Rumors about coming out soon the new story of the great writer spread very quickly. However, Turgenev was in no hurry with the publication. Only after three consecutive revisions and much thought did Ivan Sergeevich give permission for the story to be published in the St. Petersburg News in 1866.
One evening in the inn the conversation turned to the supernatural. Believe it or not... When suddenly a middle-aged man, who had been sitting silently before, announced that a supernatural thing had happened to him.
The man's name was Porfiry Kapitonych. Previously, he served as a hussar, however, over time, he quit and moved to live in the village. There, things did not go well for him, and in search of a better life he went to Petersburg, hoping for the help of an old friend who occupied a significant position, and was obliged to Porfiry Kapitonych, since he had saved him from a sharper in his time. And here the ruined landowner was very lucky. They put him in the place of the overseer of state-owned stores, which were still only in the plans.
From the story of Porfiry Kapitonych it followed that he lived in the Kozelsk district, had a small estate, but he had neither a family nor children. And then one day, returning from a neighbor, where a card game was played all evening, but not a drop of alcohol was drunk, the narrator settled down to sleep. All of a sudden, rustling noises were heard from under the bed. I must say that the landowner never had dogs, and the sound was very similar to dog fuss.
Extremely dissatisfied, Porfiry Kapitonych called for a servant. But when Filka entered with a candle, the fuss stopped and no dog was found in the room. The next evening it all happened again. But when Filka blew out the candle, he himself heard the sounds of a dog. The frightened landowner slept for a long time by the light of the lamp, and then got used to it.
One day the same neighbor came to visit Porfiry Kapitonych. They sat up until night playing cards and the owner persuaded the guest to stay overnight. At the same time, he ordered to bed him in his bedroom. As soon as the light went out, the dog not only stirred, but also began to walk around the room and push the chair. Only with promises to put the neighbor to sleep in another room did they manage to persuade the frightened man to stay until the morning. During the morning tea, Vasily Vasilyich, a very intelligent, literate and well-read man, advised Porfiry Kapitonych to leave the house for a while. He listened to wise advice and immediately left for the city, where he stopped at an inn.
However, on the very first night, as soon as the candles and lamps were extinguished, everything happened again. The dog scratched, scratched, flapped its ears. The owner, Fedul Ivanovich, hearing the noise, demanded to remove the animal, since he never liked dogs. In response to the guest's story about strange sounds that occur only in the dark, he advised him to turn to an old man in Belev.
The next day, Porfiry Kapitonych went in search of the old man, found him and told his story. To which Prokhorych replied that these sounds were far from a punishment for the landowner, but rather a warning. Therefore, if he buys a dog, then everything will pass. The narrator liked this advice, he immediately advanced to the market, but on the way he bought a puppy from a soldier, whom he named Trezor. As soon as the dog settled in the house, the night noise immediately stopped.
Trezor has grown into a beautiful hunting dog, not one step away from the owner. Being a little lover of hunting, Porfiry Kapitonych had to master this business, wander through the fields, through the forests, in search of prey, to shoot hares and ducks.
On one of the hot days, the narrator decided to go to his acquaintance, a young and attractive neighbor. Already near the house, a huge terrible dog suddenly attacked the landowner. Only thanks to the fact that Trezor rushed to the defense of the owner, he was able to escape and slip into the house. However, Trezor was badly wounded, and mad dog The count managed to escape.
Having decided to take the dog to the local doctor tomorrow, Porfiry Kapitonych settled down to sleep on the street near his house for the night, because the heat was unbearable. All night he could not sleep. Either thoughts interfered, or the moon shone too brightly. Suddenly he saw a huge, terrible dog, the same one that had rushed at him during the day. And again Trezor rushed to the enemy, defended the owner, and he himself died. And the next day a rabid dog was shot by a soldier in the village.
