Thick blank sheet download story. Presentation on the topic: "Tatyana Tolstaya The story" Clean sheet "

Key words: explanation, author, motif, parody, reception, post-modern discourse. In particular, it can be associated with the well-known Latin expression tabula rasa, both in its direct meaning - a blank board where you can write anything you want, and figuratively - a space, emptiness. Indeed, at the end of the story, the hero, who voluntarily changed his inner essence, asks for a “blank slate” in order to “provide a boarding school” for his own son, whom he calls a “non-bearer”. The reader understands that the “blank slate” in the context of the final episode is an important detail, a symbol of the beginning of a new life for the hero, whose soul has disappeared, and a void has formed in its place. On the other hand, the popular expression tabula rasa is associated with the works of famous philosophers. So, Locke believed that only practice forms a person, and his mind at birth is tabula rasa. I. Kant and the American transcendentalists who were guided by him rejected this thesis of Locke. From the point of view of R. Emerson and other transcendentalists, a person is born with an understanding of truth and error, good and evil, and these ideas are transcendental, given to a person a priori, come to him apart from experience. Tatyana Tolstaya does not make direct allusions to these philosophical disputes, but in her work the motif of the soul plays an important role, which in the subtext of the story is perceived in the traditions of classical literature - as a battlefield between good and evil, between God and the devil. The story "Clean Slate" is divided into seven small fragments that are closely related. Each fragment is based on episodes of the hero's inner and outer life. However, structurally, two parts can be distinguished in the text of the work - before the hero's meeting with the mysterious doctor, who "had no eyes", and after the meeting with him. This division is based on the opposition "living" - "dead". In the first part of the story, the idea is accentuated that the "Living" tormented the hero: "And the Alive wept subtly in his chest until the morning." "Alive" in the context of the work is a symbol of the soul. The word "soul" is never mentioned in the story, however, the leitmotif of its first part is the motive of longing, and longing, as V.I. hero, longing pursues him everywhere. It can even be said that the author creates a personified image of longing that “came” to the hero constantly, with which he was “amazed”: “Ignatiev was silent in his hand with anguish”, “Tosca moved closer to him, waved a ghostly sleeve. ..”, “Tosca waited, lay in a wide bed, moved closer, gave Ignatiev a place, hugged her, laid her head on her chest ...”, etc. .Tosca waves her sleeve like a woman, and these mysterious “swings” contribute to the appearance of strange visions in the mind of the hero. The author of the story gives a collage consisting of the thoughts and visions of the hero: "... locked in his chest, gardens, seas, cities tossed and turned, their owner was Ignatiev, they were born with him, with him they were doomed to dissolve into oblivion" . The phrase “with him they were born” that we underlined reminds us of the assertion of Kant and other philosophers that a person from birth is not a tabula rasa. The author “includes” the reader in the hero’s stream of consciousness, which makes it possible to significantly expand the context of the work. It is noteworthy that almost all the pictures that are drawn in the mind of a strange hero are of an apocalyptic nature. "Inhabitants, color the sky in twilight color, sit on the stone thresholds of abandoned houses, drop your hands, lower your heads ...". The mention of lepers, deserted lanes, abandoned hearths, cooled ashes, grassy marketplaces, gloomy landscapes - all this enhances the state of anxiety and longing in which the hero is. As if playing with the reader, the author draws a low red moon in the inky sky, and against this background - a howling wolf... the hero of the story. The longing of the hero is motivated in the story by life circumstances - the illness of the child, for whose sake the wife quit her job, as well as the internal split associated with the fact that, in addition to his wife, he also has Anastasia. Ignatiev pities the sick Valerik, pities his wife, himself and Anastasia. Thus, the motive of longing is closely connected at the beginning of the story with the motive of pity, which intensifies in the further narration, in particular, in the first part, and disappears in the second part, because the hero’s soul disappears, and with it the longing. A feature of the chronotope of the story is the connection of different time layers - the past and the present. In the present, Ignatiev has “a little white Valerik - a frail, sickly sprout, miserable to a spasm - a rash, glands, dark circles under the eyes”, in the present and a faithful wife, and next to her in his soul is “unsteady, evasive Anastasia”. The author immerses the reader into the inner world of the hero, which strikes with its gloominess. His "visions" follow each other like frames of a chronicle. They are united by common moods, fragmented and appear in the hero's mind in the same way as miracles appear in fairy tales - by magic. However, in Tolstoy's story, there are other “swings” - not of a good sorceress, but of longing. In the second “vision” - a string of ships, old sailboats that “leave the harbor no one knows where”, because the ropes have become untied. Human life is often compared in literature to a ship setting sail. This "vision" does not accidentally arise in the mind of the hero, it is not by chance that he sees sick children sleeping in the cabins. In the stream of his thoughts, Ignatiev's anxiety for his small, sick son was reflected. The third picture is saturated with oriental and at the same time mystical motives. A rocky desert, a camel stepping at a measured pace... There is a lot of mystery here. For example, why does frost glisten on a cold rocky plain? Who is he, the mysterious horseman, whose mouth “gaps with a bottomless gap”, “and deep mournful furrows have been drawn on the cheeks for thousands of years by pouring tears”? The motives of the apocalypse are felt in this fragment, and the mysterious horseman is perceived as a symbol of death. As the author of a work created in the style of postmodernism, Tatyana Tolstaya does not strive to create clear, definite pictures, images. Her descriptions are impressionistic, aimed at creating a certain impression. In the last, fourth "vision" that appeared in the mind of the hero, there are reminiscences and allusions from Gogol's story "Evening on the Eve of Ivan Kupala". Here is the same fragmentation of perception