The article “A Ray of Light in the Dark Kingdom” by Dobrolyubov was written in 1860 and is dedicated to the drama “Thunderstorm” by A. N. Ostrovsky. The title of a critical article quickly became a popular phraseological unit denoting a bright, soul-reassuring phenomenon in some complex, confusing environment.

For the best preparation for the literature lesson, we recommend reading the online summary of “A Ray of Light in the Dark Kingdom”. A retelling of Dobrolyubov's article will also be useful for the reader's diary.

Nikolai Alexandrovich begins his article with the recognition that "Ostrovsky has a deep understanding of Russian life and a great ability to depict sharply and vividly its most essential aspects." Mentioning several critical articles about the play "Thunderstorm", he explains that many of them did not fully reveal the essence of the work.

Further, the publicist cites "the main rules of drama", among which he especially notes the "struggle of passion and duty", in which duty necessarily prevails. In addition, in a true drama, “strict unity and consistency” must be observed, the denouement must be a logical continuation of the plot, all characters and all dialogues must be directly involved in the development of the drama, the language must not “depart from literary purity and not turn into vulgarity” .

Starting to analyze Ostrovsky's play, Dobrolyubov points out that the author did not fully reveal the most important task of the drama - "to inspire respect for moral duty and show the detrimental consequences of passion". Katerina is presented as a martyr, not a criminal. According to Dobrolyubov, the plot is unnecessarily overloaded with details and characters, and the language "surpasses any patience of a well-bred person".

But immediately Nikolai Alexandrovich admits that criticism, squeezed in the grip of the dominant theory, dooms itself to enmity "to every progress, to everything new and original in literature." As an example, he cites the work of Shakespeare, who managed to raise the level of human consciousness to a previously unattainable height.

The publicist notes that all the plays of A. N. Ostrovsky can be safely called "plays of life", since they are dominated by "the general environment of life, independent of any of the characters." In his works, the writer "punishes neither the villain nor the victim": both of them are often funny and not energetic enough to resist fate. Thus, "the struggle demanded by theory from drama" in Ostrovsky's plays is carried out not due to the monologues of the actors, but due to the circumstances prevailing over them.

Just like in real life, negative characters do not always receive their well-deserved punishment, just as positive characters do not acquire the long-awaited happiness at the end of the work. The publicist carefully analyzes the inner world of each of the minor and episodic characters. He notes that in the play “the need for so-called “unnecessary” persons is especially visible”, with the help of which the character of the main character is most accurately and vividly outlined, and the meaning of the work becomes more understandable.

Dobrolyubov notes that "Thunderstorm" is "Ostrovsky's most decisive work", but at the same time it makes an "impression less heavy and sad" than all the other plays of the author. There is "something refreshing and uplifting" about The Thunderstorm.

Further, Dobrolyubov begins to analyze the image of Katerina, which "is a step forward" not only in Ostrovsky's work, but throughout Russian literature. Reality has come to the point that it needs "people, even if they are less beautiful, but more active and energetic." The strength of Katerina's character lies in integrity and harmony: for a girl, her own death is preferable to life in nasty and alien circumstances. Her soul is full of "natural aspirations for beauty, harmony, contentment, happiness."

Even in the gloomy atmosphere of the new family, Katerina "is looking for light, air, wants to dream and frolic." At first, she seeks solace in religion and soul-saving conversations, but does not find the bright and fresh impressions she needs. Realizing what she needs, the heroine manifests "quite the strength of her character, not wasted in petty antics."

Katerina is full of love and creativity. In her imagination, she tries to ennoble the reality that surrounds her. It has a strong "feeling of love for a person, a desire to find a kindred response in another heart." However, the essence of Katerina is not given to understand her husband, the downtrodden Tikhon Kabanov. She tries to believe that her husband is her destiny, “that in him there is the bliss that she so anxiously seeks”, but soon all her illusions are broken.

It is interesting to compare the heroine with a large full-flowing river, which deftly and freely bypasses all obstacles in its path. Having raged, it even breaks through the dams, but its seething is not caused by indignation and anger, but by the need to continue on its way.

Analyzing the character and actions of Katerina, Dobrolyubov comes to the conclusion that the best solution for the heroine is her escape with Boris. She does not blame anyone for her bitter fate, and sees death as the only consolation for herself, as a quiet, calm haven. “It’s sad, such a release is bitter,” but Katerina simply has no other choice. It is the determination of the woman to take this difficult step that leaves readers with a "refreshing impression."

Conclusion

In his article, Dobrolyubov emphasizes that one must have sufficient courage and honesty with oneself in order to carry a living, warming light within oneself.

After reading the brief retelling of "A Ray of Light in the Dark Kingdom", we recommend that you read Dobrolyubov's article in its full version.

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N. A. Dobrolyubov

Beam of light in the dark realm

("Thunderstorm", a drama in five acts by A. N. Ostrovsky. St. Petersburg, 1860)

(* See the articles "The Dark Kingdom" in Sovremennik, 1859, Nos VII and IX.)

N. A. Dobrolyubov. Russian classics. Selected literary-critical articles

Series "Literary Monuments"

The publication was prepared by Yu. G. Oksman.

M., "Science", 1970

OCR Bychkov M.N.

Shortly before The Thunderstorm appeared on the stage, we analyzed in great detail all the works of Ostrovsky. Wishing to present a description of the author's talent, we then drew attention to the phenomena of Russian life reproduced in his plays, tried to catch their general character and try to find out whether the meaning of these phenomena is in reality what it appears to us in the works of our playwright. If readers have not forgotten, then we came to the conclusion that Ostrovsky has a deep understanding of Russian life and a great ability to depict sharply and vividly its most essential aspects. 1 The Thunderstorm soon served as new proof of the validity of our conclusion. We wanted to talk about it at the same time, but we felt that in doing so we would have to repeat many of our previous considerations, and therefore decided to keep silent about Groz, leaving readers who asked for our opinion to check on it those general remarks that we spoke about Ostrovsky a few months before the appearance of this play. Our decision was even more confirmed in us when we saw that in connection with the "Thunderstorm" a whole series of large and small reviews appeared in all magazines and newspapers, interpreting the matter from the most diverse points of view. We thought that in this mass of articles, something more would finally be said about Ostrovsky and the significance of his plays than what we saw in the critics, which were mentioned at the beginning of our first article on the "Dark Kingdom" (See "Sovremennik", 1859. No VII.). In this hope, and in the awareness that our own opinion about the meaning and character of Ostrovsky's works has already been expressed quite definitely, we considered it best to leave the analysis of The Thunderstorm.

But now, again meeting Ostrovsky's play in a separate edition and recalling everything that has been written about it, we find that it will not be superfluous on our part to say a few words about it. It gives us occasion to add something to our notes on the "Dark Kingdom", to carry on some of the thoughts that we expressed then, and - by the way - to explain ourselves in short words to some of the critics who have honored us with direct or indirect abuse.

We must do justice to some of the critics: they were able to understand the difference that separates us from them. They reproach us for adopting the bad method of considering the author's work and then, as a result of this consideration, saying what it contains and what that content is. They have a completely different method: they first tell themselves what should be contained in a work (according to their concepts, of course) and to what extent everything that should really be in it (again, according to their concepts). It is clear that with such a difference of views, they look with indignation at our analyzes, which are likened by one of them to "searching for a moral to a fable." But we are very glad that finally the difference is open, and we are ready to withstand any kind of comparison. Yes, if you like, our method of criticism is also like finding a moral conclusion in a fable: the difference, for example, in the application to the criticism of Ostrovsky’s comedies, will only be as great as far as a comedy differs from a fable and as far as human life depicted in comedies is more important and closer to us than the life of donkeys, foxes, reeds and other characters depicted in fables. In any case, it is much better, in our opinion, to analyze the fable and say: “This is what morality it contains, and this morality seems to us good or bad, and this is why,” than to decide from the very beginning: this fable should have such and such morality (for example, respect for parents), and this is how it should be expressed (for example, in the form of a chick that disobeyed its mother and fell out of the nest); but these conditions are not met, the moral is not the same (for example, the negligence of parents about children) or is expressed in the wrong way (for example, in the example of a cuckoo leaving its eggs in other people's nests), then the fable is not good. We have seen this method of criticism more than once in the appendix to Ostrovsky, although, of course, no one will want to admit it, and we will also be blamed, from a sick head on a healthy one, that we are starting to analyze literary works with pre-adopted ideas. and requirements. And meanwhile, what is clearer, didn’t the Slavophiles say: one should portray a Russian person as virtuous and prove that the root of all goodness is life in the old days; in his first plays, Ostrovsky did not observe this, and therefore The Family Picture and His Own People are unworthy of him and are explained only by the fact that he was still imitating Gogol at that time. Didn't the Westerners shout: it is necessary to teach in comedy that superstition is harmful, and Ostrovsky saves one of his heroes from death with the ringing of bells; everyone should be taught that the true good lies in education, and Ostrovsky in his comedy dishonors the educated Vikhorev in front of the ignoramus Borodkin; it is clear that "Don't get into your sleigh" and "Don't live as you like" are bad plays. Didn't the adherents of artistry proclaim: art must serve the eternal and universal requirements of aesthetics, and Ostrovsky, in Profitable Place, reduced art to serving the miserable interests of the moment; therefore, "Profitable Place" is unworthy of art and should be ranked among the accusatory literature! .. And Mr. Nekrasov from Moscow did not say: Bolshov should not arouse sympathy in us, and meanwhile the 4th act of "His People" was written in order to to arouse in us sympathy for Bolshov; therefore, the fourth act is superfluous!..2 And Mr. Pavlov (N. F.) didn’t wriggle, giving the following propositions to be understood: Russian folk life can provide material only for farcical performances; there are no elements in it in order to build something out of it in accordance with the "eternal" requirements of art; it is obvious, therefore, that Ostrovsky, who takes a plot from the life of the common people, is nothing more than a farcical writer...3 And yet another Moscow critic did not draw such conclusions: the drama should present us with a hero imbued with lofty ideas; the heroine of The Storm, on the other hand, is all imbued with mysticism, and therefore unsuitable for drama, for she cannot arouse our sympathy; therefore, "Thunderstorm" has only the meaning of satire, and even then it is not important, and so on and so forth .... 4

Anyone who followed what was written in our country about the Thunderstorm will easily recall a few more similar critics. It cannot be said that all of them were written by people who are completely mentally poor; how to explain the absence of a direct view of things, which strikes the impartial reader in all of them? Without any doubt, it must be attributed to the old critical routine, which remained in many minds from the study of artistic scholasticism in the courses of Koshansky, Ivan Davydov, Chistyakov and Zelenetsky. It is known that, in the opinion of these venerable theoreticians, criticism is an application to a well-known work of general laws set forth in the courses of the same theoreticians: fits the laws - excellent; does not fit - bad. As you can see, it was not badly conceived for the dying old people: as long as such a principle lives in criticism, they can be sure that they will not be considered completely backward, no matter what happens in the literary world. After all, they established the laws of beauty in their textbooks, on the basis of those works in whose beauty they believe; as long as everything new will be judged on the basis of the laws approved by them, as long as only that which is in accordance with them will be elegant and recognized, nothing new will dare to lay claim to its rights; the old people will be right in believing in Karamzin and not recognizing Gogol, as the respectable people thought to be right, who admired the imitators of Racine and scolded Shakespeare as a drunken savage, following Voltaire, or bowed before the "Messiad" and on this basis rejected "Faust". Routiners, even the most mediocre ones, have nothing to fear from criticism, which serves as a passive verification of the immovable rules of stupid schoolchildren - and at the same time, the most gifted writers have nothing to hope for from it if they bring something new and original into art. They must go against all the accusations of "correct" criticism, in spite of it, make a name for themselves, in spite of it, found a school and ensure that some new theoretician begins to think with them when compiling a new code of art. Then the criticism humbly recognizes their merits; and until then, she must be in the position of the unfortunate Neapolitans at the beginning of this September - who, although they know that Garibaldi will not come to them today, tomorrow, nevertheless must recognize Francis as their king until his royal majesty is pleased to leave your capital.

We are surprised how respectable people dare to recognize such an insignificant, such a humiliating role for criticism. Indeed, by limiting it to the application of the “eternal and general” laws of art to particular and temporary phenomena, through this very thing they condemn art to immobility, and give criticism a completely commanding and police significance. And many do it from the bottom of their hearts! One of the authors, about whom we expressed our opinion, somewhat disrespectfully reminded us that a judge's disrespectful treatment of a defendant is a crime. O naive author! How full of the theories of Koshansky and Davydov! He takes quite seriously the vulgar metaphor that criticism is a tribunal before which authors appear as defendants! He probably also takes at face value the opinion that bad poetry is a sin against Apollo and that bad writers are punished by being drowned in the river Lethe! .. Otherwise, how can one not see the difference between a critic and a judge? People are dragged to court on suspicion of a misdemeanor or a crime, and it is up to the judge to decide whether the accused is right or wrong; Is a writer accused of anything when he is criticized? It seems that those times when the occupation of the book business was considered heresy and a crime are long gone. The critic speaks his mind whether he likes or dislikes a thing; and since it is assumed that he is not a windbag, but a reasonable person, he tries to present reasons why he considers one thing good and the other bad. He does not regard his opinion as a decisive verdict binding on all; if we take a comparison from the legal sphere, then he is more a lawyer than a judge. Having adopted a well-known point of view, which seems to him the most fair, he sets out to the readers the details of the case, as he understands it, and tries to inspire them with his conviction in favor or against the author under consideration. It goes without saying that at the same time he can use all the means he finds suitable, so long as they do not distort the essence of the matter: he can bring you to horror or tenderness, to laughter or tears, to force the author to make confessions that are unfavorable to him or to bring him to the point of being impossible to answer. The following result may come from criticism thus executed: the theoreticians, having mastered their textbooks, may nevertheless see whether the analyzed work agrees with their immovable laws, and, playing the role of judges, decide whether the author is right or wrong. But it is known that in open proceedings there are cases when those present in court are far from sympathetic to the decision that the judge pronounces in accordance with such and such articles of the code: the public conscience reveals in these cases a complete discord with the articles of the law. The same thing can happen even more often when discussing literary works: and when the critic-lawyer properly raises the question, groups the facts and throws on them the light of a certain conviction, public opinion, paying no attention to the codes of piitika, will already know what it hold on.

If we look closely at the definition of criticism by "trial" on authors, we will find that it is very reminiscent of the concept that our provincial ladies and ladies associate with the word "criticism" and at which our novelists used to laugh so witty. Even today it is not uncommon to meet such families that look at the writer with some fear, because he "will write criticism on them." The unfortunate provincials, to whom such a thought once wandered into their heads, really represent a pitiful spectacle of the defendants, whose fate depends on the handwriting of the writer's pen. They look into his eyes, embarrassed, apologize, make reservations, as if they were really guilty, awaiting execution or mercy. But it must be said that such naive people are now beginning to emerge in the most remote backwoods. At the same time, just as the right to “dare to have one’s own opinion” ceases to be the property of only a certain rank or position, but becomes available to everyone and everyone, at the same time, more solidity and independence appear in private life, less trembling before any extraneous court. Now they are already expressing their opinion simply because it is better to declare it than to hide it, they express it because they consider it useful to exchange thoughts, recognize for everyone the right to express their views and their demands, finally, they even consider it the duty of everyone to participate in the general movement, communicating their observations. and considerations, which one can afford. From here it is a long way to the role of a judge. If I tell you that you lost your handkerchief along the way, or that you are going in the wrong direction, etc., this does not mean that you are my defendant. In the same way, I will not be your defendant even if you begin to describe me, wishing to give an idea about me to your acquaintances. Entering for the first time into a new society, I know very well that observations are being made on me and opinions are formed about me; but should I therefore imagine myself before some kind of Areopagus - and tremble in advance, awaiting the verdict? Without any doubt, remarks about me will be made: one will find that my nose is large, another - that the beard is red, the third - that the tie is badly tied, the fourth - that I am gloomy, etc. Well, let them notice What do I care about this? After all, my red beard is not a crime, and no one can ask me for an account of how I dare to have such a big nose. So, there’s nothing for me to think about: whether I like my figure or not, this is a matter of taste, and I express my opinion about it. I can't forbid anyone; and on the other hand, it won’t hurt me if my taciturnity is noticed, if I’m really silent. Thus, the first critical work (in our sense) - noticing and pointing out facts - is done quite freely and harmlessly. Then the other work—judgment from facts—continues in exactly the same way to keep the one who judges perfectly on equal footing with the one he is judging. This is because, in expressing his conclusion from known data, a person always subjects himself to judgment and verification of others regarding the justice and soundness of his opinion. If, for example, someone, on the basis of the fact that my tie is not tied quite elegantly, decides that I am ill-bred, then such a judge runs the risk of giving others a not very high concept of his logic. Similarly, if some critic reproaches Ostrovsky for the fact that Katerina's face in The Thunderstorm is disgusting and immoral, then he does not inspire much confidence in the purity of his own moral feeling. Thus, as long as the critic points out the facts, analyzes them and draws his own conclusions, the author is safe and the work itself is safe. Here you can only claim that when the critic distorts the facts, lies. And if he presents the matter correctly, then no matter what tone he speaks, no matter what conclusions he comes to, from his criticism, as from any free and factual reasoning, there will always be more benefit than harm - for the author himself, if he good, and in any case for literature - even if the author turns out to be bad. Criticism - not judicial, but ordinary, as we understand it - is already good in that it gives people who are not accustomed to focusing their thoughts on literature, so to speak, an extract of the writer and thereby facilitates the ability to understand the nature and meaning of his works. And as soon as the writer is properly understood, an opinion about him will not be slow to form and justice will be given to him, without any permission from the respected compilers of the codes.

True, sometimes explaining the character of a well-known author or work, the critic himself can find in the work something that is not in it at all. But in these cases the critic always betrays himself. If he takes it into his head to give the work being analyzed a thought more lively and broad than what is actually put at the foundation of its author, then, obviously, he will not be able to sufficiently confirm his idea by pointing to the work itself, and thus criticism, having shown how it could If a work is analyzed, it will only show more clearly the poverty of its conception and the insufficiency of its execution. As an example of such criticism, one can point, for example, to Belinsky's analysis of "Tarantass", written with the most malicious and subtle irony; this analysis was taken by many at face value, but even these many found that the meaning given to "Tarantas" by Belinsky is very well carried out in his criticism, but with the very composition of Count Sollogub it does not go well6. However, such critical exaggerations are very rare. Much more often, another case is that the critic really does not understand the author being analyzed and deduces from his work something that does not follow at all. So here, too, the trouble is not great: the critic's way of reasoning will now show the reader with whom he is dealing, and if only the facts are present in the criticism, false speculations will not fool the reader. For example, one Mr. P - y, analyzing the "Thunderstorm", decided to follow the same method that we followed in the articles about the "Dark Kingdom", and, having outlined the essence of the content of the play, set to conclusions. It turned out, in his opinion, that Ostrovsky in The Thunderstorm had ridiculed Katerina, wishing to disgrace Russian mysticism in her face. Well, of course, having read such a conclusion, you now see to what category of minds Mr. P - y belongs and whether one can rely on his considerations. Such criticism will not confuse anyone, it is not dangerous to anyone ...

Quite another thing is the criticism that approaches the authors, as if they were peasants brought into the recruiting presence, with a uniform measure, and shouts now “forehead!”, then “back of the head!”, Depending on whether the recruit fits the measure or not. There the reprisal is short and decisive; and if you believe in the eternal laws of art printed in a textbook, then you will not turn away from such criticism. She will prove to you on the fingers that what you admire is no good, and what makes you doze off, yawn or get a migraine, this is the real treasure. Take, for example, though "Thunderstorm": what is it? A daring insult to art, nothing more - and this is very easy to prove. Open the "Readings on Literature" by the honored professor and academician Ivan Davydov, compiled by him with the help of the translation of Blair's lectures, or take a look at Mr. Plaksin's Cadet Literature Course - the conditions for an exemplary drama are clearly defined there. The subject of the drama must certainly be an event where we see the struggle of passion and duty, with the unfortunate consequences of the victory of passion or with happy ones when duty wins. In the development of the drama, strict unity and consistency must be observed; the denouement should flow naturally and necessarily from the tie; each scene must certainly contribute to the movement of the action and move it to a denouement; therefore, there should not be a single person in the play who would not directly and necessarily participate in the development of the drama, there should not be a single conversation that does not relate to the essence of the play. The characters of the characters must be clearly marked, and gradualness must be necessary in their discovery, in accordance with the development of the action. The language must be commensurate with the situation of each person, but not deviate from the purity of the literary and not turn into vulgarity.

Here, it seems, are all the main rules of drama. Let's apply them to the Thunderstorm.

The subject of the drama really represents the struggle in Katerina between a sense of duty of marital fidelity and passion for the young Boris Grigorievich. So the first requirement is found. But then, starting from this demand, we find that the other conditions of exemplary drama are violated in The Thunderstorm in the most cruel way.

And, firstly, The Thunderstorm does not satisfy the most essential internal goal of the drama - to inspire respect for moral duty and show the detrimental consequences of infatuation with passion. Katerina, this immoral, shameless (to use the apt expression of N. F. Pavlov) woman who ran out at night to her lover as soon as her husband left home, this criminal appears to us in the drama not only in a rather gloomy light, but even with some kind of the radiance of martyrdom around the brow. She speaks so well, she suffers so plaintively, everything around her is so bad that you have no indignation against her, you pity her, you arm yourself against her oppressors, and in this way you justify vice in her face. Consequently, the drama does not fulfill its lofty purpose and becomes, if not a harmful example, then at least an idle toy.

Further, from a purely artistic point of view, we also find very important shortcomings. The development of passion is not sufficiently represented: we do not see how Katerina's love for Boris began and intensified and what exactly motivated it; therefore, the very struggle between passion and duty is indicated for us not quite clearly and strongly.

The unity of the impression is also not observed: it is harmed by the admixture of an extraneous element - Katerina's relationship with her mother-in-law. The intervention of the mother-in-law constantly prevents us from focusing our attention on the inner struggle that should be going on in Katerina's soul.

In addition, in Ostrovsky's play we notice a mistake against the first and fundamental rules of any poetic work, unforgivable even for a novice author. This error is specially called in the drama - "duality of intrigue": here we see not one love, but two - Katerina's love for Boris and Varvara's love for Kudryash7. This is good only in light French vaudeville, and not in serious drama, where the attention of the audience should not be entertained in any way.

