Morality is our future. V. Tendryakov

Save souls. B. Chichibabin

In our difficult time, when the concepts between good and evil, moral and immoral are being erased, it is useful to turn to an honest, conscientious writer who has always been concerned about the moral health of the people.

The lesson begins with listening to a poem by Boris Chichibabin.

I live in a country house. Life is wonderful.

His jam.

Meanwhile, another

P. BUT. Krivonogov. Victory. 1941 - 1947

The soul is dead.

The world is full of poor fellows.

About this minute

Some are being held in shackles.

As with Malyuta.

I'll just get through

Here is that line.

And human blood is not alone

Pour the shirt.

They're already knocking on my door,

Already in a hurry

And no matter what the enemy is, a fierce crap,

That friend is a robot.

Rest in your heart, my Tolstoy,

Do not tear, do not rage:

We are all familiar paths

We go our way.

We look with longing, locked,

Following the departed.

What ice in summer - kindness

Ask women.

What a flame on the shoulders

There is no sweetness with him.

Take the poison on an empty stomach.

Take poison.

And you, my love, and you,

Palms, lips,

From the daily routine

You are going to decline.

How eyelids are brought together by death,

As death eyelids -

So we all live in the world

In the twentieth century.

No wonder the Lord roars like a thunderstorm

For deaf ears:

- Drop everything. Let the flesh die.

Save souls.

We started the lesson with Chichi's poembabina, although today we will talk aboutto lead Tendryakov "People or non-humans". Youcan't find a link here?

Problems of good and evil, moral searches of a person, values human life underlie many works of Russian literature. The writer Vladimir Tendryakov, whose work we will talk about, did not stay away from their decision.

Word about writer. Vladimir Fedorovich Tendryakov () was born in the Vologda region. His first story, The Cases of My Platoon, was published in 1947. A student of the Literary Institute had already passed by this time along the fronts of the Great Patriotic War. All the writer's works: "Date with Nefertiti", "Spring Changelings", "The Night Before Graduation", "Bread for the Dog", "Donna Anna", "Hunting" - aroused and continue to arouse the reader's interest, heated debate.

About what tells us the name of the hanger
ti "People or non-humans"?

Tendryakov is trying to figure out where the
currents of anger, cruelty.

It makes you wonder who we are
living on earth, people or nonhumans?

- Why Tendryakov turns to
the past, the time of your youth?

Then, as a 19-year-old soldier, he
lived a "rarely wonderful feeling of love"
people for being kind to each other.

- Let's mentally imagine
wim one of the moments of this past...

1943 Our hero is walking across the steppe in search of headquarters. What picture does he see under the black night sky?

- “Almost at every step, either an inverted elbow sticks out, or a stone shoulder covered with an overcoat, or a smooth, ice-baked helmet that hides eye sockets covered with snow” - this is how the hero sees the battlefield.

- Do the dead evoke pityth? Does he feel confusion, horror?

No, he got used to the corpses, they became part of his military life for him.

- What happened with the advent ofbad horse?

The hero felt pity. She was driven out to die, and she continued to live with downcast obstinacy.

- Why is the hero "afraid" of the "dangerous"the senses?

With pity, fear for one's own life, self-pity can enter the soul.

He orders himself: “Do not dare to regret and do not dare to think too much - war! Rough and callous, become a tree!”

-Why does the saving thought of ending the war frighten him? Why is he afraid to be kind and compassionate?

He does not know how to live later, in peacetime, if he has forgotten how to regret, suffer, if he is indifferent “to the point of being woody.” Suddenly, this entered the soul forever?

- But the "universal longing" that hejust recently experienced, still aboutwalks. Why?

He realized that the war did not kill in person
century of sincerity, pity. Two recent
enemy, the young German Willy and the Russian
soldier Yakushin, in the dugout they eat porridge from
one pot. "Head to head, spoon to
spoon and - bread in half.

