Ryzhov last date summary. Ivan turgenev - date. Other retellings and reviews for the reader's diary

Turgenev's story "Date", a summary of which will be discussed below, is included in the cycle "Hunting Notes". Published in the journal "Contemporary" in 1850.

Exposition

How does it all start? The hunter stopped in the autumn forest to rest.

He admires the magnificent pictures of the colorful forest. At first, our hero dozed off, and when after a short time he woke up, he saw a peasant girl in the clearing. We begin to consider the story of Turgenev "Date".

Plot tie

She was sitting on a tree stump and was clearly waiting for someone. A sweet girl with ashy blond hair was neatly dressed, and her neck was decorated with yellow beads. Flowers lay on her knees, which she sorted out, and she listened attentively to the rustle in the forest. The girl's eyelashes were wet with tears. Sadness and bewilderment were visible on her meek face. Branches crackled in the distance, then footsteps were heard, and a dapper young man stepped out into the clearing.

This is how the summary of Turgenev's "Date" continues. By the look of a man, you can immediately determine that the master is. He is wearing clothes from a master's shoulder, crooked red fingers are studded with gold and silver rings with turquoise. The girl looks at him with delight and affection, ugly and narcissistic. From further conversation it turns out that they are seeing each other for the last time. Akulina, that is the name of the heroine, wants to cry, but Victor says that he cannot stand tears, and the poor thing, as best she can, is holding them back.

She tilts her head to the flowers, carefully sorts them out and tells the young man what each flower means, and gives him a bouquet of cornflowers. He casually drops it and talks about the imminent separation: his master leaves for Petersburg, and then, possibly, abroad.

Conflict

During this conversation, a different understanding of the current situation becomes clear. We present a summary of Turgenev's "Date". Akulina believed in the tender feelings of the young man, which in reality did not exist. Finally, before leaving, he did not even say a single kind word to the girl, as she asked, but only told her to obey her father. This means that she will be given in marriage against her will.

Climax

The heroes part. Akulina remains alone with her experiences. This does not exhaust the summary of Turgenev's "Appointment". The final remains open. When a hunter appears, Akulina runs away in fright, and he shows an understanding of the feelings that excite the girl. The hunter picks up a bunch of cornflowers and carefully preserves them.

Analysis of the work

Let's take a look at the heroes first. There are only three of them: the hunter, Akulina and Victor.

The author surreptitiously admires the girl who is the center of the story. First, her appearance is described with doe eyes and long eyelashes, thin, slightly tanned skin, blond hair, held together by a scarlet ribbon. Only tears roll down my cheek. At the appearance of Victor, she happily roused herself, and then she was embarrassed. She tenderly kisses Victor's hand with trepidation and addresses him respectfully. And when he finds out about the parting, he cannot contain his grief. Akulina tries to restrain herself and only begs for a good word goodbye. The bouquet that she has collected is of great importance for the girl, but she gives special attention to cornflowers, which Victor rejected casually, like herself. These blue flowers have become a symbol of outraged love.

Victor immediately makes a bad impression on the author. The young man is very ugly. His eyes are small, his forehead is narrow, and his antennae are sparse. He is full of self-admiration and self-satisfaction. With Akulina, Victor behaves ugly, yawns, showing that he is bored with the peasant woman. He endlessly turns his watch and lorgnette, which he does not know how to use. In the end, Akulina's sincere grief scares him, and he shamefully runs away, leaving the girl alone.

The hunter tells us about the date, sympathizing with the girl and despising the cynical lackey who may have ruined her life.

The problems raised by the author can be carried over to our realities. Too often, modern young girls choose completely unworthy men and make them an object of worship, and then, abandoned, suffer. This concludes our analysis of Turgenev's Date.

Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev

DATE

I was sitting in a birch grove in the fall, about half of September. From the very morning a light rain fell, replaced at times by warm sunshine; the weather was inconsistent. The sky was all covered with loose white clouds, then suddenly in places it cleared for a moment, and then from behind the parted clouds appeared azure, clear and affectionate, like a beautiful eye. I sat and looked around and listened. The leaves rustled slightly over my head; one could tell by their noise what time of year it was. It was not the cheerful, laughing thrill of spring, not the soft whispering, not the long talk of summer, not the timid and cold babbling of late autumn, but a barely audible, drowsy chatter. A weak breeze pulled a little over the tops. The interior of the grove, wet with rain, was constantly changing, depending on whether the sun was shining or was being covered by a cloud; She then lit up all over, as if suddenly everything smiled in her: the thin trunks of not too frequent birches suddenly took on a gentle gleam of white silk, the small leaves lying on the ground suddenly dazzled and burned with red gold, and the beautiful stems of tall curly ferns, already painted in their autumn color , similar to the color of overripe grapes, shone through, endlessly confusing and crossing before the eyes; then suddenly again everything around was slightly blue: the bright colors were instantly extinguished, the birches were all white, without shine, white, like freshly fallen snow, which had not yet been touched by the coldly playing ray of the winter sun; and furtively, slyly, the smallest rain began to sow and whisper through the forest. The foliage on the birches was still almost all green, although it had noticeably turned pale; only here and there stood alone, young, all red or all gold, I ought to have seen how she flashed brightly in the sun, when its rays suddenly made their way, gliding and mottling, through the dense network of thin branches that had just been washed away by the sparkling rain. Not a single bird was heard: they all took shelter and fell silent; only from time to time did the mocking voice of a titmouse rang like a steel bell. Before I stopped at this birch line, I walked with my dog ​​through a high aspen grove. I, I confess, do not like this tree - the aspen - with its lavender trunk and gray-green, metallic foliage, which it heaves as high as possible and spreads it in a trembling fan in the air; I do not like the eternal swaying of its round, unkempt leaves, awkwardly attached to long stems. She is good only on other summer evenings, when, rising separately among the low bushes, it falls point-blank to the glowing rays of the setting sun and shines and trembles, doused from roots to top with the same yellow crimson, - or when, on a clear windy day, she is all noisy it streams and babbles in the blue sky, and each leaf of it, caught up in an aspiration, seems to want to break loose, fly off and dash off into the distance. But in general, I do not like this tree, and therefore, without stopping in an aspen grove to rest, I got to a birch forest, nestled under one tree, whose branches began low above the ground and, therefore, could protect me from the rain, and, admiring the surrounding view , fell asleep in that serene and meek sleep, which is familiar to some hunters.

