Aitmatov white steamer content to read. White steamer (H

Plot

The basis of the story revolves around a boy living among strangers, where the only relative (both in blood and in spirit) is his grandfather. His parents left him - his father, according to his grandfather, was a sailor, and his mother went to a distant city.

All his life the boy had a dream to see his father sailing on the White steamer:

He had two stories. One of its own, which no one knew about. The other is the one that my grandfather told. Then none remained. This is what we're talking about

In the story, the grandfather tells many legends and tales about his land. The end of the story is tragic - the boy loses faith in people and sails towards the "White Steamboat" - his dreams:

But you swam away. Did you know that you will never turn into a fish. That you don’t swim to Issyk-Kul, you don’t see a white steamer and you don’t say to him: “Hello, white steamer, it’s me!” ... And also in the fact that a child's conscience in a person is like a germ in a grain; without a germ, the grain does not germinate. And no matter what awaits us in the world, the truth will remain forever, while people are born and die ... Saying goodbye to you, I repeat your words, boy: "Hello, white ship, it's me!"

Criticism and historical assessments of the story

Tale " white steamer» became widely known among readers, mainly for the exaltation of humanism and literary merit

For all the works of Ch. Aitmatov, and for the story "The White Steamboat" in particular, the theme of good and evil is characteristic as the central theme of the writer's work.

The main idea is tragic fate a child who is among hostile people, the "betrayal" of his grandfather, and the destruction of his dream ("fairy tales"):

Living in this complex reality main character story, a seven-year-old boy, divides his world into two dimensions: real world and ancient world, a fantastic world of fairy tales and legends, goodness and justice, which, as it were, compensates for the injustices of reality

Notes

Literature

Ch. Aitmatov. White ship. L.: 1981
Prose of Chingiz Aitmatov in the magazine context of "New World"

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See what the "White steamer" is in other dictionaries:

- "WHITE STEAMBOAT", USSR, Kirghizfilm, 1975, color, 101 min. Melodrama. Based on the story of the same name by Chingiz Aitmatov. Cut off from the world, a seven-year-old boy and six adults live in a protected forest. The boy is alone. Parents are replaced by a connoisseur of folk ... ... Cinema Encyclopedia

Jarg. marine Shuttle. A cruise ship. Nikitina 1998, 312. /i>

White ship. Jarg. marine Shuttle. A cruise ship. Nikitina 1998, 312. /i> Based on the reminiscence of the title of the popular novel by Ch. Aitmatov "White steamboat" ... Big Dictionary Russian sayings

White snow of Russia ... Wikipedia

This term has other meanings, see King (meanings). "King" Flag Russian empire... Wikipedia

Jurma Brielle Flag ... Wikipedia

Crna machka beli machor ... Wikipedia

Black cat, white cat Crna machka beli machor Genre Comedy Director Emir Kusturica Producer Karl Baumgartner ... Wikipedia

Books

White steamer, Chingiz Aitmatov. "White steamboat", "Early cranes", "Piebald dog running along the edge of the sea". These three stories were created at different times, independently of each other, and, probably, neither the author nor the readers of it ...

Chingiz AITMATOVWHITE STEAMBOAT(after the story)

He had two stories. One of its own, which no one knew about. The other is the one that my grandfather told. Then none remained. This is what we're talking about.

That year he was seven years old, he was eighth.

First, a briefcase was purchased. Black leatherette briefcase with a shiny metal clasp that slides under the shackle. With slip pocket for small items. In a word, an unusual most ordinary school bag. This is probably where it all started.

Grandfather bought it in a visiting car shop. The truck shop, driving around with the goods of cattle breeders in the mountains, sometimes looked at them at the forest cordon, in the San-Tashskaya pad.

From here, from the cordon, along the gorges and slopes, the reserved mountain forest rose to the upper reaches. There are only three families on the cordon. But still, from time to time, the mobile shop visited the foresters.

The only boy in all three yards, he was always the first to notice the mobile shop.

- It's coming! he shouted, running to the doors and windows. - The car-shop is coming!

The wheel road made its way here from the coast of Issyk-Kul, all the time through the gorge, the river bank, all the time over stones and potholes. It was not very easy to drive on such a road. Having reached Karaulnaya Hill, it climbed from the bottom of the gorge to a slope and from there it went down a steep and bare slope for a long time to the foresters' yards. Karaulnaya Gora is very close - in the summer almost every day the boy ran there to look at the lake with binoculars. And there, on the road, you can always see everything at a glance - both on foot, and on horseback, and, of course, a car.

