A comprehensive analysis of A. Blok’s poem “About valor, about exploits, about glory…. Poem by A. A. Blok About valor, about exploits, about glory. Perception, interpretation, evaluation Your face in its simple frame
Analysis of Blok's poem "About valor, about exploits, about glory" (addressed to his wife).
I. Love is peace for the soul.
II. Analysis of the poem.
1. Composition of the poem.
2. Genre of the poem.
3. Epithets, personifications, metaphors.
4 Parallel with Pushkin’s poem.
III. Faith in love is the salvation of the soul.
Alexander Alexandrovich Blok lived and wrote in very difficult historical conditions, painfully feeling the lack of harmony in the “terrible world.” He didn’t feel it in his soul either. Only love could bring Blok that necessary, desired peace, without which it was impossible to live. Love was designed to eliminate chaos not only in the soul, but also in the world around the poet. Blok deified love, which revealed to him the high meaning of life. He dedicated a large number of poems to this wonderful feeling. One of them is “About valor, about exploits, about glory.”
This poem was written in 1908. That lofty, sinless love has left the poet’s life forever, reality has destroyed the ideal, and the poet mourns the lost pure dream, in which he is now unable to believe so strongly:
About valor, about exploits, about glory
I forgot on the sorrowful land,
It shone on the table in front of me
Don't dream about tenderness, about fame,
Everything is over, youth is gone!
Your face in its simple frame
I removed it from the table with my own hand.
The poem “About valor, about exploits, about glory” has the structure of a ring composition: the first line repeats the last, but is opposed to it; at the conclusion of the poem, the author seems to want to repeat the first line, but he no longer thinks about valor or exploits, he is looking for at least tenderness, but does not find it either.
The genre of the poem is a love letter. The hero turns to the woman he loves who has left him. He feels a passionate desire to return the love lost many years ago:
I called you, but you didn't look back,
I shed tears, but you did not condescend.
Having parted with his beloved, the hero lost the meaning of life, he lost himself. He never met true love again, on his life's path
There was only passion:
The days flew by, spinning like a damned swarm.
Wine and passion tormented my life
And I remembered you in front of the lectern,
And he called you like his youth
Those days when the beloved’s face shone were replaced by terrible days, swirling in a “cursed swarm.” The image of the “terrible world” is symbolic; it is one of the key ones in the poem. Merging with the image of a damp night, it contrasts with the “blue cloak” of the past, the cloak in which the heroine wrapped herself when leaving home (the blue color is treason):
You sadly wrapped yourself in a blue cloak,
On a damp night you left the house.
I don’t know where my pride has a refuge
You, gentle one, you, dear one, have found
I sleep soundly, I dream of your blue cloak,
In which you left on a damp night.
Days are like nights, life seems like a dream (“I am fast asleep”).
In the poem we encounter a large number of epithets: “on a sorrowful land”, “cherished ring”, “cursed swarm”, “damp night”. The tenderness with which the hero remembers his beloved, comparing her with his youth: “And he called you like his youth,” is reflected in the work with such epithets as: “beautiful face,” “you, dear,” “you, tender.” There are personifications and metaphors in the poem: “when your face is in a simple frame”, “it shone on the table in front of me”, “I threw the treasured ring into the night”, “you gave your destiny to another”, “the days flew by”, “wine and passion tormented my life,” “I sleep soundly.”
If you carefully read the poem “About valor, about exploits, about glory”, then it is easy to notice that it echoes the poem by A.S. Pushkin "I remember a wonderful moment".
When your face is in a simple frame
It shone on the table in front of me
In Pushkin we see similar lines:
I remember a wonderful moment:
You appeared before me.
“And I forgot your beautiful face” - “And I forgot your gentle voice.” “The days flew by” - “the years passed.” But, despite such a similar scenario, the endings of the poems are completely opposite: A.S. In Pushkin, by the end of the poem, the awakening of the soul occurs, but in Blok we see only bitterness, despair (the hero did not return his beloved).
A. Blok always believed in the saving faith of love, love as a cleansing bright feeling and strived to give all of himself to love, great love for a woman, for the Motherland. He dedicated his feelings, thoughts, and soul to love, which is clearly expressed in his poems throughout the work of the great poet, whose name we are proud of to this day.
