What is the name of a means of characterizing a character based on a description of his appearance (“His appearance seemed wonderful to me ...”)?
Read the fragment of the work below and complete tasks B1-B7; C1, C2.
I got out of the kibitka. The storm still continued, although with less force. It was so dark that you could poke out your eyes. The owner met us at the gate, holding a lantern under the skirt, and led me into the chamber, which was cramped, but rather clean; the beam illuminated her. A rifle and a tall Cossack hat hung on the wall.
The owner, a Yaik Cossack by birth, seemed to be a peasant of about sixty, still fresh and vigorous. Savelich brought in a cellar after me, demanded a fire to prepare tea, which I never seemed to need so much. The owner went to work.
— Where is the counselor? I asked Savelich.
“Here, your honor,” a voice answered me from above. I looked at the bed and saw a black beard and two sparkling eyes. - "What, brother, vegetate?" - “How not to vegetate in one thin Armenian coat! There was a sheepskin coat, but what's the sin to hide? laid the evening at the kisser: the frost did not seem great. At this moment the host entered with a boiling samovar; I offered our counselor a cup of tea; the man got down from the floor. His appearance seemed remarkable to me: he was about forty, medium height, thin and broad-shouldered. Gray hair showed in his black beard; living large eyes and ran. His face had an expression rather pleasant, but roguish. Her hair was cut in a circle; he was wearing a tattered coat and Tatar trousers. I brought him a cup of tea; he took it and winced. “Your honor, do me such a favor, order me to bring a glass of wine; tea is not our Cossack drink. I gladly granted his wish. The owner took out a damask and a glass from the stall, went up to him and, looking into his face: “Ehe,” he said, “again you are in our land! Where did God bring it from?" My leader blinked significantly and answered with a saying: "I flew into the garden and pecked hemp; my grandmother threw a pebble - but past. Well, what about yours?"
- Yes, ours! - answered the owner, continuing the allegorical conversation. - They began to call for evening, but the priest does not order: the priest is visiting, the devil is in the churchyard. - "Be quiet, uncle," my tramp objected, "it will rain, there will be fungi; and there will be fungi, there will be a body. And now (here he blinked again) plug the ax behind your back: the forester walks. Your honor! to your health!" - With these words, he took a glass, crossed himself and drank in one breath. Then he bowed to me and returned to the bed.
I could then understand nothing from this thieves' conversation; but after that I guessed that it was about the affairs of the Yaitsky army, at that time just pacified after the 1772 riot of the year. Savelich listened with an air of great displeasure. He glanced suspiciously first at the owner, then at the counselor. The inn, or, in the locals, umet, was on the sidelines, in the steppe, far from any village, and looked very much like a robber's pier. But there was nothing to be done. It was impossible to think about continuing the path. Savelich's uneasiness amused me greatly. In the meantime, I settled down for the night and lay down on a bench. Savelich made up his mind to get out on the stove; the owner lay down on the floor. Soon the whole hut was snoring, and I fell asleep like the dead.
A. S. Pushkin "The Captain's Daughter"
The Captain's Daughter is often called a story. Indicate another, no less common genre definition of this work.
Explanation.
The Captain's Daughter is often referred to as a novel. According to the definition of the novel, The Captain's Daughter really tells the life of the main characters in her most critical period.
Answer: novel.
Guest 21.02.2016 20:18
Isn't this a historical novel? On Wikipedia it is indicated that this is a historical novel!
Tatiana Statsenko
That's right, The Captain's Daughter is a historical novel. There can be many varieties within the genre: historical, socio-psychological, psychological novel, etc. But these are narrower intra-genre definitions. Therefore, it would be more correct to answer the question of the assignment: a novel.
In the above fragment, the conversation between the counselor and the owner of the inn is transmitted. What is this form of communication called?
Explanation.
Dialogue is a literary or theatrical form of oral or written exchange of statements (remarks) in a conversation between two or more people.
Answer: dialogue.
Answer: dialogue
Establish a correspondence between the three characters appearing in this fragment and the actions that they have to perform.
Write down the numbers in response, arranging them in the order corresponding to the letters:
| A | B | IN |
Explanation.
A-2: Grinev was seriously wounded in a duel with Shvabrin.
B-4: It is at the very moment when Savelyich throws himself on his knees before Pugachev with a request to pardon the master (Grinev), he remembers Grinev and changes his mind.
B-1: The counselor will be Emelyan Pugachev, who will lead the peasant uprising in 1773.
Answer: 241.
Answer: 241
What is the name of a significant detail in a literary text (“A rifle and a high Cossack hat hung on the wall”)?
Explanation.
An artistic detail is a particularly significant, highlighted element of an artistic image, an expressive detail in a work that carries a significant semantic and ideological and emotional load.
Answer: art piece.
Answer: art detail | detail
Events in The Captain's Daughter are transmitted on behalf of Grinev. What is the name of such a character in a work of art?
Explanation.
The narrator (narrator) is a character on behalf of whom the narration is conducted in a work of art. In literature, the narrator observes and describes what the author has come up with.
Answer: storyteller.
Answer: narrator
Name the artistic method, the principles of which were formed in the late works of A. S. Pushkin and were reflected in The Captain's Daughter.
Explanation.
A. S. Pushkin is considered the founder of realism in Russian literature. Realism is a true depiction of reality.
Answer: realism.
Answer: realism
What testifies to Grinev's nascent sympathy for his new acquaintance?
Explanation.
Grinev, finding himself safe in the inn, is immediately interested in the fate of his counselor: "Where is the counselor?" The sympathy of Pyotr Grinev for his new acquaintance is evidenced by the appeal to him only as “brother”, and the offer to drink hot tea. The author also emphasizes that the face of the stranger seemed to Grinev "quite pleasant."
Is it my side, side,
Unfamiliar side!
