Essay “The moral quest of Andrei Bolkonsky. Aristocracy (Nobility, High Society, Light) What is moral quest
Intellectual competition in literature
Competition of scholars on the works of L. N. Tolstoy
1. In the defense of which city did Tolstoy take part? Which work reflected the writer’s impressions during this period?
(In the defense of Sevastopol. “Sevastopol Stories.”)
2. What was the name of the main character of Tolstoy’s autobiographical trilogy?
(Nikolenka Irteniev.)
3. What was the name of the magazine published by Tolstoy?
("Yasnaya Polyana".)
4. Which of the famous partisans of the Patriotic War of 1812 was portrayed by Tolstoy in the novel “War and Peace” in the image of Vasily Denisov?
(Denis Davydov.)
5. Name Tolstoy’s most famous plays.
(“The Power of Darkness”, “The Fruits of Enlightenment”, “The Living Corpse”.)
6. After the publication of which novel was Tolstoy excommunicated from the church?
("Resurrection".)
7. Name the memorial and literary museums associated with the life and work of Tolstoy.
(Museum-Estate in Moscow, Museum-Estate Yasnaya Polyana, Museum at the station "Lev Tolstoy" - former "Astapovo".)
8. Where is Leo Tolstoy buried?
(In Yasnaya Polyana.)
9. Who owns these thoughts: “To die, so that they would kill me tomorrow, so that I wouldn’t exist... so that all this would exist, but I wouldn’t exist...” and “I can’t, I don’t want to die, I love this life, I love this grass, earth, air...”?
(Andrei Bolkonsky.)
10. Whose cold prudence is described by Tolstoy in the passage: “At that very moment, the offensive thought came to him that he could leave Moscow without achieving his goal and losing his work for nothing... “I can always arrange so that I rarely see her. .. But the work has begun and must be done.” He blushed, looked up at her and told her: “You know my feelings for you!”
(Boris Trubetskoy declares his love to Julie Karagina, who disgusts him, but is rich and capable of introducing him to high society.)
11. Who is described with warm humor by Tolstoy in this passage: “Having asked which one is quieter... climbed onto the horse, grabbed the mane, pressed the heels of his inverted legs to the horse’s belly and, feeling that his glasses were falling off, and that he was unable to taking his hands off the mane and reins, he galloped after the general, exciting the smiles of the staff who were looking at him from the mound”?
(Pierre Bezukhov.)
12. Whose words are these: “Drawing rooms, gossip, balls, vanity, insignificance - this is a vicious circle from which I cannot get out...”?
(Andrei Bolkonsky.)
13. Whose words are these: “No, look what a moon it is!.. Oh, how lovely! So I would squat down, like this, grab myself under the knees... and fly”?
(Natasha Rostova.)
14. Whose words are these: “In the courts there is theft, in the army there is only one stick: shagistika, settlements - they torture the people, they stifle education. What is young, honestly, is ruined! Everyone can see that it can’t go on like this”?
(Pierre Bezukhov.)
15. Whose words are these: “The court, in my opinion, is only an administrative tool for maintaining the existing order of things, beneficial to our class”?
(Prince Nekhlyudov, “Resurrection.”)
16. Who and about whom speaks in this way: “Your son shows hope of becoming an officer, out of the ordinary in his studies, firmness and diligence. I consider myself lucky to have such a subordinate at hand”?
(Kutuzov in a letter to the old Prince Bolkonsky about his son, Andrei Bolkonsky.)
17. Who and about whom responded like this: “Hippolytus is at least a calm fool, and Anatole is a restless one”?
(Vasily Kuragin about his sons.)
18. Whose opinion and about whom is expressed in the words: “This is not a person, but a machine, and an evil machine when it gets angry”?
(Anna Karenina about her husband.)
19. Whose portrait is this: “...a short, very handsome young man with definite and dry features. Everything in his figure, from his tired, bored look to his quiet, measured step, represented the sharpest contrast with his little lively wife.”
(Andrei Bolkonsky.)
20. Whose portrait is this: “He was clumsy. Fat, taller than usual, broad, with huge red hands, he, as they say, did not know how to enter the salon and even less knew how to leave it... Moreover, he was absent-minded?
(Pierre Bezukhov.)
21. Whose portrait is this: “Black-eyed, with a big mouth, an ugly, but lively girl, with her childish open shoulders... black curls that have bunched back, thin bare arms and small legs”?
(Natasha Rostova.)
22. Whose portrait is this: “... in a court embroidered uniform, in stockings, shoes and stars, with a bright expression on a flat face... he approached Anna Pavlovna, kissed her hand, exposing her to his perfumed and shining bald head, and sat down calmly on the couch"?
(Prince Vasily Kuragin.)
23. Whose portrait is this: “...a short man, with an oriental type of firm and motionless face, a dry, not yet old man, followed the commander-in-chief”?
(Bagration.)
24. Whose portrait is this: “... a little man... with an unpleasantly feigned smile on his face, with a fat chest... a round belly and fat thighs of short legs”, “a narcissistic and arrogant ruler, intoxicated with success and blinded by glory” ?
(Napoleon.)
25. Whose portrait is this: “...the face was clouded with idiocy and invariably expressed self-confident disgust, and the body was thin and weak”?
(Hippolyta.)
26. Whose portrait is this: “She was charming in her spacious black dress, her full arms with bracelets were charming, her firm neck with a string of pearls was charming... curly hair... graceful light movements of her small legs and arms...”?
(Anna Karenina.)
27. Whose portrait is this: “All my life... I lived and worked in official areas that deal with the reflection of life. And every time he came across life itself, he distanced himself from it”?
(Alexey Karenin.)
28. Which of Tolstoy’s characters sought to marry his “restless fool” son to a rich princess?
(Prince Vasily Kuragin.)
