Astafiev Dome Cathedral. Collection of ideal social studies essays

Read the text
Define a style
and text type
Compose to text
plan
What is this text about?
What questions
brings the author to
discussion?
What worries
author?
What are the main
text problems
Write out these
offers
Formulate
problem with their
words
What proposals
the author's
position?
What did you want
say
author?
What does it teach
text?
For what
written
text?
Formulate the author's
position in words
Provide arguments for this idea
text
Do you agree with the point
the author's point of view?
Formulate
your opinion
words
What two
argument you
can you bring?

Problem
A comment
Author's position
own position
Argument 1
Argument 2
Conclusion

The Dome Cathedral is an ancient cathedral, which, to
unfortunately not fully preserved to our
days. It is located in the capital of Latvia - Riga.
The building was built of red brick and topped
black
bell
dome,
which
made in the baroque style. Inside Domskoy
cathedral
located
organ,
possessing
incredible acoustic power. He has 4
set of keys for hands. The organ was reconstructed
thrice. Works for the great organ
written by many eminent composers and
gave their concerts right in the cathedral. Organ
25 meters high, it sounds perfect.

(1) Dome Cathedral. (2) House... (B) House... (4) House..
(5) The vaults of the cathedral are filled with organ singing. (b) From the sky, from above
then the roar floats, then the thunder, then the gentle voice of lovers, then the call
Vestals, then the roulades of the horn, then the sounds of the harpsichord, then the dialect
rolling stream...
(7)3sounds sway like incense smoke. (8) 0 neither dense,
tangible, (9) not everywhere, and everything is filled with them: the soul, the earth, the world.
(10) Everything froze, stopped.
(11) Mental confusion, absurdity of vain life, petty
passions, everyday worries - everything, everything is left in another
place, in a different light, in another life far away from me,
there, somewhere.
“(12) Maybe everything that happened before was a dream? (13) Wars,
blood, fratricide, superhumans playing with human
destinies in order to establish oneself over the world...
(14) Why do we live so hard and hard on our land?
(15) Why? (16) Why?

(17)Home.(18)Home.(19)Home...
(20) Good News. (21) Music. (22) The darkness has disappeared. (23) The sun has risen.
(24) Everything is changing around.
(25) There is no cathedral with electric candles, with ancient beauty,
with glasses, toy and candy depicting paradise
life. (26) There is a world and I, subdued from reverence, ready
kneel before the greatness of the beautiful.
(27) Hall is full of people, old and young, Russian and
non-Russian, evil and good, vicious and bright, tired and
enthusiastic, everyone.
(28) And there is no one in the hall!
(29) There is only my humble, disembodied soul, she
oozes incomprehensible pain and tears of quiet delight.
(30) She is being cleansed, the soul, and it seems to me, the whole world has harbored
breath, thought this bubbling, formidable our world, ready
fall on your knees with me, repent, fall withered

(31) Dome Cathedral. (32) Dome Cathedral.
(33) 3 they don’t applaud here. (34) 3here people cry from
tenderness that overwhelmed them.
(35) Everyone cries about his own. (36) But together everyone is crying about
that ends, a beautiful dream subsides, which is short-lived
magic, deceptively sweet oblivion and endless torment.
(37) Dome Cathedral. (38) Dome Cathedral.
(39) You are in my trembling heart. (40) I bow my head
in front of your singer, I thank you for the happiness, albeit brief, for
delight and faith in the human mind, for the miracle created and sung
this mind, I thank you for the miracle of the resurrection of faith in
life. (41) 3a everything, thank you for everything!
(According to V. Astafiev)

What is the text you read about?
(About music).
What questions does the author consider, what does he talk about?
(About how music changes perception
the environment, the state of mind changes
hero).
What does the author want to tell us through this text?
(About the enormous power of music, about its ability to influence
human soul, heal human hearts).

The author of the text V. Astafiev reflects
about the influence of music on a person
Music brings people together.
What will save the human soul?
Only music.

