Maksim Gorky. The Legend of Mother and Timur

02.02.2012 15804 1138

Lesson 61 extracurricular reading. story “Mother of the Traitor” from “Tales of Italy” by M. Gorky

Goals: check reading comprehension, develop the ability to characterize heroes based on their actions.

Equipment: works by A. M. Gorky, portrait.

During the classes

I. Organizational moment.

II. Working with cards.

Card 1.

Analyze an excerpt from “The Legend of Danko.” What artistic means does the author use?

And the forest still sang its gloomy song, and the thunder roared, and the rain poured...

- What will I do for people?! – Danko shouted louder than thunder.

And suddenly he tore his chest with his hands and tore his heart out of it and raised it high above his head.

It burned as bright as the sun and brighter than the sun, and the whole forest fell silent, illuminated by this torch of great love for people, and the darkness scattered from its light and there, deep in the forest, trembling, fell into the rotten wrath of the swamp. The people, amazed, became like stones.

- Let's go! - Danko shouted. And he rushed forward to his place, holding his burning heart high and illuminating the path for people with it.

They rushed after him, fascinated. Then the forest rustled again, shaking its peaks in surprise, but its noise was drowned out by the tramp of running people. Everyone ran quickly and boldly, carried away by the wonderful spectacle of a burning heart. And now they died, but they died without complaints or tears. But Danko was still ahead, and his heart was still burning, burning!

And then suddenly the forest parted before him, parted and remained behind, dense and silent, and Danko and all those people immediately plunged into a sea of sunlight and clean air, washed by the rain. There was a thunderstorm - there, behind them, above the forest, and here the sun was shining, the steppe was sighing, the grass was glittering in the diamonds of the rain and the river was sparkling gold... It was evening, and from the rays of the sunset the river seemed red, like the blood that flowed in a hot stream from Danko's torn chest.

The proud daredevil Danko cast his gaze forward at the expanse of the steppe; he cast a joyful glance at the free land and laughed proudly. And then he fell and died.

People, joyful and full of hope, did not notice his death and did not see that his brave heart was still burning next to Danko’s corpse. Only one cautious person noticed this and, fearing something, stepped on the proud heart with his foot... And then it, disintegrating into sparks, died out...

Answer: This is the final part of the “Legend...”, telling about the glorious feat of Danko, who illuminated the path for people with his heart and died for them, leaving a memory of himself. Danko’s heart is compared to the sun; a hostile forest, darkness, and adversity are forced to retreat. People change. Captivated by the miracle, they again become, as before, strong and courageous. The magnificent landscape that opened up to those who defeated the terrible forest and thunderstorm captivates with the abundance of light and rich colors. People are now “joyful and hopeful,” but also ruthless and indifferent. They did not notice the hero's death. And one (very similar to the Snake from “Song of the Falcon”) even “stepped on a proud heart.”

M. Gorky uses in his legend many techniques traditional for folklore: inversion, repetitions, rhythm, personification, comparisons. There are many epithets in this passage (in the form separate definitions), among them color ones.

Card 2.

What ancient hero's feat, similar to Danko's, can you name? What did it consist of?

Answer. This is the feat of Prometheus, who stole fire from the gods for people in order to warm the inhabitants of the earth, illuminate their lives, and change it for the better. A terrible punishment befell him: chained to a rock, he could not move, and huge eagles tormented his liver. The torment of the glorious hero lasted indefinitely, but people did not forget him. The name Prometheus has become a household name, the name given to people who are ready for the feat of self-sacrifice for others, about people who neglect their interests for the benefit of everyone.

Card 3.

Draw verbal portrait Danko. Try to include in it the words that M. Gorky characterizes the hero.

Answer. Danko is a handsome young man. He is tall, slender, with a proud posture and the broad shoulders of an athlete. His eyes are striking in his face, they attract attention with some extraordinary, supernatural radiance - it burns in them great love to people, the desire to help them become better, stronger, braver.

It’s hard to imagine what Danko is wearing, but it probably doesn’t matter, like the color of his eyes, the length of his hair, the shape of his nose...

Although his forehead is probably high and clean, and his profile is clear, like that of a very handsome person.

III. Communicate the topic and objectives of the lesson.

IV. A tour of the exhibition of books compiled from the works of Gorky, his portraits.

The tour is led by a librarian; Among the books is “Tales of Italy.”

V. Studying a new topic.

1. Retelling the story“Mother of a Traitor” (contents, heroes).

2. Conversation on issues.

– How does the author describe the troubled life of a besieged city? (“...A close ring of enemies...", "the ringing of weapons, loud laughter... songs of people confident in victory...", "...they burned out the vineyards...", "they trampled the fields...", "...the guns and muskets of the enemies showered the city... with cast iron and lead ", the groans of the wounded," "the prayers of women and the crying of children.")

“Are you on the street again, Monna Marianna?

– To whom are these words addressed? (A citizen and a mother, she thought about her son and her homeland: her son was at the head of the people who were destroying the city...".)

– What does a woman mourning her murdered son thank Madonna for? (“Either kill me because my son has become your enemy, or open the gates and I will go to him...”)

- Why does the mother leave for her son? (“Mother! You came to me... tomorrow I will take this damned city... I will destroy the nest of stubborn people!”

“Mother creates... protects, and talking to her about destruction means talking against her...”)