17.11.2011 15:05:00
Review: positive
Victor, let me be a little mischievous. :))
Excerpt from the novel "..."
Igor downed his glass and with an artistic gesture grabbed a blue volume from the shelf.
With your permission, gentlemen and ladies, let's take Blok. I beg your pardon, San Sanych, I will slightly shake your tripod with incense. What is the most famous poem of the great poet? Well, except for the poem “The Twelve”? Of course, this: “About valor, about exploits, about glory.” But! Think about it: the poem is entirely based on logical mistakes. We read the first stanza:
“About valor, about exploits, about glory
I forgot on the sorrowful land,
When your face is in a simple frame
It was shining on the table in front of me.”
What is it about? - Igoresha looked around the audience. - Some time ago the lyrical hero was in love. I even forgot about what usually occupies men much more than some beloved woman - fame. Of course, he was separated from his beloved. All that was left of the lady of the heart was a “face in a simple frame” - a photograph or portrait.
“But the hour has come, and you left home...”
Hello, you're welcome! It turns out that in the previous stanza she lived with him, this woman? She sat next to her, looked, for example, out the window, and at that time he looked at her portrait shining on the table. Apparently the portrait shone better. And he was staring at the portrait, not at his lady. Ha, dear Lear. hero! I know why she left you. If I were in her place, I would do the same.
“But the hour has come, and you left home,
I threw the treasured ring into the night.
You gave your destiny to someone else
And I forgot the beautiful face."
Forgot? So, did you throw away the portrait? Yeah, on the night together with the treasured ring. If the portrait had continued to stand on the table, the hero would not have forgotten his face. I’m not talking about the epithets “cherished” (ring) and “beautiful” (face).
This is the style of a cruel romance,” Lucy finally raised her voice. “Such things are acceptable there.”
“I called you, but you didn’t look back,
I shed tears, but you did not condescend,
You sadly wrapped yourself in a blue cloak,
You left the house on a damp night.”
Yes, this is a complete failure! Four verb rhymes in a row! And what! “She came down and left”, “looked back and turned around”! “I shed tears...” - a good tearful hero dreaming of glory! Any editor, seeing such a helpless technique, is obliged to close the manuscript and return it to the author. But this is Blok! Genius! He can! And, by the way, according to the logic of the plot development, it turns out that the heroine left again (again!). When did she manage to return? There is nothing about this in the text!
“I don’t know where my pride has a refuge
You, my dear, you, my gentle one, have found...
I sleep soundly, I dream of your blue cloak,
In which you left on a damp night...”
"I'm fast asleep." Lucy, how would you react to such a confession from your gentleman? Guys, if you ever want to tell your loved one that you feel bad without her, don’t tell her that you sleep soundly and have a good appetite! Further, on the psychology of lyres. hero: he either sheds tears or sleeps soundly. Let me remind Stanislavsky: I don’t believe it!
“No longer dream of tenderness, of glory,
Everything is over, youth is gone!
Your face in its simple frame
I removed it from the table with my own hand.”
How can you put “tenderness” and “glory” in the same semantic row? It’s like “warm” and “green” – the words don’t fit together. A classic mistake of inexperienced poets. As for the “face in a simple frame,” it was, in theory, removed from the table three stanzas ago. Remember when lyr. did the hero forget his face? How did this face end up on the table again?
And the epithets?! The cloak is blue, the frame is simple, the night is damp. Banality upon banality. Where is the symbolism for which Blok is so famous? Where, in what lines can it be found and assessed here? And this creation is presented as an example of poetry? In my opinion, all this - the face-ring, found-went, left-descended - does not stand up to the slightest criticism.
“I cut up Blok like a herring,” Lucy smiled sparingly. - It's funny.
It’s clear,” Dimka finally broke through Igor’s monologue, “to appreciate these poems, you need to understand their context, namely, have an idea of the personalities of Alexander Blok and Lyubov Mendeleeva. Readers - and these were people from their own circle - saw in these poems something more than just words. Symbolism precisely implies that there is some hidden, sacred meaning. It was believed that this secret knowledge was available to Blok’s “initiated” contemporaries. And you, Igorek, anatomized the text as a set of words, according to their first plan. With such an analysis, the entire spirit of the era evaporated.