The sounds of music are everywhere, and everything is filled with them: the soul,
earth, world.
Spiritual turmoil, the absurdity of a vain life,
petty passions, everyday worries - everything, everything
left in another world...
Wars, blood, fratricide, supermen...
Why do we live so hard and hard on
our land?
Here people weep because of the tenderness that has overwhelmed them.
In the proposed for analysis
text, the author reflects on
the role of music in life
person.

Essay-reasoning plan for
given text.
I. Introduction.
II. Formulation of the main problem of the original
text.
III. Commentary on the main problem of the text.
IV. Definition of the author's position.
V. Statement of own position:
1st argument in defense of one's own position;
2nd argument;
VI. Conclusion.
Thus, an essay according to a given text should have
approximately 9 parts. Each part must be written with
red line. The sequence of parts also does not change
necessary, otherwise the logic of presentation will be violated.

The introduction can be written in the form:
Lyrical reflection.
A series of rhetorical questions consonant with the topic
(idea, problem).
A number of nominal sentences that create
figurative picture that arises from associations in
connection with the theme of the text.
May begin with a quote, proverb,
sayings.
May start with a text keyword, etc.
Introduction
To
composition
By
text
V. Astafiev should be ... About what? (about music).

The introduction could be like this:
The French writer Stendhal said: "Music, when
she is perfect, brings the heart to exactly the same
state,
which
experiencing
enjoying
the presence of a beloved being, that is, what she gives,
undoubtedly the brightest happiness possible
not earth."
Perhaps such a beginning, if you do not remember the author
verbatim statement or quotation:
One (French) writer said that music gives
man the brightest happiness that is possible
earth, but affects the human soul as much as
Love".

Formulating the problem

FORMULATE THE PROBLEM
A denominative sentence in which we formulate
topic
text (e.g. Music… Magic Sounds…)
A rhetorical question addressed to everyone or
to himself
(What does music mean in the life of each of us?
Or:
Why does a person sing in moments of sadness or joy,
listening
music? How does she help?)

the problem of the purpose of art;
the role of music in human life.
the problem is formulated;
the problem is affected;
the issue is raised;
the problem is highlighted;
the problem is being discussed;
the problem considered by the author and others.

The author considers the problem (what? what?) using an example ...
Commenting on this problem, I would like to note ...
Considering this problem, the author draws attention
reader on...
There is no consensus in the literature on the
problem...
The problem (what? what?) is solved in different ways
researchers, but...
This is one of the most pressing issues...
Let's consider this problem in more detail.

Commentary on the formulated problem of the original text

COMMENT TO
FORMULATED PROBLEM
SOURCE TEXT
Comments should not be
retelling of the original text or any of its
parts;
discussions about all the problems
text;
comments about the actions of the heroes of the text;
general reasoning about the text, because you
comment on one of
problems!

HOW TO COMMENT THE PROBLEM?
Remember that the comment should be based on
read text. Specify the content of the comment
You can use the following questions:
How, on what material does the author reveal the problem?
What does it focus on?
What aspects of the problem are discussed in the text?
What emotions of the author are expressed in the text?
How is the attitude of the author to the depicted expressed?
What means of expression help to reveal the author's
attitude to the problem?
The comment is a logical transition from
formulation of the problem to the presentation of the author's position.
To distinguish a comment from a paraphrase, you need to remember
following: retelling, we are talking about what the characters do, and
commenting, we are talking about what the author is doing.

Commentary on the formulated
source text problem
Discussing the role of music in human life, the writer V.
Astafiev talks about the famous Dome Cathedral, about
sublime, divine sounding of the organ, which
makes a person forget about the bad, evil and separating
of people. Music unites all those gathered in the hall, enlightens
souls (“It is being cleansed, the soul is something ...”, “the whole world harbored
breath"). The text is built on oppositions: “wars,
blood, fratricide…” – “blessing”, “music”, “sun”.
The author admires music, its strength and beauty (actively
uses comparisons: sounds, “like incense smoke”, metaphors;
interrogative and exclamatory sentences. Astafiev
addresses the Dome Cathedral as if it were alive with the words
Thank you for this spiritual cleansing and enlightenment.

