On the western front, no change remark. Erich Maria Remarque

Savitsky, having started six, got up when he saw me, and I was surprised at the beauty of his gigantic body. He stood up and, with the purple of his breeches, his crimson cap knocked to one side, and the orders hammered into his chest, cut the hut in half, as a standard cuts the sky. He smelled of perfume and the cloying coolness of soap. His long legs looked like girls, clad to the shoulders in shiny boots.

He smiled at me, hit the table with his whip, and pulled towards him the order that had just been dictated by the Chief of Staff. It was an order to Ivan Chesnokov to set out with the regiment entrusted to him in the direction of Chugunov - Dobryvodka and, having come into contact with the enemy, to destroy such ...

“... What destruction,” the division commander began to write and smeared the entire sheet, “I place the responsibility of the same Chesnokov up to the highest measure, whom I will slap on the spot, in which you, Comrade Chesnokov, having been working with me at the front for more than a month, cannot doubt…"

Having started six, he signed the order with a curlicue, threw it to the orderlies and turned his gray eyes to me, in which merriment danced.

I gave him a paper about seconding me to the headquarters of the division.

Carry out the order! - said the chief. - Carry out by order and enroll for any pleasure, except for the front one. Are you literate?

Competent, - I answered, envying the iron and flowers of this youth, - Candidate of Laws of St. Petersburg University ...

You are from kinderbalms, - he shouted, laughing, - and glasses on his nose. What a lousy one! .. They send you without asking, but here they cut you for glasses. You will live with us, right?

I'll live, - I answered and went with the lodger to the village to look for an overnight stay.

The lodger carried my chest on his shoulders, the village street lay before us, round and yellow like a pumpkin, the dying sun emitted its pink spirit in the sky.

We went up to the hut with painted crowns, the lodger stopped and suddenly said with a guilty smile:

The gimp here with our glasses and cannot be appeased. A man of the highest distinction - the soul is out of him here. And if you spoil a lady, the cleanest lady, then you will get caress from the fighters ...

He hesitated with my chest on his shoulders, came very close to me, then jumped back in despair and ran into the first courtyard. The Cossacks sat there on the hay and shaved each other.

Here, fighters, - said the lodger and put my chest on the ground. “According to the order of Comrade Savitsky, you are obliged to take this person to your premises and without stupidity, because this person has suffered from the scientific part ...

The quartermaster turned purple and went away without looking back. I put my hand to the visor and saluted the Cossacks. A young lad with flaxen hair and a beautiful Ryazan face came up to my chest and threw it out of the gate. Then he turned his back to me and, with particular dexterity, began to make shameful sounds.

Guns number two zeros, - the older Cossack shouted to him and laughed, - the cut is runaway ...

The guy exhausted his simple skill and walked away. Then, crawling along the ground, I began to collect manuscripts and my holey cast-offs that had fallen out of the chest. I gathered them up and carried them to the other end of the yard. By the hut, on the bricks, there was a cauldron, pork was cooked in it, it smoked, as it smokes from afar native home in the village, and confused hunger in me with loneliness without an example. I covered my broken chest with hay, made a headboard out of it, and lay down on the ground to read Lenin's speech at the Second Congress of the Comintern in Pravda. The sun fell on me from behind the jagged hillocks, the Cossacks walked on my feet, the guy made fun of me tirelessly, my favorite lines went to me on a thorny road and could not reach. Then I put down the newspaper and went to the hostess, who was spinning yarn on the porch.

Mistress, - I said, - I need to eat ...

The old woman raised the spilled whites of her half-blind eyes to me and lowered them again.

Comrade,” she said after a pause, “from these deeds I want to hang myself.

Lord God, mother’s soul, ”I then muttered with annoyance, and pushed the old woman in the chest with my fist,“ I’m talking to you here ...

And, turning away, I saw someone else's saber lying nearby. A strict goose staggered around the yard and serenely cleaned its feathers. I caught up with him and bent him to the ground, the goose head cracked under my boot, cracked and flowed. The white neck was spread out in the dung, and the wings hovered over the dead bird.

Lord God soul mother! I said, digging into the goose with my saber. - Roast it for me, mistress.