29. Which of Tolstoy’s characters begged his parents, during the mass departure of the population from Moscow in 1812, to leave their things and take the wounded with them instead?
(Natasha Rostova.)
30. Which of Tolstoy’s characters is “a faithful executor - a guardian of order and a bodyguard of the sovereign... serviceable, cruel and unable to express his devotion except by cruelty”?
(Minister Arakcheev.)
31. Which of Tolstoy’s characters ordered the cleared road to be covered with snow again after learning that Vasily Kuragin was coming to his estate?
(Old Prince Bolkonsky.)
32. Which of Tolstoy’s characters begged to be left in the partisan detachment and given the opportunity to participate “in the real business,” and the next day died heroically in a clash with the French?
(Petya Rostov.)
33. Which of Tolstoy’s characters, commanding a battery, held back the onslaught of the French army with four unprotected cannons, forgetting about fear and death, and became lost and timid among the commanders?
(Captain Tushin.)
34. Which of Tolstoy’s characters thought of winning military glory, not by serving and receiving awards at headquarters, but in battle, by his bravery?
(Andrey Bolkonsky.)
35. Which of Tolstoy’s heroines resignedly endured the despotism of her old father, was submissive, religious, timid, thought about the happiness of other people, but did not expect happiness for herself?
A woman's dress rustled in the next room. As if waking up, Prince Andrei shook himself, and his face took on the same expression that it had in Anna Pavlovna’s living room. Pierre swung his legs off the sofa. The princess entered. She was already in a different, homely, but equally elegant and fresh dress. Prince Andrei stood up, politely moving a chair for her. “Why, I often think,” she spoke, as always, in French, hastily and fussily seating herself in a chair, “why didn’t Anet get married?” How stupid you all are, messieurs, for not marrying her. Excuse me, but you don’t understand anything about women. What a debater you are, Monsieur Pierre! “I keep arguing with your husband too; I don’t understand why he wants to go to war,” said Pierre, without any embarrassment (so common in the relationship of a young man to a young woman) addressing the princess. The princess perked up. Apparently, Pierre's words touched her to the quick. - Oh, that’s what I’m saying! - she said. “I don’t understand, I absolutely don’t understand, why men can’t live without war? Why do we women don’t want anything, don’t need anything? Well, you be the judge. I tell him everything: here he is his uncle’s adjutant, the most brilliant position. Everyone knows him so much and appreciates him so much. The other day at the Apraksins’ I heard a lady ask: “C”est ça le fameux prince André?” Ma parole d'honneur! - She laughed. - He is so accepted everywhere. He could very easily be an aide-de-camp. You know, the sovereign spoke to him very graciously. Annette and I talked about how this would be very easy to arrange. How do you think? Pierre looked at Prince Andrei and, noticing that his friend did not like this conversation, did not answer. - When are you leaving? - he asked. - Ah! “ne me parlez pas de ce départ, ne m"en parlez pas. Je ne veux pas en entendre parler,” the princess spoke in the same capriciously playful tone in which she spoke with Hippolyte in the living room and which obviously did not suit the family circle , where Pierre was, as it were, a member. - Today, when I thought that I needed to break off all these dear relationships... And then, you know, André? - She blinked significantly at her husband. - J"ai peur, j"ai peur! - she whispered, shaking her back. The husband looked at her as if he were surprised to notice that someone else besides him and Pierre was in the room; however, with cold politeness he turned inquiringly to his wife: - What are you afraid of, Lisa? “I can’t understand,” he said. - That's how all men are selfish; everyone, everyone is selfish! Because of his own whims, God knows why, he abandons me, locks me in the village alone. “With your father and sister, don’t forget,” Prince Andrei said quietly. - Still alone, without my friends... And he wants me not to be afraid. Her tone was already grumbling, her lip lifted, giving her face not a joyful, but a brutal, squirrel-like expression. She fell silent, as if finding it indecent to talk about her pregnancy in front of Pierre, when that was the essence of the matter. “Still, I don’t understand, de quoi vous avez peur,” said Prince Andrei slowly, without taking his eyes off his wife. The princess blushed and waved her hands desperately. - Non, André, je dis que vous avez tellement, tellement change... “Your doctor tells you to go to bed earlier,” said Prince Andrei. - You should go to bed. The princess said nothing, and suddenly her short, whiskered sponge began to tremble; Prince Andrei, standing up and shrugging his shoulders, walked around the room. Pierre looked in surprise and naively through his glasses, first at him, then at the princess, and began to stir, as if he, too, wanted to get up, but again changed his mind. “What does it matter to me that Monsieur Pierre is here,” the little princess suddenly said, and her pretty face suddenly blossomed into a tearful grimace. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time, André: why did you change so much towards me?” What I did to you? You're going to the army, you don't feel sorry for me. For what? - Lise! - Prince Andrei just said; but in this word there was a request, a threat, and, most importantly, an assurance that she herself would repent of her words; but she continued hastily: “You treat me like I’m sick or like a child.” I see everything. Were you like this six months ago? “Lise, I ask you to stop,” said Prince Andrei even more expressively. Pierre, who became more and more agitated during this conversation, stood up and approached the princess. He seemed unable to bear the sight of tears and was ready to cry himself. - Calm down, princess. It seems so to you, because, I assure you, I myself experienced... why... because... No, excuse me, a stranger is superfluous here... No, calm down... Goodbye... Prince Andrei stopped him by the hand. - No, wait, Pierre. The princess is so kind that she will not want to deprive me of the pleasure of spending the evening with you. “No, he only thinks about himself,” said the princess, unable to hold back her angry tears. “Lise,” said Prince Andrei dryly, raising his tone to the level that shows that patience is exhausted. Suddenly the angry, squirrel-like expression of the princess’s beautiful face was replaced by an attractive and compassion-arousing expression