Mikhail Saltykov-Shchedrin - lost conscience. Analysis of the fairy tale lost the conscience of Saltykov-Shchedrin essay Understanding the concept of conscience
No one noticed the loss of something important. Conscience ... People, as before, massively accumulated on the boulevards and in the theater, worried, fussed and did not suspect that they were missing something. It has even become easier for many to harm others, to please, to snitch and gossip. She disappeared suddenly, swiftly. On the eve of the importunate dependent flickered before the eyes, it seemed to the excited imagination. Ghosts stopped tormenting the audience, mental anxiety calmed down. Smart people realized that they were freed from the oppression that made their actions difficult before, and took advantage of
Received freedom. They went into a frenzy, robberies, crimes, general ruin began.
An unhappy conscience lay on the highway - tortured, humiliated, disgraced. She was trampled underfoot, thrown as far as possible. Everyone was surprised that such an absurdity was lying around in the most convenient place. The poor thing could have been lying like that for a very long time, but at last she was lifted up by an unfortunate drunkard who hoped to get a check for her. Suddenly, he felt as if he was pierced by electricity. His cloudy gaze wandered around in search of an explanation for what had happened, and his brain began to free itself from intoxication.
Suddenly
He realized his plight, which he tried to drown out all the last time. At first he was only frightened, then he began to recall all his shameful past, fantasy suggested the details and details of betrayals and betrayals. He began to be afraid to judge himself, tears of repentance flowed like a river. The drunkard saw no other way out than to free himself from his conscience, and went to the tavern, where his acquaintance Prokhorych was engaged in trade. It was to him that our drunkard put a rag with a conscience, for whom it immediately became easier to live.
Prokhorych immediately felt pangs of conscience and began to regret his sins: it is criminal to solder the people. He even began to speak to the visitors of the tavern, explaining to them the perniciousness of vodka. The kisser tried to convey his conscience to some, but everyone denied such a gift. The innkeeper even went so far as to nearly destroy the wine. Trading that evening did not work out, but he slept peacefully, not like before.
The wife guessed what was the matter, why there was no trade, and decided to save herself from an unnecessary thing. Early in the morning she stole a rag with the contents from the missus and ran to the market, where she threw an annoying conscience in a coat to the quarter warden Lovets, who had a habit of taking bribes. He always saw property in the market commodity. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, he began to realize that someone else's good does not belong to him. Even the merchant peasants began to scoff, because they were used to being robbed. So he returned home empty-handed. Offended wife refused to feed dinner.
Trapper, who took off his coat, began to think again that everything around him belonged, and wanted to return to the market to compensate for the lost time. As soon as the coat, in the pocket of which the conscience lay, was put on, the feeling of shame woke up again. Even my wallet began to crush. I had to give money to passers-by. Gathered the poor and took them to his home to feed. Once again without a coat, he ordered to drive away all the invitees. The hostess, who began to search her husband's clothes in search of a penny lying around, found a conscience. A quick-witted woman sent it to the banker Brzhotsky. Samuil Davydovich knew all the ways to get money. Even his youngest children counted who owed whom and how much for the sweets they ate. In such a family, conscientiousness is certainly not required. The financier quickly figured out how to get rid of it. He sent the philanthropic contribution once promised to the general, adding his conscience to the envelope with the hundredth note as a free application.
And so she passed from one hand to another, never lingering anywhere for a long time. Nobody needed her. She had to beg the last one she came to, to find a small child and give her to this baby. Thus it was done. This child is now growing up with his conscience. When the child becomes an adult, the conscience will also grow. Then all injustice, deceit, treachery, arbitrariness will disappear, because conscience will no longer be shy and will command everyone by itself.
“Conscience suddenly disappeared. almost instantly! Just yesterday, this annoying hanger-on just flickered before my eyes, it seemed to my excited imagination, and suddenly. nothing!" It became easier for people to live without conscience, they "hurried to take advantage of the fruits of this freedom." Looting and robbery began, people went berserk. Conscience was lying on the road and "everyone threw it like a worthless rag", wondering "how such a blatant disgrace can lie in a well-organized city and in the busiest place."
One "unfortunate bastard"
Picked up the conscience "in the hope of getting a shkalik for it." And immediately fear and remorse took possession of him: “out of the darkness of the shameful past” all the shameful deeds committed by him surfaced. However, this unfortunate and miserable person is not alone to blame for his sins, there is a monstrous force that "twisted and twirled them, as it twists and twirls a whirlwind in the steppe with an insignificant blade of grass." Consciousness has woken up in a person, but "shows only one way out - the way out of fruitless self-accusation." The drunkard decided to get rid of his conscience and went to the drinking house, where a certain Prokhorych traded. It was to this merchant that the unfortunate conscience "in a rag" slipped.