The plot and denouement also sin against the requirements of art. The plot consists in a simple case - in the departure of the husband; the denouement is also completely accidental and arbitrary: this thunderstorm, which frightened Katerina and forced her to tell her husband everything, is nothing more than a deus ex machina (God from the machine (lat.) - Ed.), No worse than a vaudeville uncle from America.

The whole action is sluggish and slow, because it is cluttered with scenes and faces that are completely unnecessary. Kudryash and Shapkin, Kuligin, Feklusha, the lady with two lackeys, Dikoy himself - all these are persons who are not essentially connected with the basis of the play. Unnecessary faces constantly enter the stage, say things that do not go to the point, and leave, again it is not known why and where. All the recitations of Kuligin, all the antics of Kudryash and Dikiy, not to mention the half-mad lady and the conversations of city dwellers during a thunderstorm, could have been released without any damage to the essence of the matter.

In this crowd of unnecessary faces, we almost do not find strictly defined and finished characters, and there is nothing to ask about the gradualness in their discovery. They appear to us directly ex abrupto (for no apparent reason, suddenly (lat. - Ed.), with labels. The curtain opens: Kudryash and Kuligin talk about what a scolder Dikaya is, after that he is also Dikaya and swears behind the scenes ... Also Kabanova. In the same way, Kudryash from the first word makes himself known that he is "dashing at girls"; and Kuligin, at the very appearance, is recommended as a self-taught mechanic who admires nature. And so they remain with this until the very end: Dikoi swears, Kabanova grumbles, Kudryash walks at night with Varvara ... And we do not see the full comprehensive development of their characters in the whole play. The heroine herself is depicted very unsuccessfully: apparently, the author himself did not quite clearly understand this character, because, without exposing Katerina as a hypocrite, he forces her, however, to utter sensitive monologues, but in fact shows her to us as a shameless woman, carried away by sensuality alone. There is nothing to say about the hero - he is so colorless. Dikoy and Kabanova themselves, the characters most in genre "e (in the genre (French. - Ed.) of Mr. Ostrovsky, represent (according to the happy conclusion of Mr. Akhsharumov or someone else of this kind) 8 a deliberate exaggeration, close to libel, and give us not living faces, but the "quintessence of deformities" of Russian life.

Finally, the language with which the characters speak surpasses all patience of a well-bred person. Of course, merchants and philistines cannot speak in elegant literary language; but after all, one cannot agree that a dramatic author, for the sake of fidelity, can introduce into literature all the vulgar expressions in which the Russian people are so rich. The language of dramatic characters, whoever they may be, may be simple, but always noble and should not offend educated taste. And in "The Thunderstorm" listen to how all the faces say: "Shrill man! Why are you climbing with a snout! It kindles the whole interior! Women can't work up their bodies in any way!" What are these phrases, what are these words? Involuntarily, you will repeat with Lermontov:

From whom do they paint portraits?

Where are these conversations being heard?

And if they did,

So we don't want to listen to them.

Perhaps "in the city of Kalinovo, on the banks of the Volga," there are people who speak in this way, but what do we care about that? The reader understands that we did not use special efforts to make this criticism convincing; that is why it is easy to notice in other places the living threads with which it is sewn. But we assure you that it can be made extremely convincing and victorious, it can be used to destroy the author, once taking the point of view of school textbooks. And if the reader agrees to give us the right to proceed with the play with pre-prepared requirements regarding what and how it should be, we don’t need anything else: everything that is not in accordance with the rules adopted by us, we will be able to destroy. Extracts from the comedy will appear very conscientiously to confirm our judgments; quotations from various learned books, beginning with Aristotle and ending with Fischer, 10 which, as you know, constitute the last, final moment of aesthetic theory, will prove to you the solidity of our education; ease of presentation and wit will help us to captivate your attention, and you, without noticing it, will come to full agreement with us. Only let not for a moment a doubt enter your head in our full right to prescribe duties to the author and then judge him whether he is faithful to these duties or has been guilty of them ...

But herein lies the misfortune that not a single reader can now escape such a doubt. The contemptible crowd, formerly reverently, open-mouthed, listening to our broadcasts, now presents a deplorable and dangerous spectacle for our authority of the masses, armed, in the beautiful expression of Mr. Turgenev, with the "double-edged sword of analysis" 11. Everyone says, reading our thunderous criticism: "You offer us your "storm", assuring us that in "The Thunderstorm" what is there is superfluous, and what is needed is lacking. But the author of "The Thunderstorm" probably seems quite opposite; show us the play, show it as it is, and give us your opinion of it on the basis of itself, and not on some outdated considerations, completely unnecessary and extraneous. it should be; or maybe it fits well in the play, so why shouldn't it?" This is how every reader now dares to resonate, and this insulting circumstance must be attributed to the fact that, for example, N. F. Pavlov's magnificent critical exercises on The Thunderstorm suffered such a decisive fiasco. In fact, everyone rose to the criticism of The Thunderstorm in Nashe Vremya - both writers and the public, and, of course, not because he took it into his head to show a lack of respect for Ostrovsky, but because in his criticism he expressed disrespect to the common sense and good will of the Russian public. Everyone has long seen that Ostrovsky has in many respects moved away from the old stage routine, that in the very conception of each of his plays there are conditions that necessarily carry him beyond the bounds of the well-known theory that we pointed out above. The critic who does not like these deviations should have begun by noting them, characterizing them, generalizing them, and then directly and frankly raising the question between them and the old theory. This was the duty of the critic not only to the author being analyzed, but even more so to the public, which so constantly approves of Ostrovsky, with all his liberties and evasions, and with each new play becomes more and more attached to him. If the critic finds that the public is deluded in their sympathy for an author who turns out to be a criminal against his theory, then he should have begun by defending that theory and by giving serious evidence that deviations from it cannot be good. Then he, perhaps, would have managed to convince some and even many, since N. F. Pavlov cannot be taken away from the fact that he uses the phrase quite adroitly. And now what did he do? He did not pay the slightest attention to the fact that the old laws of art, while continuing to exist in textbooks and taught from gymnasium and university departments, had long since lost their sanctity of inviolability in literature and in the public. He boldly began to break down Ostrovsky on the points of his theory, by force, forcing the reader to consider it inviolable. He found it convenient only to be ironic about the gentleman, who, being Mr. Pavlov's "neighbor and brother" by his place in the first row of seats and by his "fresh" gloves, nevertheless dared to admire the play, which was so disgusting to N. F. Pavlov. Such a contemptuous treatment of the public, and indeed of the very question which the critic took up, naturally must have aroused the majority of readers rather against him than in his favour. Readers let the critics notice that he was spinning with his theory like a squirrel in a wheel, and demanded that he get out of the wheel onto a straight road. Rounded phrase and clever syllogism seemed to them insufficient; they demanded serious confirmations for the very premises from which Mr. Pavlov drew his conclusions and which he presented as axioms. He said: this is bad, because there are many characters in the play that do not contribute to the direct development of the course of action. And they stubbornly objected to him: why can't there be persons in the play who do not directly participate in the development of the drama? The critic assured that the drama is already devoid of meaning because its heroine is immoral; readers stopped him and asked the question: what makes you think that she is immoral? And what are your moral concepts based on? The critic considered vulgarity and smut, unworthy of art, - and the night meeting, and Kudryash's daring whistle, and the very scene of Katerina's confession to her husband; he was again asked: why exactly does he find this vulgar and why secular intrigues and aristocratic passions are more worthy of art than petty-bourgeois passions? Why is the whistling of a young lad more vulgar than the poignant singing of Italian arias by some secular youth? N. F. Pavlov, as the top of his arguments, decided condescendingly that a play like "Thunderstorm" is not a drama, but a farcical performance. And then they answered him: why are you so contemptuous of the booth? Another question is whether any slick drama, even if all three unities were observed in it, is better than any farcical performance. Regarding the role of the booth in the history of the theater and in the development of the people, we will argue with you. The last objection has been developed in some detail in the press. And where was it distributed? It would be nice in "Sovremennik", which, as you know, has a "Whistle" with it, therefore it cannot scandalize with Kudryash's whistle and in general should be inclined to any farce. No, thoughts about the farce were expressed in the "Library for Reading", a well-known champion of all the rights of "art", expressed by Mr. Annenkov, whom no one will reproach for excessive adherence to "vulgarity" 12. If we correctly understood Mr. Annenkov's thought (for which, of course, no one can guarantee), he finds that modern drama with its theory has deviated further from the truth and beauty of life than the original booths, and that in order to revive the theater, it is necessary first to return to the booth and begin again the path of dramatic development. These are the opinions that Mr. Pavlov came across even in respectable representatives of Russian criticism, not to mention those who are accused by well-meaning people of contempt for science and of the denial of everything lofty! It is clear that here it was no longer possible to get away with more or less brilliant remarks, but it was necessary to begin a serious revision of the grounds on which the critic was affirmed in his sentences. But as soon as the question moved to this ground, the critic of Nashe Vremya turned out to be untenable and had to hush up his critical rantings.

Current page: 3 (total book has 6 pages)

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* Utilitarian (from Latin) - applied, highly practical.

But, as we have already said, the natural aspirations of man and sound, simple concepts of things are sometimes distorted in many. As a result of wrong development, it often seems to people quite normal and natural that which in essence constitutes the most absurd violence of nature. With the passage of time, humanity is more and more freed from artificial distortions and approaches natural requirements and views: we no longer see mysterious forces in every forest and lake, in thunder and lightning, in the sun and stars; we no longer have castes and pariahs in educated countries; we do not mix the relations of the two sexes, like the peoples of the East; we do not recognize the class of slaves as an essential part of the state, as was the case with the Greeks and Romans; we renounce the inquisitorial** principles that dominated medieval Europe. If all this is still found today in places, it is only as an exception; the general situation has changed for the better. But still, even now people are far from having come to a clear consciousness of all natural needs and cannot even agree on what is natural for a person and what is not. The general formula - that it is natural for a person to strive for the best - is accepted by everyone; but disagreements arise over what should be considered good for mankind. We believe, for example, that the good is in labor, and therefore we consider labor to be natural for a person; and the Economic Index[*] assures that it is natural for people to be lazy, for the good consists in the use of capital. We think that theft is an artificial form of acquisition, to which a person is sometimes forced by extremes; and Krylov says that this is a natural quality of other people and that -

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* Caste (from Latin caslus - pure) - a closed social group, isolated by the origin and legal status of its members; pariah (from Ind.) - among the Hindus, a person of the lower class, deprived of any rights.

** The Inquisition (from Latin) is the investigative and punitive body of the Catholic Church, which severely persecuted any manifestation of free thought in the advanced circles of society.

Give the thief at least a million
He won't stop stealing.

Meanwhile, Krylov is a famous fabulist, and the "Economic Index" is published by Mr. Vernadsky, a doctor and state adviser: it is impossible to neglect their opinions. What to do here, how to solve? It seems to us that no one can take the final decision here; everyone can consider his opinion as the most just, but the decision in this case more than ever needs to be left to the public. This matter concerns her, and only in her name can we affirm our positions. We say to society: “It seems to us that this is what you are capable of, this is what you feel, this is what you are dissatisfied with, this is what you want.” It is up to society to tell us whether we are wrong or not. Especially in such a case as the analysis of Ostrovsky's comedies, we can directly rely on the general court. We say: “this is what the author depicted; this is what, in our opinion, the images reproduced by him mean; this is their origin, this is the meaning; we find that all this has a vital bearing on your life and manners and explains these needs, the satisfaction of which is necessary for your good. Tell me, who else is to judge the justice of our words, if not to the very society about which we are talking and to which it addresses? His decision should be equally important and final - both for us and for the author being analyzed.

Our author is received very well by the public; this means that one half of the issue is resolved in a positive way: the public recognizes that he correctly understands and portrays her. Another question remains: do we understand Ostrovsky correctly by attributing a certain meaning to his works? Some hope for a favorable answer is given to us, firstly, by the fact that critics opposed to our views were not particularly approved by the public, and, secondly, by the fact that the author himself agrees with us, since in The Thunderstorm we find new confirmation of many of our thoughts about Ostrovsky's talent and the significance of his works. However, once again, our articles and the very foundations on which we affirm our judgments are before everyone's eyes. Whoever does not want to agree with us, reading and verifying our articles according to their observations, can come to their own conclusion. We will be happy with that too.

Now, having explained the grounds for our criticism, we ask readers to excuse us for the length of these explanations. Of course, they could have been presented on two or three pages, but then these pages would not have seen the light of day for a long time. The length comes from the fact that often an endless paraphrase explains what could be denoted simply by one word; but the trouble is that these words, which are very common in other European languages, usually give a Russian article such a form in which it cannot appear before the public. And one has to involuntarily turn over in every possible way with the phrase in order to somehow introduce the reader into the essence of the thought being expressed [*].

But let us turn to our real subject - the author of The Thunderstorm.

x x x

Readers of Sovremennik may remember that we placed Ostrovsky very highly, finding that he was very fully and comprehensively able to portray the essential aspects and demands of Russian life. We are not talking about those authors who took private phenomena, temporary, external demands of society and portrayed them with greater or lesser success, such as the demand for justice, religious tolerance, sound administration, the abolition of farming, the abolition of serfdom, etc. But those writers who took the more inner side of life, limited themselves to a very narrow circle and noticed such phenomena that were far from having a national significance. Such, for example, is the image in countless stories of people who have become superior in development to their environment, but deprived of energy, will and perishing in inaction. These stories were significant, because they clearly expressed the unfitness of the environment, which hinders good activity, and although the vaguely recognized demand for the energetic application in practice of principles that we recognize as truth in theory. Depending on the difference in talents, stories of this kind had more or less significance; but all of them contained the disadvantage that they fell only into a small (comparatively) part of society and had almost nothing to do with the majority. Not to mention the mass of the people, even in the middle strata of our society we see many more people who still need to acquire and understand the correct concepts than those who, with the acquired ideas, do not know where to go. Therefore, the meaning of these short stories and novels remains very special and is felt more for a circle of a certain type than for the majority. One cannot but agree that Ostrovsky’s work is much more fruitful: he captured such general aspirations and needs that permeate the entire Russian society, whose voice is heard in all the phenomena of our life, whose satisfaction is a necessary condition for our further development. We will not now repeat what we talked about in detail in our first articles; but by the way, let us note here the strange bewilderment that occurred regarding our articles in one of the critics of the Thunderstorm - Mr. Apollon Grigoriev. It should be noted that Mr. A. Grigoriev is one of the enthusiastic admirers of Ostrovsky's talent; but - probably from an excess of delight - he never succeeds in expressing with some clarity what exactly he appreciates Ostrovsky for. We read his articles and could not get any sense. Meanwhile, while examining Groza, Mr. Grigoriev devotes several pages to us and accuses us of attaching labels to the faces of Ostrovsky's comedies, dividing them all into two categories: tyrants and downtrodden personalities, and in the development of relations between them, common in merchant life, concluded the whole business of our comedian. Having expressed this accusation, Mr. Grigoriev exclaims that no, this is not the peculiarity and merit of Ostrovsky, but in the nationality. But Mr. Grigoriev does not explain what the nationality consists of, and therefore his remark seemed to us very amusing. As if we did not recognize the nationality of Ostrovsky! Yes, we started with her, continued with her and finished. We were looking for how and to what extent Ostrovsky's works serve as an expression of people's life, people's aspirations: what is this, if not nationality? But we did not shout about it with exclamation marks every two lines, but tried to determine its content, which Mr. Grigoriev never took the trouble to do. And if he had tried this, then perhaps he would have come to the same results that he condemns with us, and would not needlessly accuse us that we conclude the merit of Ostrovsky in a correct depiction of the family relations of merchants living in the old days. Anyone who read our articles could see that we did not mean merchants at all, pointing out the main features of the relations that dominate our life and are so well reproduced in Ostrovsky's comedies. The modern aspirations of Russian life, in the most extensive dimensions, find their expression in Ostrovsky, as a comedian, from the negative side. Drawing to us in a vivid picture false relationships, with all their consequences, he through the same serves as an echo of aspirations that require a better device. Arbitrariness, on the one hand, and a lack of awareness of the rights of one's personality, on the other, are the foundations on which all the disgrace of mutual relations developed in most of Ostrovsky's comedies rests; the demands of law, legality, respect for a person - that's what every attentive reader hears from the depths of this disgrace. Well, will you begin to deny the vast significance of these demands in Russian life? Do you not realize that such a backdrop of comedies corresponds to the state of Russian society more than any other in Europe? Take history, remember your life, look around you - you will find justification for our words everywhere. This is not the place for us to embark on historical research; suffice it to note that our history, until modern times, did not contribute to the development of a sense of legality in us (with which Mr. Pirogov agrees; see the Regulations on Punishments in the Kiev District)[*], did not create strong guarantees for the individual and gave an extensive field to arbitrariness. This kind of historical development, of course, resulted in the decline of public morality: respect for one's own dignity was lost, faith in the right, and consequently the consciousness of duty, weakened, arbitrariness trampled right, cunning was undermined by arbitrariness. Some writers, devoid of a sense of normal needs and bewildered by artificial combinations, while recognizing the known facts of our life, wanted to legitimize them, glorify them as the norm of life, and not as a distortion of natural aspirations produced by unfavorable historical development. So, for example, they wanted to assign arbitrariness to a Russian person as a special, natural quality of his nature - under the name "breadth of nature"; trickery and cunning also wanted to be legitimized among the Russian people under the name of sharpness and cunning. Some critics even wanted to see in Ostrovsky a singer of broad Russian natures; that is why such a frenzy was once raised because of Lyubim Tortsov, above which nothing was found from our author. But Ostrovsky, as a man with a strong talent and, consequently, with a sense of truth, with an instinctive inclination towards natural, sound demands, could not succumb to temptation, and arbitrariness, even the widest, always came out with him, in accordance with reality, heavy, ugly arbitrariness, lawless - and in the essence of the play there was always a protest against him. He knew how to feel what such breadth of nature meant, and branded, defamed her with several types and names of tyranny.

But he did not invent these types, just as he did not invent the word "tyrant". Both he took in his life. It is clear that life, which has provided materials for such comical positions, in which Ostrovsky's petty tyrants are often placed, life, which has given them a decent name, is not already completely absorbed by their influence, but contains the makings of a more reasonable, legal, correct order of affairs. Indeed, after each play by Ostrovsky, everyone feels this consciousness within himself and, looking around himself, notices the same in others. Following this thought more closely, peering into it longer and deeper, you notice that this striving for a new, more natural arrangement of relations contains the essence of everything that we call progress, constitutes the direct task of our development, absorbs all the work of new generations. Wherever you look, everywhere you see the awakening of personality, its presentation of its legal rights, protest against violence and arbitrariness, for the most part still timid, indefinite, ready to hide, but nevertheless already making its existence visible. Take, for example, the legislative and administrative side, which, although in its particular manifestations always has much fortuitous, but in its general character, nevertheless, serves as an indicator of the position of the people. This pointer is especially true when legislative measures are imprinted by the nature of benefits, concessions and expansion of rights. Burdensome measures, restricting the people in their rights, may be brought about, contrary to the demands of the life of the people, simply by the act of arbitrariness, in accordance with the advantages of a privileged minority, which enjoys the oppression of others; but measures by which privileges are diminished and general rights are extended cannot have their origin in anything else than in the direct and unrelenting demands of the life of the people, irresistibly affecting a privileged minority, even in spite of their personal, immediate interests. Take a look at what we are doing in this respect: the peasants are being emancipated, and the landowners themselves, who previously argued that it was too early to give freedom to the peasant, are now convinced and confess that it is time to get rid of this question, that it has really matured in the people's consciousness ... And what But what lies at the basis of this question, if not the reduction of arbitrariness and the elevation of the rights of the human person? It is the same in all other reforms and improvements. In financial reforms, in all these commissions and committees that discussed banks, taxes, etc., what did public opinion see, what was expected of them, if not the definition of a more correct, distinct system of physical administration and, consequently, the introduction of legality instead of any arbitrariness ? What made it necessary to grant certain rights to publicity, which they had previously been so afraid of - what if not the recognition of the strength of that general protest against lack of rights and arbitrariness, which for many years had taken shape in public opinion and finally could not restrain itself? What has been reflected in police and administrative reforms, in concerns about justice, in the assumption of open court proceedings, in the reduction of strictness towards schismatics, in the very abolition of tax farms? it proves the strong development of the general idea to which we pointed out: even if they all collapsed or remained unsuccessful, this could only show the insufficiency or falsity of the means adopted for their implementation, but could not testify against the needs that caused them. The existence of these requirements is so clear that even in our literature they were expressed immediately, as soon as the actual possibility of their manifestation appeared. They also showed up in Ostrovsky's comedies with fullness and force, which we have met with a few authors. But not only in the degree of strength of the dignity of his comedies: it is also important for us that he found the essence of the general requirements of life even at a time when they were hidden and were expressed by very few and very weakly. His first play appeared in 1847; it is known that from that time until recent years, even our best authors almost lost track of the natural aspirations of the people and even began to doubt their existence, and if sometimes they felt their influence, it was very weakly, indefinitely, only in some particular cases and, with a few exceptions, almost never knew how to find a true and decent expression for them. The general situation was, of course, partly reflected in Ostrovsky; it perhaps explains to a large extent the degree of uncertainty in some of his subsequent plays, which gave rise to such attacks on him in the early fifties. But now, carefully considering the totality of his works, we find that the instinct of the true needs and aspirations of Russian life never left him; it was sometimes not shown at first glance, but it was always at the root of his works. On the other hand, anyone who wanted to impartially seek out their fundamental meaning could always find that the point in them is presented not from the surface, but from the very root. This feature keeps Ostrovsky's works at their height even now, when everyone is already trying to express the same aspirations that we find in his plays. In order not to expand on this, we note one thing: the demand for law, respect for the individual, protest against violence and arbitrariness, you find in many of our literary works of recent years; but in them for the most part the matter is not carried out in a vital, practical way, the abstract, philosophical side of the question is felt, and everything is deduced from it, the right is indicated, and the real possibility is left without attention. In Ostrovsky, not only in him you find not only the moral, but also the worldly, economic side of the issue, and this is the essence of the matter. You can clearly see in him how tyranny rests on a thick purse, which is called "God's blessing," and how the unanswerability of people in front of him is determined by material dependence on him. Moreover, you see how this material side in all worldly relations dominates the abstract, and how people deprived of material support little value abstract rights and even lose a clear consciousness of them. In fact, a well-fed person can reason coolly and intelligently whether he should eat such and such a dish, but a hungry person rushes to food, wherever he sees it and whatever it is. This phenomenon, which recurs in all spheres of social life, is well noticed and understood by Ostrovsky, and his plays, more clearly than any reasoning, show the attentive reader how a system of lack of rights and coarse, petty selfishness, established by tyranny, is instilled in those who suffer from it; how they, if they retain the remnants of energy in themselves, try to use it to acquire the opportunity to live independently and no longer understand either the means or the rights. We have developed this theme in too much detail in our previous articles to return to it again; moreover, we, remembering the sides of Ostrovsky's talent, which were repeated in The Thunderstorm, as in his previous works, must nevertheless make a short review of the play itself and show how we understand it.