Why didn't I come to you myself,
Is it not a good horse that brought me:
Brought me, good fellow,
Agility, gallant vivacity
And khmelinushka tavern.
Old song.
My travel thoughts were not very pleasant. My loss, at the then prices, was important. I could not help admitting in my heart that my behavior in the Simbirsk tavern was stupid, and I felt guilty before Savelitch. All this tormented me. The old man sat gloomily on the irradiation, turning away from me, and was silent, occasionally only grunting. I certainly wanted to make peace with him and did not know where to start. Finally I said to him: “Well, well, Savelich! full, reconcile, guilty; I can see that it's my fault. I messed up yesterday, but I offended you in vain. I promise to be smarter and listen to you in the future. Well, don't be angry; let's make up." “Oh, Father Pyotr Andreevich! he answered with a deep sigh. - I'm angry with myself; I myself am to blame. How could I leave you alone in a tavern! What to do? Sin beguiled: he took it into his head to wander to the deacah, to see the godfather. So something: went to the godfather, but sat down in prison. The trouble and only!.. How will I show myself before the eyes of the gentlemen? what will they say, how will they know that the child is drinking and playing. In order to console poor Savelich, I gave him my word that I would never have a single penny at my disposal without his consent. Little by little he calmed down, although from time to time he still grumbled to himself, shaking his head: “A hundred roubles! is it easy!” I was approaching my destination. Sad deserts stretched around me, criss-crossed by hills and ravines. Everything was covered with snow. The sun was setting. The kibitka rode along a narrow road, or rather, along a trail laid by peasant sledges. Suddenly the driver began to look away, and finally, taking off his hat, turned to me and said: “Barin, would you order me to come back?”- What is this for? - Time is unreliable: the wind rises slightly; see how he sweeps away the powder.— What a trouble! - Do you see what is there? (The coachman pointed east with his whip.) “I see nothing but the white steppe and the clear sky. - And there - there: this is a cloud. I actually saw a white cloud at the edge of the sky, which I took at first for a distant mound. The coachman explained to me that the cloud foreshadowed a blizzard. I heard about the blizzards there and knew that entire wagon trains were covered with them. Savelich, in accordance with the coachman's opinion, advised him to turn back. But the wind seemed to me not strong; I hoped to get to the next station in advance and ordered to go faster. The coachman galloped; but kept looking to the east. The horses ran together. The wind meanwhile grew stronger by the hour. The cloud turned into a white cloud, which rose heavily, grew and gradually enveloped the sky. A fine snow began to fall, and suddenly it began to fall in flakes. The wind howled; there was a blizzard. In an instant, the dark sky mingled with the snowy sea. Everything is gone. “Well, sir,” shouted the coachman, “trouble: a snowstorm!” ... I looked out of the wagon: everything was dark and whirlwind. The wind howled with such fierce expressiveness that it seemed animated; the snow covered me and Savelich; the horses walked at a pace - and soon they stopped. "Why aren't you eating?" I asked the driver impatiently. “Yes, why go? - he answered, getting down from the irradiation, - who knows where they stopped anyway: there is no road, and darkness is all around. I began to scold him. Savelich stood up for him. “And the hunt was not to obey,” he said angrily, “would have returned to the inn, would have eaten tea, would have rested until morning, the storm would have subsided, we would have gone further. And where are we going? Welcome to the wedding! Savelich was right. There was nothing to do. The snow fell like that. A snowdrift was rising near the wagon. The horses stood with bowed heads and occasionally trembling. The coachman walked around, having nothing to do, adjusting the harness. Savelich grumbled; I looked in all directions, hoping to see at least a sign of a vein or a road, but I could not distinguish anything except the muddy whirling of a snowstorm ... Suddenly I saw something black. "Hey, coachman! I shouted, “look: what’s blackening there?” The coachman began to peer. “But God knows, master,” he said, sitting down in his place, “it’s not a cart, a tree is not a tree, but it seems that it is moving. It must be either a wolf or a man." I ordered to go to an unfamiliar object, which immediately began to move towards us. Two minutes later we caught up with the man. - Hey, good man! the coachman shouted to him. Tell me, do you know where the road is? - The road is here; I'm standing on a solid strip, - answered the roadman, - but what's the point? “Listen, little man,” I said to him, “do you know this side? Will you take me to bed for the night? “The side is familiar to me,” answered the traveler, “thank God, it is well-trodden and traveled up and down. Yes, you see, what the weather: you will just lose your way. It is better to stop here and wait, perhaps the storm will subside and the sky will clear up: then we will find the way by the stars. His composure encouraged me. I had already decided, betraying myself to God's will, to spend the night in the middle of the steppe, when suddenly the roadman sat down nimbly on the box and said to the driver: “Well, thank God, they lived not far; turn right and go." Why should I go to the right? the coachman asked with displeasure. Where do you see the road? I suppose: the horses are strangers, the collar is not your own, don’t stop chasing. The coachman seemed right to me. “Indeed,” I said, “why do you think that lived nearby?” “Because the wind pulled from there,” answered the traveler, “and I hear it smells of smoke; know the village is near. His sharpness and subtlety of instinct amazed me. I told the driver to go. The horses trod heavily in the deep snow. The kibitka moved quietly, now driving onto a snowdrift, now collapsing into a ravine and wading over to one side or the other. It was like sailing a ship on a stormy sea. Savelich groaned, constantly pushing against my sides. I lowered the mat, wrapped myself in a fur coat and dozed off, lulled by the singing of the storm and the rocking of a quiet ride. I had a dream that I could never forget, and in which I still see something prophetic when I reflect with it on the strange circumstances of my life. The reader will excuse me: for he probably knows from experience how