“The morning swirled with young August fogs ...” - this is how Yevgeny Nosov’s story “Apple Spas” begins. Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord. On this day, worship takes place. Therefore, “the bell ... briskly called, calling people. They squeezed their way to the priest, unrolling string bags and bundles of apples in front of him. The soul is calm, calm, light and joyful. It blew apples. So I wanted to buy "a cheerful invigorating product, at the mere sight of which the soul becomes younger and rejoices." You eat a sacred apple - and God will give you the opportunity to change, transform, become better, save your soul.
Among the many vendors at the church porch, the author attracted the attention of a small, frail old woman, sitting motionless and aloof next to a bucket of completely unsightly apples. Evdokia Lukyanovna Kuzina . It was she who was chosen by the writer, having bypassed young elegant, vigorous women and bought an unenviable product from her. Painfully pierces every word of this granny, addressed to a random buyer: “If you give a candle, so save the Lord on that ... Waking up ... The soul lives a little, she has her own food ... If you remember your mother, add it to bread ... ". In these words - the whole character of Baba Puli, her dignity, long-suffering, sincerity, kindness. In order to get some money, she is forced to sell apples - carrion, which is unlikely to be bought, but she hopes. Then the author will go to her house to buy more apples. And learn the story of her life. And life was very hard. Gradually, her fate is revealed to us, full of bitter trials and hardships.
Nosov E.I.Apple Spas: stories / Evgeny Nosov; [foreword V. Kurbatov; artistic S. Eloyan]. - Irkutsk: Publisher Sapronov, 2006. - 540, p.: ill.
The main character of the story during the war years was a sniper. When the war began, she, an ordinary village girl, went to the front, became a sniper and fought on an equal footing with men.
This is how she talks about the hard front-line everyday life of a sniper and about the terrible wound that mutilated her ear:
“This is me their sniper. Didn't hear. Ringing in my head...
“And what were you looking for?”
And everything that moves. But there are more emplacements, gun emplacements... A machine gun fires away - you immediately hit the flash... Well, yes, it’s scary, but your hands are doing it ... And the rest of the day in your head: hit - didn’t hit? Got it and that's it! Even though I didn't see it myself. To rejoice at good luck, as it used to be, rejoiced at the shooting range, but there is no joy. It's dreary at heart, sticky somehow. Eat - a piece of tears, people turn back ... Probably, a woman should not be taught this. Her insides do not accept, something in her breaks off ... Another, maybe later, will depart, but whose soul will remain a lump ... Some kind of thrasher penetrates me all over. Shaking to the very heels, as if I were cold. I do not twist the shag with my fingers, I smoke into my sleeve until the pricking stops ...
You lie in a swamp, there is no rest from mosquitoes. Itching under the German's nose, you won't brush it off, lie down, be patient, otherwise they'll spot it - they'll shoot you. Or they’ll throw mines over... When you return from hiding, your muzzle is like a bull’s bladder, full, smeared with your own blood... And the next day, a little light, you’ll be back in your outfit...
- How many medals do you have?
- Yes, Simka is my main medal. And they seemed to be sent to others, but something did not reach. It all depends on the authorities: how you are connected with him, such are your notches, such are the medals ... "
The simple, unpretentious plot of this story cannot be read without excitement. Baba Bullet, as they called her in the village, did not bring awards from the front, only her daughter Simka. A loved one was killed by a direct bomb hit. Only one boot remained from him, which she keeps in a chest. “I’ll get it when I cry, I’ll talk,” Baba Bullet admits to the guest.
The amazing strength and resilience of this man is amazing. “What happened, happened,” she says simply. And in response to the question why she did not reach Germany, she shyly, as if apologizing, says: “I didn’t succeed ... I only reached Lithuania, or even Latvia. Do I remember the town where they stood. I, therefore, Lukyanovna, and the city - Lukiyany. That's how I remember it."
Modesty, humility, patience are the main qualities of the character of Evdokia Lukyanovna. It was hard for her to raise one daughter, but she courageously endures all the hardships of the post-war period ... The grown-up daughter left for the city, became an accountant. But her life turned out unsuccessfully, she returned to her mother for help: she was wasted at work. So Evdokia Lukyanovna had to sell the house. And the sacrifice turned out to be in vain: Simu was equally condemned, and she died in the camp. And again this glorious woman thought not of herself. So Lukyanovna was left alone, in a house without a roof, in a kitchenette that had survived the fire, along with the same lonely and abandoned cat, no one needed, no one understood.
Nosov's story is an appeal to all of us: one cannot be indifferent, pass by misfortune, grief, people in need of help. You need to see this pain, because and kind word can warm a person.
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Nosov Evgeny Ivanovich. 1925 - 2002 |
Evgeny Ivanovich Nosov is a famous writer, a participant in the Great Patriotic War. This is one of the talented writers of our time, a humanist and romantic in character and attitude to life. All the work of E.I. Nosova is a big wise book that helps people to be kinder, more generous in soul. And at the heart of his work is his big life, about which he writes very restrainedly and briefly in his autobiography.
