Plan. The poem “Mtsyri” is a powerful manifestation of Lermontov’s talent

3 “What a fiery soul, what a mighty spirit, what a gigantic nature this Mtsyri has! This is our poet’s favorite ideal, this is the reflection in poetry of the shadow of his own personality. In everything that Mtsyri says, he breathes his own spirit, amazes him with his own power.” V. Belinsky.

The history of the creation of the poem Lermontov was exiled to the Caucasus. He served, as befits a Russian officer, with honor and bravery. But the violence of this service, the acute sense of lack of freedom tormented the poet. This is how the first lines of the poem appeared, the hero of which experiences the same feelings. Lermontov nurtured the idea of ​​a poem about a monk striving for freedom for ten years. In Mtsyri's poem Lermontov included lines from his early poems. Lermontov passionately protested against all types of slavery, fought for the right of people to earthly human happiness.

Exiled to the Caucasus in the spring of 1837, he traveled along the Georgian Military Road. Near the Mtskheta station, near Tiflis, there once existed a monastery. Here the poet met a decrepit old man wandering among the ruins and gravestones. It was a highlander monk. The old man told Lermontov how, as a child, he was captured by the Russians and given to be raised in a monastery. He recalled how homesick he was then, how he dreamed of returning home. But he gradually got used to his prison, got involved in the monotonous monastic life and became a monk. The story of an old man who in his youth was a novice in a monastery, or in Georgian Mtsyri, answered with Lermontov’s own thoughts, which he had been nurturing for many, many years.

7 Lermontov put his feelings and thoughts into Mtsyri’s mouth. Like Mtsyri, the exiled poet was eager to go home, like him he dreamed of freedom. At one time, on the way to exile, Lermontov made a stop in the ancient Georgian capital Mtskheta. The monk showed him the graves of Georgian kings, including George XII, under whom Georgia annexed to Russia. This impression in the poem turned into an old man - a watchman sweeping away the dust from the gravestones: Of which the inscription speaks About the glory of the past and about How, depressed by his crown, Such and such a king in such and such a year Handed over his people to Russia.

Mtsyri is a romantic hero in whom the author embodied his dreams of freedom, a rich active life, and the struggle to achieve his ideals.

Mtsyri's fate is orphanhood, the consequence of which is a feeling of homelessness, insecurity, abandonment, one's own inferiority and even doom. The motif of orphanhood is one of the most piercing motifs of Lermontov’s work, determined by the objective circumstances of his own life.

What is the character of Mtsyri, the child?

Why does the hero hate the monastery?

Mtsyri is a powerful, fiery nature. The main thing in him is a passionate and fiery desire for happiness, which is impossible for him without freedom and homeland. He is irreconcilable to life in captivity, fearless, bold, courageous. Mtsyri is poetic, youthfully tender, pure and purposeful.

Meeting with a Georgian girl

How does the hero appear in the scene of the fight with the leopard?

A school essay written by me in the 9th grade and saved by my teacher

“What a fiery soul, what a mighty spirit, what a gigantic nature this Mtsyri has! This is our poet’s favorite ideal, this is the reflection in poetry of the shadow of his own personality. In everything that Mtsyri says, he breathes his own spirit, amazes him with his own power,” wrote Belinsky.
Thirst for freedom, homeland, pride, a constant state of struggle, intoxication with the beauty of nature - all this is the soul of Mtsyri. The most beautiful feelings and aspirations that cannot be broken are bursting out of his chest.
Even as a child, Mtsyri was spiritually strong, proud, and hated slavery and captivity. “The mighty spirit of... the fathers,” endurance, and perseverance in overcoming trials manifested themselves in him even then. “Shy and wild,” the prisoner endured the disease without a single sigh, his pride did not allow him to show his suffering:

... Even a weak moan
Didn't come out of children's lips,
He signly rejected food
And he died quietly, proudly.

He died because he could not live without freedom, without a homeland. This was the essence of his life, without which it would lose meaning. He lives with the memories of that world, where there is no longer a road, which he was deprived of, making him a recluse. He dreams of returning

In that wonderful world of worries and battles,
Where rocks hide in the clouds,
Where people are as free as eagles.