akin to a person to indulge in superstition, despite all possible contempt for prejudice. I was in that state of feelings and soul when materiality, yielding to dreams, merges with them in obscure visions of the first dream. It seemed to me that the storm was still raging and we were still wandering through the snowy desert ... Suddenly I saw the gate and drove into the manor yard of our estate. My first thought was the fear that the priest would not be angry with me for my involuntary return to my parents' roof and would not consider it a deliberate disobedience. With anxiety, I jumped out of the wagon and saw: mother meets me on the porch with an air of deep chagrin. “Hush,” she says to me, “father is ill at death and wants to say goodbye to you.” Stricken with fear, I follow her into the bedroom. I see the room is dimly lit; people with sad faces are standing by the bed. I quietly approach the bed; Mother raises the curtain and says: “Andrei Petrovich, Petrusha has arrived; he returned when he learned about your illness; bless him." I knelt down and fixed my eyes on the patient. Well?.. Instead of my father, I see a peasant with a black beard lying in bed, looking at me cheerfully. I turned to my mother in bewilderment, saying to her: “What does this mean? This is not a dad. And why should I ask a peasant for a blessing? “It doesn’t matter, Petrusha,” my mother answered me, “this is your imprisoned father; kiss his hand and let him bless you ... ”I did not agree. Then the peasant jumped out of bed, grabbed the ax from behind his back and began to swing in all directions. I wanted to run... and I couldn't; the room filled with dead bodies; I stumbled over bodies and slid in bloody puddles... A terrible peasant called me affectionately, saying: "Don't be afraid, come under my blessing..." Horror and bewilderment seized me... And at that moment I woke up; the horses were standing; Savelich pulled my hand, saying: "Come out, sir; you've arrived." — Where did you come? I asked, rubbing my eyes. — To the inn. The Lord helped, stumbled right on the fence. Come out, sir, and get warm. I got out of the kibitka. The storm still continued, although with less force. It was so dark that you could poke out your eyes. The owner met us at the gate, holding a lantern under the skirt, and led me into the chamber, which was cramped, but rather clean; the beam illuminated her. A rifle and a tall Cossack hat hung on the wall. The owner, a Yaik Cossack by birth, seemed to be a peasant of about sixty, still fresh and vigorous. Savelich brought in a cellar after me, demanded a fire to prepare tea, which I never seemed to need so much. The owner went to work. — Where is the counselor? I asked Savelich. “Here, your honor,” a voice answered me from above. I looked at the bed and saw a black beard and two sparkling eyes. "What, brother, vegetate?" - “How not to vegetate in one thin Armenian coat! There was a sheepskin coat, but what's the sin to hide? laid the evening at the kisser: the frost did not seem great. At that moment the owner entered with a boiling samovar; I offered our counselor a cup of tea; the man got down from the floor. His appearance seemed remarkable to me: he was about forty, medium height, thin and broad-shouldered. There was gray in his black beard; living large eyes and ran. His face had an expression rather pleasant, but roguish. Her hair was cut in a circle; he was wearing a tattered coat and Tatar trousers. I brought him a cup of tea; he took it and winced. “Your honor, do me such a favor, order me to bring a glass of wine; tea is not our Cossack drink. I gladly granted his wish. The owner took out a damask and a glass from the stall, went up to him and, looking into his face: “Ehe,” he said, “again you are in our land! Where did God bring it from? My guide blinked significantly and answered with a saying: “I flew into the garden, pecked hemp; grandmother threw a pebble - yes past. Well, what about yours? “Yes, ours! - answered the owner, continuing the allegorical conversation. “They began to call for evening, but the priest does not order: the priest is visiting, the devil is in the graveyard.” - “Be quiet, uncle,” my tramp objected, “it will rain, there will be fungi; and there will be fungi, there will be a body. And now (here he blinked again) plug the ax behind your back: the forester walks. Your honor! For your health!" At these words, he took a glass, crossed himself and drank in one gulp. Then he bowed to me and returned to the bed. I could then understand nothing from this thieves' conversation; but afterwards I guessed that it was about the affairs of the Yaitsky army, at that time just pacified after the 1772 rebellion. Savelich listened with an air of great displeasure. He glanced suspiciously first at the owner, then at the counselor. An inn, or, in the local way, be able to, was on the sidelines, in the steppe, far from any village, and looked very much like a robber's pier. But there was nothing to be done. It was impossible to think about continuing the path. Savelich's uneasiness amused me greatly. In the meantime, I settled down for the night and lay down on a bench. Savelich made up his mind to get out on the stove; the owner lay down on the floor. Soon the whole hut was snoring, and I fell asleep like a log. When I woke up quite late in the morning, I saw that the storm had subsided. The sun was shining. Snow lay in a dazzling shroud on the boundless steppe. The horses were harnessed. I paid the landlord, who took such a moderate payment from us that even Savelich did not argue with him and did not bargain in his usual way, and yesterday's suspicions completely disappeared from his head. I called the counselor, thanked him for the help, and ordered Savelich to give him half a ruble for vodka. Savelich frowned. “Half a vodka! he said, what is it for? Because you deigned to give him a ride to the inn? Your will, sir: we don't have extra fifty dollars. Give everyone for vodka, so you yourself will soon have to starve. I couldn't argue with Savelich. The money, according to my promise, was at his full disposal. I was annoyed, however, that I could not thank the person who helped me out, if not out of trouble, then at least out of a very unpleasant situation. “All right,” I said coolly, “if you don’t want to give half a ruble, then take something out of my dress for him. He is dressed too lightly. Give him my bunny coat." "Have mercy, Father Pyotr Andreevich!" Savelich said. “Why does he need your bunny sheepskin coat?” He will drink it, dog, in the first tavern. “It’s not your sadness, old lady,” said my