I was born on a chilly January evening in 1925 in my grandfather's dimly lit hut. The village of Tolmachevo stretches along the river Seim, in the waters of which in the evenings the lights of the nearby city of Kursk were reflected, which rose high with its hills and cathedrals. Kursk has been famous since ancient times. “And my Kuryans are good warriors,” Vsevolod used to say to his brother Prince Igor in the epic poem “The Tale of Igor’s Campaign” - they were cherished under helmets, fed from the end of the spear. Further along the river Seim are the ancient sister cities of Rylsk and Putivl. All of them are older than Moscow and were cut down by Kievan Rus.
And from another village window I saw a spacious meadow, flooded in the spring, and a mysterious forest behind it, and even more distant locomotive smoke behind the forest, always beckoning me on the road, which later turned out to be literature - the main path of my life.
With the exception of the October Revolution, the Civil War and the first post-war years of devastation, all other stages of our history passed before my eyes. Childhood is always impressive, and I still clearly remember how collectivization came to Tolmachevo, how the gatherings were noisy, the neighbor women who ran to us were grieving, and how the worried grandfather kept walking and walking around the yard, looking first into the barn, then into the stall to the horse , which he soon nevertheless took to the common courtyard, along with a cart and harness. At the turn of the thirties, my father and mother entered the Kursk Machine Repair Plant, and I became a city dweller. My father mastered the business of a boilermaker, riveted boilers and iron bridges of the first five-year plans, and my mother became a sieve maker, and I remember her already without a village braid, cut short, in a red satin scarf. You can read about this period of my life in the story “Do not have ten rubles ...”, as well as in the stories “The Bridge” and “The House Behind the Triumphal Arch”.
Life was difficult then, especially in 1932-1933, when cards were introduced in the country and we, working children, fed ourselves with roadside rolls, barely set apples, acacia flowers, vetch pods, which were dragged from horses in the city bazaar. In 1932, I went to school, where we kids were fed with a thin kulesh and given a slice of coarse black bread. But in general, we were not particularly discouraged. When they got older, they ran to the library for "Tom Sawyer" and "Treasure Island", glued gliders and box kites, argued a lot and dreamed.
Meanwhile, the Second World War was slowly creeping up. I was already in the fifth grade when I first saw the swarthy black-eyed children who arrived in our country from the fighting Republican Spain. In 1939, the war was already blazing in the very center of Europe, and in 1941 its fiery shaft fell upon our borders.
At the front, I had the hard part of an anti-tank gunner. This is a constant duel with tanks - who wins ... Or you him, or, if he missed, he - you ... Already at the end of the war, in East Prussia, the German "Ferdinand" nevertheless caught our gun in the sight, and I spent half a year in a hospital in a plaster shell.
By September 1945, the doctors had mended me somehow, and I returned to school to continue my interrupted studies. I went to classes in a tunic (there was no other clothes), with orders and medals. At first they took me for a new teacher, and the schoolchildren respectfully greeted me - after all, I was older than many of them by a whole war.
After graduating from school, I left for Kazakhstan, where, just as later in Kursk, I worked in a newspaper. Correspondent trips made it possible to accumulate extensive life impressions, which nourished and to this day feed my writing inspiration. Constant communication with nature also gives me a lot: I am an avid fisherman, a lover of spending the night by the fire, I know almost all Kursk herbs. In 1975, for the book "Meadow Fescue Noisy" he was awarded the Gorky State Prize, for stories of recent years - the Sholokhov Prize. My constant theme is still the life of a simple village man, his moral origins, attitude to the earth, nature and to all modern life.
The days of summer were pouring like apples. By the Transfiguration of the Lord, they were ripe and, as it were, rounded. From the earth and the sun came a cool apple spirit. On the eve of the Transfiguration, my father brought a large bag of apples... So that they smelled like a holiday, they laid them out on all tables, window sills and shelves. Seven selected raspberry boletuses were placed under the icons on a white cloth - tomorrow we will carry them to the church to be blessed. According to the village commandment, it is a sin to eat apples before consecration.
“The whole earth stands on the blessing of the Lord,” the mother explained, “on Palm Saturday, the Merciful Savior blesses the willow, on the Trinity - birch, on Elijah the Prophet - rye, on the Transfiguration - apples and every other fruit. There are special dates set by God when cucumbers, carrots, blueberries, wild strawberries, raspberries, doves, cloudberries, lingonberries, mushrooms, honey and every other gift of God are blessed... It is a sin to pluck the fruit before the time! Give him, my dear, to enter into strength, to be nourished by dew, earth and the sun, to wait for a merciful blessing for the needs of man!
On the eve of the Transfiguration, almost all the children of the city poured out to the market, to the cheerful apple rows. Large cartloads of apples were brought on dusty carts from the villages of Gdovya, Prinarovye, and Peipudye. Hot-ruddy, clear-sighted, autumn-colored, crimson, golden-sparkling, amber, gray-gray, white, green, with red girdles, freckled, pinkish, golden-transparent (indus grains shine through), large, like an orb in the hand of the Lord Almighty, and small that they hang on a Christmas tree - they lay in heaps in hay, on mats, in straw, in baskets, in boxes, boxes, in mottled rustic bags, in tubs and in special fake measurements.