Prokhorych immediately began to repent. It is a sin to solder the people! He even began to make speeches to the regulars of the tavern about the dangers of vodka. To some, the tavern keeper offered to take his conscience from him, but everyone shunned such a gift. Prokhorych was even going to pour the wine into the ditch. There was no trade that day, no pennies were made, but the tavern keeper slept peacefully, not like in the old days. The wife realized that it was impossible to trade with a conscience. At dawn, she stole her husband's conscience and rushed into the street with it. It was a market day, there were a lot of people on the streets. Arina Ivanovna shoved her irritating conscience into the pocket of a district warden named Lovets.
The quarter warden is always given bribes. In the market, he is accustomed to looking at someone else's good as his own. And suddenly - he sees the good, but understands that it is someone else's. The men began to laugh at him - they are used to being robbed! They began to call the Catcher Fofan Fofanych. So he left the market "without bags." The wife was offended, did not give dinner. As soon as the Trapper took off his coat, he immediately changed - "it again seemed that there was nothing alien in the world, but everything was his." Decided to go to the market, repair the damage. As soon as I put on my overcoat (and my conscience is in my pocket!), I again felt ashamed to rob people. By the time he reached the bazaar, even his own wallet had already become a burden to him. He began to distribute money, distributed everything. Moreover, along the way, he took with him “the poor, apparently, invisibly” in order to feed them. He came home, ordered his wife to dress "strange people", he took off his coat. And he was surprised: what kind of people are wandering around the yard? Cut them out, right? The beggars were kicked out in the neck, and the wife began to fumble through her husband's pockets - was there a penny lying around? And I found a conscience in my pocket! The savvy woman decided that the financier Samuil Davydovich Brzhotsky "would beat a small business, but endure!". And sent the conscience by mail.
Both Samuil Davydovich himself and his children are well versed in ways to extract money from anything. Even the younger sons figure out "how much the last one owes the first one for the lollipops taken on loan." There is no conscience in such a family at all. Brzhotsky found a way out. He had long promised a certain general to make a charitable donation. A conscience in an envelope was also attached to the hundredth banknote (actually a donation). All this was handed over to the general.
So they passed the conscience from hand to hand. Nobody needed her. And then the conscience asked the last one in whose hands it was: “Find me a little Russian child, dissolve his pure heart in front of me and bury me in it!”
“A little child grows, and conscience grows with it. And the little child will be a great man, and there will be a great conscience in him. And then all unrighteousness, deceit and violence will disappear, because the conscience will not be timid and will want to manage everything itself.
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The plot composition of the fairy tale is built in the description of a society, from the life of whose members the pangs of conscience suddenly disappear, while the heroes of the work do not at all regret the loss of a worthless rag and an annoying accustomer in the form of conscience, since they began to feel freer, feeling permissiveness that gives rise to aggressive anger and social chaos.
The writer depicts a picture of the fall of a person, in which humanity, creation disappear, preventing a destructive collapse in the souls of people, substituting each other, showing flattery, groveling, lying, slandering their neighbor by slander and slander.
The narration of the fairy tale is permeated with the author's attitude to the problem of a conscientious person, since in this manifestation the writer sees the living and the present, which entails people feeling blessed feelings in the form of satisfaction with their own actions and, accordingly, peace of mind.
One of the heroes of the tale, depicted by the author as a bitter drunkard, an alcoholic, is the first to acquire a conscience and, freed from a drunken frenzy, realizes his useless, worthless existence, recalling in horror his own shameful deeds. Another of the heroes who felt pangs of conscience is the liquor dealer Prokhor, who, having experienced this feeling for the first time, feels his own relief, having performed the act of a responsible person for the first time.
The writer conveys his own view of the sense of conscience, which, in his opinion, is combined with the moral principles of public self-consciousness, capable of understanding the positive and negative side of life, emphasizing the true essence of each person. This ability develops from childhood, because the soul of a baby is pure and immaculate, absorbing all the good things that are put into a small selfless heart.
