The village where Onegin was bored. The village where Evgeniy was bored Let's go to the estate

I continue to comment on “Eugene Onegin”
WHERE I AM: First stanza of the second chapter. A stylized description of the rural area where Onegin ended up as a landowner.
TEXT:
The village where Evgeniy was bored,
There was a lovely corner;
There's a friend of innocent pleasures
I could bless the sky.
The master's house is secluded,
Protected from the winds by a mountain,
He stood over the river. In the distance
Before him they dazzled and bloomed
Golden meadows and fields,
Villages flashed by; here and there
The herds roamed the meadows,
And the canopy expanded thick
A huge, neglected garden,
Shelter of brooding dryads.

INTERESTING FROM NABOKOV:

Echoes of motifs from Pushkin’s famous poem “The Village” (where) Pushkin throws a severe accusation in the face of the depraved landowners. Later, however, Pushkin himself did not disdain the opportunity to give a beating to a serf peasant or to father a child on a courtyard girl.

Pushkin uses his own village memories of 1819... But it should be borne in mind that Onegin’s estate is located in Arcadia, and not in the Pskov or Tver province

Impenetrable vaults, dense gardens, large shade of foliage, dense greenery, shelters, refuge, dryads - the favorite clichés of French poetry of the 18th century.

BRODSKY:
Since the second chapter was completed in Pushkin’s southern exile in Odessa, these are undoubtedly impressions from Mikhailovsky’s visits in 1817 (in the summer after graduating from the Lyceum) and in 1819 (28 days after fever - typhus)

LOTMAN:
O Rus'! - The first part of the epigraph is borrowed from Horace (Satires, book 2, satire 6)
The double epigraph creates a punning contradiction between the tradition of the conventional literary image of the village and the idea of the real Russian village. ... At the same time, a typical attitude towards the literary tradition is set for all subsequent chapters: by quotation, reminiscence, or in some other way, a certain expectation is revived in the reader’s mind, which is not subsequently realized, demonstratively colliding with the extra-literary laws of reality.

The stanza reflects the features of Mikhailovsky’s landscape, familiar to P, but Onegin’s village is not a copy of any real, known area, but an artistic image.

MY INSINUATIONS:
Reading these lines, you are perplexed: why did Onegin’s uncle live and die in the village? Why didn’t Pushkin make him an envoy to Spain, an official in the Caucasus or a general in Moscow - why didn’t Evgeniy go THERE to say goodbye? THIS is how Spain and the Caucasus could be described, not to mention Moscow. Give the same “types”.
Why exactly the village?

Of course, it’s a tribute to the old, “Greco-Latin” tradition, and a demonstrative skimp on the new, “Byronic” tradition (the hero’s journey through exotic countries), of course, a convenient stage, but something else.

Another thing is that the “village” in EO belongs more to the sphere of harmony than plot. The purpose of the five village heads is to neutralize the burlesque of one, the first. This is how it was intended from the very beginning. That’s why Pushkin went wild in the first chapter, because he was so joking, because from the first lines his hero was going not anywhere, but “to the village, to the wilderness, to Saratov,” to where nothing of this St. Petersburg, enchanting thing would happen...

And with the next five chapters the poet “neutralized” everything, harmonized it - that’s why in the end the novel is not too spicy, not too bland, that’s why it’s not about a capital madman, and not about a provincial fool - but about life in general. And all thanks to this “golden ratio” - 5x1.

The village where Evgeniy was bored,
There was a lovely corner;
There's a friend of innocent pleasures
I could bless the sky.
The master's house is secluded,
Protected from the winds by a mountain,
He stood over the river. In the distance
Before him they dazzled and bloomed
Golden meadows and fields,
Villages flashed by; here and there
The herds roamed the meadows,
And the canopy expanded thick
A huge, neglected garden,
Shelter of brooding dryads.

INTERESTING FROM NABOKOV:

Pushkin uses his own village memories of 1819... But it should be borne in mind that Onegin’s estate is located in Arcadia, and not in the Pskov or Tver province

Impenetrable vaults, dense gardens, large shade of foliage, dense greenery, shelters, refuge, dryads - the favorite clichés of French poetry of the 18th century.