He was flooded with love for Yakushin, Willy, Uncle Pasha, for the soldiers snoring in the dugout. There is hope: if
lucky enough to see the end of the war, then
he will be surrounded by people tired of blood and
hatred yearning for love.

- But a new day has come, it has begun
offensive. Stalingrad is near. By noon, the troops entered the farm. Writer by
shows it through the eyes of a soldier. How are they
did you see him?

Only traces of the farm remain. Ashes everywhere, smoke stretches on the ground,
smelling of meat and singed wool.

But the worst thing they saw
wells: two ice mounds. And inside -
missing scouts.

- The reaction of the soldiers to what they saw?

Everyone was engulfed in anger. No longer 'know
there was Yakushin with a whitened look, Uncle Pasha with a purple face, with swollen white nostrils, teeth in a grin. Everyone wanted revenge.

Willy and you were brought in for reprisal.
pushed to the well. He unbent, green
ny, like ice, with his mouth open, became wildly
look back. And when they began to tear off the clothes
waiting, shouted "not humanly - hoarsely
croaking, with a choke.

- How does the character feel about this
scene?

Even before the massacre with Willy, he felt
"some sobering discomfort." And she
turned to horror when he realized how re
wished to avenge their comrades. People
at that moment they ceased to be human.
They evoked fear.

- Long years the writer was tormented alone and
the same question: why uncle Pasha. Yakushin
reached such cruelty, because they do not
were villains?

It is difficult to answer this question. Yes,
they weren't villains. They were sincerely
kind to Willy in the dugout. But how do they combine kindness and fierce cruelty? ..
"Soulful man Willy ..." and "Brothers!
Water! We live it!” And it is no coincidence that the writer
reflects: “I am proud of my people,
he gave the world Herzen and Leo Tolstoy, Dostoevsky and Chekhov - great philanthropists. And now it's time to ask a question:
my people, of which I am a part, -
people or nonhumans?!”

Probably in a brutal wartime
man is capable of cruel deeds.

- War makes people
century turns into a beast? And in our
peacetime this can not happen?

- Maybe Tendryakov cites such
examples. 14 years later, in Beijing at the Pedagogical University, Chinese students enthusiastically welcomed Russians

guests. Their faces radiated love and warmth. And the writer's heart was again filled with love for all people in the world. A few years later, a friend of the writer observed such a scene there. People in paper caps, in the hands of shields with a list of "crimes" stood on the platform and waited for their fate. A man was led to a makeshift scaffold, severely beaten. The enraged crowd "selflessly" whipped the fallen, beat the defenseless man with cold bitterness. Faces are distorted with cruel malice, all demand the death of a traitor.

- And again we ask: "WhoAre we humans or nonhumans? Why does a person turn into a sadist? Howdoes the writer answer us?

Tendryakov's man is not angry or
good, but good and evil at the same time. And good or evil wins in him, depending on
circumstances.

- “Once upon a time,” Tendryakov wrote, “... I
divided the world into good people and bad ones. Good de tryin to make a living
better, bad ones spoil it, and it seemed that
it’s only worth the good not sparingly leaning on the bad, as the earth will come
the realm of freedom and justice…” But
over time, he discovered that this is too naive a concept to explain
all the evil of the world: “How often people who are the most worthy by nature, getting into tough circumstances, are forced to act badly, according to
the swarm is even criminal.”

The fertile ground on which crimes ripen, according to Tendryakov, is a crowd engulfed in anger.
This is what the poem by Robert Rozhdestvensky is about:

Crowds don't look like people. Swaying, hoarsely sniffing Onlookers and random passers-by Silently absorbing. It draws you in like a quagmire, - You can't see the details... And now a force is awakening, Which has nowhere to go. The crowd, like sick nature, Trembling from obscure worries. Looks like part of the people. In fact, its antipode.

- Is it really impossible for a person toto resist the crowd, to remain a person?
After all, he did not participate in the massacre
over Willie the narrator.

