Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol. Notes of the crazy, the main character, the plot, the history of the creation of the St. Petersburg story of Gogol notes of the crazy read

The titular adviser to Akseniyi Ivanovich Prekrshchin, forty-two years, leads his diary records for four more months.

On the rainy day of Tuesday of the third of October 1833, the Parcinchin in his old-fashioned overcoat is sent, having fallen out, for the unloved service in one of the branches of the St. Petersburg Department in the hope ex. On the way, I notices the carriage-up to the store, from which the Adorable daughter of the Director of the Department is evaporated, where it serves. The hero inadvertently overhears the conversation of the daughter's dog's dog with a dog's swaddle, owned by two ladies passing. I was surprised at this fact, Poprishchin, instead of service, goes for the ladies and finds out that they live in the fifth floor of the house of Zvorkov that the Kokushkin bridge.

The next day, PRACHINS, Cleansing feathers in the director's office, accidentally meets his daughter, which is becoming more hot. He even gives her a handkerchief fell on the floor. During the month, its immodest behavior and fence relative to this young personality becomes noticeable for others. Head of the Department even speaks him. Nevertheless, the copyright will secretly penetrate the house of His Excellency and, wanting to familiarize something about the lady, comes into a conversation with a dog member. The last of the conversation evades. Then the copyright goes to the house of Zverkova, rises to the sixth floor (the mistake of Gogol!), Where the dog of Fidelka lives with her mistresses, and stealing small pieces of paper from her corner. This turns out to be as assumed by Parotchin, the corresponding two dog friends, from which he learns a lot of important: about awarding the Director of the Department, the next order, about courting for his daughter, which is called Sophie, a certain chamber-janker Teplov and even About himself, perfect freak like "Turtles in a bag", at the form of which Sophie cannot resist laughter. These notes of the dogs, like the whole prose of Gogol, are full of mention of many random characters, like a certain bean, similar to his mow on Aist, or Lidina, who is sure that she has blue eyes, while she has green, or Dogs of the hands-up from the neighboring yard, the kind heart of writing these letters of mezhi. Finally, the Parcinchin learns from them that Sophie with the camera-junker is clearly going to the wedding.

Unhappy love to couple with disturbing messages newspapers finally damage the mindset. He is worried about the attempt to abolish the Spanish throne in connection with the death of the king. Well, how is he, Parcinchin, and there is a secret heir, that is, the face is notable, from those that love and honor others? Chukhukka Mavra, who serves as a copper, first recognizes this amazing news. Three more than three weeks of the absenteeism of the Spanish King of Parcinchin comes to his service, the director does not get up, the PRESNAND VIII signature puts on the paper, after which it makes his way to the directory apartment, trying to explain from Sophie, doing the discovery that women fall in love with one trait. Stressful expectation of the Hophan deputies will be allowed to finally arrive at their arrival. But "Spain", in which he will be dismissed, very strange land. There are many of the Grande with shameless heads, they are hit by sticks, dripped on the cold water. Obviously, the Great Inquisition is ruled here, which prevents the leggings to make the great, worthy of his opening post. He writes a tearing letter to Mother with a prayer for help, but a bump under the very nose in Algerian Bay again distracts his poor attention.

The story remained unfinished.

L. N. Tolstoy. Collected Works in twenty volumes. Volume 12. Publisher "Artistic Literature". Moscow. 1964.

Lion Nikolaevich Tolstoy

Diary of a Madman

1883. October 20. Today, they took me to testify to the provincial board, and the opinions were divided. They argued and decided that I was not crazy. But they decided only because I kept all my forces during testimony to not speak. I did not speak out because I'm afraid of a crazy house; I'm afraid there will make me make my crazy business. They recognized me to affects, and something else, but - in the right mind; They recognized, but I know that I am crazy. The doctor prescribed me treatment, assuring me that if I am strictly followed by his regulations, it will pass. All that bothers me will pass. Oh, whatever I gave it to go. Too painfully. I will tell in order, as why it took it to be a survey, as I went crazy and how I gave my madness. Up to thirty-five years I lived like everything, and there was noticeable for me. It is not only in the first childhood, up to ten years, there was something similar to the present condition with me, but also only with seizures, and not as now, constantly. In childhood, I found it a little differently. Namely like this.

