But it seems to me that I love. Prince Silver (collection) (A

Count Alexei Konstantinovich Tolstoy (1817–1875) would have remained in the history of Russian poetry and literature thanks to the lyrical masterpiece Amid the Noisy Ball…. But he created the mighty historical canvas "Prince of Silver", the famous dramatic trilogy about the Russian tsars, the unfading satire "The History of the Russian State ...", topical to this day. His contribution to the works of the notorious Kozma Prutkov is invaluable. The noble talent of A.K. Tolstoy, his work still remain a living literary phenomenon.

Amid a noisy ball

… I have so many contradictory characteristics that come into conflict, so many desires, so many needs of the heart that I try to reconcile, but as soon as I touch it slightly, it all starts to move, enters into a struggle; I expect from you harmony and reconciliation of all these needs. I feel that no one but you can heal me, for my whole being is torn to pieces. I sewed up and corrected all this as best I could, but a lot still needs to be redone, changed, healed. I do not live in my own environment, I do not follow my vocation, I do not do what I want, there is complete discord in me, and this, perhaps, is the secret of my laziness, because I am, in essence, active by nature ... Those elements, of which my being was composed, they themselves are good, but they were taken at random and the proportions were not observed. There is no ballast in my soul or in my mind. You must restore my balance ... In your diary I found the following lines: "To achieve the truth, once in a lifetime, you must free yourself from all acquired views and rebuild the entire system of your knowledge." With what joy, with your help, I have worked on this restructuring. I am like some shed or a vast room full of all sorts of things, very useful, sometimes very precious, but somehow piled on top of one another; with you I would like to sort it out and put things in order.

… I try to be interested in opera and other things, but as soon as I forget for a moment, I immediately plunge into nothingness. I swear to you, as I would swear before the judgment seat of the Lord, that I love you with all my abilities, with all my thoughts, with all my movements, with all the sufferings and joys of my soul. Accept this love for what it is, do not look for a reason for it, do not look for a name for it, as a doctor looks for a name for a disease, do not define a place for it, do not analyze it. Take it as it is, take it without delving into it, I cannot give you anything better, I gave you everything that I had the most precious, I have nothing better ... You tell me that I cannot always love you like that. I know this myself; this is not news, it is in the order of things that such enthusiastic excitement passes: this is how it is and how it should be. The flower disappears, but the fruit remains, the plant remains; believe me, what remains will still be beautiful enough ... We know that love is not an eternal feeling. But should it scare us? Let us go boldly towards us, without looking ahead and without looking back, or it is better to look ahead, we will meet face to face a meek brotherly friendship stretching out its hands to us, and bless God for sending it to us ... I am much more you than - myself.

… There are such torments and such desires that cannot be expressed in words; every word seems dead to me, everything I could say seems too weak to me. My friend, my heart is hard, I came from a masquerade ball, where I was not out of my desire, but only out of decency - for the sake of the Grand Duke whom I saw this morning. I left at half past eleven. To return as soon as I see the Grand Duke. And he just invited me to dine with him at half past one; I drove home in a hurry to talk with you in this interval.

How sad I was there! Never go to those nasty masquerade balls!

I would so much like to refresh your poor heart, so I would like to give you a rest from your whole life! Poor child, since you were thrown into life, you have known only storms and thunderstorms. Even in the best moments, when we were together, you were worried about some kind of persistent concern, some premonition, some kind of apprehension.

When I think about it, I see a house half-hidden by trees. You can see the village, hear the sounds of your piano and this voice, from which I immediately started up. And everything that opposes this life, calm and blissful, all the commotion of light, ambition, vanity and so on, all the artificial means necessary to maintain this unnatural existence to the detriment of conscience, all this appears in front of me in the distance, as if in an unkind fog. And I seem to hear your voice penetrating into my soul: "I forever refuse this for the sake of love for you." And then a feeling of undivided happiness takes possession of me, and the words spoken by you sound and echo in my soul, as an assurance that from now on nothing can harm you, and I understand then that all this happiness created by a dream, this house, this a blissful and calm life, all this is in ourselves. It's your heart that sings with happiness, and mine listens to it, and since all this is in ourselves, then it cannot be taken away from us, and even among the bustle of the world we can be alone and be happy. My character is with anguish, he is sensitive to the slightest touch, but there is no pettiness in him - I give you my word ...

From A. K. Tolstoy's letter to S. A. Miller

... Think that until the age of 36 I had no one to confide in my grief. There is no one to pour out my soul. All that saddened me - and this happened often, although unnoticed by prying eyes - all that I would like to find a response in the mind, in the heart of a friend, I suppressed in myself, and while my uncle was alive, the trust that I had in him was fettered by the fear of upsetting him, at times - irritating him and with the confidence that he would rebel with all ardor against some of the ideas and some aspirations that made up the essence of my mental and spiritual life. I remember how I hid from him reading some of the books from which I then drew my puritanical principles, for the same source contained those principles of love of freedom and the Protestant spirit, with which he would never reconcile and from which I did not want and could not refuse. This led to a constant awkwardness, despite the tremendous trust I had in him.

From A. K. Tolstoy's letter to S. A. Miller

... He (I. S. Turgenev) also told how, at a masquerade, together with the poet A. K. Tolstoy, he met a graceful and interesting mask that intelligently spoke to them. They insisted that she take off her mask at the same time, but she opened up to them only a few days later, inviting them to her.

- What did I see then? - said Turgenev. - The face of a Chukhon soldier in a skirt.

This mask later married A.K. Tolstoy. His poem "Amid the Noisy Ball" is inspired by this first acquaintance with his future wife. I think that Turgenev exaggerated her ugliness. Later I met Countess Sophia Andreevna, the widow of A. K. Tolstoy, she was not at all ugly and, moreover, she was undoubtedly an intelligent woman.

S. L. Tolstoy

... Tolstoy and Sofa (the name "Sofa" was called the wife of AK Tolstoy Sofya Andreevna) were for me an unattainable ideal of kindness, everything emanated from them for me, they gave me answers to all my doubts and aspirations; I realized that I not only love, but also fear them, and at the same time I put in them all my trust, all my heart, all my ideals, apart from them nothing could exist for me. Sometimes Tolstoy's character, nervous and hot-tempered, frightened me, but the confidence in his friendship and love for me was unshakable. I always felt sorry for Sofa, she always carried a burden that was too heavy ... But as soon as Sofa shrugged off the influx of daily squabbles with a word and illuminated his disturbed soul with her all-understanding mind, he returned with young, pure strength. Suffering, evil, pain, sorrow had no power over the vigor and purity of his spirit ...

S. P. Khitrovo

... All the stories show that with early years The sofa was smart and developed beyond her years and always stood out from others in intelligence and charm. - When she was five years old, my grandmother took all her children to the Sarov Monastery for a blessing to Father Seraphim, and when he baptized them all and blessed them, he knelt down in front of the baby Sophia and kissed her feet, predicting her amazing future. - We, children, saw and understood that everyone in the house adores Sofa and that she is always, everywhere and for everyone the first person, and we blindly believed that there is no better person in the world, and so, all my life, she stood more radiant for us and above all. Our love for her was very special, and no matter what she said, everything was good and unshakable. - My father, like others, treated her with some reverence, almost enthusiastic, and in the name of his feelings for her he called me and my sister Sophia and said that if he had twelve daughters, everyone would be Sophia.

S. P. Khitrovo

... Count Tolstoy was gifted with an exceptional memory. We often joked each other's memory, and Alexei Tolstoy amazed us by the fact that after a cursory reading of a whole large page of any prose, closing the book, he could literally convey everything he had read without one mistake; none of us, of course, could do that.

The Count's eyes are azure, a youthful fresh face, an oblong oval face, a light fluff of a beard and mustache, blond hair curling at the temples - nobility and artistry.

By the width of the shoulders and by the musculature, it was impossible not to notice that the model did not belong to the number of pampered and weak young people. Indeed, Aleksey Tolstoy was of extraordinary strength: he bent the horseshoes, and, by the way, I kept a silver fork for a long time, from which he twisted not only the handle, but also each tooth separately with a screw with his fingers.

A. V. Meshchersky

In the middle of a noisy ball, by chance,

In the alarm of worldly vanity,

I saw you, but a mystery

Your features were covered.

Like the ringing of a distant pipe,

Like a playing shaft of the sea.

I liked your waist thin

And all your brooding look

And your laugh, both sad and sonorous,

Since then, it sounds in my heart.

In the hours of lonely nights

I love, tired, to lie down -

I see sad eyes

I hear cheerful speech;

And sadly I fall asleep

And in the dreams of the unknown I sleep ...

Do I love you - I don't know

But it seems to me that I love!

... Count Tolstoy was at that time (1843) a handsome young man, with fine blond hair and a blush all over his cheek. He looked even more like a red maiden than Prince Baryatinsky; to such an extent tenderness and delicacy penetrated his entire figure. One can imagine my amazement when the prince once said to me: "You know - this is the greatest strongman!" At this news, I could not help smiling in the most incredulous, not to say in a contemptuous way; himself, belonging to the breed strong people Having seen many real strongmen in his lifetime, I immediately thought that Count Tolstoy, this ruddy and gentle youth, was an aristocratic strongman and amazed his circle with some kind of gymnastic tricks. Noticing my distrust, the prince began to tell many real experiments of Tolstoy's strength: how he rolled silver spoons into a tube, drove nails into the wall with his finger, and unbend horseshoes. I didn't know what to think. Subsequently, the reviews of many others have positively confirmed that this delicate shell hides the real Hercules. At the same time, the prince told me that Tolstoy was a family man with the heir and came to him without a report.

V. A. Insarsky

… His story (DV Grigorovich) about Countess Tolstoy, wife of Count Alexei Konstantinovich Tolstoy (poet) is curious. She is nee Bakhmetyeva. Neighbors with Grigorovich. Lived. Her mother tried not only to sell her, but to sell her. It didn't work out. She met Prince Vyazemsky, he made her a child. Her brother challenged the prince to a duel. But thanks to Vyazemsky, the duel did not take place: he arranged with the help of connections so that Bakhmetyev was exiled to the Caucasus. Returning from there, he wrote a letter to Prince Vyazemsky: if he did not come to fight him, he would publicly insult him. Prince Vyazemsky came and killed him in a duel, for which he was in the fortress. His sister married Miller, who was passionately in love with her, but she could not stand him and soon left. She traveled with Grigorovich and got along with him. When Grigorovich returned to the Bakhmetyevs, he found Mrs. Miller lying, weak. At her feet sat Count Alexei Konstantinovich Tolstoy, passionately in love with her. He came with Al. Al. Tatishchev. “I didn't want to interfere,” says Dmitry Vasilyevich, “and we parted.”