Got up early in the morning. In the yard the dawn was turning yellow - an early morning. She blew the last dream from the roofs. The dawning day opened its golden gates wider and wider, and before I had time to see enough of the sunrise, which I had so rarely seen, the sun appeared in these gates and walked along the earth with the tread of the Great Sovereign, coming from the Bright Matins. For a long time I thought about why the sun merged with the procession of the Great Sovereign, which I saw in some picture, and could not think of it. Father, washed and combed, in a vest over a cotton shirt and varnished boots, walked around the room and sang: "Thou hast been transfigured on the mountain of Christ God."
"Transfiguration... Transfiguration..." I kept repeating. How well and singly well this word fits the expanding and blossoming day. With a white bundle of apples, they went to mass. Everywhere these knots, like Easter cakes, took their places in the house of God: on the steps of the pulpit, and on special long tables, on window sills, and even on the floor under the icons. They lay ruddy and ingenuously before God, having entered into strength, saturated with dew, earth and the sun, now ready to go to the needs of man and waiting only for God's blessing.
During the singing of “Thou hast been transfigured,” a large basket with church apples was brought to the pulpit. They read a prayer over them and sprinkled them with holy water. When they approached the cross, the priest gave everyone a consecrated apple. During the whole day, juicy apple crunch was heard in the streets.
Joyfully and peacefully ended the sunny, apple-round day of the Transfiguration of the Lord.
Goy you, Rus', my dear,
Huts - in the robes of the image ...
See no end and end
“Only blue sucks his eyes.
Like a wandering pilgrim,
I watch your fields.
And at the low outskirts
The poplars are languishing.
Smells like apple and honey
In the churches, your meek Savior.
And buzzes behind the bark
There is a cheerful dance in the meadows.
I'll run along the wrinkled stitch
To the freedom of the green lekh,
Meet me like earrings
A girlish laugh will ring out.
If the holy army shouts:
"Throw you Rus', live in paradise!"
I will say: "There is no need for paradise, Give me my homeland."
Sergey Yesenin
The hour of the Transfiguration is ripening,
He will descend, our Bright Guest,
Of crucified patience
Pull out the cracked nail.
From morning and from noon
Under the thunder in the sky
Like buckets, our everyday life
He fills with milk.
And from evening to night
Never-ending glorifying land,
Will prophesy by the stars
Silvery harvest.
And when a month is over the Volga
Will bow his face to drink water, -
He, hanging in a golden boat,
Will float away to their gardens.
And from the bosom of blue
Waving the oar wide,
Like an egg, we will drop the word
With a hatched chick.
Sergey Yesenin
E.N. Nosov "Apple Spas". The name of this writer is already familiar to me. I remember his unforgettable works “Living Flame”, “Wandering Magpies”. His works are small in volume, but interesting in content, because Yevgeny Nosov writes about people and the most ordinary phenomena, but in an ordinary person he notices and shows the reader his beauty, spiritual wealth and exceptional character. Critics consider him a "village writer" because he devoted almost all of his stories to the village.
He shows the reader the rural, peasant life, the features of people. Perhaps all this is due to the fact that he himself grew up in the countryside, loved it, enjoyed the beauty of nature that surrounded him, saw the work of rural workers. Therefore, his works are liked by readers. It is no coincidence that he was awarded the State Prize.
And here is his new story with an unusual and such a poetic title “Apple Spas”. The story is very short. Will it be interesting to read? “The morning swirled with young August fogs ...” - this is how his story begins. And now, together with him, we are transported to the world of nature, beauty, “see” mowed fields in the sparkles of dropped straw, “herds of young horses”, inhale the smell of “apple wind” and a heady aroma with an admixture of oregano”, wormwood and something else exciting and native." The soul is calm, calm, light and joyful.
The hero of the story “joyfully rides on an old Niva”. And together with him we are already in Maly Ukhnaly. “Here, as in all holy Rus', the Apple Savior begins. ” This holiday comes according to the Orthodox calendar on August 19, called the Transfiguration. You eat a sacred apple - and God will give you the opportunity to change, transform, become better, save your soul. On this day, worship takes place. Therefore, “the bell ... briskly called, calling people. They squeezed their way to the priest, unrolling string bags and bundles of apples in front of him. It's fun for the author to look at "the rural people, awkwardly prettied up with new clothes, at the rejoicing children." It blew apples. So I wanted to buy “a cheerful, invigorating product, at the mere sight of which the soul becomes younger and rejoices.” Here he met with the main character of the story, Evdokia Lukyanovna.
What made you stop in front of the “little puny grandmother”? What attracted this old woman to his attention? After all, the apples that she sold looked sluggish, while others were fresh, ruddy, strong.
