Derzhavin Yevgeny life Zvanskaya summary. Rural estate in Russian poetry of the 18th - early 19th centuries (95)

Friendly message to “Eugene. Zvanskaya Life "is one of the masterpieces of Derzhavin's lyrics. It was written in 1807 at the Zvanka estate. By this time, the poet, having changed several government posts under Emperors Paul I and Alexander I, retired. Living in the winter in St. Petersburg, in his own house on the Fontanka, and in the summer at the Zvanka estate, Derzhavin devoted all his energies to literature. The poet's estate was located not far from the capital, on the banks of the Volkhov River, and for the literary life of the early 19th century it was something like Leo Tolstoy's Yasnaya Polyana.

The poem "Eugene. Life of Zvanskaya” is addressed to Yevgeny Bolkhovitinov, a bishop and historian who lived in a monastery not far from Derzhavin’s estate, where he often visited.

It is believed that "Eugene. Life of Zvanskaya" served as a response to Zhukovsky's romantic elegy "Evening". Derzhavin's poem is written in the same meter, in the same stanza as Zhukovsky's Evening. However, this is only an external sign of the connection between the two texts.

Romantic elegy has certain genre features. So, “Evening” is a lyrical monologue of the hero-poet, his sad thoughts about lost happiness, about the past “spring” time of human life (“On my days, spring, how quickly you disappeared // With your bliss and suffering!” ), about the loss of loved ones and friends, about discord with the outside world (“Where are you, friends? .. Or everyone on their own path, // Deprived of satellites, dragging a load of doubt, // Disappointed by the soul, // Doomed to trudge to the abyss of the grave ?”), about death, which will interrupt youth that has not had time to blossom, and about the fact that someone, having experienced the same elegiac sadness, will visit, perhaps, the grave of a young man ... The pictures of nature in the poem are melancholic and sad-sad, their colors are ghostly. Derzhavin created an essentially polemical poem, opposed not so much to the romantic style of the elegy as to the new type of spirituality declared in romanticism.

The plot of Derzhavin's poem, unfolding, is repelled from the poetic situation presented by Zhukovsky in the elegy "Evening". So, the hero of the elegy, "disappointed in his soul", reflects on the fate assigned to him by "fate". Probably, the hero of Zhukovsky, "devoid of companions, dragging a load of doubts," feels an internal rejection of earthly existence as God's creation, spiritual non-participation in "the hours of this fleeting life." Derzhavin "picks up" the theme of these lines. And if the hero of the elegy opposes his spiritual disappointment, his “burden of doubts” to “enthusiastic” songs, which are the “fruit of innocence of the heart”, then Derzhavin’s hero, an old man wise by life experience, speaks not of the “enthusiasm” of an allegedly innocent heart, but of spiritual meekness (“Rising from sleep, I raise a humble gaze to heaven: // My spirit will morning the ruler of the universe”) and inner harmony, peace of mind, which are the result of spiritual liberation from “various vanities”. And what Zhukovsky presents as a naive pastoral pastoral, in Derzhavin is the harmony of a person with himself and the world around him, relying on the affirmation of truth, moral laws established by God. (Pastoral is a work characterized by an idyllic depiction of shepherds and shepherdesses in the bosom of nature.)

Derzhavin boldly and sweepingly draws pictures of “this fleeting life”, colored with colors and illuminated by the bright sun.

The hero of Derzhavin draws a church on the path of the garden, because the beauty present in God's world testifies to God, is based on the laws established by him.

The cooing of pigeons, the hubbub of birds of various feathers, the muffled lekking of black grouse, the cry of snipe, the whistle of nightingales, the roar of krav, the clatter of woodpeckers—in all these voices Derzhavin's hero hears Russia.

In opposition to the elegiac hero, condemned to "dragging to the abyss of the grave", to the hero who thinks about his early death (the world is empty for him), Derzhavin's poem describes the hero at the meal. The table, decorated with a "flower garden" of various dishes, is God's world in miniature. While eating, the hero seems to take communion, becomes involved in this world. The meal blessed by God embodies the love of life of the hero, his acceptance of the Divine laws, which are the basis of human life.

The hero of Derzhavin is presented as a Russian landowner, a cheerful owner who does not leave his people without caring attention and care. For the development and arrangement of the economy, modern for that time achievements of technical thought were involved: “fiery steam engine”, “spinning machine”, dye house. Perhaps for the first time in verbal art, the culture and life of the landowner's estate is reflected, the image of which in Russian literature of the 19th century will traditionally be associated with the spiritual culture of the best representatives of the Russian nobility.

The Life of Zvanskaya poeticizes such ordinary rural landowner life as haymaking and hunting, fishing and tea drinking in the bosom of nature, home concerts. All this will also be picked up by Russian literature of the 19th century: amazing hunting scenes will appear in L. Tolstoy's novel "War and Peace", a magnificent description of haymaking in his own novel "Anna Karenina", in the end - and "Notes of a Hunter" by I. Turgenev , and his "Noble Nest", where the noble culture of the landowner's estate of the 19th century is so subtly and poetically depicted.

There is one more common poetic situation in Derzhavin's poem and Zhukovsky's elegy. For the hero Zhukovsky, the springtime of life “with bliss and suffering” disappeared quickly and irrevocably, only a dream remained:

Oh! soon, perhaps, with despondent Minvana

Alpin will come here at one o'clock in the evening to dream

Above the quiet young man's grave!

The hero of Derzhavin, a graying old man, in his thoughts turns to the past, and his past is not subjective in nature - it is inextricably linked with historical existence, with the fate of Russia.

Sitting in his office, Derzhavin's hero writes poetry, reads ancient poetry, as well as works on history. "All is vanity of vanities!" exclaims the old man. However, the hero, who has not found meaning, so to speak, in external, historical being, has an internal, spiritual point of support. His spirit remains serene, because "the Creator contains the universe." And since there is a God, it means that there is a higher truth. The hero lives in truth, with a pure heart. It is no coincidence that in the next stanza he is depicted surrounded by peasant children:

Yards, meanwhile, peasant swarm of children

Gather to me, not for any science,

And take a few bagels, pretzels,

So that beeches do not ripen in me.

So, the hero of Derzhavin turns to his past. The names of three Russian autocrats are heard, during the reign of which he served while in public office. Thus, personal life turns out to be inextricably linked with common, historical life. “Years, days pass, the roar of the sea and the noise of the storm, / And all the marshmallows are waving.” All this terrible, roaring whirlwind forever takes with it both "Pavlova's deeds" and "The glory of Catherine's victories." However, the glory of the true arbiters of victories, great generals, Russian martyrs, humbly fulfilling their duty of service to the Motherland, according to Derzhavin, does not fade. It is no coincidence that in the temple-like house of his hero, on the walls “in golden frames”, “faces” of “those great men” “shine”.

"Alexander's age" is also overshadowed by the end ... Historical life is basically finite, like a person's "life is insignificant." However, just as the selfless military labor of commanders perpetuates the glory of victories, poetic creativity, according to the poet, is able to “recreate” a vain life. The creation of man, who contains within himself the consciousness of God's truth, spiritualizes, humanizes the vain, soulless time. It is no coincidence that after the death of the hero there will remain “reviews from the lyre” of him, “who sang of God and Felitsa”. Note: not Catherine, but Felitsa, that is, the ideal of a person endowed with the power to manage history, to determine its course.

Derzhavin's poem "Eugene. Zvanskaya Life ”was a step towards realism. But its importance lies not so much in the affirmation of the poetry of everyday human life, but in the affirmation of a new type of spirituality, on which great Russian literature will be based.

Source (abbreviated): Sergusheva S.V. Russian literature of the 18th century. - St. Petersburg: "Litera", 2006

LIFE ZVAN

A few years before his complete resignation, in 1797, Derzhavin acquired the Zvanka estate, beautifully located on the banks of the Volkhov, one hundred and forty miles southeast of St. Petersburg. The estate was small, badly neglected, and Darya Alekseevna took a lot of trouble to put it in order. Derzhavin began to spend every summer at Zvanka, enjoying rest and peace.

Blessed is he who is less dependent on people,

Free from debts and from the hassle of clerks,

He does not seek gold or honors at court,

And alien to various vanities!..

Is it possible to compare that with golden liberty,

With solitude and silence on Zvanka?

Contentment, health, harmony with his wife,

I need peace - days left.

So the poet wrote in the poem “Eugene. Life of Zvanskaya, painting a picture of his village leisure with a sweeping brush. These verses, composed in 1807, were dedicated to a new acquaintance of Derzhavin - the learned monk and writer Eugene, at that time the Old Russian and Novgorod bishop, later the metropolitan. Before being tonsured, he bore the surname Bolkhovitinov, but in the history of Russian literature he is better known by his monastic name. Eugene worked on the "Dictionary of Russian spiritual and secular writers", a collection of biographies of Russian literary figures, the second book of this kind after the "Experience of a Historical Dictionary of Russian Writers", published by N. I. Novikov in 1772.

Having no materials for an article about Derzhavin, Yevgeny turned to him with a request to provide the necessary information about himself, and the poet compiled an autobiography for him. It was published in the magazine "Friend of Education" in 1806 and then entered the "Dictionary" of Eugene. Derzhavin visited Yevgeny, who lived near Novgorod in the Khutyn Monastery, who, in turn, came to Zvanka, and during these meetings, time fled imperceptibly in literary conversations. Derzhavin introduced Yevgeny to his plays - he became interested in dramaturgy, read to him the theoretical work "Discourse on Lyric Poetry" and carefully listened to Yevgeny's practical advice. Among them was Derzhavin's advice to compile notes for his writings.