Mysticism in the life of Turgenev
The works of Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev, written in the 60s of the XIX century, are distinguished by a certain penchant for mysticism. This baffled friends and critics, who considered the writer a realist, a person who describes with amazing accuracy all the subtleties of the real world. The works of the late period of the writer's work are distinguished by the presence of the supernatural in the life of an ordinary person. Critics called them "Mystery Tales". This cycle includes:
Ghosts (1863);
Dog (1864);
Knock... Knock... Knock!... (1870);
Clock (1875);
The story of Father Alexei (1877);
Sleep (1877);
Song of Triumphant Love (1881);
After Death (Clara Milic) (1883).
Contemporaries assumed that "Mysterious Tales" were the result of personal experience received by the writer in his own life.
Faced with criticism, the author called his mystical works nothing more than "trifles." Perhaps that is why he nurtured the idea of writing "Dogs" for five years. At the same time, his oral stories caused stormy delight and approval of the listeners. But the final manuscript, resulting from three successive revisions, did not have such picturesque descriptions and a fascinating plot as an oral narrative.
In letters to Pauline, Viardot Turgenev admits that the story was written quickly, in two days. And at the same time, the author did not take a break either for sleep or for eating. He wrote enthusiastically, avidly. The first reading of the manuscript was a great success. However, the author himself made many amendments to the original version during the discussion after reading. The second manuscript has only two inserts. The third is a clean version.
The writer faced a difficult choice regarding the publishing house in which "The Dog" should be published for the first time. Without making a final decision, throughout the spring of 1864, Turgenev read the story from the manuscript.
The decisive review for the author was the criticism of V.P. Botkin, expressed in Baden-Baden in the summer of 1864. Although Annenkov's written opinion, which had a significant influence on the author, was positive, Botkin spoke out sharply negatively. Finding nothing tragic or comic in the story, embarrassed by the general tone of the story, literary critic advised Turgenev not to publish the work. The writer listened to the criticism and, dejected by the failure of The Ghost, hid the story for a long time.
The work "Dog" in print
However, rumors about the "Dog" were spreading. F.M. Dostoevsky several times appealed to Turgenev with an urgent request to publish the story in The Epoch, to which the author responded with a sharp unequivocal refusal. And only a second reading of the work in Nice, in the circle of A.D. Bludova, and the urgent requests of V.F. Korsh, the editor-in-chief of Sankt-Peterburgskiye Vedomosti, prompted the author to allow publication, which happened on March 31, 1866. Critics differ in their assessment of the story "The Dog" from sharp negativism to complete admiration.
In November 1866, the work was translated into French and published in Le Nord. In 1870, an English-language version was printed in the Temple Bar newspaper, which received the most admiring and positive reviews.
According to critics, Turgenev's story "The Dog" combines everyday reality with the supernatural and fantastic. Many note the author's focus on the image of the main character, the narrator Porfiry Kapitonych. The writer colorfully describes his appearance and inner world, formed under the influence of the popular worldview. At the same time, the supernatural, the image of a dog and the mystical old man, is assigned only a secondary role.
The main idea of the story is that strange and incomprehensible phenomena that can happen in everyone's life are, perhaps, signs that you should not be afraid of. And the use of the information received and the warnings received, albeit not in the usual way, can solve some of life's problems.
Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev
... But if we admit the possibility of the supernatural, the possibility of its interference in real life, then let me ask what role should common sense play after that? Anton Stepanych proclaimed, and crossed his arms over his stomach.
Anton Stepanych held the rank of State Councilor, served in some tricky department, and, speaking in a slow, deep voice, enjoyed universal respect. Shortly before that, in the words of his envious people, he was "slapped into a stanisla". (1)
“That is absolutely fair,” said Skvorevich.
“No one will argue about that,” Kinarevich added.
“And I agree,” the owner of the house, Mr. Finoplentov, echoed from the corner with a fistula.
“But, I confess, I cannot agree, because something supernatural happened to me myself,” said a man of medium height and middle years, with a paunch and a bald head, who until then had been silently sitting at the stove. The eyes of everyone in the room turned to him with curiosity and bewilderment - and silence reigned.