The old woman, shining with blindness and spectacles, picked up the bird, wrapped it in an apron, and dragged it toward the kitchen.

Comrade,” she said after a pause, “I want to hang myself,” and closed the door behind her.

And in the yard the Cossacks were already sitting around their bowler hat. They sat motionless, straight as priests, and did not look at the goose.

The guy is suitable for us, - one of them said about me, blinked and scooped up cabbage soup with a spoon.

The Cossacks began to dine with the restrained elegance of peasants who respect each other, and I wiped my saber with sand, went out the gate and returned again, languishing. The moon hung over the yard like a cheap earring.

Brother, - Surovkov, the eldest of the Cossacks, suddenly said to me, - sit down to eat with us, until your goose is ripe ...

He took a spare spoon from his boot and handed it to me. We ate homemade cabbage soup and pork.

What do they write in the newspaper? - asked the guy with the flaxen hair and made me a place.

Lenin writes in the newspaper, - I said, pulling out Pravda, - Lenin writes that we lack everything in everything ...

And loudly, like a triumphant deaf man, I read Lenin's speech to the Cossacks.

The evening wrapped me in the life-giving moisture of its twilight sheets, the evening put its motherly palms to my burning forehead.

I read and rejoiced and lay in wait, rejoicing, for the mysterious curve of Lenin's straight line.

The truth tickles every nostril,” Surovkov said when I had finished, “but how to get it out of the heap, and he hits it right away, like a chicken on a grain.

Surovkov, a platoon commander of the headquarters squadron, said this about Lenin, and then we went to sleep in the hayloft. Six of us slept there, warm from each other, legs tangled, under a leaky roof that let the stars through.

I saw dreams and women in my dreams, and only my heart, stained with murder, creaked and flowed.

End of work -

This topic belongs to:

Isaak Emmanuilovich Babel. Cavalry

On the website, read: "Isaac Emmanuilovich Babel. Cavalry"

If you need additional material on this topic, or you did not find what you were looking for, we recommend using the search in our database of works:

What will we do with the received material:

If this material turned out to be useful for you, you can save it to your page on social networks:

All topics in this section:

Crossing the Zbruch
The commander of six reported that Novograd-Volynsk was taken today at dawn. The headquarters set out from Krapivno, and our wagon train stretched out like a noisy rearguard along the highway going from Brest to Warsaw.

Church in Novograd
Yesterday I went with a report to the military commissar, who was staying at the house of a fugitive priest. Pani Eliza, the Jesuit's housekeeper, met me in the kitchen. She gave me amber tea with biscuits. Bee

Chief of stock
There is a groan in the village. The cavalry poisons the bread and changes horses. In exchange for the nags that have stuck, the cavalrymen take the working cattle. There is no one to scold here. There is no army without a horse. But the cross

Pan Apolek
The charming and wise life of Pan Apolek hit me in the head like old wine. In Novograd-Volynsk, in a hastily crumpled city, among the twisted ruins, fate threw a Ukrainian at my feet.

Sun of Italy
Yesterday I again sat in the servants' room at Pani Eliza's under a heated crown of green spruce branches. I sat by the warm, lively, grumbling stove and then returned to my room in the dead of night. Below, at arr.

Path to Brody
I mourn for the bees. They are tormented by warring armies. There are no more bees in Volhynia. We have defiled the hives. We stained them with sulfur and blew them up with gunpowder. The fuming rags emitted a stench

The doctrine of the cart
I was sent from the headquarters of a coachman, or, as we say, a cart driver. His last name is Grischuk. He is thirty nine years old. He spent five years in German captivity, several

Dolgushov's death
The veils of battle advanced towards the city. At noon, Korochaev flew past us in a black burqa - a disgraced commander of four, fighting alone and looking for death. He called out to me as I ran:

brigade commander two
Budyonny in red trousers with a silver stripe stood by a tree. Two brigade commanders have just been killed. In his place, the army commander appointed Kolesnikov. An hour ago Kolesnikov was

Sasha Christ
Sasha - that was his name, and they called him Christ for his meekness. He was a public shepherd in the village and had not worked hard work since the age of fourteen, from the time when he fell ill with a bad disease.

