INSTRUCTIONS AND PROPHECIES OF THE Blessed MOTHER ALIPIA GOLOSEEVSKY, Kyiv...
The book "The Last Bow" by the Soviet writer Viktor Astafyev is a story in stories, which is of a folk character, consisting of compassion, conscience, duty and beauty. There are many characters involved in the story, but the main ones are the grandmother and her grandson. The orphan boy Vitya lives with his grandmother Katerina Petrovna, who has become a generalized image of all Russian grandmothers, the embodiment of love, kindness, care, morality and warmth. And at the same time, she was a strict and sometimes even harsh woman. Sometimes she could make fun of her grandson, but nevertheless she loved him very much and cared for him infinitely.
Values instilled in childhood
True friendship is the most precious and very rare reward for a person, Astafiev believed. "A Photo Without Me" is a story in which the writer wanted to show how the hero treats his friends. For the author, this was important. After all, friendship is sometimes stronger than family ties.
The story "A photograph where I am not" is presented as a separate part in the story "The Last Bow". In it, the author depicted all the exciting moments of his childhood. To analyze the story, you need to read the summary.
"A photograph in which I am not": the plot
The plot tells that one day a photographer came to the village from the city to take a picture of the students of the school. The children immediately began to think about how and where to stand. They decided that diligent good students should sit in the front, those who study satisfactorily in the middle, and bad students should be placed at the back.
Vitka and his bosom friend Sanka, in theory, were supposed to stand behind, since they did not differ in diligent study, and even more so in behavior. To prove to everyone that they are completely crazy people, the boys went to ride in the snow from such a cliff, from which no normal person would ever go. As a result, having rolled in the snow, they dispersed to their homes. Retribution for such ardor was not long in coming, and in the evening Vitka's legs ached.
Grandmother independently diagnosed him with rheumatoid arthritis. The boy could not stand up, howled and groaned in pain. Katerina Petrovna was very angry with her grandson and lamented: “I told you, don’t be study!” However, she immediately went for medicine.
Although the grandmother grumbles at her grandson and mimics him, she treats him with great tenderness and strong affection. Giving him a slap, she begins to rub her grandson's feet with ammonia for a long time. Katerina Petrovna deeply sympathizes with him, since he is an orphan: by a fatal accident, his mother drowned in the river, and his father had already formed another family in the city.
Friendship
This is how the short story began. “The photograph in which I am not present” as a literary work tells that, due to his illness, the boy Vitya still misses one of major events- Photographing with the class. He is very sorry about this, in the meantime, the grandmother comforts her grandson and says that as soon as he recovers, they themselves will go to the city to the “best” photographer Volkov, and he will take any pictures, even for a portrait, even for a patchport, even on the "eroplane", even on a horse, at least on something.
And here to myself important point fit the plot. Summary(“The photo in which I am not present”) describes that Vitka’s friend Sanka comes for a friend in the morning and sees that he cannot stand on his feet, and then he immediately decides not to go to be photographed either. Sanka acts like a true friend who does not want to upset Vitka even more and therefore also misses this event. Even despite the fact that Sanka was getting ready and put on a new padded jacket, he begins to reassure Vitka that this is not the last time a photographer has come to them, and next time they will be in the frame.
"The Photo I'm Not In": Review and Analysis
Although the friendship of village boys is considered here at a very childish level, this episode will affect the development of the hero's personality. In the future, it will be very important: not only his grandmother's upbringing and care influenced his attitude to the world around him, but also respectable relations with friends.
The work “A Photograph Where I’m Not in” reveals the image of true Russian grandmothers, how they lived in their villages, ran their household, decorated and insulated their windows with moss, because it “sucks dampness”, they put coal so that the glass would not freeze, and the rowan was hung from intoxication. By the window they judged which mistress lives in the house.