as in previous episodes. Anastasia, as a symbol of the devilish temptation, and "wandering lights over the marsh bog" stand side by side, are mentioned in one sentence. "Hot flower", "red flower", which "floats", "blinks", "flashes", is associated with the fern flower in Gogol's story, which promises the hero the fulfillment of his desires. The intertextual links between the fragment under consideration and Gogol's work are obvious; they are emphasized by the author with the help of distinct reminiscences and allusions. Gogol has "swampy swamps"; T. Tolstoy - "marsh bog", "springy brown bumps", fog ("white clubs"), moss. In Gogol, "hundreds of hairy hands reach for a flower", "ugly monsters" are mentioned. T. Tolstoy has "hairy heads in the moss". The fragment under consideration combines with Gogol's text the motive of selling one's soul (in Gogol - to the line, in T. Tolstoy - to Satan). On the whole, the “vision” or dream of Ignatiev performs the function of artistic anticipation in the text of the story. After all, the hero of Gogol's story, Petrus Bezrodny, must sacrifice the blood of an infant - innocent Ivas. This is the requirement of evil spirits. Ignatiev in Tolstoy's story "A Clean Sheet" will also make a sacrifice - he will give up the most precious thing he had, including his own son. So, in the first part of the story, his exposition is given. The leading motive of this part is the motive of longing that haunts Ignatiev, who is, in fact, a marginal hero. He is lonely, tired of life. His material problems are not emphasized in the story. However, some details eloquently indicate that they were, for example, the mention that “the wife sleeps under a torn blanket”, that the hero walks in a “tea-colored” shirt, which his dad also wore, “he married in it, and met Valerik from the hospital ", went on dates to Anastasia ... The motives declared at the beginning of the work are developed in the further narrative. Ignatiev continues to be haunted by melancholy (“her flat, blunt head popped up here and there”), he still pities his wife, telling a friend that “she is a saint”, and still thinks about Anastasia. The mention of the well-known fairy tale "Turnip" is not accidental in the story, and it is not accidental that in the hero's monologue it coexists with the name of his mistress: "And all lies, if the turnip is already planted, you won't pull it out. I know. Anastasia ... You call, you call - she is not at home. ” The situation in which Ignatiev finds himself is outlined clearly and definitely. He faces a dilemma: either a faithful but tormented wife, or a beautiful but evasive Anastasia. It is difficult for the hero to make a choice, he does not want and, obviously, cannot refuse either his wife or his mistress. The reader can only guess that he is weak, that he has a service, but no interest in it, no favorite thing, because it is not mentioned. And so his longing is not accidental. Ignatiev realizes that he is a loser. One can reproach the author for the fact that the character of the protagonist is not clearly outlined. However, it seems that T. Tolstaya did not strive for such clarity. She creates a conditional text, draws a conditional world in which everything obeys the laws of the aesthetic game. The hero of the story plays with life. He makes plans, mentally works out possible options for a future happy life: “I will forget Anastasia, I will earn a lot of money, I will take Valery to the south ... I will repair the apartment ...”. However, he understands that when all this is achieved, the longing will not leave him, that the “living” will continue to torment him. In the image of Ignatiev, T. Tolstaya creates a parody of a romantic hero - lonely, suffering, misunderstood, focused on his inner worldview. However, the hero of the story lives in a different era than the heroes of romantic works. It was Lermontov’s Pechorin who could come to the sad conclusion that his “soul was corrupted by the light,” which, apparently, had a high destiny for him, but he did not guess this destiny. In the context of the romantic era, such a hero was perceived as a tragic person. Unlike the romantic sufferers, the characters in T. Tolstoy's story, in particular, Ignatiev and his friend, do not mention the soul. This word is not in their vocabulary. The motive of suffering is given in a reduced, parodic way. The hero does not even think about a high destiny. Thinking about his character, one involuntarily recalls the question of Pushkin's Tatiana: "Isn't he a parody?" The reader understands that Ignatiev's anguish and suffering are due to the fact that he does not see a way out of the situation that he himself created. From the point of view of a friend Ignatiev, he is just a "woman": "Just think, the world's sufferer!"; "You revel in your imagined torments". It is noteworthy that the phrase "world sufferer" sounds in an ironic context. And although the nameless friend of the hero is the bearer of an ordinary average consciousness, his statements confirm the assumption that the image of Ignatiev is a parody of a romantic hero. He cannot change the current situation (neither the will nor the determination is enough for this), and therefore it turns out to be easier for him to change himself. But Ignatiev does not choose the path of moral self-improvement, which was close, for example, to many of Tolstoy's heroes. No, it is easier for him to get rid of the "living", that is, the soul. “Here I’ll be operated on ... I’ll buy a car ...” The author makes it possible to understand that material goods will not save a person from suffering. whose name was Raisa, as he promised her a heavenly, from his point of view, life. “You will live like cheese in butter”, “Yes, I have all the living space in carpets !!!” - he said, and then left the telephone booth with tear-stained eyes and an angry face. But this case did not stop the hero. He made a decision, although not right away. solutions. The hero was not alarmed by the fact that “a tearful woman came out of N.’s office”, because his attention and the attention of a friend were riveted to something else - to golden pens and expensive cognac, to the luxury that they saw there. The motif of wealth is enhanced in this part of the work. The author makes it clear that this motive in the mind of an ordinary, average person is closely connected with the image of a successful man. In a distorted world, heroes like N are associated with real men. T. Tolstaya in this case is another example of a parodic worldview. But the ideal of a real man, familiar to Ignatiev, is instilled in him by both his friend and Anastasia, who drinks “red wine” with others and on whom the “red dress” burns with a “love flower”. The symbolism of color and the mention of the "love flower" are not accidental here. All