Biography of Pavlichenko, Matvey Rodionich
Countrymen, comrades, my dear brothers! So, in the name of humanity, realize the biography of the Red General Matvei Pavlichenko. He was a shepherd, that general, a shepherd in the estate of Lidino,

Cemetery in Kozin
Cemetery in a Jewish town. Assyria and the mysterious decay of the East in the Volyn fields overgrown with weeds. Turned gray stones with three hundred years of writing. Rough embossed

Prishchepa
I make my way to Leszniow, where the division headquarters is located. My fellow traveler is still Prishchepa - a young Kuban, an untiring boor, a cleaned out communist, a future hoarder, a careless sifi

History of one horse
Savitsky, our division commander, once took a white stallion from Khlebnikov, the commander of the first squadron. It was a horse of a magnificent exterior, but with raw forms, which then seemed to me

Berestechko
We made the transition from Khotyn to Berestechko. The soldiers dozed in high saddles. The song gurgled like a running dry stream. Monstrous corpses littered the thousand-year-old burial mounds. Men in white

Afonka Bida
We fought near Leshniv. A wall of enemy cavalry appeared everywhere. The spring of the strengthened Polish strategy was stretched with an ominous whistle. We were pressed. For the first time in the entire campaign

At St. Valens
Our division occupied Berestechko last night. The headquarters stopped at the house of priest Tuzinkevich. Disguised as a woman, Tuzinkevich fled from Berestechko before the entry of our troops. About him I

Squadron Trunov
At noon we brought to Sokal the body of Trunov, our squadron commander, shot through. He was killed in the morning in combat with enemy airplanes. All hits from Trunov were in the face,

Continuation of the story of one horse
Four months ago, Savitsky, our former Divisional Commander, took a white stallion from Khlebnikov, the commander of the first squadron. Khlebnikov then left the army, and today Savitsky received

Zamosc
The head of the division and his headquarters lay on a mowed field three versts from Zamostye. The troops were to attack the city at night. The army order demanded that we spend the night in Zamostye, and the commander waited

Chesniki
The 6th division gathered in the forest near the village of Chesniki and waited for the signal to attack. But Pavlichenko, having started six, was waiting for the second brigade and did not give a signal. Then Vo drove up to the division chief

After battle
The story of my feud with Akinfiev is as follows. On the thirty-first, there was an attack at Chesniki. Squadrons accumulated in the forest near the village and at six o'clock in the evening rushed to the

Rabbi's son
… Do you remember Zhytomyr, Vasily? Do you remember Grouse, Vasily, and that night when Saturday, young Saturday crept along the sunset, crushing the stars with a red heel? Slim R

Argamak
I decided to go into action. The chief grimaced when he heard about this. - Where are you going? .. If you hang your lips - you will be countered at once ... I insisted on my own. This is not enough. Choice of mo

Kiss
In early August, the army headquarters sent us to Budyatichi for reorganization. Captured by the Poles at the beginning of the war, it was soon recaptured by us. The brigade was drawn into the town at dawn

There were nine
Nine prisoners are dead. I know it with my heart. When Golov, a platoon commander from the Sormovo workers, killed a long Pole, I said to the chief of staff: - An example of a platoon

The Cavalry of I. E. Babel is a collection short stories related civil war and in the same way as the narrator. Cavalry written on the basis of Babel's diaries when he fought in the First Cavalry Army. Babel himself fought under the name of Lyutov. Based on this, we can conclude that main character expresses the worldview of Babel himself. On closer examination, the diary and stories turn out to be dissimilar. But this can be understood. The form of the removal of the author of the Diary from reality, dictated in the situation of civil war by the need for self-preservation, in the Cavalry turns into an aesthetic device that makes it possible, on the one hand, to expose the rudeness and barbarism of the Cossacks, and on the other hand, to emphasize the alienation of the Jewish intellectual, who is trying to live in an alien , monstrously cruel life Novella My first goose. Like most of the short stories in this collection, it was written in the first person by Kirill Vasilievich Lyutov.

