Vladimir Yegorovich Makovsky (1846-1920) was born into a family with rich cultural traditions. His father, E. I. Makovsky, was one of the founders of the famous School of Painting, Sculpture and Architecture in Moscow, from which many outstanding masters of art came out.
People who were already famous for their contribution to art often gathered in the parental home - composer M. I. Glinka, writer N. V. Gogol, actor M. S. Shchepkin, artists K. P. Bryullov, V. A. Tropinin and others . The mother of Vladimir Yegorovich played music and sang. So it is not surprising that children who have grown
in the atmosphere of art - in addition to Vladimir, the family had two more sons and two daughters - they also became creative people over time. All three brothers became artists, and their younger sister Maria became a singer. Vladimir Yegorovich himself also had a beautiful voice inherited from his mother, played the guitar and violin. The boy became interested in drawing at an early age, and this interest later grew into the business of a lifetime.
The first drawing lessons were given to Vladimir Makovsky by the famous artist V. A. Tropinin. Makovsky studied with him later, becoming a student at the School of Painting, Sculpture and Architecture. The young man graduated from this educational institution with a silver medal.
In his work, Makovsky assigned a significant place to ordinary people. The artist most often took plots for paintings from life, choosing such moments when the characters and relationships of people were most clearly revealed. When in 1873 Makovsky received the title of academician for the painting “Lovers of Solovyov”, and the painting was exhibited at the World Exhibition in Vienna, the writer F. M. Dostoevsky described it as follows: “... in these small pictures, in my opinion, there is even love to humanity, not only to Russian in particular, but even in general.
Makovsky was an active participant and was even elected a member of the board of the Association of Traveling Art Exhibitions, which were organized to make art accessible to the general public. He taught at the School of Painting, Sculpture and Architecture in Moscow, then at the Academy of Arts in St. Petersburg, and later became its rector. Created several sketches for painting the Cathedral of Christ the Savior in Moscow. Among the students of V. E. Makovsky are the artists A. E. Arkhipov, V. N. Baksheev, E. M. Cheptsov.
Like most of Makovsky’s works, the painting “Foster and Dear Mother” is based on real events. The painting was acquired by the Samara merchant Shikhobalov, a philanthropist and friend of Makovsky. For some time, the canvas was in the collection of Shikhobalov, and after the revolution of 1917, this collection entered the fund of the Samara City Museum. Now it is the Samara Art Museum, the painting is still there.
The author of the picture himself told Shikhobalov that the event depicted in the picture took place in the family of his acquaintance artist. This family once adopted a boy, the son of a simple peasant woman, and raised him as their own son. But one day the child's own mother appeared and claimed her rights to her son.
The picture emotionally captures the moment when this woman appears. The family was just sitting at the table. Serving, the interior of the room, the clothes of family members unequivocally testify to material wealth. The table is covered with a white tablecloth, expensive dishes are placed on it. The windows have light white curtains and heavy draperies from ceiling to floor. One of the walls, behind the back of the peasant woman who came, is hung with paintings. The boy's adoptive parents are smartly dressed: the father is in a dark suit, the mother is in a white dress with a large collar trimmed with a lush frill. In addition to the foster parents, the boy and his own mother, in the back of the room there is an elderly woman in a white cap and a light dress, over which a large black shawl is thrown over - probably this is the child's nanny.
The artist vividly depicted the shock experienced by the foster mother and the nanny, and the child himself. The nanny clasped her hands, the foster mother convulsively clutches the child to her. And the boy himself, judging by the way he clung to his foster mother and looks at his own mother incredulously, timidly, is clearly not eager to leave the house, which he used to consider his own. And here it is not only about prosperity, although it is obvious, of course, that the boy is well fed and clothed. There is a wicker chair with a napkin by the table - apparently, this is usually the place of the boy at the table. He probably has his own room, and toys that peasant children have not even seen. But the main thing is that the boy is loved here, he has become native to these people who take care of him. And he got used to them and fell in love with them, considered them his parents. It is unknown if he remembers his birth mother; judging by the way he clung to his foster mother, it is unlikely that this woman, who suddenly appeared in the house, is just someone else's aunt for him, it is not clear why she wants to pick him up and take him away no one knows where.