In fact, this would not be necessary; but the critics hitherto written on Groza show us that our remarks will not be superfluous.

Even in Ostrovsky's previous plays, we noticed that these were not comedies of intrigue and not comedies of characters proper, but something new, to which we would give the name "plays of life" if it were not too extensive and therefore not quite definite. We want to say that in his foreground is always the general environment of life, independent of any of the actors. He does not punish either the villain or the victim; both of them are pathetic to you, often both are ridiculous, but the feeling aroused in you by the play does not directly appeal to them. You see that their position dominates them, and you only blame them for not showing enough energy to get out of this position. The tyrants themselves, against whom your feelings should naturally resent, on closer examination turn out to be more worthy of pity than your anger: they are both virtuous and even smart in their own way, within the limits prescribed for them by routine and supported by their position; but the situation is such that full, healthy human development is impossible in it. We saw this especially in the analysis of Rusakov's character.

Thus, the struggle demanded by theory from the drama takes place in Ostrovsky's plays not in the monologues of the actors, but in the facts dominating them. Often the characters in the comedy themselves have no clear or no consciousness of the meaning of their position and their struggle; but on the other hand, the struggle is very clearly and consciously going on in the soul of the spectator, who involuntarily revolts against the situation that gives rise to such facts. And that is why we do not dare to consider as unnecessary and superfluous those characters in Ostrovsky's plays who do not directly participate in the intrigue. From our point of view, these faces are just as necessary for the play as the main ones: they show us the environment in which the action takes place, they draw the position that determines the meaning of the activity of the main characters of the play. To know well the properties of the life of a plant, it is necessary to study it on the soil in which it grows; uprooted from the soil, you will have the form of a plant, but you will not fully recognize its life. In the same way, you will not recognize the life of society if you consider it only in the direct relations of several persons who for some reason come into conflict with each other: here there will be only the businesslike, official side of life, while we need its everyday atmosphere. Extraneous, inactive participants in the drama of life, each apparently occupied only with their own business, often have such an influence on the course of affairs by their mere existence that nothing can reflect it. How many hot days, how many vast plans, how many enthusiastic impulses collapse at one glance at the indifferent, prosaic crowd, passing us with contemptuous indifference! How many pure and kind feelings freeze in us out of fear, so as not to be ridiculed and scolded by this crowd! And on the other hand, how many crimes, how many outbursts of arbitrariness and violence stop before the decision of this crowd, always seemingly indifferent and pliable, but in essence very uncompromising in what once it is recognized by it. Therefore, it is extremely important for us to know what are the ideas of this crowd about good and evil, what they consider to be true and what is false. This determines our view of the position in which the main characters of the play are, and, consequently, the degree of our participation in them.

In The Thunderstorm, the need for so-called "unnecessary" faces is especially visible: without them, we cannot understand the faces of the heroine and can easily distort the meaning of the whole play, which happened to most of the critics. Perhaps we will be told that after all the author is to blame if he is so easily misunderstood; but we note in response that the author writes for the public, and the public, if not immediately mastering the full essence of his plays, then does not distort their meaning. As for the fact that some of the details could be done better - we do not stand for it. Without a doubt, the gravediggers in Hamlet are more appropriately and more closely connected with the course of action than, for example, the half-mad lady in The Thunderstorm; but we do not interpret that our author is Shakespeare, but only that his extraneous persons have a reason for their appearance and turn out to be even necessary for the completeness of the play, considered as it is, and not in the sense of absolute perfection.

"Thunderstorm", as you know, presents us with an idyll of the "dark kingdom", which little by little illuminates us with Ostrovsky's talent. The people you see here live in blessed places: the city stands on the banks of the Volga, all in greenery; from the steep banks one can see distant spaces covered with villages and fields; a fertile summer day beckons to the shore, to the air, under the open sky, under this breeze blowing refreshingly from the Volga ... And the inhabitants, as if, sometimes walk along the boulevard over the river, although they have already got accustomed to the beauties of the Volga views; in the evening they sit on the rubble at the gate and engage in pious conversations; but they spend more time at home, do housework, eat, sleep - they go to bed very early, so it is difficult for an unaccustomed person to endure such a sleepy night as they ask themselves. But what should they do, how not to sleep when they are full? Their life flows smoothly and peacefully, no interests of the world disturb them, because they do not reach them; kingdoms can collapse, new countries open up, the face of the earth can change as it pleases, the world can start a new life on new principles - the inhabitants of the city of Kalinov will exist for themselves as before in complete ignorance of the rest of the world. From time to time an indefinite rumor will run to them that Napoleon with twenty tongues is rising again or that the Antichrist has been born; but even this they take more as a curious thing, like the news that there are countries where all people have dog heads; they will shake their heads, express surprise at the wonders of nature, and go and have a bite to eat... From their youth they still show some curiosity, but there is nowhere for them to get food: information comes to them, as if in ancient Russia at the time of Daniel the Pilgrim [*], only from wanderers, and even those now a few real ones; one has to be content with those who "themselves, due to their weakness, did not go far, but heard a lot," like Feklusha in "Thunderstorm." From them only the inhabitants of Kalinovo learn about what is happening in the world; otherwise they would think that the whole world is the same as their Kalinov, and that it is absolutely impossible to live otherwise than them. But the information reported by the Feklushs is such that they are not able to inspire a great desire to exchange their life for another. Feklusha belongs to a patriotic and highly conservative party; she feels good among the pious and naive Kalinovites: she is both revered, and treated, and supplied with everything necessary; she can seriously assure that her very sins come from the fact that she is higher than other mortals: “ordinary people,” she says, “everyone is embarrassed by one enemy, but for us, strange people, to whom there are six, to whom twelve are assigned, that’s it. overcome them all." And they believe her. It is clear that the simple instinct of self-preservation should make her not say a good word about what is being done in other lands. And in fact, listen to the conversations of the merchants, the bourgeoisie, petty bureaucrats in the district wilderness - how many amazing information about the unfaithful and filthy kingdoms, how many stories about those times when people were burned and tortured, when robbers robbed cities, etc. , and how little information about European life, about the best way of life! Even in the so-called educated society, in the Europeanized people, in the multitude of enthusiasts who admired the new Parisian streets and the Mabil, don't you find almost the same number of respectable connoisseurs who intimidate their listeners with the fact that nowhere but Austria, in all Europe, is there any order? and no justice can be found! .. All this leads to the fact that Feklusha expresses so positively: “bla-alepie, dear, bla-alepie, marvelous beauty! What can I say, you live in the promised land!” It certainly goes like that, how to figure out what is being done in other lands. Listen to Feklusha:

They say there are such countries, dear girl, where there are no kings

Orthodox, and the Saltans rule the earth. In one land sits on

on the throne, Saltan Mahnut is Turkish, and on the other, Saltan Mahnut

Persian; and they do justice, dear girl, over all people, and

whatever they judge is wrong. And they can't, dear girl,

not a single case to judge righteously - such a limit is set for them. At

we have a righteous law, but they, dear, have an unrighteous one, which is according to our

the law goes that way, but according to theirs everything is the other way around. And all the judges they have, in

their countries, also all unrighteous, so to them, dear girl, and in

requests write: "Judge me, unjust judge!" And then there is

land where all the people with dog heads.