There was a great need for such author's notes. Derzhavin's poems were distinguished by their unusual topicality, they were filled with hundreds of hints that were understandable to observant contemporaries, but for later generations they risked turning into riddles. Derzhavin also loved intricate allegories and allegories, and they needed to be explained in order to make the meaning of many poems completely clear.

He was well aware of this feature of his work and in one of his letters he explained it this way: “Being a poet by inspiration, I had to tell the truth; politician or courtier in my service at court, I was forced to hide the truth with allegory and allusions, from which it itself came out that in some of my works, to this day, many that they read do not understand at all ... "

In the summer of 1809, Derzhavin dictated explanations for his poems. They are written in several notebooks of thick blue paper by the hand of his niece Elizaveta, daughter of N.A. Lvov, and really shed light on many obscure places in Derzhavin's works. For example, the ode "To the second neighbor" begins with the stanza:

Not a carved bone Kolmogor,

Not the marble of Tivda and Ripheus,

Not Neva mirrors, porcelain,

Not Bucky's silk, nor glazing

Fragrant couples

Nobles are made famous...

This list of proper names, unexpectedly sounding to the ear, turns out to be a geographically accurate list of regions of Russia famous for various products. Kolmogory, or Kholmogory, is “a city in the Arkhangelsk province, which is famous for its bone work,” explains Derzhavin, Tivda, or Tifda, a river in the Olonets province, near which there were marble developments, Riphean - Ural, “Neva mirrors” were made on glass factory in St. Petersburg, silk fabrics were delivered from Baku, and finally “eye is the best variety of flower tea”.

In the poem "The Swan", for example, Derzhavin had in mind concrete earthly things, and not cosmic images, when he said:

The tomb will not close me,

Among the stars I will not turn into dust.

Stars are meant not heavenly, but earthly, breastplates of orders: “Among the stars or orders, I don’t rot at all, like others,” Derzhavin explains.

Sometimes, when listing mythological heroes, Derzhavin meant by them Russian nobles, whom he could not name openly. In the ode "On moderation" he wrote:

Let Jason from ancient Colchis

The golden one shaved off his fleece,

Croesus took possession of a foreign village,

Mars took the ransom - I don't care:

I am not envious of wealth

And royal sums for sacrilege.

This, it turns out, means the following. Colchis - Crimea, Jason - Potemkin, who, as Derzhavin says, showed "ministerial promptness" in acquiring this region for Russia and did not forget about his enrichment. The alien village that took possession of Croesus, as the famous rich man was called in ancient times, is the greedy father of the favorite Zubov, who took away the estate from its rightful owner. The general-in-chief Count Saltykov and Prince Dolgoruky were engaged in wine farming. Derzhavin understood them under the name of Mars, the god of war. The line "royal sums for sacrilege" refers to Potemkin, who spent tens of millions of rubles of state funds without any reports.

At the end of the poem "To Moderation" Derzhavin makes the following warning:

Look and everyone, even if through tricks

Fortune has become who is ahead,

Don't let the golden snakes down from the tower all the time,

And, looking at the sky, do not fall;

Stay in the middle

And do good to your neighbor;

For tomorrow fortresses with fate

The kings themselves are powerless to take.

These lines refer to the young favorite of Empress Catherine II, Platon Zubov, who "became a great man through love tricks." The fact that Zubov liked to amuse himself by flying kites from the towers of Tsarskoye Selo palaces was known in St. Petersburg, and therefore the hint was easily revealed to his contemporaries.

Having outlined in the "Explanations" the history of almost every one of his poems and deciphering the allegory hidden in them, Derzhavin believed that he had made his literary activity clear to readers. But his life path, official work, to which he attached such importance, also required explanation. And in 1812, Derzhavin dictated to his niece E. N. Lvova "Notes" - a detailed story about his life and service.

During the years of "Zvanskaya's life" Derzhavin was fascinated by dramaturgy. He did not like his own poems of recent years, the possibilities of lyric poetry began to seem limited. The enormous content of life did not fit into the small volume of a lyrical poem and required a different way out.

The poet saw this way out in drama, and for him it was a kind of step towards realism. Derzhavin spontaneously strove for it, went far beyond the framework of classic aesthetics, but within his poetic system he could not do more than he did. Convinced of this, he gives his strength to the drama. Derzhavin's experiments were far from perfect, according to the turn of his mind, worldview and talent, he could not write the second "Undergrowth", but on the whole they mark a major stage in the poet's work.

Derzhavin was drawn from a sheet of paper to living human speech, from a lyrical hero to many actors with diverse characters, to a theatrical performance in which various kinds of art - poetry, music, painting - united by the will of the poet, could at once have a powerful effect on viewer, to enlighten and instruct him.

Derzhavin came to his dramaturgy as a result of a long creative path, knowing victories and defeats, brilliantly mastering literary skills, completely convinced of the power of the poetic word. It seemed all the more important for him to turn this word to the most important subjects, to reveal turning historical events with its help, forcing his contemporaries to draw instructive lessons from Russia's past.

Derzhavin placed and appreciated opera especially highly.

Opera, “it seems to me,” he says, “is a list, or an abbreviation of the entire visible world, I will say more: it is the living kingdom of poetry; an example (ideal) or a shadow of that pleasure that is neither seen by the eye, nor heard by the ear, nor rises to the heart, at least to the common man ... A magical charming world in which the gaze is embraced by brilliance, hearing by harmony, mind by incomprehensibility and all this miraculousness you see art created, and, moreover, in a diminutive form, and a person will know here all his greatness and dominion over the universe.

Derzhavin wrote eight operas - "Dobrynya", "The fool is smarter than the smart", "The Miners", "The Terrible or the Conquest of Kazan", "Esther", "Batmendiy", "The Happy Hunchback" (the last two are not finished) and "Women's Friendship" ( text is not preserved). In addition, he translated from Italian the text of Metastasio's operas Titus and Themistocles.

Derzhavin's operas were not set to music and were not staged, but he continued to work hard on them, as if feeling that he was on the right track. And indeed, immediately after Derzhavin's experiments, operas and tragedies appeared on the stage, winning the attention of the viewer, in which the creative principles characteristic of Derzhavin's dramaturgy were developed, but carried out more successfully, for example, by Krylov in the opera Ilya the Bogatyr.

Derzhavin sought to replenish the national repertoire of the Russian theater and in his plays touched on the heroic pages of Russian history and folk tales. In the theatrical performance "Dobrynya", created in 1804, Derzhavin relies on the texts of epics. It depicts the struggle of the Kyiv state with the Tatars, the hero of which is the hero Dobrynya Nikitich. The text of the play is full of folk songs. In 1806, when Russia was already at war with Napoleon, Derzhavin wrote the performance "Pozharsky or the Liberation of Moscow", imbued with a feeling of ardent patriotism. Derzhavin's tragedies Eupraxia and The Dark (1808) had the same character, the plots of which were taken from Russian history.

In his dramatic works, Derzhavin tried to achieve historical truth. “I honor, however, the truth, in any case, sacred,” he wrote. - It seems to me that it can act more convincingly on the feelings of readers and viewers. And therefore, to remind history, and especially domestic, I think, is not useless. To bring vice and virtue out of her darkness to the spectacle - the first to excite horror and disgust from it, and the second to imitate her and compassion for her misfortunes - seems to be the main duty of dramatic writers. However, at the same time, in order to make the play entertaining, Derzhavin considered it possible to resort to fiction, but one that would not contradict historical fidelity.

Derzhavin's comic folk opera The Fool Is Smarter Than Smart One resurrects one of the episodes of Pugachev's uprising; it also reflected Derzhavin's personal impressions received during the years of the peasant war. According to the plot of the opera, the robber ataman Zheleznyak and the captain Chernyay attack the house of the nobleman Starokopeykin. Its inhabitants are hiding, and only the daughter of the owner Lukerya shows determination and intelligence. She manages to deceive and neutralize the chieftain, who is then released by the governor on bail. It is curious - and this was reflected in Derzhavin's negative attitude towards the provincial administration, whose morals he knew so well - that in the play the governor Hapkin and the clerk Pronyrkin look like real robbers, from whom there is no escape for the townsfolk. The opera is written lively, the characters of the characters are correctly captured, each speaks his own language.

Derzhavin greatly valued his dramatic works. Everything that he had written before now seemed to him petty and frivolous in comparison with tragedies and operas, and he stubbornly held on to this delusion. When Derzhavin was praised for his poetry, he used to say;

Well, yes, it's not bad, there is fire, but it's all nonsense; all this is so, near oneself, and has no important meaning for posterity: all this will soon be forgotten; but my tragedies, but my anthological plays will be appreciated and live on.

And, probably, he would be upset if he knew that descendants would remember Derzhavin’s poems - “Felitsa”, “Nobleman”, “To the Rulers and Judges”, “Invitation to Dinner”, and only literary historians would turn to his plays, and then only in very rare cases.

But, despite his passion for dramaturgy, Derzhavin, having retired, does not give up the pen of a lyric poet. He creates dozens of poems, often very large in volume, which capture the poetic chronicle of the era. Derzhavin is especially concerned about military events. He closely follows the successes of the Russian forces in the fight against Napoleon.