-What did mother do? (“Man – I did everything I could for my homeland. Mother – I stay with my son.”)

Conclusion d. The grief of a mother who has lost her son is immeasurable, this is a terrible punishment, but worse than this punishment is the betrayal of her son - this is the leitmotif romantic story A. M. Gorky.

VI. Summing up the lesson.

– What other “Tales of Italy” have you read? Did you like them?

Homework: Read “Tales of Italy” independently.

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I, God's servant Timur, say what should be done! Here, sitting before me, is a woman of such darkness, and she aroused in my soul feelings unknown to me. She speaks to me as an equal, and she does not ask, but demands. And I see, I understood, why this woman is so strong - she loves, and love helped her learn that her child is a spark of life, from which a flame can flare up for many centuries. Were not all prophets children and heroes weak? Oh, Jigangir, the fire of my eyes, maybe you were destined to warm the earth, sow it with happiness - I watered it well with blood, and it became fat!

Again the scourge of nations thought for a long time and finally said:

- I, God's servant Timur, say what should be done! Three hundred horsemen will go immediately to all the ends of my land, and let them find the son of this woman, and she will wait here, and I will wait with her, the one who returns with a child on the saddle of his horse, he will be happy - says Timur! So, woman?

She brushed her black hair out of her face, smiled at him and answered, nodding her head:

- Yes, king!

Then this terrible old man stood up and silently bowed to her, and cheerful poet Kermani spoke like a child with great joy:

What is more beautiful than songs about flowers and stars?

Everyone will immediately say: songs about love!

What is more beautiful than the sun on a clear May afternoon?

And the lover will say: she whom I love!

Ah, the stars are beautiful in the midnight sky - I know!

And the sun is beautiful on a clear summer afternoon - I know!

My darling's eyes are the most beautiful of all colors - I know!

And her smile is sweeter than the sun - I know!

But the most beautiful song of all has not yet been sung,

A song about the beginning of everything in the world,

Song about the heart of the world, about the magic heart

The one we people call Mother!

And Timur-leng said to his poet:

- Yes, Kermani! God was not mistaken in choosing your mouth to proclaim his wisdom!

- Eh! God himself - good poet! - said the drunken Kermani.

And the woman smiled, and all the kings and princes, military leaders and all the other children smiled, looking at her - Mother!

All this is true; all the words here are the truth, our mothers know this, ask them and they will say:

- Yes, all this is the eternal truth, we - stronger than death, we who continually give the world sages, poets and heroes, we who sow in it everything for which it is famous!

You can talk endlessly about Mothers.

For several weeks now the city had been surrounded by a close ring of enemies clad in iron; At night, fires were lit, and the fire looked out of the black darkness at the walls of the city with many red eyes - they glowed with malicious joy, and this lurking fire evoked gloomy thoughts in the besieged city.

From the walls they saw how the enemy’s noose was shrinking ever closer, how their black shadows flickered around the lights; you could hear the neighing of well-fed horses, you could hear the clink of weapons, loud laughter, you could hear the cheerful songs of people confident in victory - and what is more painful to hear than the laughter and songs of the enemy?

Troops of soldiers, battle-weary and half-starved, walked gloomily along the narrow streets of the city; From the windows of the houses poured out the groans of the wounded, the cries of delirium, the prayers of women and the cries of children. They talked depressedly, in a low voice and, stopping each other's speech mid-sentence, listened intently - were the enemies about to attack?

Life became especially unbearable in the evening, when in the silence moans and cries sounded clearer and more abundantly, when blue-black shadows crawled out of the gorges of the distant mountains and, hiding the enemy’s camp, moved towards the half-broken walls, and over the black battlements of the mountains the moon appeared like a lost shield , beaten by blows of swords.

Without expecting help, exhausted by labor and hunger, losing hope every day, people looked in fear at this moon, the sharp teeth of the mountains, the black mouths of the gorges and the noisy camp of the enemies - everything reminded them of death, and not a single star shone comfortingly for them. them.

People were afraid to light lights in the houses, thick darkness filled the streets, and in this darkness, like a fish in the depths of a river, a woman silently flashed, her head wrapped in a black cloak.

People, seeing her, asked each other:

- That's her?

And they hid in niches under the gates or, with their heads down, silently ran past her, and the patrol commanders sternly warned her:

– Are you on the street again, Monna Marianna? Look, you can be killed, and no one will look for the culprit...

She straightened up and waited, but the patrol passed by, not daring or disdainful to raise a hand against her; armed people walked around her like a corpse, and she remained in the darkness and again quietly, lonelyly walked somewhere, moving from street to street, dumb and black, like the embodiment of the misfortunes of the city, and around, chasing her, sad sounds crawled pitifully: groans , crying, prayers and gloomy talk of soldiers who had lost hope of victory.

A citizen and mother, she thought about her son and homeland: at the head of the people who were destroying the city, stood her son, a cheerful and ruthless handsome man; just recently she looked at him with pride, as at her precious gift to her homeland, as at good power, born by her to help the people of the city - the nest where she herself was born, gave birth to and fed him. Hundreds of inextricable threads connected her heart with the ancient stones from which her ancestors built houses and laid the walls of the city, with the ground where the bones of her blood relatives lay, with legends, songs and hopes of people - the heart of the mother of the person closest to him lost and cried: it was like scales, but, weighing the love for his son and the city, he could not understand what was easier, what was harder.