The finale of the work clearly demonstrates the need from infancy to educate children in positive human qualities, consisting in kindness, love, compassion, and mercy. Conscience, as the main character of the fairy tale, wants to find itself in the soul of a baby who is able to take it into his heart and dissolve in it, feeling conscience in the form of a guardian of true humanity.
Option 2
Before you is a fairy tale called "The Conscience Lost", which was written by the famous writer Saltykov-Shchedrin. Here he talks not only about his own life, but also about the lives of other people.
Many people live for many years, but still do not know what conscience is. All the characters in this work belong to the same category of people. You can't see peasants or working people here.
Each of these heroes has no conscience for a long time and live very well without it. Now she does not interfere with their lives, and life without her is much better and easier. In this work, conscience is shown as a worthless rag that no one wants to pick up and smear hands on it.
The writer tries to convey to the audience that conscience is a completely different feeling. With the help of conscience, a person can become much better than before. He will understand what is good and what is bad. And try not to do bad things to another person. Even if you are a cynical person, you can also find positive qualities in him. The drunkard tries to persuade everyone who takes alcohol to give it up forever. The thief no longer wants to steal, but tries to return all the loot to its place.
Every person who has found a conscience and picked it up tries to pass it on almost immediately so that it does not linger with them, because they do not need it at all. No one wants to live conscientiously, because on the contrary, it is at their loss. It is best to steal, deceive and do evil to people.
But in order for people to have a conscience and settle down deep in their souls, you need to slightly change the world in which we now live. In addition, it is necessary to change the laws that say otherwise. And you need to educate people from childhood, so that they have it.
And all this should be done by young guys who live in the country. And you need to start first of all with yourself, and then ask something from other people. They must be literate, kind, sympathetic, merciful and fair people. Every young person should have a conscience that sits in the heart and occupies the main and honorable place there. Only after this, our life will begin to change a little and after a while it will change forever.
Idea, theme, meaning
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To understand the sense of your life, you need to grow up in yourself. Life is a theater, life is a city, life is a battlefield, - a lot of writers themselves have characterized their and not only people's lives with such metaphors.
Lost conscience. As of old, people crowded the streets and theaters; in the old way they either overtook or overtook each other; they fussed about in the old fashioned way and caught pieces on the fly, and no one guessed that something was suddenly missing and that some kind of pipe stopped playing in the common vital orchestra. Many began to even feel more cheerful and free. The course of a person has become easier: it has become more dexterous to substitute a foot for a neighbor, it has become more convenient to flatter, grovel, deceive, slander and slander. All pain suddenly vanished like a hand; people did not walk, but seemed to be rushing; nothing upset them, nothing made them think; both the present and the future - everything seemed to be given into their hands - to them, the lucky ones, who did not notice the loss of conscience.
Conscience suddenly disappeared ... almost instantly! Just yesterday, this annoying hanger-on just flashed before my eyes, seemed like an excited imagination, and suddenly ... nothing! The annoying phantoms disappeared, and with them the moral turmoil that the accuser-conscience brought with it subsided. It remained only to look at God's world and rejoice: the wise of the world realized that they had finally freed themselves from the last yoke that hindered their movement, and, of course, hastened to take advantage of the fruits of this freedom. People freaked out; looting and robbery began, ruin began in general.
Meanwhile, the poor conscience lay on the road, tormented, spat upon, trampled underfoot by pedestrians. Everyone threw it, like a worthless rag, away from himself; everyone wondered how in a well-organized city, and in the busiest place, such a blatant disgrace could be lying around. And God knows how long the poor exile would have lain in this way if some unfortunate drunkard had not lifted her up, gazing from drunken eyes even at a worthless rag, in the hope of getting a shkalik for her.
And suddenly he felt that he was pierced like an electric jet of some kind. With cloudy eyes he began to look around and quite clearly felt that his head was freed from the wine vapors and that that bitter consciousness of reality was gradually returning to him, to get rid of which the best forces of his being had been spent. At first, he felt only fear, that dull fear that plunges a person into anxiety at the mere premonition of some impending danger; then the memory was alarmed, the imagination spoke. Memory mercilessly extracted from the darkness of the shameful past all the details of violence, betrayal, heart sluggishness and untruths; the imagination clothed these details in living forms. Then, by itself, the court woke up ...