Among Derzhavin's poems of the last period of his work, a special and very prominent place is occupied by the large poem already mentioned above “Eugene. Life of Zvanskaya. This is a friendly message, an example of a new genre characteristic of sentimental and romantic poetry - works of this type Derzhavin had not written before. And at the same time, it is filled with many accurate life observations, true realistic details and convincingly shows Derzhavin's spontaneous craving for realism.

The poet describes in detail one day of his “life of Zvanskaya”, a long and slow day, with many things to do, both important and unimportant.

Glow of glass burns my temple-like house,

On the mountain, a yellow shoot shines among the roses,

Where I meet the water cannon noisy rain rays,

Brass music sounds.

They get up early in this house, and the occupations of the owner himself are simple:

Or, feeding my pigeons with wheat,

I look over the bowl of waters, how circles are twisted under the sky;

On birds of various feathers singing among the nets,

On the covering, like snow, meadows ...

On the roof, it will ring like a swallow, - and steam

Will blow from home to me Manzhur or Levant,

I go to the round table: and then the rastabar

About dreams, rumors of the city, peasant ...

After tea, the hostess accepts the gifts of rural nature, obtained by the labors of the peasants, peasant needlework is shown to the guests - “various canvases, cloth, fabrics, patterns, samples of napkins, tablecloths”, then the report of the doctor of the small Zvan hospital is listened to. The owner, meanwhile, retires for his literary works:

From there I come to the sanctuary of the Muses,

And with Flaccus, Pindar, the gods seated in a feast,

To kings, my friends, or I ascend to heaven,

Or I glorify rural life on a lyre;

Or in the mirror of time, shaking his head,

On passions, on deeds I see ancient, new centuries,

Seeing nothing but love alone

To itself, - and fights of people.

Not skimping on colors and not afraid to make everyday life the subject of poetry, Derzhavin describes the dining table:

The hour strikes noon, the slaves run to the table;

The hostess with the choir goes to the meal of the guests.

I look around the table - and I see different dishes

Flower garden set with a pattern:

Crimson ham, green cabbage soup with yolk,

Blush-yellow cake, white cheese, red crayfish,

What is pitch, amber-caviar, and with a blue feather

There's a motley pike - beautiful!

Beautiful because my eyes beckon, taste,

But not an abundance of il alien countries with seasoning:

And that everything is neat and represents Rus';

The supply is homemade, fresh, healthy.

After lunch - games, walks, boating, visiting the village forge, where weapons for warriors are forged, and just admiring nature, shown by Derzhavin with subtle art:

Or we watch how a shadow runs under a black cloud

By piles, by sheaves, yellow-green carpets,

And the sun descends to the bottom step.

To the hills and blue-dark groves.

Or, tired, we go stacks, oaks under the canopy;

On the banks of the Volkhov we make a smoky fire;

We look how the red day falls on the water,

And we drink fragrant tea under the sky.

Evening came to an end, the day's chores and amusements ended, the noise in the house subsided, Derzhavin was left alone with his thoughts:

Why does my dormant mind not enter then?

Fleeting essence of all the time of dreaming:

Years and days pass, the roar of the sea and the noise of the storm,

And all the marshmallows to win.

"Zvanka" - Derzhavin's estate.

Title page of the first part of Derzhavin's works, published in 1808.

Sorrow about the "past red day", about the glory of past victories, takes possession of the poet.

This house will collapse, the forest and the garden will dry up,

The name of Zvanka will not be remembered anywhere, -

Derzhavin notes melancholy and expresses only the hope that his name will not be forgotten thanks to the reminders of literary historians. Sad course of thought of the old poet.

Derzhavin's line

Why does my dormant mind not enter then? -

Pushkin took it as an epigraph to his poem "Autumn", he took it, of course, not by chance, but thinking about Derzhavin and comparing his life with him. But Pushkin is concerned about other thoughts. It is full of creative forces, it “blooms again” every autumn, it does not freeze in peace, but strives forward -

And the sails are inflated, the winds are full;

The mass has moved and cuts through the waves.

Pushkin characterizes each season with amazing accuracy and sharpness, especially lovingly describing autumn. Everyday details, depicted in such detail by Derzhavin in The Life of Zvanskaya, do not interest him:

Sleep flies in succession, hunger finds in succession, -

this is what Pushkin says about the "habits of being" in this poem. But on the other hand, if Derzhavin, referring to his literary work, paid him fleeting attention:

My clerk here must on my

Marany papers, the shepherd is like on sheep,

Clean out the burdock ... -

then Pushkin's creative process becomes the main theme of the poem. It is impossible not to think that Pushkin did not start from these lines of Derzhavin when he wrote about his work.

What a "clerk" here, what a burdock!

The soul is embarrassed by lyrical excitement,

It trembles and sounds, and searches, as in a dream,

To pour out, finally, a free manifestation ...

And the thoughts in my head are worried in courage,

And light rhymes run towards them,

And fingers ask for a pen, pen for paper,

A minute - and the verses will flow freely.

This difference between the two poets, the difference between genius and talent, between uninterrupted creative burning and the usual composition of poetic lines, was clear to Pushkin, and it took shape in the inspired stanzas of Autumn. The epigraph from Derzhavin and the recollection of The Life of Zvanskaya helped Pushkin lift the veil over the secrets of his creative process.

The Derzhavins spent their winters in St. Petersburg. Their house on the Fontanka was rebuilt and expanded, the garden grew, young voices rang all around: Derzhavin raised nieces and nephews - the daughters of N. A. Lvov, the sons of V. V. Kapnist, the children of his friends and relatives lived in the family for a long time, those who came to visit capital acquaintances.

In 1806, Stepan Petrovich Zhikharev, the author of the famous Notes of a Contemporary, then an eighteen-year-old youth, visited Derzhavin's house. He left an entry in his diary about his visits to Derzhavin.

Zhikharev came to St. Petersburg from Moscow, where he studied at the university, and joined the Foreign Collegium. Derzhavin was his favorite poet. The young man himself was drawn to literature, he composed the tragedy "Artaban". With this tragedy under his arm, he went to Derzhavin on the Fontanka embankment, unusually worried.

Nothing, sir, please: the general is alone in the office.

So go, dove!

Nothing, sir, if you please, go yourself, sir, straight up the stairs, and there is the door to the office, first on the left.

Zhikharev walked timidly: his legs buckled, his hands shook. The glass door, hung with green taffeta, was closed. Zhikharev stopped, not daring to open it. It is not known how long he would have stood like that if unexpected help had not appeared. A lovely young girl who was running past, noticing the embarrassed stranger, stopped and asked:

You, right, to your uncle?

And, opening the door to the office, she said:

Sign in.

An old man, about sixty-five years old, pale and gloomy, as it seemed to Zhikharev, in a squirrel coat covered with blue silk fabric and a white cap, was sitting in an armchair at a desk in the middle of the room. From behind the bosom of the sheepskin coat stuck out the head of a white dog, so immersed in drowsiness that she did not notice the arrival of the guest.

Zhikharev coughed. Derzhavin raised his head from his book, straightened his cap, and, yawning as if awake, said:

Sorry, I read so much that I didn't notice you. What do you want?

Zhikharev, confused, explained that upon his arrival in Petersburg he had made it his first duty to be at Derzhavin's with a tribute to that respect for his name in which he had been brought up from childhood; that, being briefly acquainted with his grandfather, Derzhavin, of course, will not refuse his grandson his favor, that ...

So you are the grandson of Stepan Danilovich? Derzhavin asked. - How glad I am! And why did they come here? If determined to the service, so I can ask for you.

Zhikharev again repeated that he was only looking for Derzhavin's favor, that he had no need for anything else, and that he had already decided to enter the service. Derzhavin asked the young man in detail where he studied, how he studied, and finally, as if recollecting himself, he said:

What are you standing for? Sit down. What is your book?

The tragedy of my work Artaban, which I would like to dedicate to Derzhavin if it were worth it.

That's how! Is that how you write poetry? Fine. Read something.

Zhikharev did not have to ask for this for a long time. He was known as an excellent reader. Having opened his manuscript, he read a scene that seemed to him especially successful: the courtier Artaban, wandering in the desert, trusts the elements of his grief and indignation, pours out a thirst for revenge on his enemies.

Derzhavin listened attentively.

Great, he said. - Please leave your tragedy with me: I will read it with pleasure and tell you my opinion.

Delighted by the praise, Zhikharev acquired the gift of eloquence and set about telling literary news brought from Moscow, reciting Derzhavin's poems as a keepsake - in a word, he became extremely bold, the owner liked him and received an invitation to visit him without ceremony.

A day later Zhikharev dined at Derzhavin's. Arriving at the appointed time, he found all the household in a large living room on the ground floor. Derzhavin, in the same blue sheepskin coat but wearing a wig, paced thoughtfully through the rooms, stroking the head of the little dog sitting in his bosom. He introduced Zhikharev to Darya Alekseevna and his nieces.

I read, brother, your tragedy, - said Derzhavin. - I confess, I could not tear myself away from it: well, really, fine! Everything is so loud, high, the verses are so smooth, sonorous.

Zhikharev did not expect such a pleasant response, but did not lose his head and said that he owed the virtues of tragedy to reading, that, having barely learned to babble, he already knew by heart Derzhavin's odes "God", "Nobleman", "My idol", "On the death of Prince Meshchersky" , “To Felitsa”, that these verses served him as the best guide in morality than all school instructions.