these details resonate with the motives of temptation, with the above-mentioned episode from Gogol's story "The Evening on the Eve of Ivan Kupala". "Love flower" is associated with "love potion", which is a symbol of the magical influence on the feelings and actions of a person. The "love flower" for Ignatiev was Anastasia, who speaks "demonic words" and smiles with a "demonic smile." She tempts like a demon. The ideals of the crowd become ideals for Ignatiev. And in order to fulfill his dream - to get rid of contradictions, "tame the elusive Anastasia", save Valerik, Ignatiev needs to "become rich, with fountain pens." In this clarification - "with fountain pens" - the author's irony comes through. Ignatiev’s internal monologue also evokes an ironic smile: “Who is this coming, slender as a cedar, strong as steel, with springy steps that know no shameful doubts? This is Ignatiev. His path is straight, his earnings are high, his eyes are sure, women look after him. ”In the hero’s thoughts, the wife is constantly associated with something dead. So, Ignatiev wanted to "caress the parchment locks of his hair, but his hand met only the cold of the sarcophagus." As a symbol of cold and death, the story mentions several times “rocky hoarfrost, the jingling of a harness of a lone camel, a lake frozen to the bottom”, “a frozen horseman”. The same function is performed by the mention that "Osiris is silent." Note that in Egyptian mythology, Osiris, the god of the productive forces of nature, dies every year and is reborn to a new life. Oriental motifs are also present in the hero's dreams of how he - "wise, whole, perfect - will ride on a white parade elephant, in a carpet arbor with flower fans". Yes, depicting the inner world of the hero, the author spares no irony. After all, he wants a miracle, an instant transformation that would bring him recognition, fame, wealth without any effort. A "miracle" happens, the hero changes, but only becomes not the same as he imagined himself in his dreams. However, he no longer notices and does not understand. The instantaneous removal of the "Alive" - ​​his soul - made him what he should have become, given his desires and thoughts. The author of the story freely plays with images of world culture, inviting the reader to unravel them. The work is based on the motif of selling the soul to the Devil, Satan, Antichrist, evil spirits, common in world literature, as well as the motif of metamorphosis associated with it. It is known that like Christ performing a miracle, the Antichrist imitates the miracles of Christ. So, Satan, under the guise of an Assyrian, "Physician of Doctors", imitates the actions of a doctor. After all, a real doctor heals both the body and the soul. The Assyrian "extracts", that is, removes the soul. Ignatieff is struck by the fact that “he didn’t have eyes, but he had a look”, “the abyss looked out of the eye sockets”, and since there were no eyes - “the mirror of the soul”, then there was no soul. The hero is struck by the Assyrian's blue beard and his cap in the form of a ziggurat. “What kind of Ivanov is he ...” - Ignatiev was horrified. But it was already too late. His "belated doubts" disappeared, and with them - and "his devoted girlfriend - longing." The hero enters the realm of the Antichrist - the realm of moral evil. Here “people will be selfish, greedy, proud, arrogant, blaspheming, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, impious, unmerciful, unfaithful to the word ..., impudent, pompous, loving pleasure more than God.” According to a medieval expression, the Antichrist is the ape of Christ, his false double. The doctor in Tolstoy's story "A Clean Slate" is a fake double of the doctor. He puts on gloves not for the sake of sterility, but "so as not to get his hands dirty." He is rude to his patient when he sarcastically remarks about his soul: “Do you think your soul is big?” The author of the story uses a well-known mythological plot, significantly modernizing it. T. Tolstoy's story "A Blank Sheet" is a vivid example of postmodern discourse with many of its inherent features. Indeed, in the inner world of the hero there is something terrible and unusual, the hero feels inner disharmony. T. Tolstaya emphasizes the conventionality of the depicted world, playing with the reader. The motives of the aesthetic game play a structure-forming role in its story. The game with the reader has different forms of manifestation in the work, which affects the depiction of events on the verge of the real and the unreal. The author "plays" with spatial and temporal images, making it possible to freely move from one time to another, update information of various kinds, which opens up wide scope for the reader's imagination. The game is reflected in the use of intertext, mythologems, irony, in the combination of different styles. So, the colloquial, reduced, vulgar vocabulary of the hero degraded at the end of the work is a complete contrast in comparison with the vocabulary that is found in his stream of consciousness at the beginning of the story. The hero plays life, and the author’s aesthetic game with the reader allows not only to recreate the well-known plot motifs and images, but also turns the hero’s tragedy into a farce. birth: tabula rasa or not tabula rasa? Yes, a lot is inherent in a person from birth, but his soul continues to be a battlefield of God and the Devil, Christ and Antichrist. In the case of Ignatiev in the story, T. Tolstoy defeated the Antichrist. - Evenings on a farm near Dikanka / comment. A. Chicherina, N. Stepanova. - M.: Artist. lit., 1984. - V. 1. - 319 p. Dal V. I. Explanatory dictionary of the Russian language. Modern version. / V. I. Dal. - M.: EKSMO-Press, 2000. - 736 p. Myths of the peoples of the world: encyclopedia: in 2 volumes - M.: Sov. encyclopedia, 1991. - V. 1. - 671 p. - M.: Onyx: OLMA-PRESS, 1997. - P. 154 -175. VALENTINA MATSAPURA FEATURES OF THE POETICS OF TATYANA TOLSTOY'S STORY "CLEAN SHEET" The article analyzes the features of the poetics of T. Tolstoy's story "Clean Sheet". In particular, the author focuses on the poetics of the title of the work, the features of its artistic structure, the role of symbolism, intertextual motives, and the principles of aesthetic play. The story is considered as an example of postmodern discourse. Key words: story, author, motif, parody, game technique, postmodern discourse. » are under consideration in the article. In particular, the author focuses her attention on the poetics of the story"s title, peculiarities of its artistic structure, the role of the symbolic and intertextual motives, the principles of aesthetic game. The story "Blank Paper" is viewed as a sample of postmodern discourse. Key words: narrative, author, motive, caricature, game technique, postmodern discourse.