I think this person has a kind soul. I saw, I saw among the women the one that needed warmth and participation. And Baba Puli has a kind, generous soul, she is ready to give him apples for next to nothing. “Give me a candle, and on that, God save you.” This is where the plot of the story begins. "The soul lives in smallness, it has its own food." This woman just lacked this smallness - sympathy and attention from people. Perhaps that is why she penetrates sympathy for a stranger. The author, together with Lukyanova, goes to her house to buy more apples. And learn the story of her life.
And life was very hard. Youth has come for years. The author, himself a participant in the war, listens with interest to the story of how this woman fought. She was a sniper. She defended her homeland. How many Germans she exterminated, she doesn’t know, didn’t count, it wasn’t before. But at the front, in the midst of blood and death, she did not lose her kindness and compassion. She killed the Nazis, but it was "a dreary heart." A woman is a future mother, she is the keeper of the hearth, so it was very difficult to kill.
She was also unlucky in her personal life. A loved one was killed at the front, and nothing was left except for the boot, which Baba Bullet kept until the end of her life, and her daughter Sima became her reward in life. Baba Bullet did not tell about how hard it was for her to raise one daughter. It's left behind the pages of the story. But the reader can imagine the difficult post-war years. The daughter grew up, went to the city, became an accountant. Her life was unsuccessful, she returned to her mother for help: she was wasted at work. So Evdokia Lukyanovna had to sell the house. And again this glorious woman thought not of herself. “But the widow's money was not enough, Sima was found guilty. She felled wood in the Urals, ”and there she was crushed by a tree. So Lukyanovna was left alone, even her granddaughter does not remember her, she went to Africa and forgot her grandmother.
Lukyanovna's house was left without a roof, windows without frames, and a black-and-white cat, the only living soul.
And her life is black and white. But Lukyanova did not harden, her soul did not
hardened. She is ready to treat her unexpected guest with tea, and allows him to smoke in the house, and does not want to let him go quickly, because she hasn’t had anyone for a long time ...
That's the whole plot of the story. It is simple, unpretentious, takes one day in time, but it is impossible to read it without excitement. The problems that the author raises in the story are relevant for our time. We saw a lonely old woman who no one cares about. Everyone has forgotten it: the state, fellow villagers, and local authorities. But she is a participant in the war, but she has neither medals nor benefits, no one helped her fix her house, which burned down, no one brought firewood, and she had to cut down apple trees.
And is she the only one? We see through the eyes of Nosov and our modern village: dilapidated houses, a broken bridge. The village is our breadwinner. And the state should provide it with great assistance, strive for its restoration. But… “what power, dear!” Lukyanovna lifted up an empty bucket. “Now there is no power in Ukhnaly. A castle was hung in that place. It’s already rusted, go…” And you are imbued with a great feeling of admiration, you bow before the great patience of a Russian person, especially a woman.
The composition of the story is simple - it is a story within a story, the narration is in the first person. This helped the author to create a reliable story about the village and its inhabitants. And the reader believes him.
Evgeny Nosov is a master of the story. He surprisingly accurately conveys the thoughts and feelings of his characters, and the author himself is one of the main characters. And if at the beginning of the story he was joyfully in his soul, then after meeting with Lukyanova “something did not give, interfered with an even course ... “The reader is also restless in his soul.
This is the power of the written word. How can the author help his heroine? His story is an appeal to us young people. It is impossible to be indifferent, to pass by misfortune, grief, people in need of help. You need to see this pain, because a kind word can warm a person.
Why does the author call his story “Apple Savior”? I think it's not just about the Orthodox holiday. The word "saved" comes from the word "save". To save the souls of people before they become completely hardened, to save them from indifference, deafness. It is no coincidence that the icon with the image of the Savior looks sternly at people. She, as it were, condemns all of us for indifference, for heartlessness. Chekhov has wonderful words: “It is necessary that someone with a bell should stand behind the door of every contented, happy person and constantly remind by knocking that there are unfortunate ones ...”
And the sounds of the church bells sound the alarm - come to your senses, people, you must not lose your souls.
Need a cheat sheet? Then save it - "Review-essay on the story of E. Nosov" Apple Spas ". Literary writings!Zinaida Kolosova
Short-term project "And we have the Apple Savior"
“Happy Holidays!” children rejoice,
Eating apples in the garden.
“Happy Holidays,” they exclaimed,
"Hooray! Savior came to us
To every family"
Members project: children junior group "Fidgets", parents of pupils, educators.
Relevance project: At present, there is a need for the child to feel the uniqueness of his people, to know the history of the family, the country, to love his homeland, to come to an understanding of his own uniqueness, and the significance of every person living on Earth. In order for culture to have an effective impact on the moral development of the individual, and for the individual to feel the need for true culture, for mastering its values, it is necessary to form a basis for recreating culture, which involves a deep knowledge of traditions and customs, active pedagogical activity among the younger generation from the standpoint of revival national foundations, primarily in the field of culture and education. The pedagogical aspect of culture is understood by us not only as the revival and recreation of traditions.
Target: Through the Apple Holiday saved”To acquaint children with the rites and customs of the Russian people. To attach to Russian folk traditions. Create a joyful holiday atmosphere. Promote development motor activity children.