Derzhavin listened to this with evident pleasure. Young Zhikharev was a clever man and knew how to please. His tragedy, written according to the models of classic tragedies, might actually seem to Derzhavin worthy of attention. He was always benevolent towards the authors, he was happy to praise, dramaturgy at that time greatly occupied Derzhavin, and Zhikharev's enthusiastic attitude towards him probably disposed the old poet in his favor. In truth, the tragedy "Artaban" did not have even a hundredth of the merits attributed to it by Derzhavin.

Darya Alekseevna affectionately treated the guest. Derzhavin was not talkative at table, but his nieces, the daughters of N. A. Lvov, spoke incessantly, and sweetly and intelligently at that. After dinner, Derzhavin sat down in an armchair outside the drawing-room door and immediately dozed off, in accordance with his usual habit.

What kind of dog is this, - asked Zhikharev, - that sticks out from uncle's bosom, only closes his eyes and swallows bread pellets from uncle's hand?

This is a memory of a good deed, - answered Vera Lvova. - One old woman, to whom her uncle pays an allowance, begged him to take this dog, who always caressed him. Since then, the dog has not left the uncle for a minute, and if she is not in his bosom or on the sofa with him, then he barks, squeals and rushes around the house.

Zhikharev was touched to tears and recalled the poems of Derzhavin, whom he considered an inexhaustible and inexhaustible poet:

Feel the goodness

Such is the wealth of the soul,

What Croesus did not collect!

He examined the portrait of Derzhavin in a fur coat and hat, painted by the artist Tonchi, and admired its design and resemblance to the original.

After dozing in his armchair, Derzhavin rejoined the company.

“This is not a man, but the embodiment of kindness,” thought Zhikharev. - He walks around in his sheepskin coat with Bibishka in his bosom, frowning and hanging his lip, thinking and dreaming, and, apparently, not doing anything that is happening around him. But as soon as some injustice and oppression rendered to someone touches his ears, or, on the contrary, some feat of philanthropy and a good deed - immediately the cap is tilted on one side, quickens, his eyes sparkle, and the poet turns into an orator, a champion of truth.

At Derzhavin's house, Zhikharev met Alexander Semyonovich Shishkov, the author of Discourses on the Old and New Style of the Russian Language, published in 1802. Shishkov was an ardent defender of the Old Slavonic language and sharply opposed the literary style of Karamzin, his supporters and imitators, against the convergence of the Russian literary language with the norms of French speech and the borrowing of foreign words. In his striving for a church-book language culture, Shishkov went to extremes, demanding, for example, instead of “billiards” to say “sharopekh”, and instead of “galoshes” - “wet shoes”, but there were also correct thoughts in his condemnation of many phraseological innovations.

Derzhavin was friends with Shishkov, but he did not approve of his attacks on Karamzin and found them biased. As Zhikharev managed to notice, in Derzhavin's literary circle only he himself admired Karamzin and stood up for him like a mountain; all the rest were opponents of the "new style" of Karamzin.

At the beginning of 1807, during one of the meetings, Shishkov talked for a long time about the benefits for Russian literature of meetings where writers could read their works, and persuaded Derzhavin to take part in the opening of such literary readings. Derzhavin readily agreed.

Soon the first meeting took place in Shishkov's house, Krylov read his fable "Death and the Woodcutter", Zhikharev read Derzhavin's "Hymn to Meekness", several young authors spoke. Then they gathered at Derzhavin's. The next literary evening was hosted by Senator I. S. Zakharov, and then Zhikharev heard Derzhavin appraise the reading he had just finished and the scholarly disputes.

So-so, poured from empty to empty, - he said quietly to his interlocutor.

Meetings that began in 1807 continued in subsequent years. Both old writers and literary youth visited them, conversations were held on socio-political topics, and military news was discussed. Despite differences in tastes and ages, a common feature for most of the participants in the meetings was love for national literature and patriotism. Here Derzhavin and Krylov, Shishkov and Gnedich united, later a writer close to the Decembrists, a translator of Homer's Iliad.

From these meetings grew and in 1811 the literary organization "Conversation of lovers of the Russian word" was solemnly opened. The laid-back friendly tone of the first meetings was replaced by official ceremonies, and all the activities of Beseda took on a reactionary character. Conservative writers, prominent dignitaries, generals and clerics became members of the society. It was customary to appear at meetings in uniforms and with orders. The society began to publish the journal "Readings in the Conversation of Lovers of the Russian Word" and enjoyed the patronage of Alexander I.

The association of "Slavophiles", "Shishkovists", as the members of the "Conversation" were often called by the name of one of its main leaders, A. S. Shishkov, brought to life new literary communities that opposed the "Conversation". Opponents of the "Conversations" and the "old style" were grouped in the "Free Society of Lovers of Literature, Sciences and Arts". Later, in 1815, a friendly "Society of Arzamas unknown writers", or "Arzamas" arose. It was attended by V. A. Zhukovsky, K. N. Batyushkov, P. A. Vyazemsky, V. L. Pushkin, M. F. Orlov, brothers A. I. and N. I. Turgenev. The youngest member of Arzamas was the young man Pushkin.

The struggle between Arzamas and Beseda is one of the important and characteristic pages in the history of Russian literature in the first quarter of the 19th century, but Derzhavin no longer took part in it. He was a member of Beseda, chairman of one of its departments - "categories", meetings of "beseda" were sometimes held in the hall of his house, but Derzhavin remained only a spectator of the literary battles that flared up between supporters of the "old" and "new" word, especially since he appreciated Karamzin, Zhukovsky, the young Pushkin, and by no means agreed with Shishkov on everything.

Age made itself known:

But the sun! my evening beam!

Already beyond the hills of blue clouds

You descend into the dark abyss,

Your luster is dimming dear

Among the lilac misty dawns,

And my heat goes out;

Cold old age is the spirit, the lyre has a voice

takes away…

So Derzhavin wrote in 1812, and among the poetic youth he was looking for someone to whom he could hand over his “old lyre” with weakening hands

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synthesis of values, beauty, normative-rationalist poetics, solemn ode, poem, tragedy, spiritual and philosophical lyrics

Annotation:

Created in the era of the formation of a secularized culture, imbued with the principles of normative-rationalistic poetics, it, nevertheless, for the first time made the higher, religious-prayer nature of art the subject of artistic experience. That is why the Russian solemn ode of the 18th century makes such a stunning impression. is a hymn to the creative energy of the nation striving to realize the ideal of vitality and harmony in the world order.

Article text:

In search of an ideal synthesis of the defining value categories of Truth, Goodness and Beauty, Russian thought does not accidentally turn to the artistic experience of the poetry of the 18th century. Created in the era of the formation of a secularized culture, imbued with the principles of normative-rationalistic poetics, it, nevertheless, for the first time made the higher, religious-prayer nature of art the subject of artistic experience. That is why the Russian solemn ode of the 18th century makes such a stunning impression. is a hymn to the creative energy of the nation striving to realize the ideal of vitality and harmony in the world order. And the point is not even how this ambitious utopian goal could be achieved in reality - the very aspiration to it and the peculiar “will to the ideal” formed a surprisingly organic sphere of the axiology of classic art, the heir and reformer of which Derzhavin was destined to become.

Not only the high genres of classicism - a solemn ode, a poem, a tragedy, spiritual and philosophical lyrics - carried such a consistently expressed value aspect. Genres, traditionally classified as "middle" and the least developed by the classicist theory, also had their own axiology. The normative-hierarchical consciousness of the epoch only assigned each of these genre groups “its own”, quite clearly defined value scale. And if the subject of artistic experience in the genres of "high" turned out to be actually "high" values ​​- Divine greatness, the harmony of the cosmos, the strength and power of the state, the wisdom of the ruler, self-sacrifice, consciousness of aristocratic duty, the creative energy of the mind, then in the genres of "average" the structure of axiological content turned out to be different, and the joys of a person’s private life came to the fore - harmony with oneself and the world around, love, family happiness, friendship, health, the opportunity to enjoy earthly goods, and finally, the joy of creative work. Reaching for the ancient ideal of the XVIII century. found a universal source of these values ​​in the poetry of Anacreon and Horace, whose very names became almost common names for the human type that acted as an apologist for these values ​​and whose life principle was so brilliantly characterized by Derzhavin’s capacious formula: “Live and let others live.”

The recognized assessment of Derzhavin's innovation as a poet who abandoned hierarchical boundaries and embraced the whole world around with a single creative and aesthetic intention should certainly extend to the analysis of the poet's axiological system. The value "map" of his poetry is as multifaceted and all-encompassing as the very image of the world that emerges in Derzhavin's poems. And the poem "Eugene. Life of Zvanskaya" becomes one of the most convincing proofs of this, organically combining the theme of everyday values ​​- and their unchanging and eternal source, which ultimately determines the philosophical sound of the poem.

It seems that before trying to analyze Derzhavin's poem as a realization of the poet's value speculation, it is necessary to return once again to the problem of Derzhavin's artistic philosophy as a whole. One of its defining features is the specific layering of the text, which arose due to the changed genre thinking of the poet. Derzhavin not only abandoned the principle of formal purity of the genre and began to mix genre models opposed in the system of traditional classicism. An even more radical step, which, moreover, had a significant influence on the subsequent development of poetry, can be considered the overcoming of a strict genre canon, which was achieved, on the one hand, due to the dialectical interdependence of the conventionally poetic and autobiographical-concrete, which became immensely more complicated in Derzhavin's texts, on the other hand, thanks to associated with this complication of imagery, balancing in Derzhavin's artistic world between the pole of life specificity and generalized philosophical meaning. The basis for the development of artistic and philosophical thought in this case is not genre canons, not an abstract philosophical idea illustrated in a poetic text, and not a “verbal deployment” of rhetorical units - ideologemes. The basis of Derzhavin's philosophical thought is those very concrete life impressions, the discovery of which was his poetry for the Russian of the 18th century.