I can't say how long I slept, but when I opened my eyes, the whole interior of the forest was filled with the sun and in all directions, through the joyfully rustling foliage, a bright blue sky shone through and seemed to sparkle; the clouds disappeared, driven away by the blowing wind; the weather cleared, and the air felt that special, dry freshness, which, filling the heart with some kind of vigorous sensation, almost always predicts a peaceful and clear evening after a rainy day. I was about to get up and try my luck again, when suddenly my eyes rested on a motionless human image. I looked: it was a young peasant girl. She sat twenty paces away from me, her head down thoughtfully and her hands dropped to her knees; on one of them, half open, lay a thick bunch of wildflowers, and with each of her breaths quietly slipped onto a plaid skirt. A clean white shirt, buttoned at the throat and hands, lay in short, soft folds around her waist; large yellow beads in two rows descended from the neck to the chest. She was very good-looking. Thick blond hair of a beautiful ashy color parted in two carefully combed semicircles from under a narrow scarlet band pulled almost to the very forehead, white as ivory; the rest of her face is barely tanned with that golden tan that one thin skin takes on. I could not see her eyes - she did not raise them; but I clearly saw her thin, high eyebrows, her long eyelashes: they were wet, and on one of her cheeks a dry trace of a tear shone in the sun, which stopped at the very lips, which were slightly pale. Her whole head was very sweet; even a slightly thick and round nose did not spoil her. I especially liked the expression on her face: it was so simple and meek, so sad and so full of childish perplexity in front of its own sadness. She was apparently expecting someone; in the forest something crunched faintly: she immediately raised her head and looked around; in the transparent shadow her eyes quickly flashed before me, large, light and fearful, like those of a deer. For a few moments she listened, without taking her wide-open eyes from the place where a faint sound was heard, sighed, turned her head quietly, bent down even lower and began to slowly sort the flowers. Her eyelids turned red, her lips moved bitterly, and a new tear rolled from under her thick eyelashes, stopping and sparkling radiantly on her cheek. Quite a long time passed in this way; the poor girl did not move, only occasionally wiggled her hands in sadness and listened, listened to everything ... Something rustled through the forest again, - she started. The noise did not stop, it became clearer, it approached, finally decisive, agile steps were heard. She straightened up and seemed to be shy; her attentive gaze trembled with anticipation. The figure of a man quickly flashed through the thicket. She looked closely, flushed suddenly, happily and happily smiled, was about to get up and immediately dropped all over again, turned pale, embarrassed - and only then raised a trembling, almost pleading look at the man who had come when he stopped next to her.

I looked at him curiously from my ambush. I confess that he did not make a pleasant impression on me. He was, by all indications, the spoiled valet of a young, wealthy master. His clothes showed pretensions to taste and dandy negligence: he wore a short bronze coat, probably from a master's shoulder, buttoned to the top, a pink tie with purple tips, and a velvet black cap with gold lace, pulled down to his very eyebrows. The round collars of his white shirt unmercifully propped up his ears and cut his cheeks, and starched mittens covered his entire hand down to his red and crooked fingers, adorned with silver and gold rings with turquoise forget-me-nots. His face, ruddy, fresh, impudent, was one of the faces that, as far as I could see, almost always outraged men and, unfortunately, very often women like them. He apparently tried to give his coarse features a contemptuous and bored expression; incessantly screwing up his already tiny, petty-gray eyes, frowning, dropping the corners of his lips, forced yawns, and with careless, though not quite dexterous swagger, he either straightened his reddish, wily curled temples with his hand, or pinched the yellow hairs sticking out on his thick upper lip, - in a word, it broke unbearably. He began to break down as soon as he saw a young peasant woman waiting for him; slowly, with a wobbly step, he walked up to her, stood there, shrugged his shoulders, thrust both hands into the pockets of his coat and, barely honoring the poor girl with a cursory and indifferent glance, sank to the ground.