I remember, since I went to bed, I was five or six years old. Nanny Eupraxia is high, thin, in a brown dress, with a champper on the head and with drunken skin under the beard, section me and planted in bed.

I myself, I myself, - I spoke and stepped over the perilts.

Well, go to bed, go to bed, Fedenka, - Won Mitya, the clever, already lay down, "she said, showing his head on his brother.

I jumped into bed, all holding her hand. Then he released, chatted under the blanket and wrapped around. And so I feel good. I sat down and thought: "I love the nanny, the nanny loves me and Mitenka, and I love Mitenka, and Mitenka loves me and nanny. And the nanny loves Taras, and I love Taras, and Mitenka loves. And Taras loves me and nanny. And Mom loves me and nanny, and nanny loves mom, and me, and dad, and everyone loves, and everyone is good. " And suddenly I hear the housekeeper runs up and my heart shouts something about the sugardice, and the nanny with a heart says, she did not take her. And it becomes hurt, and scary, and it is not clear, and horror, cold horror finds me, and I hide with your head under the blanket. But in the dark, the blanket does not care. I remember how the boy beat the boy once, how he shouted and what a terrible face was at Foki when he beat him.

And you will not, you will not, - He sentenced and all beat. The boy said: "I will not". And he sentenced "you will not be" and all beat. And then I found on me. I began to cry, sob. And no one could calm me down. Here are these sobs, these despair were the first seizures of my present madness. I remember, another time it found on me when the aunt told about Christ. She told and wanted to leave, but we said:

Tell me about Jesus Christ.

No, now there is no time.

No, tell me, - and Mitenka asked to tell. And the aunt began again the same thing she told us before. She told that he was crucified, beat, tormented, and he prayed and did not condemn them.

Aunt, for what was tormented by him?

Evil people were.

Why he was kind.

Well, it will be, ninth hour. Hear?

Why did they beat him? He forgave, yes for what they beat. It hurt. Aunt, hurt him?

Well, I will, I'll go drink tea.

Or maybe it is not true, it did not beat him.

Well, it will be.

No, no, do not go.

And again I found, sobbed, sobbed, then I began to beat my head against the wall.

So it found me in childhood. But from fourteen years, since he woke up in me, the sex passion and I was given to the vice, it all passed, and I was a boy like all the boys. Like all we, brought up on fatty excessive food, fused, without physical work and with all possible temptations for inflammation of sensuality, and in the environment of the same spoiled children, the boys of my age taught me a vice, and I gave him. Then this vice was replaced by another. I began to know women and so, looking for pleasures and finding them, I lived to thirty five years old. I was completely healthy, and there was no sign of my madness. These twenty years of my healthy life have passed for me so that I now almost remember any of them and remember now with difficulty and disgust.

As all the boys of my circle are mentally healthy, I entered the gymnasium, then at the university, where I finished the course for the Law Faculty. Then I served a little, then I came up with my present wife and married and lived in the village, as they say, brought up children, housing and was the world judge. On the tenth year of my marriage, the first seizure was happening to me after my childhood.