of fear; She glanced from under her beautiful eyes at her husband, and on her face appeared that timid and confessing expression that appears on a dog, quickly but weakly waving its lowered tail. - Mon Dieu, mon Dieu! - said the princess and, picking up the fold of her dress with one hand, she walked up to her husband and kissed him on the forehead. “Bonsoir, Lise,” said Prince Andrei, getting up and politely, like a stranger, kissing his hand. The friends were silent. Neither one nor the other began to speak. Pierre glanced at Prince Andrei, Prince Andrei rubbed his forehead with his small hand. “Let’s go have dinner,” he said with a sigh, standing up and heading towards the door. They entered the elegantly, newly, richly decorated dining room. Everything, from napkins to silver, earthenware and crystal, bore that special imprint of novelty that happens in the household of young spouses. In the middle of dinner, Prince Andrei leaned on his elbow and, like a man who has had something on his heart for a long time and suddenly decides to speak out, with an expression of nervous irritation in which Pierre had never seen his friend before, he began to say: - Never, never get married, my friend; Here's my advice to you, don't get married until you tell yourself that you did everything you could, and until you stop loving the woman you chose, until you see her clearly, and then you will make a cruel and irreparable mistake. Marry an old man, good for nothing... Otherwise, everything that is good and lofty in you will be lost. Everything will be spent on little things. Yes Yes Yes! Don't look at me with such surprise. If you expect something from yourself in the future, then at every step you will feel that everything is over for you, everything is closed, except for the living room, where you will stand on the same level as a court lackey and an idiot... So what!.. He waved his hand energetically. Pierre took off his glasses, causing his face to change, showing even more kindness, and looked at his friend in surprise. “My wife,” continued Prince Andrei, “is a wonderful woman.” This is one of those rare women with whom you can be at peace with your honor; but, my God, what I wouldn’t give now not to be married! I’m telling you this alone and first, because I love you. Prince Andrei, saying this, looked even less like than before that Bolkonsky, who, lounging, sat in Anna Pavlovna’s chair and through his teeth, squinting, spoke French phrases. His dry face trembled with the nervous animation of every muscle; the eyes, in which the fire of life had previously seemed extinguished, now shone with a radiant, bright shine. It was clear that the more lifeless he seemed in ordinary times, the more energetic he was in moments of irritation. “You don’t understand why I’m saying this,” he continued. - After all, this is a whole life story. You say Bonaparte and his career,” he said, although Pierre did not talk about Bonaparte. - You say Bonaparte; but Bonaparte, when he worked, walked step by step towards his goal, he was free, he had nothing but his goal - and he achieved it. But tie yourself to a woman and, like a shackled convict, you lose all freedom. And everything that you have in you of hope and strength, everything only weighs you down and torments you with remorse. Living rooms, gossip, balls, vanity, insignificance - this is a vicious circle from which I cannot escape. I am now going to war, to the greatest war that has ever happened, but I know nothing and am no good for anything. “Je suis très aimable et très caustique,” continued Prince Andrei, “and Anna Pavlovna listens to me.” And this stupid society, without which my wife and these women cannot live... If only you could know what toutes les femmes distinguées and women in general are! My father is right. Selfishness, vanity, stupidity, insignificance in everything - these are women when they show themselves as they are. If you look at them in the light, it seems that there is something, but there is nothing, nothing, nothing! Yes, don’t get married, my soul, don’t get married,” Prince Andrei finished. “It’s funny to me,” said Pierre, “that you yourself, yourself you consider yourself incapable, your life a spoiled life. You have everything, everything is ahead. And you... He did not say, what do you, but his tone already showed how highly he valued his friend and how much he expected from him in the future. “How can he say that!” - thought Pierre. Pierre considered Prince Andrei to be a model of all perfections precisely because Prince Andrei united to the highest degree all those qualities that Pierre did not have and which can be most closely expressed by the concept of willpower. Pierre was always amazed at Prince Andrei's ability to calmly deal with all kinds of people, his extraordinary memory, erudition (he read everything, knew everything, had an idea about everything) and most of all his ability to work and study. If Pierre was often struck by Andrei’s lack of ability for dreamy philosophizing (to which Pierre was especially prone), then in this he saw not a disadvantage, but a strength. In the best, most friendly and simple relationships, flattery or praise is necessary, just as greasing is necessary for the wheels to keep them moving. “Je suis un homme fini,” said Prince Andrei. - What can you say about me? Let’s talk about you,” he said, after a pause and smiling at his comforting thoughts. This smile was reflected on Pierre’s face at the same instant. - What can you say about me? - said Pierre, spreading his mouth into a carefree, cheerful smile. -What am I? Je suis un bâtard! - And he suddenly blushed crimson. It was clear that he made a great effort to say this. - Sans nom, sans fortune... - And well, really... - But he didn’t say, that's right.