The peasant woman, the mother of the child, does not seem to be particularly embarrassed because she broke into someone else's house, once left her son, and now, in fact, invades his happy life, rudely breaks it. It is not known what prompted her to come for the child. Her face does not express any feelings for her son - only pressure and confidence that she has the right to take him away.
Counterbalancing the dismay of the foster mother and the child himself is the firmness of the father. He smokes a cigar, calmly looking at the woman who burst into his house. He is not going to give in to her. He probably intends to offer her money so that she won't bother his family anymore. She also came for the boy, perhaps in the expectation that now, when he has grown up, he will begin to work for her.
The boy's own mother is not richly dressed. She is wearing dark outerwear, from under which one can see the hem of a brown skirt and a motley striped long apron, which were worn by peasant women. A red scarf is tied on the head. In one hand, the woman holds a small bag with things, in the other - a piece of paper, apparently a document confirming her right to a child.
You can guess how events will unfold further. The child will remain in the family, the peasant woman who left him will take the money offered by the foster father and leave. But the peace and tranquility of the people living in this house is still destroyed. The woman who raised the child is used to considering him her own, she is scared at the thought that he will be taken away from her. The child, perhaps, did not even suspect that his father and mother were not his relatives. How long will it take before the mental storm subsides, caused by the appearance of someone else's aunt, who calls herself his mother?
It is impossible not to admit that the artist skillfully showed the deepest experiences of people whom he captured at a dramatic moment for them.
Glossary:
- an essay based on Makovsky's painting two mothers
- description of the picture in Makovsky two mothers, foster mother and native
- Makovsky two mothers description of the picture
– Two mothers exposition
- Makovsky two mothers
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"Maternal Happiness"
1869.
Private collection.
"Young mother with child"
1871.
Metropolitan Museum, New York.
"A young mother watching a sleeping child."
1871.
Private collection.
"The Happiness of Motherhood"
1878.
Private collection.
"Motherland".
1883.
Private collection.
"Mother with child"
1887.
Private collection.
"Mother".
1932.
Alexander Maksovich Shilov.
“In the cell (Mother Paisia). Pukhtitsky Monastery.
1988.
1. A woman in relation to her children.
The son perplexedly stroked his mother's hand and was silent. ( M. Gorky. Life of Klim Samgin.)
2. The female in relation to her cubs.
At night they take them [lambs and kids] to their mothers. ( Sholokhov. Raised whole.)
3. Appeal to a female person.
Lizanka got up from the hoop and began to clean up her work. - What are you, my mother! deaf, right? cried the countess. ( Pushkin. Peak lady.)
4. The name of a nun, as well as the wife of a clergyman (priest, deacon), usually attached to a name or title.
Mother Pulcheria herself, the Moscow abbess, sent bows and gifts with pilgrims to her. ( Melnikov-Pechersky. In forests.)
In what (or how) the mother gave birth- without clothes, naked.
“Dictionary of the Russian language. Moscow”, “Russian language”. 1982
Albrecht Altdorfer.
"Christ says goodbye to his mother."
1520.
National Gallery, London.
When trouble suddenly overtakes a person, his relatives and friends often receive some kind of signal of misfortune. At the same time, paintings fall, dishes burst, clocks stop, visions appear, doubles of a dying person appear. When one boy, left in the care of his grandmother, began to drown in the river, his mother, being thousands of kilometers away, clearly saw her child, desperately floundering in the water. They fished him out, and it was decided not to tell his mother anything, so as not to disturb her in vain. But the mother came, told all the details of the adventure, showed the place where the boy almost drowned. This and many other similar cases are described in the book by L. Vasilyeva "Suggestion at a distance."
Anatoly Strozhkov. "Living beings mysterious connection." "Behind seven seals" No. 7 2005.
Vasily Vasilievich Vereshchagin.
"Letter to the motherland (Letter to mother)".
1901.
The mother was called mother, mother, mother, mother, mother, parent.
Vasily Belov. Lad. Moscow, Young Guard. 1982
Vasily Grigorievich Perov.
Mother with sick child.
1878.
Vasily Ivanovich Surikov.
"Salome brings the head of John the Baptist to her mother Herodias."
1872.
“Two mothers. The mother is adopted and dear.
1906.
Samara Regional Art Museum, Samara.
"Mother and daughter".
1886.
State Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow.
Engraving by I.M. Bernigerota.