Shortly before the Thunderstorm appeared on the stage, we analyzed in great detail all the works of Ostrovsky. Wishing to present a description of the author's talent, we then drew attention to the phenomena of Russian life reproduced in his plays, tried to catch their general character and try to find out whether the meaning of these phenomena is in reality what it appears to us in the works of our playwright. If readers have not forgotten, then we have come to the conclusion that Ostrovsky has a deep understanding of Russian life and a great ability to depict sharply and vividly its most essential aspects. "The Thunderstorm" soon served as a new proof of the validity of our conclusion. We wanted to talk about it at the same time, but we felt that in doing so we would have to repeat many of our previous considerations, and therefore decided to keep silent about Groz, leaving readers who asked for our opinion to believe on it those general remarks that we spoke about Ostrovsky a few months before the appearance of this play. Our decision was even more confirmed in us when we saw that a whole series of large and small reviews appear in all magazines and newspapers about the Thunderstorm, interpreting the matter from the most diverse points of view. We thought that in this mass of articles, something more would finally be said about Ostrovsky and the significance of his plays than what we saw in the critics, which were mentioned at the beginning of our first article on The Dark Kingdom. In this hope, and in the awareness that our own opinion about the meaning and character of Ostrovsky's works has already been expressed quite definitely, we considered it best to leave the analysis of The Thunderstorm. But now, when we encounter Ostrovsky's play again in a separate edition and recalling everything that has been written about it, we find that it would not be superfluous on our part to say a few words about it. It gives us a reason to add something to our notes on the "Dark Kingdom", to carry out further some of the thoughts that we expressed then. The modern aspirations of Russian life, in the most extensive dimensions, find their expression in Ostrovsky, as a comedian, from the negative side. Drawing to us in a vivid picture false relationships, with all their consequences, he through the same serves as an echo of aspirations that require a better device. Arbitrariness, on the one hand, and a lack of awareness of the rights of one's personality, on the other, are the foundations on which all the disgrace of mutual relations developed in most of Ostrovsky's comedies rests; the demands of law, legality, respect for a person - that's what every attentive reader hears from the depths of this disgrace. Well, will you begin to deny the vast significance of these demands in Russian life? Do you not realize that such a backdrop of comedies corresponds to the state of Russian society more than any other in Europe? Take history, remember your life, look around you - you will find justification for our words everywhere. This is not the place for us to embark on historical research; suffice it to note that our history, until recent times, did not contribute to the development of a sense of legality in us (with which Mr. Pirogov agrees; see the Regulations on Punishments in the Kiev District), did not create strong guarantees for the individual and gave an extensive field to arbitrariness. This kind of historical development, of course, resulted in the decline of public morality: respect for one's own dignity was lost, faith in the right, and consequently the consciousness of duty, weakened, arbitrariness trampled right, cunning was undermined by arbitrariness. Some writers, devoid of a sense of normal needs and bewildered by artificial combinations, while recognizing the known facts of our life, wanted to legitimize them, glorify them as the norm of life, and not as a distortion of natural aspirations produced by unfavorable historical development. So, for example, they wanted to assign arbitrariness to a Russian person as a special, natural quality of his nature - under the name "breadth of nature"; trickery and cunning also wanted to be legitimized among the Russian people under the name of sharpness and cunning. Some critics even wanted to see in Ostrovsky a singer of broad Russian natures; that is why such a frenzy was once raised because of Lyubim Tortsov, above which nothing was found from our author. But Ostrovsky, as a man with a strong talent and, consequently, with a sense of truth, with an instinctive inclination towards natural, sound demands, could not succumb to temptation, and arbitrariness, even the widest, always came out with him, in accordance with reality, heavy, ugly arbitrariness, lawless - and in the essence of the play there was always a protest against him. He knew how to feel what such breadth of nature meant, and branded, defamed her with several types and names of tyranny. But he did not invent these types, just as he did not invent the word "tyrant". Both he took in life itself. It is clear that life, which provided the materials for such comical positions, in which Ostrovsky's petty tyrants are often placed, the life that gave them a decent name, is not already completely absorbed by their influence, but contains the makings of a more reasonable, legitimate, correct order of affairs. And indeed, after each play by Ostrovsky, everyone feels this consciousness within himself and, looking around himself, notices the same in others. Following this thought more closely, peering into it longer and deeper, you notice that this striving for a new, more natural arrangement of relations contains the essence of everything that we call progress, constitutes the direct task of our development, absorbs all the work of new generations. Wherever you look, everywhere you see the awakening of the personality, its presentation of its legal rights, its protest against violence and arbitrariness, for the most part still timid, indefinite, ready to hide, but nevertheless already making its existence visible. Take, for example, the legislative and administrative side, which, although in its particular manifestations always has much fortuitous, but in its general character nevertheless serves as an indicator of the position of the people. This pointer is especially true when legislative measures are imprinted by the nature of benefits, concessions and expansion of rights. Burdensome measures, restricting the people in their rights, may be brought about, contrary to the demands of the life of the people, simply by the act of arbitrariness, in accordance with the advantages of a privileged minority, which enjoys the oppression of others; but measures by which privileges are diminished and general rights are extended cannot have their origin in anything else than in the direct and unrelenting demands of the life of the people, irresistibly affecting a privileged minority, even in spite of their personal, immediate interests. Take a look at what we are doing in this respect: the peasants are being emancipated, and the landowners themselves, who previously argued that it was too early to give freedom to the peasant, are now convinced and confess that it is time to get rid of this question, that it has really matured in the minds of the people... And what else lies at the basis of this question, if not the reduction of arbitrariness and the elevation of the rights of the human person? It is the same in all other reforms and improvements. In financial reforms, in all these commissions and committees that talked about banks, taxes, etc., what did public opinion see, what was expected of them, if not more correctly, a distinct system of financial management and, consequently, the introduction of legality instead of any arbitrariness ? What made it necessary to grant certain rights to publicity, which had previously been so feared - what, if not the recognition of the strength of that general protest against lack of rights and arbitrariness, which for many years had taken shape in public opinion and finally could not restrain itself? What has been reflected in police and administrative reforms, in concerns about justice, in the assumption of open court proceedings, in the reduction of strictness towards schismatics, in the very abolition of tax farms? it proves the strong development of the general idea to which we pointed out: even if they all collapsed or remained unsuccessful, this could only show the insufficiency or falsity of the means adopted for their implementation, but could not testify against the needs that caused them. The existence of these requirements is so clear that even in our literature they were expressed immediately, as soon as the actual possibility of their manifestation appeared. They also made themselves felt in Ostrovsky's comedies with a fullness and force that we have seen from a few authors. But the dignity of his comedies is not only in the degree of strength: it is also important for us that he found the essence of the general requirements of life even at a time when they were hidden and were expressed by very few and very weakly. His first play appeared in 1847; it is known that from that time until recent years, even our best authors almost lost track of the natural aspirations of the people and even began to doubt their existence, and if sometimes they felt their influence, it was very weakly, indefinitely, only in some particular cases and, with a few exceptions, they almost never knew how to find a true and decent expression for them. The general situation was, of course, partly reflected in Ostrovsky; it perhaps explains to a large extent the degree of uncertainty in some of his subsequent plays, which gave rise to such attacks on him in the early fifties. But now, carefully considering the totality of his works, we find that the instinct of the true needs and aspirations of Russian life never left him; it was sometimes not shown at first glance, but was always at the root of his works. On the other hand, anyone who wanted to impartially seek out their fundamental meaning could always find that the point in them is presented not from the surface, but from the very root. This feature keeps Ostrovsky's works at their height even now, when everyone is already trying to express the same aspirations that we find in his plays. In order not to expand on this, we note one thing: the demand for law, respect for the individual, protest against violence and arbitrariness, you find in many of our literary works of recent years; but in them, for the most part, the matter is not carried out in a vital, practical way, the abstract, philosophical side of the issue is felt, and everything is deduced from it, it is indicated right, but the real possibility. Ostrovsky is not the same: in him you find not only the moral, but also the worldly, economic side of the issue, and this is the essence of the matter. You can clearly see in him how tyranny rests on a thick purse, which is called "God's blessing," and how the unanswerability of people in front of him is determined by material dependence on him. Moreover, you see how this material side in all worldly relations dominates the abstract, and how people deprived of material support little value abstract rights and even lose a clear consciousness of them. In fact, a well-fed person can reason coolly and intelligently whether he should eat such and such a dish, but a hungry person rushes to food, wherever he sees it and whatever it may be. This phenomenon, recurring in all spheres of public life, is well noticed and understood by Ostrovsky, and his plays, more clearly than any reasoning, show the attentive reader how a system of lack of rights and coarse, petty selfishness, established by tyranny, is instilled in those who suffer from it; how they, if they retain the remnants of energy in themselves, try to use it to acquire the opportunity to live independently and no longer understand either the means or the rights. We have developed this theme in too much detail in our previous articles to return to it again; moreover, we, remembering the sides of Ostrovsky's talent, which were repeated in The Thunderstorm, as in his previous works, must nevertheless make a short review of the play itself and show how we understand it. In fact, this would not be necessary; but the critics hitherto written on Groza show us that our remarks will not superfluous . Even in Ostrovsky's previous plays, we noticed that these were not comedies of intrigue and not really comedies of characters, but something new, to which we would give the name "plays of life" if it were not too extensive and therefore not quite definite. We want to say that in his foreground is always the general environment of life, independent of any of the actors. He does not punish either the villain or the victim; both of them are pathetic to you, often both are ridiculous, but the feeling aroused in you by the play does not directly appeal to them. You see that their position dominates them, and you only blame them for not showing enough energy to get out of this position. The tyrants themselves, against whom your feelings should naturally resent, on closer examination turn out to be more worthy of pity than your anger: they are both virtuous and even smart in their own way, within the limits prescribed for them by routine and supported by their position; but this situation is such that full, healthy human development is impossible in it ... Thus, the struggle that theory demands from drama is carried out in Ostrovsky's plays not in the monologues of the characters, but in the facts that dominate them. Often the characters in the comedy themselves have no clear or no consciousness of the meaning of their position and their struggle; but on the other hand, the struggle is very clearly and consciously carried out in the soul of the spectator, who involuntarily revolts against the situation that gives rise to such facts. And that is why we do not dare to consider as unnecessary and superfluous those characters in Ostrovsky's plays who do not directly participate in the intrigue. From our point of view, these faces are just as necessary for the play as the main ones: they show us the environment in which the action takes place, they draw the position that determines the meaning of the activity of the main characters of the play. In order to know well the properties of the life of a plant, it is necessary to study it on the soil in which it grows; uprooted from the soil, you will have the form of a plant, but you will not fully recognize its life. In the same way, you will not recognize the life of society if you consider it only in the direct relations of several persons who for some reason come into conflict with each other: here there will be only the businesslike, official side of life, while we need its everyday atmosphere. Extraneous, inactive participants in the drama of life, each apparently occupied only with their own business, often have such an influence on the course of affairs by their mere existence that nothing can reflect it. How many hot ideas, how many vast plans, how many enthusiastic impulses collapse at one glance at the indifferent, prosaic crowd, passing us with contemptuous indifference! How many pure and kind feelings freeze in us out of fear, so as not to be ridiculed and scolded by this crowd! And on the other hand, how many crimes, how many outbursts of arbitrariness and violence stop before the decision of this crowd, always seemingly indifferent and pliable, but in essence very uncompromising in what once it is recognized by it. Therefore, it is extremely important for us to know what are the ideas of this crowd about good and evil, what they consider to be true and what is false. This determines our view of the position in which the main characters of the play are, and, consequently, the degree of our participation in them. The Thunderstorm, as you know, presents us with the idyll of the "dark kingdom", which little by little illuminates us with Ostrovsky's talent. The people you see here live in blessed places: the city stands on the banks of the Volga, all in greenery; from the steep banks one can see distant spaces covered with villages and fields; a fertile summer day beckons to the shore, to the air, under the open sky, under this breeze blowing refreshingly from the Volga ... And the inhabitants, as if, sometimes walk along the boulevard over the river, although they have already looked at the beauties of the Volga views; in the evening they sit on the rubble at the gate and engage in pious conversations; but they spend more time at home, do housework, eat, sleep - they go to bed very early, so it is difficult for an unaccustomed person to endure such a sleepy night as they ask themselves. But what should they do, how not to sleep when they are full? Their life flows smoothly and peacefully, no interests of the world disturb them, because they do not reach them; kingdoms can collapse, new countries open up, the face of the earth can change as it pleases, the world can start a new life on new principles - the inhabitants of the town of Kalinov will continue to exist in complete ignorance of the rest of the world. From time to time an indefinite rumor will run to them that Napoleon with two or ten tongues is rising again or that the Antichrist has been born; but even this they take more as a curious thing, like the news that there are countries where all people have dog heads; they will shake their heads, express surprise at the wonders of nature and go to have a bite to eat ... From their youth they still show some curiosity, but there is nowhere for her to get food: information comes to them, as if in ancient Russia from the time of Daniel the Pilgrim, only from wanderers, and even those are now few real something; one has to be content with those who "themselves, due to their weakness, did not go far, but heard a lot," like Feklusha in The Thunderstorm. From them only the inhabitants of Kalinovo learn about what is happening in the world; otherwise they would think that the whole world is the same as their Kalinov, and that it is absolutely impossible to live otherwise than them. But the information reported by the Feklushs is such that they are not able to inspire a great desire to exchange their life for another. Feklusha belongs to a patriotic and highly conservative party; she feels good among the pious and naive Kalinovites: she is both revered, and treated, and supplied with everything necessary; she can seriously assure that her very sins come from the fact that she is higher than other mortals: “ordinary people,” she says, “everyone is embarrassed by one enemy, but for us, strange people, to whom there are six, to whom twelve are assigned, that’s it. overcome them all." And they believe her. It is clear that the simple instinct of self-preservation should make her not say a good word about what is being done in other lands. And in fact, listen to the conversations of the merchants, the bourgeoisie, petty bureaucrats in the wilderness of the county - how many amazing information about the unfaithful and filthy kingdoms, how many stories about those times when people were burned and tortured, when robbers robbed cities, etc. , and how little information about European life, about the best way of life! Even in the so-called educated society, in the Europeanized people, in the multitude of enthusiasts who admired the new Parisian streets and the Mabil, don't you find almost the same number of respectable connoisseurs who intimidate their listeners with the fact that nowhere but Austria, in all Europe, is there any order? and no justice can be found! .. All this leads to the fact that Feklusha expresses so positively: “bla-alepie, dear, bla-alepie, wondrous beauty! What can I say - you live in the promised land! It certainly goes like that, how to figure out what is being done in other lands. Listen to Feklusha: “They say there are such countries, dear girl, where there are no Orthodox tsars, and the Saltans rule the earth. In one land, the Turkish Saltan Mahnut sits on the throne, and in the other, the Persian Saltan Mahnut; and they do justice, dear girl, over all people, and whatever they judge, everything is wrong. And they, dear girl, cannot judge a single matter righteously - such a limit has been set for them. We have a righteous law, and they, my dear, are unrighteous; that according to our law it turns out that way, but according to theirs everything is the other way around. And all their judges, in their countries, are also all unrighteous; so to them, dear girl, and in requests they write: “Judge me, unjust judge! » And then there is the land where all the people with dog heads. “Why is it so with the dogs?” - asks Glasha. “For infidelity,” Feklusha answers shortly, considering any further explanations unnecessary. But Glasha is glad for that too; in the languid monotony of her life and thoughts, she is pleased to hear something new and original. In her soul, the thought is already vaguely awakening, “that, however, people live and not like us; it is certainly better with us, but by the way, who knows! After all, we are not well; but about those lands we still do not know well; you will only hear something from good people”... And the desire to know more and more solidly creeps into the soul. This is clear to us from the words of Glasha on the departure of the wanderer: “Here are some other lands! There are no miracles in the world! And we're sitting here, we don't know anything. It's also good that there are good people; no, no, and you will hear what is happening in the wide world; otherwise they would have died like fools. As you can see, the unrighteousness and unfaithfulness of foreign lands does not arouse horror and indignation in Glasha; she is only interested in new information, which seems to her something mysterious - "miracles", as she puts it. You see that she is not satisfied with Feklusha's explanations, which only arouse in her regret for her ignorance. She is obviously halfway to skepticism. But where can she keep her distrust when it is constantly undermined by stories like Feklushin's? How can she arrive at correct concepts, even just reasonable questions, when her curiosity is locked up in such a circle, which is outlined around her in the city of Kalinovo? Moreover, how could she dare not to believe and to inquire when older and better people are so positively reassured in the conviction that the concepts and way of life they have adopted are the best in the world and that everything new comes from evil spirits? It is terrible and difficult for every newcomer to attempt to go against the requirements and convictions of this dark mass, terrible in its naivety and sincerity. After all, she will curse us, she will run around like those with the plague - not out of malice, not out of calculations, but out of a deep conviction that we are akin to the Antichrist; it’s still good if she only considers them crazy and laughs at her ... She seeks knowledge, loves to reason, but only within certain limits, prescribed to her by the basic concepts in which the mind gets confused. You can communicate some geographical knowledge to the Kalinov residents; but do not concern yourself with the fact that the earth stands on three whales and that there is the navel of the earth in Jerusalem - they will not yield to you, although they have the same clear conception of the navel of the earth as they have of Lithuania in The Thunderstorm. “This, my brother, what is it?” - one civilian asks another, pointing to the picture. “And this is a Lithuanian ruin,” he replies. - Battle! see! How ours fought with Lithuania. - "What is this Lithuania?" - "So she is Lithuania," the explainer replies. “And they say, my brother, she fell on us from the sky,” continues the first; but it is not enough for his interlocutor to have such a need: “well, p. the sky so from the sky, ”he answers ... Then the woman intervenes in the conversation:“ talk more! Everyone knows that from the sky; and where there was a battle with her, mounds were poured there for memory. - “What, my brother! It's so true!" - exclaims the questioner, quite satisfied. And after that ask him what he thinks about Lithuania! All the questions asked here by natural curiosity have a similar outcome. And this is not at all because these people were more stupid and stupid than many others whom we meet in academies and learned societies. No, the whole point is that by their position, by their life under the yoke of arbitrariness, they have all been accustomed to see lack of accountability and senselessness and therefore find it awkward and even daring to persistently seek out reasonable grounds for anything. To ask a question - there will be more of them; but if the answer is such that "the gun itself, and the mortar itself," then they no longer dare to torture further and are humbly content with this explanation. The secret of such indifference to logic lies primarily in the absence of any logic in life relationships. The key to this mystery is given to us, for example, by the following line of Diky in The Thunderstorm. Kuligin, in response to his rudeness, says: “Why, sir Savel Prokofich, would you like to offend an honest man?” Wild replies this: A report, or something, I will give you! I don't report to anyone more important than you. I want to think about you like that, I think so! For others, you are an honest person, but I think that you are a robber - that's all. Would you like to hear it from me? So listen! I say that the robber, and the end. What are you going to sue, or what, will you be with me? So know that you are a worm. If I want - I'll have mercy, if I want - I'll crush. What theoretical reasoning can stand there. where life is based on such principles! The absence of any law, any logic - that is the law and the logic of this life... One cannot help but stop resonating here, when the fist responds to every reason, and in the end the fist always remains right... But - a wonderful thing! - in their indisputable, irresponsible dark dominion, giving complete freedom to their whims, putting all sorts of laws and logic into nothing, the tyrants of Russian life, however, begin to feel some kind of discontent and fear, without knowing what and why. Everything seems to be as before, everything is fine: Dikoy scolds whomever he wants; when they say to him: “how can no one in the whole house please you!” - he smugly answers; "Here you go!" Kabanova still keeps her children in fear, forces her daughter-in-law to observe all the etiquette of antiquity, eats her like rusty iron, considers herself completely infallible and is pleased by various Feklushas. And everything is somehow restless, not good for them. In addition to them, do not ask them, another life has grown up, with other beginnings, and although it is far away, it is still not clearly visible, but it already gives itself a presentiment and sends bad visions to the dark arbitrariness of tyrants. They are fiercely looking for their enemy, ready to attack the most innocent, some Kuligin; but there is neither an enemy nor a guilty person whom they could destroy: the law of time, the law of nature and history takes its toll, and the old Kabanovs breathe heavily, feeling that there is a power higher than them, which they cannot overcome, which they cannot even approach know how. They do not want to give in (and no one for the time being demands concessions from them), but shrink, shrink; before they wanted to establish their system of life, forever indestructible, and now they are also trying to preach; but already hope is betraying them, and they, in essence, are only busy with how it would be in their lifetime ... Kabanova talks about the fact that "the last times are coming," and when Feklusha tells her about the various horrors of the present time - about railways, etc., - she prophetically remarks: "and it will be worse, dear." “We just don’t live to see it,” Feklusha replies with a sigh. “Maybe we will live,” Kabanova says again fatalistically, revealing her doubts and uncertainty. Why is she worried? People travel by railroads - but what does it matter to her? But you see: she, “even though you are all scree of gold,” will not go according to the devil’s invention; and the people travel more and more, ignoring her curses; Isn't that sad, isn't it a testament to her impotence? People have found out about electricity - it seems that there is something offensive for the Wild and Kabanovs? But, you see, Dikoi says that "a thunderstorm is sent to us as a punishment, so that we feel," but Kuligin does not feel, or feels not at all, and talks about electricity. Isn't this self-will, not a disregard for the power and importance of the Wild One? They don’t want to believe what he believes, which means they don’t believe him either, they consider themselves smarter than him; think about what it will lead to? It is not for nothing that Kabanova remarks about Kuligin: “The time has come, what teachers have appeared! If the old man talks like that, what can you demand from the young! And Kabanova is very seriously upset by the future of the old order, with which she has outlived a century. She foresees their end, tries to maintain their significance, but already feels that there is no former reverence for them, that they are no longer willingly preserved, only involuntarily, and that at the first opportunity they will be abandoned. She herself somehow lost part of her chivalrous genre; she no longer takes care of the observance of old customs with her former energy, in many cases she has already waved her hand, drooped before the impossibility of stopping the stream, and only looks with despair as it gradually floods the motley flower beds of her whimsical superstitions. Just like the last pagans before the power of Christianity, the offspring of tyrants, caught in the course of a new life, droop and are erased. They do not even have the determination to come out in a direct, open struggle; they only try somehow to deceive the time and overflow in fruitless complaints against the new movement. These complaints were always heard from the old people, because new generations always brought something new into life, contrary to the old order; but now the complaints of the petty tyrants are taking on a particularly gloomy, funeral tone. Kabanova is consoled only by the fact that somehow, with her help, the old order will stand until her death; and there - let it be anything - she will not see. Seeing her son on the road, she notices that everything is not being done as it should be for her: her son does not even bow at her feet - it is necessary to demand this from him, but he himself did not guess; and he does not “order” his wife how to live without him, and he does not know how to order, and at parting does not require her to bow to the ground; and the daughter-in-law, after seeing off her husband, does not howl and does not lie on the porch to show her love. If possible, Kabanova tries to restore order, but she already feels that it is impossible to conduct business completely in the old way; for example, regarding howling on the porch, she already only notices her daughter-in-law in the form of advice, but does not dare to urgently demand ... But seeing off her son inspires her with such sad reflections: What does youth mean. It's funny to even look at them. If not my own, I would have laughed to my heart's content. They know nothing, no order. They don't know how to say goodbye. It's good who else has elders in the house, - they keep the house while they are alive. But, too, stupid, they want to their will; but when they go free, they get mixed up to shame, to the laughter of good people. Of course, who will regret it, but most of all laugh. Yes, it’s impossible not to laugh: they’ll invite guests - they don’t know how to plant, and even, look, they will forget one of their relatives. Laughter, and nothing more. So here's the old one and displayed. I don't want to go to another house. And if you go up, then you will spit and get out as soon as possible. What will happen, how the old people will die, how the light will stand, I don’t know. Well, at least it's good that I won't see anything . Until the old people die, until then the young ones have time to grow old - on this account the old woman could not worry. But, you see, it is not important for her, in fact, that there is always someone to look after the order and teach the inexperienced; it needs that precisely those orders should always be inviolably preserved, precisely those concepts that it recognizes as good remain inviolable. In the narrowness and rudeness of her egoism, she cannot even rise to the point of reconciling herself at the triumph of principle, even with the sacrifice of existing forms; indeed, this cannot be expected of her, since she, in fact, has no principle, no general conviction that would govern her life. In this case, she is much lower than the sort of people who are usually called enlightened conservatives. They have somewhat expanded their egoism by merging with it the demand for general order, so that, in order to preserve order, they are even capable of sacrificing some personal tastes and benefits. In the place of Kabanova, for example, they would not make ugly and humiliating demands of bowing to the ground and insulting “mandates” from a husband to his wife, but would only care about preserving the general idea that a wife should be afraid of her husband and submit to her mother-in-law. The daughter-in-law would not have experienced such difficult scenes, although she would have been completely dependent on the old woman in the same way. And the result would be that, no matter how bad the young woman was, her patience would last incomparably longer, being experienced by slow and even oppression, than when it burst out with sharp and cruel antics. From this it is clear, of course, that for Kabanova herself and for the antiquity she defends, it would be much more profitable to abandon some empty forms and make private concessions in order to keep the essence of the matter. But the Kabanov breed does not understand this: they have not even gone so far as to represent or defend any principle outside themselves - they themselves are a principle, and therefore they recognize everything that concerns them as absolutely important. They need not only to be respected, but that this respect be expressed precisely in certain forms: what a degree they stand! That is why, of course, the appearance of everything on which their influence extends preserves antiquities more and seems more immovable than where people, having abandoned tyranny, are already trying only to preserve the essence of their interests and significance; but in fact, the inner significance of petty tyrants is much closer to its end than the influence of people who know how to support themselves and their principle by external concessions. That is why Kabanova is so sad, and that is why Dikoya is so furious: until the last moment they did not want to shorten their broad manners and now they are in the position of a rich merchant on the eve of bankruptcy. Everything is still with him, and he sets the holiday today, and he decided on a million-dollar turnover in the morning, and the credit has not yet been undermined; but some dark rumors are already circulating that he does not have cash capital, that his scams are unreliable, and tomorrow several creditors intend to present their claims; there is no money, there will be no delay, and the whole building of the charlatan specter of wealth will be overturned tomorrow. Things are bad... Of course, in such cases, the merchant directs all his concern to tricking his creditors and making them believe in his wealth: just as the Kabanovs and Dikiye are now busying themselves with only continuing faith in their strength. They do not expect to improve their affairs; but they know that their self-will will still have enough scope as long as everyone will be shy before them; and that is why they are so stubborn, so arrogant, so formidable even in their last moments, of which there are already few left to them, as they themselves feel. The less they feel real power, the more they are struck by the influence of free, common sense, which proves to them that they are deprived of any rational support, the more impudently and madly they deny all the demands of reason, putting themselves and their own arbitrariness in their place. The naivety with which Dikoy says to Kuligin: “I want to consider you a swindler, and I think so; and I don’t care that you are an honest person, and I don’t give an account to anyone why I think so, ”this naivete could not have expressed itself in all its self-foolish absurdity if Kuligin had not called her out with a modest request:“ why Do you offend an honest man?..” Dikoi wants, you see, from the very first time to cut off any attempt to demand an account from him, he wants to show that he is above not only accountability, but also ordinary human logic. It seems to him that if he recognizes over himself the laws of common sense common to all people, then his importance will suffer greatly from this. And indeed, in most cases, this is indeed the case, because his claims are contrary to common sense. Hence, eternal discontent and irritability develop in him. He himself explains his situation when he talks about how hard it is for him to give out money. “What will you tell me to do when my heart is like that! After all, I already know what I need to give, but I can’t do everything with good. You are my friend, and I must give it back to you, but if you come and ask me, I will scold you. I will give - I will give, but I will scold. Therefore, just give me a hint about money, my whole interior will be kindled; kindles the whole interior, and only ... Well, in those days I would never scold a person for anything. The return of money, as a material and visual fact, even in the mind of the Wild awakens some reflection: he realizes how absurd he is, and shifts the blame on "what kind of heart he has"! In other cases, he is not even well aware of his absurdity; but by the nature of his character, he must certainly feel the same irritation at every triumph of common sense as when he has to give money. This is why it is hard for him to pay: out of natural egoism, he wants to feel good; everything around him convinces him that this good thing comes with money; hence the direct attachment to money. But here his development stops, his egoism remains within the limits of an individual and does not want to know its relationship to society, to its neighbors. He needs more money - he knows this, and therefore he would only want to receive it, and not give it away. When, in the natural course of affairs, it comes to bestowal, he becomes angry and swears: he accepts this as a misfortune, a punishment, like a fire, a flood, a fine, and not as a proper, legal retribution for what others do for him. So it is in everything: at the desire for good for himself, he wants space, independence; but does not want to know the law that determines the acquisition and use of all rights in society. He only wants more, as many rights as possible for himself; when it is necessary to recognize them for others, he considers this an infringement on his personal dignity, and becomes angry, and tries in every possible way to delay the matter and prevent it. Even when he knows that he must certainly give in, and he will give in later, but still he will try to play a dirty trick first. “I will give - I will give, but I will scold!” And it must be assumed that the more significant the issuance of money and the more urgent the need for it, the more strongly Dikoy swears ... them, would