And what, - he began, continuing to look somewhere to the side, shaking his leg and yawning - how long have you been here?

The girl could not answer him immediately.

It's been a long time ago, Viktor Alexandritch, ”she said at last in a barely audible voice.

A! (He took off his cap, majestically ran his hand over the thick, tightly curled hair that began almost at the very eyebrows, and, looking around with dignity, carefully covered his precious head again.) But I had completely forgotten. Besides, you see, it's raining! (He yawned again.) Things are abyss: you cannot see for everything, but he is still scolding. We're going tomorrow ...

Tomorrow? - said the girl and fixed a frightened gaze at him.

Tomorrow ... Well, well, well, please, "he picked up hastily and with annoyance, seeing that she trembled all over and quietly bowed her head," please, Akulina, don't cry. You know I hate this. (And he wrinkled his stupid nose.) Otherwise I’ll leave now ... What nonsense - whimpering!

Well, I won't, I won't, ”Akulina said hastily, swallowing her tears with an effort. - So are you going tomorrow? she added after a short silence. - Someday God will lead you to see you again, Viktor Alexandritch?

Date

Birch Grove. Middle of September. “From the very morning there was a light rain, replaced at times by warm sunshine; the weather was inconsistent. The sky was all covered with loose white clouds, then suddenly in places it cleared for a moment, and then from behind the parted clouds appeared azure, clear and tender ... ".

The hunter fell asleep serenely, "nesting" under a tree, "whose branches began low above the ground" and could protect from the rain, and when he woke up, he saw a young peasant girl twenty paces away from him. She sat with her head down thoughtfully and both hands on her knees. She wore a plaid skirt and "a clean white shirt buttoned at the throat and tassels." A narrow scarlet bandage, pulled almost to the very forehead, “thick blond hair of a beautiful ash color” ... “Her whole head was very sweet; even a slightly thick and round nose did not spoil it. I especially liked the expression on her face: it was so simple and meek, so sad and so full of childish bewilderment before its own sadness. "

She was waiting for someone; started when something crunched in the forest, listened for a few moments, sighed. "Her eyelids turned red, her lips moved bitterly, and a new tear rolled from under her thick eyelashes, stopping and sparkling radiantly on her cheek."

She waited a long time. Something rustled again and she started. "Resolute, agile steps" were heard. Well, now he will come, her idol. Mountains of books, thousands of songs about it ... And in the 20th century the same trouble:

“Why do you love beautiful girls,

Only suffering from that love! "

“She looked closely, flushed suddenly, happily and happily smiled, was about to get up and immediately drooped all over again, turned pale, embarrassed, and only then raised a trembling, almost pleading look at the person who had come when he stopped next to her ...

He was, by all indications, the spoiled valet of a young, wealthy master. His clothes showed pretense to taste and dandy negligence. " “A short bronze-colored coat, probably from a master’s shoulder”, “pink tie”, “velvet black cap with gold lace, pulled down to the very eyebrows. The face is "fresh" and "cheeky". “He apparently tried to give his coarse features a contemptuous and bored expression”, screwed up his eyes and “broke intolerably”.

“- And what, - he asked, sitting down next to him, but indifferently looking somewhere to the side and yawning, - how long have you been here?

For a long time, Viktor Alexandritch, ”she said, finally in a barely audible voice.

Ah! .. I had completely forgotten. Besides, you see, it's raining! (He yawned again.) Things are abyss: you can't see everything, but he still scolds. We're going tomorrow ...

Tomorrow? - said the girl and fixed a frightened gaze at him.

Tomorrow ... Well, well, well, please, "he picked up hastily and with annoyance, please, Akulina, don't cry. You know I hate it ...

Well, I won't, I won't, "Akulina said hastily, swallowing her tears with an effort."

(He didn't care if they still had to see each other.)

“- See you, see you. Not next year - so after. The master, it seems, wants to enter the service in St. Petersburg, ... and maybe we will go abroad.

You will forget me, Viktor Alexandritch, ”Akulina said sadly.

No, why? I will not forget you; only you be smart, don't fool around, obey your father ... But I won't forget you - no-no. (And he calmly stretched and yawned again).

Don't forget me, Viktor Alexandritch, ”she went on in an imploring voice. - Oh, it seems, what I loved you for, everything seems to be for you ... You say I obey my father, Viktor Alexandritch ... But how can I obey my father ...

And what? (He said this while lying on his back with his hands under his head.)

Why, Viktor Alexandritch, you yourself know ...

You, Akulina, are not stupid girl, "he finally spoke up:" and therefore don’t talk nonsense ... I wish you well ... Of course, you are not stupid, not quite a peasant, so to speak; and your mother was not always a peasant either. All the same, you are without education - therefore, you must obey when you are told.

Yes, it's scary, Viktor Alexandritch.

And-and, what nonsense, my dear: in what did she find fear! What have you got, ”he added, moving towards her:“ flowers?