Middle of the 18th century.
"Johanna Elisabeth, Princess of Anhalt-Zerbst, nee Princess of Holstein-Gottorp, mother of Empress Catherine II."
1870s
"Motherland is calling."
1941.
Elizaveta Merkuryevna Boehm (Endaurova).
“They look sad and meek Blue eyes. I didn’t forget, you know, the orphan of Mother’s affection!
Ivan Akimovich Akimov.
"Grand Duke Svyatoslav, kissing his mother and children upon his return from the Danube to Kyiv."
1773.
"Mother with child"
1915.
Karl Pavlovich Bryullov.
"A mother waking up from the crying of a child."
1831.
Carl Steiben.
"Peter the Great, saved by his mother from the fury of archers."
"Mother".
1913.
"Mother".
1919.
Drawing for the magazine "Flame".
Leonardo da Vinci.
"The fetus in the mother's womb."
"Nursing mother".
M. Savitsky.
"Women-mothers".
Fragment of the mural “Patriotic War. 1944".
Unknown artist.
"Portrait of a Woman (Proposed portrait of the mother of the poet M. Yu. Lermontov)".
Nicholas Konstantinovich Roerich.
"Mother of the World".
1930.
Nikolai Nevrev.
"Peter I in a foreign outfit in front of his mother, Tsarina Natalya, Patriarch Andrian and teacher Zotov."
1903.
"Mother and son".
Between 1716 and 1742.
"A mother teaches her daughter to write."
Ferdinand Georg Waldmüller.
"Portrait of the mother of Captain von Stirl-Holzmeister".
Frederic Leighton.
"Mother and child".
A huge number of books, musical works have been written on the theme of the Great Patriotic War, many films have been shot.
This topic is truly inexhaustible, because it has turned the lives of several tens of millions of people, divided it into "before" and "after".
Unfortunately, not all mothers, wives and daughters waited for their sons, husbands, fathers from the front, from the battlefields.
I believe that only a small part of the pain and suffering that people had to endure in those years can be conveyed in paintings or with the help of other artistic means.
One of these fates formed the basis of the painting by V. Igoshev "She is still waiting for her son."
It shows an elderly woman standing at the open gate of her old house.
Her eyes are full of longing, sadness, expectation, suffering.
I think she's been in that position for a long time.
Every day a woman goes to this place in the hope that her beloved son will return, alive and unharmed.
She invariably looks into the distance, but, unfortunately, the miracle does not happen.
Perhaps she herself understands that there is no point in suffering and waiting, but she cannot help herself.
The whole meaning of her post-war life comes down to this.
Behind the grandmother is a house with a clean, open window.
There are flowers on the windowsill, and the architraves are painted blue.
A woman tries her best to keep it in good condition, but every year it becomes more and more difficult for her to do this.
Next to the window, the author painted thin white birch trees, as if reminding us that we need to live on, no matter what.
Despite the tragedy of the picture, the woman is shown in a white blouse and scarf, and a black skirt.
From under the scarf we see the gray hair of the heroine.
Her face is wrinkled and her eyes are narrowed.
We can only guess what thoughts visit her gray-haired head at this moment.
Maybe she remembers how her son went to the front, how he grew up ... In any case, her thoughts are only about one thing - about her own, only child, whom she will never see again.
If you understand that your need is charitable help, then pay attention to this article.
Those who, without your participation, may lose an exciting business, turned to you for help.
Many children, boys and girls, dream of becoming pilots on the track.
They go to classes where, under the guidance of an experienced coach, they learn the techniques of high-speed driving.
Only constant exercises allow you to overtake correctly, build a trajectory and choose the speed.
The basis of victory on the track is a good qualification. And, of course, professional cards.
Children who participate in clubs are completely dependent on adults, because lack of money and broken parts do not allow them to participate in competitions.
How much pleasure and new sensations the guys experience when they get behind the wheel and start driving the car.
Maybe not only the champions of Russia, but even the future world champions in this sport grow up in such a circle?!
You can help the children's section of karting, which is located in the city of Syzran. They're in a dire situation right now. Everything rests on the enthusiasm of the leader: Sergey Krasnov.
Read my letter and look at the photos. Pay attention to the passion with which my pupils work.
They love this developing sport and really want to continue their education.
I appeal to you with a request to help the karting section survive in the city of Syzran.