have retreated from the money and thought that it was impossible to get it, he would have acted very stupidly; secondly, that it would be in vain to hope for Diky's correction by means of some kind of admonishment: the habit of fooling around is already so strong in him that he obeys it even contrary to the voice of his own common sense. It is clear that no reasonable convictions will stop him until an external force that is tangible for him is connected with them: he scolds Kuligin, not heeding any reasons; and when a hussar once scolded him on a ferry, on the Volga, he did not dare to contact the hussar, but again he took out his insult at home: for two weeks after that everyone hid from him in attics and closets ... All such relations make you feel that the position of the Wild, the Kabanovs and all the petty tyrants like them is far from being as calm and firm as it once was, in the blessed times of patriarchal mores. Then, according to the legends of old people, Dikoy could hold on, in his arrogant whimsy, not by force, but by universal consent. He fooled around, not thinking of meeting opposition, and did not meet him: everything around him was imbued with one thought, one desire - to please him; no one imagined any other purpose of his existence than the fulfillment of his whims. The more a parasite went mad, the more insolently he violated the rights of mankind, the more pleased were those who fed him with their labor and whom he made victims of his fantasies. The reverent stories of old lackeys about how their noble bars persecuted small landowners, abused other people's wives and innocent girls, flogged officials sent to them in the stable, etc., stories of military historians about the greatness of some Napoleon who fearlessly sacrificed hundreds of thousands people for the amusement of their genius, the memories of gallant old men about some Don Juan of their time, who “didn’t let anyone down” and knew how to disgrace every girl and quarrel every family - all such stories prove that they are not very far from us this is a patriarchal time. But, to the great chagrin of the arrogant parasites, it is quickly moving away from us, and now the position of the Wild and Kabanovs is far from being so pleasant: they must take care to strengthen and protect themselves, because demands arise from everywhere that are hostile to their arbitrariness and threaten them struggle with the awakening common sense of the vast majority of mankind. Hence arises the constant suspicion, scrupulousness and captiousness of tyrants: realizing inwardly that there is nothing to respect them for, but not admitting this even to themselves, they reveal a lack of self-confidence in the pettiness of their demands and constant, incidentally and inopportunely, reminders and suggestions that that they should be respected. This feature is extremely expressive in The Thunderstorm, in the scene of Kabanova with the children, when she, in response to her son’s submissive remark: “Can I, mother, disobey you,” she objects: “they don’t really respect the elders these days! » - and then begins to nag his son and daughter-in-law, so that he pulls the soul out of an outside viewer. Kabanov. I think, mother, not a single step is out of your will. Kabanova. I would have believed you, my friend, if I had not seen with my own eyes and heard with my own ears, what is now the reverence for parents from children! If only they remembered how many diseases mothers endure from children. Kabanov. I. mama... Kabanova. If a parent that when and insulting, in your pride, says so, I think it could be transferred! What do you think? Kabanov. But when did I, mother, not endure from you? Kabanova. Mother is old, stupid; well, and you, smart young people, should not exact from us, fools. Kabanov (sighing, to the side). Oh you, Lord! (To the mother.) Yes, mother, do we dare to think. Kabanova. After all, out of love, parents are strict with you, out of love they scold you, they all think to teach you good things. Well, now I don't like it. And the children will go to people to praise that the mother is grumbling, that the mother does not give a pass, she shrinks from the light ... And God forbid, you can’t please the daughter-in-law with some word, - well, the conversation started that the mother-in-law completely ate. Kabanov. Something, mother, who is talking about you? Kabanova. I didn’t hear, my friend, I didn’t hear, I don’t want to lie. If only I had heard, I would have spoken to you, my dear, then I didn’t speak like that . And after this consciousness, the old woman still continues to saw her son for two whole pages. She has no reason for this, but her heart is restless: her heart is a prophet, it makes her feel that something is wrong, that the inner, living connection between her and the younger members of the family has long been destroyed and now they are only mechanically connected with and would be glad to be untied by any chance. We dwelled for a very long time on the dominant persons of The Thunderstorm because, in our opinion, the story played out with Katerina depends decisively on the position that inevitably falls to her lot among these persons, in the way of life that was established under their influence. The Thunderstorm is, without a doubt, Ostrovsky's most decisive work; the mutual relations of tyranny and voicelessness are brought in it to the most tragic consequences; and for all that, most of those who have read and seen this play agree that it makes an impression less heavy and sad than Ostrovsky's other plays (not to mention, of course, his sketches of a purely comic nature). There is even something refreshing and encouraging about The Thunderstorm. This “something” is, in our opinion, the background of the play, indicated by us and revealing the precariousness and the near end of tyranny. Then the very character of Katerina, drawn against this background, also breathes on us with a new life, which opens up to us in her very death. The fact is that the character of Katerina, as he is portrayed in The Thunderstorm, is a step forward not only in Ostrovsky's dramatic activity, but in all of our literature. It corresponds to the new phase of our people's life, it has long demanded its implementation in literature, our best writers circled around it; but they could only understand its need and could not comprehend and feel its essence; Ostrovsky managed to do this. None of the critics of The Thunderstorm wanted or was able to give a proper assessment of this character; Therefore, we decide to extend our article even further in order to state with some detail how we understand the character of Katerina and why we consider the creation of it to be so important for our literature. Russian life has finally reached the point where virtuous and respectable, but weak and impersonal creatures do not satisfy the public consciousness and are recognized as worthless. There was an urgent need for people, though less beautiful, but more active and energetic. Otherwise, it is impossible: as soon as the consciousness of truth and right, common sense woke up in people, they certainly demand not only an abstract agreement with them (which the virtuous heroes of the past always shone so much), but also their introduction into life, into activity. But in order to bring them into life, it is necessary to overcome many obstacles set up by the Wild, Kabanovs, etc.; to overcome obstacles, enterprising, decisive, persevering characters are needed. It is necessary that they be embodied, merged with them, that general demand for truth and right, which finally breaks through in people through all the barriers set up by the Wild Tyrants. Now the big problem was how the character required in our country by the new turn in social life should be formed and manifested. Our writers have tried to solve this problem, but always more or less unsuccessfully. It seems to us that all their failures were due to the fact that they simply came to the conclusion by a logical process that Russian life was looking for such a character, and then cut it in accordance with their ideas about the requirements of valor in general and Russian in particular ... Not so understood and expressed Russian strong character in "Thunderstorm". First of all, he strikes us with his opposition to all self-imposed principles. Not with an instinct for violence and destruction, but also not with practical dexterity to settle his own affairs for high purposes, not with senseless, crackling pathos, but not with diplomatic, pedantic calculation, he appears before us. No, he is concentrated and resolute, unswervingly faithful to the instinct of natural truth, full of faith in new ideals and selfless, in the sense that death is better for him than life under those principles that are contrary to him. He lives not by abstract principles, not by practical considerations, not by momentary pathos, but simply in kind with all your being. In this integrity and harmony of character lies its strength and its essential necessity at a time when the old, wild relationships, having lost all inner strength, continue to be held together by an external, mechanical connection. A person who only logically understands the absurdity of the tyranny of the Wild and Kabanovs will not do anything against them, just because before them all logic disappears; no syllogisms can convince the chain that it breaks on the prisoner, the fist, so that it does not hurt the nailed; so you won’t convince Dikiy to act wiser, and won’t convince his family not to listen to his whims: he will beat them all, and only what will you do with it? It is obvious that characters strong in one logical side must develop very poorly and have a very weak influence on vital activity where all life is governed not by logic, but by pure arbitrariness. The rule of the Savages is not very favorable for the development of people who are strong in the so-called practical sense. Whatever you say about this sense, but in essence it is nothing but the ability to use circumstances and arrange them in your favor. This means that practical sense can lead a person to direct and honest activity only when circumstances are arranged in accordance with sound logic and, consequently, with the natural requirements of human morality. But where everything depends on brute force, where the unreasonable whim of a few Scavs or the superstitious stubbornness of some Kabanova destroys the most correct logical calculations and impudently despises the very first foundations of mutual rights, there the ability to use circumstances, obviously, turns into the ability to apply to the whims of tyrants and imitate all their absurdities in order to pave the way for themselves to their advantageous position. Podkhalyuzins and Chichikovs are the strong practical characters of the "dark kingdom"; others do not develop between people of a purely practical temper, under the influence of the domination of the Savages. The best thing you can dream of for these practitioners is likening Stolz, that is, the ability to turn around their affairs without meanness; but a public living figure will not appear from among them. No more hope can be placed on pathetic characters, living in the moment and the flash. Their impulses are random and short-lived; their practical value is determined by luck. As long as everything goes according to their hopes, they are cheerful, enterprising; as soon as the opposition is strong, they lose heart, grow cold, retreat from the case and confine themselves to fruitless, albeit loud exclamations. And since Dikoy and those like him are not at all capable of giving up their significance and their strength without resistance, since their influence has already cut deep traces in everyday life itself and therefore cannot be destroyed at once, then there is nothing to look at pathetic characters as if they were something. anything serious. Even under the most favorable circumstances, when visible success encouraged them, that is, when petty tyrants could understand the precariousness of their position and began to make concessions - and then pathetic people would not do very much! They differ in that, being carried away by the outward appearance and the immediate consequences of the case, they almost never know how to look into the depth, into the very essence of the case. That is why they are very easily satisfied, deceived by some particular, insignificant signs of the success of their beginnings. When their mistake becomes clear to themselves, then they become disappointed, fall into apathy and doing nothing. Dikoy and Kabanova continue to triumph. Thus, going over the various types that appeared in our lives and reproduced in literature, we constantly came to the conclusion that they cannot serve as representatives of the social movement that we feel now and about which we - as detailed as possible - spoke above. Seeing this, we asked ourselves: how, however, will new strivings be determined in the individual? what traits should distinguish the character, which will make a decisive break with the old, absurd and violent relationships of life? In the actual life of the awakening society, we saw only hints of the solution of our problems, in literature - a weak repetition of these hints; but in The Thunderstorm a whole is made up of them, already with fairly clear outlines; here we have a face taken directly from life, but clarified in the mind of the artist and placed in such positions that allow him to reveal it more fully and more decisively than happens in most cases of ordinary life. Thus, there is no daguerreotype accuracy that some critics have accused Ostrovsky of; but there is precisely the artistic combination of homogeneous features that manifest themselves in different situations in Russian life, but serve as an expression of one idea. The resolute, integral Russian character, acting among the Dikikhs and the Kabanovs, appears in Ostrovsky in the female type, and this is not without its serious significance. It is known that extremes are reflected by extremes, and that the strongest protest is the one that finally rises from the breasts of the weakest and most patient. The field in which Ostrovsky observes and shows us Russian life does not concern purely social and state relations, but is limited to the family; in a family, who bears the yoke of tyranny most of all, if not a woman? What clerk, worker, servant of Dikoy can be so driven, downtrodden, cut off from his personality as his wife? Who can boil so much grief and indignation against the absurd fantasies of a tyrant? And, at the same time, who less than she has the opportunity to express her grumbling, to refuse to do what is disgusting to her? Servants and clerks are connected only materially, in a human way; they can leave the tyrant as soon as they find another place for themselves. The wife, according to the prevailing concepts, is inextricably linked with him, spiritually, through the sacrament; whatever her husband does, she must obey him and share his meaningless life with him. And if, finally, she could leave, then where would she go, what would she do? Curly says: “I need Wild, so I’m not afraid of him and I won’t let him take liberties over me.” It is easy for a man who has come to realize that he is really needed for others; but a woman, a wife? Why is she needed? Isn't she herself, on the contrary, taking everything from her husband? Her husband gives her a home, waters, feeds, clothes, protects her, gives her a position in society ... Isn't she usually considered a burden for a man? Do not prudent people say, when preventing young people from marrying: “A wife is not a bast shoe, you won’t throw it off your feet”! And in the general opinion, the main difference between a wife and a bast shoe lies in the fact that she brings with her a whole burden of worries that the husband cannot get rid of, while the bast shoe gives only convenience, and if it is inconvenient, it can easily be thrown off .. Being in such a position, a woman, of course, must forget that she is the same person, with the same rights as a man. She can only become demoralized, and if the personality in her is strong, then she will get a tendency to the same tyranny from which she suffered so much. This is what we see, for example, in Kabanikha, just as we saw in Ulanbekova. Her tyranny is only narrower and smaller, and therefore, perhaps, even more senseless than that of men: its size is smaller, but within its limits, on those who have already fallen for it, it acts even more intolerably. Wild swears, Kabanova grumbles, he will kill, and it’s over, and this one gnaws at her victim for a long time and relentlessly; he makes a noise about his fantasies and is rather indifferent to your behavior until it touches him; The boar has created for herself a whole world of special rules and superstitious customs, for which she stands with all the stupidity of tyranny. In general, in a woman who has even reached the position of an independent and con amore exercising in tyranny, one can always see her comparative impotence, a consequence of her centuries of oppression: she is heavier, more suspicious, soulless in her demands; she no longer succumbs to sound reasoning, not because she despises it, but rather because she is afraid of not being able to cope with it: “you start, they say, to reason, and what else will come of it - they will braid it just” - and as a result, she strictly clings to antiquity and various instructions given to her by some Feklusha ... It is clear from this that if a woman wants to free herself from such a situation, then her case will be serious and decisive. It doesn't cost anything for some Curly to quarrel with Diky: both of them need each other, and, therefore, no special heroism is needed on the part of Curly to present his demands. But his trick will not lead to anything serious: he will quarrel, Wild will threaten to give him up as a soldier, but he will not give him up; Curly will be pleased that he bit off, and things will go on as before again. Not so with a woman: she must already have a lot of strength of character in order to express her discontent, her demands. At the first attempt, she will be made to feel that she is nothing, that she can be crushed. She knows that this is true, and must accept; otherwise, they will execute a threat over her - they will beat her, lock her up, leave her to repentance, on bread and water, deprive her of the light of day, try all the domestic corrective means of the good old days, and still lead to humility. A woman who wants to go to the end in her rebellion against the oppression and arbitrariness of her elders in the Russian family must be filled with heroic self-sacrifice, she must decide on everything and be ready for everything. How can she bear herself? Where does she get so much character? The only answer to this is that the natural tendencies of human nature cannot be completely destroyed. You can tilt them to the side, press, squeeze, but all this is only to a certain extent. The triumph of false propositions only shows to what extent the elasticity of human nature can reach; but the more unnatural the situation, the nearer and more necessary is the way out of it. And, therefore, it is already very unnatural when even the most flexible natures, most subject to the influence of the force that produced such positions, cannot withstand it. If even the flexible body of a child does not lend itself to any gymnastic trick, then it is obvious that it is impossible for adults, whose limbs are more rigid. Adults, of course, will not allow such a trick with them; but a child can easily taste it. And where does the child take the character in order to resist him with all his might, even if the most terrible punishment was promised for resistance? There is only one answer: it is impossible to endure what he is forced to do... The same must be said about a weak woman who decides to fight for her rights: it has come to the point that it is no longer possible for her to endure her humiliation, so she is torn from it no longer according to what is better and what is worse, but only according to the instinctive striving for what is tolerable and possible. Nature here it replaces the considerations of the mind and the demands of feeling and imagination: all this merges in the general feeling of the organism, demanding air, food, freedom. Here lies the secret of the integrity of the characters that appear in circumstances similar to those we saw in The Thunderstorm, in the environment surrounding Katerina. Thus, the emergence of a female energetic character fully corresponds to the position to which tyranny has been brought in Ostrovsky's drama. In the situation presented by The Thunderstorm, it went to the extreme, to the denial of all common sense; more than ever it is hostile to the natural requirements of mankind and more fiercely than ever tries to stop their development, because in their triumph it sees the approach of its inevitable death. Through this, it still more causes grumbling and protest even in the weakest beings. And at the same time, tyranny, as we have seen, lost its self-confidence, lost its firmness in actions, and lost a significant share of the power that consisted for it in instilling fear in everyone. Therefore, the protest against him is not silenced at the very beginning, but can turn into a stubborn struggle. Those who still live tolerably do not want to risk such a struggle now, in the hope that tyranny will not live long anyway. Katerina’s husband, young Kabanov, although he suffers a lot from the old Kabanikh, is nevertheless more independent: he can run away to Savel Prokofich for a drink, he will go to Moscow from his mother and turn around in the wild, and if he is bad, he will really have to old women, so there is someone to pour out his heart on - he will throw himself at his wife ... So he lives for himself and educates his character, good for nothing, all in the secret hope that he will somehow break free. His wife has no hope, no consolation, she cannot breathe; if he can, then let him live without breathing, forget that there is free air in the world, let him renounce his nature and merge with the capricious whims and despotism of the old Kabanikh. But free air and light, contrary to all the precautions of perishing tyranny, burst into Katerina's cell, she feels the opportunity to satisfy the natural thirst of her soul and can no longer remain motionless: she yearns for a new life, even if she had to die in this impulse. What is death to her? It doesn't matter - she does not consider life and the vegetative life that fell to her lot in the Kabanov family. This is the basis of all the actions of the character depicted in The Storm. This basis is more reliable than all possible theories and pathos, because it lies in the very essence of this position, it irresistibly attracts a person to the matter, does not depend on this or that ability or impression in particular, but relies on the entire complexity of the requirements of the organism, on the development of the whole nature of man. . Now it is curious how such a character develops and manifests itself in particular cases. We can trace its development through Katerina's personality. First of all, “you are struck by the extraordinary originality of this character. There is nothing external, alien in him, but everything comes out somehow from within him; every impression is processed in it and then grows organically with it. We see this, for example, in Katerina's ingenuous story about her childhood and about life in her mother's house. It turns out that her upbringing and young life did not give her anything; in her mother's house it was the same as at the Kabanovs: they went to church, sewed with gold on velvet, listened to the stories of wanderers, dined, walked in the garden, again talked with pilgrims and prayed themselves ... Having listened to Katerina's story, Varvara, her sister her husband, remarks with surprise: “yes, it’s the same with us.” But the difference is determined by Katerina very quickly in five words: “yes, everything here seems to be from bondage!” And further conversation shows that in all this appearance, which is so common with us everywhere, Katerina was able to find her own special meaning, apply it to her needs and aspirations, until the heavy hand of Kabanikha fell on her. Katerina does not at all belong to violent characters, never satisfied, loving to destroy at all costs ... On the contrary, this character is predominantly creative, loving, ideal. That is why she tries to comprehend and ennoble everything in her imagination; that mood, in which, according to the poet, the whole world is cleansed and washed by a noble dream Before him, - this mood does not leave Katerina to the last extreme. She tries to harmonize any external dissonance with the harmony of her soul, she covers any shortcoming from the fullness of her inner forces. Rude, superstitious stories and senseless ravings of wanderers turn in her into golden, poetic dreams of the imagination, not frightening, but clear, kind. Her images are poor, because the materials presented to her by reality are so monotonous; but even with these meager means, her imagination works tirelessly and carries her away to a new world, quiet and bright. It is not the rites that occupy her in the church: she does not hear at all what is being sung and read there; she has other music in her soul, other visions, for her the service ends imperceptibly, as if in one second. She looks at the trees, strangely drawn on the images, and imagines a whole country of gardens, where all such trees and all this bloom, smell fragrant, everything is full of heavenly singing. Otherwise, on a sunny day, she will see how “such a bright pillar goes down from the dome and smoke is walking in this pillar, like clouds,” and now she already sees, “as if angels are flying and singing in this pillar.” Sometimes she will imagine - why shouldn't she fly? and when she stands on a mountain, she is drawn to fly like that: she would run like that, raise her hands, and fly. She is strange, extravagant from the point of view of others; but this is because it cannot in any way accept their views and inclinations. She takes materials from them, because otherwise there is nowhere to take them from; but does not draw conclusions, but searches for them herself, and often does not come to what they rest on. We also notice a similar attitude to external impressions in another environment, in people who, by their upbringing, are accustomed to abstract reasoning and who are able to analyze their feelings. The whole difference is that with Katerina, as a direct, living person, everything is done according to the inclination of nature, without a clear consciousness, while for people who are theoretically developed and strong in mind, logic and analysis play the main role. Strong minds are precisely distinguished by that inner strength that enables them not to succumb to ready-made views and systems, but to create their own views and conclusions on the basis of living impressions. They do not reject anything at first, but they do not stop at anything, but only take everything into account and process it in their own way. Katerina also presents us with analogous results, although she does not resonate and does not even understand her own feelings, but is led by nature. In the dry, monotonous life of her youth, in the coarse and superstitious notions of the environment, she was constantly able to take what agreed with her natural aspirations for beauty, harmony, contentment, happiness. In the conversations of wanderers, in prostrations and lamentations, she saw not a dead form, but something else, to which her heart was constantly striving. On the basis of them, she built her own ideal world, without passions, without need, without grief, a world devoted entirely to goodness and pleasure. But what is the real good and true pleasure for a person, she could not determine for herself; that's why these sudden impulses of some kind of unconscious, obscure aspirations, which she recalls: what I pray and what I cry about; so they will find me. And what I prayed for then, what I asked for - I don’t know; I don’t need anything, I had enough of everything. ” The poor girl, who has not received a broad theoretical education, who does not know everything that is going on in the world, who does not understand well even her own needs, cannot, of course, give herself an account of what she needs. For the time being, she lives with her mother, in complete freedom, without any worldly concern, until the needs and passions of an adult have yet been identified in her, she does not even know how to distinguish her own dreams, her inner world from external impressions. Forgetting among the praying women in her rainbow thoughts and walking in her bright kingdom, she keeps thinking that her contentment comes precisely from these praying women, from the lamps lit in all corners of the house, from the lamentations resounding around her; with her feelings, she animates the dead environment in which she lives, and merges with it the inner world of her soul. This is the period of childhood, which for many lasts a long, very long time, but still has its end. If the end comes very late, if a person begins to understand what he needs, then already, when most of his life has been outlived, then there is almost nothing left for him, except regret that for so long he took his own dreams for reality. He then finds himself in the sad position of a man who, having endowed his beauty with all possible perfections in his fantasy and connected his life with her, suddenly notices that all perfections existed only in his imagination, and there is not even a trace of them in her. But strong characters rarely succumb to such a decisive delusion: they have a very strong demand for clarity and reality, which is why they do not stop at uncertainties and try to get out of them at all costs. Noticing discontent in themselves, they try to drive it away; but, seeing that it does not pass, they end up giving complete freedom to express themselves to the new demands that arise in the soul, and then they will not calm down until they have achieved their satisfaction. And here life itself comes to the rescue - for some it is favorable, by expanding the circle of impressions, while for others it is difficult and bitter - by constraints and worries that destroy the harmonious harmony of young fantasies. The last path fell to the lot of Katerina, as it falls to the lot of most people in the "dark kingdom" of the Wild and Kabanovs. In the gloomy surroundings of the new family, Katerina began to feel the lack of appearance, which she had thought to be content with before. Under the heavy hand of the soulless Kabanikh there is no scope for her bright visions, just as there is no freedom for her feelings. In a fit of tenderness for her husband, she wants to hug him - the old woman shouts: “What are you hanging around your neck, shameless? Bow down at your feet!" She wants to be left alone and mourn quietly, as she used to, and her mother-in-law says: “why don’t you howl?” She is looking for light, air, wants to dream and frolic, water her flowers, look at the sun, the Volga, send her greetings to all living things - and she is kept in captivity, she is constantly suspected of impure, depraved plans. She still seeks refuge in religious practice, in church attendance, in soul-saving conversations; but even here he does not find the former impressions. Killed by daily work and eternal bondage, she can no longer dream with the same clarity of angels singing in a dusty pillar illuminated by the sun, she cannot imagine the gardens of Eden with their unperturbed look and joy. Everything is gloomy, scary. Around her, everything breathes cold and some irresistible menace; and the faces of the saints are so strict, and the church readings are so formidable, and the stories of the wanderers are so monstrous... They are still the same in essence, they have not changed in the least, but she herself has changed: she no longer wants to build aerial visions, and certainly not satisfies her that indefinite imagination of bliss, which she enjoyed before. She matured, other desires woke up in her, more real; knowing no other career but her family, no other world than the one that has developed for her in the society of her town, she, of course, begins to recognize from all human aspirations that which is most inevitable and closest to her - the desire of love and devotion. . In the old days, her heart was too full of dreams, she did not pay attention to the young people who looked at her, but only laughed. When she married Tikhon Kabanov, she did not love him either, she still did not understand this feeling; they told her that every girl should get married, showed Tikhon as her future husband, and she went for him, remaining completely indifferent to this step. And here, too, a peculiarity of character is manifested: according to our usual concepts, she should be resisted if she has a decisive character; but she does not think of resistance, because she does not have sufficient grounds for this. She has no special desire to get married, but there is no aversion from marriage either; there is no love in her for Tikhon, but there is no love for anyone else either. She doesn't care for the time being, which is why she lets you do whatever you want with her. One cannot see in this either impotence or apathy, but one can only find a lack of experience, and even too much readiness to do everything for others, taking little care of oneself. She has little knowledge and a lot of gullibility, which is why until the time she does not show opposition to others and decides to endure better than to do it in spite of them. But when she understands what she needs and wants to achieve something, she will achieve her goal at all costs: then the strength of her character, not wasted in petty antics, will fully manifest itself. At first, according to the innate kindness and nobility of her soul, she will make every possible effort not to violate the peace and the rights of others, in order to get what she wants with the greatest possible observance of all the requirements that are imposed on her by people who are somehow connected with her; and if they manage to take advantage of this initial mood and decide to give her complete satisfaction, then it is good both for her and for them. But if not, she will stop at nothing: law, kinship, custom, human judgment, the rules of prudence - everything disappears for her before the power of inner attraction; she does not spare herself and does not think about others. This was precisely the exit presented to Katerina, and another could not be expected in the midst of the situation in which she finds herself. The feeling of love for a person, the desire to find a kindred response in another heart, the need for tender pleasures naturally opened up in a young woman and changed her former, vague and incorporeal dreams. “At night, Varya, I can’t sleep,” she says, “I keep imagining some kind of whisper: someone is talking to me so affectionately, like a dove cooing. I no longer dream, Varya, as before, paradise trees and mountains; but it’s as if someone is embracing me so passionately and leading me somewhere, and I follow him, I follow ... ”She realized and caught these dreams quite late; but, of course, they pursued and tormented her long before she herself could give an account of them. At their first appearance, she immediately turned her feelings to that which was closest to her - to her husband. For a long time she struggled to make her soul akin to him, to assure herself that she needed nothing with him, that in him there was the bliss she was so anxiously seeking. She looked with fear and bewilderment at the possibility of seeking mutual love in someone other than him. In the play, which finds Katerina already with the beginning of her love for Boris Grigorych, one can still see Katerina's last, desperate efforts - to make her husband dear to herself. The scene of her parting with him makes us feel that even here all is not lost for Tikhon, that he can still retain his rights to the love of this woman; but this same scene, in short but sharp sketches, tells us the whole story of the tortures that forced Katerina to endure in order to alienate her first feeling from her husband. Tikhon is here simple-hearted and vulgar, not at all evil, but extremely spineless creature, not daring to do anything contrary to his mother. And the mother is a soulless creature, a fist-woman, concluding in Chinese ceremonies - and love, and religion, and morality. Between her and between his wife, Tikhon represents one of the many pitiful types who are usually called harmless, although in a general sense they are just as harmful as the tyrants themselves, because they serve as their faithful assistants. Tikhon himself loved his wife and would be ready to do anything for her; but the oppression under which he grew up has so disfigured him that no strong feeling, no resolute striving can develop in him. There is a conscience in him, there is a desire for good, but he constantly acts against himself and serves as a submissive instrument of his mother, even in his relations with his wife. Even in the first scene of the appearance of the Kabanov family on the boulevard, we see what is the position of Katerina between her husband and mother-in-law. The boar scolds her son that his wife is not afraid of him; he decides to object: “but why should she be afraid? It's enough for me that she loves me." The old woman immediately throws herself at him: “how, why be afraid? How, why be afraid! Yes, you're crazy, right? You will not be afraid, and even more so me: what kind of order will it be in the house! After all, you, tea, live with her in law. Ali, do you think the law means nothing?” Under such beginnings, of course, the feeling of love in Katerina does not find scope and hides inside her, affecting only at times convulsive impulses. But even these impulses the husband does not know how to use: he is too downtrodden to understand the power of her passionate yearning. “I won’t make out you, Katya,” he says to her: “you won’t get a word from you, let alone affection, otherwise you climb yourself like that.” This is how ordinary and spoiled natures usually judge a strong and fresh nature: they, judging by themselves, do not understand the feeling that is buried in the depths of the soul, and take any concentration for apathy; when at last, not being able to hide any longer, the inner strength gushes out of the soul in a wide and rapid stream, they are surprised and consider this some kind of trick, a whim, like the fantasy that sometimes comes to them themselves to fall into pathos or goofy. Meanwhile, these impulses are a necessity in a strong nature and are the more striking the longer they do not find an outlet for themselves. They are unintentional, not thought out, but caused by natural necessity. The strength of nature, which does not have the opportunity to develop actively, is also expressed passively - by patience, restraint. But don't mix this patience with that which comes from the weak development of personality in man and which ends up becoming accustomed to insults and hardships of every kind. No, Katerina will never get used to them; she still does not know what and how she will decide, she does not violate her duties to her mother-in-law in any way, she does everything possible to get along well with her husband, but everything shows that she feels her position and that she is drawn to break out of it. She never complains, never scolds her mother-in-law; the old woman herself cannot bring this upon