We copied with my wife's money from her inheritance and my evidence for redemption and decided to buy an imbey. I was very involved, as it should be, an increase in our condition and the desire to increase it in the smartest way, better than others. I learned everywhere where the estates were sold, and read all ads in newspapers. I wanted to buy so that the income or forest from the lounge would cover the purchase, and I would have received the damage. I was looking for such a fool, who would not know, and since it seemed to me that I found it. Imaging with large forests was sold in the Penza province. Over all that I found out, it came out that the seller is precisely such a fool and forests will pay off the value of the estate. I gathered and drove. We drove first by rail (I was driving with a rug), then drove on postal crossings. The trip was very cheerful for me. The servant, young, good-natured man, was also fun as me. New places, new people. We drove, having fun. We were two hundred and something to the place. We decided to go without stopping, only change the horses. The night came, we all went. Began to darish. I hurt, but suddenly woke up. I became something scary. And as it often happens, the frightened, lively, - it seems, never fall asleep. "Why am I going? Where am I going? " - I suddenly come to mind. Not that I didn't like the thought of buying cheap estate, but suddenly it was introduced that I didn't need to go to this distance that I would die here in someone else's place. And I became terribly. Sergey, servant, woke up, I took advantage of this to talk to him. I spoke about the local region, he answered, joked, but I was bored. They spoke about home, about how we buy. And I was surprising, as he had fun. All he was good and fun, and I was all pushed. But still, while I spoke to him, I was easier for me. But besides, I was boring, it was terribly, I began to feel the fatigue, the desire to stop. It seemed to me that enter the house, see people, drink tea, and most importantly, it will be easier to fall asleep. We drove to the city of Arzamas.

And what, do not wait here? Relax a little?

Well, excellent.

What, far from the city?

From that versts seven.

The yammer was a power, neat and silent. He drove not soon and boring. We went. I was silent, it became easier for me, because I waited ahead of the rest and hoped that everything would pass there. We drove, drove in the dark, it seemed terribly for me. Drove up to the city. The people all slept. It seemed in the dark of the houses, called the bell and horsepower, especially reflecting, as it happens, near the houses. Houses went to someone else white. And all this was not enough. I waited for the station, samovar and rest - lie down. Here arrived, finally, to some kind of house with a pillar. The house was white, but terribly my sad. So it even became terribly. I got slowly. Sergey Boyko, vividly pulled out what you need, running and knocking on the porch. And the sounds of his legs were injured at me. I entered, there was a corridor, a slespheled man with a stain on the cheek, the stain it seemed to me terrible, showed the room. Gloomy was room. I entered, I still became a tricky.

Is there no room, to relax?

There are numbers. He is.

Purely elevated square room. As I remember, I was painful for me that this room was exactly square. The window was one, with curtain, - red. Table of Karelian birch and sofa with curved sides. We entered. Sergey arranged Samovar, poured tea. And I took the pillow and lay down on the sofa. I did not sleep, but he listened like Sergey drank tea and called me. I was scared to get up, walking sleep and sit in this room scary. I did not get up and began to rip off. True, and tricken, because when I woke up, there was no one in the room and was dark. I was again just awakened as on the cart. To fall asleep, I felt there was no possibility. Why I drove here. Where am I drove myself. What, where do I run away? - I run away from something terrible and I can not escape. I always with myself, and I am painful to myself. I, here he, I'm all here. Neither Penza, nor any imbey will add anything and will not bother me. And I, I'm tired of myself, unanimous, painful himself. I want to fall asleep, forget and I can not. I can not get away from myself. I went to the corridor. Sergey slept on a narrow bench, throwing her hand, but slept sweetly, and the watchman with a stain slept. I went out into the corridor, thinking to escape from what tormented me. But it came out for me and overshadowed everything. I also had even more scary. "What is it for nonsense," I said to myself. "What am I still, what I'm afraid." "Me," the voice of death answered silently. - I'm here". Frost shed me on the skin. Yes, death. She will come, she's she, and it should not be. If I had really been really death, I could not experience what I experienced, then I would be afraid. And now I was not afraid, but I saw that death comes, and at the same time he felt that she should not be. My whole being felt the need, the right to life and at the same time the death is committed. And this inner spray was terrible. I tried to shook this horror. I found a copper candlestick with a candle burnt and lit her. Red fire candle and her size, a little less candlestick, everything said the same. There is nothing in life, but there is death, and it should not be. I tried to think about what took me: about buying, about my wife - nothing was not only fun, but all this became nothing. Everything flashed horror for his dying life. We must fall asleep. I went. But just hammered, suddenly jumped from horror. Both longing, and longing, the same spiritual longing, which happens before vomiting, only spiritual. Terribly, scary, it seems that death is scary, but remember, think about life, then the dying life is scary. Somehow life and death merged into one. Something spreading my soul to the part and could not be sprinkled. Once again, I looked at the sleeping, once again tried to fall asleep, the same horror is red, white, square. It takes something, and not breaking. It is painful, and painfully dry and viciously, nor a drop of kindness I did not feel in myself, but only even, calm anger on myself and that I did. What did I do? God, speak, God. Pray, I remembered. I have long, twenty years old, did not pray and did not believe anything, despite the fact that for the decency of the Govel every year. I began to pray. Mr. Hermit, Our Father, Virgin, I began to compose prayers. I began to baptize and bow to the ground, looking around and fear that they would see me. As if it was entertaining me, the fear was entertaining that they would see me. And I lay down. But it was worth me to lie down and close the eyes, as again the same feeling of horror pushed, raised me. I could no longer tolerate, woke up the guard, woke up Sergey, ordered to lay, and we went. In the air and in motion it became better. But I felt that something new ruled me on the soul and poisoned the whole former life.