Previously, there were TWO young technician stations in the city, and each had a karting section. Karting was also in the Palace of Pioneers. Now there is not a single station in the city, and the circle in the Palace of Pioneers was also destroyed. Closed - does not turn to say, just destroyed!
We fought, wrote letters, everywhere they got the same answer. About five years ago I went to the governor of the Samara region for a reception. He did not accept, but the deputy accepted me.
After that, we were given a room where we were based. We have a lot of children who want to go karting, but very poor material conditions do not allow recruiting children.
And most of the karts need repair. This is the position our circle is in.
We also turned to the mayor of the city of Syzran for help. We are waiting for help for the second year. We decided to contact you via the Internet for help.
Contact me, address for PACKAGES, 446012 Samara region, Syzran, Novosibirsk street 47, you can contact via social networks SERGEY IVANOVICH KRASNOV. [email protected] Always, being on the wave of success, one must do works of mercy, give alms. And if the Lord helps in difficult circumstances, then do not forget about gratitude later. Then He will not forget about your needs.
Even in oral poetry, the image of a mother acquired the captivating features of a keeper of the hearth, a capable and faithful wife, a protector of her own children and an unfailing guardian of all the destitute, offended and offended. These defining qualities of the mother's soul are reflected and sung in Russian folk tales and folk songs. The people have always honored the Mother! It is no coincidence that the people also live a lot of good, affectionate words about the mother. We do not know by whom they were first said, but they are very often repeated in life and pass from generation to generation. These are legends and epics about how mothers saved their children, their relatives. One such example is Avdotya Ryazanochka from a folk tale about the courage of a simple woman mother. This epic is remarkable in that not a male warrior, but a mother woman "won the battle with the horde." She stood up for her relatives, and thanks to her courage and intelligence, Ryazan did not "go to hell." Here it is - the immortality of true poetry, here it is - the enviable length of its existence in time!
Numerous proverbs and sayings about mother describe the most sincere, deepest feelings for a loved one.
Where the mother is, there the child goes.
The mother feeds the children, as the land of the people.
Mother's anger is like spring snow: and a lot of it falls, but it will soon melt.
A man has one mother, and he has one Motherland.
Native land - mother, foreign side - stepmother.
The bird is happy for spring, and the baby is happy for its mother.
There is no sweeter friend than a mother.
Whoever has a uterus has a smooth head.
When the sun is warm, when the mother is good.
Maternal prayer from the day of the sea takes out (takes out).
Whoever honors his mother and father never perishes forever.
Maternal blessing does not sink in water, and does not burn in fire.
Without a father - half an orphan, and without a mother - the whole orphan.
You can find bird's milk even in a fairy tale, but you will not find another father-mother in a fairy tale.
Blind puppy and he crawls to his mother.
The mother's word does not pass by.
There are many relatives, and the mother is the dearest of all.
To live with your mother is neither sorrow nor boredom.
God rules by the mother's word.
Not the father-mother who gave birth, but the one who made him drink, nurtured and taught good.
The mother beats as she strokes, and the stranger strokes as she beats.
Without a mother dear, the flowers bloom colorlessly.
Mother dear - an inextinguishable candle.
Warm, warm, but not summer; good, good, but not my own mother.
Mother's heart warms better than the sun.
And how much has been written about the mother, how many poems, songs, wonderful thoughts and statements!
The child recognizes the mother by her smile.
Lev Tolstoy
Mom is the most beautiful word uttered by a person.
Kyle Gibran
Everything beautiful in a person comes from the rays of the sun and from Mother's milk...
Maksim Gorky
I do not know an image brighter than a mother, and a heart more capacious for love than a mother's heart.
Maksim Gorky
This is the great destiny of a woman - to be a mother, the keeper of the hearth.
V. Belov
There is nothing holier and more selfless than Mother's love; every affection, every love, every passion is either weak or selfish in comparison with it.
V. Belinsky.
The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.
Peter de Vries
There is no such flower in the world, in any field or in the sea, such a pearl as a child on her mother's lap.
O. Wild
The Lord cannot be everywhere at the same time, and therefore he created mothers.
Mario Pioso
There is a holy word - Mother.
Omar Khayyam
A man who was the undisputed favorite of his mother carries through his whole life a feeling of a winner and confidence in luck, which often lead to real success.