Flowers, - Akulina answered sadly. “It’s I picked a field rowan,” she continued, somewhat animated: “this is good for calves. And this is the series - against scrofula. Look at what a wonderful flower; I have never seen such a wonderful flower when I was born ... But this is for you, ”she added, pulling out from under a yellow rowan a small bunch of blue cornflowers tied with thin grass:“ Would you like it? Victor lazily stretched out his hand, took it, casually sniffed the flowers and began to twirl it in his fingers, looking up with thoughtful importance.

Akulina looked at him ... There was so much tender devotion, reverent obedience, love in her sad gaze. She was afraid of him, and did not dare to cry, and said goodbye to him, and admired him for the last time; and he lay, lounging like a sultan, and with magnanimous patience and condescension endured her adoration ... Akulina was so good at that moment: her whole soul, trustingly, passionately opened up before him, stretched out and clung to him, and he ... he dropped the cornflowers on grass, took a round glass in a bronze frame from the side pocket of his coat and began to squeeze it into his eye; but no matter how hard he tried to keep it with a frowning brow, a raised cheek, and even a nose, the glass all fell out and fell into his hand.

What's this? - Asked, at last, amazed Akulina.

Lornet, ”he replied with gravity.

For what?

And to see better.

Show me.

Victor grimaced, but gave her a glass.

Don't break it, look.

I probably won't break it. (She timidly raised it to her eye.) I can't see anything, ”she said innocently.

You must close your eyes, shut your eyes, ”he objected in the voice of a disgruntled mentor. (She closed her eyes, in front of which she was holding a glass). - Yes, not that, not that, stupid! Another! - Victor exclaimed and, not letting her correct her mistake, he took the lorgnette from her.

Akulina blushed, laughed a little and turned away.

Apparently not good enough for us, ”she said.

The poor thing paused and took a deep breath.

Ah, Viktor Alexandritch, how it will be for us to be without you! she said suddenly.

Victor wiped off the lorgnette and put it back in his pocket.

Yes, yes, - he finally spoke up: - at first it will be hard for you, for sure. (He patted her condescendingly on the shoulder; she quietly took his hand from her shoulder and kissed it timidly). Well, yes, yes, you are definitely a kind girl, - he continued with a smug smile: - but what to do? Judge for yourself! The master and I cannot stay here; now winter is coming, and in the village in winter - you yourself know - it's just nasty. It’s different in St. Petersburg! There are simply such miracles that you, stupid, and cannot imagine in a dream. What houses, streets, and society, education - just surprise! .. (Akulina listened to him with devouring attention, slightly opening her lips, like a child). However, - he added, turning on the ground: - why am I telling you all this? You cannot understand this. "

In the soul of the serf peasant, the "muzhik", for all his primitiveness and savagery, there was sometimes a Christian gentleness, humble simplicity. The lackey, at least a little bit in touch with the lordly luxury, privileges, amusements, but unlike the rich master, is deprived of all this; and, in addition, never studied, well, at least like his master: "something and somehow"; such a lackey was often corrupted. The dark guy, having seen the "society" and various "miracles", Petersburg or also overseas, looks down on his former "class brothers" and for the sake of his own amusement will spare no one.

But back to Akulina and the valet.

“- Why, Viktor Alexandrovich? I realized; I understood everything.
- See, what!

Akulina looked down.

You didn’t talk to me like that before, Viktor Alexandritch, ”she said without raising her eyes.

Before? .. before! See, you! .. Before! - he remarked, as if indignant.

They were both silent.

However, it's time for me to go, - said Victor and was already leaning on his elbow ...

What to expect? After all, I have already said goodbye to you.

Wait, - repeated Akulina ... Her lips twitched, her pale cheeks were faintly reddened ...

Viktor Alexandritch, 'she finally spoke up in a broken voice:' you are sinful ... you are sinful, Viktor Alexandritch ...

What is sinful? he asked, frowning ...

It's a sin, Viktor Alexandritch. If only they would say a kind word to me at parting; at least they could say a word to me, to the unfortunate orphan ...

What can I tell you?

I do not know; you know that better, Viktor Alexandritch. Here you go, and at least a word ... What did I deserve?

How strange you are! What can I do!

At least a word.

Well, I charged the same thing, ”he said in annoyance and stood up.

Don't be angry, Viktor Alexandritch, ”she added hastily, barely holding back her tears.

I am not angry, but only you are stupid ... What do you want? Can't I marry you? Can't I? Well, what do you want? What?..

I don’t want anything… I don’t want anything, ”she answered, stammering and barely daring to stretch out her trembling hands to him:“ Well, at least a goodbye word ...

And tears poured down her stream.

Well, that's right, she went to cry, - Victor said coolly, pulling his cap over his eyes from behind.

I don’t want anything, ”she continued, sobbing and covering her face with both hands:“ but what is it like for me now in the family, what is it for me? And what will become of me, what will become of me, miserable? They will give out an orphan as a disgrace ... Poor little little head of mine!

And he had at least a word, at least one ... Say, Akulina, they say I ...

Sudden, chest-tearing sobs did not let her finish her speech - she fell face down on the grass and bitterly, bitterly wept ... Her whole body was convulsively agitated ... Long restrained grief finally gushed out in a stream. Victor stood over her, stood, shrugged his shoulders, turned and walked away with long strides.