Analysis of the poem "Eugene. Life of Zvanskaya" it is expedient to begin with a listing of the definitions of its genre nature that have developed in science - if only in order to start from the many genre "promises" that have not been justified in the text and the reader's "expectations" generated by them, to try to penetrate into its real meaning. Several genre models are set in the poem at once: a philosophical message (epistles) (an indication of which is already present in the structure of the double title); imitation of the "Second Epode" of Horace - one of the very popular in the literature of the XVIII century. genre models, the beginning of the assimilation of which was laid already in the lyrics of A.D. Kantemir and V.K. Trediakovsky. Derzhavin's appeal to this model is not limited to the poem "Eugene. Life of Zvanskaya”, “Praise of rural life” and a number of other poems of the poet are also guided by it (and directly). Finally, some researchers see in Derzhavin's message to Metropolitan Eugene also a refraction on Russian soil of a specific offshoot of the popular in Europe of the 18th century. descriptive poem genre - the so-called. "poems about a rural estate", in its purest form, is most clearly represented in English literature.

Even a simple enumeration of genre patterns that "met" in Derzhavin's poem confirms the idea of ​​the freedom of the poet's genre thinking that has manifested itself here. The consequence of it is, first of all, that the philosophical and rhetorical premise of the opposition "city - village" embedded in the structure of all three genre models becomes Derzhavin's initial, but by no means defining, not exhausting the artistic and philosophical meaning of his text. In the same way, although not so unconditionally, Derzhavin's poem shifts from the ideological "center" characteristic of the philosophical ode of the 18th century. the motif "memento more" - death arises as a theme of poetic lamentations, gets its deployment, but, intertwined with other figurative and semantic lines of the poem, reflections on it take on a different meaning.

The main spiritual and philosophical idea of ​​Derzhavin's text is the search for and acquisition of bliss by a person.

Initially, the theme of bliss is developed in the poem on the basis of the Horatian tradition of opposing the village to the city. But already the third stanza transfers reflections into a different sphere - and Derzhavin’s text owes the birth of this motive to the appearance of specific motives, the very appearance of Zvanka as a special “island of the blessed”: “Is it possible to compare anything with golden liberty, // With solitude and silence on Zvanka? // Contentment, health, agreement with my wife, // I need peace - days are left. The concepts listed in this stanza are vital values ​​that give a person the possibility of bliss in the world of life: liberty, solitude, silence, contentment, health, peace in the family, peace of mind - something without which a person’s life cannot be considered complete. And then the poem develops, on the one hand, this worldly line, and on the other, a gradually crystallizing spiritual line.

Bliss is bestowed on a person by contemplating the diversity of the world - both nature and culture. It is this line that is most clearly developed in Derzhavin's poem, and it is here that the poet's desire to describe the world around with the maximum number of details was most clearly manifested. Derzhavin's space is full of sounds, colors, smells, every moment of it is occupied, it is densely populated - by people. Animals, birds, it is unusually warm - why, perhaps, in the minds of the poet and in the minds of the reader there is no feeling of despair when it comes to historical trials and the very test of time for a person. Such completeness, of course, is genetically related to the peculiarity of the rationalistic view of the world, which L.V. Pumpyansky called the "principle of exhaustive division" - when the image is built as a calculation of all possible signs, forms of existence of a certain phenomenon, all possible forms that fill the universe. Derzhavin differs from the exhaustive division in the traditional worldview of classicism only by the prevalence of this principle over the principle of hierarchy: by counting the signs and forms of a phenomenon, he already truly sees them all, not closing his eyes to those that are not accepted by the genre. Derzhavin's cosmos is truly all-encompassing - and in this sense, the compositional "looseness" of the poem "Eugene. Life Zvanskaya” is not at all a consequence of structural negligence or tasteless redundancy. The abundance of details, forms, plans for the deployment of paintings here becomes the realization of the principle of worldview, which is very important for Derzhavin, according to which there is nothing unimportant in life. As S.S. Averintsev wrote, “in a cozy, heavy, smelly household, the poet feels not some other, but the very beauty that he saw pouring in the brilliance of sunlight “from the blue steepness of the ether”. But only eyes that are trained to look at every object can see it.<…>grateful."

This is gratitude to the Creator - in Derzhavin's cosmos, the basis of that bliss that becomes the main all-inspiring force.

Derzhavin says "... about everything and always as if he were the first person in the world whose eyes had just opened." In the further description of the life of Zvanka, it becomes possible to interpret the everyday life not only in everyday life, but also in a spiritual and philosophical key. This is a life that is filled with love - both for the world around, and above all for people (which is Derzhavin’s condescending remark: “A mustachioed headman or a belly hoarder // Gives an account to the treasury, and bread, and things // With a smile, often roguish” ). The gentleman, it turns out, understands everything - but forgives roguery - out of philanthropy, according to Derzhavin's well-known generosity: "Live and let others live," according to a sober knowledge of human nature: "Who knows how much wisdom is not known - // But every person is a lie ... ".

Indulgence to human weaknesses is also complemented by a loving generous attitude towards the “little Sims” - the sick, peasant children, serf masters, etc. Derzhavin gives a very brief but expressive explanation for this: "So that beeches do not ripen in me ...". The very colloquial intonation, the peculiar naivety of the explanation, is built into the general context of the development of thought - this is a kind of manifestation of the "humanity", sociability of Derzhavin's life ideal.

A kind of "equality" of all human activities, among which there is a place for work, and fun, and creativity, and finally prayer, the theme of which becomes the main means of embodying a high axiological scale for the poet, also becomes a step towards comprehending bliss in Derzhavin's poetic reflections.

It permeates the text of the poem, being present both in the picture of the morning and in the description of the day, and finally, closing the entire text in revealing the poet's nighttime reflections. The morning prayer becomes in the poem the absolute beginning of that “one-day cycle”, which, with its ideal harmony, embodies the cosmic orderliness of Derzhavin’s cosmos precisely because everything in it is turned with doxology to the Creator: “Rising from sleep, I raise a modest gaze to heaven; // My spirit will morning the Ruler of the universe; // I thank that again the miracles, the beauty of the shame // Revealed to me in life, only blissful ... (p. 383).

It is curious that, despite the unconditional echoes of Derzhavin's poem with the so-called. “a poem about a rural estate” (noted, in particular, by E.P. Zykova), at the same time, it reduces one motif of labor of a person, the owner, who creates his world in the estate, which is quite important for “estate” poetry. This creative and modeling potential of the estate culture of the 18th century as a whole is often considered as an essential component of the cultural idea of ​​estate life (and estate poetry) - in the historical and political key, or in its own aesthetic aspect. The owner of the estate builds his world - it does not matter, his "state" or his "space", his "Utopia" or "Arcadia". However, Derzhavin’s man in “The Life of Zvanskaya” does not build a manor - it exists here as a kind of unconditional given, and a person enjoys life in this eternally ideal world, having received it from the Hand of the Creator, and therefore does not transform and does not change this world, but only admires them (it is no coincidence that the vast majority of verbs in the poem have the semantics of "vision" - or other ways of absorbing / absorbing: "breathing innocence, I drink air", "seek", "look", "listen", "I go", "I marvel", “I see”, “I see”, “amuse myself”, “listen”, “look”, “admire”, “stars in vain”, etc.

The world is perfectly harmonious, like a perfect work of art, which a person contemplates. This becomes a kind of theodicy in Derzhavin's poetic cosmos - even seeing only selfishness and "fights of people" in the "mirror of times", he finds consolation in the contemplation of God's world and in prayer:

All vanity of vanities! I, sighing, remember

But, casting a glance at the brilliance of the midday luminary,

Oh what a beautiful world! Why burden my spirit?

The Creator creates the universe.

May it be on earth and in His heavens

One omnipotent will in everything!

He sees the depth of my heart

And my share is built by Him (p. 385)

The only human effort in God's ideally beautiful world is the effort of prayer. And therefore, by translating poetic reflection into a different intonation register in the last 14 stanzas of the poem (“Why doesn’t my dormant mind then enter? ..”), Derzhavin builds a vector not so much of his own creative ones, but much more complex in its composition: from understanding history - to the theme of inevitable death, universal destruction, which can only be overcome by the “one truth” about the poet rising above the worldly:

Not in vain on the wheel of cheerful, gloomy days,

To the rise, to the fall of happiness,

The only truth is me in the minds of people

Through Klia you will resurrect concord.

So, in the darkness of eternity, she with her pipe

It is convenient only to show the place where the reviews

From my lyre a noisy river

Rushed through the hills, valleys, fields.

You heard them - and you, awakening with your pen

Descendants from sleep, near the north of the capital,

Whisper in the ear of a wanderer, far away like quiet thunder:

“Here the singer lived God, - Felitsy” (p. 390).

Thus, in an absolutely organic synthesis, the value systems of two defining texts for Derzhavin's axiology are combined - a friendly message to Metropolitan Eugene and the ode "God". Both the highest religious and philosophical speculation and reflections on the bliss and tranquility of earthly life converge at one point - grateful prayerful delight, the ability to which makes a person the center of the universe.