The author exposes the rudeness and barbarism of the Cossacks, accentuates the alienation of the Jewish intellectual, who is trying to live in an alien, monstrously cruel life.This can be seen literally from the very first lines of the story Are you literate? asked Savitsky, and found out that Lyutov was a competent candidate for the rights of St. Petersburg University, and yet this was an army of working peasants. He is a stranger. Then, when he shouted to him You are made of kinderbalms and glasses on his nose, when he exclaimed laughing Send you without asking, and then they cut you for glasses Babel was accurate in depicting how class hatred accumulated for centuries coarsens human behavior.

Lyutov humbly and obediently bows before the Cossacks.

The author portrayed his behavior with irony. There is something feminine in his fear. Feeling that he is a stranger here, Lyutov wants to become his own. To achieve this goal, he dispassionately kills a goose. When the victory seemed to be achieved, when the Cossacks finally say the guy is suitable for us - Lyutov, triumphantly, reads a speech to them in the newspaper, there is a feeling that his victory is somehow strange, incomplete. Six of us slept there, warming ourselves from each other. The conflict here is external, and only at the end of the story it becomes clear that dispassion is imaginary.

And in the soul of the hero there is languor, inner heat, a burning forehead. And only the heart, stained with murder, creaked and flowed, the head of the murdered goose was flowing under the soldier's boot. This is the accompaniment of any war. And it needs to be experienced. There is a distance between Lyutov and the Red Army men. There is still something human left in him. This explains the high style of the finale. There is no future in the hero's value system.

There is only the present. All life is like a pulsating experience. Perhaps that is why life is so important, and death is so tragic. Babel's world, in essence, the simplest universal human relations revealed in it, is tragic - due to the constant intervention of death during life. Babel's landscape is unusual. the village street lay in front, round and yellow as a gourd, the dying sun emitting its pink spirit in the sky. The landscape is given two contradictory tones of heat and all-destroying death.

The sun is in motion. The relationship between heaven and earth is absolutely independent of each other. So it turns out that the state of the hero is contradictory. After all, he does this act regardless of his internal state. The sun fell on me from jagged hillocks. The relationship here between the heavenly and earthly faces again appears in an unusual form. The movement of the sun is vertical. And this verticality seems to leave no choice for the protagonist with its straightforwardness. So, it seems to me, the landscape is directly connected with the actions of the hero. The plot, however, as such, Babel deliberately builds the plot on the vision of the world, reflecting mainly the consciousness of one person - Lyutov .

Thus, the author of the Cavalry frees himself from the need to motivate what is happening and, more importantly, from revealing the logic of the actual military events - for a book about the war, the Cavalry contains surprisingly little plot action as such. immediacy, suddenness, fragmentary actions and lack of connection between them. To show the value of life.

He achieves this by using perfective verbs, especially - in stylistically neutral verbs he shouted, shouted, said. It can be intensified by the word suddenly, which is most often used next to neutral verbs of speech. At times actions are senseless and ragged, he came very close to me, then jumped back in despair and ran to the first courtyard. The entire internally confused state of a person is expressed here in action, and the observer-author, without explaining anything, mechanically restores the sequence of these crazy steps and gestures, logically unrelated to each other.

Everything seems to be built according to the scheme of brevity. The structure of Babel's style is the representation of the living world as something fragmented and torn off; there is no integrity in it. The narration is conducted in a literary language. Nevertheless, the stylistic pattern of the verbal form is motley and discordant.

In many ways, the Cossacks contribute to this, introducing natural living speech into the conversation, you must accept this person into your room and without stupidity, because this person suffered from the scientific part. understanding the meaning of this bloody struggle. In the descriptions of events there is a cruel truth of the mighty bloody stream of life.

What will we do with the received material:

If this material turned out to be useful to you, you can save it to your page on social networks:

More essays, term papers, theses on this topic:

"Cavalry". Analysis of Babel's short story "My First Goose"
The author exposes the rudeness and barbarism of the Cossacks, accentuates the alienation of the Jewish intellectual, who is trying to live in an alien, monstrously cruel .. Lyutov humbly and meekly bows before the Cossacks. The author portrayed his behavior with irony. There is something feminine in his fear. Feeling that he is a stranger here, Lyutov ..