By night, we arrived at the place. All day I fought with my longing and overlooking her; But in the shower there was a terrible sediment: some misfortune happened to me, and I could only forget him for a while; But it was there at the bottom of the soul and owned me.

We arrived in the evening. An old manager, although it is not joyful (it was annoying that it was for sale), but he accepted me well. Clean rooms with upholstered furniture. New brilliant samovar. Large tea dishes, honey to tea. Everything was fine. But I, like an old forgotten lesson, reluctantly asked him about the imbey. Everything was sad. Night, however, I fell asleep without longing. I attributed this to the fact that I prayed again overnight. And then began to live as before; But the fear of this longing hung over me since then always. I had to not stopping and, most importantly, in the usual conditions to live, as a student in habit, not thinking about the lesson learned by heart, so I had to live, so as not to get into the power of this terrible, which appeared for the first time in Arzamas Toski. I returned home safely, I didn't bought it, I did not bother money, and began to live as before, with the difference only that I began to pray and go to church. I still seemed to me, but no longer still, as I now remember. I lived first started, continued to roll on the previously laid by the rails for the same force, but I didn't undertake anything new. And before, I had already begun, I already have less participation. I was all boring. And I became divesed. And the wife noticed it and sworn and drank me for it. Movies did not repeat at home. But since I went unexpectedly to Moscow. In the afternoon gathered, I drove in the evening. It was about the process. I arrived in Moscow fun. Dear talked to the Kharkov landowner about the economy, about banks, about where to stay, about theaters. We decided to stop together at the Moscow Foreway, on Myasnitskaya, and now go to Faust. We arrived, I entered a small number. The heavy smell of the corridor was in my nostrils. The janitor made a suitcase. Corridian girl lit candle. The candle fell down, then Fire Droke, as always happens. In the next room coughed someone - right, the old man. The girl came out, the janitor stood, asking, do not unleash. The fire came to life and illuminated blue with yellow stripes wallpaper, partition, cutting table, sofa, mirror, window and narrow size of the entire number. And suddenly the Arzamas horror moved in me. "My God, how I will spend the night here," I thought.

Decisions, please, dove, - I said to the janitor to delay it. "Singing as soon as possible, and in the theater."

The janitor untied.

Please, dove, go to Barina in the eighth room, came with me, say that I am now ready and come to him.

The janitor came out, I began to rush to dress, fearing to look at the walls. "What kind of nonsense, I thought," what I'm afraid, exactly the child. " I am not afraid of ghosts. Yes, ghosts ... it would be better to be afraid of ghost than what I am afraid. - What? "Nothing ... yourself ... well, nonsense." However, I put on a rigid, cold starchy shirt, crushed the cufflinks, put on sternuk, new shoes and went to the Kharkiv landowner. He was ready. We went to Faust. He still drove to curling. I have cropped up from a Frenchman, chat with a Frenchman, bought gloves, everything was fine. I forgot completely the number of the oblong and partition. The theater was also nice. After the theater, the Kharkiv landowner suggested going to dinner. It was out of my habits, but when we left the theater and he offered me this, I remembered the partition and agreed.