- What happens to a person
when he acts on his own, outside
crowds? What examples does the writer give?
from your own life?

For many years he was "burnt with shame for
himself" the case when he stole from his comrades
bread. As he believed, he had the opportunity to learn to live, extracting from the situation
benefit for yourself.

Repentance came almost immediately.
Walking after the foreman, the narrator clearly

realized the enormity of his act.

Military ingenuity turned into theft from his own comrades, who, like him, had not eaten for five days.

- And that was the only time thatwhere did the hero act out of conscience?

He remembers lying to teachers;
didn't hold back given word like stole from
moving fish. But every time I found
self-justification.

- Only now, having stolen half a loaf, he
couldn't justify himself. Why?

Shame does not allow. Conscience hurts

He despises himself, feels that
now not worthy of joking, laughing.

- How to be, how to regain respect for
yourself?

He lay down first on the break of the line under
heavy shelling, tried to load
on a reel with a heavier cable, De
always poured an extra pot of porridge with his comrades.

- Does this mean that he learned from the pro
outgoing life lesson? ..

This act was enough for a lifetime.
He learned what contempt for himself means
to himself, “lynching without justification, a suicidal feeling - you are worse than anyone you meet, dung among people! Is it possible at
to experience the joy of being?

- It would seem that one could put
point. But the author tells the story
the life of his classmate, Shurka Sha-
Burov, with whom 30 years ago he sat at
one party. Why is he doing this?

Shurka became a thief, passed through all
camps, after eight years he was released,
married and has two children. He arrived in Moscow and turned to the writer for help.
He helps with money, tries through
acquaintances to settle the affairs of a former classmate. But two days later he finds out that
Shura was detained by the police.

- Your retelling did not answer mine.
question. What is worrying about this story?satela? Why did Shaburov go to steal?
From hopelessness?

No, he had some money, he was not hungry, he knew that they would help him.

He didn't learn his lesson when
caught stealing for the first time, "not
indulged in suicide
vision - passed by, did not hurt at all.

Here it is, the painful thought of the writer:
yes, every person has the right to make a mistake, but everyone must realize it, about
to feel, only then will repentance come, which means renewal. Let's have some more
once we listen and think about the words of Tendryakov: “Life teaches us all through the small to realize the big: through the fallen
the apple is the law of universal gravitation, through the childish "please" - the norms of human communication. “He teaches everyone, but, really, not everyone is equally capable of learning.” Are we capable, let everyone answer for himself ...

Literature lessons.-2005.-№1.-p.9-10

What could be worse than being dishonest? There is an opinion that not understanding that you are wrong, sincere unawareness of your harmful actions is much worse. A sense of conscience, it is this that leads to repentance, keeping us from repeating our mistakes in the future. Often, people make unforgivable mistakes, not listening to the arguments of consciousness, sacrificing moral principles. It is the problem of a deal with conscience that Vladimir Tendryakov considers in his text.

The author shares with readers a story that happened to him during the Great Patriotic War. The regiment of the protagonist is in disastrous condition, experiencing a terrible shortage of food. It is in this atmosphere that the writer meets with the lieutenant, who pushes him to go against honor, to show a little "resourcefulness" in case he wants to survive.

The author of the memoirs cannot go against himself for a long time, regretfully taking his honor, his adherence to principles for an inappropriate weakness: “I didn’t have resourcefulness at all ...,” says the soldier, “I suffered from this, despised myself.” Despite this, when he is given an opportunity, he, without hesitation, makes a deal with his conscience and steals bread from his comrades, who were in an equal position with him, who were equally hungry. Oddly enough, immediately, the next moment after the deed, he begins to experience this terrible, eating from the inside, feeling: "Military resourcefulness, no - I'm a thief." Subsequently, his deal with his conscience pays off dearly, he never forgets for a day about what happened, about how he dealt with the principles: “The case is outwardly not significant, but very shameful for me.