Tasks: Educational: Introduce children to the Apple holiday saved and his traditions. To form a sense of belonging to the history of the Motherland through acquaintance with folk holidays and traditions - Happy Apple Day Spas Educational: To develop the ability to correlate the form with the real object. Develop dexterity, ingenuity.
Develop motor skills, coordination of movement. Develop tactile sensation. Develop attention, memory.
Educational: To cultivate the ability to subordinate their actions to instructions. Cultivate mutual understanding, friendliness. Cultivate respect for each other and adults. To cultivate a caring attitude towards nature, as a source of autumn gifts.
Expected results: Accumulate experience in the perception of works of small folklore genres. Improve collaboration kindergarten and families in the field of spiritual and moral education. Vocabulary replenishment children: ruddy, ripe, liquid, harvest. Expansion of interest in a wonderful fruit - an apple. Get Parents Interested project. To offer joint cognitive-creative and research activities with children. Meaningful participation in Russian folk holidays (they know the names, sing Russian round dance songs, read poetry). They use nursery rhymes, counting rhymes, guess riddles in everyday life. They know how to play folk games.
Equipment: For research would need: Notebooks and an album for drawing fruits. Pencils, markers. Colored paper, scissors, glue. Photos, illustrations depicting apple trees, apples, apple products. Equipment for festive tea drinking.
Preparatory: Definition of the problem, goals and objectives. Studying literature, selecting material, finding and establishing effective relationships with parents. Selection of poems, stories, riddles for children about apples and others fruits: Movable folk gamesfun: “Bring the apples in a plate”, “Transfer an apple in a spoon to a basket”, “Help Masha get an apple”. Conduct conversations with children and parents. Competition of parents “The best recipes from apples”.
main stage: Prepare the script ""And we have Apple Saved. Cognitive and communicative activity: Reading stories of poetry and fairy tales: (Viktor Streltsov, "This Saved","Apple Spas “author Nata Nevskaya, “August. Apple Saved Larisa Beschastnaya” Storyteller Yuri Levitansky “TALE ABOUT APPLE TREE”, Vl. Suteev “Apple”, “The story of one apple tree” - Tale of K. Ushinsky, Elena Sergeychuk “TALE ABOUT APPLE”, Puzzles: “Round, ruddy, I grow on a branch. Adults love me, and little children”; “Samo with a cam, a red barrel. If you touch it, it's smooth; if you bite it, it's sweet." I look in the window, on the branch of the Sun. The sun is red and white. The sun is very ripe. (V. Struchkov)“I won’t tear off the ruddy Matryoshka from my friends, I’ll wait until the Matryoshka falls into the grass itself.” "Round, ruddy, fell from a tree, Luba got into her mouth." Conversation with children “Apple Spas” Didactic games: “What was gone”, “Wonderful bag”, “Find out to taste”. “Cognitive game “how to grow apples”.
productive activity: drawings on topic: “The harvest has ripened right down to the eye!” Collective non-traditional application on topic: "Our apple tree."
motor activity: Movable folk games: “Carousel”, “Pass the apple around”, “Harvest by color”. Games- fun: “Bring the apples in a plate”, “Transfer an apple in a spoon to a basket”, “Help Masha get an apple” .
finger game: “Roll, apple on a plate”
Interaction with parents: arouse the desire of parents to participate in project. Describe their role in project. Competition with parents “Treats from apples”. Arrival of guests (Yablonka and children senior group, hotel exchange. Watching an apple pie being made in the kitchen. Final stage: Holiday “And we have an Apple Saved” Festive tea with pies, apple jam. Summing up the results of the competition for parents for the best recipe.
Lesson Objectives:
Guys, today we have an unusual lesson. This is a lesson - a study, the result of your many days of work. The theme of the lesson is “The Courage to Survive and Remain Human” (according to the story of E. Nosov “Apple Spas”)
(Slide #1)
Final lesson. You have done a lot of preliminary work: all the students read several stories by this writer, analyzed the episodes in the unity of form and content, and studied historical material.
Today you have to show a philological analysis of the story "Apple Spas". This is a very difficult kind of work. The difficulty is that the creative teams had to develop slides that clearly confirm your research. All students of the class took part in the work, but one representative of the creative group will report. The rest of the students at the end of the lesson will make a small review of the performance of their comrades.
- In order to fulfill his main task, to convey the main idea to the reader, the author selects pictures, arranges the material in a certain sequence, that is, he mounts his work. The composition directs the reader's perception and, as it were, offers him the keys to understanding the work.
– Consider the compositional construction of the story by E. Nosov “Apple Spas”.
Message from students of group 1 (Slide No. 3)
At the heart of the story “Apple Spas” is, at first glance, the case, as the narrator, driving through the village of “Malye Ukhnali”, bought a bucket of apples on Spasov Day and met the main character Evdokia Lukyanovna. There are two more stories in the story.
First story. The story of the destroyed village and the fate of the heroine. The plot of the story is a destroyed bridge over the river. The development of the action is the fate of Lukyanovna: the arrival of Seraphim, the sale of the house, the fire, the death of her daughter. The denouement is the complete loneliness of the heroine.