Teacher
Vitya did not go to school for more than a week. One day a teacher came to them and brought a photograph. Katerina Petrovna greeted him with great cordiality and hospitality, talked sweetly, treated him to tea and put on the table treats that can only be in the village: tin can), urban gingerbread and drying.
The teacher in their village was the most respected person, because he taught children to read and write, and also helped the locals write the necessary letters and documents. For such benevolence, people helped him with firewood, milk, to look after the child, and grandmother Ekaterina Petrovna spoke to his baby's navel.
Conclusion
Here on this, perhaps, we can end the summary. "The Photo I'm Not In" is a short story that helps the reader to understand the main characters' images as well as possible, to see them. moral souls, priorities and life values.
In addition, we understand how important photography is for these people, because it is a kind of chronicle and wall history of the Russian people. And no matter how funny, sometimes ridiculous and pompous these old photographs may be, there is still no desire to laugh at them, you just want to smile, because you understand that many of those who posed died in the war, defending their land.
Astafiev writes that the house in which his school was located and against which the photograph was taken was built by his great-grandfather, dispossessed by the Bolsheviks. The families of the dispossessed at that time were driven out directly into the street, but their relatives did not let them die, and they settled in other people's houses.
Astafiev tried to write about all this in his work. “The photo where I am not” is a small episode from the life of the writer and all the simple, but truly great people.
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Title of the work: Photo without me
Viktor Petrovich Astafiev
Year of writing: 1968
Genre: story
Main characters: Vitya- narrator, Sanka- his best friend, grandmother Viti, teacher
Plot
A real photographer comes to a small village to take a big photo of all the children - students of the local school. it greatest event in the lives of the villagers. Vitya and Sanya in the evening as a sign of protest, since they are not very diligent students and cannot qualify for best places in front of the camera, they went for a ride on the river and there Vitya seriously got cold feet.All night he screamed in pain, and all night his grandmother looked after him and treated his legs with all the means available to her. The next morning, the pain did not go away, and the old woman carried (he could not walk) her grandson to the bathhouse, where she again soared and rubbed his legs. But the boy could not go to school to take a picture. Friend Sanka, having learned about this, also decided not to go to be photographed in order to share his misfortune with a friend. A week later, Vitya got up and was able to walk, but that photograph, in which he was not with the whole class, was forever remembered by the boy.
Conclusion (my opinion)
This story is about true love and care, and about friendship, and about the life of the peasants and their understanding of the place of people in this world. The photo that the teacher brought to the storyteller is a real chronicle of the village, it can be used to tell who works where, who went to war and did not return, who went where - it helps not to forget the past, but to treat it with respect.“Deaf in winter, in quiet, sleepy times, our school was stirred up by an unheard-of important event.”
A photographer came from the city on a cart!
He came to take pictures of the students!
Where to put him for the night? In the teacher's family Small child who is sick and screams all the time.
In the second half of the house where the teacher lives, there was an office. The phone was ringing all the time and people were shouting loudly into the phone.
In the "visiting house" - the coachmen will get drunk and "let the lice go".
The photographer was attached for the night at the foreman of the alloy office, Ilya Ivanovich Chekhov. There he can be treated with smart conversation, and city vodka, and a book from the closet.
Schoolchildren were preparing for the shooting, discussing what to wear, how to comb their hair. It was decided that the best students would be in the forefront, and the hooligans and losers would be in the last.
The narrator and his friend Sanka could not boast of exemplary behavior or grades. Therefore, out of grief that they would be in the last row, where no one could see them, the boys rolled down the hill on a sled. They returned home wet and hot.
The narrator suffered from rheumatism - and at night his legs ached. So much so that he howled - first quietly, like a puppy, then in a full voice.
Grandmother rubbed her legs with ammonia, slapped him, wrapped him in a downy shawl:
“Sleep, little birdie, the Lord is with you and the Andels at the head.
But rubbing didn't help. The boy fought and screamed.
Grandmother ordered grandfather to melt the bathhouse and took the little boy there - he himself could no longer walk.