This man was a poor Kaluga landowner who had recently arrived in St. Petersburg. He once served in the hussars, lost, retired and settled in the countryside. The latest economic changes reduced his income, (2) and he went to the capital to look for a convenient place. He had no powers and no connections; but he firmly hoped for the friendship of an old colleague who suddenly, for no reason at all, jumped out into the people and whom he once helped to pin a sharper. Moreover, he counted on his own happiness - and it did not fail him; a few days later he received a position as a supervisor of state-owned stores, (3) a profitable position, even an honorary one, and did not require excellent talents: the stores themselves existed only in the assumption and it was not even known exactly what they would be filled with - but they invented them in the form of state savings.
Anton Stepanitch was the first to break the general stupor.
- How, my dear sir! - he began, - you are not jokingly asserting that something supernatural has happened to you - I mean: something that is not in accordance with the laws of nature?
“I approve,” objected “my dear sir,” whose real name was Porfiry Kapitonych.
- Not in accordance with the laws of nature! repeated Anton Stepanych heartily, who evidently liked this phrase.
“Exactly…yes; that's exactly what you want to say.
- It is amazing! What do you think, gentlemen? - Anton Stepanych tried to give his features an ironic expression, but nothing came of it, or, to put it more correctly, it came out only that, they say, the Mr. Councilor of State smelled a bad smell. “Will you take the trouble, dear sir,” he continued, turning to the Kaluga landowner, “to tell us the details of such a curious event?”
- From what? Can! answered the landowner, and, moving insolently towards the middle of the room, he spoke thus:
- I have, gentlemen, as you probably know - and maybe not know - a small estate in the Kozelsk district. I used to derive some benefit from it - but now, of course, nothing but trouble can be foreseen. However, on the side of politics! Well, in this very estate I have a "tiny" estate: a vegetable garden, as usual, a little pond with crucian carp, some buildings - well, and an outhouse for my own sinful body ... It's idle. Well, once - about six years ago - I returned to my house rather late: I threw some cards at a neighbor's - but, besides, please note, not in one, as they say, eye; undressed, lay down, blew out the candle. And just imagine, gentlemen: just as I blew out the candle, there was a fuss under my bed! Think it's a rat? No, not a rat: scratching, fiddling, itching ... Finally, ears clapped!
Obviously, a dog. But where does the dog come from? I myself do not hold; do I think some ran "sick"? I called my servant; I call him Filka. A servant entered with a candle. “What is this,” I say, “brother Filka, what turmoil you have! The dog crawled under my bed.” - "What, says, dog?" “How do I know? - I say, - this is your business - the master should not be allowed to worry. My Filka bent down and began to light a candle under the bed. “Yes, here, he says, there is no dog.” I also bent down: for sure, there is no dog. - What a parable! - I threw my eyes at Filka, and he smiles. “Fool,” I tell him, “what are you showing your teeth for? The dog, probably, as you began to open the door, took it and darted into the front. And you. rotozey, did not notice anything, because you are always sleeping. Do you imagine that I'm drunk?" He wanted to object, but I drove him away, curled up and that night I did not hear anything.
But the next night - imagine! - the same thing happened again. As soon as I blew out the candle, he scratches again, flaps his ears. Again I called Filka, again he looked under the bed - again nothing! I sent him away, blew out the candle - damn it! the dog is right there. And how there is a dog: so you can hear how it breathes, how it sorts through the wool with its teeth, looking for fleas ... Clearly this! "Filka! I say, “come in here without a candle!” He entered. “Well, what, I say, do you hear?” “I hear,” he says. I can’t see him myself, but I feel that the little one has frightened. “How, I say, do you understand this?” - “And how do you order me to understand this, Porfiry Kapitonych? - Obsession! - “You,” I say, “a dissolute person, be silent with an obsession with your own ...” And both of us have voices like birds, and we tremble as if in a fever - in the dark. I lit a candle: there was no dog, no noise - but only Filka and I - white as clay. So my candle burned until the morning. And I will report to you, gentlemen, - believe me or not - but only from that very night for six weeks the same story repeated itself with me. In the end, I even got used to it and began to extinguish the candle, because I can’t sleep in the light. Let, they say, mess around! After all, she does not harm me.