Second story. Baba Bullet's past. In the part of the house where there is nowhere to put your feet, everything is neatly tidied up, a military photograph on the wall, which the hostess no longer sees. This is the end of the story. Kazan. Front. Wound. Equipping our armies and the Germans. The dramatic story of a female sniper. This is the development of action. The denouement is the complete loneliness of the heroine.
- The next stage of our lesson will be work on the portrait characteristics of the main character, since the portrait gives us the opportunity to imagine, see the depicted person and serves as a means of the author's attitude towards him.
- What details of the heroine's appearance does the author pay attention to?
Message from students of the 2nd group (Slide No. 4)
“... a small, frail old lady ... a gray rubberized raincoat. A gray goat's handkerchief was pulled over her face, leaving only the tip of a pointed nose and a hard, pumice-colored gray chin visible. With all this dullness, angularity and detached immobility, she reminded me of a marsh bird, a bittern, patiently waiting for its random prey. The state-owned houses in a gray dressing gown began to look not like a bittern, but like a gray bird. “A face crumpled by time” flashed into a “weak smile”. “Across her pitted forehead lay a crossbar, burdened with thought.” “Under the thrown back strand, I saw with a shudder the crimson hunks of the ear.” The crimson color of the ear chunks makes the narrator shudder. Isn't he the beginning of dullness, the beggarly look of a woman?
Pay attention to the details on which the print is gray. Before us is a creature drained of life, having lost its strength.
"The eyes are the window to the soul." But the soul cannot be expressed through the eyes, because they are only "reddish slits filled with moisture."
We can not help but pay attention to the hands of the heroine. Tick-trembling hand. “Showed two crooked fingers.” “Her right hand trembled slightly, and she carefully, as if bruised, stroked it with her left palm.”
“She stopped, breathing rapidly, gasping for air with her mouth wide open.” “Skipped to the other side.” She spoke "breathlessly". All these descriptions make the reader feel a piercing pain for a person who has lost his natural outline.
- So, having examined the portrait of Evdokia Lukyanovna, we clearly imagined the heroine, the characteristic details of her appearance, the repetitions that the author uses, color adjectives helped us in this. The author conveyed his sympathy for the heroine to the reader.
- Now, with the help of dialogues, we will try to reveal the character of Baba Puli, to learn more about her life.
Message from students of the 3rd group (Slide No. 5)
Dialogue is the most important artistic means of revealing the character of the heroine. It takes on a dynamic form of answers to the narrator's questions, often turns into a heroine's monologue about what does not lose its sharpness over the years and lives in memory for a long time.
The daily military feat is still not realized by her - it is considered an ordinary and very insignificant matter. Lukyanovna tells without any pathos about the hard front-line everyday life, about the daily work of a sniper, about a terrible injury. Here are examples of the mean words of the heroine:
- It's their sniper. Didn't hear. Ringing in my head...
“And what were you looking for?”
And everything that moves. But more firing points, enbrasures. I got it ... Rejoice in luck ... It's a chore in my soul, somehow sticky. Eat - a piece of your mouth does not tear, people turn back ... Probably, a woman should not be taught this. Her insides do not accept, something in her breaks off ... Another, maybe later, will depart, but whose soul will remain a lump ... Some kind of thrasher penetrates me all over. Shaking to the very heels, as if I were cold. I twist the shag not with my fingers, I smoke into my sleeve until the prickling stops.
You lie in a swamp, there is no rest from mosquitoes. Itching under the German's nose, you won't brush it off, lie down, be patient, otherwise they'll spot it - they'll shoot you. Or they’ll throw mines over... When you return from hiding, your muzzle is like a bull’s bladder, full, smeared with your own blood... And the next day, a little light, you’ll be back in your outfit...
- How many medals do you have?
- Yes, Simka is my main medal. And they seemed to be sent to others, but something did not reach. It all depends on the authorities: how you are connected with him, such are your notches, such are the medals.
So, figurative peasant speech flows, conveying the limit of human tension in torment, suffering in the performance of duty in the fight against an enemy that surpasses satiety and equipment.
Lukyanovna's heroism is not a one-time accomplishment of a bright and significant feat, but everyday self-sacrifice, a heroism that she never realized ... “What happened, it happened,” she will simply say. This, probably, is her amazing strength, the strength of the Russian soul and the foundation of the Victory. And the consciousness that the enemy was superior in strength gave rise to even greater courage of resistance, which was in this young girl.
To the narrator’s question why she didn’t reach Germany, there is a rich monologue speech, shy, as if apologetic: “I didn’t succeed ... I only reached Lithuania, or even Latvia. I remember the town where we stood. I, therefore, Lukyanovna, and the city - Lukiyany. That's how I remember it."
- In what did Evdokia Lukyanovna not "succeed"? What prevented her?
Consider the actions of the main character. It is by them that a person is judged.