In the second hour we returned home. I drank unusual two glasses of wine; But it was cheerful. But just that we entered the corridor with a wrapped lamp and covered me the smell of the hotel, the cold of horror ran my back. But there was nothing to do. I shook my hand comrade and entered the room.

I spent a terrible night, worse by Arzamas, only in the morning, when an old man began to cough outside the door, I fell asleep, and not in bed, in which I went down several times, but on the sofa. All night I suffered unbearably, again painfully burst the soul with the body. "I live, lived, I have to live, and suddenly death, the destruction of everything. Why is life? Die? Kill yourself now? I'm afraid. Wait for death when will come? I'm afraid even worse. Live, began to be? What for? To die. " I did not leave this circle. I took the book, read. For a minute forgot, and again the same question and horror. I went to bed, closed my eyes. Even worse. God did it. What for? - They say: do not ask, and pray. Well, I prayed. I now prayed, again as in Arzamas; But there after I just prayed in childish. Now the prayer did not mean. "If you are, open me: why, what am I?" I bowed, I read all the prayers that I knew, composed myself and added: "So open". And I calmed down and waited for a response. But there was no answer, as if there was no one who could answer. And I remained alone, myself. And I gave myself answers to the one who did not want to answer. Then, to live in the future life, I answered myself. So why this ambiguity is this torment? I can not believe in the future life. I believed when I did not ask with all my soul, and now I can not, I can not. If you were, you would tell me, people. But not you, there is one despair. And I do not want, I do not want it. I was indignant. I asked him to open the truth to me, open myself. I did everything that everyone do, but he did not open. Ask, and will give you, I remembered, and I asked. And in this past, I found no consolation, but a rest. Maybe I did not ask, I refused him. "You're on a span, and he is from you to the soot." - I did not believe in him, but I asked, and he still did not open anything to me. I was considered to be with him and condemned him, I just did not believe.

Another day, I used all the forces to end all things and get rid of the night and in the room. I did not finish everything and returned home on the night. There was no longing. This Moscow night has changed even more my life, which began to change from Arzamas. I still knew how to do business, and I found apathy. I began to weaken and health. The wife demanded that I was treated. She said that my senses about faith, God originated from illness. I knew that my weakness and illness came from an unresolved question in me. I tried not to give the go to this issue and in our usual conditions tried to fill my life. I went to church on Sundays and holidays, I wasged, I even fastened how I got it from a trip to Penza, and prayed, but more like a custom. I did not expect anything from this, as if I didn't break the bill and protested it on time, despite the fact that I knew the inability to get on the bill. Did it only just in case. My life I was filled with no farm, it repelled me with my struggle - there was no energy, - and reading magazines, newspapers, novels, cards in a small, and the only manifestation of my energy was the hunt for an old habit. I had a hunter all my life. Once came in winter a neighbor hunter with hounds on wolves. I went with him. In place, we began to ski and went to place. Hunting was unsuccessful, wolves broke through the area. I heard it from afar and went through the forest to follow a fresh hare trail. Footprints took me far into the glade. In the meadow I found it. He jumped up so that I did not see. I went back. Went back a large forest. The snow was deep, skiing, the swirls were confused. All the gloover and the gloover became. I began to ask where I, the snow changed everything. And I suddenly felt that I was lost. To the house, to hunters far, do not hear anything. I'm tired, all in sweat. Stop - freeze. Go - forces weaken. I shouted, everything is quiet. No one responded. I went back. Again not that. I looked. Around the forest, do not understand where the east, where the West. I went back again. Legs are tired. I was afraid, stopped, and I found all the Arzamas and Moscow horror, but a hundred times more. The heart was thorn, hands, legs trembled. Death here? I do not want. Why death? What is death? I wanted to interrogate, reproach God, but here I suddenly felt that I would not dare, I should not, what to reckon with him it is impossible, that he said that I needed that I am alone. And I began to pray his farewell and myself became a fortune. Horror continued not long. I stood, woke up and went one way and soon came out. I was not far from the edge. I went to the edge, on the road. Hands and legs still trembled and the heart beat. But I was happily. I reached hunters, we returned home. I was cheerful, but I knew that I had something joyful that I would figure out when I was alone. So it happened. I stayed alone in my office and praying, asking for forgiveness and remembering my sins. They seemed to me little. But I remembered them, and they began to diverge me.