There was a time, I thought, I won’t tell it to either my mother or my brother ... "

The position of the writer is very clear. He calls to act according to conscience, he shows that a deal with her, even if it is profitable, in the next moment can turn into an awareness of what has been done, a feeling of disgust for oneself.

I fully share the opinion of the author. The most important thing in life is not to sacrifice principles, to follow your conscience. Very often, actions dictated by a feeling contrary to conscience, in the end, bring more suffering than satisfaction.

Many great writers of all times and peoples think about the issue of conscience and its influence on a person. So, in the world-famous work “the boy in striped pajamas”, written by John Bon, it tells about the friendship of two completely different boys. Main character, German boy Bruno, still small, he does not suspect the existence and purpose of concentration camps and cannot even imagine that a small complex located near their house and fenced with wire is one of them. That is why, when one day he meets Jewish boy Shmuel, who lives behind a barrier, he, without hesitation, offers him friendship. One day, Bruno finds his friend at his house peeling vegetables. He convinced Shmuel that nothing bad would happen if he took a break, had a bite to eat, that he, Bruno, was not afraid of Lieutenant Ketler, who ordered Shmuel to work, and, in which case, would take him on. Upon the return of the lieutenant, all Bruno's courage evaporates, he is unable to tell the truth, to admit what he has done. He understands that he let his friend down, but his fear does not allow him to act according to his conscience. Subsequently, the feelings about the deed do not leave the boy for a minute, he is afraid to meet a friend, to look into his eyes.

Soviet writer V. Zheleznyakov, in his story "Scarecrow", tells the story of a new student in the class, Lena Bessoltseva. Classmates consider her eccentric, they don’t really like her in the team, but Lena doesn’t take it seriously, she considers it a joke. Our heroine is sympathetic to her classmate Dima and, precisely for this reason, when he exposes the whole class to the teacher, she takes all the blame without hesitation. The class announces a boycott for the girl, and although Dima realizes that he was wrong, he makes a deal with his conscience and does not dare to tell the true state of affairs. He is a coward, for him authority in the class is more important than the truth.

Conscience, although unpleasant, is a very important feeling for a person's personality. It does not allow us to commit bad actions, directs us to the true path. This text once again proved how a deal with conscience can lead to disastrous consequences.

Updated: 2017-03-25

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Real USE text 2018. Tendryakov. About bread. main wave. Russian texts exam language 2018. exam options in Russian language 2018. The real text of the exam in the Russian language 2018.

We all spent a month in a reserve regiment across the Volga. We, this is so, are the remnants of the units defeated beyond the Don, which have reached Stalingrad. Someone was again thrown into battle, and we were taken to the reserve, it would seem - lucky, some kind of rest from the trenches. Rest ... two heavy lead biscuits a day, cloudy water instead of stew. Sending to the front was greeted with joy.

Another farm on our way. The lieutenant, accompanied by the foreman, went to clarify the situation.

Half an hour later the foreman returned.

Guys! he announced enthusiastically. - I managed to knock out: two hundred and fifty grams of bread and fifteen grams of sugar on the snout!
Who will get bread with me?.. Come on! - I was lying next to him, and the foreman pointed his finger at me.
I had a flash of thought ... about resourcefulness, cowardly, nasty and dull.
Right on the porch, I spread out a raincoat, and loaves began to fall on it - seven and half more.
The foreman turned away for a second, and I put half a loaf under the porch, wrapped the bread in a raincoat, and put it on my shoulder.
Only an idiot would expect the foreman not to notice the disappearance of a loaf cut in half. No one touched the resulting bread, except for him and me. I am a thief, and now, right now, in a few minutes this will become known ... Yes, to those who, like me, have not eaten anything for five days. As I!
In my life, I happened to do bad things - I lied to teachers so that they would not put a deuce, more than once I gave my word not to fight and did not hold back my words, once while fishing I stumbled upon someone else's confused line, on which a chub was sitting, and took it off the hook ... But every time I found an excuse for myself: I didn’t learn the task - I had to finish reading the book, I fought again - so he climbed first, removed the chub from someone else’s rope - but the rope was swept away by the current, mixed up, the owner himself would never have found him ...
Now I'm not looking for excuses. Oh, if only I could go back, get the hidden bread, put it back in the cape!
From the side of the road towards us with an effort - every bone aches - the soldiers began to rise. Gloomy, dark faces, bent backs, lowered shoulders.