A. Suvorin. "Diary"

With a gun over his shoulder, alone, by the moon,

I am riding a good horse across the field.

I dropped the reins, I think about her,

Go, my horse, more fun on the grass!

I think so quietly, so sweetly, but now

An unknown companion sticks to me

He is dressed like me on the same horse,

The gun shines behind his shoulders in the moonlight.

“You, satellite, tell me, tell me, who are you?

Your features seem to be familiar to me.

Tell me, what brought you to this hour?

Why are you laughing so bitterly and evil? "

“I laugh, comrade, at your dreams,

I laugh that you are ruining the future;

… From all the stories it is clear that from an early age Sofa was intelligent and developed beyond her years and always stood out from others for her intelligence and charm. - When she was five years old, my grandmother took all her children to the Sarov Monastery for a blessing to Father Seraphim, and when he baptized them all and blessed them, he knelt down in front of the baby Sophia and kissed her feet, predicting her amazing future. - We, children, saw and understood that everyone in the house adores Sofa and that she is always, everywhere and for everyone the first person, and we blindly believed that there is no better person in the world, and so, all my life, she stood for us more radiant and above all. Our love for her was very special, and no matter what she said, everything was good and unshakable. - My father, like others, treated her with some reverence, almost enthusiastically, and in the name of his feelings for her he called me and my sister Sophia and said that if he had twelve daughters, everyone would be Sophia.

S. P. Khitrovo

The Count's eyes are azure, a youthful fresh face, an oblong oval face, a light fluff of a beard and mustache, blond hair curling at the temples - nobility and artistry.

In the middle of a noisy ball, by chance,

In the alarm of worldly vanity,

I saw you, but a mystery

Your features were covered.

Like the ringing of a distant pipe,

Like a playing shaft of the sea.

I liked your waist thin

And all your brooding look

And your laugh, both sad and sonorous,

Since then, it sounds in my heart.

In the hours of lonely nights

I love, tired, to lie down -

I see sad eyes

I hear cheerful speech;

And sadly I fall asleep

And in the dreams of the unknown I sleep ...

Do I love you - I don't know

But it seems to me that I love!

... Count Tolstoy was at that time (1843) a handsome young man, with fine blond hair and a blush all over his cheek. He looked even more like a red maiden than Prince Baryatinsky; to such an extent tenderness and delicacy penetrated his entire figure. One can imagine my amazement when the prince once said to me: "You know - this is the greatest strongman!" At this news, I could not help smiling in the most incredulous, not to say in a contemptuous way; myself, belonging to the breed of strong people, having seen many real strongmen in his lifetime, I immediately thought that Count Tolstoy, this ruddy and gentle young man, was an aristocratic strongman and amazed his circle with some gymnastic tricks. Noticing my distrust, the prince began to tell many real experiments of Tolstoy's strength: how he rolled silver spoons into a tube, drove nails into the wall with his finger, and unbend horseshoes. I didn't know what to think. Subsequently, the reviews of many others have positively confirmed that this delicate shell hides the real Hercules. At the same time, the prince told me that Tolstoy was a family man with the heir and came to him without a report.

With a gun over his shoulder, alone, by the moon,

I am riding a good horse across the field.

I dropped the reins, I think about her,

Go, my horse, more fun on the grass!

1851

AK Tolstoy's letters to Sofya Andreevna Miller have been translated from French.

* * *

1851

How sad I was there! Never go to those nasty masquerade balls!

I would so much like to refresh your poor heart, so I would like to give you a rest from your whole life! Poor child, since you were thrown into life, you have known only storms and thunderstorms We are talking about the difficult experiences of Sofya Andreevna before her meeting with Tolstoy: an affair with the book. Vyazemsky, because of which her brother was killed in a duel with the prince, then an unsuccessful marriage with the Horse Guards Colonel L. F. Miller.... Even in the best moments, when we were together, you were worried about some kind of persistent concern, some premonition, some kind of apprehension.

When I think about it, I see a house half-hidden by trees. You can see the village, hear the sounds of your piano and this voice, from which I immediately started up. And everything that opposes this life, calm and blissful, all the commotion of light, ambition, vanity and so on, all the artificial means necessary to maintain this unnatural existence to the detriment of conscience, all this appears in front of me in the distance, as if in an unkind fog. And I seem to hear your voice penetrating into my soul: "I forever refuse this for the sake of love for you." And then a feeling of undivided happiness takes possession of me, and the words spoken by you sound and echo in my soul, as an assurance that from now on nothing can harm you, and I understand then that all this happiness created by a dream, this house, this a blissful and calm life, all this is in ourselves. It's your heart that sings with happiness, and mine listens to it, and since all this is in ourselves, then it cannot be taken away from us, and even among the bustle of the world we can be alone and be happy. My character is with anguish, he is sensitive to the slightest touch, but there is no pettiness in him - I give you my word ...

From A. K. Tolstoy's letter to S. A. Miller

* * *

... Think that until the age of 36 I had no one to confide in my grief. There is no one to pour out my soul. All that saddened me - and it happened often, although unnoticed by prying eyes - all that I would like to find a response in the mind, in the heart of a friend, I suppressed in myself, but for now my uncle A. A. Perovsky (1787 - 1836), brother of A. K. Tolstoy's mother, prose writer (pseudonym - Anthony Pogorelsky). Author of the fairy tale "Black Chicken", dedicated to the boy Alyosha Tolstoy. was alive, the trust that I had in him was fettered by the fear of upsetting him, sometimes irritating him and the confidence that he would rebel with all ardor against some of the ideas and some aspirations that made up the essence of my mental and spiritual life. I remember how I hid from him reading some books, from which I then drew my Puritan principles, for in the same source there were also those principles of love of freedom and the Protestant spirit, with which he would never be reconciled and from which I did not want and could not refuse. This led to a constant awkwardness, despite the tremendous trust I had in him.

From A. K. Tolstoy's letter to S. A. Miller

* * *

- What did I see then? - said Turgenev. - The face of a Chukhon soldier in a skirt.

S. L. Tolstoy S. L. Tolstoy is the son of L. N. Tolstoy.

* * *

S. P. Khitrovo S. P. Khitrovo is S. A. Tolstoy's niece.

* * *

S. P. Khitrovo

* * *

The Count's eyes are azure, a youthful fresh face, an oblong oval face, a light fluff of a beard and mustache, blond hair curling at the temples - nobility and artistry.

A. V. Meshchersky A. V. Meshchersky (1822 - 1900) - memoirist, poet, public figure. A friend of A. K. Tolstoy.

* * *

In the middle of a noisy ball, by chance,

In the alarm of worldly vanity,

I saw you, but a mystery

Your features were covered.

Like the ringing of a distant pipe,

Like a playing shaft of the sea.

I liked your waist thin

And all your brooding look

And your laugh, both sad and sonorous,

Since then, it sounds in my heart.

In the hours of lonely nights

I love, tired, to lie down -

I see sad eyes

I hear cheerful speech;

And sadly I fall asleep

And in the dreams of the unknown I sleep ...

Do I love you - I don't know

But it seems to me that I love!

1851

* * *

... Count Tolstoy was at that time (1843) a handsome young man, with fine blond hair and a blush all over his cheek. He looked even more like a red maiden than Prince Baryatinsky; to such an extent tenderness and delicacy penetrated his entire figure. One can imagine my amazement when the prince once said to me: "You know - this is the greatest strongman!" At this news, I could not help smiling in the most incredulous, not to say in a contemptuous way; myself, belonging to the breed of strong people, having seen many real strongmen in his lifetime, I immediately thought that Count Tolstoy, this ruddy and gentle young man, was an aristocratic strongman and amazed his circle with some gymnastic tricks. Noticing my distrust, the prince began to tell many real experiments of Tolstoy's strength: how he rolled silver spoons into a tube, drove nails into the wall with his finger, and unbend horseshoes. I didn't know what to think. Subsequently, the reviews of many others have positively confirmed that this delicate shell hides the real Hercules. At the same time, the prince told me that Tolstoy was a family man with the heir and came to him without a report.

V. A. Insarsky V. A. Insarsky (1814 - 1882) - memoirist.

* * *

A. Suvorin. "Diary" A.S.Suvorin (1834 - 1912) - publisher, memoirist.

* * *

With a gun over his shoulder, alone, by the moon,

I am riding a good horse across the field.

I dropped the reins, I think about her,

Go, my horse, more fun on the grass!

I think so quietly, so sweetly, but now

An unknown companion sticks to me

He is dressed like me on the same horse,

The gun shines behind his shoulders in the moonlight.

“You, satellite, tell me, tell me, who are you?

Your features seem to be familiar to me.

Tell me, what brought you to this hour?

Why are you laughing so bitterly and evil? "

A. K. Tolstoy is a famous Russian poet who, in his work, more than once touched upon the theme of love and passionate longing. His lyrics are rich and multifaceted, and his poems are known for their sensuality and romance. In this article, you can read the analysis of the poem "Amid a noisy ball, by chance."

The history of the creation of the work

Alexey Tolstoy was never a ladies' man and womanizer, but he was involved in one compromising relationship. He meets Sophia Miller at a social reception and falls in love with her without memory.

Moreover, the poet was first of all struck not by the beauty, but by the brilliant mind and erudition of the lady. Unfortunately, Sophia turns out to be the officer's wife.

A short acquaintance with an extraordinary lady leads to the early writing of the poem "Amid the Noisy Ball". In it, Tolstoy conveys his impressions of his acquaintance with Sophia Miller. He was struck by the woman's behavior: at the ball she behaved separately, as if she were above the bustle of the world, and her face bore an imprint of sadness. Perhaps this is a trace of an unhappy marriage? At that time, the poet did not know about the shameful secret she carefully kept. In her youth, Sophia was in love with Prince Vyazemsky and was seduced by him, but the womanizer married a richer girl. Sophia's brother challenges the offender to a duel and dies. And Sophia carries this burden all her life in her heart. An analysis of the poem "Amid the Noisy Ball, Accidentally" cannot be composed without these facts. Indeed, at the time of writing it, the poet idealizes Sophia.