Thanks for explaining, damn it. But let me, old man, misbehave a little and entertain Lucy. Yes, and agree, Dimych: if today someone brought you such poems without naming the author, you would gouge them out worse than me! I did not at all want to debunk San Sanych. I have a different goal: to show how the criteria of perfection and beauty can change depending on the era. Even in such a thoroughly lived-in environment as poetry. Lucy is right: today such a text can only be perceived as a cruel romance. Many masterpieces of earlier times are, let’s say, not relevant today. But the paradox of history is that the work, in fact, is long gone, but the glory of its author lasts.
And what I feel most sorry for in this poem is its heroine, Lyuba Mendeleeva,” Lucy shrugged. “During her lifetime, she was made into an idol and placed on a pedestal. No one remembers her tragedy on this pillar. Everyone - ah, Blok! And she?
As Anna Akhmatova said about her memoirs, “Blok and Bely loved you. Shut up!” - Igorek threw in some wood.
Well, experts, tell me, which of the geniuses of Russian poetry rhymed “myself-you” and “couldn’t-sick”?
“Pushkin,” Dimych and I said in unison, looked at each other and laughed. - This is from the first stanza of Onegin.
Pour it up, boys! So why are we drinking?
And whoever is in tune with the era will have no problems! - Dimych immediately said."
Being an extremely romantic person, generous with spiritual personal feelings, with his poems he literally created a school of love experiences.
Dedicating poems to his muse, his beautiful lady, the poet literally dissolves in his own emotional impulses and difficult moods. This is the highest value of his life.
Blok considered spiritual intimacy to be the pinnacle of relationships.
The history of the conception and creation of the poem
Blok’s poem “About valor, about exploits, about glory...” was created based on real events that happened to the poet himself. It is known that when he saw his future wife for the first time, the author was captivated and delighted. That is why the lyrics of this period are so passionate and so impressionable. He hoped that his marriage with the woman he loved would be happy. But everything turned out to be completely different from what the poet had planned.
Lyubov Mendeleev, the poet’s wife, turned out to be not as romantic as Alexander Blok wished. Very quickly their marital relationship began to disintegrate and already in 1908 she left her husband, allegedly going on tour with the Meyerhold Theater. By the way, in the same year, on the thirtieth of December, the poet writes this amazing but sad poem about his sad love. It is known that Lyubov Mendeleeva, after several years of marriage, left for another - the famous poet A. Bely. But then she returned to Alexander Blok again, and even repented of having made such a grave mistake in her life. And the poet forgives her, since during this time he also had several romantic interests.
But Lyubov Mendeleeva was missing something in her marriage. She became interested in someone else again and went to him. She gives birth to a son from this man, but then decides to return to the poet again. All this time they did not interrupt contact, since Alexander Blok himself insisted on friendship, for whom spiritual intimacy was always more important than physical intimacy. It is known that they knew each other from early childhood, but then, having separated for a while, they met again. After they began to live together, the poet did not want any carnal relationships, since for him it was secondary and overshadowed spiritual intimacy. Lyubov Mendeleeva was an actress who, every time, both after her tours and after new hobbies, still returned to Alexander Blok.
All these love triangles eventually spilled out into a lyrical work in 1908.
About valor, about exploits, about glory
I forgot on the sorrowful land,
When your face is in a simple frame
It was shining on the table in front of me.
But the hour came, and you left home.
I threw the treasured ring into the night.
You gave your destiny to someone else
And I forgot the beautiful face.
The days flew by, spinning like a damned swarm...
Wine and passion tormented my life...
And I remembered you in front of the lectern,
And he called you like his youth...
I called you, but you didn't look back,
I shed tears, but you did not condescend.
You sadly wrapped yourself in a blue cloak,
On a damp night you left home.
I don’t know where my pride has a refuge
You, dear, you are tender, you found...
I sleep soundly, I dream of your blue cloak,
In which you left on a damp night...
Don't dream about tenderness, about fame,
Everything is over, youth is gone!
Your face in its simple frame
I removed it from the table with my own hand.
With great sadness, the poet describes the situation in which he found himself. The departure of the beloved is a tragedy that plays out before the reader’s eyes. Complete despair and disappointment engulfs the main character in “I threw the treasured ring into the night.”