We, together with Mtsyri, admire that world of freedom, will, happiness, where he strives so much, and we understand his deep suffering, the torment of a lonely captive. Fate is cruel to the boy, he is doomed to grow up in a monastery, but the young man Mtsyri does not change his convictions, he still tirelessly strives for freedom, renunciation of everything earthly is still alien to him.
Mtsyri suffocates within the monastery walls and, not reconciling himself with the life of a hermit prepared for him, flees to the world that has called him throughout his life as a captive.
Only in freedom does Mtsyri feel happy, only here are the hidden riches of his soul revealed for so long: perseverance, unbending willpower, indomitability, contempt for danger, the ability to love, physical strength inherited from his ancestors, strength of spirit that even captivity could not break.
The three days that Mtsyri lived in freedom were Mtsyri’s life. He tells them with rapture and delight to the old monk, tells them in order to relive them again, at least in his dreams, since in reality it is impossible to return there again.
He feels his kinship with the free, powerful element from the first minutes of his escape from the monastery. Mtsyri rejoices in the thunderstorm, feeling a spiritual kinship with it. He plunges with delight into the boundless beauty of nature, where the trees rustle “in a fresh crowd, like brothers in a circular dance.”
Love and the thirst for a free life completely captures him, helping him live among continuous dangers. His goal is to find his homeland, and he cannot die without reaching it. He wants to find a kindred spirit, to cling to another breast, “albeit unfamiliar, but dear”... He is alone in the world among people who do not understand him. It is impossible to live alone without suffering from loneliness, especially spiritual, which Mtsyri experiences.
In nature Mtsyri finds something that the monastery could not give him. Mtsyri is happy, he is trying to breathe into himself this whole free world at once without a trace. The hero is looking for adventure, he happily faces difficulties on his way, as they give the fighter the opportunity to know himself and test his strength.
And so he merged in a mortal duel with a leopard. Mtsyri is intoxicated with the struggle, with his own strength, while the leopard defends his territory and the right to life. But Mtsyri is also fighting with the leopard for the right to life, but real life, “full of worries and battles,” he needs this fight to believe in his strength, in his ability to fight for freedom. In this fight, Mtsyri experiences animal joy, and he himself feels like a beast, “a brother of leopards and wolves.” For a moment he even forgets his native language:

I was on fire and screaming like him;
As if I myself was born
In the family of leopards and wolves
Under the fresh forest canopy.

The joy of battle flows into your veins like a powerful stream. By killing the leopard, Mtsyri, as it were, kills his resigned and submissive monastic past.
But Mtsyri becomes completely different when he meets a Georgian woman. The harmony of the beauty of nature and the uniqueness of female beauty captivates and delights the fugitive. He bows to perfection, his sensitive heart is filled with tenderness and love, trying to remember and preserve this beauty in all, even the most elusive and subtle shades and halftones.

She slid between the stones
Laughing at your awkwardness.

The fleeting vision was beautiful and enchanting. Feelings that were still unfamiliar to him poured into Mtsyri’s soul, but he stopped himself from the uncontrollable desire to open the door of the saklya, behind which the graceful figure of a girl had just disappeared. The desire to find a homeland is stronger for Mtsyri. He can only be happy in his native land, where he was born, for which he would not exchange either paradise or eternity:

... I have one goal -
Go to your home country -
Had it in my soul and overcame it
Suffering from hunger as best I could.

The “blessed days” of freedom quickly passed, and Mtsyri was destined to find himself back in the monastery. Exhausted, he dreams of freedom, even in oblivion he dreams of it and does not resign himself to the monastic reality. Mtsyri is in the monastery, which means life is over for him. He dies because he cannot live without freedom, since the concepts of “life” and “will” are inextricably linked in his mind. He is deprived of freedom, which means life has no meaning. But even before his death, Mtsyri does not deviate from his convictions. He dies the same fighter as before. He dreams of being buried in the garden so that he can feel the proximity of the Caucasian mountain peaks. “Perhaps he will send me farewell greetings from his heights,” Mtsyri thinks about the Caucasus before his death. Mtsyri is not broken. This is a proud fighter who, until the end of his days, strove not to go with the flow of fate, but to live freely, beautifully, and worthy of a person.
In the image of Mtsyri, the poet expressed his dreams of a worthy person who knows how to stand up for himself and his beliefs, striving for a free life. Or maybe the poet was writing about himself? Maybe. After all, Lermontov’s soul was akin to a lonely sail, striving to find peace of mind in a storm, in a struggle. She always felt the pain of time and tried to change the unfair world that did not suit her. Lermontov, like Mtsyri, could not become free. Someone always stood in his way, interfered with his life, but restlessness, thirst for struggle, love for the homeland, the desire to see its people free were the main things in the life of Mtsyri and Lermontov himself.

“...What a fiery soul, what a mighty spirit, what a gigantic nature this Mtsyri has! This is our poet’s favorite ideal, this is the reflection in poetry of the shadow of his own personality. In everything that Mtsyri says, he breathes with his own spirit, amazes him with his own power...” - this is how the famous Russian critic Belinsky spoke about the poem “Mtsyri”. This work by Lermontov is considered one of the most successful in his work, and is loved by more than one generation of readers. To understand this work more deeply, let’s analyze Lermontov’s “Mtsyri”.

History of creation

The story of the creation of the poem in itself can be a plot for a romantic work, because Lermontov met his hero in the Caucasus. Traveling along the Georgian Military Road in 1837, the poet met an old monk there. He told his life story: captivity, youth in a monastery and frequent attempts to escape. During one of these attempts, the young man got lost in the mountains and almost died, after which he decided to stay in the monastery and take monastic vows. Lermontov listened to this story in fascination. After all, even at the age of 17, he dreamed of writing a poem about a young monk, and now his hero is standing in front of him!