So she walked the streets at night, and many, not recognizing her, were frightened, mistook the black figure for the personification of death, which was close to everyone, and when they recognized her, they silently walked away from the traitor’s mother.

But one day, in a remote corner, near the city wall, she saw another woman: kneeling near a corpse, motionless, like a piece of earth, she prayed, raising her mournful face to the stars, and on the wall, above her head, the guards were quietly talking and grinding weapons, hitting the stones of the battlements.

The traitor's mother asked:

- Son. The husband was killed thirteen days ago, and this one is killed today.

And, rising from her knees, the mother of the murdered man humbly said:

– Madonna sees everything, knows everything, and I thank her!

- For what? – asked the first one, and she answered her:

– Now that he honestly died fighting for his homeland, I can say that he aroused fear in me: frivolous, he loved a cheerful life too much, and it was afraid that for this he would betray the city, as did Marianne’s son, the enemy of God and people, the leader of our enemies, cursed be he, and cursed be the womb that bore him!..

Covering her face, Marianna walked away, and the next morning she appeared to the defenders of the city and said:

- Either kill me because my son has become your enemy, or open the gates for me, I will go to him...

They have replyed:

“You are a human being, and your homeland should be dear to you; your son is as much an enemy for you as he is for each of us.

“I am a mother, I love him and I consider myself guilty that he is what he has become.”

Then they began to consult what to do with her, and decided:

- In honor - we cannot kill you for your son’s sin, we know that you could not instill this in him terrible sin, and we can guess how you must suffer. But the city does not need you even as a hostage - your son does not care about you, we think that he has forgotten you, the devil, and - here is your punishment if you think that you deserve it! It seems to us worse than death!

You can talk endlessly about Mothers. For several weeks now the city had been surrounded by a close ring of enemies clad in iron; At night, fires were lit, and the fire looked out of the black darkness at the walls of the city with many red eyes - they glowed with malicious joy, and this lurking combustion evoked gloomy thoughts in the besieged city. From the walls they saw how the enemy’s noose was shrinking ever closer, how their black shadows flickered around the lights; you could hear the neighing of well-fed horses, you could hear the clink of weapons, loud laughter, you could hear the cheerful songs of people confident in victory - and what is more painful to hear than the laughter and songs of the enemy? The enemies covered all the streams that fed the city with water, they burned out the vineyards around the walls, trampled the fields, cut down the gardens - the city was open on all sides, and almost every day the cannons and muskets of the enemies showered it with cast iron and lead. Troops of soldiers, battle-weary and half-starved, walked gloomily along the narrow streets of the city; From the windows of the houses poured out the groans of the wounded, the cries of delirium, the prayers of women and the cries of children. They talked depressedly, in a low voice and, stopping each other's speech mid-sentence, listened intently - were the enemies about to attack? Life became especially unbearable in the evening, when in the silence moans and cries sounded clearer and more abundantly, when blue-black shadows crawled out of the gorges of the distant mountains and, hiding the enemy’s camp, moved towards the half-broken walls, and over the black battlements of the mountains the moon appeared like a lost shield , beaten by blows of swords. Without expecting help, exhausted by labor and hunger, losing hope every day, people looked in fear at this moon, the sharp teeth of the mountains, the black mouths of the gorges and the noisy camp of the enemies - everything reminded them of death, and not a single star shone comfortingly for them. them. People were afraid to light lights in the houses, thick darkness filled the streets, and in this darkness, like a fish in the depths of a river, a woman silently flashed, her head wrapped in a black cloak. People, seeing her, asked each other:

- That's her? - She!

And they hid in niches under the gates or, with their heads down, silently ran past her, and the patrol commanders sternly warned her: “Are you on the street again, Monna Marianna?” Look, they can kill you, and no one will look for the culprit... She straightened up, waited, but the patrol passed by, not daring or disdainful to raise a hand against her; armed people walked around her like a corpse, and she remained in the darkness and again quietly, lonelyly walked somewhere, moving from street to street, dumb and black, like the embodiment of the misfortunes of the city, and around, chasing her, sad sounds crawled pitifully: groans , crying, prayers and gloomy talk of soldiers who had lost hope of victory. A citizen and mother, she thought about her son and homeland: at the head of the people who were destroying the city, stood her son, a cheerful and ruthless handsome man; Until recently, she looked at him with pride, as her precious gift to her homeland, as a good force born by her to help the people of the city - the nest where she herself was born, gave birth to and nurtured him. Hundreds of unbreakable threads connected her heart with the ancient stones from which her ancestors built houses and laid the walls of the city, with the ground where the bones of her blood relatives lay, with legends, songs and hopes of people - the heart of the mother of the person closest to him lost and cried: it was like scales, but, weighing the love for his son and the city, he could not understand what was easier, what was harder. So she walked the streets at night, and many, not recognizing her, were frightened, mistook the black figure for the personification of death, which was close to everyone, and when they recognized her, they silently walked away from the traitor’s mother. But one day, in a remote corner, near the city wall, she saw another woman: kneeling near a corpse, motionless, like a piece of earth, she prayed, raising her mournful face to the stars, and on the wall, above her head, the guards were quietly talking and grinding weapons, hitting the stones of the battlements. The traitor's mother asked: “Husband?” - No. - Brother? - Son. The husband was killed thirteen days ago, and this one was killed today. And, rising from her knees, the mother of the murdered man humbly said: “Madonna sees everything, knows everything, and I thank her!” - For what? - asked the first, and she answered her: - Now that he died honestly, fighting for his homeland, I can say that he aroused fear in me: frivolous, he loved a cheerful life too much, and it was afraid that for this he would betray the city , as the son of Marianna did, the enemy of God and people, the leader of our enemies, damn him, and damn the womb that carried him!.. Covering her face, Marianna walked away, and the next morning she appeared to the defenders of the city and said: Either kill me because my son has become your enemy, or open the gates for me, I will go to him. .. They answered: “You are a man, and your homeland should be dear to you; your son is as much an enemy for you as he is for each of us. “I am a mother, I love him and I consider myself guilty that he is what he has become.” Then they began to consult what to do with her, and decided: “In honor, we cannot kill you for your son’s sin, we know that you could not instill this terrible sin in him, and we can guess how you must suffer.” But the city does not need you even as a hostage - your son does not care about you, we think that he has forgotten you, the devil, and - here is your punishment if you find that you deserve it! This seems worse to us than death!