The sergeant-major opened his cape, and the heap of bread was greeted with respectful silence.

In this respectful silence, a bewildered voice was heard:

And where? .. There was half a loaf!

There was a slight movement, dark faces turned towards me, from all sides - eyes, eyes, a terrible alertness in them.

Hey, you! Where?! I ask you!

I was silent.
An elderly soldier, whitened blue eyes, wrinkled cheeks, a gray chin from stubble, a voice without malice:

It will be better, boy, if you confess.
There is a grain of strange, almost unbelievable sympathy in the voice of the elderly soldier. And it is more unbearable than swearing and amazement.

Why talk to him! One of the guys raised his hand.

And I involuntarily twitched. And the guy just adjusted his cap on his head.

Don't be afraid! he said contemptuously. - Beat you ... Get your hands dirty.

And suddenly I saw that the people around me were strikingly beautiful - dark, exhausted from the campaign, hungry, but their faces were somehow faceted, clearly stuccoed. Among beautiful people- I'm ugly.
Nothing is worse than feeling unable to justify yourself to yourself.
I was lucky, in the communications company of the Guards Regiment, where I ended up, there was no one who would see my shame. Over and over again, with petty deeds, I won my self-respect - I climbed first on a line break under heavy fire, tried to take on a coil with a heavier cable , if he managed to get an extra pot of soup from the cook, he did not consider it his prey, he always shared it with someone. And no one noticed my altruistic "exploits", they thought it was normal. And this is what I needed, I did not pretend to exclusivity, I did not even dare to dream of becoming better than others.
I never stole again in my life. Somehow I didn't have to.

Tendryakov Vladimir

Hunting more than bondage

Autumn 1948.

On the Tverskoy boulevard behind the back of cast-iron Pushkin, maples rage in a crimson rage, old men sit numbly on benches, children laugh.

The cast-iron back of Pushkin, who has not yet been expelled to the square, is a kind of outpost; the literary settlement of the capital begins from it. Right there on Tverskoy house Herzen. Away at the end of the boulevard - a mansion where he lived out his last years Patriarch Gorky, where at one time he treated Stalin, Molotov, Voroshilov, Yagoda and others from the state Olympus to literary dinners. In the backyards of these hospitable patriarchal chambers Alexei Tolstoy cozily existed, the last of the Tolstoy counts in our literature. He was a regular guest at Gorky's dinner parties, and gossips they say that the count masterfully got the hang of making the Olympians laugh, tumbling over his head on the carpet. And even further, bypassing the old Moscow lanes - Skatertny, Khlebny, Knife, lies the former Povarskaya Street, on it is the landowner's mansion, glorified in "War and Peace" by Leo Tolstoy. Here is the board of the Writers' Union, here is the writers' club of Moscow, here is the writers' restaurant. Here, in fact, the end of the literary settlement.

But, probably, nowhere is the lithosphere as dense as in Herzen's house. And if there in the toilet on the wall you read what was written at random: “Dick the price of Herzen’s house!”, then do not rush to be indignant, because this wall revelation sounds like this:

« Fuck the price of Herzen's house!
Usually fence inscriptions are flat,
I agree with this
V. Mayakovsky!

So to speak, a symbiosis of squareness with the classics.