Message from students of group 4 (Slide No. 6)
The first conscious act to save a girl's honor. “It is difficult for a girl to survive in a war. Everyone rubs around you. Duck, and I was young, I also wanted to believe ... I waved it off, waved it off, and chose a security guard for myself, so that at least the rest would not stick ... ”
This forced, but her choice led to another act that she did not have time to realize - he brought her out of her normal physical state: “she didn’t do it”, “her heart stumbled”.
Two soldiers and Sergeant Felix ask her to “get” a German stuck in the middle of a swamp from a rifle. She looks at him through binoculars. “I look: all covered with duckweed, it must have run into bullets. At first it seemed that mud was on the head, and these bandages were green. A dirty rag covered one of his eyes, the other stared at me expectantly... It was such a terrible ghost from the depths of the skull! And what can I give him besides bullets! He moves his lips ... And his lips are flush with the water, and he can’t get words, but only bubbles hatch. ... And then I got sick. It can be seen that my edge has approached; that's how I shot at these skulls! I dropped the binoculars, covered my mouth and rushed into the bushes… I don’t remember anything about what happened. Her speech is very emotional, as if she is talking about the events that have just passed. Vocabulary characterizes a mental shock, could not stand the “terrible look” of a perishing already doomed to death. Her emotional speech testifies that the echo of the war still resounds in her soul with unrelenting pain.
Her security guard was blown up by a bomb, and the sniper, already a widow and future mother, is sent to self-survival in her native village.
– That's all that Evdokia Lukyanovna received in return for her scorched soul and broken fate.
Lukyanovna is a child of the 20th century, a century of bloody cataclysms, where human life has lost its value. Ideological epochs changed, extermination wars were fought in bloody battles. The village, destroyed by forced collectivization, is finally finished off by the war and post-war experiments of power over it.
- So what awaited the heroine of the story at home, in her native village?
Message from students of group 5 (Slide number 7)
The village of Malye Ukhnali is also in ruins. The echo of tragic changes and the war changed its former appearance and inner content. The village is just as abandoned by the authorities to self-survival, like Lukyanovna. About that and her story, how the house burned down, because the fire truck was going around, because instead of a bridge across the river they hung a “cradle”, which is dangerous to walk on.
The veteran has no hope for the future. It is impossible to fix the house: there is no “capital”, “a pension with a gulkin’s sock”, the authorities cannot help, because “there is no power in Ukhnaly”. Broken from her youth, she endures more and more blows of fate with great patience and meekness, by kindness and necessity losing her parental heritage: a house, an apple tree that was used for firewood. “…But neither coal nor firewood… They promised, they promised…”
She failed to become a cook, to get an education. She became an invalid, early old age and bitter loneliness came to her. There was no romance in love.
(Slide number 8)
The difficult paths of Lukyanovna's war are connected with pictures of nature that bring fear, misfortune, and death. This is how she recalls these foreign places: “The places there are deaf, deserted swamps. The water is peaty, in bubbles, everything gurgles, champs, sighs. On the bumps there are chickens in human height, reeds are on a par with alders, gray moss hangs on the trunks with beards. Trees are strangling ... There is nowhere to step.” Crows croak all around. The bodies floated up. They stink. From the stench from the soul turns back.
Surprisingly keen observation, sniper. Everything mysterious and alive, threatening rises before his eyes. All verbs are used in the present tense. Forms and sounds are ominous, the stinking smell seems to capture her imagination even now, the horror does not let go even after years of prescription. Lonely routes, performing tasks, she daily commits in an embrace with death. Such baggage of memory could not bring her joy. Like her whole unsettled life
E.I. Nosov created the image of a young Dusya, faithful to military duty, accomplishing her daily feat in hunger, in mud, in blood.
- We see how her soul gets used to everything that was laid down by the time of the 20th century. Patiently and without malice “her soul lives small”. But the "bird" this "shot" bears in itself the feeling of how the soul "breaks off", how it remained a "lump". Blinded, deafened, turned into a “cloak on crooked stilts”, devoid of a name, and without a name there is no person.
– Consider how Lukyanovna's speech reflects the history of her life.
Message from students of group 7 (Slide No. 9)
The narration is conducted on behalf of the narrator - the author and his heroine, Baba Puli, Lukyanovna.
Baba Puli's speech reflects the colloquial-folk elements of different eras: pre-revolutionary - Russian, military, Soviet. She comes from old Rus', therefore in the corner of her “chamber”, “behind the icon lamp, there is a dark icon of the Smolensk Hodegetria”. Orthodox culture has left its mark on speech. “Give it to a candle, and on that - God save you.” “Lord Jesus…” she crossed herself. “The soul lives in smallness. She has her own food." "I'll wash you, dove." Her speech is saturated with metaphors, comparisons of peasant life, which organically live in her: “Well, absolutely green russula.” “It’s the birds chirping in my head”
In each of her short phrases, a figurative picture, the word is filled with deep content. Her speech was also reflected in the war era. The lexicon of war has come into circulation. But the soul is not accepted. The distortion of words causes sympathy for her. The new words of the era are in this position: “anbrazury”, “instrument”, “made”, “bulgakter”.