Z. Freud
There is nothing that a mother's love cannot endure.
Paddock
The future of the nation is in the hands of mothers.
O. Balzac
A mother's heart is an abyss, in the depths of which there is always forgiveness.
O. Balzac
Give us the best mothers and we will be the best people.
J.-P. Richter
For some reason, many women think that giving birth to a child and becoming a mother are one and the same. With the same success one could say that one and the same thing is to have a piano and to be a pianist.
S. Harris
A great feeling, until the end / We keep it alive in our souls. / We love our sister and wife and father, / But in agony we remember our mother.
ON THE. Nekrasov
We will forever glorify that woman whose name is Mother.
M. Jalil
Motherhood ennobles a woman when she renounces everything, renounces, sacrifices everything for the sake of the child.
J. Korchak
A real mother is tender, like the petal of a freshly blossomed flower, and firm, courageous, inflexible to evil and merciless, like a fair sword.
V. Sukhomlinsky
Motherhood is both a great joy and a great knowledge of life. A return, but also a reward. There is probably no more sacred meaning of existence in the world than to raise a worthy native person next to you.
Ch. Aitmatov
The most beautiful word on earth is mother. This is the first word that a person utters, and it sounds equally gentle in all languages. Mom has the kindest and most affectionate hands, they can do everything. Mom has the most faithful and sensitive heart - love never goes out in it, it does not remain indifferent to anything. And no matter how old you are, you always need a mother, her caress, her look. And the more your love for your mother. The happier and brighter life.
Z. Resurrection
Mother ... The dearest and closest person. She gave life, gave a happy childhood. The mother's heart, like the sun, shines always and everywhere, warming us with its warmth. She is the best friend, a wise adviser. Mother is a guardian angel. It is no coincidence that many writers and poets, creating their works, drew inspiration precisely from memories of childhood, home, and mother.
Surprisingly, all his life, as a gift, he kept the lullaby that his mother sang to him in early childhood, the Russian poet M.Yu. Lermontov. This was reflected in his poem "An angel flew through the midnight sky", in "Cossack lullaby". In it, the power of maternal love blesses, admonishes a small child, conveys to him the ideals of the people as a revelation in the simplest and most uncomplicated words. Lermontov deeply felt the wisdom, the power of maternal feeling, which guides a person from the first minutes of his life. It is no coincidence that the loss of a mother in early childhood had such a painful effect on the mind of the poet.
The theme of the mother sounded really deep in the poetry of Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov. Closed and reserved by nature, Nekrasov literally could not find enough bright words and strong expressions to appreciate the role of his mother in his life. Both the young man and the old man, Nekrasov always spoke of his mother with love and admiration. Such an attitude towards her, in addition to the usual sons of affection, undoubtedly followed from the consciousness of what he owed her:
And if I shake it off easily over the years
From the soul of my pernicious traces,
Correcting everything reasonable with your feet,
Proud of the ignorance of the environment,
And if I filled my life with struggle
For the ideal of goodness and beauty,
And wears the song composed by me,
Living love deep features -
Oh, my mother, I am inspired by you!
You saved a living soul in me!
(From the poem "Mother"
In the poem "Mother" Nekrasov recalls that as a child, thanks to his mother, he became acquainted with the images of Dante and Shakespeare. She also taught him love and compassion for those “whose ideal is reduced grief”, that is, for serfs. The image of a woman-mother is also vividly represented by Nekrasov in his other works “In full swing the village suffering”, “Orina, the soldier's mother”.
Listening to the horrors of war
With each new victim of the battle
I feel sorry for not a friend, not a wife,
I feel sorry for the hero himself...
Alas! wife will be comforted
And the best friend will forget a friend.
But somewhere there is one soul -
She will remember to the grave!
Among our hypocritical deeds
And all the vulgarity and prose
Alone I spied in the world
Holy, sincere tears -
Those are the tears of poor mothers!
They can't forget their children
Those who died in the bloody field,
How not to raise a weeping willow
Of their drooping branches...
"Who will protect you?" - the poet addresses in one of his poems. He understands that, besides him, there is no one else to say a word about the sufferer of the Russian land, whose feat is invisible, but great!