The poem was originally called "Beri", Georgian for "monk". Then Lermontov changed this name to “Mtsyri”, thereby introducing additional meaning, because “Mtsyri” is translated both as “novice” and “stranger”.

Theme and idea of ​​the work

The theme of “Mtsyri” can be defined as a story about the escape of a young novice from the monastery. The work examines in detail the hero's rebellion against everyday life in the monastery and the subsequent death, and also reveals a number of other topics and problems. These are problems of freedom and the struggle for freedom, misunderstanding by others, love for homeland and family.

The pathos of the poem is romantic, here there is a poetic call to fight, and the feat is idealized.

The idea of ​​the poem is ambiguous. At first, critics spoke of “Mtsyri” as a revolutionary poem. Her idea in this case was to always, even in conditions of inevitable defeat, remain faithful to the ideal of freedom and not lose heart. Mtsyri becomes a kind of ideal for revolutionaries: a proud, independent young man who gave his life for his dream of freedom. In addition, Mtsyri is not just eager to be free, he wants to return to his people and, quite possibly, fight with them. “There is only one homeland” - this, later crossed out, epigraph to the manuscript “Mtsyri” fully reflects the author’s attitude to the problem of love for the homeland and the struggle for its freedom, raised in the poem.

Lermontov himself repeatedly spoke about the work “Mtsyri” as a work in which his ideas of freedom were most fully embodied. “Mtsyri” becomes his final work, incorporating other works with similar ideas: “Boyarin Orsha”, “Confession”.

Their heroes also strive to leave the monastery for freedom, but fail. Without finishing these poems, Lermontov uses lines from them in “Mtsyri”.

However, in modern criticism, when analyzing the poem “Mtsyri” by Lermontov, a rethinking of its idea occurs. It is now considered in a broader, philosophical sense. At the same time, the monastery serves as an image of the world as a prison of the human spirit, from which one cannot easily escape. And having run away, Mtsyri does not find happiness: he has nowhere to return, and the natural world has long become alien to him. The monastic world, symbolizing the world of secular society, poisoned him. “To find out whether we were born into this world for freedom or prison,” is what is important for Lermontov, who is thinking about the fate of his generation. And it is in “Mtsyri” that the answer to the reproach of “Borodino” is heard. Yes, the current generation is not heroes, not heroes, but it, like Mtsyri, was poisoned by prison. Love for nature, for a girl, a desire for battle and daring fun (the episode with the leopard) - all this is not alien to the main character. Had he grown up in different conditions, he would have been an outstanding person: “I could have been in the land of my fathers / Not one of the last daredevils.” The work conveys, on the one hand, the idea of ​​the complexity of the struggle for freedom, and on the other hand, the love of life and will is affirmed as the highest human values.

Genre of the work, composition and nature of the conflict

The work “Mtsyri” belongs to Lermontov’s most favorite genre - the poem. Unlike lyrics, the poem acts as a lyric-epic genre, thanks to which it is possible to characterize the hero through his actions and create his image in more detail. The lyricism of the work is manifested in its plot: the image of Mtsyri’s internal experiences is brought to the fore. The nature of the conflict is romantic, it consists in the internal contradiction of Mtsyri’s desire for freedom and his life spent in captivity. It is easy to understand that the hero’s way of thinking is close to the author. Accordingly, the type of narration in “Mtsyri” is subjective and lyrical, and the work can confidently be called a romantic poem. The poem also has features that are unique to it: most of it is written in the form of a confession. The poem consists of 26 chapters and has a circular composition: the action begins and ends in the monastery. The climactic moment can be called the duel with the leopard - it is at this moment that Mtsyri’s rebellious character is fully revealed.

The work contains a very small number of heroes. This is Mtsyri himself and his teacher-monk, who listened to the confession.

Artistic media

A description of the poem “Mtsyri” will be incomplete without considering the artistic means used in it. “Mtsyri” by Lermontov is one of the most figurative works and, accordingly, the volume of artistic expression used is very large. These are, first of all, epithets (gloomy walls, sweet names, wild youth, lush fields, dark rocks). Also in the poem there are a huge number of comparisons (people are free, like eagles; she, like a worm, lived in me; hugging, like two sisters; I myself, like a beast, was alien to people / and crawled and hid like a snake), metaphors (fight boiled, death will heal them forever), personifications (sleepy flowers died). All paths serve one purpose: they help create a poetic picture of the world surrounding Mtsyri and emphasize the depth of his experiences and their strength.

The poetic organization of the poem also deserves attention. It is written in 4-foot yam with an exclusively masculine paired rhyme (aabb). Because of this, the verse sounds especially clear and courageous, according to critics - like the blows of a sword. Anaphora is often used, and rhetorical questions and exclamations are no less frequent. It is they who give the poem a memorable passion and help to portray Mtsyri as an active, passionate, life-loving hero.