Mental turmoil, the absurdity of a vain life, petty
passions, everyday worries - all, all this remained in
another world...
It is cleansed, soul, and ... this ... our formidable
the world...is ready...to fall on its knees...to fall dry
mouth to the holy spring of good...
Everything is changing around.
thank you for happiness, for delight and faith in reason
human, ... I thank you for the miracle of the resurrection of faith in
life.
The author believes that music has a huge
force, it is able to excite the human
soul, change attitude to the world around.
"Emotional turmoil, the absurdity of a vain life,
petty passions, everyday worries - all, all this
left in a different place, in a different light ... ", etc.
The narrator is convinced that only music
save the world and each of us from
internal decay, will help better
understand yourself.

HOW TO REVEAL THE POSITION OF THE AUTHOR?
If the problem of the text is formulated as a question, then the position
the author is the answer to the question. In order to identify the position
author, try to answer the following questions:
did the author want to say when creating the text?”, “How does the author evaluate
the specific situation described, the actions of the characters?
The position of the author of a journalistic text is usually revealed
pretty simple. It is much more difficult to determine copyright
point of view in a literary text. And here comes to the rescue
good knowledge of visual and expressive means, so
how exactly through their analysis we can determine the relation
the author to his heroes, to the problem.

Reflection of the position of the author of the original text

POSITION REFLECTION
AUTHOR OF THE SOURCE TEXT
The author's position can be expressed
clearly, directly
directly
in the title of the text;
in selected
proposals
text;
across the row
arguments
via modal
text outline
rhetorical
questions;
rhetorical
exclamations;
word order;
lexical
repetitions;
evaluative vocabulary.

Do not attribute to the author thoughts that are not in the text !!!
Do not confuse the author of the text and the hero of the story!!!
What did the author want to say?
What was the purpose of his statement?
Why did he write this?
How does he approach the problem?
What does the text teach?
Positively
negative
Ambiguous
Dually
Skeptical
Ironically...
“One cannot but agree with the opinion of the author” - not a wording
author's opinions.

I agree (agree) with the opinion
the author is that...
The author is correct in that...
I agree with the position of the author and
I believe, that…
YOU CAN WRITE:
"It is impossible not to agree with
the author's point of view on
(specify the problem).
If you do not agree with the copyright
position, express your disagreement
very correct. For example, like this:
"With all due respect to
the author's point of view (or to
thoughts NN about ...), I still
let me express
own vision of
problems (or I'll try
refute his opinion).
and then repeat the position again
the author in other words.
Every argument is desirable
write from the red line, one of
the most successful methods of inclusion
arguments in the text of the essay
consider the use of introductory
words: firstly, secondly. But
can be argued without
introductory
words.
Do not advise
pass arguments using
construction with union because
What.

Let's give an example
Let's refer to an example
Let's take as an example
comparable
On the one side
None of us will mind
The clearest examples of this are…
In this part, you do not output anything new, but only
confirm what you said!
The goal is to explain and concretize the above
provisions.
The purpose of the argument is to show
relevance, importance of the problem, inviolability of the proven
axioms.

Victor Astafiev was born in a difficult time and experienced many difficulties prepared for him by fate. In early childhood, the future writer's mother died, and the father's new wife did not like the boy. For this reason, he remained on the street.

Victor Astafiev has become a great writer, both children and adults like his work. And, of course, the story "Dome Cathedral" occupies an honorable place in his work. The genre of this work is difficult to determine, since it combines several different genres, but it is still customary to define the genre of the work as an essay.

Because of the organ music that sounds in a hall with a lot of spectators, the hero has different associations. Analyzing this music, he compares its sounds with the sounds of nature. His whole life flashes through his mind: resentment, disappointment, loss, war. He remembers grief and loss. But this music has such incredible power that all bad memories leave his thoughts. The hero is amazed by the sounds of the organ and he wants to kneel before this delightful sound. Although the hall is crowded with people, the hero nevertheless feels lonely. A thought appears in his head: he wants everything to collapse, and only music sounds in the souls of people. The hero reflects on life, the human path, death and the role played by a tiny person in this vast world. He realizes that the Dome Cathedral is a house of gentle music, a place of calm and silence. The hero wholeheartedly thanks the cathedral and bows his soul to the great work of architecture.