The stanza reflects the features of Mikhailovsky’s landscape, familiar to P, but Onegin’s village is not a copy of any real, known area, but an artistic image.

The village where Evgeniy was bored,

There was a lovely corner;

There's a friend of innocent pleasures

I could bless the sky.

A.S. Pushkin "Eugene Onegin"

Gray snow covers the lawns and spreads out in dirty puddles on the asphalt. Gray houses and drainpipes evoke melancholy. At such moments, you especially desperately want to find yourself somewhere among snow sparkling under the sun, so that clean, prickly, frosty air quietly flows into your lungs, and instead of stone facades you are surrounded by spruce trees with white caps.

Almost seven hundred kilometers separate Moscow from the estate of Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin in the Pskov region. Even in this, frankly speaking, not the coldest winter, the thermometer here often dropped below 30 degrees, and the frost turned into the crackling category - when trees in the forest begin to crack, and snow crunches loudly underfoot. A chain of hare tracks ran like a dotted line in a white field. The sun shines through the dark green spruce trees like a bright yellow pancake. The air is like breathing in liquid glass.

This is a different world, and it seems that time moves slower. I think differently - more clearly, perhaps. Or maybe the whole point is that Pushkin lived and worked here?! And then you begin to look differently at these endless snow-covered fields and copses. On centuries-old spruce and oak trees that still remember Alexander Sergeevich. Here Pushkin saw Anna Kern and dedicated brilliant lines to her: “I remember a wonderful moment...”. And from these windows you can see a huge oak tree, which “By the Lukomorye there is a green oak; A golden chain on that oak tree...”.

About a hundred works were created by the poet in Mikhailovskoye. Here he worked on the poems "Gypsies" and "Count Nulin", wrote chapters of the novel "Arap of Peter the Great" and the central chapters of "Eugene Onegin", worked on autobiographical notes and the drama "Boris Godunov", pondered "Little Tragedies" ...

Hannibal estates

Alexander Sergeevich's great-grandfather Abram Petrovich Hannibal (by the way, who bore the surname Petrov until the age of 30) received several settlements in the St. Petersburg province and the Pskov region as a gift from Empress Elizabeth Petrovna in the mid-18th century. After his death in 1781, the estates went to the children. The eldest son Ivan Abramovich, the hero of the naval battle with the Turks in 1770, inherited the Suida manor, which is 40 versts from St. Petersburg; to the second son, Pyotr Abramovich, also a retired general, whose real passion in his declining years was the preparation of strong liqueurs - the village of Petrovskoye in the Pskov region; The poet’s grandfather Osip Abramovich inherited the Mikhailovskoye estate, which is next to Petrovsky. After the death of Osip Abramovich in 1807, Mikhailovsky was owned by his daughter Nadezhda Hannibal, the poet’s mother. For almost 20 years, from 1817 to 1836, Alexander Sergeevich visited Mikhailovskoye several times. With the passing of Nadezhda Osipovna, Mikhailovsky was owned by Pushkin, and later the estate belonged to his children - Alexander, Grigory, Maria and Natalia.

In 1899, on the centenary of the poet’s birth, on the initiative of the Russian public, Mikhailovskoye was purchased from the poet’s heirs into state ownership with the aim of creating a museum. In 1911, a museum and a tiny boarding house for elderly writers were opened here.

During the Civil War, Mikhailovskoye, Trigorskoye, Petrovskoye and other estates that belonged to the descendants of the Hannibals and friends of the Pushkins perished in fire. In 1937, on the centenary of the poet’s death, the house-museum in Mikhailovskoye was restored, but World War II did not spare the estate. Immediately after the war, restoration of the estate and Svyatogorsk monastery began. In 1962, Trigorskoye, the estate of Pushkin’s friends Osipov-Wulf, was transformed, and in 1977, Petrovskoye. In 1995, Mikhailovskoye received the status of the State Memorial Historical, Literary and Natural Landscape Museum-Reserve of A.S. Pushkin.