- Yes! - she said. - This is worse.

They opened the gates in front of her, let her out of the city and watched for a long time from the wall as she walked through her native land, thickly saturated with the blood shed by her son: she walked slowly, with great difficulty lifting her feet from this ground, bowing to the corpses of the city’s defenders, with disgust pushing away broken weapons with their feet, mothers hate offensive weapons, recognizing only those that protect life. It was as if she was carrying a cup full of moisture in her hands under her cloak, and was afraid of spilling it; As she moved away, she became smaller and smaller, and to those who looked at her from the wall, it seemed as if despondency and hopelessness were leaving them with her. They saw how she stopped halfway and, throwing off the hood of her cloak from her head, looked at the city for a long time, and there, in the enemy camp, they noticed her, alone in the middle of the field, and, slowly, carefully, black figures like her were approaching her . They came up and asked who she was, where is he going? “Your leader is my son,” she said, and not one of the soldiers doubted it. They walked next to her, praising how smart and brave her son was, she listened to them, proudly raising her head, and was not surprised - her son should be like that! And here she is before the man whom she knew nine months before his birth, before the one whom she had never felt outside her heart - in silk and velvet he is before her, and his weapon is in precious stones . Everything is as it should be; This is exactly how she saw him many times in her dreams - rich, famous and loved. - Mother! - he said, kissing her hands. “You came to me, it means you understood me, and tomorrow I will take this damned city!” “The one you were born in,” she reminded. Intoxicated by his exploits, maddened by a thirst for even greater glory, he told her with the daring fervor of youth: “I was born in the world and for the world, in order to amaze it with surprise!” I spared this city for your sake - it is like a thorn in my foot and prevents me from moving as quickly to glory as I want. But now - tomorrow - I will destroy the nest of stubborn people! “Where every stone knows and remembers you as a child,” she said. “Stones are mute, if a person doesn’t make them talk, let the mountains talk about me, that’s what I want!” - But people? she asked. - Oh yes, I remember them, mother! And I need them, because only in the memory of people are heroes immortal! She said: “A hero is someone who creates life in spite of death, who conquers death...” “No!” - he objected. “He who destroys is as glorious as he who builds cities.” Look - we don’t know whether Aeneas or Romulus built Rome, but the name of Alaric and other heroes who destroyed this city is definitely known. “Who survived all the names,” the mother reminded. So he spoke to her until sunset, she interrupted his crazy speeches less and less, and her proud head sank lower and lower. Mother creates, she protects, and to talk about destruction in front of her means to speak against her, but he did not know this and denied the meaning of her life. Mother is always against death; the hand that introduces death into people's homes is hateful and hostile to Mothers - her son did not see this, blinded by the cold brilliance of glory that kills the heart. And he did not know that the Mother is a beast as intelligent, ruthless as fearless, if it comes to the life that she, the Mother, creates and protects. She sat bent over, and through the open canvas of the leader’s rich tent she could see the city where she first experienced the sweet trembling of conception and the painful spasms of the birth of a child who now wants to destroy. The crimson rays of the sun drenched the walls and towers of the city in blood, the glass of the windows shone ominously, the whole city seemed wounded, and the red juice of life flowed through hundreds of wounds; Time passed, and then the city began to turn black, like a corpse, and the stars lit up above it, like funeral candles. She saw there, in dark houses where they were afraid to light a fire so as not to attract the attention of enemies, on streets full of darkness, the smell of corpses, the suppressed whispers of people awaiting death - she saw everything and everyone; something familiar and dear stood close to her, silently awaiting her decision, and she felt like a mother to all the people of her city. Clouds descended from the black peaks of the mountains into the valley and, like winged horses, flew towards the city, doomed to death. “Perhaps we will fall on him at night,” said her son, “if the night is dark enough!” It’s inconvenient to kill when the sun is looking into your eyes and the shine of the weapon blinds them - there are always a lot of wrong blows,” he said, examining his sword. His mother told him: “Come here, lay your head on my chest, rest, remembering how cheerful and kind you were as a child and how everyone loved you...” He obeyed, lay down on her lap and closed his eyes, saying: “I love you.” only glory and you, for giving birth to me as I am. - And women? - she asked, leaning over him. - There are a lot of them, they quickly get boring, like everything too sweet. She asked him in last time: - And you don’t want to have children? - For what? To be killed? Someone like me will kill them, and it will hurt me, and then I will be old and weak to avenge them.