That time - and this happened in a hot summer - the boy was swimming in his dam and from here he saw how dusty the car was on the slope. The dam was on the edge of the river bank, on a pebble. It was built by my grandfather from stones. If not for this dam, who knows, maybe the boy would not have been alive for a long time. And, as the grandmother said, the river would have washed his bones long ago and carried them straight to Issyk-Kul, and fish and all kinds of water creatures would have looked at them there. And no one would look for him and kill himself on him - because there is nothing to climb into the water and because it does not hurt anyone who needs him. So far this has not happened. And if it happened, who knows, the grandmother, maybe, really would not have rushed to save. He would still be her own, otherwise, she says, a stranger. And a stranger is always a stranger, no matter how much you feed him, no matter how much you follow him. Alien ... And what if he does not want to be a stranger? And why exactly should he be considered a stranger? Maybe not he, but the grandmother herself is a stranger?

But more about that later, and about the grandfather's dam, too, later...

The boy ran quickly, jumping over the bushes and running around the boulders, if he could not jump over them, and did not linger for a second anywhere - neither near the tall grasses, nor near the stones, although he knew that they were not at all simple. They could be offended and even turn their legs. "The car-shop has arrived. I'll come later," he said as he walked to the "Lying Camel" - that's how he called the red humpbacked granite that had sunk into the ground up to his chest. Usually a boy didn't pass by without patting his "Camel" on the back. He clapped it in a businesslike way, like the grandfather of his short-tailed gelding - so, carelessly, casually; you, they say, wait, and I'll leave here on business. He had a boulder "Saddle" - half white, half black, piebald stone with a saddle, where you could sit on horseback, like on a horse. There was also a stone "Wolf" - very similar to a wolf, brown, with gray hair, with a powerful scruff and heavy forehead. He crawled up to him and took aim. But the most favorite stone is "Tank", an indestructible block near the river on the washed-out bank. So wait, the "Tank" will rush from the shore and go, and the river will boil, boil with white breakers. After all, tanks in the cinema go like this: from the shore into the water - and they went ... The boy rarely saw films and therefore remembered what he saw. Grandfather sometimes took his grandson to the cinema at the state farm breeding farm in a neighboring tract beyond the mountain. That is why the "Tank" appeared on the shore, always ready to rush across the river. There were also others - "harmful" or "good" stones, and even "cunning" and "stupid".

Among the plants, too - "beloved", "brave", "fearful", "evil" and all sorts of others. The prickly bodyak, for example, is the main enemy. The boy fought with him dozens of times a day. But the end of this war was not in sight - the bodyak grew and multiplied. But field bindweeds, although they are also weedy, are the smartest and most cheerful flowers. Best of all they meet the sun in the morning. Other herbs do not understand anything - what is morning, what is evening, they do not care. And bindweeds, only warm the rays, open their eyes, laugh. First one eye, then the second, and then, one by one, all the twists of flowers bloom on the bindweeds. White, light blue, lilac, different ... And if you sit very quietly near them, it seems that when they wake up, they whisper inaudibly about something. Ants - and they know it. In the morning they run through the bindweeds, squint in the sun and listen to what the flowers are talking about among themselves. Maybe dreams tell?

During the day, usually at noon, the boy liked to climb into the thickets of stalky shiraljins. Shiraljins are tall, there are no flowers on them, but they are fragrant, they grow in islands, they gather in a bunch, not letting other herbs close. Shiraljins - faithful friends. Especially if there is some kind of offense and you want to cry so that no one sees, it is best to hide in shiraljins. They smell like a pine forest on the edge. Hot and quiet in shiraljins. And most importantly - they do not obscure the sky. You need to lie on your back and look at the sky. At first, through the tears, almost nothing can be distinguished. And then the clouds will come and do whatever you think of above. The clouds know that you are not feeling well, that you want to go somewhere, go fly away so that no one finds you and that everyone sighs and gasps later - the boy disappeared, they say, where can we find him now? .. And so that this is not it happened that you would not disappear anywhere, that you would lie quietly and admire the clouds, the clouds will turn into whatever you want. From the same clouds, a variety of things are obtained. You just need to be able to find out what the clouds represent.

And it is quiet in shiraljins, and they do not obscure the sky. Here they are, shiraljins, smelling of hot pines...