Sanka, out of solidarity, also said that he would not be photographed. Moreover, he was ashamed, because it was he who lured his friend to ride.
The teacher comes to inquire about the boy's health and brings him a photo of the class. “Respect for our teacher and teacher is universal, silent. Teachers are respected for their courtesy, for the fact that they greet everyone in a row, not making out either the poor or the rich, or the exiles, or self-propelled vehicles. They also respect the fact that at any time of the day or night you can come to the teacher and ask to write the necessary paper ... "
So they thank the teachers: either they will “forget” a shot of sour cream in the teachers' hallway, or they will bring firewood and unload it at the house.
The described events took place during the dispossession.
“The dispossessed and kulakists were thrown out in the dead of autumn, therefore, at the most suitable time for death. And if those times were similar to the present, all families would immediately try on. But kinship and community were then a great force, distant relatives, close relatives, neighbors, godfathers and matchmakers, fearing threats and slander, nevertheless picked up children, first of all babies, then from baths, flocks, barns and attics they gathered mothers, pregnant women, old people, sick people, after them and everyone else, they were taken home.
The evicted women went to their cellars at night for potatoes, pickles, supplies. They prayed to God for the salvation of some and the punishment of others. “But in those years God was busy with something else, more important, and turned away from the Russian village.”
The active liquidators ruined the strong economy of the kulaks. “Katka Boltukhina rushed around the village, changed the thing taken away for a drink, not afraid of anyone, not embarrassed by anything. It happened that she immediately offered what was taken away to the hostess herself. My grandmother, Katerina Petrovna, thumped all the money accumulated for a rainy day, “bought” more than one thing from the Boltukhins and returned it to the families described.
They are also evicted a second time, from those huts where they have just nestled. Baba Platoshikha clings to the joint, tearing her nails into blood. They throw her on the porch, beat her in the face with a boot. Then her relative, the mute Cyril, who was hiding in the forest, jumped up and smashed the head of the commissioner with a rusty cleaver.
The village lived in poverty, but the teacher turned out to be very active: he sent schoolchildren to collect scrap: old samovars, rags, bones. He took all this to the city and brought notebooks and decals. “We tried sweet cocks on sticks, women got hold of needles, threads, buttons.
The teacher again and again went to the city on a village Soviet horse, procured and brought textbooks, one textbook for five. Then there was even relief - one textbook for two. Village families are large, so every house has a textbook. Tables and benches were made by village peasants and they didn’t take a fee for them, they managed with a magarych, which, as I now guess, was put up for them by the teacher on his salary.
And so the school grew.
The teacher in the warm season goes for walks with the students in the forest and the field and tells them a lot, and the children share with him their knowledge of the local nature. One day the company saw a poisonous snake and the teacher, frightened for the children, killed her with a stick.
Now no one remembers the names of the teachers in the village, but the main thing is that the word “Teacher” remains.
Many people think village photos are funny, but they are not.
“Village photography is an original chronicle of our people, its wall history, and it’s not even funny because the photo was taken against the backdrop of a ruined family nest.”
Somewhere in the middle of the winter season, the incredible news came that they would soon come to take pictures from the city. This photographer will not come to everyone, but only to us, students from the school. All adults have a question where to settle such a revered person. Initially, there was an idea to put him in the teacher's house, but they remembered that there are almost always crying children there, and this place is not suitable for such a revered person. Still, they found a place to put him.
We had a foreman, the most intelligent person, and his name was Ivan. It is with him that the photographer will be able to enjoy a wonderful evening after the road, because Ivan knows a lot of jokes and can serve alcohol in time and talk on smart topics
After such incredible news, the schoolchildren were excited and thought about their seats On the photo. In everything, my best friend and I would sit at the end so that we would be less visible, since we were very bad students, fought, skipped and were not interested in learning at all. When we found out, we tried to seize by force good places, but it was impossible even with fights. My friend and I decided that we didn’t care and went for a walk and have fun. Our entertainment was to ride from the high hills of the cliff.