Analysis of the short story "Treason" from Babel's work "Cavalry"
In the short story, as well as throughout the entire novel, the problem of Babel's realism is raised - violence and social legality, proletarian dictatorship and .. The novella is written in very heavy language, both psychological and .. As you know, the truth hurts the eyes!

Essay about my first computer
Then I occasionally approached him. But after a few months, my friend gave me a collection of programs called Microsoft Office, I suffered a little over .. And then my friends and I signed up for study courses operating system.. Later I wanted to know what was inside this computer and I removed the cover from the system unit and there was nothing interesting there ..

Thermal analysis. Analysis of phase diagrams of binary alloys
On the site site read: thermal analysis. analysis of phase diagrams of binary alloys..

"Oh, my Russia! My wife! The long way is painfully clear to us!" (the theme of the Motherland in the poetry of A. A. Blok)
But we have no moral right to accuse A. Blok, V. Bryusov, S. Yesenin and others, those who sincerely did not believe in the humanity of the people's soul, in mysticism. He saw both the dark and the light hidden in the idea of ​​revolution.

Theory of economic analysis and economic analysis
Topic Introduction The content of the prelmet and tasks of economic analysis .. Lecture Introduction The content of the prelmet and tasks of economic .. Plan ..

Author and hero in I. Babel's novel "Cavalry"
Maybe this made him believe in the false ideals of the Bolshevik revolution and wasted money in food detachments, in checks, in the army. A naive, sensitive boy among a pack of robbers, murderers! Yes, and how else .. After all, the Chekists did not serve the people, but the Bolshevik Party, the party that seized power like a bandit and which ruled ..

Analysis of the economic activity of a construction organization as an object of analysis
Analysis acts in a dialectical, contradictory unity with the concept of synthesis, the combination of previously dissected elements of the object under study into a single one .. Analysis is synthesis, understood as a synonym for any scientific research. In any .. Special meaning analysis and synthesis were acquired in the economy, which, as you know, is the basis of everything that exists on the planet.

My country is my Russia
Regulations on the All-Russian competition of youth copyright projects aimed at social economic development Russian regions my country.. all-Russian competition youth copyright .. aimed at the socio-economic ..

0.045

“Cavalry” by I. E. Babel is a collection of short stories related to the theme of the civil war and a single image of the narrator.

Cavalry is written on the basis of Babel's diaries (when he fought in the First Cavalry Army). Babel himself fought under the name of Lyutov.

Based on this, we can conclude that the main character expresses the worldview of Babel himself.

Upon closer examination, the diary and the stories turn out to be dissimilar. But this is understandable. The form of detachment of the author of the Diary from reality, dictated in the situation of the civil war by the need for self-preservation, in Cavalry turns into an aesthetic device that makes it possible, on the one hand, to expose the rudeness and barbarism of the Cossacks, and on the other hand, to emphasize the alienation of the Jewish intellectual who is trying to live in an alien, monstrously cruel life

Novella "My First Goose". Like most of the short stories in this collection, it was written in the first person by Kirill Vasilyevich Lyutov.

This can be seen literally from the very first lines of the story: “Are you literate?” Savitsky asked, and found out that Lyutov was "literate" ("candidate of rights at St. Petersburg University"), and yet this was an army of working peasants. He is a stranger. Then, when he shouted to him: “You are from Kinderbalsam ... and glasses on your nose”, when he exclaimed laughing: “They send you without asking, but then they cut you for glasses,” Babel was accurate in depicting how he had been accumulating for centuries class hatred coarsens human behavior. Lyutov humbly and obediently bows before the Cossacks. The author portrayed his behavior with irony. There is something feminine in his fear. Feeling that he is a stranger here, Lyutov wants to become his own. To achieve this goal, he dispassionately kills a goose. When the victory seemed to be achieved, when the Cossacks finally say: “the guy is suitable for us” - Lyutov, triumphantly, reads a speech to them in the newspaper, there is a feeling that his victory is somehow strange, incomplete. “... We slept there six, warming ourselves from each other.” The conflict here is external, and only at the end of the story it becomes clear that impassibility is imaginary. And in the soul of the hero there is languor, “inner heat”, “flaming forehead”. “And only the heart, stained with murder, creaked and flowed” (“the head of a killed goose runs out under a soldier’s boot). This is the "accompaniment" of any war. And it needs to be experienced. There is a distance between Lyutov and the Red Army men. There is still something human in him. This explains the high style of the finale. There is no future in the hero's value system. There is only the present. All life is like a pulsating experience. Perhaps that is why life is so important, and death is so tragic. Babel's world, in essence, the simplest universal human relations revealed in it, is tragic - because of the constant intervention of death during life. Babel's landscape is unusual. “The village street lay in front, round and yellow like a pumpkin, the dying sun emitted its pink spirit in the sky.” The landscape is given two contradictory tones: heat and all-destroying death. Everything is in motion. The relationship between "heaven" and "earth" is absolutely independent of each other. So it turns out that the state of the hero is contradictory. After all, he does this act regardless of his internal state.