Poem theme

The work undoubtedly belongs to the love lyrics. He can be called one of the best in the work of A. K. Tolstoy. In it, he fully reveals his soul. All lines are permeated with the light image of the chosen one, the purity of the moment of their meeting, the deep feelings that the poet experienced at the fatal ball.

Researchers of poetry notice the similarity of this poem with some other works of Russian poets. An analysis of A. Tolstoy's poem "Amid the Noisy Ball" allows us to see this. Tolstoy's verse is especially similar to Pushkin's “I remember a wonderful moment”. Their theme is the same - at the ball the hero sees a charming stranger and falls in love without memory. There is even a clear overlap in the lines. A parallel can be drawn with the poem by M. Yu. Lermontov "From under the mysterious, cold half-mask."

"Amid a noisy ball, by accident", A. Tolstoy: composition of a poem

The composition of the work is simple: it consists of two semantic parts. At first they may seem scattered, but this is far from the case. There is a fairly strong connection between the parts of the verse. In the first part of the poem, the reader sees the ball, feels the feelings of the poet at this social event. It also describes the first impression of the lyrical hero from his beloved lady.

The second part of the work takes the reader from the noisy ball into the depths of the hero's thoughts. We see his mental anguish, experiences and insights. Tolstoy transfers the turning point of his life to “Amid a noisy ball, by accident”. Analysis of the poem allows you to look into its inner world... Tolstoy does not hide his feelings, he opens his heart to his readers.

By the way, in the composition of the verse, you can identify the outset. It is associated with the past life of the lyric hero. The past, like the present, is described vaguely.

Expressive means used by the author

The hero of the work is presented by the author from different sides, while using a fairly simple syllable and expressive means... Contrasts are most clearly presented here. With the help of contrasts, the author shows the full depth of the hero's feelings. To emphasize the peculiarities of his chosen one, A. Tolstoy uses contradictory phrases such as "sad laughter", "anxiety of worldly vanity." Emphasizes the lyricism and soulfulness of the work and its melodious smooth sounding. An analysis of the poem "Amid the Noisy Ball, Accidentally" reveals the use of cross rhyming here. She gives the poem an organic sound.

The figurativeness of the work

The imagery of the verse cannot be called original and distinctive, but Tolstoy so skillfully uses artistic means expressiveness that it is not striking. The author uses in his lines complex sentences, they emphasize the depth of his thought. An analysis of the poem "Amid the Noisy Ball, Accidentally" reveals the main image of the work - the image of Sophia Miller (of course, not named here). Her image is full of concretization.

It is real - without the bright details inherent in romantic images. The author pays special attention to the eyes and laughter of a mysterious beloved. At the ball, he did not see her face, noticing only the look behind the mask.

Fate turned out to be favorable to the heroes, they met again. Sophia Miller admitted that she does not love her husband and dreams of a divorce. Then Tolstoy handed her the manuscript "Amid a noisy ball, by accident." The analysis of the poem made it possible to understand what feelings captivated the poet's soul. Having been in a forbidden love relationship for seven years, Tolstoy and Miller still get married.

"MIDDLE NOISY BALL, BY RANDOM ..."

At the beginning of 1851, Alexei Tolstoy was already thirty-three years old. He believed that he lived them badly, but no one knew his painful thoughts. Intelligence and upbringing endowed him with a simple demeanor, but this aristocratic simplicity had its own complexity, which excluded any frankness. He hid in wit as if in a shell - it was a visible part of his quest. Tolstoy knew to himself that he was an artist, but the feeling of his own talent only aggravated repentance - instead of creativity, he was slipped into vanity, and he was not strong enough to reject the unnecessary and take on the main thing ...

However, like all true artists, he exaggerated his own vanity. Loafers do not notice wasted time. For workers, every day not devoted to work seems almost a disaster. They torment themselves, reproach themselves for laziness precisely on such days, forgetting about the months that have flashed because they have no time to think about outsiders. And the seeming idleness of the artist is the time of maturation of fruitful thought.

Tolstoy was a worker.

Anna Alekseevna Tolstaya was still jealous of her son. She thought with horror of his marriage, the very word "wife" was a challenge to Anna Alekseevna's selfish selflessness and foreshadowed, as it seemed to her, catastrophic changes in filial affection and love. She invented diseases that required long-term treatment abroad and the indispensable presence and care of her son. She resorted to the help of her omnipotent brothers, who summoned Alexei to themselves for urgent family matters or sent him on business trips of state importance. And there ... he was dispelled, and he was forgotten. So it was with the Countess Clary, who flashed through her memories, and Tolstoy's other hobbies.

In winter, in January, on that, perhaps, the very evening when "Fantasy" was playing in Alexandrinka, Alexei Tolstoy, on duty as court service, accompanied the heir to the throne to a masquerade ball, which was given at the Bolshoi Theater. The future emperor Alexander II loved such entertainments, he was burdened by his smart and quiet wife and openly dragged himself after women, not neglecting casual acquaintances in public places.

At the ball, Alexei Tolstoy met a stranger who had a juicy contralto, an intriguing way of talking, lush hair and a beautiful figure. She refused to take off her mask, but took his business card, promising to let him know about herself.

Returning home, Alexey Konstantinovich, out of his deep-rooted habit of working at night, tried to sit down at the table and continue a long-begun romance or edit poetry, but he could not concentrate, he kept walking from corner to corner in the office and thinking about the stranger. Tired of walking, he lay down on the sofa and continued to dream. No, it was not a youthful trembling feeling that attracted him to the mask ... It seemed to him, spoiled by female affection, that from the very first words they could speak freely with this woman, she would understand everything he said, and it would be interesting for her not because he, Alexei Tolstoy, trying it is interesting to speak, but because she is clever and with her whole manner of sadly looking, smiling, talking, listening makes him not relaxed in a secular way, but inspired in a human way. This, together with the sensuality that she could not but awaken, excited him deeply, promising more than just pleasure ...

Perhaps that night he found the words of a poem to describe his nascent feeling, which from now on will always inspire composers and lovers.

Amid a noisy ball, by chance,

In the alarm of worldly vanity,

I saw you, but a mystery

Your features were covered;

Like the ringing of a distant pipe,

Like a playing shaft of the sea.

I liked your waist thin

And all your brooding look

And your laugh, both sad and sonorous,

Since then, it sounds in my heart.

In the hours of lonely nights

I love, tired, to lie down;

I see sad eyes

I hear a cheerful speech

And sadly I fall asleep

And in the dreams of the unknown I sleep ...

Do I love you, I don't know -

But it seems to me that I love!

You won't escape me this time! - said Alexey Tolstoy a few days later, entering the living room of Sofia Andreyevna Miller. She decided to continue the ballroom acquaintance and sent him an invitation.

Now he could see her face. Sofya Andreevna was not pretty and at first glance she could attract attention unless she was wearing a mask. Tall, slender, with a thin waist, with thick ash hair, white-toothed, she was very feminine, but her face was ruined by a high forehead, wide cheekbones, indistinct outlines of a nose, a strong-willed chin. However, looking closer, the men admired the full fresh lips and narrow gray eyes that glowed with intelligence.

Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev talked about her in the family of Leo Tolstoy and assured him that it was as if he was with Alexei Konstantinovich at a masquerade and that together they got acquainted with “a graceful and interesting mask that spoke intelligently to them. They insisted that she take off the mask, but she only opened up to them after a few days, inviting them to her. "

What did I see then? - said Turgenev. - The face of a Chukhon soldier in a skirt.

“I later met Countess Sofya Andreevna, the widow of A.K. Tolstoy, - adds S.L. Tolstoy, - she was not at all ugly, and besides, she was undoubtedly an intelligent woman. "

The story that Turgenev was with Tolstoy at the memorable masquerade ball is questionable. Most likely, Aleksey Tolstoy himself introduced Turgenev to Sofya Andreevna a little later, and this was accompanied by some very awkward circumstance that left Ivan Sergeevich with an unpleasant aftertaste, forcing him to curse behind his eyes, and to make excuses in letters to Sofya Andreevna ...

The opinions of contemporaries about Sofya Andreevna were the most controversial. To begin with, the same Turgenev always sent her one of the first his new works and was looking forward to her trial. The caricatured description of her appearance many years later could be the result of wounded pride. He, like Alexei Tolstoy, was under the charm of this woman, but their relationship remains unclear.

You won't escape me this time! - repeated Alexey Tolstoy, who again heard her extraordinary vibrating voice, which was said to be remembered forever. And they also spoke of her as a sweet, very developed, very well-read woman, distinguished by some conceit, which, however, had so many excuses that they readily forgave her.

She loved serious music. “Sofya Andreevna sang really like an angel,” recalled one of her contemporaries, “and I understand that having listened to her for several evenings in a row, one could madly fall in love with her, and not only the count's crown, but the royal crown to put on a brisk head.”

No, a woman who was well versed in literature, capable of picking up a volume of Gogol and flawlessly translating the most difficult passages into French from one sheet of paper, knowing, according to some information, fourteen, and according to others - sixteen languages, including Sanskrit, could not but make a deep impression on count, whose knowledge was unusually wide and deep.

What they talked about during this meeting, one can only guess, but now not a day passed without them meeting, not writing letters to each other, touching mainly on literature, art, philosophy, mysticism.

Sofya Andreevna, nee Bakhmeteva, was the wife of a horse guard, captain Lev Fedorovich Miller. Tolstoy met this owner of a luxurious wheat mustache and an ordinary appearance in music salons. Now he knew that Sofya Andreevna did not live with her husband, but he was wary of asking what had led them to break up. He accepted this woman with a cheerful speech and sad eyes as she was, treasured every minute of intimacy with her, and they became close very quickly, because Sofya Andreevna wanted it. He was one of those strong but insecure men whom smart women choose themselves, leaving them in the dark about this choice, not letting insecurity and doubts prevail over the first impulse.

Very soon she paid him a return visit, and already on January 15, Tolstoy sent Sophia Andreevna poems:

Empty in my peace. Alone I sit by the fireplace

I put out the candles long ago, but I cannot sleep,

Pale shadows tremble on the wall, on the carpet, in the paintings,

Books are on the floor, letters I see all around.