tramp, “whether I drink or not. His nobility favors me with a fur coat from his shoulder: it is his master's will, and your serf's business is not to argue and obey. “You are not afraid of God, robber! Savelich answered him in an angry voice. “You see that the child still does not understand, and you are glad to rob him, for the sake of his simplicity. Why do you need a lord's sheepskin coat? You won't put it on your cursed shoulders. “Please don’t be smart,” I said to my uncle, “now bring a sheepskin coat here.” - Lord, lord! groaned my Savelich. - The hare sheepskin coat is almost brand new! and it would be good for someone, otherwise a bare drunkard! However, the hare sheepskin coat appeared. The man immediately began to try it on. In fact, the sheepskin coat, from which I also managed to grow, was a little narrow for him. However, he somehow managed to put it on, tearing at the seams. Savelich almost howled when he heard the threads crackle. The tramp was extremely pleased with my gift. He escorted me to the wagon and said with a low bow: “Thank you, your honor! God bless you for your virtue. I will never forget your favors." He went in his direction, and I went on, not paying attention to Savelich's annoyance, and soon forgot about yesterday's blizzard, about my leader and about the hare's sheepskin coat. Arriving in Orenburg, I went straight to the general. I saw a tall man, but already hunched over by old age. His long hair was completely white. The old, faded uniform resembled a warrior from the time of Anna Ioannovna, and his speech had a strong German accent. I gave him a letter from my father. At his name, he glanced at me quickly: “Oh my! - he said. “Is it true, it seems Andrei Petrovich was still your age, and now what a hammer he has! Ah, fremya, fremya! He opened the letter and began to read it in an undertone, making his remarks. “Dear Sir Andrei Karlovich, I hope that Your Excellency”... What kind of ceremony is this? Phew, how embarrassing for him! Of course: discipline is the first thing, but is this how they write to an old comrade? .. “your excellency has not forgotten” ... um ... “and ... when ... the late Field Marshal Ming ... campaign ... also ... Carolina "... Ehe, brooder! so he still remembers our old pranks? “Now about the matter ... I’ll bring my rake to you” ... um ... “to keep it in tight reins” ... What are Jeshov's mittens? This must be a Russian proverb... he repeated, turning to me. “That means,” I answered him with an air as innocent as possible, “to be kind, not too strict, to give more freedom, to keep him in tight rein. — Hm, I understand... "and not to give him free rein"... no, apparently Yeshov's mittens mean something else... "At the same time... his passport"... Where is he? Ah, here... "to write off to Semyonovsky"... All right, all right: everything will be done... "Let me hug myself without rank and... an old comrade and friend" - ah! Finally I guessed... and so on and so forth... Well, father," he said, after reading the letter and putting my passport aside, "everything will be done: you will be transferred as an officer to the *** regiment, and if you lose, then tomorrow go to the Belogorsk fortress, where you will be in the team of Captain Mironov, a kind and honest man. There you will be in the service of the present, you will learn discipline. There is nothing for you to do in Orenburg; scattering is harmful to a young person. And today you are welcome: dine with me. “It doesn’t get any easier from time to time! - I thought to myself, - what did it serve me that even in the womb I was already a guard sergeant! Where did it take me? To the *** regiment and to a remote fortress on the border of the Kirghiz-Kaisak steppes! .. ”I dined with Andrei Karlovich, the three of us with his old adjutant. Strict German economy reigned at his table, and I think that the fear of sometimes seeing an extra guest at my idle meal was partly the reason for my hasty removal to the garrison. The next day I said goodbye to the general and went to my destination.
Where are you going?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.
To the inn. The Lord helped, stumbled right on the fence. Come out, sir, and get warm.
I got out of the kibitka. The storm still continued, although with less force. It was so dark that you could poke out your eyes. The owner met us at the gate, holding a lantern under the skirt, and led me into the chamber, which was cramped, but rather clean; the beam illuminated her. A rifle and a tall Cossack hat hung on the wall.
The owner, a Yaik Cossack by birth, seemed to be a peasant of about sixty, still fresh and vigorous. Savelich brought in a cellar after me, demanded a fire to prepare tea, which I never seemed to need so much. The owner went to work.
Where is the leader? - I asked Savelich.
“Here, your honor,” a voice answered me from above. I looked at the bed and saw a black beard and two sparkling eyes. "What, brother, vegetate?" - “How not to vegetate in one thin Armenian coat! There was a sheepskin coat, but what's the sin to hide? laid the evening at the kisser: the frost did not seem great. At that moment the owner entered with a boiling samovar; I offered our counselor a cup of tea; the man got down from the floor. His appearance seemed remarkable to me: he was about forty, medium height, thin and broad-shouldered. There was gray in his black beard; living large eyes and ran. His face had an expression rather pleasant, but roguish. Her hair was cut in a circle; he was wearing a tattered coat and Tatar trousers. I brought him a cup of tea; he took it and winced. “Your honor, do me such a favor, order me to bring a glass of wine; tea is not our Cossack drink. I gladly granted his wish. The owner took out a damask and a glass from the stall, went up to him and, looking into his face: “Ehe,” he said, “again you are in our land! Where did God bring it from? My guide blinked significantly and answered with a saying: “I flew into the garden, pecked hemp; grandmother threw a pebble - yes by. Well, what about yours?
Yes, ours! - answered the owner, continuing the allegorical conversation. - They began to call in the evening, but the priest did not order: the priest was visiting, the devils were in the churchyard. - “Be quiet, uncle,” my tramp objected, “it will rain, there will be fungi; and there will be fungi, there will be a body. And now (here he blinked again) plug the ax behind your back: the forester walks. Your honor! For your health!" - At these words, he took a glass, crossed himself and drank in one breath. Then he bowed to me and returned to the bed.