"The sun fell on me from behind jagged hillocks." The relationship here between the heavenly and earthly faces again appears in an unusual form. The movement of the sun is vertical. And this verticality seems to leave no choice for the main character with its straightforwardness.

So, it seems to me that the landscape is directly related to the actions of the hero.

Nevertheless, there is no plot as such. Babel deliberately builds the plot on the vision of the world, reflecting mainly the consciousness of one person - Lyutov. Thus, the author of Cavalry frees himself from the need to motivate what is happening and, more importantly, from revealing the logic of the actual military events - for a book about the war, Cavalry contains surprisingly little plot action as such. The plot line is built in such a way as to convey the visual, auditory perception of the protagonist.

The author emphasizes the instantaneousness, suddenness, fragmentary actions and the lack of connection between them. To show the value of life. He achieves this by using perfective verbs: especially in stylistically neutral verbs: “shouted”, “shouted”, “uttered”. It can be intensified by the word “suddenly”, which is most often used next to neutral verbs of speech. Sometimes the actions are meaningless and broken: "... came very close to me, then jumped back in despair and ran to the first courtyard." The entire internally confused state of a person is expressed here in action, and the observer-author, without explaining anything, as if mechanically restores the sequence of these crazy “steps” and “gestures”, which are logically unrelated to each other. Everything seems to be built according to the scheme of brevity. The structure of Babel's style is the representation of the living world as something fragmented and torn off; there is no integrity in it. The story is told in literary language. Nevertheless, the stylistic pattern of the verbal form is motley and discordant. In many ways, the Cossacks contribute to this by introducing natural lively speech into the conversation: “... you are obliged to take this person to your premises and without stupidity, because this person has suffered from the scientific part ...” In all the stories of the Cavalry there is the presence of the author himself, who, together with her heroes, went through a difficult path to comprehend the meaning of this bloody struggle. In the descriptions of events there is a cruel truth of the mighty bloody stream of life.

“Cavalry” by I. E. Babel is a collection of short stories related to the theme of the civil war and a single image of the narrator.

Cavalry is written on the basis of Babel's diaries (when he fought in the First Cavalry Army). Babel himself fought under the name of Lyutov.

Based on this, we can conclude that the main character expresses the worldview of Babel himself.

Upon closer examination, the diary and the stories turn out to be dissimilar. But this is understandable. The form of detachment of the author of the Diary from reality, dictated in the situation of the civil war by the need for self-preservation, in Cavalry turns into an aesthetic device that makes it possible, on the one hand, to expose the rudeness and barbarism of the Cossacks, and on the other hand, to emphasize the alienation of the Jewish intellectual who is trying to live in an alien, monstrously cruel life

Novella "My First Goose". Like most of the short stories in this collection, it was written in the first person by Kirill Vasilyevich Lyutov.

This can be seen literally from the very first lines of the story: “Are you literate?” Savitsky asked, and found out that Lyutov was "literate" ("candidate of rights at St. Petersburg University"), and yet this was an army of working peasants. He is a stranger.

Then, when he shouted to him: “You are made of kinderbalms ... and glasses on your nose”, when he exclaimed laughing: “They send you without asking, but then they cut you for glasses,” Babel was accurate in depicting how the class hatred accumulated for centuries coarsens human behavior. Lyutov humbly and obediently bows before the Cossacks. The author portrayed his behavior with irony. There is something feminine in his fear. Feeling that he is a stranger here, Lyutov wants to become his own. To achieve this goal, he dispassionately kills a goose. When the victory seemed to be achieved, when the Cossacks finally say: “the guy is suitable for us” - Lyutov, triumphant, reads a speech to them in the newspaper, there is a feeling that his victory is somehow strange, incomplete. "... We slept six there, warming ourselves from each other."