Loneliness in the story appears in a positive way. Despite the fact that there are a lot of people in the hall, it seems to the hero that he is alone. And it is rather not loneliness, but solitude.

The story brings us to the idea that music can heal our spiritual wounds, helps us get away from oppressive memories and problems.

Picture or drawing Dome Cathedral

The taste of melted snow

Years ago ... many years, it seems, a century ago, I sat on the slope of the Urals, on the old clearings with a gun among the stumps and roots, listened and could not hear enough of the spring riotous chorus of birds, from which the sky swayed. The earth and everything on it froze, did not move, did not shake a single twig, marveling at that miracle, that holiday, which she herself was the creator of.
The morning flew by, the fogs subsided, the sun rose high, but the birds still did not let up, and among the stumps, roots and bushes everything hissed, everyone purred and belligerently jumped up the fluffy kosachs.
Having risen from the seat, I immediately fell down like a donkey - my legs went numb. I sat for many hours, from darkness to sun, and did not notice the time. And as soon as I took a step, from under my feet, with a crackling of wings, a scythe rolled like a black bomb, poked into a lonely birch and stared at me.
I fired. The kosach, hitting a branch, swirling a feather, rolled down, flapped under a birch, and as soon as I stretched out my hand to take the bird, I heard a small rash and clicks of rain overhead. I raised my head - the sky was clear, sunny, but in my face, thickening, drops fell and fell, licking my lips, I felt the taste of melted snow, a weak, tender sweetness on my lips and realized - this is juice, birch juice.
Falling down, the scythe knocked out a birch tree from the bosom, tore off a branch from the trunk, and shot through the white bark, and the tree immediately began to cry, often with tears, as if it had a premonition in its gut and skin that next spring with an airplane they would sprinkle powder on these endless clearings, this land, on which nature almost managed to heal wounds and give birth to animals, birds and various living creatures.
The hunter himself will walk in half-killed young thickets up to the ankles in a feather and cry, hearing how fragile bones crunch under his boots, and with confusion in his heart think about the future. Will birch sap splash in the face of our children and grandchildren, will they feel the foamy sweetness of melting clean snow on their lips, will they hear the birds singing, so much so that the sky even sways from it and the land is forgotten drunk, crazed from spring daring and revelry?

Melody

Variegated leaf. Red rosehip. Sparks of pecked viburnum in gray bushes. Yellow coniferous litter from larches. Black, bare land in the fields under the mountain. Why so soon?!

Line

Winter has come again. Cold. This line came to me on a warm summer night.

hello word

Cold. Windy. The end of spring, and you have to hide in the forest for a walk.
I'm going. I cough. I creak. Above me, deserted birch trees rustle, in no way giving birth to leaves, only hung with catkins and overshadowed by pinches of green buds. The mood is gloomy. Thinking about the end of the world.
But then a girl in a red jacket and a red hat is scratching on a tricycle towards us along the trampled path. Behind her, a mother pushes a stroller with a baby. - Come on, uncle! - shining with black eyes, the girl screams and scurries on.
"Hello, little one! Hello, my child!" - I want to shout to me, but I do not have time.
Mother in a blue cloak, tightly buttoned, - afraid of getting a cold in her chest, coming up with me, smiled wearily:
- She still all the people - brothers!
He looked around - a girl in an open red jacket was rushing along the spring birch forest, greeting everyone, rejoicing in everything.
How much does a person need? This made my heart feel lighter.