I could then understand nothing from this thieves' conversation; but afterwards I guessed that it was about the affairs of the Yaitsky army, at that time just pacified after the 1772 rebellion. Savelich listened with an air of great displeasure. He glanced suspiciously first at the owner, then at the counselor. The inn, or, in the local language, umet, was on the sidelines, in the steppe, far from any village, and looked very much like a robber's wharf. But there was nothing to be done. It was impossible to think about continuing the path. Savelich's uneasiness amused me greatly. In the meantime, I settled down for the night and lay down on a bench. Savelich made up his mind to get out on the stove; the owner lay down on the floor. Soon the whole hut was snoring, and I fell asleep like a log.
When I woke up quite late in the morning, I saw that the storm had subsided. The sun was shining. Snow lay in a dazzling shroud on the boundless steppe. The horses were harnessed. I paid the landlord, who took such a moderate payment from us that even Savelich did not argue with him and did not bargain in his usual way, and yesterday's suspicions completely disappeared from his head. I called the counselor, thanked him for the help, and ordered Savelich to give him half a ruble for vodka. Savelich frowned. “Half a vodka! - he said, - what is it for? Because you deigned to give him a ride to the inn? Your will, sir: we don't have extra fifty dollars. Give everyone for vodka, so you yourself will soon have to starve. I couldn't argue with Savelich. The money, according to my promise, was at his full disposal. I was annoyed, however, that I could not thank the person who helped me out, if not out of trouble, then at least out of a very unpleasant situation. “All right,” I said coolly; “if you don’t want to give half a ruble, then take something out of my dress for him. He is dressed too lightly. Give him my bunny coat."
Have mercy, Father Pyotr Andreevich! - said Savelich. - Why does he need your rabbit sheepskin coat? He will drink it, dog, in the first tavern.
Educational
Develop the skills of text analysis, expressive reading and retelling.
Educational
· to promote students' understanding of such moral categories as "honor", "mercy", "goodness", "nobility".
Equipment
multimedia projector, presentation for the lesson.
During the classes:
Org. Moment
2. Checking homework.
It is checked during the discussion of the topic.
Work on the topic of the lesson.
Homework.
Grade.
6. teacher's word
Today, guys, we have an unusual lesson - a lesson in literature and the use of knowledge about history, because we will talk about a historical figure and one of the heroes of A.S. Pushkin's novel "The Captain's Daughter", namely Emelyan Pugachev - the leader of the peasant uprising of 1773 - 1775
Pushkin portrays Pugachev as a talented, courageous leader of a peasant uprising; emphasizes his mind, sharpness, courage, humanity, connection with the people.
All these features give us the appearance of a genuine Pugachev. (S.M. Petrov) Slide 1.
Pugachev is a monster, born outside the laws, because in his nature there was not even the slightest measure of goodness, that good beginning, that spiritual part that distinguishes a rational creation. (V.B. Bronevsky) Slide 1.
o Read the statements of the literary critic S. Petrov and the Polish poet V. Bronevsky.
o Which image, in your opinion, corresponds to the one you saw in the story of A.S. Pushkin?
o Indeed, Emelyan Pugachev is an ambiguous nature, a mystery personality.
o Write down the theme of the lesson: "The complexity and ambiguity of the image of Pugachev. Popular uprising in the author's assessment."
We must learn from the lesson:
o in the process of working on a work, to see and evaluate the meaning and knowledge of artistic details, portrait sketches, dialogues, composition of the work as a whole;
o show the historical validity and psychological accuracy of Pugachev's characterization;
o understand the idea of creating a controversial image of Pugachev.
7. Knowledge update
· What is the difference between an artistic image and a historical one (a historical image is a real person who left a mark on history)?
Name the techniques for creating an artistic image in literature. ( scheme: techniques for creating an image (portrait, speech, actions, landscape, interior, chronotope, psychological analysis, direct author's characterization, characterization by other characters, artistic detail, prototype).
Today, working on the image of Emelyan Pugachev, we will focus on two that most clearly reflect the theme of the lesson : portrait, speech.
What is a PORTRAIT? We know two concepts of a portrait: a portrait in fine arts, which is created with the help of brushes, paints. And there is also a verbal portrait created with the help of words. Therefore, we will pay attention to verbal details. They will help us understand the inner world of the hero.
Checking d / s (work with the table.)
| CHAPTER | CHARACTERISTICS OF PUGACHEV |
| II Ch. "Counselor" | “His appearance seemed remarkable to me. He was about forty years old, of medium height, thin and broad-shouldered. Gray hair appeared in his black beard, lively large eyes ran around. His face had a rather pleasant, but picaresque expression. he was wearing a tattered coat and Tatar trousers." Cold-blooded, quick-witted, black beard, sparkling, roguish eyes. (113 pp.) What do you think the person's details say? |
| Chapter VII "Attack" | "Among them, on a white horse, rode a man in a red caftan, with a naked saber in his hand: it was Pugachev himself." Page 150. "Pugachev was sitting in an armchair on the porch of the commandant's house. He was wearing a beautiful Cossack caftan trimmed with galloons. A tall sable hat with gold tassels was pulled down over his sparkling eyes. His face seemed familiar to me." Page 152. He looked straight, frowned gloomily, extended his sinewy hand. In a work of art, a verbal portrait can be concentrated in one place and can be scattered. So, what features, colors expands the portrait? How do they complement the idea of a character, of his nature? (ambitious, vain, imagining himself a king) |
| Chapter VIII "Uninvited guest" | "Pugachev sat in the first place, leaning on the table and propping up his black beard with his broad fist. His features, regular and rather pleasant, did not show anything ferocious." Page 159. What do these portrait details say? (a man is in front of us). He looked intently, occasionally screwing up his left eye with an amazing expression of slyness and mockery. |
| XI Ch. "Rebellious Freedom" | "Pugachev was sitting under the images, in a red caftan, in a high hat and importantly akimbo." Page 177. "The eyes sparkled." Page 179. ": he was dressed in a travel way, in a fur coat and in a Kirghiz cap." Page 182. "The face of the impostor showed contented pride." Page 183. "The boastfulness of the robber seemed amusing to me." Guys, Find the key word by which Pushkin defines Pugachev. Slide 3. |
| XII ch. "Orphan" | He looked menacingly, softened, fixed his fiery eyes, his face darkened, he said laughing. “We parted amicably. Pugachev, seeing Akulina Pamfilovna in the crowd, shook his finger and winked significantly; then he got into the wagon, ordered to go to Berda, and when the horses started off, he once again leaned out of the wagon and shouted to me: “Farewell, your honor ! Maybe we'll see each other sometime." P. 190. Kingship disappears, human qualities appear. |
· So, guys, we have considered various descriptions of Pugachev. What qualities does Pugachev have? ( guide, leader, king, impostor, Man - appears as a contradictory personality).