Conclusion

Having given a detailed description of the poem “Mtsyri”, we can confidently call this work one of Lermontov’s most significant creations, which clearly displays his talent. “Mtsyri” served as an inspiration for many paintings, as well as for composers. “Mtsyri” is a beautiful, timeless hymn to the human spirit and freedom.

Work test

Now we just have to analyze Lermontov’s poem “Mtsyri”. The captured Circassian boy was raised in a Georgian monastery; Having grown up, he wants to become or they want to make him a monk. Once there was a terrible storm, during which the Circassian disappeared. He disappeared for three days, and on the fourth he was found in the steppe, near the monastery, weak, sick, and dying he was transferred again to the monastery. Almost the entire poem consists of a confession about what happened to him during these three days. For a long time the ghost of his homeland had been beckoning him, hovering darkly in his soul like a childhood memory. He wanted to see God's world - and left.

A long time ago I thought
Take a look at the distant fields.
Find out if the earth is beautiful -
And at the hour of the night, terrible hour,
When the thunderstorm scared you,
When, crowded at the altar,
You were lying prostrate on the ground,
I ran. ABOUT! I'm like a brother
I would be glad to embrace the storm!
I watched with the eyes of a cloud,
I caught lightning with my hand ...
Tell me what's between these walls
Could you give me in return
That friendship is short, but alive
Between a stormy heart and a thunderstorm ?.. 44

Already from these words you see what a fiery soul, what a mighty spirit, what a gigantic nature this Mtsyri has! This is our poet’s favorite ideal, this is the reflection in poetry of the shadow of his own personality. In everything that Mtsyri says, he breathes his own spirit, amazes him with his own power. This piece is subjective.

God's garden was blooming all around me;
Plants rainbow outfit
Kept traces of heavenly tears,
And the curls of the vines
Weaving, showing off between the trees

Transparent green leaves;
And there are grapes full of them,
Earrings like expensive ones,
They hung magnificently, and sometimes
A timid swarm of birds flew towards them.
And again I fell to the ground,
And I began to listen again
To magical, strange voices.
They whispered in the bushes,
As if they were speaking
About the secrets of heaven and earth;
And all nature's voices
They merged here; didn't sound
In the solemn hour of praise
Only a man's proud voice.
Everything I felt then
Those thoughts - they no longer have a trace;
But I would like to tell them,
To live, at least mentally, again.
That morning there was a vault of heaven
So pure that an angel's flight
A diligent eye could follow;
He was so transparently deep
So full of smooth blue!
I am in it with my eyes and soul
Drowning while the midday heat
Didn't disperse my dreams
And I began to languish with thirst.
..............
Suddenly a voice - a light sound of footsteps ...
Instantly hiding between the bushes,
Embraced by involuntary trepidation,
I looked up fearfully
And he began to listen greedily,
And closer, closer everything sounded
Georgian woman's voice is young,
So artlessly alive
So sweetly free, as if he
Only the sounds of friendly names
I was accustomed to pronounce.
It was a simple song
But it stuck in my mind,
And for me, only darkness comes,
The invisible spirit sings it.
Holding the jug above your head,
Georgian woman on a narrow path
I went to the shore. Sometimes
She slid between the stones
Laughing at your awkwardness,
And her outfit was poor;
And she walked easily back
Curves of long veils
Throwing it back. Summer heat
Covered with golden shadow

Her face and chest; and heat
Breathed from her lips and cheeks,
And the darkness of the eyes was so deep,
So full of the secrets of love,
What are my ardent thoughts
Confused. Only I remember
The jug rings when the stream
Slowly poured into him,
And rustle ... nothing else.
When did I wake up again
And the blood drained from the heart,
She was already far away;
And she walked at least more quietly, but easily.
Slender under her burden,
Like a poplar, the king of her fields!

Mtsyri goes astray, wanting to get to his native land, the memory of which vaguely lives in his soul.

In vain in rage, sometimes,
I tore with a desperate hand
Thorn tangled with ivy:
It was all forest, eternal forest all around,
Scarier and thicker every hour;
And a million black eyes
Watched the darkness of the night
Through the branches of every bush ...
My head was spinning;
I began to climb trees;
But even at the edge of heaven
It was still the same jagged forest.
Then I fell to the ground
And sobbed in a frenzy
And gnawed the damp breast of the earth,
And tears, tears flowed
Into her with hot dew ...
But, believe me, human help
I didn't want ... I was a stranger
For them forever, like a steppe beast;
And if only for a minute scream
He cheated on me - I swear, old man,
I would tear out my weak tongue.
Do you remember in childhood
I have never known tears;
But then I cried without shame.
Who could see? Only a dark forest
Yes, a month floating among the heavens!
Illuminated by its ray,
Covered with moss and sand,
An impenetrable wall
Surrounded, in front of me
There was a clearing. Suddenly on her
A shadow flashed and two lights
Sparks flew ... and than