Books and letters! How long has a young pen touched you?

Have gray eyes been running around you for a long time, joking? ..

But to the poetic declaration of love, he adds: “This is only to remind you of the Greek style for which you have affection. However, what I am telling you in verse, I could repeat to you in prose, since this is pure truth. "

He read her "Yambas" and excerpts from the poem "Hermes" by Henri Chénier, idylls and elegies, imbued with the spirit of the classics, and now he sent Sofya Andreevna a volume of his poems, a rare edition compiled by the poet Latush in 1819 and dear to what he got inherited from Alexei Perovsky. Tolstoy was also attracted by the personality of the half-Greek, half-French Chenier, who was all in the freedom-loving ideas of the 18th century, but did not accept the Jacobin terror, declaring openly: "It is good, honest, sweet for the sake of strict truths to be subjected to the hatred of shameless despots who tyrannize freedom in the name of freedom itself" and ending his life at thirty-two under the knife of the guillotine, two days before the fall of Robespierre. Contradictions French revolution forced Tolstoy to persistently reflect on the fate of artists in the era of political shifts. After all, Chenier, like Tolstoy, had a "ray of light ahead." The lack of fulfillment of his own intentions worried Tolstoy every time he remembered how Chenier, ascending the scaffold, hit himself on the forehead and said: "But still I had something there!"

From lofty thoughts, he descended to an expression of the most ordinary jealousy, because the night before, Sofya Andreevna was taken from the ball by a gentleman in the uniform of a police department. But it was last letter, in which Tolstoy addressed his beloved to "you". And soon it seems to him that “we were born at the same time and always knew each other, and therefore, completely not knowing you, I immediately rushed to you, because I heard something dear in your voice ... Remember, probably you felt the same ... "

From now on, each of his letters to her will be filled with the greatest confidence, each of them will be a confession and declaration of love.

Only the passionate monologue of Alexei Konstantinovich (Sofya Andreevna's letters have not survived) has come down to us, talking about their spiritual closeness, in which literature, art, philosophy, mysticism played a secondary role, making it possible to pour out their own, long accumulated, suffered and for the time being hidden. A person is talented, but without a reason, without a response, without understanding, he may never speak, remain at the mercy of vague sensations, carry scraps of thoughts, undeveloped and unfinished.

Tolstoy considered himself ugly, unmusical, inelegant ... There were a lot of them, all sorts of "not". Sofya Andreevna loved German music, but Tolstoy did not understand it and was upset that his beloved eluded him at Beethoven's door.

In Tolstoy, aversion to the service grew more and more. He tried by all means to evade duty in the palace. Sofya Andreevna sympathized with his desire to break with court life and go headlong into creativity. And yet powerful relatives promoted him. In February he becomes a collegiate counselor, and in May he is made "Master of Ceremonies of His Majesty's Court." The heir to the throne, the future Emperor Alexander II, considers him an indispensable companion on hunting trips, often visits Pustynka, in a house that was furnished with all possible luxury - Boolean furniture, many works of art, and precious porcelain belonging to the Perovskys were brought there. All this was arranged with taste, pleasing to the eye, and Tolstoy enjoyed spending time in the Pustynka. He wanted to paint, sculpt, and more to walk in the forests and fields or ride a horse.

He constantly thinks about Sofya Andreevna. She does not say something, and sometimes avoids him. Tolstoy blames myself for this. It was he who turned out to be not sensitive enough ... Or maybe he has already lost interest in her? A woman is able to predict what a man does not yet realize. Doubt feeds the muse.

With a gun over his shoulder, alone, by the moon,

I am riding a faithful horse across the field.

I dropped the reins, I think about her,

Go, my horse, more fun on the grass! ..

And with him is a mocking double, as if guessing the true state of Tolstoy, predicting the trivial end of his love:

“I laugh, comrade, at your dreams,

I laugh that you are ruining the future;

Do you think that you really love her?

That you really love her yourself?

It's funny to me, it's funny that, loving so fervently,

You do not love her, but love yourself.

Come to your senses, your impulses are not the same!

She's no secret to you

By chance you met in the bustle of the world,

You will part ways with her by accident.

I laugh bitterly, I laugh evil

That you sigh so hard. "

But in Tolstoy it is not always possible to understand where he is deadly serious, and where he is just as deadly ironic. This is Prutkov's trait ...

In the few surviving fragments of Tolstoy's letters to Sofya Andreyevna, there is no longer any irony. Apparently, she wrote to him that his feeling was only ecstatic excitement. It will pass, and Tolstoy will no longer love her. He felt in her words an understatement that worried him. She hinted at circumstances unknown to him. She was scared ... But he did not understand what she was afraid of, did not understand her "worries, premonitions, fears", said that the flower disappears, but the fruit remains, the plant itself. Yes, he knows that love is not an eternal feeling. But is it worth it to be afraid of this? Well, love will pass, but blessed friendship will remain, when people can no longer do without each other, when one becomes, as it were, a natural continuation of the other. He already and now feels that he is to a greater extent she, that Sofya Andreevna is more for him than the second "I".

“I swear to you, as I would have sworn before the judgment seat of God, that I love you with all my abilities, all thoughts, all movements, all the sufferings and joys of my soul. Accept this love for what it is, do not look for a reason for it, do not look for a name for it, as a doctor looks for a name for a disease, do not define a place for it, do not analyze it. Take it as it is, take it without delving into it, I cannot give you anything better, I gave you everything that I had precious, I have nothing better ... "

Once she showed him her diary, and he was struck by the phrase there:

"To achieve the truth, once in a lifetime, one must free oneself from all acquired views and rebuild the entire system of one's knowledge."

He himself always thought so, but he could not express exactly how clever Sofya Andreevna did it. “I am like some shed or a vast room full of all sorts of things, very useful, sometimes very precious, but somehow piled on top of one another; with you I would like to sort it out and put everything in order. "

He is visited by thoughts common to any outstanding, creative person. How did it happen that he lived fruitlessly half of his life? He has so many contradictory characteristics that come into conflict, so many desires, so many needs of the heart that he tries to reconcile ... But reconciliation, harmony does not work out. Any attempt to express himself creatively leads to such a struggle of contradictions in himself that the whole being comes out of this struggle torn apart. He does not live in his own environment, does not follow his vocation, there is complete discord in his soul, and it turns out that he is an ordinary lazy person, although, in essence, he is active by nature ...

This means that everything needs to be changed, everything in oneself must be put in its place, and only one person can help him in this - Sofya Andreevna.

The summer of 1851 was hot. Returning from the forest, Tolstoy sat down for letters to Sofya Andreevna, told her how the forest smells attracted him. They are reminiscent of the childhood spent in the Red Horn, so rich in forests. Ryzhiki, every sort of mushroom awakens in him many pictures from his past. He loves the smell of moss, old trees, young, freshly felled pines ... The smell of a forest on a sultry afternoon, the smell of a forest after rain, the smell of flowers ...

Anna Alekseevna had already found out about her son's connection with Sofya Andreevna, but she looked calmly at the relationship with a married woman, because she considered them a frivolous, short-term hobby, did not see anything threatening selfish maternal love in her son's feelings for Sofya Andreevna.

Sofya Andreevna went to her brother in the Penza province, in the family estate of the Bakhmetevs, the village of Smalkovo. Tolstoy yearns and writes her a lengthy letter from the Pustynka, in which the motive of the eternity of love, its predestination and fatality sounds again. And, perhaps, this main letter, his credo, which he adhered to all his life unswervingly.

"... There are moments in which my soul, at the thought of you, seems to recall the distant, distant times, when we knew each other even better and were even closer than now, and then it seems to me that the promise that we will become again as close as they once were, and at such moments I experience happiness so great and so different from everything available to our ideas here that it’s like a foretaste or a premonition of the future life. Do not be afraid to lose your individuality, and even if you even lost it, this does not mean anything, since our individuality is something acquired by us, while our natural and original state is good, which is one, homogeneous and indivisible. Lies, evil have thousands of forms and types, and truth (or good) can only be one ... upsetting ... "

And since "our initial state is good", then his deep respect for people who are able to live naturally, not subjecting themselves to the conventions of light and the requirements of "so-called service" arises. It seems to Tolstoy that people of art are such, that they have different thoughts and kind faces. He tells what pleasure it gives him to see people who have devoted themselves to some kind of art, do not know the service, do not engage, under the pretext of official necessity, "intrigues one dirtier than the other." He is an idealist, our hero, who believes that intrigue is unusual for people of art. In their world, he sees an opportunity to "take a break" from the eternal stay in official uniform, from the observance of the rules of bureaucratic hostel, from bureaucratic slavery, which none of the employees is able to avoid, no matter how high the hierarchical ladder he is.

“I don’t want to talk about myself now, but someday I’ll tell you how little I was born for my service life and how little I can do it ...

But if you want me to tell you what my real calling is, be a writer.

I have not done anything yet - I have never been supported and always discouraged, I am very lazy, it is true, but I feel that I could do something good, if only I could be sure that I find an artistic echo, and now I am it. found ... it's you.

If I know that you are interested in my writing, I will work harder and better.

So know that I am not an official, but an artist. "

And here we are approaching the ordeal of Alexei Konstantinovich Tolstoy's love for Sofya Andreyevna Miller. This letter was sent from Pustynka to Smalkovo on October 14, 1851, and a few days later Tolstoy himself rushes there to hear the confession of his beloved woman ...

And already on October 21, he writes a poem addressed to Sofya Andreevna, full of love and hints at their painful explanations:

Listening to your story, I fell in love with you, my joy!

I lived your life and I cried with your tears ...

Much hurt me, I reproached you in many respects;

But I do not want to forget either your mistakes or your sufferings ...

What happened during these seven days? Why does Tolstoy, who has just written a long message and did not say a word about Sofya Andreevna's "mistakes and sufferings," suddenly breaks loose and, armed with the most formidable road trip, urging the drivers, driving the horses, rushes to Smalkovo?

Anna Alekseevna Tolstaya finally realized that her son was not having a simple love affair, and became interested in his chosen one. She made inquiries, and the helpful gossips told her such things about Sofya Andreyevna that she was horrified. The countess was even shown in the theater for a certain person, mistaking her for Sofya Andreevna by the consonance of names. The vulgar appearance of the person extremely shocked Anna Alekseevna, who almost on the same evening asked her son outright what his relationship was with Sofya Andreevna, whether he loved her ...