Notebook 2

How the goddess was treated

The Dome Cathedral

House... House... House...
Dome Cathedral, with a cockerel on a spire. Tall, stone, it sounds like over Riga.
The vaults of the cathedral are filled with organ singing. From the sky, from above, floats either a roar, or thunder, or the gentle voice of lovers, or the call of the vestals, or the roulades of a horn, or the sounds of a harpsichord, or the voice of a erratic stream ...
And again, with a formidable shaft of raging passions, everything is blown away, again the roar.
Sounds sway like incense smoke. They are thick and tangible. They are everywhere, and everything is filled with them: the soul, the earth, the world.
Everything froze, stopped.
Spiritual turmoil, the absurdity of a vain life, petty passions, everyday worries - all, all this remained in another place, in another light, in another life that was distant from me, there, somewhere there.
“Maybe everything that happened before was a dream? Wars, blood, fratricide, superhumans who play with human destinies in order to assert themselves over the world.
Why do we live so hard and hard on our land? For what? Why?"
House. House. House…
Blagovest. Music. The darkness is gone. The sun has risen. Everything is changing around.
There is no cathedral with electric candles, with ancient charms, with glasses, toy and candy depicting heavenly life. There is a world and I, subdued from reverence, ready to kneel before the greatness of the beautiful.
The hall is full of people, old and young, Russian and non-Russian, Party and non-Party, evil and good, vicious and bright, tired and enthusiastic, all sorts.
And no one is in the room!
There is only my subdued, disembodied soul, it oozes with incomprehensible pain and tears of quiet delight.
It is being cleansed, my soul, and it seems to me that the whole world held its breath, this bubbling, formidable world of ours began to think, ready to fall on its knees with me, to repent, to fall with a withered mouth to the holy spring of good ...
And suddenly, like a delusion, like a blow: and yet at that time somewhere they are aiming at this cathedral, at this great music ... with guns, bombs, rockets ...
It can't be! Must not be!
And if there is. If we are destined to die, burn, disappear, then let fate punish us now, even at this moment, for all our evil deeds and vices. If we fail to live freely, together, then at least our death will be free, and the soul will depart for another world lightened and bright.
We all live together. We die separately. It's been that way for centuries. So it was until this moment.
So let's go now, let's hurry, before there is fear. Don't turn people into animals before killing them. Let the vaults of the cathedral collapse, and instead of crying about the bloody, criminally built path, people will take away the music of a genius into their hearts, and not the bestial roar of a murderer.
The Dome Cathedral! The Dome Cathedral! Music! What have you done to me? You are still trembling under the vaults, you are still washing your soul, freezing your blood, illuminating everything around with light, knocking on armored breasts and diseased hearts, but a man in black is already coming out and bowing from above. A small man, trying to convince him that he did the miracle. A magician and a song-singer, nothingness and God, who controls everything: both life and death.
There is no handshake here. Here people cry from the tenderness that stunned them. Everyone cries for himself. But together they all cry about what is ending, a beautiful dream subsides, that magic is short-lived, deceptively sweet oblivion and endless torment.
The Dome Cathedral. The Dome Cathedral.
You are in my trembling heart. I bow my head before your singer, I thank you for the happiness, albeit a short one, for the delight and faith in the human mind, for the miracle created and sung by this mind, I thank you for the miracle of the resurrection of faith in life. Thank you for everything, for everything!

Cemetery

As the steamer passes the luxurious territory with houses, towers, a fence for bathers, with tenacious signs on the shore: “Forbidden Pioneer Camp Zone,” a cape becomes visible ahead at the confluence of the Chusovaya and Sylva rivers. It is washed away by water that rises in spring and falls in winter.
Opposite the cape, on the other side of the Sylva, dry poplars stand in the water.
Young and old poplars, all black and with broken branches. But on one, a birdhouse hangs upside down. Some poplars leaned over, others still hold on straight and look with fear into the water, which washes everything and washes away their roots, and the shore keeps creeping, creeping, and soon it will be twenty years later, when the homemade sea has overflowed, but there is still no real shore, everything collapses. Earth.
On a forgiven day, people come from the surrounding villages and from the brick factory, throw cereal into the water, crumble an egg, pinch bread.
Under the poplars, under the water is a cemetery.
When the Kama reservoir was filling up, there was a big assault. Many people and machines raked up the forest, houses, orphaned buildings and burned them. The fires were hundreds of miles away. At the same time, the dead were moved to the mountains.
This is a cemetery near the village of Lyady. Not far from here, in the village of Troitsa, once lived and worked a free, daring poet Vasily Kamensky.
At the Lyadovsky cemetery, work was also carried out before filling the self-made sea. Fast work. The builders dragged a dozen fresh dominoes up the hill, assured themselves of a certificate from the village council about the fulfillment of the obligation, they drank the magarych on the occasion of the successfully completed business and left. Cemetery poplars went under water, and graves - under water. Then a lot of bones turned white at the bottom. And there was a school of fish. Breams are big. Local residents did not catch fish and did not allow people to catch fish. They were afraid of sin.
And then dried poplars fell into the water. The first one to fall was the one who stood with the birdhouse, he was the oldest, the most bony and the most mournful.
A new cemetery was formed on the mountain. It has long been covered with grass. And there is not a single tree there, not even a single bush. And there is no fence. Polo around. The wind is coming from the reservoir. Grass stirs and whistles at night in crosses, in wooden and iron pyramids. Lazy cows and skinny goats in burdock graze here. They chew grass and chew fir wreaths from the graves. Among the graves, on the frail grass, knowing neither trepidation nor fear, a young shepherd lies and sleeps sweetly, blown by the breeze from the big water.
And they began to fish where the poplars had fallen. So far, ignorant people are fishing, but the locals will soon start.
It’s very cool in the evenings in steamy weather it takes bream in this place ...