And he knew all sorts of other things about herbs. To the silvery feather grasses that grew on the floodplain meadow, he treated indulgently. They are eccentrics - feather grasses! Windy heads. Eid soft, silky panicles cannot live without wind. They just wait - wherever it blows, they tend to go there. And they all bow as one, the whole meadow, as if on command. And if it rains or a thunderstorm begins, the feather grasses do not know where to stumble. They rush, they fall, they cling to the ground. If there were legs, they would probably run away wherever they look ... But they are pretending. The storm subsides, and again the frivolous feather grasses in the wind - where the wind is, there they are ...

Alone, without friends, the boy lived in a circle of those simple things that surrounded him, and only a mobile shop could make him forget about everything and headlong run to her. What can I say, a mobile shop is not stones or some kind of herbs for you. What is there just not in the car shop!

When the boy ran to the house, the mobile shop was already approaching the yard, behind the houses. The houses on the cordon faced the river, the courtyard turned into a gentle slope straight to the shore, and on the other side of the river, immediately from the washed-out ravine, the forest rose steeply over the mountains, so that there was only one entrance to the cordon - behind the houses. If the boy had not run in time, no one would have known that the mobile shop was already here.

There were no men at that hour, everyone dispersed in the morning. The women were doing household chores. But then he screamed piercingly, running to the open doors:

– Has arrived! The car shop has arrived! The women got excited. They rushed to look for hidden money. And they jumped out, overtaking one another. Grandma and she praised him:

- Here he is with us, what a big-eyed one!

The boy felt flattered, as if he had brought the mobile shop himself. He was happy because he brought them this news, because he rushed to the backyard with them, because he pushed with them at the open door of the van. But here the women immediately forgot about him. They were not up to it. The goods are different - the eyes ran wide. There were only three women: a grandmother, aunt Bekey - his mother's sister, the wife of the most important person on the cordon, the ranger Orozkul - and the wife of an auxiliary worker Seidakhmat - a young Guldzhamal with her girl in her arms. Only three women. But they fussed so much, sorted and stirred the goods, that the seller of the mobile shop had to demand that they respect the queue and not chatter all at once.

However, his words did not really affect the women. At first they grabbed everything, then they began to choose, then return what was taken away. They put it off, tried it on, argued, doubted, asked dozens of times about the same thing. They did not like one thing, the other was expensive, the third had the wrong color ... The boy stood aside. He got bored. The expectation of something extraordinary disappeared, the joy that he experienced when he saw a mobile shop on the mountain disappeared. The mobile shop suddenly turned into an ordinary car, stuffed with a bunch of different rubbish.

He had two stories. One of its own, which no one knew about. The other is the one that my grandfather told. Then none remained. This is what we're talking about.

That year he was seven years old, he was eighth. First, a briefcase was purchased. A black leatherette briefcase with a shiny metal clasp that slides under the shackle. With slip pocket for small items. In a word, an unusual most ordinary school bag. This is probably where it all started.

The only boy in all three yards, he was always the first to notice the mobile shop.

- It's coming! he shouted, running to the doors and windows. - The car-shop is coming!

But more about that later, and about the grandfather's dam, too, later...

So, he then saw a mobile shop, it was descending from the mountain, and behind it, along the road, dust swirled behind. And so he was delighted, he knew for sure that a briefcase would be bought for him. He immediately jumped out of the water, quickly pulled his trousers over his skinny thighs, and, still wet himself, turning blue - the water in the river was cold - ran along the path to the courtyard in order to be the first to announce the arrival of the mobile shop. The boy ran quickly, jumping over the bushes and running around the boulders, if he could not jump over them, he did not linger anywhere for a second - neither near the tall grasses, nor near the stones, although he knew that they were not at all simple. They could be offended and even turn their legs. “The car-shop has arrived. I'll come later," he said on the move to "The Lying Camel" - that's how he called the red, hunchbacked granite, chest-deep in the ground. Usually a boy didn't pass by without patting his Camel on the back. He clapped it in a businesslike way, like the grandfather of his bob-tailed gelding, so casually, casually: you, they say, wait, and I’ll be away here on business. He had a boulder "Saddle" - half white, half black, piebald stone with a saddle, where you could sit on horseback, like on a horse. There was also a stone "Wolf" - very similar to a wolf, brown, with gray hair, with a powerful scruff and heavy forehead. He crawled up to him and took aim. But the most favorite stone is "Tank", an indestructible block near the river on the washed-out bank. So wait, the “Tank” will rush from the shore and go, and the river will boil, boil with white breakers. After all, tanks in the cinema go like this: from the shore into the water - and they went ... The boy rarely saw films and therefore remembered what he saw. Grandfather sometimes took his grandson to the cinema at the state farm breeding farm in a neighboring tract beyond the mountain. That's why the "Tank" appeared on the shore, always ready to rush across the river. There were also others - "harmful" or "good" stones, and even "cunning" and "stupid".