“However, I see that you are not a cowardly ten,” Anton Stepanych interrupted with a half-contemptuous, half-condescending laugh. - Now you can see the hussar!
“In no case would I be afraid of you,” said Porfiry Kapitonych, and for a moment he really looked like a hussar. But listen further. One neighbor comes to me, the same one with whom I played cards. He dined with me with what God sent, lowered me fifty rubles for a visit; night in the yard - it's time to get out. And I have my own thoughts. “Stay, I say, spend the night with me, Vasily Vasilyich; Tomorrow you will recoup, God willing. I thought, my Vasily Vasilyich thought, he stayed. I ordered him to put a bed in my bedroom ... Well, we lay down, smoked, chatted - more and more about the female sex, as it befits in a single company, we laughed, of course; I look: Vasily Vasilyich put out his candle and turned his back on me; means: "schlafenzivol." (4) I waited a little and also extinguished the candle. And imagine: I didn’t have time to think that, they say, now what carom will happen? (5) as my darling was already imported. Yes, she didn’t bring much: she crawled out from under the bed, went across the room, tapped the floor with her claws, shook her ears, and suddenly, how she pushed the very chair that was near Vasily Vasilyevich’s bed! “Porfiry Kapitonych,” he says, and in such an indifferent voice, you know, “but I didn’t know that you got a dog. What is she, a cop, or what? - “I, I say, have no dog and never have!” – “How not? and what's that?" - "What this is?- I say, - but light a candle, so you will know for yourself. - "Isn't that a dog?" - "Not". Vassily Vassilyitch turned round on the bed. "Are you kidding me, damn it?" - "No, I'm not kidding." I hear: he is black, black with a match, but so-and-so, so-and-so still does not let up, scratches his side. The light lit up ... and that's it! The trail is gone! Vassily Vassilyitch looks at me, and I look at him. "This, he says, what kind of trick?" “And this,” I say, “is such a trick that if you put Socrates himself on one side, and Frederick the Great on the other, (6) they won’t make out anything.” And then I told him everything in detail. How my Vasily Vasilyich will jump up! Like burned! It won't fit into boots. “Horses! - shouts, - horses! I began to persuade him, so where! And so he sighed. “I won’t stay, screaming, not a minute! - You, then, after this, are a publicized person! “Horses!” But I persuaded him. Only his bed was dragged to another room - and nightlights were lit everywhere. In the morning, at tea, he settled down; started giving me advice. “You, Porfiry Kapitonych,” he says, “would try to leave the house for a few days: maybe this dirty trick would lag behind you.” But I must tell you: he was a man - my neighbor - was a vast mind! By the way, he treated his mother-in-law in such a wonderful way: he slipped a bill to her; It means that I chose the most sensitive hour! Silk has become; gave a power of attorney to manage the entire estate - what more? But what kind of business is it - to twist a mother-in-law, huh? Feel free to judge for yourself. However, he left me in some displeasure: I again punished him for a hundred rubles. Even scolded me; said that you are ungrateful, you don’t feel; and what is my fault here? Well, that goes without saying - and I took his advice into account: on the same day I drove off to the city, and settled in an inn with an old acquaintance of the schismatics. The old man was venerable, although a little stern because of his loneliness: his whole family had died. Only he didn’t much like tobacco and felt great disgust towards dogs; it seems that, for example, he would agree to let a dog into the room - he would rather cut himself in half! “Because, he says, how is it possible! Here, in my room on the wall, the Lady herself (7) deigns to stay, and right there the dog’s filthy snout will set its wicked snout. It is known - ignorance! And yet, I am of the opinion: to whom what wisdom was given, that one and stick to it!