“I’m free for now, and I feel good.” I just don’t know what to start. I wanted to seriously consult with you. Prince Andrei looked at him with kind eyes. But his glance, friendly and affectionate, still expressed the consciousness of his superiority. “You are dear to me, especially because you are the only living person among our entire world.” You feel good. Choose what you want; it does not matter. You will be good everywhere, but one thing: stop going to these Kuragins and leading this life. So it doesn’t suit you: all these carousings, and hussarism, and everything... “Que voulez-vous, mon cher,” said Pierre, shrugging his shoulders, “les femmes, mon cher, les femmes!” “I don’t understand,” Andrey answered. - Les femmes comme il faut, that’s another matter; but les femmes Kuragin, les femmes et le vin, I don’t understand! Pierre lived with Prince Vasily Kuragin and took part in the wild life of his son Anatole, the same one who was going to be married to Prince Andrei’s sister for correction. - You know what! - said Pierre, as if an unexpectedly happy thought had come to him, - seriously, I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. With this life I can neither decide nor think about anything. My head hurts, I have no money. Today he called me, I won’t go. - Give me your word of honor that you won’t travel? - Honestly! It was already two o'clock in the morning when Pierre left his friend. It was a June St. Petersburg night, a gloomless night. Pierre got into the cab with the intention of going home. But the closer he got, the more he felt it was impossible to fall asleep that night, which seemed more like evening or morning. It was visible in the distance through the empty streets. On the way, Pierre remembered that that evening the usual gambling society was supposed to gather at Anatole Kuragin's place, after which there would usually be a drinking party, ending with one of Pierre's favorite amusements. “It would be nice to go to Kuragin,” he thought. But he immediately remembered his word of honor given to Prince Andrei not to visit Kuragin. But immediately, as happens with people called spineless, he so passionately wanted to once again experience this dissolute life so familiar to him that he decided to go. And immediately the thought occurred to him that this word meant nothing, because even before Prince Andrei, he also gave Prince Anatoly the word to be with him; Finally, he thought that all these honest words were such conventional things that had no definite meaning, especially if you realized that maybe tomorrow he would either die, or something so extraordinary would happen to him that he would no longer be able to neither honest nor dishonest. This kind of reasoning, destroying all his decisions and assumptions, often came to Pierre. He went to Kuragin. Having arrived at the porch of a large house near the Horse Guards barracks, in which Anatole lived, he climbed onto the illuminated porch, onto the stairs, and entered the open door. There was no one in the hall; there were empty bottles, raincoats, and galoshes lying around; there was a smell of wine, and distant talking and shouting could be heard. The game and dinner were already over, but the guests had not yet left. Pierre took off his cloak and entered the first room, where the remains of dinner were standing and one footman, thinking that no one was seeing him, was secretly finishing off unfinished glasses. From the third room you could hear fuss, laughter, screams of familiar voices and the roar of a bear. About eight young people crowded anxiously around the open window. The three were busy with a young bear, which one was dragging on a chain, frightening the other with it. - I'll give Stevens a hundred! - one shouted. - Be careful not to support! - shouted another. - I am for Dolokhov! - shouted the third. - Take them apart, Kuragin. - Well, leave Mishka, there’s a bet here. “One spirit, otherwise it’s lost,” shouted the fourth. - Yakov! Give me a bottle, Yakov! - shouted the owner himself, a tall handsome man standing in the middle of the crowd wearing only a thin shirt open at the middle of his chest. - Stop, gentlemen. Here he is, Petrusha, dear friend,” he turned to Pierre. Another voice of a short man with clear blue eyes, which was especially striking among all these drunken voices with its sober expression, shouted from the window: - Come here - break up the bet! - It was Dolokhov, a Semyonovsky officer, a famous gambler and thief, who lived with Anatole. Pierre smiled, looking around him cheerfully. - I don’t understand anything. What's the matter? - he asked. - Wait, he's not drunk. Give me the bottle,” said Anatole and, taking a glass from the table, approached Pierre. - First of all, drink. Pierre began drinking glass after glass, looking from under his brows at the drunken guests who were again crowded at the window, and listening to their conversation. Anatole poured him wine and told him that Dolokhov was betting with the Englishman Stevens, a sailor who was here, that he, Dolokhov, would drink a bottle of rum while sitting on the third floor window with his legs hanging out. “Well, drink it all,” said Anatole, handing the last glass to Pierre, “otherwise I won’t let you in!” “No, I don’t want to,” Pierre said, pushing Anatole away and went to the window. Dolokhov held the Englishman’s hand and clearly, distinctly spelled out the terms of the bet, addressing mainly Anatole and Pierre. Dolokhov was a man of average height, curly hair and light blue eyes. He was about twenty-five years old. He did not wear a mustache, like all infantry officers, and his mouth, the most striking feature of his face, was completely visible. The lines of this mouth were remarkably finely curved. In the middle, the upper lip energetically dropped onto the strong lower lip like a sharp wedge, and something like two smiles constantly formed in the corners, one on each side; and all together, and especially in combination with a firm, insolent, intelligent look, it created such an impression that it was impossible not to notice this face. Dolokhov was a poor man, without any connections. And despite the fact that Anatole lived in tens of thousands, Dolokhov lived with him and managed to position himself in such a way that Anatole and everyone who knew them respected Dolokhov more than Anatole. Dolokhov played all the games and almost always won. No matter how much he drank, he never lost his clarity of mind. Both Kuragin and Dolokhov at that time were celebrities in the world of rakes and revelers in St. Petersburg. A bottle of rum was brought; the frame that did not allow anyone to sit on the outer slope of the window was broken out by two footmen, apparently in a hurry and timid from the advice and shouts of the surrounding gentlemen. Anatole walked up to the window with his victorious look. He wanted to break something. He pushed the lackeys away and pulled the frame, but the frame did not give up. He broke the glass. “Come on, strong man,” he turned to Pierre. Pierre took hold of the crossbars, pulled, and with a crash, he broke the oak frame and twisted it in some places. “Get out, otherwise they’ll think I’m holding back,” said Dolokhov. “The Englishman is bragging... huh?.. good?..” said Anatole. “Okay,” said Pierre, looking at Dolokhov, who, taking a bottle of rum in his hands, was approaching the window from which the light of the sky and the morning and evening dawns merging on it could be seen. Dolokhov, with a bottle of rum in his hand, jumped up onto the window. - Listen! - he shouted, standing on the windowsill and addressing