Some beast in one leap
He jumped out of the thicket and lay down,
While playing, lie down on the sand.
It was the desert's eternal guest -
Mighty leopard. Raw bone
He gnawed and squealed joyfully;
Then he fixed his bloody gaze,
Wagging its tail affectionately,
For a full month - and on it
The wool shone silver.
I was waiting, grabbing a horned branch,
A minute of battle; heart suddenly
Ignited with a thirst for fight
And blood ... Yes, the hand of fate
I was led in a different way ...
But now I'm sure
What could happen in the land of our fathers
Not one of the last daredevils ...
I was waiting. And here in the shadow of the night
He sensed the enemy, and the howl
Lingering, plaintive like a groan
suddenly rang out ... and he began
Angrily digging the sand with your paw,
He reared up, then lay down,
And the first mad leap
I was threatened with a terrible death ...
But I warned him.
My blow was true and quick.
My reliable bitch is like an axe,
His wide forehead cut him ...
He groaned like a man
And he capsized. But again,
Although blood poured from the wound
A thick, wide wave, -
The battle has begun, a mortal battle!
He threw himself on my chest;
But I managed to stick it in my throat
And turn there twice
My weapon ... He howled
He rushed with all his strength,
And we, intertwined like a pair of snakes,
Hugging tighter than two friends,
They fell at once, and in the darkness
The battle continued on the ground.
And I was terrible at that moment:
Like a desert leopard, angry and wild,
I was on fire, screaming like him;
As if I myself was born
In the family of leopards and wolves
Under the fresh forest canopy.
It seemed that the words of people
I forgot - and in my chest
That terrible cry was born
It's like my tongue has been around since childhood

I'm not used to a different sound ...
But my enemy began to grow weak,
Thrash around, breathe more slowly.
Squeezed me for the last time ...
The pupils of his motionless eyes
They flashed proudly - and then
Quietly closed in eternal sleep;
But with a triumphant enemy
He faced death face to face
What a fighter should do in battle !..

Wandering in the forest, hungry and dying, Mtsyri suddenly saw with horror that he had returned again to his monastery. We write out the ending of the poem:

Goodbye father ... give me your hand:
You feel mine is on fire ...
Know: this flame has been from young days
Melting away, he lived in my chest;
But now there is no food for him,
And he burned through his prison
And will return again to that
Who to all the lawful succession
Gives suffering and peace ...
............
When I start to die,
And, believe me, you won’t have to wait long -
You told me to move
To our garden, to the place where they bloomed
Two white acacia bushes ...
The grass between them is so thick,
And the fresh air is so fragrant,
And so transparently golden
A leaf playing in the sun!
They told me to put it there.
The glow of a blue day
I'll get drunk for the last time.
The Caucasus is visible from there!
Perhaps he is from his heights
He will send me farewell greetings,
Will send with a cool breeze ...
And near me before the end
The sound will be heard again, dear!
And I will begin to think that my friend,
Or brother, bending over me,
Wipe with an attentive hand
Cold sweat from the face of death,
And what he sings in a low voice
He tells me about a sweet country ...
And with this thought I will fall asleep,
And I won’t curse anyone!

From our extracts the idea of ​​the poem is quite clear; this thought resonates with youthful immaturity, and if it enabled the poet to scatter such a wealth of semi-precious stones of poetry before your eyes, then not by itself, but just like the strange content of another mediocre libretto gives a brilliant composer the opportunity to create an excellent opera. Recently, someone, arguing in a newspaper article about Lermontov’s poems, called his “Song about Tsar Ivan Vasilyevich, the daring guardsman and the young merchant Kalashnikov” a children’s work, and “Mtsyri” a mature work: a thoughtful critic, calculating on his fingers the time of the appearance of that and another poem, very wittily realized that the author was three years older when he wrote “Mtsyri”, and from this incident very thoroughly deduced the conclusion: ergo *) “Mtsyri” is more mature. 45 This is very understandable: those who do not have an aesthetic sense, those who do not speak for themselves in a poetic work, are left to guess about it on their fingers or consult metric books ...