her; and, nevertheless, the mother-in-law feels that Katerina is something inappropriate, hostile for her. Tikhon, who is afraid of his mother like fire and, moreover, is not distinguished by special delicacy and tenderness, however, is ashamed in front of his wife when, at the behest of his mother, he must punish her so that without him she “does not stare at the windows” and “does not look at young guys” . He sees that he bitterly insults her with such speeches, although he cannot properly understand her condition. When his mother leaves the room, he consoles his wife in this way: “Take everything to heart, so you will soon fall into consumption. Why listen to her! She needs to say something. Well, let her talk, and you pass by your ears! This indifferentism is definitely bad and hopeless; but Katerina can never reach him; although outwardly she is even less upset than Tikhon, complains less, but in essence she suffers much more. Tikhon also feels that he does not have something he needs; there is discontent in him too; but it is in him to such a degree as, for example, a ten-year-old boy with a perverted imagination can be attracted to a woman. He cannot very resolutely seek independence and his rights - already because he does not know what to do with them; his desire is more head, external, and his nature, having succumbed to the oppression of education, remained almost deaf to natural aspirations. Therefore, the very search for freedom in him takes on an ugly character and becomes repugnant, just as repulsive is the cynicism of a ten-year-old boy who, without meaning and inner need, repeats the nasty things heard from the big ones. Tikhon, you see, heard from someone that he is "also a man" and therefore should have a certain amount of power and significance in the family; therefore, he places himself much higher than his wife and, believing that God already judged her to endure and humble herself, he looks at his position under the supervision of his mother as bitter and humiliating. Then, he is inclined towards revelry, and in it he mainly puts freedom: just like the same boy, who does not know how to comprehend the real essence, why a woman's love is so sweet, and who knows only the external side of the matter, which with him turns into smut : Tikhon, about to leave, with shameless cynicism says to his wife, who begs him to take her with him: “With some kind of bondage, you will run away from any beautiful wife you want! You think that: whatever it is, but I'm still a man,- live like this all your life, as you see, this is how you will run away from your wife. But how do I know now that for two weeks there will be no thunderstorm on me, there are no shackles on my legs, so am I up to my wife? Katerina can only answer him to this: “how can I love you when you say such words?” But Tikhon does not understand the full importance of this gloomy and decisive reproach; like a man who has already given up on his mind, he answers casually: “words are like words! What other words should I say! - and in a hurry to get rid of his wife. What for? What does he want to do, on what to take his soul, breaking free? He himself later tells Kuligin about this: “on the road, my mother read, read instructions to me, and as soon as I left, I went on a spree. I am very glad that I broke free. And he drank all the way, and in Moscow he drank everything; so it's a heap, what's up. So, to take a walk for a whole year! .. " That's all! And it must be said that in the old days, when the consciousness of the individual and his rights had not yet risen in the majority, protests against tyrannical oppression were almost limited to such antics. And even today you can still meet many Tikhonov, reveling, if not in wine, then in some kind of reasoning and speeches and taking their souls away in the noise of verbal orgies. These are precisely the people who constantly complain about their cramped position, and meanwhile are infected with the proud thought of their privileges and their superiority over others: “whatever it is, but still I am a man - so how can I endure something.” That is: “be patient, because you are a woman and, therefore, rubbish, but I need a will, not because it was a human, natural requirement, but because such are the rights of my privileged person” ... Clearly, that from such people and habits nothing could ever and never can come out. But the new movement of people's life, which we spoke about above and which we found reflected in the character of Katerina, is not like them. In this personality we see already mature, from the depths of the whole organism, the demand for the right and the scope of life that arises. Here it is no longer imagination, not hearsay, not an artificially excited impulse that appears to us, but the vital necessity of nature. Katerina is not capricious, does not flirt with her discontent and anger - this is not in her nature; she does not want to impress others, to show off and boast. On the contrary, she lives very peacefully and is ready to submit to everything that is not contrary to her nature; her principle, if she could recognize and define it, would be that of how. you can less embarrass others with your personality and disturb the general course of affairs. But on the other hand, recognizing and respecting the aspirations of others, it demands the same respect for itself, and any violence, any constraint revolts it vitally, deeply. If she could, she would drive far from herself everything that lives wrong and harms others; but, not being able to do this, she goes the opposite way - she herself runs from the destroyers and offenders. If only not to obey their principles, contrary to her nature, if only not to reconcile with their unnatural demands, and then what will come out - whether the best lot for her or death - she no longer looks at this: in both cases, deliverance for her. .. About her character, Katerina tells Varya one more trait from her childhood memories: “I was born so hot! I was still six years old, no more - so I did it! They offended me with something at home, but it was in the evening, it was already dark - I ran out to the Volga, got into the boat, and pushed it away from the shore. The next morning they found it, ten versts away...” This childish ardor was preserved in Katerina; only, together with her general maturity, did she also have the strength to withstand impressions and dominate them. An adult Katerina, forced to endure insults, finds in herself the strength to endure them for a long time, without vain complaints, semi-resistance and all sorts of noisy antics. She endures until some interest speaks in her, especially close to her heart and legitimate in her eyes, until such a demand of her nature is offended in her, without the satisfaction of which she cannot remain calm. Then she will not look at anything. She will not resort to diplomatic tricks, to deceptions and swindles - she is not like that. If it is necessary to deceive without fail, then it is better to try to overcome herself. Varya advises Katerina to hide her love for Boris; she says: “I don’t know how to deceive, I can’t hide anything,” and after that she makes an effort over her heart and again turns to Varya with this speech: “don’t tell me about him, do me a favor, don’t talk! I don't want to know him! I will love my husband. Tisha, my dear, I won’t exchange you for anyone! But the effort is already beyond her capacity; in a minute she feels that she cannot get rid of the love that has arisen. “Do I want to think about him,” she says: “but what should I do if it doesn’t get out of my head?” These simple words express very clearly how the power of natural aspirations, imperceptibly to Katerina herself, triumphs in her over all external demands, prejudices and artificial combinations in which her life is entangled. Let us note that, theoretically, Katerina could not reject any of these demands, she could not free herself from any backward opinions; she went against all of them, armed only with the power of her feelings, the instinctive consciousness of her direct, inalienable right to life, happiness and love ... She does not resonate in the least, but with surprising ease resolves all the difficulties of her position. Here is her conversation with Varvara: Varvara. You're kind of tricky, God bless you! And in my opinion - do what you want, if only it was sewn and covered. Katerina. I don't want that, and what good! I'd rather endure while I endure. Barbara. And if you don't, what are you going to do? Katerina. What will I do? Barbara. Yes, what will you do? Katerina. Whatever I want then I'll do. Barbara. Make a try, so you'll be picked up here. Katerina. What about me! I'm leaving, and I was. Barbara. Where will you go! You are a husband's wife. Katerina. Eh, Varya, you don't know my character! Of course, God forbid this should happen, and if I get too cold here, they won't hold me back by any force. I'll throw myself out the window, I'll throw myself into the Volga. I don’t want to live here, so I won’t, even if you cut me. Here is the true strength of character, which in any case can be relied upon! This is the height to which our popular life reaches in its development, but to which very few in our literature have been able to rise, and no one has been able to hold on to it as well as Ostrovsky. He felt that not abstract beliefs, but life facts govern a person, that not a way of thinking, not principles, but nature is needed for the formation and manifestation of a strong character, and he knew how to create such a person who serves as a representative of a great popular idea, without carrying great ideas. neither in the tongue nor in the head, selflessly goes to the end in an uneven struggle and perishes, without at all dooming himself to high self-sacrifice. Her actions are in harmony with her nature, neither natural, necessary for her, she cannot refuse them, even if this had the most disastrous consequences. The strong characters claimed in other works of our literature are like fountains, gushing rather beautifully and briskly, but depending in their manifestations on an extraneous mechanism brought to them; Katerina, on the contrary, can be likened to a deep river: it flows as its natural property requires; the nature of its current changes according to the terrain through which it passes, but the current does not stop: a flat bottom - it flows calmly, large stones met - it jumps over them, a cliff - it cascades, dam it - it rages and breaks in another place. It boils not because the water suddenly wants to make a noise or get angry at an obstacle, but simply because it is necessary for it to fulfill its natural requirement - for the further flow. So it is in the character that Ostrovsky reproduced for us: we know that he will endure himself, in spite of any obstacles; and when there is not enough strength, she will perish, but will not change herself ... In Katerina's position, we see that, on the contrary, all the "ideas" instilled in her from childhood, all the principles of the environment - rebel against her natural aspirations and actions. The terrible struggle to which the young woman is condemned takes place in every word, in every movement of the drama, and this is where all the importance of the introductory characters for which Ostrovsky is so reproached turns out. Take a good look: you see that Katerina was brought up in concepts that are the same as the concepts of the environment in which she lives, and cannot get rid of them, having no theoretical education. The stories of the wanderers and the suggestions of the family, although they were processed by her in her own way, could not help but leave an ugly trace in her soul: and indeed, we see in the play that Katerina, having lost her bright dreams and ideal, lofty aspirations, retained from her upbringing one thing strong feeling - fear some dark forces, something unknown, which she could not explain to herself well, nor reject. For every thought she fears, for the simplest feeling she expects punishment for herself; it seems to her that a thunderstorm will kill her, because she is a sinner, the pictures of fiery hell on the church wall seem to her already a foreshadow of her eternal torment ... And everything around her supports and develops this fear in her: Feklushi go to Kabanikha to talk about the last times; Wild insists that a thunderstorm is sent to us as punishment, so that we feel; the mistress who has come, inspiring fear in everyone in the city, is shown several times in order to shout over Katerina in an ominous voice: “You will all burn in fire in unquenchable.” Everyone around is full of superstitious fear, and everyone around, in accordance with the concepts of Katerina herself, should look at her feelings for Boris as the greatest crime. Even the daring Curly, the ésprit-fort of this environment, even finds that the girls can hang out with the guys as much as they want - that's nothing, but the women have to be locked up. This conviction is so strong in him that, having learned about Boris's love for Katerina, he, despite his daring and some kind of outrage, says that "this business must be abandoned." Everything is against Katerina, even her own ideas about good and evil; everything must make her - to drown out her impulses and wither in the cold and gloomy formalism of family silence and humility, without any living aspirations, without will, without love - or else learn to deceive people and conscience. But don't be afraid for her, don't be afraid even when she herself speaks against herself: for a time she may either ostensibly submit, or even deceive, just as a river can hide under the ground or move away from its channel; but flowing water will not stop and will not go back, but nevertheless it will reach its end, to the point where it can merge with other waters and run together to the waters of the ocean. The environment in which Katerina lives requires her to lie and deceive; “It’s impossible without this,” Varvara tells her, “you remember where you live; Our whole house is based on this. And I was not a liar, but I learned when it became necessary. Katerina succumbs to her position, goes out to Boris at night, hides her feelings from her mother-in-law for ten days ... You might think: another woman has gone astray, learned to deceive her family and will debauchery on the sly, pretending to caress her husband and wearing the disgusting mask of a humble woman! One could not strictly blame her for this either: her situation is so difficult! But then she would have been one of the dozens of faces of the type that is already so worn out in stories that showed how "environment seizes good people." Katerina is not like that: the denouement of her love, despite the whole home environment, is visible in advance, even when she only approaches the matter. She does not engage in psychological analysis and therefore cannot express subtle observations of herself; what she says about herself, it means that she strongly makes herself known to her. And she, at the first suggestion of Varvara about her meeting with Boris, cries out: “No, no, don’t! What are you, God save: if I see him at least once, I will run away from home, I will not go home for anything in the world! This is not a reasonable precaution in her, it is a passion; and it’s already clear that no matter how hard she restrains herself, passion is above her, above all her prejudices and fears, above all suggestions. heard by her since childhood. In this passion lies her whole life; all the strength of her nature, all her living aspirations merge here. She is attracted to Boris not only by the fact that she likes him, that he is not like the others around her both in appearance and speech; she is attracted to him by the need for love, which has not found a response in her husband, and the offended feeling of the wife and woman, and the mortal anguish of her monotonous life, and the desire for freedom, space, hot, unrestricted freedom. She keeps dreaming about how she could “fly invisibly wherever she wanted”; otherwise such a thought comes: “if it were my will, I would now ride on the Volga, on a boat, with songs, or on a troika on a good one, embracing” ... “Not with my husband,” Varya tells her, and Katerina does not can hide her feelings and immediately opens up to her with the question: “How do you know?” It is evident that Varvara's remark explained a lot to herself: in telling her dreams so naively, she did not yet fully understand their significance. But one word is enough to give her thoughts the certainty that she herself was afraid to give them. Until now, she could still doubt whether this new feeling really contained the bliss for which she was so languidly seeking. But once she has uttered the word of mystery, she will not depart from it even in her thoughts. Fear, doubts, the thought of sin and human judgment - all this comes into her head, but no longer has power over her; this is so, formalities, to clear the conscience. In the monologue with the key (the last one in the second act), we see a woman in whose soul a decisive step has already been taken, but who only wants to “speak” herself somehow. She makes an attempt to stand somewhat aloof from herself and judge the act she has decided on as an extraneous matter; but her thoughts are all directed towards the justification of this act. “Here,” he says, “is it a long time to die ... In captivity, someone has fun ... At least now I live, toil, I don’t see a gap for myself ... my mother-in-law crushed me” ... etc. etc. - all exculpatory articles. And then more easing considerations: “it’s already clear that fate wants it that way ... But what a sin in this, if I look at it once ... Yes, even if I talk about it, it’s not a problem. Or maybe such a case will never happen again in a lifetime ... ”This monologue aroused in some critics a desire to sneer at Katerina as over a shameless hypocrite; but we know no greater impudence than to assert that we or any of our ideal friends are not involved in such transactions with conscience. .. It is not individuals who are to blame for these transactions, but those concepts that have been hammered into their heads from childhood and which are so often contrary to the natural course of the living aspirations of the soul. Until these concepts are expelled from society, until the full harmony of the ideas and needs of nature is restored in the human being, until then such transactions are inevitable. It is also good if, while doing them, one comes to what seems natural and common sense, and does not fall under the yoke of conventional instructions of artificial morality. This is what Katerina became strong for, and the stronger nature speaks in her, the calmer she looks in the face of children's nonsense, which those around her have taught her to be afraid of. Therefore, it even seems to us that the artist, who plays the role of Katerina on the St. Petersburg stage, is making a small mistake, giving the monologue we are talking about too much heat and tragedy. She obviously wants to express the struggle taking place in Katerina's soul, and from this point of view she conveys the difficult monologue admirably. But it seems to us that it is more in line with the character and position of Katerina in this case - to give her words more calm and lightness. The struggle, in fact, is already over, only a little thought remains, the old rags still cover Katerina, and she gradually throws her off her. The end of the monologue betrays her heart. “Come what may, and I’ll see Boris,” she concludes, and in oblivion of premonition she exclaims: “oh, if only the night would come sooner!” Such love, such a feeling will not get along within the walls of a boar's house, with pretense and deceit. Katerina, although she decided on a secret meeting, but for the first time, in the rapture of love, she says to Boris, who assures that no one will know anything: “Eh, that it’s no one’s fault to feel sorry for me, she went to that herself. Don't be sorry, kill me! Let everyone know, let everyone see what I'm doing... If I'm not afraid of sin for you, will I be afraid of human judgment? And for sure, she is not afraid of anything, except for depriving her of the opportunity to see her chosen one, to talk with him, to enjoy these summer nights with him, these new feelings for her. Her husband arrived, and her life became unrealistic. It was necessary to hide, to be cunning; she did not want to and did not know how; it was necessary to return again to her callous, dreary life - this seemed to her bitterer than before. Moreover, I had to be afraid every minute for myself, for my every word, especially in front of my mother-in-law; one also had to be afraid of a terrible punishment for the soul ... Such a situation was unbearable for Katerina: days and nights she kept thinking, suffering, exalted her imagination, already hot, and the end was one that she could not endure - for all people crowded in the gallery of the old church, repented of everything to her husband. His first movement was fear of what his mother would say. “Don’t, don’t say, mother is here,” he whispers, confused. But the mother has already listened and demands a full confession, at the end of which she draws her moral: “What, son, where will the will lead?” It is difficult, of course, to mock common sense more than how Kabanikha does it in his exclamation. But in the "dark kingdom" common sense means nothing: with the "criminal" they took measures that were completely opposite to him, but usual in that life: the husband, at the behest of his mother, beat his wife a little, the mother-in-law locked her up and began to eat. .. The will and peace of the poor woman are over: before, at least they could not reproach her, at least she could feel that she was completely right in front of these people. And now, after all, one way or another, she is guilty before them, she violated her duties to them, brought grief and shame to the family; now the most cruel treatment of her already has reasons and justification. What is left for her? To regret the unsuccessful attempt to break free and leave her dreams of love and happiness, as she had already left her rainbow dreams of wonderful gardens with heavenly singing. It remains for her to submit, renounce independent life and become an unquestioning servant of her mother-in-law, a meek slave of her husband and never again dare to make any attempts to again reveal her demands ... But no, this is not the nature of Katerina; not then reflected in it a new type, created by Russian life, - to be expressed only by a fruitless attempt and perish after the first failure. No, she will not return to her former life: if she cannot enjoy her feelings, her will, quite legitimately and holy, in the light of a broad day, in front of all the people, if they tear out from her what she has found and what is so dear to her, she is nothing. then she doesn't want life, she doesn't want life either. The fifth act of "Thunderstorm" is the apotheosis of this character, so simple, deep and so close to the position and heart of every decent person in our society. The artist did not put any stilts on his heroine, he did not even give her heroism, but left her the same simple, naive woman that she appeared before us even before her “sin”. In the fifth act, she has only two monologues and a conversation with Boris; but they are full in their conciseness of such force, of such significant revelations, that, having set about them, we are afraid to comment on another whole article. We will try to limit ourselves to a few words. In Katerina's monologues it is clear that even now she has nothing formulated; she is guided to the end by her nature, and not by given decisions, because for decisions she would need to have logical, solid foundations, and yet all the principles that are given to her for theoretical reasoning are resolutely contrary to her natural inclinations. That is why she not only does not take heroic poses and does not utter sayings that prove her strength of character, but on the contrary, she appears in the form of a weak woman who cannot resist her instincts, and tries to justify the heroism that is manifested in her actions. She decided to die, but she is terrified by the thought that this is a sin, and she seems to be trying to prove to us and to herself that she can be forgiven, since it is already very difficult for her. She would like to enjoy life and love; but she knows that this is a crime, and therefore she says in her own defense: “well, it doesn’t matter, I’ve ruined my soul!” She complains about no one, blames no one, and even the thought of nothing like that comes to her; on the contrary, she is to blame for everyone, she even asks Boris if he is angry with her, if he curses ... There is neither malice nor contempt in her, nothing that usually flaunts disappointed heroes who arbitrarily leave the world. But she can't live any longer, she can't, and that's all; from the fullness of her heart she says: “I am already exhausted ... How much longer will I suffer? Why should I live now, well, why? I don't need anything, nothing is nice to me, and the light of God is not nice! - and death does not come. You call her, but she doesn't come. Whatever I see, whatever I hear, only here ( showing the heart ) painfully". At the thought of the grave, she becomes lighter, - calmness seems to pour into her soul. “So quiet, so good... But I don’t even want to think about life... To live again?... No, no, don’t... it’s not good. And the people are disgusting to me, and the house is disgusting to me, and the walls are disgusting! I won't go there! No, no, I won’t go ... If you come to them - they go, they say, - but what do I need it for? then semi-heated state. At the last moment, all domestic horrors flash especially vividly in her imagination. She cries out: “But they will catch me and bring me back home by force! .. Hurry, hurry ...” And the matter is over: she will no longer be a victim of a soulless mother-in-law, she will no longer languish locked up, with her spineless and disgusting husband. She is liberated! .. Sad, bitter is such a liberation; But what to do when there is no other way out. It's good that the poor woman found determination at least for this terrible exit. That is the strength of her character, which is why "Thunderstorm" makes a refreshing impression on us, as we said above. Without a doubt, it would have been better if it had been possible for Katerina to get rid of her tormentors in some other way, or if the tormentors around her could change and reconcile her with themselves and with life. But neither one nor the other - not in the order of things. Kabanova cannot leave what she was brought up with and lived for a century; her spineless son cannot suddenly, for no apparent reason, acquire firmness and independence to such an extent as to renounce all the absurdities suggested to him by the old woman; everything around cannot suddenly turn over in such a way as to make the sweet life of a young woman. The most they can do is to forgive her, to lighten somewhat the burden of her confinement at home, to say a few gracious words to her, perhaps to give her the right to have a voice in the household when her opinion is asked. Perhaps this would have been enough for another woman, downtrodden, powerless, and at another time, when the tyranny of the Kabanovs rested on general silence and did not have so many reasons to show their impudent contempt for common sense and every right. But we see that Katerina has not killed human nature in herself, and that she is only outwardly, according to her position, under the yoke of a tyrannical life; internally, in his heart and mind, he is aware of all its absurdity, which is now even increased by the fact that the Diky and Kabanovs, meeting a contradiction for themselves and not being able to overcome it, but wanting to put it on their own, directly declare themselves against logic, that is, they put themselves fools in front of most people. In this state of affairs, it goes without saying that Katerina cannot be satisfied with a generous forgiveness from tyrants and the return to her of her former rights in the family: she knows what Kabanova's mercy means and what the position of a daughter-in-law can be with such a mother-in-law ... No, she should have not that they would give in to anything and make it easier, but that the mother-in-law, the husband, all those around them would become able to satisfy the living aspirations with which she is imbued, to recognize the legitimacy of her natural requirements, to renounce all compulsory rights to her and be reborn to that to become worthy of her love and trust. Needless to say, to what extent such a rebirth is possible for them ... Less impossible would be another solution - to flee with Boris from the arbitrariness and violence of the home. Despite the severity of the formal law, despite the bitterness of crude tyranny, such steps are not impossible in themselves, especially for such characters as Katerina. And she does not neglect this way out, because she is not an abstract heroine who wants to die on principle. Having run away from home to see Boris, and already thinking about death, she, however, is not at all averse to escaping; having learned that Boris is going far away, to Siberia, she very simply tells him: "take me with you from here." But then a stone emerges in front of us for a minute, which keeps people in the depths of the whirlpool, which we called the “dark kingdom”. This stone is material dependence. Boris has nothing and is completely dependent on his uncle, Wild; Dikoy and the Kabanovs were arranged to send him to Kyakhta, and, of course, they would not let him take Katerina with him. That is why he answers her: “It is impossible, Katya; I’m not going of my own free will, my uncle is sending, the horses are already ready, ”and so on. Boris is not a hero, he is far from Katerina, she fell in love with him more in the wilderness. He had enough "education" and could not cope either with the old way of life, or with his heart, or with common sense - he walks as if lost. He lives with his uncle because he and his sister must give part of the grandmother's inheritance, "if they are respectful to him." Boris is well aware that Dikoi will never recognize him as respectful and therefore will not give him anything; yes, this is not enough. Boris argues as follows: “No, he will first break into us, scold us in every possible way, as his heart desires, but all the same will end up by not giving anything or so, some little, and even will begin to tell what he has given out of mercy, that it shouldn't be." And yet he lives with his uncle and endures his curses; why? - unknown. At the first meeting with Katerina, when she talks about what awaits her for this, Boris interrupts her with the words: “well, what to think about it, it’s good for us now.” And at the last meeting, she cries: “who knew that we would suffer so much for our love with you! I'd better run then!" In a word, this is one of those very frequent people who do not know how to do what they understand, and do not understand what they are doing. Their type has been portrayed many times in our fiction, sometimes with exaggerated compassion for them, sometimes with excessive bitterness against them. Ostrovsky gives them to us as they are, and with his special skill draws two or three features of their complete insignificance, although, however, not devoid of a certain degree of spiritual nobility. There is nothing to talk about Boris, he, in fact, should also be attributed to the situation in which the heroine of the play finds herself. He represents one of the circumstances that makes its fatal end necessary. If it were a different person and in a different position, then there would be no need to rush into the water. But the fact of the matter is that the environment, subject to the power of the Dikikhs and Kabanovs, usually produces Tikhonovs and Boriss, unable to perk up and accept their human nature, even when confronted with such characters as Katerina. We have said a few words above about Tikhon; Boris is the same in essence, only "educated". Education took away from him the power to do dirty tricks, - true; but it did not give him the strength to resist the dirty tricks that others do; it has not even developed in him the ability to behave in such a way as to remain alien to all the vile things that swarm around him. No, not only does he not oppose, he submits to other people's nasty things, he willy-nilly participates in them and must accept all their consequences. But he understands his position, talks about it, and often even deceives, for the first time, truly lively and strong natures, who, judging by themselves, think that if a person thinks so, understands so, then he must do so. Looking from their point of view, such natures will not hesitate to say to “educated” sufferers who are moving away from the sad circumstances of life: “take me with you, I will follow you everywhere.” But this is where the impotence of the sufferers will turn out; it turns out that they did not foresee, and that they curse themselves, and that they would be glad, but it’s impossible, and that they have no will, and most importantly, that they have nothing in their souls and that in order to continue their existence, they must serve that the very same Wild One, whom we would like to get rid of together with us. .. There is nothing to praise or scold these people, but you need to pay attention to the practical ground on which the question passes; it must be admitted that it is difficult for a person who expects an inheritance from an uncle to shake off his dependence on this uncle, and then one must give up excessive hopes in nephews who expect an inheritance. even if they were “educated” to the utmost. If we analyze the guilty here, then it will be not so much the nephews that are to blame, but the uncles, or, better, their inheritance. However, we spoke at length about the significance of material dependence as the main basis of all the power of tyrants in the "dark kingdom" in our previous articles. Therefore, here we only recall this in order to indicate the decisive need for that fatal end that Katerina has in The Thunderstorm, and, consequently, the decisive need for a character that, in the given situation, would be ready for such an end. We have already said that this end seems to us gratifying; it is easy to understand why: in it a terrible challenge is given to the tyrannical force, he tells it that it is no longer possible to go further, it is impossible to live any longer with its violent, deadening principles. In Katerina we see a protest against Kabanov's conceptions of morality, a protest carried to the end, proclaimed both under domestic torture and over the abyss into which the poor woman threw herself. She does not want to be reconciled, she does not want to take advantage of the miserable vegetative life that is given to her in exchange for her living soul. Her death is the fulfilled song of the Babylonian captivity, play and sing to us the songs of Zion, their conquerors said to the Jews; but the sad prophet replied that it was not possible to sing the sacred songs of the homeland in slavery, that it would be better for their tongue to stick to the larynx and their hands to wither, than they would take up the harp and sing the songs of Zion for the amusement of their masters. Despite all its despair, this song produces a highly gratifying, courageous impression; you feel that the Jewish people would not perish if they were all and always inspired by such feelings ... But even without any lofty considerations, simply for humanity, it is gratifying for us to see Katerina's deliverance - even through death, if it is impossible otherwise. In this regard, we have terrible evidence in the drama itself, telling us that living in the "dark kingdom" is worse than death. Tikhon, throwing himself on the corpse of his wife, pulled out of the water, shouts in self-forgetfulness: “It’s good for you, Katya! Why am I left to live in the world and suffer!” The play ends with this exclamation, and it seems to us that nothing could have been invented stronger and more truthful than such an ending. Tikhon's words give the key to the understanding of the play for those who would not even understand its essence before; they make the viewer think not about a love affair, but about this whole life, where the living envy the dead, and even some suicides! Strictly speaking, Tikhon's exclamation is stupid: the Volga is close, who prevents him from throwing himself if life is nauseating? But that is precisely his grief, that is what is hard for him, that he can do nothing, absolutely nothing, even that in which he recognizes his good and salvation. This moral corruption, this annihilation of a person, affects us harder than any most tragic incident: there you see simultaneous death, the end of suffering, often deliverance from the need to serve as a miserable instrument of some kind of vile thing; and here - constant, oppressive pain, relaxation, a half-corpse, rotting alive for many years ... And to think that this living corpse is not one, not an exception, but a whole mass of people subject to the corrupting influence of the Wild and Kabanovs! And do not expect deliverance for them - this, you see, is terrible! But what a gratifying, fresh life a healthy person breathes upon us, finding in himself the determination to put an end to this rotten life at all costs!.. This is where we end. We did not talk about much - about the scene of a nightly meeting, about Kuligin's personality, which is also not without significance in the play, about Varvara and Kudryash, about Diky's conversation with Kabanova, etc., etc. This is because our goal was to indicate the general meaning play, and being carried away by the general, we could not sufficiently go into the analysis of all the details. Literary judges will again be dissatisfied: the measure of the artistic merit of a play is not sufficiently defined and clarified, the best places are not indicated, the secondary and main characters are not strictly separated, but most of all - art has again been made an instrument of some extraneous idea! .. All this we know and have only one answer: let the readers judge for themselves (we assume that everyone has read or seen The Thunderstorm), - is the idea indicated by us exactly - a completely extraneous "Thunderstorm" forced upon us, or does it really follow from the play itself, constitutes its essence and determines its direct meaning? .. If we made a mistake, let them prove it to us, give a different meaning to the play, more suitable for it ... If our thoughts are consistent with the play, then we ask you to answer one more question: Is the Russian living nature exactly expressed in Katerina, is the Russian situation in all her surroundings exactly, is the need for the emerging movement of Russian life exactly reflected in the meaning of the play, as we understand it? If "no", if readers do not recognize here anything familiar, dear to their hearts, close to their urgent needs, then, of course, our work is lost. But if “yes”, if our readers, having understood our notes, will find that it is as if Russian life and Russian strength are called by the artist in The Thunderstorm to a decisive cause, and if they feel the legitimacy and importance of this matter, then we are satisfied, no matter what our learned and literary judges have spoken.
Сon amore - with passion, out of love ( ital.). From Lermontov's poem "Journalist, reader and writer". Freethinker ( French). Hypocrit ( from Greek) is a hypocrite. One of the psalms (chants) attributed to the Hebrew king David; repeatedly translated into verse by Russian poets.