To a miserable drunkard, his whole past seems like a continuous ugly crime. He does not analyze, does not ask, does not think: he is so overwhelmed by the picture of his moral decline that has risen before him that the process of self-condemnation to which he voluntarily exposes himself beats him incomparably more painfully and more severely than the most severe human court. He does not even want to take into account that most of the past for which he so curses himself does not belong at all to him, a poor and pathetic drunkard, but to some secret, monstrous force that twisted and twirled them, as it twists and twirls in the steppe a whirlwind of an insignificant blade of grass. What is his past? why did he live it this way and not otherwise? what is he himself? - all these are questions to which he can only answer with surprise and complete unconsciousness. The yoke built his life; under the yoke he was born, under the yoke he will descend into the grave. Here, perhaps, consciousness has now appeared - but what does it need it for? did it then come to ruthlessly raise questions and answer them with silence? then, so that the ruined life would again rush into the ruined temple, which can no longer withstand its influx?
Alas! the awakened consciousness brings him neither reconciliation nor hope, and the awakened conscience shows only one way out - the way out of fruitless self-accusation. And before there was darkness all around, and now the same darkness, only inhabited by tormenting ghosts; and before heavy chains rang on his hands, and now the same chains, only their weight has doubled, because he realized that they were chains. Useless drunken tears flow like a river; kind people stop in front of him and claim that wine is crying in him.
Fathers! I can't... it's unbearable! - shouts the miserable bastard, and the crowd laughs and sneers at him. She does not understand that the pro-drunk has never been so free from wine vapours, as at this moment, that he has simply made an unfortunate discovery that tears his poor heart apart. If she herself had stumbled upon this discovery, she would, of course, have understood that there is sorrow in the world, the most severe of all sorrows - this is the sorrow of a suddenly acquired conscience. She would have understood that she, too, is just as much a yoke-headed and disfigured crowd as the yoke-headed and morally distorted bastard who calls before her.
"No, you have to sell it somehow! Otherwise, you'll be lost with it like a dog!" - the miserable drunkard thinks and already wants to throw his find on the road, but he is stopped by a nearby walker.
You, brother, it seems that you have taken it into your head to throw up anonymous lampoons! - he says to him, shaking his finger, - with me, brother, and in the unit for this to sit for a long time!
The bastard quickly hides the find in his pocket and leaves with it. Looking around and stealthily, he approaches the drinking house in which his old acquaintance, Prokhorych, trades. At first he peeps slowly in the window and, seeing that there is no one in the tavern, and Prokhorych is dozing alone at the bar, in the blink of an eye he opens the door, runs in, and before Prokhorych has time to come to his senses, the terrible find is already in his hand. .
For some time Prokhorych stood with bulging eyes; then suddenly he was all sweaty. For some reason it seemed to him that he was trading without a patent; but, looking around carefully, he was convinced that all the patents, both blue and green and yellow, were there. He glanced at the rag, which found itself in his hands, and it seemed familiar to him.
“Hey!” he remembered, “yes, no way, this is the same rag that I forcibly sold before buying a patent! yes! it is the very one!”
Convinced of this, he immediately for some reason realized that now he had to go bankrupt.
If a person is busy with business, but such a dirty trick will become attached to him, - say, it's gone! there will be no work and there cannot be! he reasoned almost mechanically, and suddenly he began to shake all over and turned pale, as if hitherto unknown fear looked into his eyes.
But where is it bad to solder the poor people! - whispered awakened conscience.
Wife! Arina Ivanovna! he exclaimed, beside himself with fright.
Arina Ivanovna came running, but as soon as she saw what Prokhorych had made, she cried out in a voice not her own: "Sentry! Fathers! They are robbing!"
"And why should I, through this scoundrel, lose everything in one minute?" - thought Prokhorych, obviously alluding to the drunkard who foisted his find on him. Meanwhile, large drops of sweat appeared on his forehead.
Meanwhile, the tavern was gradually filling up with people, but Prokhorych, instead of regaling the visitors with his usual courtesy, to the complete amazement of the latter, not only refused to pour them
wine, but he even very touchingly argued that the source of all misfortune for a poor person lies in wine.
If you would drink one glass - it's so! it's even useful! - he said through tears, - otherwise you strive, how would you gobble up a whole bucket! So what? now they will drag you to the unit for this very thing; in the unit they will fill you up under your shirt, and you will come out from there, as if you had received some kind of award! And all your reward was a hundred lozan! So you think, dear man, is it worth trying because of this, and even to me, a fool, to pay your labor money!
What are you, Prokhorych, crazy crazy! - the astonished visitors told him.
Go crazy, brother, if such an opportunity happens to you! - answered Prokhorych, - you better look at what patent I have straightened out for myself today!