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was born on May 3, 1951 in Leningrad, in the family of physics professor Nikita Alekseevich Tolstoy with rich literary traditions. Tatyana grew up in a large family, where she had seven brothers and sisters. The maternal grandfather of the future writer is Lozinsky Mikhail Leonidovich, literary translator, poet. On the paternal side, she is the granddaughter of the writer Alexei Tolstoy and the poetess Natalia Krandievskaya.

After leaving school, Tolstaya entered the Leningrad University, the department of classical philology (with the study of Latin and Greek), which she graduated in 1974. In the same year, she marries and, following her husband, moves to Moscow, where she gets a job as a proofreader in the Main Editorial Office of Eastern Literature at the Nauka publishing house. Having worked at the publishing house until 1983, Tatyana Tolstaya published her first literary works in the same year and made her debut as a literary critic with the article “Glue and scissors…” (“Questions of Literature”, 1983, No. 9).

According to her own confessions, she was forced to start writing by the fact that she underwent eye surgery. “Now, after laser correction, the bandage is removed after a couple of days, and then I had to lie with the bandage for a whole month. And since it was impossible to read, the plots of the first stories began to be born in my head, ”said Tolstaya.

In 1983, she wrote her first story entitled "They sat on the golden porch ...", published in the Aurora magazine in the same year. The story was acclaimed by both the public and critics, and was recognized as one of the best literary debuts of the 1980s. The artistic work was "a kaleidoscope of childhood impressions from simple events and ordinary people, who appear to children as various mysterious and fairy-tale characters." Subsequently, Tolstaya published about twenty more stories in the periodical press. Her works are published in Novy Mir and other major magazines. “Date with a Bird” (1983), “Sonya” (1984), “Clean Sheet” (1984), “Love - Don’t Love” (1984), “Okkervil River” (1985), “Mammoth Hunting” ( 1985), "Peters" (1986), "Sleep well, son" (1986), "Fire and dust" (1986), "The most beloved" (1986), "Poet and muse" (1986), "Seraphim" ( 1986), “The Moon Came Out of the Fog” (1987), “Night” (1987), “Heavenly Flame” (1987), “Sleepwalker in the Fog” (1988). In 1987, the first collection of short stories of the writer was published, entitled similarly to her first story - “They were sitting on the golden porch ...”. The collection includes both previously known and unpublished works: “Darling Shura” (1985), “Fakir” (1986), “Circle” (1987). After the publication of the collection, Tatyana Tolstaya was accepted as a member of the Writers' Union of the USSR.