· So I saw Emelyan Pugachev A.S. Pushkin, but the artists could not remain indifferent and repeatedly portrayed the leader of the uprising. Today we will tell you the story of one portrait.
Working with illustration
The Historical Museum of Moscow keeps a portrait of Yemelyan Ivanovich Pugachev, painted by an unknown artist. Relatively recently, restorers discovered that it was written on top of another portrait. When the outer layer of paint was partially removed, it turned out that the portrait was painted on canvas depicting Empress Catherine II. Trying to restore the history of the double portrait, the writer O. Chaikovskaya noted: “It is easy to imagine that this large royal portrait hung in some official institution, the rebels broke in here, tore it off the wall, pierced it in several places, but then someone realized "that it is a sin for such a good canvas to disappear. And perhaps the idea immediately arose over the portrait of the empress to paint a portrait of the peasant tsar. The canvas was repaired, cut off at the edges - and it became the basis for the only genuine Pugachev portrait (except for the one where Pugachev is already depicted prisoners, in chains).
· Do you share the point of view of O. Tchaikovskaya, who states: "This "double" portrait is like a comparison of two kings (especially since the other was smeared with one - this means that in the popular mind one has already defeated the other)?
· Compare the verbal portrait of Pugachev in "The Captain's Daughter" with the image of the peasant leader in the portrait, made, perhaps, from life by an unknown artist? What do literary and pictorial portraits have in common? Support your point of view with quotes from The Captain's Daughter. (consideration of the details of the portrait: clothes, color, eyes, comments on the portrait, whether the portrait of fine art differs from the verbal one)
Let's go back to the text and answer the questions.
· What do you find in common with respect to Pugachev, the author and narrator in The Captain's Daughter and the artist who created such an unusual portrait? In what way do you see the difference in the attitude towards Pugachev of the author of the story and the author of the pictorial portrait?
· (An unknown artist managed to convey the strong, formidable character of Pugachev in the portrait).
SPEECH
In order to see the features of Pugachev's speech, let's turn to the text.
Card with selected replicas of Pugachev.
The owner took out a damask and a glass from the stall, went up to him and, looking into his face: "Ehe," he said, "you're in our land again! Where did God bring you from?" My guide blinked significantly and answered with a saying: "I flew into the garden, pecked at hemp; my grandmother threw a pebble - yes, by. Well, what about yours?"
- Yes, ours! - answered the owner, continuing the allegorical conversation. - They began to call for evening, but the priest does not order: the priest is visiting, the devil is in the churchyard.
"Be quiet, uncle," my tramp objected, "it will rain, there will be fungi; and if there will be fungi, there will be a body. And now (here he blinked again) plug the ax behind your back: the forester walks. Your honor! to your health!" At these words, he took a glass, crossed himself and drank in one gulp. Then he bowed to me and returned to the bed ...
- This, old lady, is not your sadness, - said my tramp, - whether I drink or not. His nobility favors me with a fur coat from his shoulder: it is his master's will, and your serf's business is not to argue and obey.
The tramp was extremely pleased with my gift. He escorted me to the wagon and said with a low bow: "Thank you, your honor! God reward you for your virtue. I will never forget your favors."
Find in the given passages
folk proverbs and sayings;
colloquial words;
permanent epithets;
words of high vocabulary.
How does the character's speech characterize?
· The skill of the writer is manifested in his ability to master the word: the speech of each hero of Pushkin is individual and contains the character traits of the hero. L.N. Tolstoy: ": Pushkin is so amazing that it is impossible to replace a single word in him. And not only can a word not be taken away, but it cannot be added. It cannot be better than what he said."
· The concept of time and space in a work of art also serves to create a literary image.
Who introduced the term chronotope into literary criticism?
(Mikhail Mikhailovich Bakhtin)
The world of the rebels opposes the world of the nobles. These are two artistic worlds, each of which has its own chronotope.
"The Captain's Daughter" - a story by A.S. Pushkin, published in 1836, which is a memoir of the landowner Pyotr Andreevich Grinev about his youth. This is a story about eternal values - duty, fidelity, love and gratitude against the background of historical events unfolding in the country - the uprising of Emelyan Pugachev.
Curious fact. The first edition of the story was published in one of the issues of the Sovremennik magazine without indicating the author of the work.
In the school curriculum, an obligatory item is an essay on this work, where it is necessary to indicate quotes characterizing one or another hero of the story. We offer examples, using which you can supplement your text with the necessary details.
Petr Andreevich Grinev
Petrusha Grinev appears before us as a very young man.
... Meanwhile, I was sixteen years old ...
He is of noble birth.
…I am a natural noble…
The only son of a rather rich, by the standards of that time, landowner.
... We were nine children. All my brothers and sisters died in infancy...
... the priest has three hundred souls of peasants ...
The hero is not very educated, but not so much through his own fault, but because of the very principle of learning at that time.