Stars and Christmas trees

In the Nikolsky district, in the homeland of the late poet Yashin, I first saw stars nailed to the ends of the corners of rural huts, and I decided that it was the Timurov pioneers who decorated the village in honor of some holiday ...
We went into one hut to drink some water. She lived in that wooden hut, with low-slung rafters and narrow, one glass, cut through windows, a friendly woman, whose age could not be immediately determined - her face was so mournful and dark. But then she smiled: “Avon, how many suitors immediately fell on me! If only they would take me with them and get lost in the forest ... ”And we recognized in her a woman who had slightly exceeded the middle of the century, but was not crushed by life.
The woman joked fluently, brightened her face and, not knowing what to treat us with, kept offering pea fritters, and when she found out that we had never tasted such a concoction, she naturally presented us with dark pretzels, pouring them from a tin sheet onto the car seat, assuring us that with such a pretzel in a peasant is a strong spirit, and he is drawn to a sinful slaughter.
I never get tired of being amazed at how people, and especially women, and especially in the Vologda region, despite any hardships, preserve and carry their open, resilient soul through life. You will meet a Vologda peasant or a woman at the crossroads, ask about something, and they will smile at you and speak as if they have known you for a hundred years and you are the closest relative to them. And it really is relatives: after all, they were born on the same land, they mumbled some troubles. Only some of us began to forget about it.
Attuned to a cheerful wave, I cheerfully asked what kind of stars were on the corners of the hut, in honor of what kind of holiday?
And again the face of the old woman darkened, the laughter disappeared from her eyes, and her lips stretched into a strict string. Lowering her head, she answered muffledly, with enduring dignity and sorrow:
- Holiday?! God forbid anyone such a holiday ... Five did not return from the war: myself, three sons and brother-in-law ... - She looked at the stars, cut out of tin, painted with crimson student paint, wanted to add something else, but only suppressed sigh, closed the gate behind her, and from there, already from the yard, smoothing out the awkwardness made by me, she added: - Go with God. If you have nowhere to spend the night, turn to me, the hut is empty ...
"The hut is empty. The hut is empty ... ”- beat in my head, and I kept looking intently - in the village streets, stars flashed with red spots on dark corners, now singly, now in bulk, and I recalled the words read recently in military memoirs that in such hard war, probably, there is not a single family left in Russia that would not have lost someone ...
And how many unfinished and already aged huts in the Vologda region! Vologda residents loved to build capitally and beautifully. Houses were erected with mezzanines, decorated with carvings - wooden lace, a porch under the tower was made. Such painstaking work, it takes time, diligence and skill, and usually the owner of the house settled with his family in a warm, business-like, or something, half of the hut, where there was an entrance hall, a kut and a Russian stove, and finished the burner, mezzanine and so on leisurely, really so that it is always festive and light in the “clean” half.

Viktor Petrovich Astafiev, the author of the story "Domsky Cathedral", was born in troubled times and took a full sip of all the troubles and misfortunes that fate could only prepare for him. From an early age, life did not spoil him: first, his mother died, and Victor could not come to terms with it until the end of his life, later his father brought a new wife to the house, but she could not stand the boy. So he ended up on the street. Later, Viktor Petrovich will write in his biography that he began an independent life suddenly and without any preparation.