“You are beautiful, but barren as lightning,” she said with a sigh. He answered smiling: - Yes, like lightning...

And he dozed off on his mother’s chest like a child. Then she, covering him with her black cloak, stuck a knife into his heart, and he, shuddering, died immediately - after all, she knew well where her son’s heart beats. And, throwing his corpse from her knees at the feet of the astonished guards, she said towards the city: “Man, I did everything I could for my homeland; Mother - I stay with my son! It’s too late for me to give birth to another, no one needs my life. And the same knife, still warm from his blood - her blood - she plunged with a firm hand into her chest and also correctly hit her heart - if it hurts, it’s easy to hit.

“A hero is one who creates life in spite of death...” (based on the story by M. Gorky “Mother of the Traitor”)

students will think about the role of the mother in a person’s life while reading M. Gorky’s story “The Traitor’s Mother” (XI from “Tales of Italy”);
students will develop the ability to analyze text and identify the main problem;
students will learn a culture of communication, accepting any opinion correctly.

Methods: pentaverses - characteristics (syncwines), directed reading, double entry diary, essay. (The class is divided into 4 groups of 5-6 people..

Equipment: text printouts for each student, presentation, sheets, markers.

During the classes

I. Stimulating interest in learning.

Every day the same person accompanies you to classes and takes care of you - your mother. Everyone can talk endlessly about their mother. M. Gorky’s story, which is included in the cycle of stories “Tales of Italy” under number XI, begins with a similar phrase. We will read the story, but not to the end. The ending is up to you to write.

1A. Reading a story. (Up to part 6).

Exercise: - Try writing the ending of this piece.

(Write for 5 minutes, then read, options are posted on the board).

There is a discussion going on.

II. Implementation of the teaching. Assignments for part 1.

You can talk endlessly about Mothers.

For several weeks now the city had been surrounded by a close ring of enemies clad in iron; At night, fires were lit, and the fire looked from the black darkness at the walls of the city with many red eyes - they glowed with malevolent joy, and this lurking fire evoked gloomy thoughts in the besieged city. From the walls they saw how the enemy’s noose was shrinking ever closer, how their black shadows flashed around the lights; the neighing of well-fed horses could be heard, the clink of weapons, loud laughter could be heard, funny songs people confident of victory - and what is more painful to hear than the laughter and songs of the enemy?

The enemies covered all the streams that fed the city with water, they burned out the vineyards around the walls, trampled the fields, cut down the gardens - the city was open on all sides, and almost every day the guns and muskets of the enemies showered it with cast iron and lead. Troops of soldiers, battle-weary and half-starved, walked gloomily along the narrow streets of the city; From the windows of the houses poured out the groans of the wounded, the cries of delirium, the prayers of women and the cries of children. They talked depressedly, in a low voice and, stopping each other's speech mid-sentence, listened intently - were the enemies about to attack? “...” Without expecting help, exhausted by labor and hunger, people lost hope every day. People were afraid to light lights in the houses, thick darkness filled the streets, and inIn this darkness, like a fish in the depths of a river, a woman silently flashed, her head wrapped in a black cloak. When people saw her, they asked each other:

That's her?

She! - and hid in niches under the gates or, with their heads down, silently ran past her, and the patrol commanders sternly warned her: “Are you on the street again, Monna Marianna? Look, you can be killed, and no one will look for the culprit for this...” She straightened up and waited, but the patrol passed by, not daring or disdainful to raise a hand against her; armed people walked around her like a corpse, and she remained in the darkness and again quietly, lonelyly walked somewhere, from street to street, dumb and black, like the embodiment of the misfortunes of the city, and around, pursuing her, sad sounds crawled pitifully: moans, crying, prayers and gloomy talk of soldiers who had lost hope of victory.

How can you title the 1st part? (Unbearable life surrounded by enemies.)

Make up characteristics - five verses according to the text of Part I in groups:

What questions arise when reading part 1?

(Who is this woman whom all the people of the besieged city know and avoid?)

Reading part 2.

A citizen and mother, she thought about her son and homeland: at the head of the people who were destroying the city was her son, a cheerful and ruthless handsome man; just recently she looked at him with pride, as her precious gift to her homeland, as a good force born by her to help the people of the city - the nest where she herself was born, gave birth to and nurtured him. Hundreds of unbreakable threads connected her heart with ancient stones, from which her ancestors built houses and laid the walls of the city, with the earth where the bones of her blood lay, with legends, songs and hopes of people - the heart of the mother of the person closest to him lost and cried: it was like scales, but, weighing the love for her son and the city , could not understand what was easier and what was harder.

- Husband?

- No.

- Brother?

- Son. The husband was killed thirteen days ago, and this one today,” and, rising from her knees, the mother of the murdered man humbly said:

– Madonna sees everything, knows everything, and I thank her!

- For what? – asked the first one, and she answered her:

“Now that he died honestly fighting for his homeland, I can say that he aroused fear in me: he was frivolous, he loved too much.” have a fun life, and it was fearful that for the sake of this he would betray the city, as did the son of Marianne, the enemy of God and people, the leader of our enemies, damn him, damn the womb that bore him!..