A few moments passed ... She became quiet, raised her head, jumped up, looked around and threw up her hands; she wanted to run after him, but her legs gave way - she fell to her knees "...

I stood, picked up a bunch of cornflowers and went out of the grove into the field. "

Deprived of everything. Except for youth, sweet untouched charm. And she sacrificed this to a random rogue. And he, too, in essence, is deprived of everything, and is also morally crippled. A parrot gazing trustingly at "sociality", "education" and so on.

And for her, he is not only the first love, but, perhaps, the personification of unknown, distant "miracles", "which you, stupid and in a dream, cannot imagine"; he is from a dream, beautiful and inaccessible.

It's not just about unrequited love, it's also about social oppression.

“It was no more than half an hour until evening, and the dawn was barely kindling. A gusty wind rushed rapidly towards me through the yellow, dried stubble; hurrying up in front of him, small, warped leaves rushed past, across the road, along the edge of the forest; ... through the sad, though fresh smile of fading nature, it seemed, a dull fear of the near winter crept in. "

Birch Grove. Middle of September. “From the very morning there was a light rain, replaced at times by warm sunshine; the weather was inconsistent. The sky was all covered with loose white clouds, then suddenly in places it cleared for a moment, and then from behind the parted clouds appeared azure, clear and tender ... ".

The hunter fell asleep serenely, "nesting" under a tree, "whose branches began low above the ground" and could protect from the rain, and when he woke up, he saw a young peasant girl twenty paces away from him. She sat with her head down thoughtfully and both hands on her knees. She wore a plaid skirt and "a clean white shirt buttoned at the throat and tassels." A narrow scarlet bandage, pulled almost to the very forehead, “thick blond hair of a beautiful ash color” ... “Her whole head was very sweet; even a slightly thick and round nose did not spoil it. I especially liked the expression on her face: it was so simple and meek, so sad and so full of childish bewilderment before its own sadness. "

She was waiting for someone; started when something crunched in the forest, listened for a few moments, sighed. "Her eyelids turned red, her lips moved bitterly, and a new tear rolled from under her thick eyelashes, stopping and sparkling radiantly on her cheek."

She waited a long time. Something rustled again and she started. "Resolute, agile steps" were heard. Well, now he will come, her idol. Mountains of books, thousands of songs about it ... And in the 20th century the same trouble:

“Why do you love beautiful girls,

Only suffering from that love! "

“She looked closely, flushed suddenly, happily and happily smiled, was about to get up and immediately drooped all over again, turned pale, embarrassed, and only then raised a trembling, almost pleading look at the person who had come when he stopped next to her ...

He was, by all indications, the spoiled valet of a young, wealthy master. His clothes showed pretense to taste and dandy negligence. " “A short bronze-colored coat, probably from a master’s shoulder”, “pink tie”, “velvet black cap with gold lace, pulled down to the very eyebrows. The face is "fresh" and "cheeky". “He apparently tried to give his coarse features a contemptuous and bored expression”, screwed up his eyes and “broke intolerably”.

“- And what, - he asked, sitting down next to him, but indifferently looking somewhere to the side and yawning, - how long have you been here?

For a long time, Viktor Alexandritch, ”she said, finally in a barely audible voice.

Ah! .. I had completely forgotten. Besides, you see, it's raining! (He yawned again.) Things are abyss: you can't see everything, but he still scolds. We're going tomorrow ...

Tomorrow? - said the girl and fixed a frightened gaze at him.

Tomorrow ... Well, well, well, please, "he picked up hastily and with annoyance, please, Akulina, don't cry. You know I hate it ...

Well, I won't, I won't, "Akulina said hastily, swallowing her tears with an effort."

(He didn't care if they were going to see each other.)

“- See you, see you. Not next year - so after. The master, it seems, wants to enter the service in St. Petersburg, ... and maybe we will go abroad.

You will forget me, Viktor Alexandritch, ”Akulina said sadly.

No, why? I will not forget you; only you be smart, don't fool around, obey your father ... But I won't forget you - no-no. (And he calmly stretched and yawned again).

Don't forget me, Viktor Alexandritch, ”she went on in an imploring voice. - Oh, it seems, what I loved you for, everything seems to be for you ... You say I obey my father, Viktor Alexandritch ... But how can I obey my father ...

And what? (He said this while lying on his back with his hands under his head.)

Why, Viktor Alexandritch, you yourself know ...

You, Akulina, are not stupid girl, "he finally spoke up:" and therefore don’t talk nonsense ... I wish you well ... Of course, you are not stupid, not quite a peasant, so to speak; and your mother was not always a peasant either. All the same, you are without education - therefore, you must obey when you are told.

Yes, it's scary, Viktor Alexandritch.

And-and, what nonsense, my dear: in what did she find fear! What have you got, ”he added, moving towards her:“ flowers?