Master of literature and hero of his time

The literary life of V.P. Astafiev will be quite eventful, and his works will be loved by all readers, from the smallest to the most serious.

Astafiev's story "The Dome Cathedral" undoubtedly occupied one of the most honorable places in his literary biography, and even years later, it does not cease to find connoisseurs among the modern generation.

V. Astafiev, "Dome Cathedral": a summary

In a hall crowded with people, organ music sounds, from which the lyrical hero has various associations. He analyzes these sounds, compares them either with the high and sonorous sounds of nature, or with hissing and low peals of thunder. Suddenly, his whole life appears before his eyes - and the soul, and the earth, and the world. He recalls the war, pain, loss, and, amazed by the sound of the organ, he is ready to kneel before the greatness of the beautiful.

Despite the fact that the hall is full of people, the lyrical hero continues to feel lonely. Suddenly a thought flashes through his mind: he wants everything to collapse, all executioners, murderers, and music to sound in the souls of people.

He talks about human existence, about death, about the path of life, about the significance of a small person in this big world, and understands that the Dome Cathedral is a place where gentle music lives, where all applause and other exclamations are prohibited, that this is a house of peace and tranquility . The lyrical hero bows his soul before the cathedral and thanks him from the bottom of his heart.

Analysis of the work "Dome Cathedral"

Now let's take a closer look at the story that Astafiev wrote ("Dome Cathedral"). Analysis and comments on the story can be presented as follows.

From the first lines, the reader observes the author's admiration for the majestic work of architectural art - the Dome Cathedral. Viktor Petrovich had to visit this cathedral more than once, which soon came to his liking.
The very building of the Dome Cathedral, located in Riga, has survived to this day only partially. Made in the rococo style, the cathedral was built according to the project of foreign sculptors and architects, invited specifically for the construction of a new building that would sound for centuries and remain a wonderful reminder of the past to future generations.

But it was the organ with incredible acoustic power that made the cathedral a real attraction. Great virtuoso composers wrote their works especially for this majestic organ and gave concerts there, in the cathedral. Thanks to the assonances and dissonances that V.P. Astafiev skillfully uses at the beginning of the story, the reader can feel himself in his place. The melodies of the organ, compared with the peals of thunder and the roar of the waves, with the sounds of the harpsichord and the sonorous stream, reach us, it would seem, through space and time...

The writer tries to compare the sounds of the organ with his thoughts. He understands that all those terrible memories, pain, grief, worldly vanity and endless problems - all disappeared in an instant. The sound of the organ has such majestic power. This passage affirms the author's point of view that solitude with high, time-tested music can work wonders and heal spiritual wounds, and this is exactly what Astafiev wanted to say in his work. "Dome Cathedral" is rightfully one of his deepest philosophical works.

The image of loneliness and soul in the story

Loneliness is not a fact, but a state of mind. And if a person is lonely, then even in society he will continue to consider himself so. Organ music sounds through the lines of the work, and the lyrical hero suddenly realizes that all those people - evil, kind, old and young - they all disappeared. He feels only himself and no one else in the crowded hall...

And then, like a bolt from the blue, the hero is pierced by a thought: he understands that at this very moment someone may be trying to destroy this cathedral. Endless thoughts swarm in his head, and the soul, healed by the sounds of the organ, is ready to die overnight for this divine melody.

Music stopped sounding, but left an indelible imprint on the soul and heart of the author. He, being under the impression, analyzes every sound that has sounded and cannot help but simply say “thank you” to him.

The lyrical hero received healing from accumulated problems, grief and the killing bustle of the big city.

Genre "Dome Cathedral"

What else can be said about the story "The Dome Cathedral" (Astafiev)? The genre of the work is difficult to determine, because it contains the designations of several genres. "The Dome Cathedral" was written in the genre of an essay, reflecting the author's inner state, impressions from one life event. Victor Astafiev first published The Dome Cathedral in 1971. The story was included in the Zatesi cycle.