Unable to bend his soul, Alexei Konstantinovich said that he loved, that he did not know a more wonderful and intelligent woman than Sofya Andreevna Miller, and if she managed to divorce her husband, he would consider it happiness to agree to become a friend of life ... Anna Alekseevna angrily interrupted him and expressed everything that she had heard and herself thought of Sofya Andreyevna.

Firmly convinced that Sofya Andreevna was not in St. Petersburg, he smiled when his mother painted the lady she saw in the theater, but it was worthwhile in the mother's story to flash up the names of the Bakhmetevs and various familiar details that were closely linked with what he did not yet know, but I could have guessed, if I wanted to, how the smile faded from his face. He was shocked. He wanted to see Sofya Andreevna at once, to explain to her, to hear from her lips that all this was not true ...

Tolstoy urgently needed to visit the uncle of Vasily Alekseevich Perovsky in Orenburg, and the way there ran through the Penza province. Saransk flashed by, and now Smalkovo - a church with a high bell tower, a two-story house of the Bakhmetevs, half-hidden by overgrown willows, village huts. Entering the house, he heard the sounds of a piano and a voice, "from which he immediately started up," a marvelous voice that captivated him forever ...

Sofya Andreevna was so delighted at his arrival that he was embarrassed to start an unpleasant conversation. When he began to reproach her with secrecy, she burst into tears, said that she loved him and therefore did not want to upset. She will tell him everything, and he is free to believe or not to believe her ...

We can only speculate about their explanation. There were reproaches from Tolstoy, but there was also compassion, forgiveness, boundless generosity. Soon he will write to her: “Poor child, since you were thrown into life, you have known only storms and thunderstorms. Even in the best moments, when we were together, you were worried about some kind of persistent concern, some premonition, some kind of apprehension ... "

Sophia Andreevna's past was vague and unfortunate.

Only a few of Tolstoy's letters to Miller have survived, in which hints of his suffering and her past have accidentally survived - after his death, she mercilessly destroyed her own letters, and even cut out individual lines from the letters left by Alexei Konstantinovich ...

But in “Journey Abroad by M.N. Pokhvisnev, 1847 "there is a mention of a carefully hidden drama:

“Count Tolstoy, the father of the Moscow beauty Polina (so popular in Moscow), who recently married Prince Tolstoy, is traveling with us in the stagecoach. Vyazemsky, who killed the transfiguration Bakhmetev in a duel ... The count proudly tells us about his son-in-law, who made a lot of noise with his story with Bakhmetev; the case became for Bakhmetev's sister, whom Vyazemsky promised to marry and whom, they say, he seduced; brother stood up for his sister and was killed by Vyazemsky. The trial over him ended, and the verdict was announced to him, together with the son of Gr. Tolstoy (who was his second), at the door of the Criminal Chamber. Thanks to the petition of the old woman Razumovskaya, Vyazemsky's aunt, the latter was charged with a two-year arrest ... "

How many of them, Tolstoy and Razumovsky, by that time connected by kinship with almost all eminent noble families! Even Sofia Andreevna's husband, horse guard Lev Fedorovich Miller, has a mother, Tatyana Lvovna, nee Tolstaya.

Sophia Andreevna's life in her own home became unbearable. To escape from sidelong glances (the family considered her to be the culprit for the death of her brother), she married Captain Miller, who was passionately in love with her. But the marriage was unsuccessful, she abhorred her husband and soon left him.

Sofya Andreevna confessed to Tolstoy, but whether her confession was complete, whether her feeling was as deep and strong as his, you will never know. If not, then she was unhappy with her "worries, premonitions, fears." He was excruciatingly happy ...

The compassion and generosity of a strong person is clearly visible in the end of the poem in which he said that he did not want to forget Sofya Andreevna's mistakes.

Your tears are dear to me and every word is dear!

I see the poor child in you, without a father, without support;

You knew early grief, deceit and human slander,

Early under the weight of troubles your strength was broken!

You poor tree, with its head drooping down!

You lean against me, tree, against the green elm:

You lean against me, I stand securely and firmly!

Ten days later, another poem was formed, which later charmed the composers Lyadov and Arensky with its mode.

Don't ask, don't spray

Do not scatter with your mind:

How I love you, why I love you,

And for what I love, and for how long?

Don't ask, don't scatter:

What are you, my sister, my young wife?

Or are you a small brainchild to me?

I don’t know, and I don’t know

How to call you, how to call you.

Many flowers in an open field,

Many stars are burning in the sky,

And there is no skill to name them,

There is no force to recognize them.

Having fallen in love with you, I did not ask;

I didn’t guess, I didn’t feel

Falling in love with you, I waved my hand

Outlined his riotous head!

From Smalkov, Tolstoy went to his uncle Vasily Alekseevich Perovsky in Orenburg, and on the way he had time to reflect on Sofya Andreevna and her family ...

It was a pleasant surprise to find out that Sofya Andreevna, like him, loves hunting, rides like a man, in a Cossack saddle, rushes at full speed through the fields with a whip and a gun over her shoulders, and her habits are like a regular rider ... ...

He also met with numerous Bakhmetevs - the head of the family Pyotr Andreevich, his wife, children Yuri, Sophia, Nina, sisters of Sophia Andreevna, her other brother, Nikolai Andreevich, who was said to be the “soul and nerve” of the entire local society. "He is a terrible vanity, restless like a demon, but on the other hand he brings life with him wherever he enters." Everyone called him Kolyasha. He adored Sofya Andreevna, considered the height of perfection. The relationship between all the Bakhmetevs was very complicated.

One of the Bakhmetevs was married to Varvara Alexandrovna, Varenka, nee Lopukhina, with whom Lermontov was in love. Varvara Alexandrovna's husband poisoned her life - in every story or drama of the poet, where a foolish husband was brought out, whose wife loves another, he fancied mockery, mockery. Sofya Andreevna knew everything about these family quarrels, because at one time, very young, she lived with Varvara Alexandrovna, was brought up by her, owed her her development.

In Orenburg, a small fortress surrounded by earthen ramparts and ditches, Tolstoy was greeted with joy by Perovsky and Alexander Zhemchuzhnikov.

After the unsuccessful Khiva campaign, as we remember, Perovsky returned to St. Petersburg, healed his wounds abroad, and was moping around because the duties of a member of the State Council seemed boring to him. He experienced the death of the soldiers of his detachment.

In the capital, the Benckendorffs, Nesselrodes, Kleinmichels, who were closely surrounding the king, did everything to prevent him from justifying his actions. After waiting two months for an audience, he decided on a desperate act. On examination, he breathed out of order and crossed his arms over his chest. The emperor frowned, but when he heard that it was Perovsky, he came up and hugged him.

Perovsky made sure that all the surviving participants unsuccessful campaign were awarded. But he was not allowed to make a new campaign. He was ill for a long time. When he was completely ill, Nicholas I visited him.

What can I do for you? the emperor asked.

I would like, your majesty, to be buried by the Ural Cossacks, - answered Perovsky.

When decisive actions were needed at the border, Perovsky was again appointed to the Orenburg region and given enormous powers.

He arrived in Orenburg, taking with him his nephew Alexander Zhemchuzhnikov as an official in his office. On the ramparts of Orenburg there were sentries and at night they shouted long and long: "Listen, ay!", Which is why they were called royal roosters.

Only twelve thousand inhabitants, including the troops, were in the town, which ruled over an infinitely large region. And in Orenburg itself, General Obruchev ruled, a lover of scolding subordinates and saving state money. He saved a million rubles, sent them to Petersburg, but did not receive any reward for this. But by 1851, Orenburg remained a bunch of nasty and dilapidated buildings.

But now the boondocks are awakened. Appointed by the governor-general of Orenburg and Samara, Perovsky brought with him a huge staff of officials for special assignments and adjutants, opened many new institutions and healed so luxuriantly that flatterers began to compare him with Louis XIV.

The regions under his control extended from the Volga to the spurs of the Urals. He was entrusted with diplomatic relations with Khiva and Bukhara, for some receptions the treasury gave him half a million rubles a year.

Perovsky's plans were enormous, and he subsequently carried them out.

Under him, many fortifications were built in the Kazakh steppe, which laid the foundation for the present cities, the Aral Sea was explored, the Kokand fortress Ak-Mechet was taken by storm, later renamed the Perovsky fort, an agreement was concluded with Khiva, which undermined the foundations of this tyrannical slave state. Perovsky's actions predetermined the annexation of vast Central Asian territories to Russia.

A contemporary wrote about him:

“Energy, speed, onslaught - these were the main features of Perovsky's activity.

Handsome, handsome, above average height, well-mannered, he made an enchanting impression in society. Especially delighted with him were the ladies, who, it seems, considered it their sacred duty to fall in love with him and almost ran after him - wherever he was, there they too. Sometimes he was so able to charm them that, as they say, he would fit into the soul. But another time from one of his angry glances these same ladies fainted ”.

Perovsky was very proud of the fact that in his position he was also the ataman of the Orenburg Cossack army, which consisted of twelve regiments. One of the regiments was located in a village adjacent to the city. The Cossacks lived freely, traded in the Exchange Yard, a huge market spread across the Ural River.

Who has not seen this market! Camel and horse caravans flocked here from Bukhara, Khiva, Kokand, Tashkent, Akmolinsk ...

Shouts, neighing, stomping ... In dozens of languages, people bargained, argued, came to an agreement. The majority were illiterate, did not know how to count money and recognized only exchange trade.

Vasily Alekseevich Perovsky, who did not have his own family, considered it his duty to take care of the sons of his sisters Alexei Tolstoy and the Zhemchuzhnikov brothers. Once in Orenburg, Tolstoy found himself in a pleasant society for him, hunted a lot, participated in the merry tricks of Alexander Zhemchuzhnikov ...

During his trips to Orenburg, the poet often overtook the line of convicts who wandered eastward across the steppe. Gloomy, with shaved foreheads, rattling chains, they looked sideways at the passing carriage and sometimes sang their mournful songs. Impressed by such meetings, Tolstoy wrote the poem "Kolodniki", which was published many years later and, set to music by A. T. Grechaninov, became one of the most popular revolutionary songs. Lenin was very fond of her, and political prisoners often sang.