Zykova E.P. A poem about a rural estate in the Russian idyllic tradition // (Myth. Pastoral. Utopia. Literature in the system of culture. - M., 1998. - C. 58-71. See also the researcher's comments on the publication of Derzhavin's poem in the collection: Rural estate in Russian poetry of the 18th - early 19th centuries M., 2005.

G.R. Derzhavin

Evgeny.
Life Zvanskaya

Blessed is he who is less dependent on people,
Free from debts and from the hassle of clerks,
Does not seek gold or honor at court
And alien to various vanities!

Why, then, passion should go to Petropolis,
From space to tightness, from freedom to gates,
Under the burden of luxury, wealth, sirens under power
And before the nobleman magnificent eyes?

Is it possible to compare that with golden liberty,
With solitude and silence on Zvanka?
Contentment, health, harmony with his wife,
I need peace - days left.

Having risen from sleep, I raise a modest look to the sky;
My spirit will morning the ruler of the universe;
Thank you again miracles, beauties shame
Revealed to me only a blissful life.

Passing past and not finding in it,
So that the black snake gnaws at my heart,
ABOUT! if I'm happy, I left that people
And ambition escaped from the sting!

Breathing innocence, I drink air, moisture grew,
I see the crimson dawn, the rising sun,
Looking for beautiful places between lilies and roses,
In the middle of the garden, the temple is drawing with a rod.

Or, feeding my pigeons with wheat,
I look over the bowl of waters, how circles are twisted under the sky;
On birds of various feathers singing among the nets,
On coverts, like snow, meadows.

I listen to the call of the shepherd's horn near,
In the distance, the black grouse is deaf tokovanie,
Lambs in the air, nightingales whistle in the bushes,
Roaring krav, thunder joln and horses neighing.

On the roof, it will ring like a swallow, and steam
Will blow from home to me Manzhur or Levant,
I'm going to the round table: and then there's discord
About dreams, rumors of the city, peasant;

About the glorious deeds of those great men,
Whose framed faces shine on the golden walls.
To remember their deeds, glorious days,
And for the embellishment of my light,

In which in the morning or in the evening sometimes
I wonder in the "Bulletin", in newspapers or magazines
Russians of courage, like every one of them a hero,
Where is Suvorov in the generals!

In which to the lady, for the praise of the guests,
They bring different canvases, cloth, fabrics,
Patterned samples of napkins, tablecloths,
Carpets, and lace, and knitting.

Where from cattle, beekeepers and poultry houses, ponds
Now in oil, now in honeycombs I see gold under the branches,
Now purple in berries, now velvet-fluff of mushrooms,
Silver, fluttering bream.

In which, having surveyed the patients in the hospital, the doctor
Comes to inform about their harm, health,
Asking for food for them: those with watering kalach,
And those medicine, to the rescue.

Where also sometimes on sticks, on bones
Mustachioed headman or belly-bellied hoarder
They give an account to the treasury, and bread, and things,
With a smile often roguish.

And where, it happens, the artists are young
Works show them on wood, on canvas
And they receive gifts for their labors as a gift,
And an hour and half a dollar.

And where before dinner to drive away like a dream,
In enthusiasm sometimes, the games are very hot,
We play cards, eroshki, pharaoh,
On a penny in debt and without return.

From there I come to the sanctuary I muses
And with Flaccus, Pindar, the gods seated in a feast,
To kings, to my friends, or I ascend to the sky,
Or I glorify rural life on a lyre;

Or in the mirror of time, shaking his head,
On passions, on deeds I see ancient, new centuries,
Seeing nothing but love alone
To itself and fights of people.

“All is vanity of vanities! - I, sighing, remember;
But, casting a glance at the brilliance of the luminaries of noon: -
Oh what a beautiful world! Why burden my spirit?
The Creator contains the universe.

May it be on earth and in His heavens
One in all omnipotent will!
He sees the depth of my heart,
And my share is built up by Him.

Yards, meanwhile, peasant swarm of children
Coming to me for no science
And take a few bagels, pretzels,
So that beeches do not ripen in me.

My clerk here must on my
Marany papers, the shepherd is like on sheep,
Clean out the burdock - although there are no big thoughts,
The bugs in the epanechkas also shine.

The hour strikes noon, the slaves run to the table;
The hostess with the choir goes to the meal of the guests.
I look around the table - and I see different dishes
Flower garden set with a pattern.

Crimson ham, green cabbage soup with yolk,
Blush-yellow cake, white cheese, red crayfish,
What pitch, amber - caviar, and with a blue feather
There is a motley pike - beautiful!

They are beautiful because my eyes beckon, my taste;
But not by an abundance of il alien countries with seasoning,
And what neatly everything represents Rus':
The supply is homemade, fresh, healthy.

When we don and Crimean goblets of wines,
And sticky, funnel and black beer
Let's run a few hops into the ruddy forehead, -
The conversation over sweets is playful.

But silently we suddenly get up: it beats, with sparks of grief,
Russian trees sweet juice to wedding logs:
For health with thunder we drink the beloved king,
Queens, princes, princesses.

There are two sips of coffee; I'll snore five minutes;
There in chess, in balls or from a bow with arrows,
Feathered to the ceiling with a bast shoe to the sword
And amuse myself with different games.

Or from crystal waters, baths, between trees,
From the sun, from people under modest autumn,
There I listen to young men, and here the splashing of virgins,
With some spiritual admiration.

Ile in glass optics picturesque places
I watch my estates; on the scrolls hail, kingdoms,
The seas of the forest - lies the whole world's beauty
In the eyes, arts through deceit.

Or in a gloomy lantern I admire, the stars are in vain
Running in silence along the blue of the waves with aspiration:
So the suns in the air, I remember, flow, burning
Wisdom for Glory.

Or we watch how the water from the dam pours with a roar
And, moving the car, divides the tree into boards;
As through the cast-iron pairs of pillars it beats into the air,
Boiling fire, pushes and grinds.

Or curious as the paper runes of the waves
In trays through needles, wheels, like snow, pour
In fluffy curls, and darkness suddenly spindles
Mary's hand is spun.

Or, as on linen, on silk, color, variegation and gloss,
All charms, beauties are taken from the floor of the queen;
Hard steel, we look like soft, scarlet wax,
Forged in the reeds of the militia.

And rural warriors like kingdoms becoming a shield,
They run with aspiration into the ranks in knightly attire,
“For faith, for the king, we,” they say, “we will die,
Than the French have to be a subject.

Or in a boat along the river along the shore on foot, on horseback
I roll on the droshky with a string of neighbors;
Either fish with bobs, then we smash game with lead,
That hares we catch dogs by a village.

Or standing listening to the noise of green, black waves,
As the turf bumps the plow, the grass grass will fall in scythes,
Sickles of gold fields, - and, full of aromas,
The wind flutters between the nymphs in rows.

Or we watch how a shadow runs under a black cloud
By piles, by sheaves, yellow-green carpets
And the sun descends to the bottom step
To the hills and groves of blue-dark.

Or, tired, we go stacks, oaks under the canopy:
On the banks of the Volkhov we make a smoky fire;
We look how the red day falls on the water,
And we drink fragrant tea under the sky.

Funny! in the darkness of boats with nets like fishermen,
Swimming in a lazy formation, the creature of moisture is frightened by a knock;
Like the sails of the court and webbing barge haulers
Attract one spirit to the song.

Wonderful! quiet sloping shores
And mounds are rare, full of small villages,
How, striped of their sloping fields, meadows,
They stand over the current of the jets silent.

Nice! how a ray from a scythe sparkles in the distance
And the echo behind the forest in the darkness hamits the people,
Singing reapers, the regiment of reapers comes from the strip,
When we drive from a hike.

Glow of glass burns my temple-like house,
On the mountain, a yellow shoot shines among the roses,
Where I meet the water cannon noisy rain rays,
Brass music sounds.

From the vents of cast-iron thunder roars on holidays;
Under star lightning, under bright trees
A crowd of peasants, their wives drinking wine and beer,
Sings and dances under the horns.

But we miss how this fun is rural for us,
Inside the house we amuse ourselves with the entertainment of the capitals;
We command the talents of our relatives to our children
Shine: music, dance, singing.

Amurchikov, harit wattle fence or round dance,
Borrowing the game from Thalia and Terpsichore,
Flower wreaths shepherd shepherd Viet, -
And we stare at them.

There, from the harp, sonorous, gusty thunder in the soul,
Here, the quiet tone from the strings is softened, the tones are smooth
They run - and in the nature of harmony in everything
Let us feel the laws.

But there is no holiday, and on weekdays I am alone,
On a dais sitting railing pillars,
With the harp in the evening, the brow of my gray hair
Bowing down, I rush in touching dreams, -

Why does my dormant mind not enter then?
Fleeting essence of all the time of dreaming:
Years and days pass, the roar of the sea and the noise of the storm
And all the marshmallows to win.

Oh! where, I'm suddenly looking for the past red day?
Victory glory where, the rays of Catherine?
Where is Pavlov's work? - The sun is hidden - a shadow! ..
Who knows and henceforth the flight of an eagle?

View of summer red to us Alexandrov century:
It is convenient to move the strings with the heart of tender lyres;
A man blissed under him in peace,
But he is sweeping today and he is a thunderbolt.

Will they shut up? - He only knows this
Who to one end rules all spheres;
With his finger, he leads them like a system,
For the good of the general inclining measures.