Soviet criticism took Tolstoy's literary works with caution. She was reproached for the "density" of the letter, for the fact that "you can't read a lot in one sitting." Other critics took the writer's prose with enthusiasm, but noted that all her works were written according to one, built-up template. In intellectual circles, Tolstaya gains a reputation as an original, independent author. At that time, the main characters of the writer's works were "urban madmen" (old-fashioned old women, "brilliant" poets, demented childhood invalids ...), "living and dying in a cruel and stupid bourgeois environment." Since 1989 he has been a permanent member of the Russian PEN Center.

In 1990, the writer leaves for the United States, where she teaches. Tolstaya taught Russian literature and fine arts at Skidmore College in Saratoga Springs and Princeton, collaborated with the New York review of books, The New Yorker, TLS and other magazines, and lectured at other universities. Subsequently, throughout the 1990s, the writer spent several months a year in America. According to her, living abroad initially had a strong influence on her in terms of language. She complained about how the emigrant Russian language is changing under the influence of the environment. In her short essay of the time, “Hope and Support,” Tolstaya cited examples of typical conversation in a Russian shop on Brighton Beach: “Where words such as ‘Swiss-loufet cottage cheese’, ‘Slice’, ‘half a pound of cheese’ and ‘ salted salmon "". After four months in America, Tatyana Nikitichna noted that "her brain turns into minced meat or salad, where languages ​​​​are mixed and some kind of omissions appear that are absent both in English and in Russian."

In 1991 he began his journalistic activity. He maintains his own column "Own Bell Tower" in the weekly newspaper "Moscow News", collaborates with the magazine "Capital", where he is a member of the editorial board. Essays, essays and articles by Tolstoy also appear in the Russian Telegraph magazine. In parallel with her journalistic activities, she continues to publish books. In the 1990s, such works were published as “Love - do not love” (1997), “Sisters” (co-authored with sister Natalia Tolstaya) (1998), “Okkervil River” (1999). There are translations of her stories into English, German, French, Swedish and other languages ​​of the world. In 1998, she became a member of the editorial board of the American magazine Counterpoint. In 1999, Tatyana Tolstaya returned to Russia, where she continued to engage in literary, journalistic and teaching activities.

In 2000, the writer publishes her first novel, Kitty. The book caused a lot of responses and became very popular. Based on the novel, performances were staged by many theaters, and in 2001, a literary series project was carried out on the air of the state radio station Radio Russia, under the direction of Olga Khmeleva. In the same year, three more books were published: "Day", "Night" and "Two". Noting the commercial success of the writer, Andrey Ashkerov wrote in the Russian Life magazine that the total circulation of books was about 200 thousand copies and the works of Tatyana Nikitichna became available to the general public. Tolstaya receives the prize of the XIV Moscow International Book Fair in the nomination "Prose". In 2002, Tatyana Tolstaya headed the editorial board of the Konservator newspaper.

In 2002, the writer also appeared on television for the first time, in the television program Basic Instinct. In the same year, she became the co-host (together with Avdotya Smirnova) of the TV show "School of Scandal", aired on the Kultura TV channel. The program receives recognition from television critics, and in 2003 Tatyana Tolstaya and Avdotya Smirnova received the TEFI award in the Best Talk Show category.

In 2010, in collaboration with her niece Olga Prokhorova, she published her first children's book. Titled as "The same ABC of Pinocchio", the book is interconnected with the work of the writer's grandfather - the book "The Golden Key, or the Adventures of Pinocchio". Tolstaya said: “The idea for the book was born 30 years ago. Not without the help of my older sister... She was always sorry that Pinocchio sold his ABC so quickly, and that nothing was known about its contents. What bright pictures were there? What is she all about? Years passed, I switched to stories, during this time my niece grew up, gave birth to two children. And finally, there was time for a book. The half-forgotten project was picked up by my niece, Olga Prokhorova.” In the ranking of the best books of the XXIII Moscow International Book Fair, the book took second place in the Children's Literature section.

In 2011, she was included in the "One Hundred Most Influential Women of Russia" rating, compiled by the Ekho Moskvy radio station, RIA Novosti, Interfax news agencies and Ogonyok magazine. Tolstaya is attributed to the "new wave" in literature, is called one of the brightest names of "artistic prose", rooted in the "play prose" of Bulgakov, Olesha, which brought with it parody, buffoonery, celebration, eccentricity of the author's "I".

Talks about himself: “I am interested in people “from the outskirts”, that is, to whom we are usually deaf, whom we perceive as ridiculous, unable to hear their speeches, unable to discern their pain. They leave life, understanding little, often missing something important, and leaving, they are perplexed like children: the holiday is over, but where are the gifts? And life was a gift, and they themselves were a gift, but no one explained this to them.

Tatyana Tolstaya lived and worked in Princeton (USA), taught Russian literature at universities.