The sun goes down across the steppe,

Feather grass is gilded in the distance, -

Kolodnikov ringing chains

Sweep up the road dust ...

Tolstoy and Zhemchuzhnikov, using family ties, often stood up for artists and writers who were subjected to repression. Back in 1850, they asked Vasily Alekseevich Perovsky to stand up for Shevchenko. In the affairs of the III Division, the general's letter to Dubelt was preserved:

“Knowing how little free time you have, I do not intend to bother you with personal explanations, and therefore, enclosing a note about one case, I humbly ask Your Excellency to read it in your spare moment, and then notify me: is it possible to in your opinion, to take to alleviate the fate of Shevchenko? "

The note contained a statement of the case of a Ukrainian artist and poet, “sent to the service by a private for writing libelous verses in the Little Russian language ... Since then, Private Shevchenko behaved excellently ... Last year ... the commander of a separate Orenburg corps (Obruchev. - D. Zh.), having made sure of his excellent behavior and way of thinking, he asked for permission to draw, but this performance was refused ... Private Shevchenko is about forty years old; he is of a very weak and unreliable constitution ... "

Dubelt replied: “As a result of your Excellency's note of February 14, I considered it my duty to report to the Adjutant General Count Orlov ... with an all-subject report ... "

And two months later, Shevchenko, who lived in Orenburg relatively freely and, despite the prohibition, painted and wrote, was arrested again.

By the time V.A.Perovsky was appointed head of the Orenburg Territory, through the efforts of the III Branch, Shevchenko had already been transferred from the city to the Orsk fortress, and then to Mangyshlak.

Lev Zhemchuzhnikov later wrote to the biographer of Shevchenko, A. Ya.Konissky:

“Perovsky knew about Shevchenko from KP Bryullov, you. Andr. Zhukovsky, etc. I asked for Shevchenko from Perovsky, when he was passing through Moscow, and Count Andr. Yves. Gudovich (brother of Ilya's wife Iv. Lizogub); asked for him both in Petersburg and in Orenburg my cousin, a poet now known to the public, Count A. K. Tolstoy. But Perovsky, although he was an all-powerful satrap, as Shevchenko put it, could not do anything for Shevchenko: Emperor Nikolai Pavlovich was so angry with the poet. Perovsky told the Lizogubs, Tolstoy and Gudovich that it was better to keep silent now so that they would forget about Shevchenko, since the intercession for him could serve to his detriment. This fact is an undoubted and serious fact, since it illuminates the personality of V.A.Perovsky differently than Shevchenko thought about him. Perovsky, stern-looking, was kind, extremely noble and chivalrously honest: he always made it easier for the exiled, as these exiled Poles and Russians have repeatedly stated, but in favor of Shevchenko he was powerless to do anything. Emperor Nicholas considered Shevchenko ungrateful and was offended and embittered for presenting his wife in a caricatured form in the poem "Dream" ... "

The king could not forgive the poet for such lines:

Shevchenko pulled the soldier's strap in the Novopetrovsk fortification, on the deserted and hot coast of the Caspian Sea. "But kind people undoubtedly, they continued to think and care about Shevchenko, and these included, as I well know, Alexei Tolstoy, the Lizogubs and the same V. A. Perovsky, "Lev Zhemchuzhnikov wrote in his memoirs.

Having become governor-general of Orenburg, Perovsky, through his entourage, repeatedly hinted to Shevchenko's commanders that the poet should not be oppressed, and in a letter from the wife of the commandant of the Novopetrovsky fortification Uskova to A. Ya. (Uskov) when leaving Orenburg for the fort went to say goodbye to Perovsky, then he was the first to talk about Shevchenko and asked her husband to somehow ease his situation ... ".

A. A. Kondratyev assures that Tolstoy returned from Orenburg to St. Petersburg almost in the spring of 1852, having stopped again on the way to Smalkovo. However, this statement is contradicted by a letter to Sofya Andreevna sent from St. Petersburg. In it, Aleksey Konstantinovich “regrets” his stay in Smalkov, since “in the midst of aristocratic hobbies” he wanted country life for himself. The letter is dated 1851 according to Lirondel's book.

And in St. Petersburg, Aleksey Konstantinovich regretted that he did not have enough words to convey his fortune away from Smalkov. So he returned from the masquerade ball, where he was serving his official duty - he accompanied the heir to the throne.

“How sad I was there! Never go to those nasty masquerade balls! - he exclaims, although he owes his acquaintance with Sofya Andreevna to him. - I would so much like to refresh your poor heart, so I would like to give you a rest from your whole life! "

Yes, Smalkovo, a village, a beloved woman ... There, in the Smalkovo house, it was blissful and calm. What is there? "All the hustle and bustle of light, ambition, vanity, etc." This is unnatural, this is an unkind fog. Through him and now her voice seems to be heard:

I give it up forever for the love of you!

He is seized by a feeling of undivided happiness. The words spoken by her in Smalkov, again and again sound in my soul as an assurance that from now on nothing will harm either her or him.

“It’s your heart that sings with happiness, and mine listens to it, and since all this is in ourselves, it cannot be taken away from us, and even in the midst of the bustle of the world we can be alone and be happy. My character is with anguish, but there is no pettiness in it - I give you my word. "

Russian literature cannot be conceived without love lyrics created by the great feeling of Alexei Konstantinovich Tolstoy.

And everywhere there is sound, and everywhere there is light,

And all the worlds have one beginning,

And nothing in no nature,

That would not breathe love.

Everything was not easy in this love.

It was not easy to get Miller's consent to divorce.

It was not easy with Anna Alekseevna. There is a mention of Tolstoy's letter to his mother, in which he still and again talks about his feelings, asks to forgive him, begs not to believe the bad rumors about Sofya Andreevna ...

For the next two years, Tolstoy rushed between Pustynka, his St. Petersburg apartment in Vielgorsky's house on Mikhailovskaya Square and Smalkovo.

It is known that he wrote to his beloved Tolstoy almost every day. Here are the lines from a letter dated June 23, 1852, first published in Russian:

Occasionally Tolstoy goes abroad and on the waters at the insistence of his mother. She suffers, sends him desperate letters, "rebelles with all ardor" against his independence, and he suffers because of her grief. “My love grows because of your sorrow,” he writes to Anna Alekseevna.

Sometimes the correspondence with the mother is fierce. Then Tolstoy confesses: “I don’t remember what I wrote to you, being under a bad impression ...” Sometimes the offended mother stops responding to his letters altogether.

From the spring and almost all of 1851, Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev was in Spassky-Lutovinovo. But he was often mentioned in letters.

Sofya Andreevna praised Turgenev. Tolstoy received these praises with jealousy.

"... But now let's talk about Turgenev. I believe that he is a very noble and worthy person, but I do not see anything Jupiter in his face! .. "

Alexei Konstantinovich recalled a Russian man's face, a silk scarf around his neck in French, a soft voice that did not fit well with Turgenev's large stature and heroic build, and added:

“Just a nice face, rather weak and not even very pretty. The mouth, in particular, is very weak. The shape of the forehead is good, but the skull is covered with oily bodily layers. He's all soft. "

Something between Turgenev and Sofya Andreevna was at the very beginning of their acquaintance. But what? Turgenev wrote to her later:

“I have nothing to repeat to you what I wrote to you in my first letter, namely: among the happy occasions that I have let go in dozens of my hands, I especially remember the one that brought you together and which I used so badly .. We got together and parted so strangely that we hardly had any idea about each other, but it seems to me that you really should be very kind, that you have a lot of taste and grace ... "

At the beginning of 1852, Turgenev arrived in St. Petersburg.

He settled on Malaya Morskaya, received numerous acquaintances. Alexandrinka in Martynov's benefit performance staged his comedy "Lack of Money". And then soon the news came that Gogol had died in Moscow.

“Gogol is dead! .. What Russian soul will not be shaken by these words? .. - wrote Turgenev in the article. - Yes, he died, this man, whom we now have the right, the bitter right given to us by death, to call great; a man who, by his name, signified an era in the history of our literature; a person we are proud of as one of our glories! "

The censorship did not allow this article to be published in Petersburg Vedomosti.

Moscow buried Gogol solemnly, its governor-general Zakrevsky himself, putting on the Andreevskaya ribbon, accompanied the writer ... From Petersburg they made it clear to Zakrevsky that such solemnity was inappropriate.

The author of "Correspondence with Friends", which, it would seem, was supposed to reconcile those in power with him, died. Belinsky attacked him in his famous letter, which was considered a state crime to keep and read. By the way, Turgenev spent that summer, when it was being written, together with Belinsky in Salzbrunn ... But Gogol was proclaimed by Belinsky the father of the "natural school" and became the banner of the ill-intentioned.

Pushkin was buried quietly in order to avoid "an indecent picture of the triumph of the liberals," as stated in the report on the actions of the gendarme corps.

The same considerations accompanied Gogol's death.

Turgenev sent his article to Moscow, where it appeared through the efforts of Botkin and Feoktistov in Moskovskiye Vedomosti under the guise of Letters from St. Petersburg.

Followed by the "all-subject report" of the III Department on Turgenev and "his accomplices" who published an article bypassing censorship.

"... For obvious disobedience to put him under arrest for a month and send him to live in his homeland under supervision, and with others to do so to give Mr. Zakrevsky an order according to their guilt."

Having imposed a resolution, Nicholas I asked about Turgenev:

Is he an official?

No, your majesty, it does not serve anywhere.

Well, this is not possible in the guardhouse, to put him in the police.

So Turgenev found himself in the congress of the 2nd Admiralty unit.

According to the memoirs of Olga Nikolaevna Smirnova, Turgenev's arrest took place almost at their home. “He dined with us with Gr. A.K. Tolstoy (after the death of Gogol in 1852). In my diary, I found details and even conversations on the occasion of Gogol's death, about his stay in our village in the summer, in his father near Moscow, "etc. The writers were received by the somehow suddenly aged Alexandra Osipovna Rosset-Smirnova. Olga Nikolaevna recorded an interesting conversation between her mother and Tolstoy and Turgenev, who asked her about Pushkin, Lermontov and Gogol.