Covering her face, Marianna walked away, and in the morning...

What can you call this part? Write as a title any phrase suitable for the title. (A mother's heart is like a scale; the mother of a traitor is like the personification of death.)

– What do you think can happen after, because it ends with the word “and in the morning...”?

Reading part 3.

The next day the mother appeared to the defenders of the city and said:

- Either kill me because my son has become your enemy, or open the gates for me, I will go to him...

They have replyed:

“You are a human being, and your homeland should be dear to you; your son is as much an enemy for you as he is for each of us.

“I am a mother, I love him and I consider myself to blame for the fact that he is what he has become.”

Then they began to consult what to do with her, and decided:

- In honor, we cannot kill you for your son’s sin, we know that you could not instill this terrible sin in him, and we can guess how you must suffer. But the city does not need you even as a hostage - your son does not care about you, we think that he has forgotten you, the devil - and - here is your punishment if you find that you deserve it! This seems worse to us than death!

- Yes! - she said. - This is worse!

It was as if she was carrying a cup full of moisture in her hands under her cloak, and was afraid of spilling it; As she moved away, she became smaller and smaller, and to those who looked at her from the wall, it seemed as if despondency and hopelessness were leaving them with her. They saw how she stopped halfway and, throwing the hood of her cloak from her head, looked at the city for a long time, and there, in the enemy camp, they noticed her, alone in the middle of the field, and, slowly, carefully, black figures like her were approaching her .

What would you call this part? (Punishment is worse than death; Mothers recognize only weapons that protect life; The hard road to my son.)

Reading part 4.

They came up and asked who she was and where she was going?

“Your leader is my son,” she said, and not a single soldier doubted it. They walked next to her, praising how smart and brave her son was. She listened to them, raising her head proudly, and was not surprised - this is how her son should be!

And here she is in front of the man whom she knew nine months before his birth, in front of the one whom she had never felt outside her heart - he is in silk and velvet before her, and his weapon is in precious ones. Everything is as it should be; This is exactly how she saw him many times in her dreams - rich, famous and loved.

- Mother! - he said, kissing her hands. “You came to me, it means you understood me, and tomorrow I will take this damned city!”

“The one you were born in,” she reminded.

Intoxicated by his exploits, maddened by the thirst for even greater glory, he spoke to her with the daring fervor of youth:

-I was born in the world and for the world, to amaze it! I spared this city for your sake - it is like a thorn in my foot and prevents me from moving as quickly to glory as I want. But now - tomorrow - I will destroy the nest of stubborn people!

Where every stone knows and remembers you as a child,” she said.

Stones are mute, if a person does not make them speak, let the mountains speak about me, that’s what I want!

But – people? – she asked.

Oh yes, I remember them, mother! And I need them, because only in the memory of people are heroes immortal! She said:

A hero is one who creates life in spite of death, who conquers death...

No! - he objected. He who destroys is as glorious as he who builds cities. Look - we don’t know whether Aeneas or Romulus built Rome, but we definitely know the name of Alaric and other heroes who destroyed this city.

Who survived all the names, the mother reminded.

So he spoke to her until sunset, she interrupted his crazy speeches less and less, and her proud head sank lower and lower.

The mother creates, she protects, and to talk about destruction in front of her means to speak against her, but he did not know this and denied the meaning of her life.

Mother is always against death; the hand that introduces death into people's homes is hateful and hostile to Mothers - her son did not see this, blinded by the cold brilliance of glory that kills the heart. And he did not know that the Mother is an animal as intelligent, merciless as fearless, if it comes to the life that she, the Mother, creates and protects.

She sat bent over, and through the open canvas of the leader’s rich tent she could see the city where she first experienced the sweet trembling of conception and the painful spasms of the birth of a child who now wants to destroy.

The crimson rays of the sun drenched the walls and towers of the city in blood, the glass windows shone ominously, the whole city seemed wounded, and the red juice of life flowed through hundreds of wounds; Time passed, and then the city began to turn black, like a corpse, and the stars lit up above it, like funeral candles.

She saw there in dark houses where they were afraid to light a fire so as not to attract the attention of enemies, on streets full of darkness, the smell of corpses, the suppressed whispers of people awaiting death - she saw everything and everyone; something familiar and dear stood close to her, silently awaiting her decision, and she felt like a mother to all the people of her city. Clouds descended from the black peaks of the mountains into the valley and, like winged horses, flew towards the city, doomed to death.

“Maybe we will fall on him at night,” said her son, if the night is dark enough! It’s inconvenient to kill when the sun is looking into your eyes and the shine of the weapon blinds them - there are always a lot of wrong blows,” he said, examining his sword. His mother told him:

- Come here, lay your head on my chest, rest, remembering how cheerful and kind you were as a child and how everyone loved you...

He obeyed, lay down on her lap and closed his eyes, saying:

I love only fame and you, because you gave birth to me as I am.

What about women? – she asked, leaning over him.

There are a lot of them, they quickly get boring, like everything too sweet. She asked him for the last time:

And you don't want to have children?

For what? To be killed? Someone like me will kill them, and it will hurt me, and then I will be old and weak to avenge them.

You are beautiful, but barren as lightning,” she said with a sigh.

“Yes, like lightning...” he answered, smiling, and dozed off on his mother’s chest, like a child.