“…Shortly before the Thunderstorm appeared on the stage, we analyzed in great detail all the works of Ostrovsky. Wishing to present a description of the author's talent, we then drew attention to the phenomena of Russian life reproduced in his plays, tried to catch their general character and try to find out whether the meaning of these phenomena is in reality what it appears to us in the works of our playwright. If readers have not forgotten, then we have come to the conclusion that Ostrovsky has a deep understanding of Russian life and a great ability to depict sharply and vividly its most essential aspects. "Thunderstorm" soon served as a new proof of the validity of our conclusion ... "

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The following excerpt from the book Ray of light in the dark kingdom (N. A. Dobrolyubov, 1860) provided by our book partner - the company LitRes.

(Thunderstorm, drama in five acts by A. N. Ostrovsky. St. Petersburg, 1860)

Shortly before the Thunderstorm appeared on the stage, we analyzed in great detail all the works of Ostrovsky. Wishing to present a description of the author's talent, we then drew attention to the phenomena of Russian life reproduced in his plays, tried to catch their general character and try to find out whether the meaning of these phenomena is in reality what it appears to us in the works of our playwright. If readers have not forgotten, then we came to the conclusion that Ostrovsky has a deep understanding of Russian life and a great ability to depict sharply and vividly its most essential aspects (1). "The Thunderstorm" soon served as a new proof of the validity of our conclusion. We wanted to talk about it at the same time, but we felt that we would have to repeat many of our previous considerations, and therefore decided to keep silent about Groz, leaving readers who asked for our opinion to check on it those general remarks that we spoke about Ostrovsky a few months before the appearance of this play. Our decision was even more confirmed in us when we saw that a whole series of large and small reviews appear in all magazines and newspapers about the Thunderstorm, interpreting the matter from the most diverse points of view. We thought that in this mass of articles something more would finally be said about Ostrovsky and about the significance of his plays than what we saw in the critics mentioned at the beginning of our first article on The Dark Kingdom. In this hope, and in the awareness that our own opinion about the meaning and character of Ostrovsky's works has already been expressed quite definitely, we considered it best to leave the analysis of The Thunderstorm.

But now, again meeting Ostrovsky's play in a separate edition and recalling everything that has been written about it, we find that it will not be superfluous on our part to say a few words about it. It gives us occasion to add something to our notes on The Dark Kingdom, to carry on some of the thoughts that we expressed then, and - by the way - to explain ourselves in short words to some of the critics who honored us with direct or indirect abuse.

We must do justice to some of the critics: they were able to understand the difference that separates us from them. They reproach us for adopting the bad method of considering the author's work and then, as a result of this consideration, saying what it contains and what that content is. They have a completely different method: they first tell themselves that must contained in the work (according to their concepts, of course) and to what extent all due really is in it (again, according to their concepts). It is clear that with such a difference in views, they look with indignation at our analyzes, which are likened by one of them to "searching for a moral to a fable." But we are very glad that finally the difference is open, and we are ready to withstand any kind of comparison. Yes, if you like, our method of criticism is also like finding a moral conclusion in a fable: the difference, for example, in the application to the criticism of Ostrovsky’s comedies, will only be as great as far as a comedy differs from a fable and as far as human life depicted in comedies is more important and closer to us than the life of donkeys, foxes, reeds and other characters depicted in fables. In any case, it is much better, in our opinion, to analyze the fable and say: “This is what morality it contains, and this morality seems to us good or bad, and this is why,” than to decide from the very beginning: this fable should have such and such morality (for example, respect for parents), and this is how it should be expressed (for example, in the form of a chick that disobeyed its mother and fell out of the nest); but these conditions are not met, the moral is not the same (for example, the negligence of parents about children) or is expressed in a wrong way (for example, in the example of a cuckoo leaving its eggs in other people's nests), then the fable is not good. We have seen this method of criticism more than once in the appendix to Ostrovsky, although, of course, no one will want to admit it, and we will also be blamed, from a sick head on a healthy one, that we are starting to analyze literary works with pre-adopted ideas. and requirements. And meanwhile, what is clearer, didn’t the Slavophiles say: one should portray a Russian person as virtuous and prove that the root of all goodness is life in the old days; in his first plays, Ostrovsky did not observe this, and therefore The Family Picture and His Own People are unworthy of him and are explained only by the fact that he was still imitating Gogol at that time. Didn't the Westerners shout: it is necessary to teach in comedy that superstition is harmful, and Ostrovsky saves one of his heroes from death with the ringing of bells; everyone should be taught that the true good lies in education, and Ostrovsky in his comedy dishonors the educated Vikhorev in front of the ignoramus Borodkin; it is clear that "Don't get into your sleigh" and "Don't live as you like" are bad plays. Didn't the adherents of artistry proclaim: art must serve the eternal and universal requirements of aesthetics, and Ostrovsky, in Profitable Place, reduced art to serving the miserable interests of the moment; therefore, "Profitable Place" is unworthy of art and must be counted among accusatory literature! .. Didn't Mr. Nekrasov from Moscow say: Bolshov should not arouse sympathy in us, and meanwhile the 4th act of “His People” was written in order to arouse sympathy in us for Bolshov; therefore, the fourth act is superfluous! .. (2) And Mr. Pavlov (N.F.) didn’t wriggle, making it clear such provisions: Russian folk life can provide material only for farcical performances; there are no elements in it in order to build something out of it in accordance with the "eternal" requirements of art; it is obvious, therefore, that Ostrovsky, who takes a plot from the life of the common people, is nothing more than a farcical writer ... (3) And did another Moscow critic draw such conclusions: the drama should present us with a hero imbued with lofty ideas; the heroine of The Storm, on the other hand, is all imbued with mysticism, and therefore unsuitable for drama, for she cannot arouse our sympathy; therefore, "Thunderstorm" has only the meaning of satire, and even then it is not important, and so on and so forth ... (4)

Anyone who followed what was written in our country about the Thunderstorm will easily recall a few more similar critics. It cannot be said that all of them were written by people who are completely mentally poor; how to explain the absence of a direct view of things, which strikes the impartial reader in all of them? Without any doubt, it must be attributed to the old critical routine, which remained in many minds from the study of artistic scholasticism in the courses of Koshansky, Ivan Davydov, Chistyakov and Zelenetsky. It is known that, in the opinion of these venerable theoreticians, criticism is an application to a well-known work of general laws set forth in the courses of the same theoreticians: fits the laws - excellent; does not fit - bad. As you can see, it was not badly conceived for the dying old people: as long as such a principle lives in criticism, they can be sure that they will not be considered completely backward, no matter what happens in the literary world. After all, they established the laws of beauty in their textbooks, on the basis of those works in whose beauty they believe; as long as everything new will be judged on the basis of the laws approved by them, as long as only that which is in accordance with them will be elegant and recognized, nothing new will dare to lay claim to its rights; the old people will be right in believing in Karamzin and not recognizing Gogol, as the respectable people thought to be right, who admired the imitators of Racine and scolded Shakespeare as a drunken savage, following Voltaire, or bowed before the "Messiad" and on this basis rejected "Faust". Routiners, even the most mediocre, have nothing to fear from criticism, which serves as a passive verification of the immovable rules of stupid schoolchildren, and at the same time, the most gifted writers have nothing to hope for from it if they introduce something new and original into art. They must go against all the accusations of "correct" criticism, to spite it, to make a name for themselves, to spite it, to found a school and ensure that some new theoretician begins to think with them when compiling a new code of art. Then the criticism humbly recognizes their merits; and until then, she must be in the position of the unfortunate Neapolitans at the beginning of this September - who, although they know that Garibaldi will not come to them tomorrow, but still must recognize Francis as their king, until his royal majesty is pleased to leave your capital.

We are surprised how respectable people dare to recognize such an insignificant, such a humiliating role for criticism. Indeed, by limiting it to the application of the “eternal and general” laws of art to particular and temporary phenomena, through this very thing they condemn art to immobility, and give criticism a completely commanding and police significance. And many do it from the bottom of their hearts! One of the authors, about whom we expressed our opinion, somewhat disrespectfully reminded us that a judge's disrespectful treatment of a defendant is a crime (5). O naive author! How full of the theories of Koshansky and Davydov! He takes quite seriously the vulgar metaphor that criticism is a tribunal before which authors appear as defendants! He probably also takes at face value the opinion that bad poetry is a sin against Apollo and that bad writers are punished by being drowned in the river Lethe! .. Otherwise, how can one not see the difference between a critic and a judge? People are dragged to court on suspicion of a misdemeanor or a crime, and it is up to the judge to decide whether the accused is right or wrong; Is a writer accused of anything when he is criticized? It seems that those times when the occupation of the book business was considered heresy and a crime are long gone. The critic speaks his mind whether he likes or dislikes a thing; and since it is assumed that he is not a windbag, but a reasonable person, he tries to present reasons why he considers one thing good and the other bad. He does not regard his opinion as a decisive verdict binding on all; if we take a comparison from the legal sphere, then he is more a lawyer than a judge. Having adopted a well-known point of view, which seems to him the most fair, he sets out to the readers the details of the case, as he understands it, and tries to inspire them with his conviction in favor or against the author under consideration. It goes without saying that at the same time he can use all the means he finds suitable, so long as they do not distort the essence of the matter: he can bring you to horror or tenderness, to laughter or tears, to force the author to make confessions that are unfavorable to him or to bring him to the point of being impossible to answer. The following result may come from criticism thus executed: the theoreticians, having mastered their textbooks, may nevertheless see whether the analyzed work agrees with their immovable laws, and, playing the role of judges, decide whether the author is right or wrong. But it is known that in open proceedings there are cases when those present in court are far from sympathetic to the decision that the judge pronounces in accordance with such and such articles of the code: the public conscience reveals in these cases a complete discord with the articles of the law. The same thing can happen even more often when discussing literary works: and when the critic-lawyer properly raises the question, groups the facts and throws on them the light of a certain conviction, public opinion, paying no attention to the codes of piitika, will already know what it needs. hold on.

If we look closely at the definition of criticism by "trial" over the authors, we will find that it is very reminiscent of the concept that is associated with the word "criticism" our provincial ladies and young ladies, and at whom our novelists used to laugh so wittily. Even now it is not uncommon to meet such families who look at the writer with some fear, because he "will write criticism on them." The unfortunate provincials, to whom such a thought once wandered into their heads, really represent a pitiful spectacle of the defendants, whose fate depends on the handwriting of the writer's pen. They look into his eyes, embarrassed, apologize, make reservations, as if they were really guilty, awaiting execution or mercy. But it must be said that such naive people are now beginning to emerge in the most remote backwoods. At the same time, just as the right to “dare to have one’s own opinion” ceases to be the property of only a certain rank or position, but becomes available to everyone and everyone, at the same time, more solidity and independence appear in private life, less trembling before any extraneous court. Now they are already expressing their opinion simply because it is better to declare it than to hide it, they express it because they consider it useful to exchange thoughts, recognize for everyone the right to express their views and their demands, finally, they even consider it the duty of everyone to participate in the general movement, communicating their observations. and considerations, which one can afford. From here it is a long way to the role of a judge. If I tell you that you lost your handkerchief on the way, or that you are going in the wrong direction, etc., this does not mean that you are my defendant. In the same way, I will not be your defendant even if you begin to describe me, wishing to give an idea about me to your acquaintances. Entering for the first time into a new society, I know very well that observations are being made on me and opinions are formed about me; but is it really necessary for me to imagine myself in front of some kind of Areopagus - and tremble in advance, awaiting the verdict? Without any doubt, remarks about me will be made: one will find that my nose is large, another that I have a red beard, a third that my tie is badly tied, a fourth that I am gloomy, etc. Well, let them notice, What do I care about this? After all, my red beard is not a crime, and no one can ask me for an account of how I dare to have such a big nose. So, there’s nothing for me to think about: whether I like my figure or not, this is a matter of taste, and I express my opinion about it. I can't forbid anyone; and on the other hand, it won’t hurt me if my taciturnity is noticed, if I’m really silent. Thus, the first critical work (in our sense) - noticing and pointing out facts - is done quite freely and harmlessly. Then the other work—judgment from facts—continues in the same way to keep the one who judges perfectly on equal footing with the one he is judging. This is because, in expressing his conclusion from known data, a person always subjects himself to judgment and verification of others regarding the justice and soundness of his opinion. If, for example, someone, on the basis of the fact that my tie is not tied quite elegantly, decides that I am ill-bred, then such a judge runs the risk of giving others a not very high concept of his logic. Similarly, if some critic reproaches Ostrovsky for the fact that Katerina's face in The Thunderstorm is disgusting and immoral, then he does not inspire much confidence in the purity of his own moral feeling. Thus, as long as the critic points out the facts, analyzes them and draws his own conclusions, the author is safe and the work itself is safe. Here you can only claim that when the critic distorts the facts, lies. And if he presents the matter correctly, then no matter what tone he speaks, no matter what conclusions he comes to, from his criticism, as from any free and factual reasoning, there will always be more benefit than harm - for the author himself, if he good, and in any case for literature - even if the author turns out to be bad. Criticism - not judicial, but ordinary, as we understand it - is already good in that it gives people who are not accustomed to focusing their thoughts on literature, so to speak, an extract of the writer and thereby facilitates the ability to understand the nature and meaning of his works. And as soon as the writer is properly understood, an opinion about him will not be slow to form and justice will be given to him, without any permission from the respected compilers of the codes.

True, sometimes explaining the character of a well-known author or work, the critic himself can find in the work something that is not in it at all. But in these cases the critic always betrays himself. If he takes it into his head to give the work being analyzed a thought more lively and broad than what is actually put at the foundation of its author, then, obviously, he will not be able to sufficiently confirm his idea by pointing to the work itself, and thus criticism, having shown what could If a work is analyzed, it will only show more clearly the poverty of its conception and the insufficiency of its execution. As an example of such criticism, one can point, for example, to Belinsky's analysis of "Tarantass", written with the most malicious and subtle irony; this analysis was taken by many at face value, but even these many found that the meaning given to "Tarantas" by Belinsky is very well carried out in his criticism, but with the very composition of Count Sollogub it does not go well (6) . However, such critical exaggerations are very rare. Much more often, another case is that the critic really does not understand the author being analyzed and deduces from his work something that does not follow at all. So here, too, the trouble is not great: the critic's method of reasoning will now show the reader with whom he is dealing, and if only the facts are present in the criticism, false speculation will not fool the reader. For example, one Mr. P - y, analyzing "The Thunderstorm", decided to follow the same method that we followed in the articles about the "Dark Kingdom", and, having outlined the essence of the content of the play, he began to draw conclusions. It turned out, in his opinion, that Ostrovsky in The Thunderstorm had ridiculed Katerina, wishing to disgrace Russian mysticism in her face. Well, of course, having read such a conclusion, you now see to what category of minds Mr. P - y belongs and whether it is possible to rely on his considerations. Such criticism will not confuse anyone, it is not dangerous to anyone ...

Quite another thing is the criticism that approaches the authors, as if they were peasants brought into the recruiting presence, with a uniform measure, and shouts now “forehead!”, then “back of the head!”, Depending on whether the recruit fits the measure or not. There the reprisal is short and decisive; and if you believe in the eternal laws of art printed in a textbook, then you will not turn away from such criticism. She will prove to you on the fingers that what you admire is no good, and what makes you doze off, yawn or get a migraine, this is the real treasure. Take, for example, though "Thunderstorm": what is it? A daring insult to art, nothing more - and this is very easy to prove. Open the "Readings on Literature" by the honored professor and academician Ivan Davydov, compiled by him with the help of the translation of Blair's lectures, or look at least at the Cadet Course in Literature by Mr. Plaksin - the conditions for an exemplary drama are clearly defined there. The subject of the drama must certainly be an event where we see the struggle of passion and duty, with the unfortunate consequences of the victory of passion or with happy ones when duty wins. In the development of the drama, strict unity and consistency must be observed; the denouement should flow naturally and necessarily from the tie; each scene must certainly contribute to the movement of the action and move it to a denouement; therefore, there should not be a single person in the play who would not directly and necessarily participate in the development of the drama, there should not be a single conversation that does not relate to the essence of the play. The characters of the characters must be clearly marked, and gradualness must be necessary in their discovery, in accordance with the development of the action. The language must be commensurate with the situation of each person, but not deviate from the purity of the literary and not turn into vulgarity.