Either Turgenev or Tolstoy asked what the tsar liked most in Boris Godunov. And she replied that the tsar himself had told her about the beautiful scene where Boris was giving advice to his son. She quoted Pushkin's words about the need to free the peasants, without which the country cannot develop properly. She also talked about how Gogol with reverence entered everything he heard from Pushkin into a pocket book ...

After the arrest, Alexei Tolstoy immediately went to Turgenev to the police and advised him to write a letter to the heir to the throne. He speaks more than once or twice with the future king.

On April 21, he writes to Sofya Andreevna: “I have just returned from the Grand Duke, with whom I again spoke about Turgenev. It seems that there are other claims against him, besides the case with the article about Gogol. It is forbidden to visit him, but I was allowed to send him books. "

Chief among the "other claims" was the book "Notes of a Hunter".

This book made an indelible impression on Tolstoy. He wrote from the Pustynka to his beloved:

“I read to my mother the entire second volume of the Hunter's Notes, which she listened to with great pleasure. Indeed, very well - without a final form ... it somehow passes from one to another and takes all sorts of forms depending on the mood of the spirit in which you are ... It reminds me of some kind of Beethoven's sonata ... that something rustic and simple ...

When I meet something like this, I feel that enthusiasm rises to the head along the spine, just like when I read beautiful poetry. Many of his characters are gems, but not hewn.

My mind is slow and influenced by my passions, but it is fair.

Do you think that something will ever come out of me?

And what can ever get out of me?

If it was only a matter of picking up a torch and setting fire to a powder mine and blowing myself up with it, I would be able to do it; but so many people would also be able to do this ... I feel a heart, a mind - and a big heart in me, but what is it to me? "

In these almost youthful thoughts, the influential courtier is in no way recognizable. But what is the yardstick of maturity? Everyday success, connections in society? For Tolstoy, this was not life. The artist had already matured in him, but Tolstoy wanted to throw off the burden of his former doubts by sharing with Sofya Andreevna.

"... Think that until the age of 36 I had no one to confide in my grief, no one to pour out my soul."

“You are talking to me about Count T (olstom). He is a warm-hearted person who aroused in me a great feeling of respect and gratitude. He barely knew me when my unpleasant incident happened, and despite this, no one showed as much sympathy to me as he did, and today he is, perhaps, the only person in Petersburg who has not forgotten me, the only one, at least which proves it. Some wretched person has taken it into his head to say that gratitude is a heavy burden; for me, I am happy that I am grateful to T (Tolstoy); all my life I will keep this feeling for him. "

Tolstoy told Turgenev who to write what to be allowed to return to Petersburg. But it was all in vain. Then Alexei Tolstoy took a very risky step.

He turned to the chief of gendarmes, Count Orlov, on behalf of the heir to the throne. Orlov could not refuse, and on November 14, 1853, made a report to the tsar about permission for Turgenev to live in the capital.

The king put down a resolution:

"I agree, but to have strict supervision here."

Orlov has already written to the heir that the request has been fulfilled, and handed the letter to General Dubelt for sending.

Tolstoy found himself on the edge of the abyss. The point was that the heir did not ask for Turgenev. Tolstoy deceived Orlov.

Pretending that he knew nothing about the tsarist resolution, Tolstoy went to Section III.

Leonty Vasilyevich Dubelt was not averse to philosophizing about the beneficence of the existing order, about the submissiveness of the Russian peasant. He used to say: “Russia can be compared with a Harlequin dress, of which the shreds are sewn with a single thread, - and it holds up nicely and beautifully. This thread is autocracy. Pull it out and the dress will fall apart. "

He accepted Tolstoy immediately and was extremely kind to him. Alexey Konstantinovich, having listened to Dubelt's thoughts with exaggerated attention, as if casually screwed in that the heir to the throne, of course, is disposed to Turgenev, which he, Tolstoy, told Count Orlov about. But he apparently considered this conversation a direct petition of the heir, and now this misunderstanding may be misunderstood by His Imperial Highness ...

In his book about the Nikolaev gendarmes M. Lemke wrote:

“No matter how cunning Dubelt was, he did not understand Tolstoy's cunning and asked Orlov to change the edition of the paper to the heir. Orlov wrote: “If you think that my paper to the Tsarevich can do harm to gr. Tolstoy, then you can not send it, especially since Turgenev himself asked.

Thus, Tolstoy was saved.

A letter from Tolstoy flew to Spasskoye-Lutovinovo with congratulations and a wish that Turgenev immediately left for Petersburg and did not stay late, passing Moscow, so that in Petersburg itself he immediately went to Tolstoy, and before that did not meet with anyone. Tolstoy needed to warn Turgenev about how things had developed and how to behave in Petersburg. And in case of perlustration, the letter praised the heir, "who contributed much to the pardon."

Tolstoy and his cousins Zhemchuzhnikovs tried to spread this version throughout St. Petersburg. Grigory Gennadi wrote in his diary on November 28, 1853: “Today Zh (emchuzhnikov) brought me the news of the forgiveness of Yves. Turgenev. Count Alexei Tolstoy worked for him with the Heir. "

In December, Turgenev was in St. Petersburg, and soon Sofia Andreevna also arrived there. The artist Lev Zhemchuzhnikov later recalled:

“I spent the whole winter of 1853 in Petersburg and rented for myself a special apartment in a wooden house, in a garden where only the owner and his wife lived; I had a special move, and no one knew this apartment, except for A. Tolstoy, Beideman, Kulish and Turgenev. I devoted myself to composing sketches and reading ... A. Tolstoy often came here, he used to cook fish or a steak on a saucepan he brought, we would have supper with him and his future wife Sofya Andreevna and say goodbye; he will go to his place, and I will go to my father, where I always spent the night ... This winter I often spent evenings with A. Tolstoy and Sophia Andreyevna, where Turgenev often visited and read us Pushkin, Shakespeare and some of his works. Turgenev was always interesting, and the conversation dragged on, without fatigue, sometimes until midnight or more. Sofya Andreevna, the future wife of A. Tolstoy, was a good musician, played pieces by Pergolez, Bach, Gluck, Glinka and others and brought variety to our evenings by singing. "

Alexey Konstantinovich will never part with Sofya Andreevna now. They still have a lot of trials ahead of them. Tolstoy knew how to both forgive and love. This is characteristic of bogatyrs, people of enormous strength.

Soon, in the spring of 1854, several poems by Alexei Tolstoy appeared in Sovremennik. Finally he found it possible to publish little of what he had written. And you don't have to be particularly understanding to understand what the verses are inspired by:

If you love, so without reason,

If you threaten, it's not a joke,

Kohl swear, so rashly,

Kohl hack, so from the shoulder!

If you argue, it's so bold

Kohl punish, so for the case,

If you forgive, so with all your soul.

If there is a feast, then a feast like a mountain!

In this poem, many have seen best features Russian character.

The "gloomy seven years" continued. Nekrasov and Panaev did everything to save the Sovremennik magazine. They managed it. They attracted the Westernizer Botkin and the liberal Druzhinin to cooperation, published the works of Turgenev, Grigorovich, Pisemsky, Tyutchev, Fet. At that time, Goncharov, Lev Tolstoy and Alexei Tolstoy made their debut at Sovremennik. The year 1854 was marked by the appearance on the pages of the magazine of the lyrics of Alexei Konstantinovich and one of his incarnations - the multifaceted work of Kozma Prutkov.

The Sovremennik circle (before Chernyshevsky appeared in it) was a noble one. An exception was Botkin, but this merchant's son did not differ in education or manners from bar-writers. The circle met in Nekrasov's apartment on the corner of Kolokolnaya Street and Povarsky Lane, or in the editorial office on the Fontanka Embankment.

On some days, Avdotya Yakovlevna Panaeva reigned at these dinners, short, slender, black-haired, dark-skinned and ruddy. Large diamonds sparkled in her ears, and her voice was capricious, like a spoiled child. Her husband, Ivan Ivanovich Panaev, looked affectionately at the guests, always fashionably dressed, with a scented mustache, frivolous, who felt equally excellent both in high-society drawing rooms and at hussar parties.

“Will you come to dinner with me tomorrow (Friday)? There will be Turgenev, Tolstoy (A.K.) and some others. Please".

There was certainly a tall fair-haired and skinny Druzhinin, with small eyes, according to Nekrasov, “like a pig's,” who, however, behaved like an English gentleman. Endowed with a great sense of humor, he responded with a gleeful article to the appearance in the feuilleton "New Poet" (Panaev) of the fable "The Conductor and the Tarantula", which foreshadowed the birth of Kozma Prutkov.

A big dinner was given on December 13, 1853 on the occasion of Turgenev's return from exile, and Nekrasov then uttered an impromptu, which included the following:

He was once much worse

But I do not tolerate reproaches,

And in this fearful husband I

I absolutely love everything ...

And his great praise

Everything that you write

And this gray head

With a youthful soul.

Grigorovich recalled that they gathered at the editorial office almost every day. “... Something happened that I had never seen at any literary gathering or meeting; irregularities of character and minor temporary disagreements, as it were, were left at the entrance with fur coats. Sharp remarks were added to the serious literary debate, humorous poems and parodies were read, funny anecdotes were told; the laughter was incessant. " It is curious, however, another thing - almost all memoirists, without saying a word, explain this fun ... by censorship.

Mikhail Longinov at that time was very liberal. He surpassed everyone in his mockery of censorship absurdities, but this did not prevent him from subsequently becoming the most formidable head of the press department for writers. He remembered all the same about the "gloomy year", about the dangers of engaging in journalism, about the despondency of the writers and about the diversion of the soul in jokes, since, they say, everyone was young then ...

A. N. Pypin appeared in Sovremennik already with the consolidation of his relative Chernyshevsky in the editorial office and the predominance of a serious atmosphere, but he still found something from the previous years and wrote about it in his memoirs about Nekrasov:

“The mood of the literary circle, which I saw here ... (at lunches and dinners of Nekrasov. - D. Zh.) it was rather strange; first of all, it was, of course, a depressed mood; it was difficult to say in literature even what was said recently, at the end of the forties. By orders of an unofficial committee, some books of the previous period were even selected, for example, Otechestvennye zapiski of the forties; Slavophiles were simply prohibited from writing or censoring their articles; only dark hints and silence remained. In the circle of Sovremennik, current news of various kinds, censorship anecdotes, sometimes supernatural, or simple friendly chatter, which had long prevailed in the bachelor company of the then lord class, was transmitted, and this company was both bachelor and lordly. Often she attacked very slippery topics ... "

When later Turgenev was asked how people could entertain themselves in such a dark time in such a gloomy time, he reminded of Boccaccio's Decameron, where in the midst of the plague, gentlemen and ladies entertain each other with stories of obscene content.