Flowers, - Akulina answered sadly. “It’s I picked a field rowan,” she continued, somewhat animated: “this is good for calves. And this is the series - against scrofula. Look at what a wonderful flower; I have never seen such a wonderful flower when I was born ... But this is for you, ”she added, pulling out from under a yellow rowan a small bunch of blue cornflowers tied with thin grass:“ Would you like it? Victor lazily stretched out his hand, took it, casually sniffed the flowers and began to twirl it in his fingers, looking up with thoughtful importance. Akulina looked at him ... There was so much tender devotion, reverent obedience, love in her sad gaze. She was afraid of him, and did not dare to cry, and said goodbye to him, and admired him for the last time; and he lay, lounging like a sultan, and with magnanimous patience and condescension endured her adoration ... Akulina was so good at that moment: her whole soul trustingly, passionately opened up before him, stretched out and clung to him, and he ... he dropped the cornflowers on grass, took a round glass in a bronze frame from the side pocket of his coat and began to squeeze it into his eye; but no matter how hard he tried to keep it with a frowning brow, a raised cheek, and even a nose, the glass all fell out and fell into his hand.

What's this? - Asked, at last, amazed Akulina.

Lornet, ”he replied with gravity.

For what?

And to see better.

Show me.

Victor grimaced, but gave her a glass.

Don't break it, look.

I probably won't break it. (She timidly raised it to her eye.) I can't see anything, ”she said innocently.

You must close your eyes, shut your eyes, ”he objected in the voice of a disgruntled mentor. (She closed her eyes, in front of which she was holding a glass). - Yes, not that, not that, stupid! Another! - Victor exclaimed and, not letting her correct her mistake, he took the lorgnette from her.

Akulina blushed, laughed a little and turned away.

Apparently not good enough for us, ”she said.

The poor thing paused and took a deep breath.

Ah, Viktor Alexandritch, how it will be for us to be without you! she said suddenly.

Victor wiped off the lorgnette and put it back in his pocket.

Yes, yes, - he finally spoke up: - at first it will be hard for you, for sure. (He patted her condescendingly on the shoulder; she quietly took his hand from her shoulder and kissed it timidly). Well, yes, yes, you are definitely a kind girl, - he continued with a smug smile: - but what to do? Judge for yourself! The master and I cannot stay here; now winter is coming, and in the village in winter - you yourself know - it's just nasty. It’s different in St. Petersburg! There are simply such miracles that you, stupid, and cannot imagine in a dream. What houses, streets, and society, education - just surprise! .. (Akulina listened to him with devouring attention, slightly opening her lips, like a child). However, - he added, turning on the ground: - why am I telling you all this? You cannot understand this. "

In the soul of the serf peasant, the "muzhik", for all his primitiveness and savagery, there was sometimes a Christian gentleness, humble simplicity. The lackey, at least a little bit in touch with the lordly luxury, privileges, amusements, but unlike the rich master, is deprived of all this; and, in addition, never studied, well, at least like his master: "something and somehow"; such a lackey was often corrupted. The dark guy, having seen the "society" and various "miracles", Petersburg or also overseas, looks down on his former "class brothers" and for the sake of his own amusement will spare no one.

But back to Akulina and the valet.

“- Why, Viktor Alexandrovich? I realized; I understood everything.

See how it is!

Akulina looked down.

You didn’t talk to me like that before, Viktor Alexandritch, ”she said without raising her eyes.

Before? .. before! See, you! .. Before! - he remarked, as if indignant.

They were both silent.

However, it's time for me to go, - said Victor and was already leaning on his elbow ...

What to expect? After all, I have already said goodbye to you.

Wait, - repeated Akulina ... Her lips twitched, her pale cheeks were faintly reddened ...

Viktor Alexandritch, 'she finally spoke up in a broken voice:' you are sinful ... you are sinful, Viktor Alexandritch ...

What is sinful? he asked, frowning ...

It's a sin, Viktor Alexandritch. If only they would say a kind word to me at parting; at least they could say a word to me, to the unfortunate orphan ...

What can I tell you?

I do not know; you know that better, Viktor Alexandritch. Here you go, and at least a word ... What did I deserve?

How strange you are! What can I do!

At least a word.

Well, I charged the same thing, ”he said in annoyance and stood up.

Don't be angry, Viktor Alexandritch, ”she added hastily, barely holding back her tears.

I am not angry, but only you are stupid ... What do you want? Can't I marry you? Can't I? Well, what do you want? What?..

I don’t want anything… I don’t want anything, ”she answered, stammering and barely daring to stretch out her trembling hands to him:“ Well, at least a goodbye word ...

And tears poured down her stream.

Well, that's right, she went to cry, - Victor said coolly, pulling his cap over his eyes from behind.

I don’t want anything, ”she continued, sobbing and covering her face with both hands:“ but what is it like for me now in the family, what is it for me? And what will become of me, what will become of me, miserable? They will give out an orphan as a disgrace ... Poor little little head of mine!

And he had at least a word, at least one ... Say, Akulina, they say I ...

Sudden, chest-tearing sobs did not let her finish her speech - she fell face down on the grass and bitterly, bitterly wept ... Her whole body was convulsively agitated ... Long restrained grief finally gushed out in a stream. Victor stood over her, stood, shrugged his shoulders, turned and walked away with long strides.

A few moments passed ... She became quiet, raised her head, jumped up, looked around and threw up her hands; she wanted to run after him, but her legs gave way - she fell to her knees "...