Now he lives in Moscow.

What is a soul? Can you distinguish a sincere person from an indifferent one? Are you familiar with the states when “cats scratch at the soul” or “the soul sings”? Soul - 1. The inner mental world of a person, his consciousness Is betrayed by the soul and body. 2. This or that property of character, as well as a person with certain properties Low e. 3. The inspirer of something - n., the main person. D. society. 4. About a person (in idioms) Not a soul in the house.5. In the old days a serf. Dead Souls. Dictionary of S. I. Ozhegov and N. Yu. Shvedov

“A clean slate” “Every night longing came to Ignatiev. Heavy, vague, with her head bowed, she sat on the edge of the bed, took her by the hand - a sad nurse for a hopeless patient. So they were silent for hours - hand in hand. Behind the wall, an earthy, tired, dear wife sleeps under a tattered rug. The little white Valerik was scattered - a frail, sickly sprout, miserable to a spasm - a rash, glands, dark circles under the eyes. Tosca waited, lay in a wide bed, moved aside, made room for Ignatiev, hugged him, laid her head on his chest. To cut down gardens. Shallow seas, ashes of cities. But not everyone has been killed yet: in the morning, when Ignatiev is sleeping, from somewhere out of the dugouts comes the Living; rakes burnt logs, plants small sprouts of seedlings: plastic primroses, cardboard oaks, drags cubes, erects temporary huts. From a child's watering can, he fills the bowls of the seas and draws a dark, winding line of the surf with a simple pencil.

“It’s bad, you know,” presses. Every day I promise myself: tomorrow I will become a different person, I will cheer up, I will forget Anastasia, I will earn a lot of money, I will take Valery to the south ... I will repair the apartment, I will run in the mornings ... And at night - melancholy. - I do not understand, - said a friend, - well, what are you getting out of? Everyone has similar circumstances, what's the matter? We live somehow. - You understand: here, - Ignatiev, pointing to his chest, - alive, alive, it hurts! - Well, a fool, - a friend brushed his tooth with a match. “That’s why it hurts because it’s alive. And how did you want? - I don't want to hurt. And it's hard for me. And here I am, suffering. And the wife suffers, and Valerochka suffers, and Anastasia, probably, also suffers and turns off the phone. And we all torture each other... I'm sick and I want to be healthy. - And if so, be aware: the diseased organ must be amputated. Like an appendix. Ignatiev raised his head, amazed. - In what sense to amputate? - In medical. They're doing it now."

“Only the weak regret the vain sacrifices. He will be strong. He will burn everything that raises barriers. He will lasso, attach to the saddle, tame the elusive Anastasia. He will raise the sallow, downcast face of his dear, tormented wife. Contradictions will not tear it apart. Clearly, the worthy will be fairly balanced. here is your place, wife. Own. Here is your place, Anastasia. Tsars. Smile and you, little Valerik. Your legs will get stronger, and the glands will pass, because daddy loves you, pale city potato sprout. Dad will be rich. He will call expensive doctors in gold glasses, with leather bags. Carefully passing you from hand to hand, they will carry you to the fruity shores of the eternally blue sea, and the lemon, orange breeze will blow away the dark circles from your eyes. Who is it walking, slender as a cedar, strong as steel, springy steps, not knowing shameful doubts? This is Ignatiev. His path is straight, his earnings are high, his eyes are sure, women look after him.

“The clatter of a gurney was heard from behind, muffled groans - and two elderly women in white coats carried a writhing, nameless body, all in dried bloody bandages - both face and chest, - only a mouth with a black mooing failure. Also, this? Him?.. Pulled out, right? The nurse laughed ruefully. - No, he was transplanted. You will be removed, another will be transplanted. Don't worry. This is an inpatient. - Oh, so they do the opposite too? And why is this ... - Not a tenant. They don't live. We take a subscription before the operation. Useless. They don't survive. - Rejection? The immune system? Ignatiev flaunted. - Massive heart attack. - Why? - They can't stand it. Well, they were born like that, they lived all their lives, they didn’t know what kind of thing it was - and suddenly here it is - give them a transplant. The fashion has gone like this, or something. They stand in line, roll calls once a month. There are not enough donors. - And I, therefore, the donor?

“Get out your scalpel, knife, sickle, whatever is customary with you, doctor, do a good deed, cut off the branch. Still blooming, but already inevitably dying, and throw into the cleansing fire. Ignatiev began to look and saw the doctor. on his head, in a stepped cone, sat a cap - a white tiara with blue stripes, a starched ziggurat. A swarthy face. Eyes down on paper. And powerfully, a waterfall, but terribly - from the ears to the waist down - four tiers, forty spirals twisted a blue stiff Assyrian beard - thick rings, resin springs, night hyacinth. I, Doctor of Doctors, Ivanov. He didn't have eyes. From empty eye sockets blew a black gap to nowhere, an underground passage to other worlds, to the outskirts of the dead seas of darkness. And there it was necessary to go. There were no eyes, but there was a look. And he looked at Ignatiev.