He is the roots of thoughts, He sees the flight of all dreams.
And mocks the madness of people:
Darkness illuminates those, light obscures those
And current and future centuries.

The chest of the Ross approved, like a wall, he fought back
Temir new near Pultusk, Preuss-Lau;
Young leaders blossomed with victories there look
And hid the gray-haired eagle glory.

So the brilliance of the brightest stars fades from the nights.
That life is worthless? My poor lyre!
Alas! and even the dust will smell of my bones
Saturn wings from the perishable world.

This house will collapse, the forest and the garden will dry up,
The name of Zvanka will not be remembered anywhere;
But owls, owls from the hollows of a fire-green look
And does the smoke sparkle from the dugout.

Or no, Eugene! you, once mine
Witness of songs here, you will climb that terrible hill,
Which skinny bowels and vaults inside their
The leader, the sorcerer covers the gloomy coffin,

From whom, like thunder rolls over him,
From damask rusty gates and harness of copper gula
So heard underground, like a deaf roar,
Shaking in the forests, tula arrows sound.

So, are you, father! with thy holy rod
Hitting the boards, overgrown with moss, iron,
And snakes coiled around my grave in a nest
Drive away - pale envy - into the abyss;

No wonder the wheel of cheerful, gloomy days,
To the rise, to the fall of happiness,
The only truth is me in the minds of people
Through Klia you will resurrect concord.

So, in the darkness of eternity, she with her pipe
It is convenient only to show the place where the reviews
From my lyre a noisy river
Rushed through the hills, valleys, fields.

You heard them - and you, being your pen
Descendants from sleep, near the north of the capital,
Whisper aloud to the wanderer, far away like quiet thunder:
"Here God lived a singer - Felitsy."

Text: Derzhavin. Songs. pp. 360-372.

The poem began in May 1807 under the title "My Life on Zvanka". Completed in July 1807 and published in Vestnik Evropy, 1807, No. 16.
manor: Ya.K. Grotto in The Life of Derzhavin reports the following about the estate: “It was bought with money received by Daria Alekseevna (Derzhavin’s second wife. - E.Z.) as a dowry, from her mother (for 10,000 rubles. ace). This village (now a village) with poor land, partly covered with stones, lies on the left bank of the Volkhov, by water 55 versts from Novgorod, by land more than 70. In the acts of that time, Zvanka is shown as belonging to the Georgian churchyard, and having acquired it, Derzhavin became a neighbor of Arakcheev, with whom, however, his relations were always rather cold. (...) Derzhavin's new property is mentioned for the first time in his letter to Kapnist dated August 9, 1797: "Today we are going to Zvanka, which we bought." Soon after, it was decided to build a manor there, and for this, part of the peasants was transferred there from the Belarusian estate. At the same time, Derzhavin began to think about establishing various factory productions at Zvanka and preparing people for this ... ”(vol. 1. p. 752).
From 1803, when Derzhavin retired, until his death in 1816, the poet spent summers at this estate. “This is a poem,” writes Ya.K. Grotto, - down to the smallest detail is a true and accurate sketch of Derzhavin's life in the village. Many of his features are confirmed both by the legends that are still preserved there among the villagers, and by the notes that his young niece, Prask, kept on Zvanka. Nick. Lvov" (1, 980).
The two-story manor house on the high bank of the Volkhov was presumably built according to the project of N.A. Lvov. On its balcony there were several cannons, from which they fired on solemn occasions, and a telescope. From the house, a stone staircase descended to the pier, where the boat "Gabriel" and the small boat "Taika", named after Derzhavin's favorite dog, stood. Under the supervision of Darya Alekseevna, a large economy was established on the estate, including carpet and cloth factories. To supply the villagers with water, and especially for the operation of factories, a steam hoist was built under the mountain, near the river, which also supported the fountain, which was located in front of the house on the mountain ”(1, 983).
The Derzhavins did not have children, but constantly gave shelter and patronage to relatives and acquaintances, whom the poet called his "God-given children." “From relatives and friends,” writes Ya.K. Grotto, - the girls lived with the Derzhavins on Zvanka: the three nieces of the Lvovs, of whom, however, only the youngest. Praskovya Nikolaevna, remained with them after 1812. In addition, Alexandra Pavlovna Kozhevnikova was a guest at Zvanka. The brothers Lvov, Dyakov and Kapnist often came from St. Petersburg. Semyon Vas. Kapnist, who in the city partly played the role of secretary to the poet, in the countryside was the soul of the holidays, to which he sometimes brought fireworks with him. (...) Zvanka was especially lively in the month of July, on the occasion of the birth and name day of Gavrila Romanovich ”(1, 983-4). Derzhavin also died on Zvanka and was buried in the Khutyn Monastery.
Destination: the poem is dedicated to the future Metropolitan of Kiev Eugene (E.A. Bolkhovitikov, 1767-1837), who in 1804 was elevated to the rank of bishop of Starorussky, vicar of the Novgorod diocese and moved from St. Petersburg to the Khutynsky monastery on the banks of the Volkhov near Zvanka. On July 2, 1804, he wrote to his friend: “I live alternately either in Novgorod or in Khutyn. But more willingly in the latter, where luxurious nature makes me alive with its fresh beauties ”and describes his rural solitude in verse:

My garden is not of England, but of fruits in it;
They are juicier than those of Petropol, growing in captivity;
My theater is a whole garden, music is choruses of birds,
My lush yard - kind conversations of friends;
My Hermitage is in the garden, in thickened bushes;
My cabinet of curiosities is in sheaves and bins;
The whole Academy is nature before me:
It teaches better both my heart and my mind.

(Extract from letters to G.N. Gorodchaninov // Collection of articles read in the department of the Russian language and literature of the Imperial Academy of Sciences. St. Petersburg, 1868. Volume 5. Issue 1. P. 48).
The acquaintance of Bishop Eugene with the poet took place in August 1805, the reason for which was the work of the hierarch on the compilation of the "Dictionary of Russian Writers", which required materials from Derzhavin's biography. On August 22, he wrote to Count Khvostov: “... I went to see Gavrila Romanovich another time and, finding myself at home, passed the time with excellent pleasure, the whole day. I read a lot, talked a lot and got more hope from now on to use the acquaintance of our Horace; I heard with my own ears thousands of ohs, living near him, and now I only understand what it means in his writings the echo rumbles ... The venerable piit these days promised to visit me in Khutyn ... ”
Next, we give Derzhavin's own explanations for this poem (according to the edition: Derzhavin. Songs. S. 457-459).