Nekrasov traditions in the depiction of the bright image of a peasant mother in the lyrics of Sergei Yesenin. A bright image of the poet's mother passes through Yesenin's work. Endowed with individual traits, it grows into a generalized image of a Russian woman, appears even in the youthful poems of the poet, as a fabulous image of the one who not only gave the whole world, but also made happy with the gift of song. This image also takes on the specific earthly appearance of a peasant woman, busy with everyday affairs: “Mother cannot cope with grips, bends low ...”. Fidelity, constancy of feelings, cordial devotion, inexhaustible patience are generalized and poeticized by Yesenin in the image of a mother. "Oh, my patient mother!" - this exclamation escaped from him not by chance: a son brings a lot of unrest, but a mother's heart forgives everything. So there is a frequent motive for Yesenin's son's guilt. On his trips, he constantly recalls his native village: it is dear to the memory of youth, but most of all, the mother yearning for her son attracts him there. "Sweet, kind, old, tender" mother is seen by the poet "at the parental dinner." The mother is worried - her son has not been at home for a long time. How is he in the distance? The son tries to reassure her in letters: “There will be time, dear, dear!” In the meantime, "evening unspeakable light" is streaming over the mother's hut. The son, "still as gentle", "dreams only of how soon from the rebellious longing to return to our low house." In the "Letter to the Mother" filial feelings are expressed with piercing artistic power: "You are my only help and joy, you are my only inexpressible light."
Yesenin was 19 years old when, with amazing penetration, he sang in the poem "Rus" the sadness of maternal expectation - "waiting for gray-haired mothers." The sons became soldiers, the royal service took them to the bloody fields of the world war. Rarely-rarely come from them "doodles, deduced with such difficulty", but everyone is waiting for their "frail huts", warmed by a mother's heart. Yesenin can be placed next to Nekrasov, who sang "the tears of poor mothers."
They can't forget their children
Those who died in the bloody field,
How not to raise a weeping willow
Of their drooping branches.
These lines from the distant XIX century remind us of the bitter cry of the mother, which we hear in Anna Andreevna Akhmatova's poem "Requiem". Akhmatova spent 17 months in prison queues in connection with the arrest of her son, Lev Gumilyov: he was arrested three times: in 1935, 1938 and 1949.
I've been screaming for seventeen months
I'm calling you home...
Everything is messed up,
And I can't make out
Now who is the beast, who is the man,
And how long to wait for the execution.
The suffering of the mother is associated with the state of the Virgin Mary; the suffering of the son - with the torments of Christ crucified on the cross.
Magdalene fought and sobbed,
The beloved student turned to stone,
And to where silently Mother stood,
So no one dared to look.
Mother's grief, it is boundless and inexpressible, her loss is irreparable, because this is her only son.
The image of the mother occupies a special place in the work of Marina Tsvetaeva. She is dedicated not only to poetry, but also to prose: "Mother and Music", "Mother's Tale". In autobiographical essays and letters of Tsvetaeva, one can find many references to Maria Alexandrovna. The poem "Mom" (collection "Evening Album") is also dedicated to her memory. It is very important for the author to emphasize the spiritual influence of the mother on her daughters. Nature is subtle and deep, artistically gifted, she introduced them to the world of beauty. From an early age, music for Tsvetaeva was identical to her mother's voice: "In the old Straussian waltz for the first time / We heard your quiet call." “Mother is the lyrical element itself,” writes Tsvetaeva.
"Passion for poetry - from the mother." Thanks to her, and for children, art has become a kind of second reality, sometimes more desirable. The soul, Maria Alexandrovna was convinced, must be able to resist everything ugly and bad. Tirelessly tending to children's dreams (Without you, only a month looked into them!), You led your little ones past the Bitter life of thoughts and deeds. The mother taught the children to feel pain - their own and others, managed to turn them away from the lies and falsehood of external manifestations, giving them early wisdom: "From an early age, who is sad is close to us, / Laughter is boring ...". Such a moral attitude gave rise to inner restlessness, the inability to be satisfied with worldly well-being: “Our ship is not set off at a good moment / And sails at the behest of all winds!” The Mother Muse was tragic. In 1914, Tsvetaeva wrote to V.V. Rozanov: “Her tormented soul lives in us - only we open what she hid. Her rebellion, her madness, her thirst have reached us to the point of screaming. The load taken on the shoulders was heavy, but it was also the main wealth of the young soul. The spiritual heritage, bequeathed by the mother, meant the depth of experiences, the brightness and sharpness of feelings and, of course, the nobility of the heart. All the best in herself, as Tsvetaeva admitted, she owes to her mother.