Memories remain, a bright image, and as proof that everything happened, a photograph on the table “of your face in a simple frame.” Sadness and pain of loss do not cause negative feelings. The main character remembers the bright image “in front of the lectern.” Even the fact that the beloved has left for another man does not allow her image to be tarnished.
The poet does not blame anyone for his suffering; not a single bad word is said about the departed woman. The hero has no choice but to accept his fate. With a heavy heart, he mentally lets go of the object of his adoration.
To make it easier to cope with the loss, the abandoned lyricist removes the woman’s photograph with his own hand, hoping that this will make him feel better.
Composition “About valor, about exploits, about glory...”
Blok’s entire poem is divided into three large parts: the first is the author trying to forget the woman he loves, the second is his memory of her, the third is the decision to let go. he ends up removing her photograph from his desk. The composition in the work is circular and helps the author show the present time, the past and what awaits in the future.
The poet, trying to explain his main idea to the reader, uses a large number of verbs, but all of them are used in the past tense. The poet shows that everything has already passed, and there is now no suffering in his life at all. The author talks about those feelings that he has already experienced, it’s just that the memory remains of them. The soul of the main character has now calmed down and he can even sleep, calmly and without worries.
An interesting female image is shown by Alexander Blok in just a few descriptive features. She is beautiful, gentle, independent, fearless and proud. The poet’s attitude towards her is tender, as if he is creating a deity out of her. And her photograph, like an icon, stood on his table. He dreams of her as if she were bliss; dreams of her bring joy to the poet, not suffering. Perhaps that is why the author chooses the form of a message for this poem - a declaration of love.
Expressive means
The declaration of love that sounds in Alexander Blok's poem refers to the time when they were together with the woman they loved, but now this time has passed and will never return. The author tries to use as many expressive means as possible to diversify the literary text:
★ Metaphors.
★ Anaphora.
★ Epithets.
★ Syntactic parallelism.
★ Comparisons.
★ Paraphrase.
★ Personifications.
★ Inversion.
★ Dots.
All this helps the perception of the poem. By the end of the work, the reader sincerely sympathizes with the author, sharing his tragedy.
Symbols in the poem
One of the symbols that the author successfully introduced into the text is a ring. Its main character throws himself into the night, as an indicator of a complete break. The rings that spouses gave each other are no longer a symbol of love and fidelity, so there is no need to stand on ceremony with this accessory.
The second symbol is a blue cloak, which is repeated several times in the text. The cloak is a symbol of the road, and the blue color itself is anxiety and loneliness. Blue is also the color of betrayal. For our lyrical hero, everything is mixed up from the betrayal of his beloved woman and disappointment, and Blok chooses a blue cloak to show even more clearly the tragedy of the situation.
Photography becomes a symbol of love and tenderness, and the author emphasizes “in a simple frame” several times. The author is so in love that he doesn’t care what quality the frame is. Photos are dear to my heart.
Analysis of the poem
The love story described in the poem is controversial and controversial. You can't return your former happiness. A problem that has arisen in family life is a fateful fate!
Alexander Blok treated his own wife more like a muse, like a creative inspirer. And Lyubov Mendeleeva, although she was a person of art and an actress, apparently wanted to remain an earthly woman. This was the contradiction between the spouses, so talented and so different.
For the poet, his wife is not only a source of purity. He associates it with freshness, with youth. He notes that after her departure there is a farewell to youth: “Everything is over, youth is gone!” It’s as if with the woman’s departure the main character lost all his bearings, but realized that this was the point of no return. The point of no return to youth, love, former happiness.
His hopes were dashed, which is why he removes the portrait of his beloved woman from the table at the very end of the poem. It’s difficult for him to do this, but he understands that he must. The poet showed the reader that reason still triumphed over feelings, and no matter how sad he was, he still committed the final act. This decision turned out to be the most correct and correct. Now this enormous feeling of love will no longer bring him so much pain and suffering. And maybe happiness will soon appear in his life, and sadness and tragedy will go away.
2. Indicate the means of creating expressiveness.
3. In the last paragraph, emphasize the grammatical basics in the BSC
And I forgot the beautiful face.
I shed tears, but you did not condescend.
On a damp night you left the house.
I don’t know where my pride has a refuge
(A. Blok)
please help me write out complex sentences from the poem that combine different types of communication!! About valor, about exploits, aboutglory
I forgot on the sorrowful land,
When your face is in a simple frame
It was shining on the table in front of me.