But despite the immaturity of the idea and some tension in the content of “Mtsyri,” the details and presentation of this poem are amazing in their execution. It can be said without exaggeration that the poet took colors from the rainbow, rays from the sun, shine from lightning, roar from thunder, roar from the winds - that all of nature itself carried and gave him materials when he wrote this poem ... It seems as if the poet was so burdened with the burdensome fullness of inner feeling, life and poetic images that he was ready to take advantage of the first flashing thought just to free himself from them - and they poured out of his soul, like burning lava from a fire-breathing mountain, like a sea of ​​​​rain from a cloud that instantly enveloped the scorching horizon, like a suddenly bursting furious stream, engulfing the surrounding area over a long distance with its crushing waves ... This iambic tetrameter with only masculine endings, as in “The Prisoner of Chillon,” sounds and falls abruptly, like the blow of a sword striking its victim. Its elasticity, energy and sonorous, monotonous fall are in amazing harmony with the concentrated feeling, the indestructible strength of a powerful nature and the tragic situation of the hero of the poem. And yet, what a variety of pictures, images and feelings! here are storms of the spirit, and tenderness of the heart, and cries of despair, and quiet complaints, and proud bitterness, and meek sadness, and the darkness of the night, and the solemn grandeur of the morning, and the brilliance of midday, and the mysterious charm of the evening !.. Many positions are amazing in their fidelity: this is the place where Mtsyri describes his freezing near the monastery, when his chest was burning with the death fire, when the soothing dreams of death were already wafting over his tired head and its fantastic visions were floating. Nature paintings reveal the brush of a great master: they breathe the grandeur and luxurious splendor of the fantastic Caucasus. The Caucasus took full tribute from the muse of our poet ... Strange affair! The Caucasus seems destined to be the cradle of our poetic talents, the inspirer and nurturer of their muse, their poetic homeland! Pushkin dedicated one of his first poems to the Caucasus - “Prisoner of the Caucasus”, and one of his last poems - “Galub” is also dedicated to the Caucasus; Several of his excellent lyric poems also refer to the Caucasus. Griboyedov created his “Woe from Wit” in the Caucasus: the wild and majestic nature of this country, the vibrant life and harsh poetry of its sons inspired his offended human feeling to depict the apathetic, insignificant circle of the Famusovs, Skalozubovs, Zagoretskys, Khlestovs, Tugoukhovskys, Repetilovs, Molchalins - these caricatures of human nature ... And now a new great talent appears - and the Caucasus becomes his poetic homeland, passionately loved by him; on the inaccessible peaks of the Caucasus, crowned with eternal snow, he finds his Parnassus; in its fierce Terek, in its mountain streams, in its healing springs, he finds his Castalian spring, his Hypocrene ... What a pity that another poem by Lermontov, the action of which also takes place in the Caucasus, and which in manuscript circulates among the public, as “Woe from Wit” once circulated, was not published: we are talking about “The Demon.” The thought of this poem is deeper and incomparably more mature than the thought of “Mtsyri”, and although its execution reflects a certain immaturity, the luxury of the paintings, the wealth of poetic animation, excellent verses, lofty thoughts, the charming beauty of the images place it incomparably higher than “Mtsyri” and surpasses everything , what can be said in her praise. It is not an artistic creation in the strict sense of art;

but it reveals the full power of the poet’s talent and promises great artistic creations in the future. Speaking generally about Lermontov's poetry, we must notice one drawback in it: sometimes the clarity of the images and inaccuracy in expression. So, for example, in “Gifts of the Terek”, where angry stream

describes to Caspian the beauty of a murdered Cossack woman, very vaguely hinting both at the cause of her death and at her relationship with the Grebensky Cossack.
According to the beautiful young woman
Doesn't miss the river
Cossack Grebenskaya.
He saddled the black one,
And in the mountains, in the night battle,
On the dagger of an evil Chechen
He will lay down his head.

Here, the reader is left to conjecture with three equally possible cases: either, that the Chechen killed a Cossack woman, and the Cossack doomed himself to revenge for the death of his beloved; or that the Cossack himself killed her out of jealousy and is seeking death for himself, or that he does not yet know about the death of his beloved, and therefore does not worry about her, preparing for battle. Such uncertainty harms artistry, which consists precisely in speaking in definite, convex, relief images that fully express the thought contained in them. You can find in Lermontov’s book five or six inaccurate expressions similar to the one with which his excellent play “The Poet” ends:

Will you wake up again, mocked prophet?
Or never, to the voice of vengeance,
You cannot snatch your blade from its golden scabbard,
Covered with the rust of contempt ?..

Rust of contempt- the expression is inaccurate and too confusing for allegory. Each word in a poetic work must exhaust the entire meaning required by the thought of the entire work so that it is clear that there is no other word in the language that could replace it. Pushkin, in this regard, is the greatest example: in all the volumes of his works one can hardly find at least one inaccurate or refined expression, even the word ... But we're talking about no more than five or six spots in a book

Lermontov: everything else in her surprises with the strength and subtlety of artistic tact, the sovereign possession of a completely subjugated language, the true Pushkin precision of expression.