In the autobiographical novel "Childhood of Bagrov-grandson" S.T. Aksakov wrote: “The constant presence of my mother merges with my every memory. Her image is inextricably linked with my existence, and therefore it does not stand out much in fragmentary pictures of the first time of my childhood, although he constantly participates in them.
I remember the bedroom and the lamp
toys, warm bed
……………………………….
You cross, kiss,
I remember, I remember your voice!
Icon lamp in the dusk of a corner
And shadows from lamp chains...
Weren't you an angel?
An appeal to the mother, tenderness, gratitude to her, later repentance, admiration for her courage, patience - the main theme of the lyrics, which always remains relevant, regardless of the century in which a true poet works.
The image of the mother becomes central in the poetic world of Tvardovsky and rises from the private - dedications to his own mother - to the universal and highest aspect of motherhood in Russian poetry - the image of the Motherland. The most important for the poet motives of memory, native places (small motherland), filial duty and filial gratitude are combined precisely in the image of the mother, and this combination is a separate topic in his work. Tvardovsky described the real fate of his mother in a 1935 poem “You came with one beauty to the man's house... The story of one fate takes place against the backdrop of history in general, the plot of private life against the backdrop of the general life of the country. It was not in vain that Tvardovsky called himself a prose writer: in this poem he consistently tells the story of his mother's life, dispensing with comparisons, metaphors, vivid rhymes. “Mother and son”, “You will timidly raise him ...”). The best in this series of poems of the 30s is “You will timidly raise him ...”, where a genuine image of the hero’s mother is created. During the war years, the image of the mother becomes more significant in Tvardovsky's work, but now the image of the mother is equated with the image of the universal Motherland, the country, being correlated with the images of ordinary peasant women. year. Here, as such, there is no image of the mother; here the mother lives only in the memory of the son, and therefore his feelings are revealed more than the image of the mother, which has become incorporeal. This poem is the last one where the image of the mother appears, it completes the maternal line in Tvardovsky's poetry, and itself becomes the song that "in memory alive”, in which the image of the mother, and the poet’s own mother, and the generalized image of motherhood are eternally alive: peasant women, hard workers, women with a difficult fate.
The image of the mother has always carried the features of drama. And he began to look even more tragic against the background of the Great Patriotic War, terrible in its bitterness. Who more than a mother endured suffering at this time? There are many books about this. Of these, the books of mothers E. Kosheva "The Tale of the Son", Kosmodemyanskaya "The Tale of Zoya and Shura" ...
Can you tell me about it -
What years did you live in!
What an immeasurable heaviness
On women's shoulders lay down!
(M, Isakovsky).
Vasily Grossman's mother died in 1942 at the hands of fascist executioners. In 1961, 19 years after his mother's death, his son wrote her a letter. It was preserved in the archive of the writer's widow. "When I die, you will live in a book that I dedicated to you and whose fate is similar to yours." And that hot tear shed by the writer for his old mother burns our hearts and leaves a scar of memory on them.
The war is the main theme of some of the works of Ch. Aitmatov, as well as in the story "Mother's Field". In it, the image of Aitmatov's mother is ambiguous. Firstly, this is a mother who gave birth to a child (the heroine of the story, Tolgonai, sent her three sons to the war and lost all three). Secondly, the people's mother: remembering the children, Tolgonai is proud and understands that "maternal happiness comes from people's happiness."The thought of the power of maternal love, as capable of uniting, making relatives, resurrecting, runs like a red thread: “I swallowed bread with tears and thought:“ The bread of immortality, you hear, my son Kasym! And life is immortal, and labor is immortal!
Ivan Bunin writes very reverently and tenderly about his mother in his works. He compares her bright appearance with a heavenly angel:
I remember the bedroom and the lamp
toys, warm bed
And your sweet, meek voice:
"Guardian angel over you!"
……………………………….
You cross, kiss,
Remind me that he is with me
And with faith in happiness you will enchant ...
I remember, I remember your voice!
I remember the night, the warmth of the bed,
Icon lamp in the dusk of a corner
And shadows from lamp chains...
Weren't you an angel?