In the 1920s, the famous tavern "Pegasus Stall" was located here. In the mezzanine, the same V. Mayakovsky, who so mercilessly blasphemed the house of Herzen, chased balls around the billiards, in a ferocious bass defended the right of agitation in poetry:

Nowhere but
As in Mosselprom!

And below him, in the basement, that is, in the "Stable" itself, the drunk Yesenin heartily poured out to his friends-feasters:

The rude will be given joy.
Gentle is given sadness.
I need nothing,
I don't feel sorry for anyone.

But in the autumn of 1948, Yesenin hanged himself long ago and Mayakovsky shot himself.

And in the house of Herzen for many years government agency- Literary Institute named after Gorky.

It must be the smallest institute in the country; in all five courses we, students, are sixty-two people, former soldiers and schoolchildren, future poets and prose writers, hungry and ragged noisy geniuses. Where once Mayakovsky played billiards, we have a conference room where the drunk Yesenin cried tears and rhymes - a student hostel, twenty-five beds side by side in moldy gloomy walls. At night, this basement dormitory turns into a courtroom, litigating furiously until morning world literature, bunks are turned into tribunes, great authorities are overthrown, poems are recited in passing, and a recently composed hymn is sung:

And old Sholom Aleichem
Wants to become Sholokhov.

Around the institute, right there in the courtyard of Herzen's house and beyond, many writers lived. Almost every morning, the lanky, lanky poet Ruderman would appear at our door.

Eh, tachanka-Rostovite,
Our pride and beauty!

The offspring lived rapidly, forgetting its parent. "Tachanka" was sung in all corners of the country, and Ruderman did not have enough for tobacco:

Let's smoke guys.

He was treated to "carnations".

Somewhere behind the back of our institute, on Bolshaya Bronnaya, a certain Julius Markovich Iskin lived in those years. He did not make the world happy, like Ruderman, with a victorious song like an epidemic, he did not fall into orphanhood, he did not come to us to “shoot carnations”, and therefore we did not suspect his existence, although he enjoyed some fame in the Writers' Union, was even an old friend of Alexander Fadeev himself.

He, Yulia Iskina, has a small, but separate two-roomed flat filled with books. His wife Dina Lazarevna works at a publishing house, and his daughter Dashenka goes to school. The household is run by Aunt Klasha, a fifty-year-old wiry woman with a mild character and an incorruptible conscience.

Limes were planted along Gorky Street. Having defeated Unter den Linden in Berlin, we diligently hid the central street of our capital under the lime trees. It has long been noticed - the winners imitate the defeated enemy.

"Deutschland, Deutschland, uber alles!" - "Germany - above! .." Ha! .. In the ashes and in disgrace! Who is above all in faith? ..

Am I the sweetest in the world,
All blush and whiter? ..

The great leader at the banquet raised a toast to the health of the Russian people:

Because it is the most outstanding nation of all the nations that make up the Soviet Union.

Everything Russian suddenly began to evoke sublimely painful pride, even Russian swearing. What is not in Russian, what resembles foreign - everything is hostile. Cigarettes-cloves "Nord" became "North", the French roll turns into a Moscow roll, Edison Street disappears in Leningrad ... By the way, why is it believed that Edison invented the electric light bulb? Lie! Insinuation! Attack against Russian priority! The light bulb was invented by Yablochkov! And the plane is not the Wright brothers, but Mozhaisky. And the steam engine is not Watt, but Polzunov. And, of course, Marconi has no right to be considered the inventor of radio ... Russia is the birthplace of the law of conservation of substances and bread kvass, socialism and pancakes, class consciousness and bast shoes with onuchs. There were rumors that one dissertator proved - not in jest! - in a special dissertation: Russia is the birthplace of elephants, because elephants and mammoths descended from one common ancestor, and this ancestor in time immemorial grazed in the "open spaces of the wonderful homeland", and not in otherworldly India.

We were winners. And there are no more vulnerable people than the winners. To win and not feel complacent. To feel self-satisfied and not imbued with hostile suspicion: are you being accepted as you deserve?