the room. Everyone fell silent. - I bet (he spoke French so that an Englishman could understand him, and did not speak this language very well). I bet you fifty imperials, would you like a hundred? - he added, turning to the Englishman. “No, fifty,” said the Englishman. - Okay, for fifty imperials - that I will drink the entire bottle of rum without taking it from my mouth, I will drink it while sitting outside the window, right here (he bent down and showed the sloping ledge of the wall outside the window), and without holding on to anything... . So?.. “Very good,” said the Englishman. Anatole turned to the Englishman and, taking him by the button of his tailcoat and looking down at him (the Englishman was short), began repeating to him the terms of the bet in English. “Wait,” Dolokhov shouted, knocking the bottle on the window to attract attention. - Wait, Kuragin; listen. If anyone does the same, then I pay one hundred imperials. Do you understand? The Englishman nodded his head, not giving any indication as to whether he intended to accept this new bet or not. Anatole did not let go of the Englishman, and, despite the fact that he nodded, indicating that he understood everything, Anatole translated Dolokhov’s words to him in English. A young thin boy, a life hussar, who had lost that evening, climbed onto the window, leaned out and looked down. - Ooh! - he said, looking out the window at the stone sidewalk. - Attention! - Dolokhov shouted and pulled the officer from the window, who, entangled in his spurs, awkwardly jumped into the room. Having placed the bottle on the windowsill so that it would be convenient to get it, Dolokhov carefully and quietly climbed out the window. Dropping his legs and leaning both hands on the edges of the window, he took a moment, sat down, let go of his hands, moved to the right, to the left and took out a bottle. Anatole brought two candles and put them on the windowsill, although it was already quite light. Dolokhov's back in a white shirt and his curly head were illuminated from both sides. Everyone crowded around the window. The Englishman stood in front. Pierre smiled and said nothing. One of those present, older than the others, with a frightened and angry face, suddenly moved forward and wanted to grab Dolokhov by the shirt. - Gentlemen, this is nonsense; he will be killed to death,” said this more prudent man. Anatole stopped him. “Don’t touch it, you’ll scare him and he’ll kill himself.” Eh?.. What then?.. Eh?.. Dolokhov turned around, straightening himself and again spreading his arms. “If anyone else bothers me,” he said, rarely letting words slip through his clenched and thin lips, “I’ll bring him down here now.” Well!.. Saying “Well!”, he turned again, let go of his hands, took the bottle and brought it to his mouth, threw his head back and threw his free hand up for leverage. One of the footmen, who began to pick up the glass, stopped in a bent position, not taking his eyes off the window and Dolokhov’s back. Anatole stood straight, eyes open. The Englishman, his lips thrust forward, looked from the side. The one who stopped him ran to the corner of the room and lay down on the sofa facing the wall. Pierre covered his face, and a weak smile, forgotten, remained on his face, although it now expressed horror and fear. Everyone was silent. Pierre took his hands away from his eyes. Dolokhov was still sitting in the same position, only his head was bent back, so that the curly hair on the back of his head touched the collar of his shirt, and his hand with the bottle rose higher and higher, shuddering and making an effort. The bottle was apparently emptied and at the same time rose, bending its head. “What’s taking so long?” - thought Pierre. It seemed to him that more than half an hour had passed. Suddenly Dolokhov made a backward movement with his back, and his hand trembled nervously; this shudder was enough to move the entire body sitting on the sloping slope. He shifted all over, and his hand and head trembled even more, making an effort. One hand rose to grab the window sill, but dropped again. Pierre closed his eyes again and told himself that he would never open them. Suddenly he felt that everything around him was moving. He looked: Dolokhov was standing on the windowsill, his face was pale and cheerful.- Empty! He threw the bottle to the Englishman, who deftly caught it. Dolokhov jumped from the window. He smelled strongly of rum. - Great! Well done! So bet! Damn you completely! - they shouted from different sides. The Englishman took out his wallet and counted out the money. Dolokhov frowned and remained silent. Pierre jumped onto the window. - Gentlemen! Who wants to bet with me? “I’ll do the same,” he suddenly shouted. “And there’s no need for a bet, that’s what.” They told me to give him a bottle. I'll do it... tell me to give it. - Let it go, let it go! - said Dolokhov, smiling. - What, are you crazy? Who will let you in? “Your head is spinning even on the stairs,” they spoke from different sides. - I'll drink, give me a bottle of rum! - Pierre shouted, hitting the table with a decisive and drunken gesture, and climbed out the window. They grabbed him by the arms; but he was so strong that he pushed the one who approached him far away. “No, you can’t persuade him like that for anything,” said Anatole, “wait, I’ll deceive him.” Look, I bet you, but tomorrow, and now we're all going to ***. “We’re going,” Pierre shouted, “we’re going!.. And we’re taking Mishka with us...” And he grabbed the bear and, hugging and lifting it, began to spin around the room with it.The life quest of Andrei Bolkonsky
/Based on the novel by L.N. Tolstoy "War and Peace"/
Fifteen years (one thousand eight hundred five - one thousand eight hundred twenty
) the history of the country is captured on the pages of the novel “War and Peace”, created by the great genius of Russian literature, Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy.
After reading this magnificent work, we learned about many events of enormous historical significance: about the war against Napoleon, which was waged by the Russian army in alliance with Austria in one thousand eight hundred and five, about
The Patriotic War of one thousand eight hundred and twelve, about the great commanders Kutuzov and Napoleon, about the problems of advanced noble youth in Russia, whose representatives in the novel are Andrei Bolkonsky, Pierre
Bezukhov, Natasha Rostova and others.
In my essay I will talk about Andrei Bolkonsky, who is my ideal. It was for him that the writer destined a difficult fate.
We first meet Prince Andrei at Mrs. Scherer’s ball. Here a handsome young man with “defined and dry features” enters the hall.