The conflict here is external, and only at the end of the story it becomes clear that dispassion is imaginary. And in the soul of the hero there is languor, “inner heat”, “flaming forehead”. “And only the heart, stained with murder, creaked and flowed” (“the head of a killed goose runs out under a soldier’s boot). This is the "accompaniment" of any war. And it needs to be experienced. There is a distance between Lyutov and the Red Army men. There is still something human in him. This explains the high syllable of the finale.

There is no future in the hero's value system. There is only the present. All life is like a pulsating experience. Perhaps that is why life is so important, and death is so tragic.

Babel's world, in essence, the simplest universal human relations revealed in it, is tragic - because of the constant interference of death during life.

Unusual landscape at Babel. "the village street lay before

us, round and yellow like a pumpkin, the dying sun emitted its pink spirit in the sky. The landscape is given two contradictory tones: heat and all-destroying death. Everything is in motion. The relationship between "heaven" and "earth" is absolutely independent of each other. So it turns out that the state of the hero is contradictory. After all, he does this act regardless of his internal state.

"The sun fell on me from behind jagged hillocks." The relationship here between the heavenly and earthly faces again appears in an unusual form. The movement of the sun is vertical. And this verticality seems to leave no choice for the main character with its straightforwardness.

So, it seems to me that the landscape is directly related to the actions of the hero.

There is no plot, however. . Babel deliberately builds the plot on a vision of the world, reflecting mainly the consciousness of one person - Lyutov. Thus, the author of Cavalry frees himself from the need to motivate what is happening and, more importantly, from revealing the logic of the actual military events - for a book about the war, Cavalry contains surprisingly little plot action as such. The plot line is built in such a way as to convey the visual, auditory perception of the protagonist.

The author emphasizes the instantaneousness, suddenness, fragmentary actions and the lack of connection between them. To show the value of life. He achieves this by using perfective verbs: especially in stylistically neutral verbs: “shouted”, “shouted”, “uttered”. It can be intensified by the word “suddenly”, which is most often used next to neutral verbs of speech. Sometimes the actions are meaningless and broken: "... came very close to me, then jumped back in despair and ran to the first courtyard." The entire internally confused state of a person is expressed here in action, and the observer-author, without explaining anything, as if mechanically restores the sequence of these crazy “steps” and “gestures”, which are logically unrelated to each other. Everything seems to be built according to the scheme of brevity. The structure of Babel's style is the representation of the living world as something fragmented and torn off; there is no integrity in it.

The story is told in literary language. Nevertheless, the stylistic pattern of the verbal form is motley and discordant. In many ways, the Cossacks contribute to this by introducing natural, lively speech into the conversation: “... you are obliged to take this person to your premises and without stupidity, because this person has suffered from the scientific part ...”

In all the stories of Cavalry there is the presence of the author himself, who, together with its heroes, went through a difficult path to comprehend the meaning of this bloody struggle. In the descriptions of events there is a cruel truth of the mighty bloody stream of life. “Cavalry” by I. E. Babel is a collection of short stories related to the theme of the civil war and a single image of the narrator. Cavalry is written on the basis of Babel's diaries (when he fought in the First Cavalry Army). Babel himself fought under the name

“Cavalry” by I. E. Babel is a collection of short stories related to the theme of the civil war and a single image of the narrator.

Cavalry is written on the basis of Babel's diaries (when he fought in the First Cavalry Army). Babel himself fought under the name of Lyutov.

Based on this, we can conclude that the main character expresses the worldview of Babel himself.

Upon closer examination, the diary and the stories turn out to be dissimilar. But this is understandable. The form of detachment of the author of the Diary from reality, dictated in the situation of the civil war by the need for self-preservation, in Cavalry turns into an aesthetic device that makes it possible, on the one hand, to expose the rudeness and barbarism of the Cossacks, and on the other hand, to emphasize the alienation of the Jewish intellectual who is trying to live in an alien, monstrously cruel life

Novella "My First Goose". Like most of the short stories in this collection, it was written in the first person by Kirill Vasilyevich Lyutov.