Today the museum-reserve includes the Mikhailovskoye, Trigorskoye and Petrovskoye estates, the Svyatogorsk Holy Dormition Monastery with the grave of A.S. Pushkin and the Hannibal-Pushkin necropolis, ancient settlements, lakes, the floodplain of the Sorot River and some other objects.

Mikhailovskoe

In winter, Mikhailovsky is quiet. The apple orchard and the clearing are covered with a white shroud, where a poetry festival is held annually on June 6, the poet’s birthday. Apple trees in the snow. Curly-haired Pushkin, covered with a snow blanket, greets the guests. As many years ago, a spruce alley leads to the estate, there is also a humpbacked bridge, an ancient oak tree, on which a huge chain once hung, and a small wooden house for the “learned cat.” The lakes are covered with ice. Under the snow lies an island of solitude, where Alexander Sergeevich hid from the excessive attention of guests, whom, according to his memoirs, he did not really like.

From the estate on the river bank you can clearly see the windmill, built during the time of Semyon Geichenko, the legendary director of the museum, who dedicated 45 years of his life to him. He was born in 1903 in Peterhof in the family of a sergeant of a horse-grenadier regiment and in 1925 received a university education in St. Petersburg. In the first days of the Great Patriotic War, he was arrested for “kitchen conversations about life.” Then the war, a serious injury - Semyon Stepanovich lost his left arm. In 1945, Geichenko was appointed director of the Mikhailovskoye Museum, where his first office, as well as his home, was a dugout. Through the efforts of this man, the memorial museum-reserve became one of the most famous and beloved museums in Russia.

Excursion program

The excursion service includes visits to three estates with inspection of buildings and parks. Tourists get acquainted with the Pushkin Village Museum, the mill in Bugrovo, and the Svyatogorsk Monastery. In recent years, two more objects have become popular: the forester's house, in which Sergei Dovlatov rented a room when he worked here as a guide, and the Argus private bird nursery.

Dovlatov described the house of the local forester as follows: “Michal Ivanovich’s house made a terrible impression. A lopsided antenna was black against the background of the clouds. The roof had fallen in places, exposing uneven dark beams. The walls were carelessly covered with plywood. Cracked glass was covered with newsprint. Dirty tow stuck out from countless cracks ".

Despite such a terrible description, the owner of the house - and the prototype of Mikhail Ivanovich was called Ivan - until his last days he was terribly proud of the fact that he ended up on the pages of the story "The Reserve". Now the house has been restored and no longer really corresponds to Dovlatov’s description.

Conceived as a poultry yard, the aviary has turned into a real zoo, with more than a hundred different species of animals. In addition to birds - pheasants, chickens, geese, ostriches and other birds - there are roe deer, elk calves, sheep, raccoon, she-bear, wolf and even such a rare animal for central Russia as the puma.

In winter, in the village of Bugrovo, theatrical performances take place: Christmas, Christmas festivities and Maslenitsa. For those interested - sleigh rides. Particular attention is paid to programs for children: here they are taught to make dolls-amulets from straw, weave belts, and are shown how a real mill works, with the whole action being led by a real miller covered in flour. The whole process takes place in front of tourists, and at the exit, each spectator receives a bag of flour as a souvenir.

In Bugrovo there is another small but very nice Museum of Ancient Postal Service. A postman in a Pushkin-era costume repairs goose feathers, teaches visitors how to use them, and cancels stamps. It is interesting that for writing purposes, not any goose feather was used, but only one feather from a young goose, plucked from the five outermost feathers of the left wing in the spring. The fact is that the “writing mechanism” from the left wing fit better in the right hand. The feather was degreased, tempered in hot sand and sharpened with a special penknife. By the way, you can still write a letter to your friends from Mikhailovsky with such a pen.

Let's go to the estate

Mikhailovskoye is located seven kilometers from the urban-type settlement Pushkinskie Gory, which, in turn, is separated from Moscow by 670 kilometers, from St. Petersburg - 400, and from Pskov - a good hundred kilometers. All of the above cities are connected to Pushgory by regular bus service. You can also get from Moscow and St. Petersburg to Pskov by rail.