Everything about his figure, from his tired, bored look to his quiet, measured step, represented the sharpest contrast with his wife.” It became clear to me that everyone who was in the living room was familiar to him, but, as he wrote
Tolstoy was so tired that he found it boring to look at them and listen to them.”
The son of the chief general, Kutuzov’s adjutant, Prince Andrei Bolkonsky, it seemed to me, was sharply critical of all representatives of secular society. He is irritated by “selfishness, vanity, stupidity, and the insignificance of this society.” Andrei Bolkonsky cannot be satisfied with that brilliant and outwardly varied, but idle and empty life with which people of his class are completely satisfied. Despite the fact that Andrei can stay in St. Petersburg and become an adjutant, he goes to war.
Bolkonsky explains his decision to take part in the war with Napoleon:
To Pierre: “I’m going because the life I lead here, this life, is not for me! "" Living rooms, gossip, balls, vanity, insignificance - this is the vicious circle that Andrei Bolkonsky breaks with a firm hand. He takes his wife to his father in the village, and he himself goes into the active army.
Andrei dreams of military glory, and his hero at the moment is the famous commander Napoleon.
L.N. Tolstoy shows Bolkonsky as a participant in the Battle of Shengraben. Courageous and self-possessed, Prince Andrei is not afraid to go around positions under enemy fire. He was the only one who dared to go to the battery
Tushina with an order to retreat and did not leave the battery until the guns were removed from the position. And only he alone, honest, direct and just, stood up to defend the hero.
Dreams of glory and heroic deeds do not leave him: “... I want this alone, for this alone I live... what should I do if I love nothing but glory, human love.”
In the Battle of Austerlitz, he rushes forward with a banner in his hands, dragging behind him a battalion of retreating soldiers, but, wounded in the head, falls on the field of Austerlitz.
There was nothing above him except “the high sky with quietly creeping clouds.”
Suddenly he sees Napoleon driving around after the battle, enjoying the sight of the dead and wounded, and his hero appeared to him
"a small and insignificant person.... with indifferent and happy views from the misfortune of others."
During the period of recovery, Prince Andrei realized the insignificance of his ambitious plans and petty pride, which resulted in the defeat of the Russian army and the death of many lives, and after the Austerlitz campaign he firmly decided not to serve in military service anymore. He experienced this disappointment very hard, burdened also by personal grief: the death of his wife, for whom Prince Andrei considered himself guilty.
To get rid of active service, he accepted a position in collecting the militia under the command of his father, but he devoted all his strength to raising his son, trying to convince himself that “this is the only thing” left for him in life.
Tolstoy reveals the pessimistic mood of the hero through the description of his portrait. Prince Andrei changed spiritually and externally. His look was “extinct and dead, “devoid of a joyful and cheerful shine.” During this period, he was characterized by deep pessimism and lack of faith in the possibility of human happiness. He comes to the conclusion that he needs to live for himself. Andrey
Bolkonsky is engaged in the improvement of his estate and peasants: he listed three hundred serfs as free cultivators, replaced corvée with quitrent for the rest, and also organized medical care for the peasants and took care of their education. Prince Andrei closely followed all external events of the world and read a lot. But this whole life seemed uninteresting to him; it did not absorb all his strength. Pierre, who came to him, was struck by the change that had taken place in him: in Andrei’s gaze one could see
"concentration and killing."
I read about Andrei Bolkonsky with deep bitterness and disappointment. How could this strong, lively, intelligent man lose faith in his personal life?
No, he must definitely do some serious, necessary work, he must love someone. After all, he is only thirty-one years old, and he considers his life to be over! “No, Andrey is wrong,” I thought. And suddenly there is a meeting with Natasha in Otradnoye! Her enthusiasm and sensitivity, her childhood desires and dreams bring him back to life.
Therefore, completely different feelings are generated in his soul by the sight of lush greenery covering the oak tree, which so recently brought sad and hopeless thoughts to him. Just recently he noticed it. His appearance was in harmony with the hopelessly pessimistic mood of the hero and convinced him of the correctness of his view that life was over for him, “that he should live out his life without doing evil, without worrying and without wanting anything.”
But it turns out our hero was wrong. No, life is not over yet. He believed in her. He developed a desire to engage in social activities. Prince Andrey works in St. Petersburg under the leadership
Speransky, takes part in the reforms he carries out, but soon becomes convinced of the futility of his work under the existing regime and becomes disillusioned with Speransky.
Prince Andrei's love for Natasha was revived to a new, happy life, full of anxiety, excitement and joy. The first meeting with her in Otradnoye, then the accidentally overheard conversation on a spring moonlit night - all this sank into Andrei’s soul as a tender and vivid impression. Natasha appeared before us in the same poetic aura at the ball in St. Petersburg.
This is how the love of Natasha and Andrey began. This love reborn him.
Melancholy, despondency, disappointment, contempt for life disappeared. Faith in the possibility of happiness was revived again.
But it so happened that Andrei’s father, having learned about his son’s decision to marry Natasha, invited him to go abroad for a year. He probably hoped that because of this, the marriage he did not want would not take place. After his engagement to Natasha, Andrei left, leaving her alone. I think he made a mistake. He shouldn't have left Natasha. I won’t talk about how Natasha’s relationship with Anatole developed. Prince Andrei took her passion for this unworthy man very hard. He tried to drown out his torment with practical activities, agreed to serve at Kutuzov’s headquarters in
Turkey. But this did not save him from a mental crisis. He still loves
Natasha, appreciates her sincerity and warmth. This pure and wonderful feeling did not fade away in Andrei’s soul until the end of his life.
The terrible events of the Patriotic War of one thousand eight hundred and twelve brought Prince Andrei back to life. The thirst for activity again took possession of him.
Participation in the national defense of the Fatherland brought him closer to the people. Together with his regiment, he walked a difficult path from the western borders to the village of Borodino.