Among the plants, too - "favorite", "brave", "fearful", "evil" and all sorts of others. The prickly bodyak, for example, is the main enemy. The boy fought with him dozens of times a day. But the end of this war was not in sight - the bodyak grew and multiplied. But field bindweeds, although they are also weedy, are the smartest and most cheerful flowers. Best of all they meet the sun in the morning. Other herbs do not understand anything - what is morning, what is evening, they do not care. And bindweeds, only warm the rays, open their eyes, laugh. First one eye, then the second, and then, one by one, all the twists of flowers bloom on the bindweeds. White, light blue, lilac, different ... And if you sit very quietly near them, it seems that when they wake up, they whisper inaudibly about something. Ants - and they know it. In the morning they run through the bindweeds, squint in the sun and listen to what the flowers are talking about among themselves. Maybe dreams tell?

During the day, usually at noon, the boy liked to climb into the thickets of stalky shiraljins. Shiraljins are tall, there are no flowers on them, but they are fragrant, they grow in islands, they gather in a bunch, not letting other herbs close. The Shiraljins are true friends. Especially if there is some kind of resentment and you want to cry so that no one sees, it is best to hide in shiraljins. They smell like a pine forest on the edge. Hot and quiet in shiraljins. And most importantly - they do not obscure the sky. You need to lie on your back and look at the sky. At first, through the tears, almost nothing can be distinguished. And then the clouds will come and do whatever you think of above. The clouds know that you are not feeling well, that you want to go somewhere or fly away so that no one finds you and that everyone sighs and gasps later - the boy disappeared, they say, where will we find him now? .. And so that this is not it happened that you would not disappear anywhere, that you would lie quietly and admire the clouds, the clouds will turn into whatever you want. From the same clouds, a variety of things are obtained. You just need to be able to find out what the clouds represent.

And it is quiet in shiraljins, and they do not obscure the sky. Here they are, shiraljins, smelling of hot pines...

And he knew all sorts of other things about herbs. To the silvery feather grasses that grew on the floodplain meadow, he treated indulgently. They are eccentrics - feather grasses! Windy heads. Their soft, silky panicles cannot live without wind. They just wait - wherever it blows, they tend to go there. And they all bow as one, the whole meadow, as if on command. And if it rains or a thunderstorm begins, the feather grasses do not know where to stumble. They rush, they fall, they cling to the ground. If there were legs, they would probably run away wherever they look ... But they are pretending. The storm subsides, and again the frivolous feather grasses in the wind - where the wind is, there they are ...

There were no men at that hour, everyone dispersed in the morning. The women were doing household chores. But then he screamed piercingly, running to the open doors:

– Has arrived! The car shop has arrived!

The boy and his grandfather lived on a forest cordon. There were three women on the cordon: a grandmother, aunt Bekey - grandfather's daughter and wife of the main man on the cordon, the guard Orozkul, and also the wife of an auxiliary worker Seidakhmat. Aunt Bekey is the most unhappy in the world, because she has no children, for which Orozkul beats her drunk. Momun's grandfather was nicknamed agile Momun. He earned such a nickname by his invariable friendliness, readiness to always serve. He knew how to work. And his son-in-law, Orozkul, although he was listed as the head, mostly traveled to visit guests. Momun went for cattle, kept an apiary. All my life from morning to evening I have been at work, but I have not learned to make myself respected.

The boy did not remember either his father or mother. Never saw them. But he knew: his father was a sailor on Issyk-Kul, and his mother, after a divorce, left for a distant city.

The boy liked to climb the neighboring mountain and look at Issyk-Kul through his grandfather's binoculars. Toward evening, a white steamer appeared on the lake. With pipes in a row, long, powerful, beautiful. The boy dreamed of turning into a fish, so that only his head would remain his own, on a thin neck, large, with protruding ears. He will swim and say to his father, a sailor: "Hello, dad, I am your son." He will tell, of course, how he lives with Momun. The best grandfather, but not at all cunning, and therefore everyone laughs at him. And Orozkul keeps screaming!

In the evenings, the grandfather told his grandson a fairy tale.