... in the twelfth year I learned Russian literacy and could very sensibly judge the properties of a greyhound male. At this time, the father hired a Frenchman for me, Monsieur Beaupré ...<…>and although under the contract he was obliged to teach me French, German and all the sciences, he preferred to quickly learn from me how to chat in Russian - and then each of us went about his own business ...
Yes, this is especially and useless to him, because his future is already predetermined by his father.
... My mother was still my belly, as I was already enrolled in the Semenovsky regiment as a sergeant ...
However, he suddenly changes his mind and sends his son to serve in Orenburg.
... in the direction of a deaf and distant ...
... No, let him serve in the army, let him pull the strap, let him sniff gunpowder, let him be a soldier, not a shamaton ...
There, Grinev quickly advances in the service, without making any significant efforts.
... I was promoted to officer. The service didn't bother me...
Personal qualities:
Peter is a man of word and honor.
... Just do not demand what is contrary to my honor and Christian conscience ...
... the duty of honor required my presence in the army of the empress ...
At the same time, the young man is quite ambitious and stubborn.
... My vanity triumphed ...
... Shvabrin was more skillful than me, but I am stronger and more courageous ...
... The reasoning of the prudent lieutenant did not shake me. I stayed with my intention...
... I would prefer the most cruel execution to such vile humiliation ... (kissing Pugachev's hands) ...
Generosity is not alien to him.
…I did not want to triumph over the destroyed enemy and turned my eyes to the other side…
One of the strengths of the character of the hero is his truthfulness.
... I decided to declare the absolute truth before the court, believing this method of justification to be the simplest, and at the same time the most reliable ...
At the same time, he has the strength to admit his guilt if he was wrong.
... Finally, I told him: “Well, well, Savelich! full, reconcile, guilty; I see that it's my fault...
In personal relationships, Peter's romantic, but very serious attitude is manifested.
…I imagined myself to be her knight. I was eager to prove that I was worthy of her power of attorney, and I began to look forward to the decisive moment ...
... But love strongly advised me to stay with Marya Ivanovna and be her protector and patron ...
In relation to his beloved girl, he is sensitive and sincere.
... I took the hand of the poor girl and kissed her, irrigating with tears ...
.. Farewell, my angel, - I said, - farewell, my dear, my desired! Whatever happens to me, believe that my last thought and last prayer will be about you!
Maria Ivanovna Mironova
A young girl, two years older than Pyotr Grinev, has an ordinary appearance.
... Then a girl of about eighteen entered, round-faced, ruddy, with light-brown hair, combed smoothly behind her ears, which were on fire in her ...
Masha is the only daughter of Ivan Kuzmich and Vasilisa Yegorovna Mironov, poor nobles.
... a girl of marriageable age, and what kind of dowry does she have? a frequent comb, and a broom, and an altyn of money (God forgive me!), With what to go to the bathhouse ...
The girl, although gullible and naive, behaves modestly and judiciously.
...with all the gullibility of youth and love...
... I found in her a prudent and sensitive girl ...
... was eminently gifted with modesty and caution ...
The heroine differs from the cutesy girls of the noble circle of that era by her naturalness and sincerity.
... She confessed to me without any affectation her heartfelt inclination ...
... Marya Ivanovna listened to me simply, without feigned shyness, without intricate excuses ...
One of the most beautiful features of Masha's character is her ability to truly love herself and wish her beloved only happiness, even if not with her.
... Whether we will have to see each other, or not, God alone knows; but the century will not forget you; to the grave you alone will remain in my heart ...
... If you find yourself a betrothed, if you love another - God be with you, Pyotr Andreevich; I'm for both of you...
For all her timidity and gentleness, the girl is devoted to her fiancé and can decide on extreme measures if necessary.
…My husband! she repeated. “He is not my husband. I will never be his wife! I better decided to die, and I will die if they don’t save me ... (About Shvabrin)
Emelyan Pugachev
A middle-aged man whose most notable feature was his eyes.
... His appearance seemed remarkable to me: he was about forty, medium height, thin and broad-shouldered. There was gray in his black beard; living large eyes and ran. His face had an expression rather pleasant, but roguish. Her hair was cut in a circle; he was wearing a tattered coat and Tatar trousers...
... living big eyes just ran ...
... Pugachev fixed his fiery eyes on me ...
…his sparkling eyes…
…I looked at the bed and saw a black beard and two sparkling eyes…
... A tall sable hat with golden tassels was pulled down over his sparkling eyes ...
The hero has special signs.
... And in the bath, one can hear, he showed his royal signs on his chest: on one, a two-headed eagle the size of a penny, and on the other, his person ...
The fact that Pugachev comes from the Don is also evidenced by his manner of dressing.
... Don Cossack and schismatic ...
... He was wearing a red Cossack caftan trimmed with galloons ...
Considering his origin, it is not surprising that he is semi-literate, but he himself does not want to openly admit this.
... Pugachev accepted the paper and looked at it for a long time with a significant air. “What are you writing so cleverly? he said at last. “Our bright eyes cannot make out anything here. Where is my chief secretary?
... Lord Enaraly! - Pugachev announced importantly ...
The rebel is a freedom-loving, ambitious and arrogant person, but with clearly expressed leadership qualities and the ability to influence people.
…God knows. My street is cramped; I don't have much will...
... committing unforgivable insolence by taking on the name of the late Emperor Peter III ...
... a drunkard who wandered around the inns, besieged fortresses and shook the state! ...
... I fight anywhere ...
…The face of the impostor depicted contented vanity…
... The appeal was written in rough but strong terms and was supposed to make a dangerous impression on the minds of ordinary people ...
Pugachev is smart, cunning, far-sighted and cold-blooded.
... His sharpness and subtlety of instinct amazed me ...