Now he sees the meaning of his life in serving the Motherland and the people.
During the Patriotic War of one thousand eight hundred and twelve, Prince
Andrei finally breaks with secular society. Death from a wound received on the battlefield of Borodino interrupted his life’s quest
Bolkonsky.
I was very sad to read about Andrei at the end of the novel, but I am sure people like him were later members of secret societies in
Russia, whose activities ended in December one thousand eight hundred and twenty-five. And if Prince Andrei were alive, he would certainly be in the forefront of the defenders of the Russian people.
For more than one hundred and forty years people have been admiring the novel War and Peace, a magnificent, unsurpassed work. Years and centuries will pass, and the epic will excite readers just as it excites us now. What is the secret of such an impact of “War and Peace” on readers? Why are the images created by the artist’s imagination perceived by us as alive?
There can be only one answer: this work was created by a brilliant Russian writer, the greatest realist artist.
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“My wife,” continued Prince Andrei, “is a wonderful woman. This is one of those rare women with whom you can be at peace with your honor; but, my God, what I wouldn’t give now not to be married! I’m telling you this alone and first, because I love you.
Prince Andrei, saying this, looked even less like than before that Bolkonsky, who was lounging in Anna Pavlovna’s chair and, squinting through his teeth, spoke French phrases. His dry face was still trembling with the nervous animation of every muscle; the eyes, in which the fire of life had previously seemed extinguished, now shone with a radiant, bright shine. It was clear that the more lifeless he seemed in ordinary times, the more energetic he was in these moments of almost painful irritation.
“You don’t understand why I’m saying this,” he continued. - After all, this is a whole life story. “You say Bonaparte and his career,” he said, although Pierre did not talk about Bonaparte. - You say Bonaparte; but Bonaparte, when he worked, walked step by step towards his goal, he was free, he had nothing but his goal - and he achieved it. But tie yourself to a woman, and like a shackled convict, you lose all freedom. And everything that you have in you of hope and strength, everything only weighs you down and torments you with remorse. Living rooms, gossip, balls, vanity, insignificance - this is a vicious circle from which I cannot escape. I am now going to war, to the greatest war that has ever happened, but I know nothing and am no good for anything. Je suis tres aimable et tres caustique, [ I'm very sweet and very eater , ] - continued Prince Andrei, - and Anna Pavlovna listens to me. And this stupid society, without which my wife and these women cannot live... If only you could know what it is toutes les femmes distinguees [ all these women of good society ] and women in general! My father is right. Selfishness, vanity, stupidity, insignificance in everything - these are women when they show everything as they are. If you look at them in the light, it seems that there is something, but there is nothing, nothing, nothing! Yes, don’t get married, my soul, don’t get married,” Prince Andrei finished.
It’s funny to me,” said Pierre, “that you consider yourself incapable, that your life is a spoiled life.” You have everything, everything is ahead. And you…
He did not say, what do you, but his tone already showed how highly he valued his friend and how much he expected from him in the future.
“How can he say that!” thought Pierre. Pierre considered Prince Andrei to be a model of all perfections precisely because Prince Andrei united to the highest degree all those qualities that Pierre did not have and which can be most closely expressed by the concept of willpower. Pierre was always amazed at Prince Andrei's ability to calmly deal with all kinds of people, his extraordinary memory, erudition (he read everything, knew everything, had an idea about everything) and most of all his ability to work and study. If Pierre was often struck by Andrei’s lack of ability for dreamy philosophizing (to which Pierre was especially prone), then in this he saw not a disadvantage, but a strength.
In the best, most friendly and simple relationships, flattery or praise is necessary, just as greasing is necessary for the wheels to keep them moving.
Je suis un homme fini, [ I'm a complete loser , ] - said Prince Andrei. - What can I say about me? “Let’s talk about you,” he said, after a pause and smiling at his comforting thoughts.
This smile was reflected on Pierre’s face at the same instant.
What can we say about me? - said Pierre, spreading his mouth into a carefree, cheerful smile. - What am I? Je suis un batard [ I am an illegitimate son! ] - And he suddenly blushed crimson. It was clear that he made a great effort to say this. - Sans nom, sans fortune... [ No name, no fortune... ] And well, really... - But he didn’t say, that's right. - I’m free for now, and I feel good. I just don’t know what to start. I wanted to seriously consult with you.
Prince Andrei looked at him with kind eyes. But his glance, friendly and affectionate, still expressed the consciousness of his superiority.
You are dear to me, especially because you are the only living person among our entire world. You feel good. Choose what you want; it does not matter. You will be good everywhere, but one thing: stop going to these Kuragins and leading this life. So it doesn’t suit you: all these carousings, and hussarism, and everything...
Que voulez-vous, mon cher,” said Pierre, shrugging his shoulders, “les femmes, mon cher, les femmes!” [ What do you want, my dear, women, my dear, women! ]
“I don’t understand,” Andrey answered. - Les femmes comme il faut, [ Decent women , ] that's another matter; but les femmes Kuragin, les femmes et le vin, [ women of Kuragin, women and wine , ] I don't understand!
Pierre lived with Prince Vasily Kuragin and took part in the wild life of his son Anatole, the same one who was going to be married to Prince Andrei’s sister for correction.
You know what,” Pierre said, as if an unexpectedly happy thought had come to him, “seriously, I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.” With this life I can neither decide nor think about anything. My head hurts, I have no money. Today he called me, I won’t go.
Give me your word of honor that you won't go?
Honestly!
IX
It was already two o'clock in the morning when Pierre left his friend. It was a June night, a St. Petersburg night, a gloomless night. Pierre got into the cab with the intention of going home. But the closer he got, the more he felt it was impossible to fall asleep that night, which seemed more like evening or morning. It was visible in the distance through the empty streets. Dear Pierre remembered that that evening the usual gambling society was supposed to gather at Anatole Kuragin's place, after which there would usually be a drinking party, ending with one of Pierre's favorite amusements.