When it got completely dark, my legs started to hurt a lot, I had chills and a temperature. I got sick. My grandmother tried to bring down the temperature, but she said that I was sick in my late mother. Ekaterina looked after me for a long, long night, and I was still able to fall asleep at dawn. In the morning a friend came to me, but I could not reach the photographer, because the disease was still with me. A friend said that he would also stay, and someday we would be photographed together, but then, because this was not the last photographer. Grandmother Ekaterina agreed with him and offered to take us to the amazing photographer she could find after recovery. I was very happy, because I liked the idea of being in a photo with my friend, without all the other students and the hated school.
I did not go to my educational institution for more than seven days. After some time, a teacher came to us and brought a photograph, I was not on it. Grandmother Katya, along with other residents of the village, treated all teachers with great respect. Despite the fact that some of the teachers were exiles, the residents also treated them very respectfully. There was Levontiy among us, he had very bad behavior, but still one of our teachers was able to make him a diligent student. Everyone tried to help the teachers. Those who lived in the village looked after their children during the lessons, someone could put a can of milk, and someone could chop firewood and bring it to the gate. Even at a wedding, it was very honorable to invite a teacher.
Teachers lived in the most ordinary houses, which were built a very, very long time ago. One of these was even cut down by my great-grandfather. There were no tables in our educational institution, and we could not even think about books and notebooks. I was born in this village, but I remember very, very poorly my great-grandfather, as well as my home environment. When I was born, my parents settled in a very bad house with a leaking roof, and after a while my great-grandfather was dispossessed. They simply put people like my grandfather on the street, but relatives did not want them to die, so some settled them in their houses so that they would not die.
The farthest end of our village had great amount non-residential houses. They were taken from the dispossessed. Families who were evicted to the streets on the eve of frosts lived there. People could not live in these houses for a long time, as they could be evicted from this house at any time. There were other houses, they were occupied by new lazy people from the village. In less than a year, these lazy people spoiled the house to such a state that it was unbearable to live in it and they found themselves new house. All the inhabitants of their homes left quietly, there was one case when one boy could intercede for my great-grandfather, he was deaf and mute and his name was Cyril. Kirill was then killed, taken away and handed over to the authorities, and my father's grandfather was sent to Igarka, but he could not live long.
The house in which I was born became a collective farm house, lazy people settled in it. Houses, from which at least something remains, were given under educational establishments. The teachers were able to organize the collection of waste paper and other recyclable materials and earn money, with which they bought everything we needed. Someone from the village was able to build desks and chairs for us. Some time passed and closer to spring we ran out of notebooks, then our great teachers went with us into the forest, showed us animals and trees, grass and rivers. More than a decade has passed, but I remember the faces of my teachers and will always remember them. Despite the fact that I have long forgotten their names and surnames, the most important title “teacher” still remains for me. I was able to save the photo that I am not in, but despite this, I still look at it with joyful memories and never regret that I am not in it. It's probably not like that in the city, but for the village, photography is history.
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- The plot tells that one day a photographer came to the village from the city to take a picture of the students of the school. The children immediately began to think about how and where to stand. They decided that diligent good students should sit in the front, those who study satisfactorily in the middle, and bad students should be placed at the back.
Vitka and his bosom friend Sanka, in theory, were supposed to stand behind, since they did not differ in diligent study, and even more so in behavior. To prove to everyone that they are completely crazy people, the boys went to ride in the snow from such a cliff, from which no normal person would ever go. As a result, having rolled in the snow, they dispersed to their homes. Retribution for such ardor was not long in coming, and in the evening Vitka's legs ached. Grandmother independently diagnosed him with rematism. The boy could not stand up, howled and groaned in pain. Katerina Petrovna was very angry with her grandson and lamented: I told you, don't be shy! However, she immediately went for medicine. Although the grandmother grumbles at her grandson and mimics him, she treats him with great tenderness and strong affection. Giving him a slap, she begins to rub her grandson's feet with ammonia for a long time. Katerina Petrovna deeply sympathizes with him, since he is an orphan: by a fatal accident, his mother drowned in the river, and his father had already formed another family in the city. - The story of Viktor Petrovich Astafiev "The Photograph Where I'm Not" depicts the life of people in the thirties. Everyone lives what they can. The life of the villagers is very simple. The school has no desks, no benches, no notebooks, no textbooks, no pencils.