... I must keep my eyes open; at the first failure, they will redeem their neck with my head ...
…His composure cheered me up……
accountable for one's actions and taking responsibility for one's actions
... it's too late for me to repent. There will be no pardon for me. I will continue as I started...
A nobleman from a noble wealthy family.
... a good surname, and has a fortune ...
It has a rather ugly appearance, and over time it undergoes strong changes for the worse.
... short in stature, with a swarthy face and remarkably ugly, but extremely lively ...
…I was amazed at his change. He was terribly thin and pale. His hair, which had recently been jet black, had turned completely gray; long beard was disheveled ...
Shvabrin was transferred to the Belogorsk fortress from the guard as a punishment.
... this is already the fifth year that he was transferred to us for murder. God knows what sin beguiled him; he, if you please, went out of town with one lieutenant, and they took swords with them, and, well, they stab each other; and Alexey Ivanovich stabbed the lieutenant to death, and even with two witnesses! ...
Proud and intelligent, the hero uses these qualities for evil purposes.
... In his slander, I saw the annoyance of offended pride ...
... I understood the stubborn slander with which Shvabrin pursued her ...
... instead of rude and obscene mockery, I saw in them deliberate slander ... "
... I really did not like his constant jokes about the commandant's family, especially his caustic remarks about Marya Ivanovna ...
Sometimes the character shows outright cruelty and is quite capable of vile deeds.
... I saw Shvabrin standing. His face showed gloomy anger ...
... in vile terms expressing their joy and zeal ...
... He grinned with an evil smile and, raising his chains, got ahead of me ...
…He treats me very cruelly…
... Alexei Ivanovich is forcing me to marry him ...
His character is characterized by vindictiveness and even treachery.
... all the trials that the vile Shvabrin subjected her to ...
... And what is Shvabrin, Alexei Ivanovich? After all, he cut his hair in a circle and now we feast with them right there! Spoiled, nothing to say! ..
... Alexei Ivanovich, who commands in our place of the late father ...
Ivan Kuzmich Mironov
Simple, uneducated, from poor nobles.
... Ivan Kuzmich, who became an officer from soldier's children, was an uneducated and simple man, but the most honest and kind ...
... And we, my father, have only one shower girl Palashka ...
A man of respectable age, who gave 40 years of service, of which 22 years - in the Belogorsk fortress, who participated in numerous battles.
... the old man is cheerful ...
..commandant, a vigorous and tall old man, in a cap and in a Chinese robe ...
... Why is Belogorskaya unreliable? Thank God, we have been living in it for the twenty-second year. We saw both Bashkirs and Kirghiz...
... neither Prussian bayonets nor Turkish bullets touched you ...
A real officer, true to his word.
... The proximity of danger animated the old warrior with extraordinary vivacity ...
... Ivan Kuzmich, although he respected his wife very much, would never have revealed to her the secrets entrusted to him in the service ...
At the same time, the commandant is not a very good leader due to his mild nature.
... Only glory is that you teach soldiers: neither service is given to them, nor you know any sense in it. I would sit at home and pray to God; that would be better...
... Ivan Kuzmich! What are you yawning? Now seat them in different corners for bread and water, so that their foolishness will pass ...
... In the God-saved fortress there were no reviews, no teachings, no guards. The commandant, out of his own free will, sometimes taught his soldiers; but still could not get them all to know which side is right, which is left ...
This is a man honest and devoted, fearless in his fidelity to duty.
... The commandant, exhausted from the wound, gathered his last strength and answered in a firm voice: “You are not my sovereign, you are a thief and an impostor, you hear!” ...
An elderly woman, the wife of the commandant of the Belogorsk fortress.
... An old woman in a padded jacket and with a scarf on her head was sitting by the window ...
... Twenty years ago we were transferred here from the regiment ...
She is a good and hospitable hostess.
... what a master of salting mushrooms! ... ... Vasilisa Egorovna received us easily and cordially and treated me as if she had known each other for a century ...
... In the commandant's house I was accepted as a native ...
She perceives the fortress as her home, and herself as the mistress in it.
... Vasilisa Yegorovna looked at the affairs of the service as if they were her master's, and ruled the fortress as accurately as her own house ...
... His wife controlled him, which was consistent with his carelessness ...
She is a brave and determined woman.
... Yes, you hear, - said Ivan Kuzmich, - a woman is not a timid dozen ...
Curiosity is not alien to her.
... She called Ivan Ignatich, with the firm intention to find out from him the secret that tormented her ladylike curiosity ...
Devoted to her husband until her last breath.
... You are my light, Ivan Kuzmich, a daring soldier's little head! neither Prussian bayonets nor Turkish bullets touched you; not in a fair fight you put your stomach ...
...Together live, together and die...
Arkhip Savelich
The serf family of the Grinevs, who was entrusted with the upbringing and management of the barchuk Petrusha.
... From the age of five, I was given into the hands of the aspiring Savelich, for sober behavior, granted me uncles ...
... Savelich, who was both money, and linen, and a caretaker of my affairs ...
At the time when events unfold, already an elderly person.
... God sees, I ran to shield you with my chest from the sword of Alexei Ivanovich! Damn old age got in the way...
... if you please be angry with me, your servant ...
... I, not an old dog, but your faithful servant, obey the master's orders and have always served you diligently and lived to gray hair ...
... that's your boyar will. For this I bow slavishly...
... Your faithful servant ...
... If you have already decided to go, then I will follow you even on foot, but I will not leave you. So that I can sit behind a stone wall without you! Have I gone crazy? Your will, sir, but I will not leave you behind ...
... Savelich lies at the feet of Pugachev. “Dear father! said the poor uncle. - What do you think about the death of a master's child? Let him go; for him they will give you a ransom; but for the sake of example and fear, they ordered me to hang at least an old man!” ...