"Deutschland, Deulschland uber alles!" The pacified Germans cleared the broken "Unter den Linden" of ruins and rebuilt it.

Limes were planted on Gorky Street.

In Moscow, and throughout the country, a mass hunt was going on in the newspaper pages. They caught those who wore pseudonyms, drove them into dead ends and ruthlessly opened the brackets.

Hunted and planted lindens ...

(1) I still remember that conversation with Sonya Potekhina's father that I had after parent meeting. (2) Vasily Petrovich then began it himself:

(3) - Heard: a straight line is shorter than a curve - geometry! (4) And everyone believes in it, they don’t want to understand - in life, the geometry is completely different, there curved paths are always shorter than straight lines. (5) And what do you, a teacher of literature, teach children?

(6) - Russian literature at least. (7) And she is famous for the fact that she understands the complicated life better than others. (8) Yes, in a confusing, yes, in a complex one!

(9) - Do you teach - be only honest and nothing else?

(11) - And do no harm to anyone - teach?

(13) - And do not be afraid of the strong, help the weak, tear yourself away - also teach?

(15) - Ah! - triumphed my interlocutor. - And this is not called living by a ruler! (16) You don’t teach geometry from books! (17) 3 confusing, difficult, but do something straightforward!

(18) - Would you like me to teach - be dishonest, be mean, dodge, do not miss the opportunity to do evil, give in to the strong, don’t help the weak ... (19) Really, Vasily Petrovich, do you want your daughter like this see?

(20) - I want ... - Vasily Petrovich even suffocated from indignant excitement. - I want one thing - that my Sonya was happy, fit! (21) So that you know in advance that the mountains are steep, and the abysses will meet in life, you can’t stomp right away, go around constantly. (22) If you can be honest, then be, but if you can’t, be clever, don’t be like your father, who climbed right through and hurt his forehead ... (23) I want you to understand, and firmly understand that for everyone is kind and loving you won’t become big love and don’t expect special kindness from others. (24) I want you not to rush at those who are stronger, who can easily break your backbone, but be careful, sometimes out of great need and could bow. (25) I want to not be a naive fool. (26) That's what I want! (27) Is it clear? (28) Now, if you taught my Sonya this dexterous science, I would be the first to bow at your feet.

(29) - To teach this to everyone or just one of your daughters?

(30) - Everyone, everyone, so that they are not lop-eared!

(31) - So what will happen, Vasily Petrovich, - everyone will perceive science, everyone will not be lop-eared, but dodgers, everyone will try to deceive each other, break the backbone of those who are weaker ... (32) In the bad world of Sonya live have to. (33) Doesn't it scare you?

(34) - And what to do when he, the world, is what it is, good word not worth it? (35) And it’s impossible to change it to another, better one - only one. (36) There is no way out - adapt to it.

(37) - You can’t change our world to another, but try to fix it somehow ...

(38) - Oh, don't teach our children to fix the world. (39) Why do I need the whole world! (40) Can I deal with him, with the whole world? (41) Or can I hope that Sonya can handle it? (42) I haven’t lost my mind yet - I don’t consider myself or her great Napoleon! (43) I small man, and it will not grow into a large one.

(44) I need very little - so that my own daughter lives happily. (45) And the rest, let them somehow get settled without me ... (46) And you!

Tendryakov Vladimir Fedorovich (1923-1984) - prose writer, author of sharply conflicting stories about the village, spiritual and moral problems of society.

Main problems:

1. The problem of moral values ​​and their choice in the upbringing of the younger generation (What should children be taught? How does Russian literature help in this?)

2. The problem of the relationship between a person and the world (Can a person alone change the world, make it better?)

1. Children need to be vaccinated with eternal moral values: be honest, kind, keep feeling dignity, and Russian literature helps in this. Education must be based on true values; educator should rely on best qualities in a person, and not to educate rogues and opportunists.