What were you thinking while reading this part of the text? What did you experience?

What would you call this part? (The cold glare of glory that kills the heart.)

Describe the woman's son and the city that is about to be destroyed:

What do you think a mother will do to protect her beloved city from her own son? (Students talk about possible actions of the mother.)

Why does a mother need her son to calm down and fall asleep? What do you think about it?

Reading part 5.

Then she, covering him with her black cloak, stuck a knife into his heart, and he, shuddering, died immediately - after all, she knew well where her son’s heart beats. And, throwing the corpse from her knees at the feet of the astonished guards, she said towards the city:

– Man – I did everything I could for my homeland; Mother - I stay with my son! It’s too late for me to give birth to another, no one needs my life.

And the same knife, still warm from his blood - her blood - she plunged into her chest with a firm hand and also correctly hit her heart - if it hurts, it’s easy to hit.

What impression did this story make on you?

III. Reflection.

What is the name of this story?

Write a syncwine on the topic “Mom”, “Life” or

Essay “What is the meaning of human life?”

Students write for 5–10 minutes and read each other’s essays.

One of the students, chosen from the group, reads his work to the “Author’s Chair” class.

What is the meaning of human life?

Why does a person live? Very often, life is compared to a road that must be walked with dignity from beginning to end, from birth to death. On this road there are stations at different times: childhood, adolescence, youth, adulthood, old age. How to go this way? What is his ultimate goal? What do you need to be like for people to remember? kind words? Probably the greatest purpose of life is to benefit people, near and far, to increase the goodness in those around us. And goodness is, first of all, the happiness of all people. It is made up of many things, and every time life presents a person with a task that one must be able to solve.

M. Gorky wrote about the suffering of a mother who raised a traitorous son in his story “Mother of a Traitor.” The mother “creates and protects life”, dreams of the glory and well-being of her son. The woman feels guilty that she raised a cruel, proud man who wants to destroy his hometown. Unable to reason with, convince, or stop her son, the mother first kills him and then herself. This double murder gives life hometown, convinces enemies of the meaninglessness of destruction, restores the good name of the mother who protects LIFE.

So, the path to goodness is the meaning of human life. To be faithful to your family, friends, city, country, people - to walk this path with dignity.

Thank you all for your frankness, we will continue our conversation about the work of M. Gorky at next lesson, to which you are invited to readstory “Old Woman Izergil” - Homework.

Studying the chapter-by-chapter summary of Gorky’s novel “Mother,” one can understand why this work was first published in the USA. The author published it only in 1907–1908, it had major changes regarding censorship. Original without changes Russian readers were able to see it after.

In contact with

History of creation

Although work on the work took place in mid-1906, the first sketches were made back in 1903. By mid-October, Gorky moved from America closer to Russia and - to Italy, where he finishes the first edition. The history of the creation of the novel is connected with the close acquaintance of the author and the Sormovo workers. The material for creating the novel “Mother” was the actions taking place at the Sormovo plant in Nizhny Novgorod.

He witnessed the preparations for the May demonstration and the trial of its participants. Close communication with the workforce of the enterprise in 1901–1902. allowed Gorky to collect material that served basis for creating a novel, where the main character Pavel Vlasov and his friend Andrei Nakhodka experience similar events.

Important! The author's attention is paid to the strength of the protesting oppressed class, called the proletariat. It reflects his struggles in others as well. early works. For example, the play “Bourgeois”, which reveals the image of a worker revolutionary, or “Enemies”, which depicts the events of the first Russian revolution.

Main character's family

The image of Pavel Vlasov in Gorky’s novel “Mother” begins with a description of the hero at the age of 14. The main character's father's name was Mikhail, he was a factory mechanic who was disliked by his colleagues. Rude, grumpy character, reflected in loved ones: his wife and child were periodically beaten. Before his death, coming home from work, he decided to teach his son a lesson, to pull his hair. Pavel grabbed a heavy hammer - his father was afraid to touch the young man. After the incident Mikhail became isolated, and when he died from a hernia, no one was sorry.

After this, Pavel continues to work at the factory. Suddenly he changes, he starts going for walks on holidays, bringing and reading forbidden literature. Mother explains her behavior desire to know the truth, for which they can be sent to hard labor, put in prison.

Every Saturday revolutionaries gather in the hero's house. They read books, sing forbidden songs, characterize the political system, and discuss the lives of workers.

Mother understands: “socialist” - scary word, however, he sympathizes with his son’s comrades. Nilovna is only 40 years old, but the author describes her as an elderly woman, broken by a difficult hopeless life and a difficult fate.

Plot development

Maxim Gorky in the novel “Mother” revealed Nilovna's motherly love: She becomes closer to her son’s friends, while her relationship with Pavel becomes better. Among the guests visiting the house, the author identifies several:

Natasha is a young girl from a wealthy family who left her parents and came to work as a teacher;
Nikolai Ivanovich - well-read, clever man, can always find interesting topic and tell the workers;
Sashenka is the daughter of a landowner who left her family for the sake of an idea;
Andrey Nakhodka is a young man who grew up an orphan.

A retelling of the summary of Gorky's novel "Mother" reveals the life of revolutionaries. Nilovna feels that Pavel and Sashenka love each other However, for the good of the revolution, young people refuse to start a family, as this may distract from an important matter. Andrey Nakhodka understands what it is mother's love: the mistress of the house treats him like family. Soon the Vlasovs invite him to live with them, and he agrees.