Since then, I started reading the Scripture. The Bible was incomprehensible to me, seductive, the gospel fell me. But most of all I read the lives of saints. And this reading consoled me, presenting examples that everything is possible and more opportunities seemed to imitate. From this time, even less and family and family and family were even less and less. They even repelled me. Everything did not seem to me. How, that was, I did not know, but what was my life, ceased to be it. Again on the purchase of estates I learned it. It was sold not far from us very profitable imbey. I went, everything was fine, profitable. It was especially profitable that the peasants of the Earth had only gardens. I realized that they should have been the task behind the pastia to clean the fields of the landowner, so it was. I appreciated all this, I liked it all about the old habit. But I drove home, met an old woman, asked about the road, talked to her. She told about her need. I came home and when I began to tell my wife about the benefits of the left, suddenly he was ashamed. I became Merzko. I said that I can't buy this property, because our benefit would be based on poverty and mountain of people. I said it, and suddenly I enlightened the truth of what I said. The main thing is the truth that men also want to live like we, that they are people - the brothers, the sons of the Father, as stated in the Gospel. Suddenly, as something for a long time, scum. I broke away from me, it was precisely born. Wife was angry, scolded me. And I became joyful. It was the beginning of my madness. But my complete madness began even later, a month after that. It began with the fact that I went to the church, stood the dinner and prayed well and listened, and was soiled. And suddenly I brought me to see, then went to the cross, they began to push, then there were beggars at the exit. And I suddenly clearly became that this should not be. Not only should this be that this is not, but there is no, then there is no death and fear, and there is no more former breaking in me, and I'm not afraid nothing. There was already completely light illuminated me, and I became what is. If there is nothing, it is not primarily in me. Immediately on Peniti, I distributed that I had, thirty-six rubles, begging and went home on foot, talking to the people.

Notes

« Diary of a Madman" The idea of \u200b\u200bthe story was originated in 1884: in the diary of Tolstoy in the record of March 30, it was noted: "Note the notaging notes. As alive I survived them "(t. 49, p. 75-76). The preserved passage called the writer "Notes of Crazy," belongs to April 1884. The story was left unfinished, but Tolstoy several times (in 1887, 1888, 1896, 1903) returned to the thought of its completion.

The story is autobiographical. In September 1869, Tolstoy traveled to the Penza province to buy estates. In Arzamas, where a stop for overnight stay was made, he survived a state similar to that he was experiencing the main acting face of "notes of the crazy." About this "Arzamas horror" Tolstoy reported to his wife on September 4, 1869: "There were two nights, I was tired of scary, I wanted to sleep, and nothing was hurt. But suddenly I found melancholy, fear, horror, such as I never experienced "(vol. 83, p. 167).

Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol

Diary of a Madman

October 3.