And wasn’t, - concluded Turgenev, - Nikolaev oppression was not a kind of plague for an educated society?

Druzhinin called such occupations "black book". Grigorovich recalled that, having worked thoroughly, Druzhinin was resting with friends in a specially rented apartment on Vasilievsky Island, where they danced around the plaster Venus of Meditseyskaya, singing light songs.

But, in spite of the censorship persecutions and the fun they allegedly engendered, literature was enriched very energetically, and much of what was published then in Sovremennik survived its time. The comic work of the circle of "friends of Kozma Prutkov" was to the liking of the whole company of writers and was published almost all of 1854 in "Yeralash" - a specially started section of the magazine. Nekrasov even prefaced the first publication with a humorous poetic parting word.

The success of Kozma Prutkov's work was largely determined by the talent of Alexei Tolstoy, his subtle humor, which immediately pulled the fictional poet out of the ranks of ordinary scoffers, giving the entire emerging image an indescribable complexity and versatility.

It is known from Vladimir Zhemchuzhnikov's litters on copies of magazine texts that Epigram No. 1 belongs to Tolstoy's pen.

"Do you like cheese?" - asked the prude once,

"I love," he answered, "I find a taste in him."

He also wrote "A Letter from Corinth", "Ancient Plastic Greek" and the famous "Juncker Schmidt".

The leaf withers, the summer passes,

The frost is silvering.

Juncker Schmidt from a pistol

He wants to shoot himself.

Wait, mad! again

The greens will revive ...

Juncker Schmidt! honestly,

Summer will return.

But, really, there is no need to find out what Tolstoy wrote on his own, and what Prutkov's things were written together with Zhemchuzhnikov. Anyway, best works- "The Desire to Be Spaniard", "The Siege of Pamba", so beloved by Dostoevsky and other Russian classics, bear the stamp of Alexei Konstantinovich's talent. Later he painted "My Portrait", giving free rein to further fantasies in the formation of the image of Kozma Petrovich Prutkov.

When you meet a person in the crowd

Whose forehead is darker than foggy Kazbek,

The step is uneven;

Whom the hair is raised in disarray,

Who are crying

Always trembling in a nervous fit, -

Know - it's me!

Who are sore with anger forever new

From generation to generation;

With whom does the crowd crown his laurel

Vomits madly;

Who does not lean back flexible before anyone, -

Know - it's me!

I have a calm smile on my lips

There is a snake in your chest! ..

The image of Kozma Prutkov is inseparable, although his works are the fruit of collective creativity. It is difficult to find out which of famous aphorisms Prutkov were invented by Tolstoy, and which ones by the Zhemchuzhnikovs.

Kozma Prutkov said: "I don't quite understand why many people call fate a turkey, and not some other bird, more like fate." The creative fate of Kozma Prutkov himself cannot be called anything other than happy. And in our time, jokingly and seriously using the sayings of the bureaucratic sage, some do not even know who gave rise to these apt words, because they are already inseparable from our everyday speech. The authorship of the sayings is known: "No one will embrace the immense", "Look at the root!" other. But who remembers that such common phrases as: “What we have, we do not keep; having lost - we cry "," Stay alert! "," Everyone, they say that health is the most precious thing; but no one observes this "- also invented by Kozma Prutkov. Even while complaining that there is a residue left in our hearts, we repeat Prutkov's aphorism.

Even "during his lifetime" Kozma Prutkov was extremely popular. Chernyshevsky, Dobrolyubov and many other critics wrote about him. His name was repeatedly mentioned with admiration in his works by Dostoevsky. Saltykov-Shchedrin loved to quote Prutkov, to create aphorisms in his spirit. It is indispensable in the letters of Herzen, Turgenev, Goncharov ...

Kozma Prutkov is not an ordinary parodist. He "combined" many poets, including the most famous, whole literary directions... He was famous for his ability to bring everything to the point of absurdity, and then put everything in its place in one fell swoop, calling on common sense for help. But Prutkov did not appear from scratch.

Pushkin was a brilliant polemicist. He loved a sharp word. He taught in a dispute to stylize, to parody the syllable of a literary rival. He once remarked: “This kind of joke requires a rare flexibility of the syllable; a good parodist has all the syllables. "

Even under Pushkin, Osip Senkovsky flirted around in his "Library for Reading". His Baron Brambeus was then perceived by the reading public as a living, real-life literary man. Then Nadezhdin published his feuilletons in the "Vestnik Evropy", wearing the mask of "ex-student" Nikodim Aristarkhovich Nadoumko, criticizing romanticism, which was already being replaced by "natural school".

Turgenev recalled the time that preceded the appearance of Kozma Prutkov:

"... A whole phalanx of people appeared, undeniably gifted, but whose talent bore the imprint of rhetoric, an appearance corresponding to that great, but purely external force, which they served as an echo. These people appeared in poetry, and in painting, and in journalism, even on the theatrical stage ... What was the noise and thunder! "

He names the names of this "falsely stately school" - Marlinsky, Puppeteer, Zagoskin, Karatygin, Benediktov ...

I die like a volcano on cold people,

A flood of boiling lava ...

These Benedictine poems are perceived as a watershed between Pushkin's romanticism and Kozma Prutkov's absurdities.

Reading Kozma Prutkov, you often find yourself in a mess - it seems like one in form, another in content, but if you think it over, you get to know more closely all the circumstances of his era, and there will be the third, the fourth, and the fifth ... to the bottom, but no - not one bottom in the work of the most esteemed Kozma Petrovich, but so much that you will be lost in the count, and you don't know whether to laugh or cry over the imperfection of being and human nature, you start to think that stupidity is wise, and wisdom is stupid that banal truths are indeed full of common sense, and literary delights, for all their busyness, turn into thoughtlessness. Literary vanity gives rise to paradoxes and arrogance, behind which lies the same banality, and even any literary absurdity and madness has its own logic.

It is natural for a person to deceive himself, and especially a writer. But in moments of insight, he sees his own shortcomings more clearly than others and laughs bitterly at them. It's easy for yourself to tell the truth, it's more difficult for others ... Because no one likes the bitter truth in someone else's mouth, and then there is a need for Kozma Prutkov, for his florid truth, for a sage who has put on the guise of a simpleton ...

How Prutkov was perceived by the reading public can be judged at least by a letter from S. V. Engelhardt (writer Olga N.) to Druzhinin in November 1854: “As for Yeralash, I must tell you that I am I constantly resort to moments of boredom, and such moments, of course, often happen when you are in the village since September. Kuzma Prutkov positively amuses me, he often makes me awake until midnight, and I, like a fool, laugh with myself. I confess this, despite the opinion of Muscovites that a serious person never laughs. "

Kozma Prutkov was once called “ingenious in stupidity,” but this definition has long been doubted. The famous poem about the cadet Schmidt, who wanted to shoot himself, was considered a parody. But to whom? Then they saw the captivating touchingness and insecurity of the poem, imagined a county paramedic or postman dreaming of beautiful life... They noticed that it was written by a great poet, noticed the masterful chasing of rhythm, excellent rhyme. The Soviet literary critic V. Skvoznikov wrote about the kind intonation of the work: "If a person who has lost his taste for life, who is in a state of depression, is told:" Junker Schmidt, honestly, summer will return! " - it will be a joke, but an encouraging joke! "

If you remember that the poem was written in 1851, when Alexei Tolstoy suffered from the vagueness of Sofia Andreevna's response, from the reproaches of his mother, when he wrote poems full of love and pain, then one can think about ironing over himself, about touching a big feeling. Is this why the poem stands out so much in all the work of Kozma Prutkov? The feeling of a deep, long-suffering remains even in what Tolstoy himself considered a trifle ...

Alexey Zhemchuzhnikov wrote to his brother Vladimir: “Prutkov's relationship with Sovremennik arose from your and mine connections. I published my poems and comedies in Sovremennik, and you were familiar with the editorial board. "

The name of A. K. Tolstoy has already appeared in Nekrasov's invitation letter. In Gennadi's unpublished diary under 1855, we read the following entry:

“Yesterday, February 17, Dusseau had a dinner in honor of P.V. Annenkov, the publisher of Pushkin's works ... Botkin, Gaevsky, Yazykov ”.

Pypin concluded his impressions of the dinners with Nekrasov and Panaev with an attempt to explain the meaning of the birth of Kozma Prutkov in a somewhat expanded way:

“At this time, Druzhinin wrote in Sovremennik whole clownish feuilletons under the title“ The Journey of Ivan Chernoknizhnikov to St. Petersburg Dachas ”- for the entertainment of the reader, and his own. At this time, the works of the famous Kuzma Prutkov were created, which were also published in Sovremennik in a special section of the magazine, and in the editorial office of Sovremennik I first met one of the main representatives of this combined symbolic pseudonym, Vladimir Zhemchuzhnikov. At the time when the creations of Kuzma Prutkov were being written, the friendly company, which he represented, partly aristocratic, was doing various practical buffoonery in Petersburg, which, if I am not mistaken, was said in the literature about Kuzma Prutkov. These were not only simple pranks of carefree and spoiled young people; at the same time, there was partly instinctive, partly conscious desire to laugh in the suffocating atmosphere of time. The very creations of Kuzma Prutkov seemed to want to be an example of serious, even thoughtful, as well as modest and well-meaning literature, which would not violate the strict requirements of the "secret committee".

This is how the circle of “friends of Kozma Prutkov” was united with a large circle of writers grouped around Sovremennik. Did Alexei Tolstoy take part in the sometimes immodest amusements of some of them? Unlikely. He is not a prude, but in the manifestations of his sense of humor, he never crossed the line separating irony from cynicism. Chaste by nature, he even considers Musset immoral and threatens that if he finds a copy of his works on Sophia Andreevna's table, he will "no longer sprinkle him with turpentine, but tar."

Without interrupting the story of Alexei Konstantinovich's love, about his literary connections, we recall that terrible events had already loomed, that the thought of our hero was more and more occupied with a phenomenon whose name is war!