VIII. The friends were silent. Neither one nor the other began to speak. Pierre glanced at Prince Andrei, Prince Andrei rubbed his forehead with his small hand. “Let’s go have dinner,” he said with a sigh, getting up and heading to the door. They entered the elegantly, newly, richly decorated dining room. Everything, from napkins to silver, earthenware and crystal, bore that special imprint of novelty that happens in the household of young spouses. In the middle of dinner, Prince Andrei leaned on his elbow and, like a man who has long had something on his heart and suddenly decides to speak out, with an expression of nervous irritation in which Pierre had never seen his friend before, he began to say: “Never, never get married, my Friend; Here's my advice to you: don't get married until you tell yourself that you did everything you could, and until you stop loving the woman you chose, until you see her clearly; otherwise you will make a cruel and irreparable mistake. Marry an old man, good for nothing... Otherwise, everything that is good and lofty in you will be lost. Everything will be spent on little things. Yes Yes Yes! Don't look at me with such surprise. If you expect something from yourself in the future, then at every step you will feel that everything is over for you, everything is closed, except for the living room, where you will stand on the same level as a court lackey and an idiot... So what!.. He waved his hand energetically. Pierre took off his glasses, causing his face to change, showing even more kindness, and looked at his friend in surprise. “My wife,” continued Prince Andrei, “is a wonderful woman.” This is one of those rare women with whom you can be at peace with your honor; but, my God, what I wouldn’t give now not to be married! I’m telling you this alone and first, because I love you. Prince Andrei, saying this, looked even less like than before that Bolkonsky, who was lounging in Anna Pavlovna’s chair and, squinting through his teeth, spoke French phrases. His dry face trembled with the nervous animation of every muscle; the eyes, in which the fire of life had previously seemed extinguished, now shone with a radiant, bright shine. It was clear that the more lifeless he seemed in ordinary times, the more energetic he was in these moments of almost painful irritation. “You don’t understand why I’m saying this,” he continued. - After all, this is a whole life story. You say Bonaparte and his career,” he said, although Pierre did not talk about Bonaparte. - You say Bonaparte; but Bonaparte, when he worked, walked step by step towards his goal, he was free, he had nothing but his goal - and he achieved it. But tie yourself to a woman, and like a shackled convict, you lose all freedom. And everything that you have in you of hope and strength, everything only weighs you down and torments you with remorse. Drawing rooms, gossip, balls, vanity, insignificance - this is a vicious circle from which I cannot escape. I am now going to war, to the greatest war that has ever happened, but I know nothing and am no good for anything. “Je suis tres aimable et tres caustique,” continued Prince Andrey, “and Anna Pavlovna listens to me.” And this is a stupid society, without which my wife and these women cannot live... If only you could know what toutes les femmes distinguees and women in general are! My father is right. Selfishness, vanity, stupidity, insignificance in everything - these are women when they show everything as they are. If you look at them in the light, it seems that there is something, but there is nothing, nothing, nothing! Yes, don’t get married, my soul, don’t get married,” Prince Andrei finished. “It’s funny to me,” said Pierre, “that you consider yourself incapable, your life a spoiled life.” You have everything, everything is ahead. And you... He didn’t say you, but his tone already showed how highly he valued his friend and how much he expected from him in the future. “How can he say that!” thought Pierre. Pierre considered Prince Andrei to be a model of all perfections precisely because Prince Andrei united to the highest degree all those qualities that Pierre did not have and which can be most closely expressed by the concept of willpower. Pierre was always amazed at Prince Andrei's ability to calmly deal with all kinds of people, his extraordinary memory, erudition (he read everything, knew everything, had an idea about everything) and most of all his ability to work and study. If Pierre was often struck by Andrei’s lack of ability for dreamy philosophizing (to which Pierre was especially prone), then in this he saw not a disadvantage, but a strength. In the best, most friendly and simple relationships, flattery or praise is necessary, just as greasing is necessary for the wheels to keep them moving. “Je suis un homme fini,” said Prince Andrei. - What can we say about me? “Let’s talk about you,” he said, after a pause and smiling at his comforting thoughts. This smile was reflected on Pierre’s face at the same instant. - What can you say about me? - said Pierre, spreading his mouth into a carefree, cheerful smile. -What am I? Je suis un batard - And he suddenly blushed crimson. It was clear that he made a great effort to say this. - Sans nom, sans fortune... And well, really... - But he didn’t say it was right. - I’m free for now, and I’m fine. I just don’t know what to start. I wanted to seriously consult with you. Prince Andrei looked at him with kind eyes. But his glance, friendly and affectionate, still expressed the consciousness of his superiority. “You are dear to me, especially because you are the only living person among our entire world.” You feel good. Choose what you want; it does not matter. You will be good everywhere, but one thing: stop going to these Kuragins and leading this life. So it doesn’t suit you: all these carousings, and hussarism, and everything... “Que voulez-vous, mon cher,” said Pierre, shrugging his shoulders, “les femmes, mon cher, les femmes!” “I don’t understand,” Andrey answered. “Les femmes comme il faut, that’s another matter; but les femmes Kuragin, les femmes et le vin, I don’t understand! Pierre lived with Prince Vasily Kuragin and took part in the wild life of his son Anatole, the same one who was going to be married to Prince Andrei’s sister for correction. “You know what,” said Pierre, as if an unexpectedly happy thought had occurred to him, “seriously, I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.” With this life I can neither decide nor think about anything. My head hurts, I have no money. Today he called me, I won’t go. - Give me your word of honor that you won’t travel? -- Honestly!