"Dome Cathedral": composition plan

The Dome Cathedral is the abode of music, silence and peace of mind.
Music-filled atmosphere that evokes many associations.
Only the sounds of music can touch the strings of the human soul so subtly and deeply.
Getting rid of the burden, mental heaviness and accumulated negativity under the influence of a wonderful medicine.
Gratitude of the lyrical hero for healing.

Finally

It is worth noting that the author, undoubtedly, has the ability to feel the music so much, to heal under its influence and to convey his inner state to the reader with subtle gentle words, not everyone can. Victor Astafiev as a phenomenon of our time deserves respect. And by all means, everyone should read the work of Viktor Astafiev "The Dome Cathedral".

Task 25. (1) House ... House ... House ...

(2) Dome Cathedral, with a cockerel on a spire. (3) Tall, stone, it sounds over Riga.

(4) Sounds sway like incense smoke. (5) They are thick, tangible. (6) They are everywhere, and everything is filled with them: the soul, the earth, the world.

(7) Everything froze, stopped.

(8) Mental turmoil, the absurdity of a vain life, petty passions, everyday worries - all this is left in another place, in another light, in another life that is far away from me, there, somewhere.

(9) Maybe everything that happened before was a dream? (10) War, blood, fratricide, superhumans playing with human destinies in order to assert themselves over the world.

(11) Why do we live so hard and hard on our land? (12) Why? (13) Why?

(14) House. House. House.

(15) Good News. (16) Music. (17) The darkness has disappeared. (18) The sun has risen. (19) Everything is changing around.

(20) The hall is full of people, old and young, Russian and non-Russian, evil and good, vicious and bright, tired and enthusiastic.

(21) And there is no one in the hall!

(22) There is only my subdued, incorporeal soul, it oozes incomprehensible pain and tears of quiet delight.

(23) She is being cleansed, the soul, and it seems to me, the whole world held its breath, this bubbling, formidable world of ours thought, ready to fall on its knees with me, to repent, to fall with a withered mouth to the holy spring of good ...

(24) Dome Cathedral! (25) Dome Cathedral! (26) Music! (27) What did you do to me? (28) You are still trembling under the arches, still washing your soul, freezing your blood, illuminating everything around with light, knocking on armored breasts and sick hearts, but a man in black is already coming out and bowing from above. (29) A little man, trying to assure that he created a miracle. (30) A magician and a song-singer, a nonentity and a god, to whom everything is subject: both life and death.

(31) Dome Cathedral. (32) Dome Cathedral.

(33) They don't applaud here. (34) Here people cry from tenderness that has stunned them. (35) Everyone cries about his own. (36) But together everyone is crying about what is ending, a beautiful dream subsides, which is short-lived magic, deceptively sweet oblivion and endless torment.

(37) Dome Cathedral. (38) Dome Cathedral.

(39) You are in my trembling heart. (40) I bow my head before your singer, I thank you for happiness, albeit brief, for the delight and faith in the human mind, for the miracle created and sung by this mind, I thank you for the miracle of the resurrection of faith in life. (41) 3a everything, thank you for everything!

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Music occupies a special place in the life of every person. It is amazing how the notes, the instrument and the musician's talent can have a beneficial effect on the human soul, make us rethink what, it would seem, we regard as immutable truths. This is a special kind of art, the power of influence of which could hardly be compared with anything. So what is the role of music in human life? It is this problem that Viktor Petrovich Astafiev raises in the proposed passage.

The author is in the Riga Dome Church, he is fascinated by the music that, "like incense smoke", is in the air. Viktor Petrovich notes that at this time for him there is no thing that worries us in everyday life. All this is there, outside the walls of the church, where there are no these magical motives. Rhetorical questions overwhelm him, making you think about the cruelty of man, the futility of wars, blood and fratricide. The hall is full and empty. Antithesis helps abstract from the human form, because now in the church there is only a “subdued, incorporeal soul” and music. The world, and together with him Viktor Petrovich, are ready to "fall on their knees, repent, drop their withered mouth to the holy spring of goodness." The author uses an extended metaphor to show how music affects a sinful person.