The estate museum is open from 10.00 to 17.00, the ticket office is open until 16.30. Monday and the last Tuesday of each month are days off. The entrance ticket costs 80 rubles, with a 50% discount for schoolchildren and pensioners.

Each estate has guest houses with rooms equipped with electric stoves. The rooms have private facilities: TV, refrigerator, telephone, toilet and shower. Since there is no store nearby, you should be careful to bring your own food.

If the prospect of cooking food in a guest house, where there is a common living room, refrigerator, kitchen with a stove and a set of necessary utensils, does not suit you, then very close, just a 30-minute walk through a fabulous winter forest, in the village of Bugrovo there is a tavern "At the Mill" . The name of the dishes in the cafe corresponds to the atmosphere: appetizers “Peasant” and “With vodka” priced from 100 rubles, cabbage soup “Lapotnye”, stewed mushrooms “Russian Soul”, trout “Poet’s Dream” - from 150 rubles.

The cost of living in guest houses starts from 1.6 thousand rubles for a double room with amenities on the floor and from 2.7 thousand rubles in the Arina R hotel complex in Bugrovo, in the same room, but with amenities and breakfast.

Hello dears.
Shall we continue with Evgeniy Onegin? You don't mind, I hope? :-))) Last time we finished here:
Let's start part 2. It's interesting :-))
So, let's start with the epigraph. As I said in the analysis of the first part, Pushikin has a lot of them in his works. Each chapter has its own. And here it’s very funny, because the epigraph of part 2 is a pun. And everyone can interpret it in their own way. Sounds like
"O rus!.."And the translation is below" Oh, Rus'!". But the point is that this is from Horace and can be translated from Latin as " Oh village!". Funny, right? :-)

Well, let's move directly to the text.

The village where Evgeniy was bored,
There was a lovely corner;
There's a friend of innocent pleasures
I could bless the sky.
The master's house is secluded,
Protected from the winds by a mountain,
He stood over the river. In the distance
Before him they dazzled and bloomed
Golden meadows and fields,
Villages flashed by; here and there
The herds roamed the meadows,
And the canopy expanded thick
Huge, neglected garden,
Shelter of brooding dryads.

The venerable castle was built
How castles should be built:
Extremely durable and calm
In the taste of smart antiquity.
There are lofty chambers everywhere,
There is damask wallpaper in the living room,
Portraits of kings on the walls,
And stoves with colorful tiles.
All this is now dilapidated,
I don’t really know why;
Yes, however, my friend
There was very little need for that,
Then he yawned
Among fashionable and ancient halls.

Well, everything seems to be clear here for now, with the exception of a few points. Although I want you to pay attention to the skill of Alexander Sergeevich. In a few lines he plunges us into a bored state, what a real master :-)

So what may be unclear here. First of all, these are dryads. I don’t know why exactly they are brooding here, but perhaps it is directly related to the village spleen. In general, this was the name given to nymphs, the patroness of trees. He believes that every tree has its own nymph, almost like a guardian angel for people. There are generally many varieties of them, but they are all united by the common name of dryads.

The furnishings of the house are clearly outdated and not at all fashionable - not what Evgeniy is used to. However, as we will see later, this does not bother him very much. Tiles are a kind of tile of that time. Ceramic tiles, which were primarily used to line the stove. They became especially popular in our country under Peter the Great, and you can see stoves with tiles in the houses of his associates - and at least in the Menshikov Palace in St. Petersburg. But if in the first half of the 18th century blue, or cobalt, tiles were fashionable, then in my uncle’s village house these tiles are colorful. That is, we are most likely dealing with enamel tiles. Although, whatever one may say, by the time of our story they had long since gone out of everyday use. A sort of retrograde. as well as damask wallpaper, that is, fabric wallpaper. And it was definitely not expensive silk or velor - linen or thick wool. In those years, paper wallpaper had just appeared, and, accordingly, it was extremely popular and expensive. However, the fashion for damask will return. Only expensive and very high quality.