Today's unusual adventure happened. I got up in the morning pretty late, and when the Morai brought me sacrificed boots, I asked what time it was. Hearing that there were ten years long ago, I hurried to get dressed as soon as possible. I confess, I would not at all go to the department, knowing in advance which acid mine will make our head of the department. He has long been talking to me: "What is it, Brantz, always in my head, Elash is so? You sometimes rush like a tremendous one, sometimes you still confuse that Satan himself will not discern, in the title you will put a small letter, you will not set any numbers or numbers. " Cursed heron! He, right, envies what I am sitting in the director of the office and purify feathers for His Excellency. In a word, I would not go to the department, if it were not for the hope of seeing the treasurer and may not be accepted from this Jew at least some of the salary forward. Here is another creation! So that he dared for a month for the month of money - Lord My God, and rather a terrible court will come. Ask, although it is crazy, though be in bulk, - will not give out, gray feathers. And the apartment has its own kitchers across his cheeks. It is known to all the world. I do not understand the benefits to serve in the Department. No completely resources. Here in the provincial board, civil and government chambers is another matter: there, you look, other pressed in the corner itself and pains. Frachishka on him is a nasty, the face of such a thing that I want to spit, and see what kind of cottage he hires! Porcelain steamed cup and not carrying him: "It says, doctoral gift"; And let him go a couple of fries, or trees, or beaver rubles in three hundred. It seems so quiet, says it is so delicate: "Write a roach a feather a fence", and it will clean it so that only one shirt will leave on the friend. True, we do not have a noble service, cleanliness in all such as it is not to see the provincial board: Tables are made of mahogany, and all the bosses on you. Yes, I confess if it were not for the nobility of the service, I would have left the Department for a long time.

I put the old sinel and took an umbrella, because I was a pouring rain. There was no one on the streets; Only women, covered by sex floors, and Russian merchants under umbrellas, and couriers came across my eyes. Of the noble only our brother, the official caught me. I saw him at the crossroads. I, as I saw him, immediately told himself: "Ego! No, Blue, you are not going to the Department, you hurry to go for that that runs ahead, and you look at her legs. " What kind of feast is our brother official! To her, God, will not give way to any officer: pass anyone in the hat, it will certainly hoo. When I thought it, I saw an arrogant carriage to the store, by which I passed. I now recognized her: it was the coach of our director. But he has no reason to store, I thought: "True, this is his daughter." I pressed against the wall. Lackey took the doors, and she spoiled from a carriage like a bird. As she looked to the right and left, as his eyebrows and eyes flashed ... Lord, my God! I disappeared, disappeared at all. And why do she go to such a rain time! Arrive now that women are not a lot of passion to all these rags. She did not recognize me, and I myself deliberately tried to wrap up as much as possible, because I had a sinel very blurred and more than an old style. Now the raincoats are worn with long collars, and they were short, one on the other; Yes, and the cloth is not accustomed at all. Doggymka her, do not have time to jump in the door of the store, remained on the street. I know this dog. Her name is Medzhi. I did not have time to stay a minute, when I suddenly hear a thin voice: "Hello, meals!" Here you are on! Who is speaking? I watched and saw under the umbrella of the seed two ladies: one old woman, another young; But they have already passed, and near me again it ran out: "Sin to you, Medzhi!" What the hell! I saw me sickly sniffed with a dog, a ladder for ladies. "Ege! - I said myself. - Yes, I'm full, I'm not drunk? Only it seems to be with me rarely happens. " "No, Fidel, you think in vain," I saw myself that I said, "I was, AB! AV! I was, av, av, av! Very sick. " Oh, you, a dog! I confess, I was very surprised, having heard her talking humanly. But after, when I realized everything well, then I stopped wondering. Indeed, many similar examples have already happened in the world. They say, in England, a fish flew out, which said two words on such a strange language, that scientists have been trying to define three years for three years and have not yet opened anything. I also read the newspapers about two cows that came to the shop and asked them a pound of tea. But, I confess, I was much more surprised when Kezhi said: "I wrote to you, Fidel; True, the Polcan did not bring my letters! " Yes, so I did not get a salary! I still did not hear in my life so that the dog could write. Only nobleman can write correctly. It, of course, some and bidders and even the serfs are sometimes folded; But their writing is a part of the mechanical part: neither commas, nor points, no syllable.

It surprised me. I confess, from recently, I begin to sometimes hear and see such things that no one has not yet drank and did not hear. "I'll go," I said myself, "for this dog and find out what she is and what it thinks."