Vitya main character story - live without parents. A huge role in his life is played, perhaps, by the dearest person grandmother. She scolds the boy for his cold feet, grumbles a little, but then she will nurse all night, give milk, rub, wrap up and stay until morning near the bed of her beloved grandson.
In the narrative, the author introduces the image of windows. In some there was just cotton wool and three or four rosettes of mountain ash with leaves. In others, even glasses were not everywhere. In the third, everything was piled up: cotton wool, and moss, and mountain ash, and viburnum, and even multi-colored paper flowers that served as the most the best decoration. "By the window, without even entering the house, you can determine what kind of hostess lives here, what kind of character she has and what is the everyday life in the hut."
There is an image of a flower in the story, which is the "double" of the boy. Sometimes, it fades away, dies, but nevertheless, by the spring it is reborn again, pale green shoots appear and hastily stretch upwards to open up one day. beautiful flower.
In the fragment of the story where the main character is not allowed to be photographed, the author uses a lot of verbs. Thus, Astafiev tries to describe the psychological state of the boy, to convey his thoughts, feelings and emotions to the reader. Vitya really wants to go and take a picture with everyone. But at the same time, he realizes that he can't walk at all.
The grandmother of the protagonist is a kind and caring villager. In his speech, the author included a huge number of dialect and vernacular words and expressions. So Astafiev showed all the simplicity and unpretentiousness of the Russian people.
Of course, in the village there are drunkards and "unreliable people." But they do not determine the atmosphere of life. The teacher is especially respected not only for his knowledge, but also for the fact that he himself respects everyone, greets everyone and never refuses a request. The people in this story, although not perfect, appreciate the inner, spiritual beauty of people.
In this story, I liked the fact that the village lives like one big family, friendly and strong. Sometimes there are quarrels in it, but with the power of kindness, helping and forgiving, you can overcome all troubles. - A photographer came from the city on a cart!
The photographer arrived after noon, and on this occasion the school was interrupted.
The teacher and the teacher - husband and wife - began to think about where to place the photographer for the night.
They decided to put him in a visiting house, but Aunt Avdotya intervened.
The photographer was attached for the night at the foreman of the alloy office. There lived in our village a literate, businesslike, respected person, Ilya Ivanovich Chekhov. He came from the exiles.
Everyone wanted to please the photographer, so that he would appreciate the care for him and take pictures of the guys as expected, take good pictures.
Throughout the long winter evening, schoolchildren walked around the village, wondering who would sit where, who would wear what, and what the routine would be. The solution to the question of routines was not in our favor with Sanka. Diligent students will sit in front, middle students in the middle, bad students in the back - it was decided so. Neither in that winter, nor in all subsequent ones, Sanka and I did not surprise the world with diligence and behavior, it was difficult for us to count on the middle. To be behind us, where you can’t make out who is filmed? Are you or are you not? We got into a fight to prove by battle that we are lost people ... But the guys drove us out of their company, they didn’t even contact us to fight. Then Sanka and I went to the ridge and began to ride from such a cliff, from which no one reasonable person never rode. Ukharsky whooping, swearing, we raced for a reason, we raced to death, smashed the heads of the sled against the stones, our knees wore down, fell out, scooped up full wire rods in the snow.
At night, retribution for a desperate revelry came - my legs ached.
grandmother, and, groping for me in the dark, first of all gave me a crack. Then she rubbed my legs with ammonia for a long time. She rubbed alcohol thoroughly, dry.