This can be seen literally from the very first lines of the story: “Are you literate?” Savitsky asked, and found out that Lyutov was "literate" ("candidate of rights at St. Petersburg University"), and yet this was an army of working peasants. He is a stranger.

Then, when he shouted to him: “You are made of kinderbalms ... and glasses on your nose”, when he exclaimed laughing: “They send you without asking, but then they cut you for glasses,” Babel was accurate in depicting how the class hatred accumulated for centuries coarsens human behavior. Lyutov humbly and obediently bows before the Cossacks. The author portrayed his behavior with irony. There is something feminine in his fear. Feeling that he is a stranger here, Lyutov wants to become his own. To achieve this goal, he dispassionately kills a goose. When the victory seemed to be achieved, when the Cossacks finally say: “the guy is suitable for us” - Lyutov, triumphant, reads a speech to them in the newspaper, there is a feeling that his victory is somehow strange, incomplete. "... We slept six there, warming ourselves from each other."

The conflict here is external, and only at the end of the story it becomes clear that dispassion is imaginary. And in the soul of the hero there is languor, “inner heat”, “flaming forehead”. “And only the heart, stained with murder, creaked and flowed” (“the head of a killed goose runs out under a soldier’s boot). This is the "accompaniment" of any war. And it needs to be experienced. There is a distance between Lyutov and the Red Army men. There is still something human in him. This explains the high syllable of the finale.

There is no future in the hero's value system. There is only the present. All life is like a pulsating experience. Perhaps that is why life is so important, and death is so tragic.

Babel's world, in essence, the simplest universal human relations revealed in it, is tragic - because of the constant interference of death during life.

Unusual landscape at Babel. "the village street lay before

us, round and yellow like a pumpkin, the dying sun emitted its pink spirit in the sky. The landscape is given two contradictory tones: heat and all-destroying death. Everything is in motion. The relationship between "heaven" and "earth" is absolutely independent of each other. So it turns out that the state of the hero is contradictory. After all, he does this act regardless of his internal state.

"The sun fell on me from behind jagged hillocks." The relationship here between the heavenly and earthly faces again appears in an unusual form. The movement of the sun is vertical. And this verticality seems to leave no choice for the main character with its straightforwardness.

So, it seems to me that the landscape is directly related to the actions of the hero.

There is no plot, however. . Babel deliberately builds the plot on a vision of the world, reflecting mainly the consciousness of one person - Lyutov. Thus, the author of Cavalry frees himself from the need to motivate what is happening and, more importantly, from revealing the logic of the actual military events - for a book about the war, Cavalry contains surprisingly little plot action as such. The plot line is built in such a way as to convey the visual, auditory perception of the protagonist.

The author emphasizes the instantaneousness, suddenness, fragmentary actions and the lack of connection between them. To show the value of life. He achieves this by using perfective verbs: especially in stylistically neutral verbs: “shouted”, “shouted”, “uttered”. It can be intensified by the word “suddenly”, which is most often used next to neutral verbs of speech. Sometimes the actions are meaningless and broken: "... came very close to me, then jumped back in despair and ran to the first courtyard." The entire internally confused state of a person is expressed here in action, and the observer-author, without explaining anything, as if mechanically restores the sequence of these crazy “steps” and “gestures”, which are logically unrelated to each other. Everything seems to be built according to the scheme of brevity. The structure of Babel's style is the representation of the living world as something fragmented and torn off; there is no integrity in it.

The story is told in literary language. Nevertheless, the stylistic pattern of the verbal form is motley and discordant. In many ways, the Cossacks contribute to this by introducing natural, lively speech into the conversation: “... you are obliged to take this person to your premises and without stupidity, because this person has suffered from the scientific part ...”

In all the stories of Cavalry there is the presence of the author himself, who, together with its heroes, went through a difficult path to comprehend the meaning of this bloody struggle. In the descriptions of events there is a cruel truth of the mighty bloody stream of life.