***

In ancient times, the Kirghiz tribe lived on the banks of the Enesai River. Enemies attacked the tribe and killed everyone. Only a boy and a girl remained. But then the children fell into the hands of enemies. The Khan gave them to the Pockmarked Lame Old Woman and ordered to put an end to the Kirghiz. But when the Pockmarked Lame Old Woman had already led them to the bank of the Enesai, a maral maral came out of the forest and began to ask for the children. “People killed my deer,” she said. - And my udder overflowed, asking for children! The pockmarked Lame Old Woman warned: “These are human children. They will grow up and kill your fawns. After all, people are not like animals, they don’t spare each other either. ” But the mother deer begged the Pockmarked Lame Old Woman, and brought the children, now her own, to Issyk-Kul.

The children grew up and got married. A woman went into labor, she suffered. The man was frightened, began to call the mother deer. And then an iridescent ringing was heard from afar. The horned mother deer brought on her horns a baby cradle - beshik. And on the bow of the beshik a silver bell rang. And immediately a woman was born. They named their firstborn in honor of the deer mother - Bugubay. From him came the genus Bugu.

Then a rich man died, and his children decided to install deer horns on the tomb. Since then, there has been no mercy for the deer in the Issyk-Kul forests. And there were no deer. Deserted mountains. And when the Horned Mother Deer left, she said that she would never return.

***

Autumn has come again in the mountains. Along with the summer, the time for visiting shepherds and herdsmen was departing for Orozkul - it was time to pay for offerings. Together with Momun, they dragged two pine logs over the mountains, and because of this, Orozkul was angry with the whole world. He should settle down in the city, they know how to respect a person there. Cultured people ... And for the fact that I received a gift, then I don’t have to carry logs. But the police visit the state farm, the inspection - well, when they ask where the forest comes from and where. At this thought, anger towards everything and everyone boiled in Orozkul. I wanted to beat my wife, but the house was far away. Then this grandfather saw marals and almost came to tears, as if he had met his brothers.

And when it was very close to the cordon, they finally quarreled with the old man: he kept asking for his grandson, a walk of this, to pick him up from school. It got to the point that he threw stuck logs in the river and galloped off after the boy. It didn't even help that Orozkul hit him on the head a couple of times - he escaped, spat out blood and left.

When the grandfather and the boy returned, they found out that Orozkul had beaten his wife and kicked him out of the house, and, he said, he was firing the grandfather from his job. Bekey howled, cursed her father, and the grandmother itched that she should submit to Orozkul, ask his forgiveness, otherwise where would one go in old age? Grandfather is in his hands ...

The boy wanted to tell his grandfather that he had seen deer in the forest - they returned after all! - Yes, my grandfather was not up to it. And then the boy again went into his imaginary world and began to beg the mother deer to bring Orozkul and Bekey a cradle on horns.

In the meantime, people arrived at the cordon behind the forest. And while they were pulling out the log and doing other things, grandfather Momun trotted after Orozkul like a devoted dog. Visitors also saw deer - it is clear that the animals were not frightened, from the reserve.

In the evening, the boy saw in the yard a cauldron boiling on fire, from which a meat spirit emanated. Grandfather stood by the fire and was drunk - the boy had never seen him like that. Drunken Orozkul and one of the visitors, squatting by the barn, shared a huge pile of fresh meat. And under the wall of the barn, the boy saw a horned deer head. He wanted to run, but his legs would not obey - he stood and looked at the disfigured head of the one that just yesterday was the Horned Mother Deer.

Soon everyone was seated at the table. The boy was sick all the time. He heard the intoxicated people champing, nibbling, sniffing, devouring the meat of the mother deer. And then Saydakhmat told how he forced his grandfather to shoot the deer: he intimidated him that otherwise Orozkul would kick him out.

And the boy decided that he would become a fish and never return to the mountains. He went down to the river. And stepped right into the water...

retold

People and horses... Childhood and maturity... The past, seen either through a lyrical haze, or through the ruthless prism of history... The pain of growing up - separation, love, betrayal... The soothing, ancient and eternal beauty of the endless steppe, in which man, merging with nature, becomes wiser. Such are "White steamboat" and "Farewell, Gulsary" - works that are among the best of Chingiz Aitmatov.

Excerpt from a book

He had two stories. One of its own, which no one knew about. The other is the one that my grandfather told. Then none remained. This is what we're talking about.

That year he was seven years old, he was eighth.

The only boy in all three yards, he was always the first to notice the mobile shop.

Rides! he shouted, running to the doors and windows. - The car-shop is coming!

But more about that later, and about the grandfather's dam, too, later...