I didn't sleep that night. Neither grandmother's prayer, nor ammonia, nor the usual shawl, especially affectionate and healing because mother's, did not bring relief. I fought and yelled at the whole house.
In the morning my grandmother took me to the bathhouse - I could no longer walk on my own. For a long time my grandmother rubbed my legs with a steamed birch broom, warmed them over the steam from red-hot stones, hovered all over me through a rag, dipping the broom in bread kvass, and in conclusion, again rubbed with ammonia.
I didn't go to school for over a week. My grandmother treated me and spoiled me, gave jams, lingonberries, cooked boiled dryers, which I loved very much.
Then the teacher came to visit. Prince show the photo.
The next is about teachers and schools. - The plot tells that one day a photographer came to the village from the city to take a picture of the students of the school. The children immediately began to think about how and where to stand. They decided that diligent good students should sit in the front, those who study satisfactorily in the middle, and bad students should be placed at the back. Vitka and his bosom friend Sanka, in theory, were supposed to stand behind, since they did not differ in diligent study, and even more so in behavior. To prove to everyone that they are completely crazy people, the boys went to ride in the snow from such a cliff, from which no normal person would ever go. As a result, having rolled in the snow, they dispersed to their homes. Retribution for such ardor was not long in coming, and in the evening Vitka's legs ached. Grandmother independently diagnosed him with rematism. The boy could not stand up, howled and groaned in pain. Katerina Petrovna was very angry with her grandson and lamented: I told you, don't be shy! However, she immediately went for medicine. Although the grandmother grumbles at her grandson and mimics him, she treats him with great tenderness and strong affection. Giving him a slap, she begins to rub her grandson's feet with ammonia for a long time. Katerina Petrovna deeply sympathizes with him, since he is an orphan: by a fatal accident, his mother drowned in the river, and his father had already formed another family in the city. Friendship This is how the summary began. The photograph in which I am not present, as a literary work, tells that due to his illness, the boy Vitya still misses one of the most important events - photographing with the class. He is very sorry about this, in the meantime, the grandmother comforts her grandson and says that as soon as he recovers, they themselves will go to the city to the best photographer Volkov, and he will take any pictures, even for a portrait, even for a patchport, even on an eroplane, even on horseback, whatever. And here the plot comes to the most important moment. The summary (Photo on which I am not) describes that Vitka's friend Sanka comes for a friend in the morning and sees that he cannot stand on his feet, and then he immediately decides not to go to be photographed either. Sanka acts like a true friend who does not want to upset Vitka even more and therefore also misses this event. Even despite the fact that Sanka was getting ready and put on a new padded jacket, he begins to reassure Vitka that this is not the last time a photographer has come to them, and next time they will be in the frame. A photograph where I am not present: review and analysis Although the friendship of village boys is considered here at a very childish level, this episode will affect the development of the hero's personality. In the future, it will be very important: not only his grandmother's upbringing and care influenced his attitude to the world around him, but also respectable relations with friends. The work A photograph, in which I am not present, reveals the image of true Russian grandmothers, how they lived in their villages, ran their household, decorated and insulated their windows with moss, because it "sucks in dampness", they put a charcoal so that the glass would not freeze, and they hung rowan from fumes. By the window they judged which mistress lives in the house. Teacher Vitya did not go to school for more than a week. One day a teacher came to them and brought a photograph. Katerina Petrovna greeted him with great cordiality and hospitality, talked sweetly, treated him to tea and put on the table treats that can only be found in the countryside: lingonberries, lampaseiki (candy in a tin can), city gingerbread and dryers. The teacher in their village was the most respected person, because he taught children to read and write, and also helped the locals write the necessary letters and documents. For such benevolence, people helped him with firewood, milk, to look after the child, and grandmother Ekaterina Petrovna spoke to his baby's navel. Conclusion Here on this