Prokhorych showed the conscience thrust into his hands and suggested whether any of the visitors would like to take advantage of it. But the visitors, having learned what the thing was, not only did not express their consent, but even timidly avoided and moved away.
That's the patent! Prokhorych added, not without malice.
What are you going to do now? - asked his visitors.
Now I believe this: there is only one thing left for me - to die! Therefore, I cannot deceive now; The poor people also do not agree to drink vodka; What am I supposed to do now but die?
Reason! visitors laughed at him.
I even think so now, - continued Prokhorych, - kill all this vessel, which is here, and pour the wine into the ditch! Therefore, if someone has this virtue in himself, then even the very smell of fusel can turn his insides!
Just dare me! Arina Ivanovna finally intervened, whose heart, apparently, had not been touched by the grace that suddenly dawned on Prokhorych, “what virtue has been found!
But Prokhorych was already hard to get through. He burst into bitter tears and kept talking, talking everything.
Because, - he said, - if this misfortune happened to someone, he should be so unhappy. And he does not dare to conclude any opinion about himself that he is a merchant or a merchant. Because it will be one of his vain worries. And he should talk about himself like this: "I am an unfortunate person in this world - and nothing more."
In this way a whole day passed in philosophical exercises, and although Arina Ivanovna resolutely opposed her husband's intention to break the dishes and pour the wine into the ditch, they did not sell a drop that day. By evening, Prokhorych even became cheerful and, lying down for the night, said to the weeping Arina Ivanovna:
Well, my dear and dearest wife! although we haven’t gained anything today, how easy it is for a person who has a conscience in his eyes!
And indeed, as soon as he lay down, he fell asleep right now. And he didn’t toss about in his sleep, and didn’t even snore, as happened to him in the old days, when he made money, but he had no conscience.
But Arina Ivanovna thought about it a little differently. She understood very well that in the tavern business conscience is by no means such a pleasant acquisition from which profit could be expected, and therefore she decided to get rid of the uninvited guest at all costs. Reluctantly, she waited out the night, but as soon as light shone through the dusty windows of the tavern, she stole the conscience from her sleeping husband and rushed headlong into the street with it.
As luck would have it, it was market day; peasants with wagons were already streaming from the neighboring villages, and the quarterly overseer, Lovets, personally went to the bazaar to keep order. As soon as Arina Ivanovna caught sight of the hurrying Catcher, a happy thought already flashed in her head. She ran after him with all her might, and barely had time to catch up when, with amazing dexterity, she slowly slipped her conscience into the pocket of his overcoat.
The catcher was a small fellow, not exactly shameless, but he did not like to embarrass himself and launched his paw quite freely. His appearance was not that impudent, but impetuous. The hands were not exactly too mischievous, but willingly hooked on everything that came across along the way. In a word, he was a decent covetous man.
And suddenly this same person began to jar.
He came to the market square, and it seems to him that everything that is not instructed there, both on the wagons, and on the lockers, and in the shops - all this is not his, but someone else's. This had never happened to him before. He rubbed his shameless eyes and thought: "Am I crazy, is it all in my dream?" He approached one cart, he wants to launch his paw, but the paw does not rise; went up to another cart, wants to shake the peasant by the beard - oh, horror! hands do not stretch!
Scared.
“What has happened to me today?” Trapper thinks.
However, I hoped that maybe it would pass. He began to walk around the market; looks, all living creatures lie, all sorts of materials are spread out, and all this seems to say: "Here is the elbow, but you won’t bite!"
And the peasants, meanwhile, dared: seeing that the man had gone crazy, clapping his eyes at his own good, they began to joke, they began to call the Catcher Fofan Fofanych.
No, it's some kind of illness with me! - decided the Trapper, and still without bags, with empty hands, and went home.
He returns home, and the Huntsman-wife is already waiting, thinking: "How many bags will my husband bring me today?" And suddenly - none. So her heart boiled in her, so she attacked the Trapper.
Where did you put the bags? she asks him.
Before the face of my conscience, I testify ... - began the Trapper.
Where are your bags, they ask you?
Before the face of my conscience, I testify ... - Trapper repeated again.
Well, then dine with your conscience until the future market, but I don’t have dinner for you! - decided the Trapper.
Trapper lowered his head, because he knew that Lovchikhino's word was firm. He took off his coat - and suddenly, as if completely transformed! Since his conscience remained, together with his overcoat, on the wall, he again felt both light and free, and again it began to seem that there was nothing alien in the world, but everything was his. And he felt again in himself the ability to swallow and rake.