Taking a general look at Lermontov's poems, we see in them all the forces, all the elements that make up life and poetry. In this deep nature, in this powerful spirit, everything lives; Everything is accessible to them, everything is clear; they respond to everything. He is the omnipotent owner of the kingdom of the phenomena of life, he reproduces them like a true artist; he is a Russian poet at heart - the past and present of Russian life lives in him; he is deeply familiar with the inner world of the soul. Indestructible strength and power of spirit, humility of complaints, unctuous fragrance of prayer, fiery, stormy animation, quiet sadness, meek thoughtfulness, cries of proud suffering, groans of despair, mysterious tenderness of feeling, indomitable impulses of daring desires, chaste purity, the ills of modern society, pictures of world life , the drunken charms of life, reproaches of conscience, touching repentance, sobs of passion and quiet tears, like sound after sound, flowing in the fullness of a heart pacified by the storm of life, the rapture of love, the thrill of separation, the joy of a date, the feeling of a mother, contempt for the prose of life, an insane thirst for delight , the fullness of the spirit reveling in the luxury of being, fiery faith, the torment of spiritual emptiness, the groan of a self-loathing feeling of a frozen life, the poison of denial, the cold of doubt, the struggle of the fullness of feeling with the destructive power of reflection, the fallen spirit of heaven, a proud demon and an innocent baby, a violent bacchante and a pure the maiden is everything, everything in Lermontov’s poetry: heaven and earth, heaven and hell ... In terms of the depth of thought, the luxury of poetic images, the fascinating, irresistible power of poetic charm, the fullness of life and typical originality, the excess of power that flows like a fiery fountain, his creations resemble the creations of great poets. His career has only just begun, and how much he has already done, what an inexhaustible wealth of elements he has discovered: what should we expect from him in the future? ?.. For now we will not call him either Byron, or Goethe, or Pushkin, and we will not say that in time he will become Byron, Goethe or Pushkin: for we are convinced that neither one nor the other, nor the third will come out of him, but he will come out - Lermontov ...

We know that our praise will seem exaggerated to most of the public; but we have already doomed ourselves to the difficult role of saying sharply and definitely what at first no one believes, but of which everyone is soon convinced, forgetting the one who first spoke out to the consciousness of society and at whom it looked at with mockery and displeasure for this ... For the crowd, there is mute and silent evidence of the spirit that imprints the creations of newly emerged talent: it makes its judgment not by these creations themselves, but by what first respectable people, distinguished writers say about them, and then what they say about them All. Even while admiring the works of a young poet, the crowd looks askance when he is compared with names whose meaning they do not understand, but to which they listened, whom they are accustomed to respect in word ... For the crowd there are no beliefs of truth: they believe only in authorities, and not in their own feelings and reason - and they do well ... In order to bow before the poet, she must first listen to his name, get used to it, and forget the many insignificant names that for a moment stole her senseless surprise. Procul profani **) ...

Be that as it may, there are people in the crowd who tower above it: they will understand us. They will distinguish Lermontov from some phrase-monger who is busy rattling off sonorous words and rich rhymer, who decides to consider himself a representative of the national spirit only because he shouts about the glory of Russia (which has no need for it at all) and laughs vandalistically at the seemingly dying Europe, making the heroes of its history something similar to German students .. 46 We are confident that our judgment about Lermontov will be distinguished from those productions in “ the best writers of our time, over whose works all tastes and even all literary parties have (seemingly) been reconciled,” such writers who really show remarkable talent, but can seem the best only to a small circle of readers of that magazine, in each book of which they publish one and even two stories ... 47 We are confident that they will understand, as they should, the murmur of the old generation, which, having remained with the tastes and convictions of the flourishing time of their lives, stubbornly accepts their inability to sympathize with the new and understand it as the insignificance of everything new ...

And we already see the beginning of the true ( not a joke) the reconciliation of all tastes and all literary parties over the works of Lermontov - and the time is not far off when his name in literature will become a popular name, and the harmonic sounds of his poetry will be heard in the everyday conversation of the crowd, between their talk about everyday worries ...

Footnotes

* That's why. Ed.

** Away, uninitiated. Ed.

Belinsky about the poem “Mtsyri”:

“What a fiery soul, what a mighty spirit, what a gigantic nature this Mtsyri has! This is our poet’s favorite ideal, this is the reflection in poetry of the shadow of his own personality.”

“Despite the immaturity of the idea and some tension in the content of “Mtsyri,” the details and presentation of this poem are amazing in their execution. It can be said without exaggeration,

That the poet took flowers from the rainbow, rays from the sun, shine from lightning, roar from thunder, roar from the winds - that all nature itself carried and gave him materials when he wrote this poem.”

(2 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)