Look for changes in vocabulary “It's nice to feel a blunt piglet in the solar plexus. Everything is choir. - Well, okay, beard, I chafed. Come on five. Be Shcha in social security or where should you go? No, social security after, but now write where you should and signal to whom it is supposed that the doctor, who calls himself Ivanov, is taking bribes. Write in detail, but so it is with humor: they say, there are no eyes, but denyushki vie - goes! And where are those who are supposed to look? And then to the social. So and so, I can no longer keep this little baby at home. Unsanitary, you know. Kindly provide a boarding school. They will kobenitsya, will have to give on the paw. It's the way it's done. ET is okay. Ignatiev pushed the door of the post office.

Conversation on the content of the story What will be the future of our hero? Will he be happy? What does the author want to say with this ending? Can you explain the meaning of the title of the story? Name the signs of postmodernism in Tolstoy's story. What is the meaning of the author's title of the story?

Longing Go away, longing! Tatyana Yezhevskaya Tatyana Yezhevskaya Why, melancholy, do you gnaw at your soul And eat, savoring the pieces? You are a feminine kind, too ... Let's put an end to it now. Leave, leave without regret, No need to gnaw and torment the soul. Give it to me in possession, I will not violate our agreement. I won't disturb you again. Fly, melancholy, live in peace. I'll just forget about you, so that my soul doesn't hurt. And from the torn pieces I will mold a beautiful living thing, And I will round off all the corners, Diving into happiness with my head

Information sources: php start %20 with %20 clean %20 sheet &noreask=1&img_url= %2F08%2F18%2F3674.jpg&pos=20 alone &noreask =1&img_url=i93.beon.ru%2F46%2F30%2F %2F56%2F %2F165 .jpeg&pos=3&rpt=simage human %20 soul &no reask=1&img_url= 12%2F03%2F23%2F1329%2F0.jpg&pos=22&r human %20 soul &no reask=1&img_url= 12%2F03%2F23%2F1329%2F0.jpg&pos=22&r remin) portrait)

Tatiana Tolstaya

stories

That's why, at sunset

Leaving in the darkness of the night

From the white square of the Senate

I quietly bow to him.

And for a long time I will be kind to the people ...

Suppose, at the very moment when Dantes' white index finger is already on the trigger, some ordinary, non-poetic bird of God, frightened from fir branches by fuss and trampling in bluish snow, poops on the hand of the villain. Klyak!

The hand naturally twitches involuntarily; shot, Pushkin falls. Such a pain! Through the mist that obscures his eyes, he takes aim, shoots back; Dantes also falls; "glorious shot," the poet laughs. The seconds take him away, semi-conscious; in delirium, he mutters everything, everything seems to want to ask something.

Rumors of a duel spread quickly: Dantes was killed, Pushkin was wounded in the chest. Natalya Nikolaevna is hysterical, Nikolai is furious; Russian society is rapidly divided into the party of the killed and the party of the wounded; there is something to brighten up the winter, something to chat about between the mazurka and the polka. Ladies defiantly weave mourning ribbons into lace. The young ladies are curious and imagine a star-shaped wound; however, the word "breast" seems indecent to them. Meanwhile, Pushkin is in oblivion, Pushkin is in the heat, rushing about and delirious; Dal drags everything and drags soaked cloudberries into the house, trying to push the bitter berries through the clenched teeth of the sufferer, Vasily Andreevich hangs mournful sheets on the door for the assembled and not dispersing crowd; the lung is shot, the bone is festering, the smell is terrible (carbolic, sublimate, alcohol, ether, cauterization, bloodletting?), the pain is unbearable, and old well-meaning friends, veterans of the twelfth year, say that it is like fire and incessant firing in the body, like tears thousands of cores, and they advise drinking punch and punch again: it distracts.