Well, now you won't get away from me, my friends! - said the Trapper, rubbing his hands, and hastily began to put on his overcoat in order to fly to the bazaar in full sail.
But, oh miracle! he had scarcely put on his overcoat when he began to struggle again. Just as if two people had become in him: one, without a coat, - shameless, raked and pawed; the other, in a coat, is shy and timid. However, although he sees that he did not have time to go out of the gate, he has already subsided, but he did not refuse his intention to go to the market. "Perhaps either, he thinks, I will overcome."
But the closer he came to the bazaar, the stronger his heart beat, the more relentlessly the need to reconcile with all this average and small people, who, because of a penny, struggles all day in rain and slush, affected him. It’s not up to him to stare at other people’s bags; his own purse, which was in his pocket, became a burden to him, as if he suddenly learned from reliable sources that this purse contained not his, but someone else's money.
Here's fifteen kopecks for you, my friend! - he says, going up to some peasant and giving him a coin.
What is this for, Fofan Fofanych?
And for my previous offense, friend! forgive me, for Christ's sake!
Well, God forgive you!
In this way he went around the whole bazaar and distributed all the money that he had. However, having done this, although he felt that his heart had become light, he became deeply thoughtful.
No, it’s some kind of illness that happened to me today, ”he said to himself again,“ I’d better go home, and by the way, I’ll grab more beggars along the way, and I’ll feed them than God sent!
No sooner said than done: he recruited the beggars visibly and invisibly and brought them to his yard. The hunter only spread her hands, waiting for what he will do even further leprosy. He slowly walked past her and affectionately said:
Here, Fedosyushka, are those very strange people whom you asked me to bring: feed them, for Christ's sake!
But as soon as he hung up his overcoat on a stud, he felt light and free again. He looks out the window and sees that in his yard the poor brethren from all over the city are shot down! He sees and does not understand: "Why? Is it really necessary to flog all this lot?"
What kind of people? - he ran out into the yard in a frenzy.
Like what kind of people? These are all the strange people you told me to feed! snarled the Huntsman.
Drive them! to the neck! like this! he shouted in a voice that was not his own, and, like a madman, he rushed back into the house.
For a long time he walked up and down the rooms and kept thinking what had become of him? He was always a serviceable person, but in relation to the performance of his official duty, he was simply a lion, and suddenly he became a rag!
Fedosya Petrovna! mother! yes, bind me, for Christ's sake! I feel that today I will do such things that after a whole year it will be impossible to correct! he pleaded.
The Seeker also sees that the Seeker had a hard time with her. She undressed him, put him to bed and gave him a hot drink. Only a quarter of an hour later did she go into the hall and think: "Let me see in his overcoat; maybe there will be some pennies in his pockets?" She searched one pocket - found an empty purse; rummaged through another pocket - found some dirty, oily piece of paper. As she unfolded this piece of paper - she gasped!
So now he's up to some tricks! she said to herself, “I got my conscience in my pocket!”
And she began to invent, to whom she could sell this conscience, so that she would not burden that person to the end, but only lead a little into anxiety. And she came up with the idea that the best place for her would be with a retired farmer, and now a financier and railway inventor, a Jew Shmul Davydovich Brzhotsky.
At least this one has a thick neck! - she decided, - maybe a small thing will be beaten, but it will endure!
Deciding in this way, she carefully slipped her conscience into a stamped envelope, inscribed Brzotsky's address on it, and dropped it into the mailbox.
Well, now you can, my friend, boldly go to the market, - she said to her husband, returning home.
Samuil Davydych Brzhotsky sat at the dinner table, surrounded by his entire family. Next to him was his ten-year-old son, Ruvim Samuilovich, who performed banking operations in his mind.
And a hundred, papas, if I give this golden one that you gave me at interest at twenty percent a month, how much money will I have by the end of the year? he asked.
And what percentage: simple or compound? asked Samuil Davydych in his turn.
Of course, papas, difficult!
If it is compound and with truncation of fractions, then there will be forty-five rubles and seventy-nine kopecks!
So I, papas, will give!
Give it back, my friend, you just need to take a trustworthy pledge!
On the other side sat Iosel Samuilovich, a boy of about seven, and also solved a problem in his mind: a flock of geese was flying; Next came Solomon Samuilovich, followed by Davyd Samuilovich, and they figured out how much the latter owed the former in interest on the lollipops he borrowed. At the other end of the table sat the beautiful wife of Samuil Davydych, Liya Solomonovna, holding in her arms tiny Rifochka, who instinctively reached for the gold bracelets that adorned her mother's hands.