The promotion of the plot and the next presentation of the image of Pavel Mikhailovich Vlasov in Gorky’s novel “Mother” begins with an episode called "swamp penny". Summary is as follows: the factory management imposes an additional tax on the already small wages of the workers. It will be intended for the development of swamp lands located near the walls of the enterprise. Main character decides to pay attention to this and writes a note in the city newspaper. The traitor's mother is called to take the text to the editor. At this time, he himself is leading a rally taking place at the plant. However, the director calms the crowd from the first word and sends everyone to their jobs. Pavel understands that people do not trust him because young age. At night, the gendarmes take Pavel to prison.

Traitor's Mother

What Gorky’s work “Mother” is about becomes clear from the first chapters. Main issues is to reveal the image and spirit of the workers, fighting against the current government and extortions. After reading the novel, the name of the main character’s mother would hardly have been remembered if not for the subsequent events in which she finds herself in the foreground of the novel’s plot. Gradually analyzing the meaning of the book chapter by chapter, the motivation for the elderly woman’s actions becomes clear: this is maternal love.

Immediately after the arrest, Nilovna’s son’s friend comes to her and asks for help. The fact is that a total of 50 people were arrested, but it is possible to prove non-involvement in the rally only by continuing distributing leaflets. The mother of her traitorous son agrees to carry the papers to the factory. She begins delivering lunches to the factory for the workers, which are prepared by a woman she knows; she takes advantage of the fact that the old woman is not searched. After some time, the main characters, Andrei Nakhodka and Pavel Vlasov, are released.

Attention! In Maxim Gorky’s novel “Mother,” the image of the main characters is depicted in such a way that after leaving prison they are not afraid, but continue to engage in underground activities.

Arrest again

Workers are preparing for the May Day holiday. It is planned to march through the city streets and give a speech at the factory square. Pavel cannot think of anything except that he will lead the procession, carrying the red banner of freedom in his hands.

However, gendarmes and soldiers block the demonstrators' path and disperse the procession. Many end up behind bars, and Vlasov among them.

Nilovna was present when her son was arrested, she saw everything. The one who wrote “Mother” understood perfectly what was going on in a mother’s heart. Further development The events are characterized by the spontaneous and thoughtless actions of an elderly woman: she picks up a piece of the banner that her only son was carrying and takes it home.

After the events described, the old woman is taken by Nikolai Ivanovich (such conditions were agreed upon in advance between him, Andrei and Pavel). The flame of desire burns in a mother's heart better life and simultaneous resentment for the fate of her son, so she leads active underground activities:

distributes underground books and magazines;
talks with people, listens to stories;
convinces them to join.

Traveling around the province, Nilovna sees how poor the common people live, unable to take advantage of the enormous wealth. native land. Returning back, the mother hurries to meet Pavel. Friends worry about their best comrade and try to arrange an escape, initiated by Sashenka. The hero refuses help, explaining his actions by his desire to make a speech before the court.

At trial

Maxim Gorky wrote about Paul's trial as sad picture past tense: the speeches of a lawyer, a judge, a prosecutor are perceived as one. The words of Pavel Vlasov sounded loudly and boldly. He did not say words of justification, the young man tried to explain to those present who they were - people of new times. Although they are called rebels, they are socialists. The slogan consists of simple, understandable words:

Power to the people!
Means of production for the people!
Labor is obligatory for all citizens!

The judge reacted negatively to the young revolutionary’s statements and passed a sentence: “All detainees will be sent to a settlement in Siberia.” The mother is skeptical about the verdict for her son, realizing the court's decision only after some time. Nilovna does not believe in the possibility of separation from her only Pavel for many years.

The problems of Gorky's novel "Mother" touch upon last chapters works. The court pronounces a verdict: the accused refer to the settlement. Sashenka is going to follow her lover, Nilovna plans to come if her son has grandchildren.

However, during transportation of printed judicial speech Paul in a neighboring town, an elderly woman recognizes in the look young man familiar features.

He was present in the courthouse, next to the prison. The guy whispers to the watchman, who approaches his mother and calls her a thief. The latter, in turn, calls the accusation a lie, handing out leaflets with her son’s speech to those around her. The gendarme arrives in time and grabs the woman by the throat; in response, wheezing and exclamations are heard from the people who see this spectacle.

Gradually following the chapters, the woman does not realize: from an ordinary mother, whose son is in prison, she has turned into the mother of a traitor. A brief summary of the plot of the work does not allow one to fully plunge into the cycle of problems that have washed over the simple Russian heroine. The problems of Gorky's novel "Mother" affect a wide range of popularity revolutionary ideas among the working class.

The author shows life as the depicted object ordinary person, becoming a person, capable of thinking and reflecting. The work is a socio-political book that pushes to identify a promising idea of the emergence of a persistent struggle against the oppressive class.

Brief summary of Gorky's novel "Mother"

Analysis of Maxim Gorky's novel "Mother"

Conclusion

Separately, it should be mentioned that the main characters of Gorky’s novel “Mother” were invented after meeting revolutionaries, because of which the author had to emigrate to America. The significance of the novel lies in the fact that the author wrote for millions, he tried to make his works simple and understandable. But, despite this, after the novel was written and published, Gorky was not satisfied with his work, just like many others.