But the hour came, and you left home.
I threw the treasured ring into the night.
You gave your destiny to someone else
And I forgot the beautiful face.
The days flew by, spinning like a damned swarm...
Wine and passion tormented my life...
And I remembered you in front of the lectern,
And he called you like his youth...
I called you, but you didn't look back,
I shed tears, but you did not condescend.
You sadly wrapped yourself in a blue cloak,
On a damp night you left the house.
I don't know where your pride is sheltered
You, my dear, you, my gentle one, have found...
I sleep soundly, I dream of your blue cloak,
In which you left on a damp night...
Don't dream about tenderness, about fame,
Everything is over, youth is gone!
Your face in its simple frame
I removed it from the table with my own hand.
busy. 4. The legend is silent about whether this castle has survived. 5.I can guess why you wanted to come. 6. I'm sad because you're having fun. 7. Happiness awaits us there, where we don’t dream of finding it. 8.If you go to him, you can stretch your legs.
Task 2. Copy, opening the brackets and indicating the rank of the pronoun. 1) (Someone) (about) (whom) p...think 2) (to whom) (someone) entrust 3) to prepare for (not)how many minutes? ) (dis) agree(?) 7) (what) (that) items 8) (whose) (that) advice 9) (not) something interesting 10) (what) (that) had to be refused(?) 11) You (will not) learn yourself, (nor) anyone (will) teach.12) What (hurts) someone, he (about) speaks about.13) He (is not) mistaken who (doesn’t) do anything does.14) It is bad for the one who does good (not) to anyone.15) My son is mine, but his mind is his own.16) Keep yourself from troubles while they are gone.17) (Neither ) what am I (not) afraid of, but (neither) (with) whom and (not) scolding.18) You (not) put a scarf on each mouth. 19) The enemy learned a lot that day what Russian daring combat means, our hand-to-hand combat. 20) Hearing such a judgment, my poor Nightingale took flight and flew to distant lands. 21) The pure field has died, there are no longer those bright days. 22) I don’t know any other country where people can breathe so freely. 23) The lodge stood on Borovoy moss, in a vast swamp. Such swamps in the Ryazan region are called mshars. 24) We chose a place under a steep ravine, sheltered from the westerly wind. This wind always began to blow in the morning and continued until noon.
Help me condense the presentation to 70-75 words, keeping all the paragraphs. The understanding that we are all different comes to us in childhood. Without knowing yetmeaning of the word “character”, we divide our acquaintances into evil and kind, cheerful and sad. In adulthood, we avoid people with “difficult” characters and bring closer to us those with whom we find it easy, pleasant and interesting.
A person’s character is a certain way of thinking, manifested in a system of relationships towards other people, business, oneself and property.
No matter how many times a person finds himself in similar situations, his reaction will always be approximately the same. Knowing a person well, you can predict the development of events with a high percentage of probability. Usually, by how a person behaves, his character is assessed, the manifestation of which is associated with temperament, inclinations and abilities.
Temperament qualities are innate and manifest themselves in emotionality, speed of movement and thinking, and sociability. A person's character is not an innate personality trait. It develops throughout life, its prerequisites can be seen from a very early age, but the first manifestations can be detected in twelve-year-old adolescents.
Many character traits are based on temperamental characteristics. Patience and perseverance are more characteristic of phlegmatic and melancholic people, and sociability is more characteristic of choleric and sanguine people.
The younger the child, the less life experience he has and the less developed the ability to manage himself. The role of the adults around the child is great, they regulate the child’s behavior and act as teachers. The higher the level of the teacher, the more successful a student he can raise. Good qualities will be better instilled if people significant to the child demonstrate them themselves.
In the past, many attempts have been made to calculate the influence of environmental factors on the formation of a child’s character. They can be reduced to simple truths: love your child, be natural, be guided not by upbringing theories, but by your own feelings and the feelings of the child.
Alexander Blok wrote a lot about love, he wrote in a special way, light and sad. Joy and sadness were combined in his love lyrics, apparently because the ideal of a refined and sublime, proud and trusting, beautiful and gentle woman did not find its earthly embodiment.