In a word, Samuil Davydych was happy. He was about to eat some unusual sauce, decorated almost with ostrich feathers and Brussels lace, when the footman handed him a letter on a silver tray.
As soon as Samuil Davydych took the envelope in his hands, he rushed about in all directions, like an eel on coals.
And a hundred ze it is! and zatsem me this weight! he yelled, shaking all over.
Although none of those present understood anything in these cries, it became clear to everyone that the continuation of the dinner was impossible.
I will not describe here the torments that Samuil Davydych endured on this memorable day for him; I will only say one thing: this man, seemingly frail and weak, heroically endured the most cruel tortures, but did not even agree to return a five-kopeck piece.
This is a hundred ze! this is nothing! only you hold me tighter, Leah! - he persuaded his wife during the most desperate paroxysms, - and if I ask for the casket - no, no! let the bushes die!
But since there is no such difficult situation in the world from which a way out would be impossible, it was found in the present case as well. Samuil Davydych remembered that he had long promised to make some kind of donation to some charitable institution, which was in charge of a general he knew, but for some reason this matter was being put off from day to day. And now the case directly pointed to the means to carry out this long-standing intention.
Conceived - done. Samuil Davydych carefully opened the envelope sent by mail, took the parcel out of it with tweezers, shifted it into another envelope, hid another one-hundred banknote there, sealed it and went to the general he knew.
Hello, Vasya Excellency, make a donation! - he said, placing a package on the table in front of the overjoyed general.
What, sir! it is commendable! - answered the general, - I always knew that you ... as a Jew ... and according to the law of David ... Dance - play ... so, it seems?
The general was confused, because he did not know for sure whether David issued laws, or who else.
Exactly so, sir; only what kind of Jews we are, Vasya Excellency! - Samuil Davydych hurried, already completely relieved, - only in appearance we are Jews, but in our hearts we are completely, completely Russian!
Thank you - said the general, - I regret one thing ... as a Christian ... why would you, for example? ., huh? ..
Vasya Excellency ... we are only in appearance ... believe me, only in appearance!
Vasya Excellency!
Well well well! Christ is with you!
Samuil Davydych flew home as if on wings. On the same evening, he completely forgot about the suffering he endured and invented such an outlandish operation to the general stigma that the next day everyone gasped as they found out.
And for a long time the poor, exiled conscience roamed the wide world in this way, and it stayed with many thousands of people. But no one wanted to shelter her, and everyone, on the contrary, only thought about how to get rid of her and, at least by deceit, and get away with it.
Finally she got bored with herself, that there was nowhere for her, poor thing, to lay her head, and that she must live her life in strangers, but without shelter. So she prayed to her last landlord, some tradeswoman, who traded dust in the passageway and could not get hold of that trade.
Why are you bullying me! - the poor conscience complained, - why are you pushing me around like some kind of abductor?
What am I going to do with you, madam conscience, if no one needs you? - asked, in turn, the tradeswoman.
But what, - answered conscience, - find me a little Russian child, dissolve his pure heart before me and bury me in it! maybe he will shelter me, an innocent baby, and nurture me, maybe he will produce me to the best of his age, and then he will go out into the people with me - he does not disdain.
At her word, it all happened. The tradesman found a little Russian child, dissolved his pure heart and buried his conscience in him.
A small child grows, and with it, a conscience grows in him. And the little child will be a great man, and there will be a great conscience in him. And then all unrighteousness, deceit and violence will disappear, because the conscience will not be timid and will want to manage everything itself.
Purpose: understanding the concept of conscience as
responsibility for one's actions based on
literary text analysis
Equipment: demonstration material
(definitions of the concept of “conscience” from explanatory
dictionaries)
During the classes
Organizing time. Introduction to the text, topic
lesson.
M.E. Saltykov-Shchedrin often offers us
fabulous situations: this is a desert island, on
which miraculously turned out to be two generals,
and a wild landowner, from whose estate miraculous
all the men disappeared in this way, and in this tale before
we are in a very unusual situation.
lost conscience. And what is conscience like you
think?
(Student answers)
In your own words, you made clear definitions,
that are in dictionaries (refer to
demo material):
Ozhegov S.I., Shvedova N.Yu. Dictionary
Russian language: Conscience is a feeling
moral responsibility for one's behavior
in front of the people around you.