This is not her element, in the new time she is a stranger, lonely, forgotten, deprived of communication with people.
Old Russian words sound in her speech, colloquial, colloquial, dialect, corresponding to her way of thinking and her environment. “But there was a footbridge here, but they plundered it all.” “It only reached Lithuania.”
Such a mixture of lexical layers reflects the history of Lukyanovna's life and the local flavor of the population, his speech.
(Slide number 10)
- The narration is conducted not only on behalf of Baba Puli, but also on behalf of the author. He appears before the reader by the way he relates to his heroine, to the past and present, to nature and man. His vision is special, from the height of insight he fixes everything with an all-seeing eye. His choice of the most “gray granny”, with the most nondescript apples, is nothing but insight and mercy for the “little man”.
Message from students of the 8th group (Slide No. 11, part 1)
The author in Maly Ukhnaly is not an accidental traveler. He knows the past of the village, in which until 1917 they hunted "horseshoe craft". Later, the authorities turned the village temple into a dump of “paper bags with chemicals, chalk and slaked lime”, “the temple is decapitated, with birch overgrowth on the cornice, covered in cement brushes and plasters.” The destruction of Orthodox culture, as well as the desecration of the Temple, caused undying pain in the author's soul for many years.
But now the narrator is in an enthusiastic mood. It is conveyed to the reader through the landscape:
“The morning swirled with young August fogs, still light, not hanging on bushes and grasses, but muslin soaring over the huts and fresh haystacks, filling the rest of the heavenly space, already warmed by the invisible sun, which made it seem as if the chimes of some great festival themselves were born on their own in the hazy mystery of the rising fine day. Under this good news, sometimes distant, sometimes muffled by fog, sometimes clear, with all the details of jubilant echoes, it was new for me, unusually joyful to drive around in my old Niva.
“From the orchards, already ripe, burdened with fruits, you will suddenly smell of waves of warm apple wind, you will uncontrollably inhale this heady aroma accumulated during the night with an admixture of oregano, wormwood and something else exciting and dear, pull it into yourself with all greed, as far as the buttons allow on the shirt." (The student reads the passage by heart against the background of music)
This is the revival of the morning, the revival of the Christian faith, the revival of the soul of the author. This natural August transformation of everything: from grasses - hay, from chicks - rooks, from foals - herds, from flowers - apples - was harmony, the result of the eternal accomplishments of nature and man.
“It was a sin not to guess that in Maliy Ukhnaly, as in all of Holy Rus', the Apple Savior began.”
The general harmony with the Savior in Malye Ukhnaly was manifested by the divine service in the Temple. These are the first steps in the revival of Christ's church.
All this is reflected in the hero's soul with joy, a mysterious feeling of renewal.
- In connection with what has changed his psychological state?
Message from students of group 9 (Slide No. 11, part 2)
“In anticipation of the approaching autumn, orange claws bloomed sparsely, tiredly, already beginning to wither and crumble with faded seeds. Between the claws rose several maple twigs planted by Lukyanovna, if only to somehow hide the ugliness of her dwelling.
Her story about the everyday life of the front led him to embarrassment: "I was embarrassed by this turn of our conversation." His psychological state becomes clearly dramatic. The overgrown path to the “chamber” of the heroine completely expels the author’s inner delight, and brings aching melancholy to the reader. “I went down and looked around: something did not give, interfered with a smooth move” ...
Obviously, this is not only a feeling of compassion, but also the bitterness of one's own impotence.
So, the narrator experiences two directly opposite feelings. First - joy, exultant delight to the feeling of youth, then - sympathy, embarrassment, impotence.
- Read the description of the flight of a tender butterfly that captivated the author on the way to the heroine's house. What is the meaning of this artistic image? (Slide number 12)
Sample responses from students. Teacher addition.
“Over the dark coffee water, a lemon-yellow butterfly flickered brittlely, flying from nowhere and where and involuntarily making you worry that it would not reach it with its timid and inept flight, or that it was about to be grabbed by a large-mouthed chub hiding under the vines.”
On the way back, she seemed to be waiting for him. “A bright yellow butterfly flashed again - probably already different, but it seemed to me that it was still the same, morning, having lost something in the willow rails ...
Or is she herself someone’s lost soul…?”
This butterfly is reminiscent of the life of Lukyanovna, who endures constant suffering. Through suffering, her soul is cleansed.
E.I. Nosov created the image of a woman who retained the moral values of Orthodoxy. Modesty, humility, patience are the main qualities of her character.
Lukyanovna is among disunited people who have lost Christ's mercy. But she managed to courageously endure all the suffering, managed to survive and remain human.
- What is the main idea of the story?
- Why is the story called "Apple Savior"?
(Slide number 13)
The author believes in the transformation of Holy Rus', because the moral values of Orthodoxy are already being revived, the Faith of Christ is being revived, the economy of the country is being restored. And if Russia is reborn, the people who inhabit it will also be reborn.
I would like to finish the main part of the lesson with the words from the Gospel: “Yes, love one another, as I have loved you. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples.”