1. The creative activity of M. Yu. Lermontov belongs to a difficult period in Russian history - an era when any desire for freedom, truth was suppressed - to the so-called “timelessness”. This time has left its mark...
2. “Mtsyri” is a romantic poem by M. Yu. Lermontov. The plot of this work, its idea, conflict and composition are closely related to the image of the main character, with his aspirations and experiences. Lermontov is looking for his ideal...
3. FEATURES OF REVEALING THE HERO'S CHARACTER IN M. YU. LERMONTOV'S POEM “MTSYRI” What a fiery soul, what a mighty spirit, what a gigantic nature this Mtsyri has! This is our poet's favorite ideal...
4. MAN AND NATURE IN M. YU. LERMONTOV’S POEM “MCYRI” Life in captivity is not life. Therefore, it is no coincidence that Lermontov devoted only one section to describing the life of Mtsyri in the monastery-prison, and...
5. Three days in freedom (based on M. Yu. Lermontov’s poem “Mtsyri”) The 1839 poem “Mtsyri” is one of the main program works of M. Yu. Lermontov. The problems of the poem are connected with the central motives of its...
6. “ARE WE BORN INTO THIS WORLD FOR LIBERTY OR PRISON?” (based on the poem “Mtsyri” by M. Yu. Lermontov) Each person has his own roots: his homeland, family and friends. How should I feel...
7. Pictures of nature in M. Yu. Lermontov’s poem “Mtsyri” and their meaning The plot of M. Yu. Lermontov’s poem “Mtsyri” is simple. This is the story of Mtsyri's short life, the story of his failed attempt to escape from...
8. MTSYRI Ideological and artistic originality of the poem: The poem “Mtsyri” is a typically romantic work (the unity of man with nature - the scene of a thunderstorm and the escape from the monastery; romantic love - a meeting with a Georgian woman; struggle - a duel...
9. “Mtsyri” is a fiery poem by M. Yu. Lermontov about a Georgian boy who lost his freedom and homeland. Mtsyri spent almost his entire youth in a monastery. He was completely overcome by a great longing for his home...
10. M. Yu. Lermontov’s poem “Mtsyri” is a striking phenomenon of romantic literature. The work preserves all the necessary canons of romanticism: one hero, who embodies the abstract “favorite ideal” - a man striving for freedom, the transfer...
11. M. YU. LERMONTOV MTSYRI The poem “Mtsyri” was written in 1839. It takes the reader to the ancient monastery and its surroundings on the banks of the Aragva and Kura, where the action in the poem takes place....
12. Lermontov's creativity fell on a difficult and sad time in the history of Russia - the Nikolaev reaction, which came after the massacre of the Decembrists. The Pushkin era, which believed in the progressive reorganization of society, called for freedom,...
13. Where is Mtsyri running from and what is he striving for? At the center of M. Yu. Lermontov’s poem “Mtsyri” is the image of a young mountaineer, placed by life in unusual conditions. A sick and exhausted child, he ends up in...
14. M. Yu. Lermontov. Poem “Mtsyri” Genre – romantic poem. Time of creation His passion for the Caucasus, the desire to depict situations in which the courageous character of the hero can be revealed most fully, leads Lermontov to...
15. In 1873, Lermontov M.Yu. had to leave his hometown, as he was exiled to the Caucasus. Driving along the Georgian military road past a destroyed monastery. Among the debris and ruins of the Lermontov monastery...
16. Lermontov was in love with the Caucasus from early childhood. The majesty of the mountains, the crystal purity and at the same time dangerous power of the rivers, the bright unusual greenery and people, freedom-loving and proud, shook the imagination of the big-eyed and...
17. The plot and composition of “Mtsyri”. “Mtsyri” (1839) The hero of the poem became a prisoner of the Russian general; he was placed in a monastery, where he was “saved by friendly art.” Mtsyri is not a coward, he is brave, courageous, in him...
18. Yakov Lvovich Belinsky was born in the city of Krolevets, Sumy region in Ukraine on May 1, 1909. His father at that time worked as a zemstvo doctor and was an educated man. Almost all of my childhood...
19. Belinsky about the “Song...” About the work as a whole: “The fictional reality of the “Song...” turned out to be more reliable than any reality, undoubtedly more than any history... The content of the poem... is in itself full of poetry; if it were a historical fact...
20. “HERO OF OUR TIME” “Hero of our time” is the main idea of ​​the novel. In fact, after this the whole novel may be considered evil irony, because most of the readers will probably exclaim: “Good...
21. HERO OF OUR TIME V. G. Belinsky about the novel “Hero of Our Time” 1. About the composition “Gradual penetration into the inner world of the hero. “Bela”, containing the interest of a separate and complete story, in...
22. Belinsky V. G. About Pushkin's poetry Pushkin's lyrical works especially confirm our thoughts about his personality. The feeling underlying them is always so quiet and meek, despite it...
23. Why did V. G. Belinsky call the story “The Overcoat” “one of Gogol’s most profound creations”? Show in your reflections that the story “The Overcoat” presents not just the development of the theme of the “little man” (his poverty, humiliation),...
24. “Man has always been and will be the most curious phenomenon for man...” (V. G. Belinsky). (Based on the poem by V.V. Mayakovsky “Listen!”) Whatever the writer talks about, whatever problems he...
25. Russian literature of the 2nd half of the 19th century “Without passions and contradictions there is no life...” (V. G. Belinsky). (Based on the novel by I. S. Turgenev “Fathers and Sons”) The fact of confrontation in the novel by I. S. Turgenev...
26. POEMS OF M. LERMONTOV Poetry is an expression of life, or, better to say, life itself. Not only this: in poetry life is more life than in reality itself. The poet is the noblest vessel of the spirit, the chosen one...
27. The great Russian critic V. G. Belinsky admired A. S. Pushkin’s novel “Eugene Onegin.” And he repeatedly emphasized that the novel has not only aesthetic and artistic value, but also historical. ""Eugene...