Blok was at first very passionate about his future wife Lyubov Dmitrievna Mendeleeva, to whom he dedicated the series “Poems about a Beautiful Lady.” According to K.I. Chukovsky, if you read this book carefully, you will see that “this is a true story about how one teenager fell so enthusiastically in love with his neighbor that he created the Radiant Virgin out of her and transformed her entire surrounding landscape into unearthly villages. This was the same thing that Dante did to the daughter of his neighbor Partinari.” All the poems in the collection are imbued with a thirst “to see the unearthly in the earthly” (V. Bryusov). A purely personal experience is melted here into the universal, into a mystery with the future descent to earth of the Eternal Feminine.
For six years, Blok wrote about one woman and dedicated 687 poems to her. In 1903, the poet married Lyubov Dmitrievna - and the lyrical diary addressed to the Beautiful Lady ceased. Blok’s poetic world includes new themes and new images. The poet depicts the ulcers of the “terrible world”, expresses sympathy for the oppressed and condemns the “well-fed”. This is how the cycles of poems “Terrible World”, “Retribution”, “Iambics” appear.
In the “Retribution” cycle, in which the poet prophesies a speedy judgment and retribution for a society that has shackled, enslaved and “frozen” a person, the now famous “On Valor, on Deeds, on Glory...” (1908) is published. The poem is written in a special manner and is noticeably different in style and theme from other poems in the “Retribution” cycle.
Reading this short work, I immediately remembered the Beautiful Lady, that unreal woman, lover, dream with whom the poet recently parted:
But the hour has come, and you left home,
I threw the treasured ring into the night.
You gave your destiny to someone else
And I forgot the beautiful face...
Yes, it is She - the Ancient Virgin, Dawn, Bush, Stranger, Eternal Wife, Beautiful Lady, who, “wrapped in a blue cloak sadly,” leaves the poet and retreats into memories, into the past, into the world of youth and dreams. The poet remains alone, sad and weak:
I called you, but you didn't look back,
I shed tears, but you did not condescend...
The words sound excited and loud, the pain of parting squeezes the trembling heart and takes away the breath. But the hero is no longer able to return anything back.
The poem is logically divided into three parts: the departure of a loved one, a sad life without hope and light, humility before fate.
The main idea of the work is a painful parting with the innermost dreams of youth. First, a sad and bitter memory of her, then a heart-aching consciousness of loss and, finally, apathy and indifference to the vain future, which no longer attracts with its mystery and novelty. The author uses the technique of framing, repeating the motif of a forgotten portrait in the first and last stanzas.
His lyrical hero clears the table as a sign of accepting life as it is.
In this Blok’s poem, it is rare, but still there are various paths that help us see new features and facets of the imaginary, to better understand the meaning (metaphor “days flew by, spinning in a damned swarm”, epithets: “cherished”, “sorrowful land”).
The block is incredibly accurate in conveying the semantic nuance of the word:
I shed tears, but you did not condescend...
She did not “return”, did not “appear”, but rather “descended”, this leaves no doubt that we are talking about the Goddess, about an Angel in a female guise. Or more:
When your face is in a simple frame
It was shining on the table in front of me...
The face “shone” like the face of a saint. The poet constantly emphasizes the unearthly origin of the great gift of love.
The work is written in Blok’s favorite poetic meter – iambic, using spondee. Cross rhyme. The stanza is a quatrain with alternating female and male rhymes.
The poem sounds melodious, melodic and very excited. The emotional tension grows from stanza to stanza. The poet uses many soft sonorant sounds [l], [m], [n], but when he wants to express indignation and anger, he increases the number of sounds [r], which gives the line hardness:
The days flew by, spinning like a damned swarm...
Wine and passion tormented my life...
The climax of the poem is the fourth stanza. After it, the tension subsides, the rhythm slows down. It seems as if the poet leaves, looks back for the last time at the table where the treasured portrait stood, and closes the door behind him.
You can reread the poem many times to immerse yourself in the fascinating world of Blok’s poetry. The poet chooses surprisingly precise words in order to express the depth of his feelings, pure, selfless, not demanding anything in return. His lines touch the soul, making us not witnesses, but accomplices of experiences:
I don’t know where my pride has a refuge
You, dear, you, gentle one, have found...
I sleep soundly, I dream of your blue cloak,
In which you left on a damp night...