Pushkin dreams of fires, shooting, screams, the Battle of Poltava, the gorges of the Caucasus, overgrown with small and hard bushes, one in the height, the tramp of copper hooves, a dwarf in a red cap, Griboedov's cart, he imagines the coolness of the Pyatigorsk murmuring waters - someone put a cooling hand on feverish forehead - Dal? - Far. The distance is clouded with smoke, someone falls, shot, on the lawn, among Caucasian bushes, medlars and capers; it was he himself, killed, - why now sobs, empty praises, an unnecessary chorus? - the Scottish moon sheds a sad light on the sad glades, overgrown with spreading cranberries and mighty, sky-high cloudberries; a beautiful Kalmyk girl, coughing furiously, tubercularly - a trembling creature or has she the right? - breaks a green stick over his head - a civil penalty; What are you sewing, Kalmyk? - Porta. - To whom? - Myself. Are you still dozing, lovely friend? Don't sleep, get up, curly! The senseless and merciless peasant, bending down, does something with the iron, and the candle, under which Pushkin, trembling and cursing, with disgust, reads his life full of deceit, sways in the wind. The dogs are tearing up the baby, and the boys are bloody in the eyes. Shoot,” he says quietly and with conviction, “because I stopped hearing the music, the Romanian orchestra and the sad songs of Georgia, and the anchorage throws itself on my shoulders, but I’m not a wolf by my blood: I managed to stick it in my throat and turn it twice there. He got up, killed his wife, killed his sleepy babies. The rumble subsided, I went out to the stage, I went out early, before the star, I was, but I left all, a man with a club and a sack came out of the house. Pushkin leaves the house barefoot, boots under his arm, diaries in boots. So the souls look from a height at the body they have thrown down. Writer's diary. Diary of a Madman. Notes from the House of the Dead. Scientific Notes of the Geographical Society. I will go through the souls of the people with a blue flame, I will go through the cities with a red flame. The fish swim in the pocket, the path ahead is unclear. What are you building there, for whom? This, sir, is a state-owned house, the Alexander Central. And music, music, music is woven into my singing. And every language that is in it will call me. Whether I’m driving down a dark street at night, either in a wagon, or in a carriage, or in an oyster car, shsr yeukiu, this is not the same city, and midnight is not the same. Many robbers shed the blood of honest Christians! Horse, darling, listen to me... R, O, S, no, I can't distinguish between letters... And suddenly I realized that I was in hell.

"Broken dishes live for two centuries!" - Vasily Andreevich groans, helping to drag the crumpled sheets from under the convalescent. He strives to do everything himself, fusses, gets confused under the servants' feet - he loves. "Here's the broth!" Is there a devil in it, in the broth, but here are the troubles about the royal mercy, but here is the most merciful forgiveness for an unlawful duel, but intrigues, cunning, feigned court sighs, all-submissive notes and an endless ride back and forth in a cab, "but tell me, brother ... "Master!

Vasily Andreevich beams: he got the victorious student exiled to Mikhailovskoye - only, only! Pine air, open spaces, short walks, and the shot chest will heal - and you can swim in the river! And - "Shut up, shut up, my dear, the doctors won't tell you to talk, that's all later! Everything is fine. Everything will work out."

Of course, of course, the howling of wolves and the chiming of clocks, the long winter evenings by candlelight, the weepy boredom of Natalya Nikolaevna - first frightened cries at the bedside of the sick, then despondency, reproaches, whining, wandering from room to room, yawning, beating children and servants, whims, tantrums, the loss of a glass waist, the first gray hair in an unkempt strand, and what, gentlemen, in the morning, expectorating and spitting out the oncoming sputum, look out the window, like a dear friend in freshly fallen snow in cut-off felt boots, with a twig in his hand, chasing a goat , eating dry stems of withered flowers sticking up here and there from last summer! Blue dead flies are lying between the glasses - order them to be removed.

No money. Children are goofs. When will the roads be fixed for us? .. - Never. I bet ten cellars of brut champagne - never. And don't wait, it won't. "Pushkin has written himself," the ladies chirp, aging and sagging. However, the new writers, it seems, also have peculiar views on literature - unbearably applied. The melancholy lieutenant Lermontov showed some promise, but died in a stupid fight. Young Tyutchev is not bad, although a little cold. Who else writes poetry? Nobody. Pushkin writes outrageous poems, but does not flood Russia with them, but burns them on a candle, for supervision, gentlemen, is around the clock. He also writes prose that no one wants to read, because it is dry and precise, and the era requires pity and vulgarity (I thought that this word is unlikely to be honored by us, but I was mistaken, but how wrong!), And now the hemoptysis neurotic Vissarion and the ugly cheerleader Nekrasov - so, it seems? - they race along the morning streets to an epileptic raznochintsy (what a word!): “Do you really understand what you wrote like that?” ... But, by the way, all this is vague and vain, and barely passes through the edge of consciousness. Yes, old acquaintances have returned from the depths of Siberian ores, from chains and shackles: you can’t recognize it, and it’s not about white beards, but in conversations: unclear, as if from under water, as if drowned men, in green algae, were knocking under the window and at the gate. Yes, they freed the peasant, and now he, passing by, looks arrogantly and hints at something robbery. The youth is terrible and insulting: "Boots are higher than Pushkin!" - "Effective!". The girls have cut off their hair, they look like yard boys and talk about rights: scht Vshug! Gogol died after going insane. Count Tolstoy published excellent stories, but did not answer the letter. Puppy! The memory is weakening... Supervision has long been lifted, but I do not want to go anywhere. In the morning he suffers from a hacking cough. There is no money. And it is necessary, groaning, to finish at last - how long can one drag - the story of Pugachev, a work chosen in ancient times, but still not letting go, all pulling towards itself - they open previously forbidden archives, and there, in the archives, a bewitching novelty, as if it was not the past that was revealed, but the future, something vaguely glimpsing and appearing as indistinct contours in the feverish brain - then, long ago, when he lay, shot through with this, what do you mean by him? - forgot; because of which? - forgot. As if uncertainty had opened up in the darkness.