Here, it seems, are all the main rules of drama. Let's apply them to the Thunderstorm.

The subject of the drama really represents the struggle in Katerina between a sense of duty of marital fidelity and passion for the young Boris Grigorievich. So the first requirement is found. But then, starting from this demand, we find that the other conditions of exemplary drama are violated in The Thunderstorm in the most cruel way.

And, firstly, The Thunderstorm does not satisfy the most essential internal goal of the drama - to inspire respect for moral duty and show the detrimental consequences of being carried away by passion. Katerina, this immoral, shameless (to use the apt expression of N. F. Pavlov) woman who ran out at night to her lover as soon as her husband left home, this criminal appears to us in the drama not only in a rather gloomy light, but even with some kind of the radiance of martyrdom around the brow. She speaks so well, she suffers so plaintively, everything around her is so bad that you have no indignation against her, you pity her, you arm yourself against her oppressors, and in this way you justify vice in her face. Consequently, the drama does not fulfill its lofty purpose and becomes, if not a harmful example, then at least an idle toy.

Further, from a purely artistic point of view, we also find very important shortcomings. The development of passion is not sufficiently represented: we do not see how Katerina's love for Boris began and intensified and what exactly motivated it; therefore, the very struggle between passion and duty is indicated for us not quite clearly and strongly.

The unity of the impression is also not observed: it is harmed by the admixture of an extraneous element - Katerina's relationship with her mother-in-law. The intervention of the mother-in-law constantly prevents us from focusing our attention on the inner struggle that should be going on in Katerina's soul.

In addition, in Ostrovsky's play we notice a mistake against the first and fundamental rules of any poetic work, unforgivable even for a novice author. This mistake is specifically called in the drama - "duality of intrigue": here we see not one love, but two - Katerina's love for Boris and Varvara's love for Kudryash (7). This is good only in light French vaudeville, and not in serious drama, where the attention of the audience should not be entertained in any way.

The plot and denouement also sin against the requirements of art. The plot is in a simple case - in the departure of the husband; the denouement is also completely accidental and arbitrary: this thunderstorm, which frightened Katerina and forced her to tell her husband everything, is nothing but a deus ex machina, no worse than a vaudeville uncle from America.

The whole action is sluggish and slow, because it is cluttered with scenes and faces that are completely unnecessary. Kudryash and Shapkin, Kuligin, Feklusha, the lady with two lackeys, Dikoy himself - all these are persons who are not essentially connected with the basis of the play. Unnecessary faces constantly enter the stage, say things that do not go to the point, and leave, again it is not known why and where. All the recitations of Kuligin, all the antics of Kudryash and Dikiy, not to mention the half-mad lady and the conversations of city dwellers during a thunderstorm, could have been released without any damage to the essence of the matter.

In this crowd of unnecessary faces, we almost do not find strictly defined and finished characters, and there is nothing to ask about the gradualness in their discovery. They appear to us directly ex abrupto, with labels. The curtain opens: Kudryash and Kuligin talk about what a scolder Dikaya is, after that he is also Dikaya and swears behind the scenes ... Also Kabanova. In the same way, Kudryash from the first word makes himself known that he is "dashing at girls"; and Kuligin, at the very appearance, is recommended as a self-taught mechanic who admires nature. Yes, they remain with this until the very end: Dikoi swears, Kabanova grumbles, Kudryash walks at night with Varvara ... And we do not see the full comprehensive development of their characters in the whole play. The heroine herself is depicted very unsuccessfully: apparently, the author himself did not quite clearly understand this character, because, without exposing Katerina as a hypocrite, he forces her, however, to utter sensitive monologues, but in fact shows her to us as a shameless woman, carried away by sensuality alone. There is nothing to say about the hero - he is so colorless. Dikoi and Kabanova themselves, the characters most in the genre "e of Mr. Ostrovsky, represent (according to the happy conclusion of Mr. Akhsharumov or someone else of that kind) (8) a deliberate exaggeration, close to libel, and give us not living faces, but "the quintessence of deformities" of Russian life.

Finally, the language with which the characters speak surpasses all patience of a well-bred person. Of course, merchants and philistines cannot speak in elegant literary language; but after all, one cannot agree that a dramatic author, for the sake of fidelity, can introduce into literature all the vulgar expressions in which the Russian people are so rich. The language of dramatic characters, whoever they may be, may be simple, but always noble and should not offend educated taste. And in Groz, listen to how all the faces say: “Shrill man! what are you doing with a snout! It kindles the whole interior! Women can’t work up their bodies in any way! ” What are these phrases, what are these words? Involuntarily, you will repeat with Lermontov:

From whom do they paint portraits?

Where are these conversations being heard?

And if they did,

So we do not want to listen to them (9).

Perhaps "in the city of Kalinovo, on the banks of the Volga," there are people who speak in this way, but what do we care about that? The reader understands that we did not use special efforts to make this criticism convincing; that is why it is easy to notice in other places the living threads with which it is sewn. But we assure you that it can be made extremely convincing and victorious, it can be used to destroy the author, once taking the point of view of school textbooks. And if the reader agrees to give us the right to proceed with the play with prearranged requirements as to what and how in it must to be - we do not need anything else: everything that does not agree with the rules adopted by us, we will be able to destroy. Extracts from the comedy will appear very conscientiously to confirm our judgments; quotations from various learned books, beginning with Aristotle and ending with Fischer (10), which, as you know, constitute the last, final moment of aesthetic theory, will prove to you the solidity of our education; ease of presentation and wit will help us to captivate your attention, and you, without noticing it, will come to full agreement with us. Only let not for a moment a doubt enter your head in our full right to prescribe duties to the author and then judge him, whether he is faithful to these duties or has been guilty of them ...

But herein lies the misfortune that not a single reader can now escape such a doubt. The contemptible crowd, which previously reverently, open-mouthed, listening to our broadcasts, now presents a deplorable and dangerous spectacle for our authority of the masses, armed, in the beautiful expression of Mr. Turgenev, with the "double-edged sword of analysis" (11). Everyone says, reading our thunderous criticism: “You offer us your “storm”, assuring us that what is in The Thunderstorm is superfluous, and what is needed is lacking. But the author of The Thunderstorm probably thinks quite the contrary; let us sort you out. Tell us, analyze the play for us, show it as it is, and give us your opinion about it on the basis of itself, and not on some outdated considerations, completely unnecessary and extraneous. In your opinion, this and that should not be; or maybe it fits well in the play, so then why shouldn’t it?” This is how any reader now dares to resonate, and this insulting circumstance must be attributed to the fact that, for example, N. F. Pavlov's magnificent critical exercises on The Thunderstorm suffered such a decisive fiasco. In fact, everyone rose up against the criticism of The Thunderstorm in Nashe Vremya - both writers and the public, and, of course, not because he took it into his head to show a lack of respect for Ostrovsky, but because in his criticism he expressed disrespect to the common sense and good will of the Russian public. Everyone has long seen that Ostrovsky has in many respects moved away from the old stage routine, that in the very conception of each of his plays there are conditions that necessarily carry him beyond the bounds of the well-known theory that we pointed out above. The critic who does not like these deviations should have begun by noting them, characterizing them, generalizing them, and then directly and frankly raising the question between them and the old theory. This was the duty of the critic not only to the author being analyzed, but even more so to the public, which so constantly approves of Ostrovsky, with all his liberties and evasions, and with each new play becomes more and more attached to him. If the critic finds that the public is deluded in their sympathy for an author who turns out to be a criminal against his theory, then he should have begun by defending that theory and by giving serious evidence that deviations from it cannot be good. Then he, perhaps, would have managed to convince some and even many, since N. F. Pavlov cannot be taken away from the fact that he uses the phrase quite adroitly. And now what did he do? He did not pay the slightest attention to the fact that the old laws of art, while continuing to exist in textbooks and taught from gymnasium and university departments, had long since lost their sanctity of inviolability in literature and in the public. He boldly began to break down Ostrovsky on the points of his theory, by force, forcing the reader to consider it inviolable. He found it convenient only to sneer about the gentleman, who, being Mr. Pavlov’s “neighbor and brother” in terms of his place in the first row of seats and in terms of “fresh” gloves, dared, however, to admire the play, which was so disgusting to N. F. Pavlov. Such a contemptuous treatment of the public, and indeed of the very question which the critic took up, naturally must have aroused the majority of readers rather against him than in his favour. Readers let the critics notice that he was spinning with his theory like a squirrel in a wheel, and demanded that he get out of the wheel onto a straight road. Rounded phrase and clever syllogism seemed to them insufficient; they demanded serious confirmations for the very premises from which Mr. Pavlov drew his conclusions and which he presented as axioms. He said: this is bad, because there are many characters in the play that do not contribute to the direct development of the course of action. And they stubbornly objected to him: why can't there be persons in the play who do not directly participate in the development of the drama? The critic assured that the drama is already devoid of meaning because its heroine is immoral; readers stopped him and asked the question: what makes you think that she is immoral? And what are your moral concepts based on? The critic considered vulgarity and smut, unworthy of art, and the night meeting, and Kudryash's daring whistle, and the very scene of Katerina's confession to her husband; he was again asked: why exactly does he find this vulgar and why secular intrigues and aristocratic passions are more worthy of art than petty-bourgeois passions? Why is the whistling of a young lad more vulgar than the poignant singing of Italian arias by some secular youth? N. F. Pavlov, as the top of his arguments, decided condescendingly that a play like The Thunderstorm was not a drama, but a farcical performance. And then they answered him: why are you so contemptuous of the booth? Another question is whether any slick drama, even if all three unities were observed in it, is better than any farcical performance. Regarding the role of the booth in the history of the theater and in the development of the people, we will argue with you. The last objection has been developed in some detail in the press. And where was it distributed? It would be nice in Sovremennik, which, as you know, has a Whistle with him, therefore he cannot scandalize with Kudryash's whistle and in general should be inclined to any farce. No, thoughts about the farce were expressed in the "Library for Reading", a well-known champion of all the rights of "art", expressed by Mr. Annenkov, whom no one will reproach for excessive adherence to "vulgarity" (12). If we have correctly understood Mr. Annenkov's thought (for which, of course, no one can vouch for), he finds that modern drama with its theory has deviated further from the truth and beauty of life than the original booths, and that in order to revive the theater, it is necessary first to return to farce and start the path of dramatic development again. These are the opinions that Mr. Pavlov came across even in respectable representatives of Russian criticism, not to mention those who are accused by well-meaning people of contempt for science and of the denial of everything lofty! It is clear that here it was no longer possible to get away with more or less brilliant remarks, but it was necessary to begin a serious revision of the grounds on which the critic was affirmed in his sentences. But as soon as the question moved to this ground, the critic of Nashe Vremya turned out to be untenable and had to hush up his critical rantings.

Obviously, criticism, which becomes an ally of scholars and takes upon itself the revision of literary works according to the paragraphs of textbooks, must very often put itself in such a pitiful position: having condemned itself to slavery to the prevailing theory, it dooms itself, at the same time, to constant fruitless enmity towards everyone. progress, to everything new and original in literature. And the stronger the new literary movement, the more it becomes bitter against it and the more clearly it shows its toothless impotence. Looking for some kind of dead perfection, exposing us to obsolete, indifferent ideals for us, throwing fragments at us, torn off from the beautiful whole, adherents of such criticism constantly remain aloof from the living movement, close their eyes to the new, living beauty, do not want to understand the new truth. , the result of a new course of life. They look down on everything, they judge strictly, they are ready to blame any author for not being equal to their chefs-d'oeuvre's, and impudently disregard the author's living relationship to his public and to his era. This is all, you see, "the interests of the moment" - is it possible for serious critics to compromise art by being carried away by such interests! Poor, soulless people! how pitiful they are in the eyes of a person who knows how to cherish the work of life, its labors and blessings! An ordinary, sane person takes from life what it gives him and gives it what he can; but pedants always take things down and paralyze life with dead ideals and distractions. Tell me what to think of a man who, at the sight of a pretty woman, suddenly begins to resonate that her body is not the same as that of the Venus de Milo, the outline of the mouth is not as good as that of the Venus de Medicea, the look does not have the expression that we find in the Raphael Madonnas, etc., etc. All the arguments and comparisons of such a gentleman can be very fair and witty, but what can they lead to? Will they prove to you that the woman in question is not pretty? Are they even able to convince you that this woman is less good than this or that Venus? Of course not, because beauty does not lie in individual features and lines, but in the general expression of the face, in the vital sense that manifests itself in it. When this expression pleases me; when this sense is available and satisfactory to me, then I simply give myself up to beauty with all my heart and sense, without making any dead comparisons, without making claims sanctified by the traditions of art. And if you want to have a living effect on me, you want to make me fall in love with beauty, then be able to catch in it this general meaning, this spirit of life, be able to point it out and explain it to me: only then will you achieve your goal. The same is true with truth: it is not in dialectical subtleties, not in the correctness of individual conclusions, but in the living truth of what you argue about. Let me understand the nature of the phenomenon, its place among others, its meaning and significance in the general course of life, and believe that in this way you will lead me to a correct judgment about the matter much more accurately than by means of all sorts of syllogisms chosen to prove your thought. If ignorance and gullibility are still so strong in people, this is supported by the very way of critical reasoning that we attack. Everywhere and in everything synthesis prevails; they say in advance: this is useful, and they rush in all directions to tidy up arguments why it is useful; they stun you with a maxim: this is what morality should be, and then they condemn as immoral everything that does not fit the maxim. In this way, human meaning is constantly distorted, the desire and the opportunity to reason for each person are taken away. It would not turn out at all if people were accustomed to the analytical method of judgments: here is the matter, here are its consequences, here are its advantages and disadvantages; weigh and judge to what extent it will be useful. Then people would always have data before them and in their judgments would proceed from facts, not wandering in synthetic fogs, not binding themselves with abstract theories and ideals, once composed by someone. To achieve this, it is necessary that all people should be willing to live by their own mind, and not rely on someone else's guardianship. This, of course, will not soon await us in humanity. But that small part of the people that we call the "reading public" gives us the right to think that this desire for an independent intellectual life has already awakened in them. Therefore, we consider it very inconvenient to treat her haughtily and arrogantly throw her maxims and sentences based on God knows what theories. We believe that the best way of criticism is to present the case itself in such a way that the reader himself, on the basis of the facts presented, can draw his own conclusion. We group data, make considerations about the general meaning of the work, indicate its relation to the reality in which we live, draw our conclusion and try to frame it in the best possible way, but at the same time we always try to behave in such a way that the reader can pronounce his judgment quite conveniently. between us and the author. We have more than once taken reproaches for some ironic analysis: “From your own extracts and presentation of the content, it is clear that this author is bad or harmful,” we were told, “and you praise him, shame on you.” We admit that such reproaches did not upset us in the least: the reader received a not entirely flattering opinion about our critical ability, it is true; but our main goal was nevertheless achieved - a worthless book (which sometimes we could not directly condemn) seemed worthless to the reader thanks to the facts exposed before his eyes. And we have always been of the opinion that only factual, real criticism can have any meaning for the reader. If there is anything in the work, then show us what it contains; this is much better than indulging in considerations about what is not in it and what should be in it.

Of course, there are general concepts and laws that every person certainly has in mind when discussing any subject. But one must distinguish between these natural laws, arising from the very essence of the matter, from the regulations and rules established in some system. There are well-known axioms without which thinking is impossible, and every author presupposes them in his reader just as every speaker assumes in his interlocutor. It is enough to say of a man that he is a hunchback or a scythe, for everyone to see in this a disadvantage, and not an advantage of his organization. So it is enough to notice that such and such a literary work is illiterate or full of lies for no one to consider this a virtue. But when you say that a man wears a cap and not a hat, this is still not enough for me to get a bad opinion about him, although it is customary in a certain circle that a decent person should not wear a cap. So it is in a literary work - if you find that some unities are not observed or you see faces that are not necessary for the development of intrigues, this still says nothing to the reader who is not prejudiced in favor of your theory. On the contrary, what must appear to every reader as a violation of the natural order of things and an insult to simple common sense, I can consider as not requiring refutation from me, assuming that these refutations will automatically appear in the mind of the reader, at my mere pointing to the fact. But such an assumption must never be carried too far. Critics like N. F. Pavlov, Mr. Nekrasov from Moscow, Mr. Palkhovsky, etc., especially sin because they assume unconditional agreement between themselves and the general opinion on a much larger number of points than they should. In other words, they consider as immutable, obvious to all axioms a lot of such opinions that only they seem to be absolute truths, and for most people they even represent a contradiction with some generally accepted concepts. For example, it is clear to anyone that an author who wants to do something decent must not distort reality: both theorists and general opinion agree on this requirement. But theorists at the same time demand and also believe as an axiom that the author must improve reality, discarding everything unnecessary from it and choosing only what is specifically required for the development of intrigue and for the denouement of the work. In accordance with this second requirement, Ostrovsky was attacked many times with great fury; and meanwhile, it is not only not an axiom, but is even in clear contradiction with the requirement regarding the fidelity of real life, which is recognized by everyone as necessary. How can you really make me believe that in the course of a half hour, ten people come one after another into one room or one place on the square, exactly those who are needed, exactly at the time they are needed here, they meet whom they need, start an ex abrupto conversation about what they need, leave and do what they need, then reappear when they are needed. Is it done this way in life, does it look like the truth? Who does not know that the most difficult thing in life is to adjust one favorable circumstance to another, to arrange the course of affairs in accordance with logical necessity. Usually a person knows what to do, but he cannot spend so much money in order to direct all the means that a writer so easily disposes of to his work. The right people don't come, the letters don't come through, the conversations don't go in the right direction to move things forward. Everyone has many things to do in life, and rarely, as in our dramas, does anyone serve as a machine that the author moves, as it suits him for the action of his play. The same must be said about the plot with the denouement. How many cases do we see which at their end represent the pure, logical development of the beginning? In history, we can still notice this through the ages; but not in private life. It is true that the historical laws are the same here, but the difference is in distance and size. Speaking absolutely and taking infinitesimal quantities into consideration, we will of course find that the ball is the same polygon; but try to play billiards with polygons - it will not work out at all. Similarly, the historical laws of logical development and necessary retribution are presented in the incidents of private life far from being as clear and complete as in the history of peoples. To give them this clarity on purpose means to force and distort the existing reality. As if, in fact, every crime carries its own punishment in itself? As if it is always accompanied by torments of conscience, if not external execution?

As if frugality always leads to prosperity, honesty is rewarded with general respect, doubt finds its solution, virtue brings inner contentment? Don’t we see the opposite more often, although, on the other hand, the opposite cannot be affirmed as a general rule... It cannot be said that people are evil by nature, and therefore it is impossible to accept principles for literary works such as, for example, vice always triumphs, and virtue is punished. But it has become impossible, even ridiculous, to build dramas on the triumph of virtue! The fact is that human relationships are rarely arranged on the basis of reasonable calculation, but are mostly formed by chance, and then a significant proportion of the actions of some with others are performed, as it were, unconsciously, according to a routine, according to a momentary arrangement, due to the influence of many extraneous reasons. The author, who dares to cast aside all these accidents in favor of the logical requirements of the development of the plot, usually loses the average measure and becomes like a person who measures everything to the maximum. For example, he found that a person can, without immediate harm to himself, work fifteen hours a day, and on this calculation he bases his demands on the people who work for him. It goes without saying that this calculation, which is possible for emergency cases, for two or three days, turns out to be completely absurd as the norm of constant work. The logical development of everyday relations, required by theory from the drama, often turns out to be the same.

We will be told that we fall into the denial of all creativity and do not recognize art except in the form of a daguerreotype. Still more, we will be asked to carry our opinions further and reach their extreme results, that is, that the dramatic author, having no right to discard anything and adjust anything on purpose for his goal, finds himself in the need to simply write down all the unnecessary conversations of all the people he meets, so that an action that lasted a week would require the same week in the drama to be presented at the theatre, while another event would require the presence of all the thousands of people strolling along Nevsky Prospekt or along the English Embankment. Yes, it will have to be so, if the highest criterion in the literature is still that theory, the provisions of which we have just disputed. But we are not heading towards that at all; we do not want to correct two or three points of the theory; no, with such corrections it will be even worse, more confusing and contradictory; we just don't want it at all. We have other grounds for judging the worth of authors and works, on the basis of which we hope not to come to any absurdities and not to disagree with the common sense of the masses of the public. We have already spoken of these grounds both in the first articles on Ostrovsky and later in the article on "On the Eve"; but it may be necessary to recapitulate them once again.

As a measure of the dignity of a writer or an individual work, we take the extent to which they serve as an expression of the natural aspirations of a certain time and people. The natural aspirations of mankind, reduced to the simplest denominator, can be expressed in a nutshell: "So that everyone is well." It is clear that, striving for this goal, people, by the very essence of the matter, first had to move away from it: everyone wanted it to be good for him, and, asserting his own good, interfered with others; to arrange themselves in such a way that one does not interfere with the other, they still did not know how. So inexperienced dancers do not know how to manage their movements and constantly collide with other couples, even in a rather spacious hall. After getting used to it, they will begin to diverge better even in a smaller hall and with a larger number of dancers. But until they have acquired dexterity, until then, of course, it is impossible to allow many couples to waltz in the hall; in order not to fight each other, it is necessary for many to wait out, and the most awkward ones to completely abandon dancing and, perhaps, sit down at cards, lose, and even a lot ... So it was in the structure of life: the more dexterous continued to seek their good, others sat , taken for what they should not have lost; the common celebration of life was violated from the very beginning; many were not up to fun; many came to the conclusion that only those who are deftly dancing are called to fun. And the dexterous dancers, having arranged their well-being, continued to follow the natural inclination and took away more and more space for themselves, more and more means for fun. Finally they lost their measure; the rest became very crowded from them, and they jumped up from their seats and jumped - no longer because they wanted to dance, but simply because they even felt uncomfortable to sit. Meanwhile, in this movement, it turned out that among them there are people who are not devoid of some lightness - and they tried to join the circle of those having fun. But the privileged, original dancers looked at them very hostilely, as if they were uninvited, and did not let them into the circle. A struggle began, varied, long, mostly unfavorable for the newcomers: they were ridiculed, repulsed, they were condemned to pay the expenses of the holiday, their ladies were taken away from them, and from the ladies of the gentlemen, they were completely driven away from the holiday. But the worse it gets for people, the more they feel the need to feel good. Deprivation does not stop demands, but only irritates; only eating can satisfy hunger. Until now, therefore, the struggle is not over; natural aspirations, now as if drowning out, now appearing stronger, everyone seeks their satisfaction. This is the essence of history.

End of introductory segment.