Dictionary of the Russian language / Edited by A.P.
Evgenieva: Conscience is a feeling and consciousness
moral responsibility for one's behavior
in front of yourself and those around you.
Which definition seems more complete to you?
Why?
(Student answers)
So the conscience is gone, gone, man and
consciences were divided - what became of them?
A man without a conscience - how have people changed? "Many
began to feel more free”.
How do you understand it? The human is gone
people have become like animals.
And conscience without a person? What has she become? Annoying
accuser, accuser, yoke, blatant
ugliness.
People freed themselves from conscience, and it became
rags, rags. Nobody needs her
no one calls, on the contrary, they throw her,
throw each other.
Commented text reading.
So the journey of conscience begins. Although I
I will call another word - ordeal. Which one
stronger? Ordeals, because It is not simple
journey is disaster, suffering, wandering.
Who will have a conscience? At the drunkard; at
Prokhorych, the owner of the tavern; at the catcher, quarterly
overseer; Brozhtssky, a wealthy banker.
reading a fragment with the words “And God knows how long
the poor exile would have lain thus,
if some unfortunate drunkard hadn't picked it up,
coveted from drunken eyes even to a worthless
rag, in the hope of getting a scale for it.” before
words ": before Prokhorych has time
to come to his senses, a terrible find is already in his
hand."
What is the vice of a drunkard? Is this a vice only of the 19th century?
What does conscience do to a drunkard? “permeated
electric jet”, “the head is freed from
wine vapors”, “consciousness returns
reality, fear, memory, shame”
Is this the most terrible vice? No, because
the drunkard is responsible only for himself and destroys only
myself.
Reading by roles of the fragment from the words “Some
for a while Prokhorych stood with bulging eyes;
then all of a sudden he was sweating.” to words “She is in
all the spirit ran after him, and barely had time
to catch up, as now, with the amazing
dexterity, slowly shoved her conscience into her pocket
his coat."
What discovery does Prokhorych make for himself? "Easily
to the person who has a conscience in his eyes.”
Why does a drunkard feel fear, and Prokhorych -
relief when their conscience falls into their hands? Vice
Prokhorych is harder: he destroys not only himself.
Reading a fragment from the words “The catcher was small, not that
to be completely shameless, but did not like to embarrass himself
and launched the paw quite freely.” to the words "-
Well, now you can, my friend, boldly go to the market, -
she said to her husband when she returned home.
What letter is the name of the hero written with capital or
with little one? What is it - a name or a nickname? Nickname,
reflecting the very essence of man.
What is he? "Shameless", "impetuous",
"decent liar".
It's without conscience. And with a conscience in your pocket? “Came
he goes to the market square, and it seems to him that everything
it was not instructed there, and on carts, and on lockers, and in
shops - all this is not his, but someone else's. Never before
it didn’t happen to him.”
What is his vice? bribery,
bribery, a sin even more serious.
Reading a fragment from the words “Samuil Davydych
Brzotsky sat at the dinner table, surrounded
with all my family.” to the words “On the same evening
he had completely forgotten about the
suffering and invented such an outlandish operation
to the general sting that the next day everything
they gasped when they found out.”
Who is Brzhotsky by the nature of his occupation? Banker.
Look: a prosperous, wealthy family,
smart man, wife, children - what is his vice? He
prudent, even conscience sells on the sly.
Reading a fragment with the words “And for a long time
the poor, exiled conscience staggered
white light, and she visited many thousands
of people." to end
Let's go back to the definitions we've been working with
at the beginning of the lesson. "Worthless rag" was
conscience for whom: for Saltykov-Shchedrin? For his
heroes?
(Student answers)
Read another definition from "Explanatory
Dictionary of the Living Great Russian Language” by V.I. Dalia:
“Conscience is the inner consciousness of good and evil,
the secret of the soul, the feeling that prompts the truth and
good."
Do you agree with this definition?
So where is the refuge of conscience? For the first time we
we hear her voice, her request. What is she asking for? “ Find
you tell me a little Russian child, dissolve you in front of
me his pure heart and bury me in it!”
Why is it in the heart of a child?
(Student answers)
Creative work on associations.
Try to materialize the image of conscience,
think of it as a specific
object or phenomenon.
(Student answers)
Lesson results.
So, Saltykov-Shchedrin lays on the conscience
hope, for she is the keeper for him
human in man, mistress of the future
state of the world.