Birch Grove. Middle of September. “From the very morning there was a light rain, replaced at times by warm sunshine; the weather was inconsistent. The sky was all covered with loose white clouds, then suddenly in places it cleared for a moment, and then from behind the parted clouds appeared azure, clear and tender ... ".

The hunter fell asleep serenely, "nesting" under a tree, "whose branches began low above the ground" and could protect from the rain, and when he woke up, he saw a young peasant girl twenty paces away from him. She sat with her head down thoughtfully and both hands on her knees. She wore a plaid skirt and "a clean white shirt buttoned at the throat and tassels." A narrow scarlet bandage, pulled almost to the very forehead, “thick blond hair of a beautiful ash color” ... “Her whole head was very sweet; even a slightly thick and round nose did not spoil it. I especially liked the expression on her face: it was so simple and meek, so sad and so full of childish bewilderment before its own sadness. "

She was waiting for someone; started when something crunched in the forest, listened for a few moments, sighed. "Her eyelids turned red, her lips moved bitterly, and a new tear rolled from under her thick eyelashes, stopping and sparkling radiantly on her cheek."

She waited a long time. Something rustled again and she started. "Resolute, agile steps" were heard. Well, now he will come, her idol. Mountains of books, thousands of songs about it ... And in the 20th century the same trouble:

“Why do you love beautiful girls,

Only suffering from that love! "

“She looked closely, flushed suddenly, happily and happily smiled, was about to get up and immediately drooped all over again, turned pale, embarrassed, and only then raised a trembling, almost pleading look at the person who had come when he stopped next to her ...

He was, by all indications, the spoiled valet of a young, wealthy master. His clothes showed pretense to taste and dandy negligence. " “A short bronze-colored coat, probably from a master’s shoulder”, “pink tie”, “velvet black cap with gold lace, pulled down to the very eyebrows. The face is "fresh" and "cheeky". “He apparently tried to give his coarse features a contemptuous and bored expression”, screwed up his eyes and “broke intolerably”.

“- And what, - he asked, sitting down next to him, but indifferently looking somewhere to the side and yawning, - how long have you been here?

For a long time, Viktor Alexandritch, ”she said, finally in a barely audible voice.

Ah! .. I had completely forgotten. Besides, you see, it's raining! (He yawned again.) Things are abyss: you can't see everything, but he still scolds. We're going tomorrow ...

Tomorrow? - said the girl and fixed a frightened gaze at him.

Tomorrow ... Well, well, well, please, "he picked up hastily and with annoyance, please, Akulina, don't cry. You know I hate it ...

Well, I won't, I won't, "Akulina said hastily, swallowing her tears with an effort."

(He didn't care if they were going to see each other.)

“- See you, see you. Not next year - so after. The master, it seems, wants to enter the service in St. Petersburg, ... and maybe we will go abroad.

You will forget me, Viktor Alexandritch, ”Akulina said sadly.

No, why? I will not forget you; only you be smart, don't fool around, obey your father ... But I won't forget you - no-no. (And he calmly stretched and yawned again).

Don't forget me, Viktor Alexandritch, ”she went on in an imploring voice. - Oh, it seems, what I loved you for, everything seems to be for you ... You say I obey my father, Viktor Alexandritch ... But how can I obey my father ...

And what? (He said this while lying on his back with his hands under his head.)

Why, Viktor Alexandritch, you yourself know ...

You, Akulina, are not stupid girl, "he finally spoke up:" and therefore don’t talk nonsense ... I wish you well ... Of course, you are not stupid, not quite a peasant, so to speak; and your mother was not always a peasant either. All the same, you are without education - therefore, you must obey when you are told.

Yes, it's scary, Viktor Alexandritch.

And-and, what nonsense, my dear: in what did she find fear! What have you got, ”he added, moving towards her:“ flowers?

Flowers, - Akulina answered sadly. “It’s I picked a field rowan,” she continued, somewhat animated: “this is good for calves. And this is the series - against scrofula. Look at what a wonderful flower; I have never seen such a wonderful flower when I was born ... But this is for you, ”she added, pulling out from under a yellow rowan a small bunch of blue cornflowers tied with thin grass:“ Would you like it? Victor lazily stretched out his hand, took it, casually sniffed the flowers and began to twirl it in his fingers, looking up with thoughtful importance. Akulina looked at him ... There was so much tender devotion, reverent obedience, love in her sad gaze. She was afraid of him, and did not dare to cry, and said goodbye to him, and admired him for the last time; and he lay, lounging like a sultan, and with magnanimous patience and condescension endured her adoration ... Akulina was so good at that moment: her whole soul trustingly, passionately opened up before him, stretched out and clung to him, and he ... he dropped the cornflowers on grass, took a round glass in a bronze frame from the side pocket of his coat and began to squeeze it into his eye; but no matter how hard he tried to keep it with a frowning brow, a raised cheek, and even a nose, the glass all fell out and fell into his hand.

What's this? - Asked, at last, amazed Akulina.

Lornet, ”he replied with gravity.

For what?

And to see better.

Show me.