He settled in that peace,
Where is the village old-timer?
For about forty years he was quarreling with the housekeeper,
I looked out the window and squashed flies.
Everything was simple: the floor was oak,
Two wardrobes, a table, a down sofa,
Not a speck of ink anywhere.
Onegin opened the cabinets;
In one I found an expense notebook,
In another there is a whole line of liqueurs,
Jugs of apple water
And the calendar for the eighth year:
An old man with a lot to do,
I didn’t look at other books.

In general, everything is Spartan.... A notebook of expenses, liqueurs, among which the famous “Erofeich” and apple water simply must have been included. By the way, an extremely pleasant and healthy drink. The recipe is simple - grate an apple, pour a liter of water over it, let it cool in the refrigerator for an hour, and then filter. Simple and tasty :-)

Alone among his possessions,
Just to pass the time,
Our Evgeniy first conceived
Establish a new order.
In his wilderness the desert sage,
He is the yoke of the ancient corvée
I replaced it with easy quitrent;
And the slave blessed fate.
But in his corner he sulked,
Seeing this as terrible harm,
His calculating neighbor;
The other smiled slyly
And everyone decided out loud,
That he is a most dangerous weirdo.

Since we remember that Eugene had a reputation and considered himself a great economist, he decided to begin his economic transformations with his own, or rather inherited, possessions. In essence, of course, nothing revolutionary, but.... still, still. Without going into theoretical jungle, the trick here most likely was that the rent, that is, the per capita rent from each dependent peasant, was quite high. As a result, in order to pay this quitrent, the peasants lived almost from hand to mouth. Evgeniy replaced this with just corvee labor, and an easy one at that. That is, by working off one’s responsibilities to the landowner by working on his land. If it’s easy, it means that the peasant worked 2-3 days a week for the master and gave him the results of his labor, and the rest for himself.

The neighbors' reaction is funny. One saw terrible harm, because he clearly did not want to give freedom and relaxation to the peasants, quite reasonably believing that in this case he would suffer losses. The second smiled slyly, realizing that if Onegin does not take care of the farm himself, or at least does not appoint a competent and honest manager, then soon he will not have enough money from the corvee.

At first everyone went to see him;
But since from the back porch
Usually served
He wants a Don stallion,
Only along the main road
Their household noises will be heard,
Offended by such an act,
Everyone ended their friendship with him.
“Our neighbor is ignorant; crazy;
He is a pharmacist; he drinks one
A glass of red wine;
He doesn't suit ladies' arms;
Everything is yes and no; won't say yes
Or no, sir.” That was the general voice.

Eugene, who until recently was in the very center of metropolitan life, is definitely bored by the company of his provincial neighbors. There’s nothing to talk to him about, and apparently it’s just the right people. Therefore, as soon as he hears them approaching, he immediately leaves the estate.
Funny opinion about Evgeniy. For some reason, his neighbors consider him ignorant, although it is unlikely that their education differs in any way from their own. Moreover, I think Madame and Musya Abbot invested an order of magnitude more knowledge and theory into Onegin. However, they further explain why he is ignorant. Firstly, he is a formazon, that is, a freethinker, and maybe even a freemason, which was extremely undesirable and even dangerous for the people of Catherine’s Epoch. He drinks glasses of wine, and not the local infusion that everyone loves. He doesn’t kiss a lady’s hand, because it’s not fashionable, and generally retrograde. He also doesn’t use verbiage in his speech, that is, doesn’t add s to some words, which means he’s extremely ill-mannered.

In reality there is a direct conflict between the metropolitan thing and the province. Just like now.

And finally, a few words must be said about the Don stallion. The Don breed is one of the most distinctive in Russia, and very common in the 19th century. Although not very beautiful, and often simply unsightly, the horse was miraculously hardy, very unpretentious, distinguished by good health and wonderful speed. so get in the saddle, and..."they won't catch up with us" (c) :-)))
To be continued...