Why, then, should passion go to Petropol for a return ... Petropol, or Petersburg. Or Petrograd, from which Zvanka is 130 versts.
... with solitude and silence on the Zvonka... - Zvanka, a village or village of the author, lying on the Volkhov River.
... lambs in the air, nightingales whistling in the bushes... - I.e. snipes, which scream like lambs, and ordinary lambs walk among the bushes.
...the roar of the krav, the thunder of the joln... - Or their echoes as they chisel the trees and make a sound.
... Will blow from home to me Manchu or Levantine ... - Manchu, i.e. the smell of tea; levant - coffee, i.e. that the first will be born in China and delivered through the Levant bargaining.
...carpets and lace and knitting. – There were small carpet and cloth factories on Zvanka.
In which, having surveyed the sick ... - There was a small hospital for the peasants there.
... in eroshki, in pharaoh ... - Eroshki, a card buffoon game, in which cards are “snorted” in the eyes, saying: “fog in your eyes, - what you want, you ask for,” - and at this time you should name any, from which side of the deck, a card; and whoever does not guess it soon, they ruffle their hair for a simple card, they give a cuff for another, and so on. Pharaoh is a comic name for a card game, derived from the word "faro".
Ile in the mirror of time ... - The mirror of time here is called history.
...they come to me not for any science... - The author had little children accustomed to come every morning to get bagels.
... the bugs in the caps also shine. - I.e. mediocre thoughts, well spoken, in a pure style, make the composition beautiful.
... and Lipets, funnel and black foam of beer ... - Lipets, honey, cooked like wine, is yellow in color, and funnel is also honey, but black, boiled with wax, drinks that are very drunk, especially the last one, so a person with all his memory and reason will be deprived of his arms and legs; beer is black, tavern is also very strong.
... sweet juice from Russian trees to wedding logs ... - Birch sap, apple and so on. they make it like champagne wine, which pulls the corks out of the bottles. The wedding log is the topmost log in the house under the jam.
... for health we drink with thunder ... - Ie. with cannon fire.
... there in chess, in balls ... - Chess, a well-known game; in balls - in skittles or billiards; a notch feathered to the ceiling, or a game of shuttlecock.
Ile in the glass of optics picture places ... - Optical arranged machine; engraved prints depicting views of different cities, marinas, and the like, which, appearing in a large form, do no small pleasure to the audience.
Or admire in a gloomy lantern... - Into a camera obscura, in which opposite natural objects are presented very vividly in a small form, and along the river, especially when there is a slight wind, streams illuminated by the sun run like stars across blue water.
... And, moving the car, he divides the wood into boards ... - Saw water mill.
... As if through cast-iron pairs of pillars... - A fiery steam engine.
... Maria's hand is spun. - Empress Maria Feodorovna ordered from England a spinning machine, on which one person can spin on more than a hundred spindles.
...All charms, beauties are taken from the fields of the queen... – I.e. a dyehouse where silk, wool, linen and paper are dyed with herbal dyes, collecting them from the queen of the fields, i.e. Flora.
... is forged into the reeds of the militia. - At that time, by order of Emperor Alexander, militia was recruited to protect the borders of the empire from the French, for which reeds and all kinds of white weapons were forged.
"... than the French to be in citizenship." - The common Russian people at that time did not tolerate the French in any way and in no way wanted to be defeated by them.
... swimming in a lazy formation, the creature of moisture is frightened by a knock ... - Fishing, called a stabbing, in which several dozen boats, gathered together, each with two people, lowering the nets into the water, quietly or lazily ride and knock with sticks on the boats , making a terrible sound, which is why the fish rush about like crazy in the river and fall into the nets.
... like the sails of a ship and barge haulers with a strap ... - On the straps, when ships are pulled with a tow line, barge haulers sometimes sing songs for a friendly step.
... and there are rare hillocks, full of small villages ... - On both sides of the Volkhov there are small hillocks inhabited by small villages, whose shadow, especially at sunset and sunrise, is visible in the streams of water, quietly flowing, as well as meadows and fields.
My temple-like house burns with a glow of glass... - When the sun hits the glass, especially at evening, they shine like a glow; the author's house was with a dome and columns, a bit like a temple.
...where the water cannon will meet with rain rays ... - In the middle of the mountain, along which there was an exit to the house, strewn with yellow sand and besieged with thorn bushes.
From the muzzles of cast-iron thunder... - From cast-iron cannons during fireworks and illuminations.
... to shine: music, dance, singing. – The author had several native girls and young people with talents who could play different instruments.
... Thalia has a game and Terpsichore ... - They sometimes represented a comedy; Thalia is the muse of comedy, and Terpsichore is the muse of songs.
...there is a quiet voice here... - A quiet voice, or a pianoforte.
The sun is hidden - a shadow! - Glorious victories and sad incidents have been hidden, and who knows what will happen to the Russians in the future, who are understood by the eagles.
... but it is sweeping today and it is a thunderbolt. - Emperor Alexander was of a meek spirit and with peaceful dispositions, but he was wound up by those around him in very unpleasant military affairs.
...To the new Temir near Pultusk, Preussh-lau... - Temir, i.e. a new conqueror or Napoleon; near Pultusk and Preussisch-Eylau it was reflected in a glorious manner.
... and hid the glory of the gray-haired eagle. - Mr. Kamensky, an honored general and an old man, lost his fame due to his illness or unknown from a breakdown, so the command was given to his subordinate General Benigsen, who led the battles in question.
Or no, Eugene! - Eugene, vicar bishop of Novgorod, a friend of the author, who visited him at Zvanka and liked to listen to the echo from cannon shots, which surprisingly echo through the Volkhov forests.
... the leader, the sorcerer's coffin is covered with a gloomy... - Near the author's house there is a mound or mound, which usually happens above the tombs. The sorcerer or leader is assumed to be buried under it, because according to the history of Novgorod it is known that the sorcerer or sorcerer, the sorcerer was one who turned into a crocodile and other various monsters and ate along Lake Ilmenya and along the Volkhov River, flowing from it, floating on it people, which is why the latter was nicknamed Volkhov.

A few years before his complete resignation, in 1797, Derzhavin acquired the Zvanka estate, beautifully located on the banks of the Volkhov, one hundred and forty miles southeast of St. Petersburg. The estate was small, badly neglected, and Darya Alekseevna took a lot of trouble to put it in order. Derzhavin began to spend every summer at Zvanka, enjoying rest and peace.

Blessed is he who is less dependent on people,

Free from debts and from the hassle of clerks,

He does not seek gold or honors at court,

And alien to various vanities!..

Is it possible to compare that with golden liberty,

With solitude and silence on Zvanka?

Contentment, health, harmony with his wife,

I need peace - days left.

So the poet wrote in the poem “Eugene. Life of Zvanskaya, painting a picture of his village leisure with a sweeping brush. These verses, composed in 1807, were dedicated to a new acquaintance of Derzhavin - the learned monk and writer Eugene, at that time the Old Russian and Novgorod bishop, later the metropolitan. Before being tonsured, he bore the surname Bolkhovitinov, but in the history of Russian literature he is better known by his monastic name. Eugene worked on the "Dictionary of Russian spiritual and secular writers", a collection of biographies of Russian literary figures, the second book of this kind after the "Experience of a Historical Dictionary of Russian Writers", published by N. I. Novikov in 1772.

Having no materials for an article about Derzhavin, Yevgeny turned to him with a request to provide the necessary information about himself, and the poet compiled an autobiography for him. It was published in the magazine "Friend of Education" in 1806 and then entered the "Dictionary" of Eugene. Derzhavin visited Yevgeny, who lived near Novgorod in the Khutyn Monastery, who, in turn, came to Zvanka, and during these meetings, time fled imperceptibly in literary conversations. Derzhavin introduced Yevgeny to his plays - he became interested in dramaturgy, read to him the theoretical work "Discourse on Lyric Poetry" and carefully listened to Yevgeny's practical advice. Among them was Derzhavin's advice to compile notes for his writings.

There was a great need for such author's notes. Derzhavin's poems were distinguished by their unusual topicality, they were filled with hundreds of hints that were understandable to observant contemporaries, but for later generations they risked turning into riddles. Derzhavin also loved intricate allegories and allegories, and they needed to be explained in order to make the meaning of many poems completely clear.

He was well aware of this feature of his work and in one of his letters he explained it this way: “Being a poet by inspiration, I had to tell the truth; politician or courtier in my service at court, I was forced to hide the truth with allegory and allusions, from which it itself came out that in some of my works, to this day, many that they read do not understand at all ... "

In the summer of 1809, Derzhavin dictated explanations for his poems. They are written in several notebooks of thick blue paper by the hand of his niece Elizaveta, daughter of N.A. Lvov, and really shed light on many obscure places in Derzhavin's works. For example, the ode "To the second neighbor" begins with the stanza:

Not a carved bone Kolmogor,

Not the marble of Tivda and Ripheus,

Not Neva mirrors, porcelain,

Not Bucky's silk, nor glazing

Fragrant couples

Nobles are made famous...

This list of proper names, unexpectedly sounding to the ear, turns out to be a geographically accurate list of regions of Russia famous for various products. Kolmogory, or Kholmogory, is “a city in the Arkhangelsk province, which is famous for its bone work,” explains Derzhavin, Tivda, or Tifda, a river in the Olonets province, near which there were marble developments, Riphean - Ural, “Neva mirrors” were made on glass factory in St. Petersburg, silk fabrics were delivered from Baku, and finally “eye is the best variety of flower tea”.

In the poem "The Swan", for example, Derzhavin had in mind concrete earthly things, and not cosmic images, when he said:

The tomb will not close me,

Among the stars I will not turn into dust.

Stars are meant not heavenly, but earthly, breastplates of orders: “Among the stars or orders, I don’t rot at all, like others,” Derzhavin explains.

Sometimes, when listing mythological heroes, Derzhavin meant by them Russian nobles, whom he could not name openly. In the ode "On moderation" he wrote:

Let Jason from ancient Colchis

The golden one shaved off his fleece,

Croesus took possession of a foreign village,

Mars took the ransom - I don't care:

I am not envious of wealth

And royal sums for sacrilege.

This, it turns out, means the following. Colchis - Crimea, Jason - Potemkin, who, as Derzhavin says, showed "ministerial promptness" in acquiring this region for Russia and did not forget about his enrichment. The alien village that took possession of Croesus, as the famous rich man was called in ancient times, is the greedy father of the favorite Zubov, who took away the estate from its rightful owner. The general-in-chief Count Saltykov and Prince Dolgoruky were engaged in wine farming. Derzhavin understood them under the name of Mars, the god of war. The line "royal sums for sacrilege" refers to Potemkin, who spent tens of millions of rubles of state funds without any reports.

At the end of the poem "To Moderation" Derzhavin makes the following warning:

Look and everyone, even if through tricks

Fortune has become who is ahead,

Don't let the golden snakes down from the tower all the time,

And, looking at the sky, do not fall;

Stay in the middle

And do good to your neighbor;

For tomorrow fortresses with fate

The kings themselves are powerless to take.

These lines refer to the young favorite of Empress Catherine II, Platon Zubov, who "became a great man through love tricks." The fact that Zubov liked to amuse himself by flying kites from the towers of Tsarskoye Selo palaces was known in St. Petersburg, and therefore the hint was easily revealed to his contemporaries.

Having outlined in the "Explanations" the history of almost every one of his poems and deciphering the allegory hidden in them, Derzhavin believed that he had made his literary activity clear to readers. But his life path, official work, to which he attached such importance, also required explanation. And in 1812, Derzhavin dictated to his niece E. N. Lvova "Notes" - a detailed story about his life and service.

During the years of "Zvanskaya's life" Derzhavin was fascinated by dramaturgy. He did not like his own poems of recent years, the possibilities of lyric poetry began to seem limited. The enormous content of life did not fit into the small volume of a lyrical poem and required a different way out.

The poet saw this way out in drama, and for him it was a kind of step towards realism. Derzhavin spontaneously strove for it, went far beyond the framework of classic aesthetics, but within his poetic system he could not do more than he did. Convinced of this, he gives his strength to the drama. Derzhavin's experiments were far from perfect, according to the turn of his mind, worldview and talent, he could not write the second "Undergrowth", but on the whole they mark a major stage in the poet's work.



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