Victor grimaced, but gave her a glass.

Don't break it, look.

I probably won't break it. (She timidly raised it to her eye.) I can't see anything, ”she said innocently.

You must close your eyes, shut your eyes, ”he objected in the voice of a disgruntled mentor. (She closed her eyes, in front of which she was holding a glass). - Yes, not that, not that, stupid! Another! - Victor exclaimed and, not letting her correct her mistake, he took the lorgnette from her.

Akulina blushed, laughed a little and turned away.

Apparently not good enough for us, ”she said.

The poor thing paused and took a deep breath.

Ah, Viktor Alexandritch, how it will be for us to be without you! she said suddenly.

Victor wiped off the lorgnette and put it back in his pocket.

Yes, yes, - he finally spoke up: - at first it will be hard for you, for sure. (He patted her condescendingly on the shoulder; she quietly took his hand from her shoulder and kissed it timidly). Well, yes, yes, you are definitely a kind girl, - he continued with a smug smile: - but what to do? Judge for yourself! The master and I cannot stay here; now winter is coming, and in the village in winter - you yourself know - it's just nasty. It’s different in St. Petersburg! There are simply such miracles that you, stupid, and cannot imagine in a dream. What houses, streets, and society, education - just surprise! .. (Akulina listened to him with devouring attention, slightly opening her lips, like a child). However, - he added, turning on the ground: - why am I telling you all this? You cannot understand this. "

In the soul of the serf peasant, the "muzhik", for all his primitiveness and savagery, there was sometimes a Christian gentleness, humble simplicity. The lackey, at least a little bit in touch with the lordly luxury, privileges, amusements, but unlike the rich master, is deprived of all this; and, in addition, never studied, well, at least like his master: "something and somehow"; such a lackey was often corrupted. The dark guy, having seen the "society" and various "miracles", Petersburg or also overseas, looks down on his former "class brothers" and for the sake of his own amusement will spare no one.

But back to Akulina and the valet.

“- Why, Viktor Alexandrovich? I realized; I understood everything.

See how it is!

Akulina looked down.

You didn’t talk to me like that before, Viktor Alexandritch, ”she said without raising her eyes.

Before? .. before! See, you! .. Before! - he remarked, as if indignant.

They were both silent.

However, it's time for me to go, - said Victor and was already leaning on his elbow ...

What to expect? After all, I have already said goodbye to you.

Wait, - repeated Akulina ... Her lips twitched, her pale cheeks were faintly reddened ...

Viktor Alexandritch, 'she finally spoke up in a broken voice:' you are sinful ... you are sinful, Viktor Alexandritch ...

What is sinful? he asked, frowning ...

It's a sin, Viktor Alexandritch. If only they would say a kind word to me at parting; at least they could say a word to me, to the unfortunate orphan ...

What can I tell you?

I do not know; you know that better, Viktor Alexandritch. Here you go, and at least a word ... What did I deserve?

How strange you are! What can I do!

At least a word.

Well, I charged the same thing, ”he said in annoyance and stood up.

Don't be angry, Viktor Alexandritch, ”she added hastily, barely holding back her tears.

I am not angry, but only you are stupid ... What do you want? Can't I marry you? Can't I? Well, what do you want? What?..

I don’t want anything… I don’t want anything, ”she answered, stammering and barely daring to stretch out her trembling hands to him:“ Well, at least a goodbye word ...

And tears poured down her stream.

Well, that's right, she went to cry, - Victor said coolly, pulling his cap over his eyes from behind.

I don’t want anything, ”she continued, sobbing and covering her face with both hands:“ but what is it like for me now in the family, what is it for me? And what will become of me, what will become of me, miserable? They will give out an orphan as a disgrace ... Poor little little head of mine!

And he had at least a word, at least one ... Say, Akulina, they say I ...

Sudden, chest-tearing sobs did not let her finish her speech - she fell face down on the grass and bitterly, bitterly wept ... Her whole body was convulsively agitated ... Long restrained grief finally gushed out in a stream. Victor stood over her, stood, shrugged his shoulders, turned and walked away with long strides.

A few moments passed ... She became quiet, raised her head, jumped up, looked around and threw up her hands; she wanted to run after him, but her legs gave way - she fell to her knees "...

I stood, picked up a bunch of cornflowers and went out of the grove into the field. "

Deprived of everything. Except for youth, sweet untouched charm. And she sacrificed this to a random rogue. And he, too, in essence, is deprived of everything, and is also morally crippled. A parrot gazing trustingly at "sociality", "education" and so on.

And for her, he is not only the first love, but, perhaps, the personification of unknown, distant "miracles", "which you, stupid and in a dream, cannot imagine"; he is from a dream, beautiful and inaccessible.

It's not just about unrequited love, it's also about social oppression.

“It was no more than half an hour until evening, and the dawn was barely kindling. A gusty wind rushed rapidly towards me through the yellow, dried stubble; hurrying up in front of him, small, warped leaves rushed past, across the road, along the edge of the forest; ... through the sad, though fresh smile of fading nature, it seemed, a dull fear of the near winter crept in. "

© Volskaya Inna Sergeevna, 1999