I turned my umbrella and went for two ladies. They switched to the pea, touched in the mesh, from there to the carpentry, finally the bridge and stopped to Kokushkin and stopped in front of a large house. "I know this house," I said myself. - This is the house of Zvorkov. " Eca car! What kind of people do not live in it: how much cooks, how many visitors! And our brothers officials - like dogs, is sitting on another. There is also one friend who plays well on the pipe. Ladies rose into the fifth floor. "Well," I thought, "I will not go, but I note the place and in the first case it is not a premium."

October 4.

Today, SERDOW, and therefore I was from our boss in the office. I did the first to come early and, sowing, reread all the feathers. Our director must be a very clever man. The whole office is stitched by cabinets with books. I read the name of some: all the scholarship, such a scholarship, that our brother and the attack is not: all or in French, or in German. And to look in the face of him: Fu, what kind of importance shines in the eyes! I have never heard him to say an excess word. Only unless you serve paper, asks: "What is on the courtyard?" - "Raw, Your Excellency!" Yes, not our brother Chet! State man. I notice, however, that he especially loves me. If my daughter ... eh, tube! .. Nothing, nothing, silence! I read the "bee". EKA stupid people French! Well, what do they want? I would take it to God, of them all, and the password of the rogue! There was also a very pleasant image of the ball, described by a Kursk landlord. Kursk landowners write well. After that, I noticed that I already beat half the first, and our did not come out of his bedroom. But about half of the second happened the incident that no pen will describe. Opened the door, I thought the director, and jumped out of the chair with the papers; But it was she, she herself! Saint, how she was dressed! The dress on her was white, like a swan: Fu, what a magnificent! And how I looked: the sun, by God the sun! She bowed and said: "Dad but There was no? " Ah ah ah! What a voice! Canary, right, canary! "Your Excellency," I wanted to say, "do not order to execute, and if you already want to execute, I complain about your general hand." Yes, damn it, somehow the language did not turn, and I only said: "No, no," She looked at me, on the book and dropped a handkerchief. I rushed with all my legs, slipped on the cursed floor and slightly dismissed the nose, but I resicided and got a handkerchief. Saints, what a handkerchief! The finest, battered - amber, perfect amber! So breathes from him to general. She thanked and smiled a little bit, so that sugar sponges almost did not touch her, and after that he left. I sat another hour, as suddenly came by Lackey and said: "Go, Aksente Ivanovich, home, Barin has already left the house." I can't stand the Lacéic circle: always falls apart in the front, and at least I would bother to nodding. This is not enough: once one of these features decided me, without getting off the place, sweep the tobacco. Do you know, a stupid coaster that I am an official, I am noble origin. However, I took the hat and put on the sinel myself, because these gentlemen will never be served, and came out. At home, the part was lying on the bed. Then I rewrote very good poems: "Downturns are not seeing, I thought, I didn't see a year; My life is hazardous, lodge to live me, I said. " Must be Pushkin an essay. Immediately, having wrapped around in Shinel, went to the entrance of her Excellency and waited a long time, whether it would not go to the carriage to look at another time - but no, did not come out.

October 3.

Today's unusual adventure happened. I got up in the morning pretty late, and when the Morai brought me sacrificed boots, I asked what time it was. Hearing that there were ten years long ago, I hurried to get dressed as soon as possible. I confess, I would not at all go to the department, knowing in advance which acid mine will make our head of the department. He has long been talking to me: "What is it, Brantz, always in my head, Elash is so? You sometimes rush like a tremendous one, sometimes you still confuse that Satan himself will not discern, in the title you will put a small letter, you will not set any numbers or numbers. " Cursed heron! He, right, envies what I am sitting in the director of the office and purify feathers for His Excellency. In a word, I would not go to the department, if it were not for the hope of seeing the treasurer and may not be accepted from this Jew at least some of the salary forward. Here is another creation! So that he dared for a month for the month of money - Lord My God, and rather a terrible court will come. Ask, although it is crazy, though be in bulk, - will not give out, gray feathers. And the apartment has its own kitchers across his cheeks. It is known to all the world. I do not understand the benefits to serve in the Department. No completely resources. Here in the provincial board, civil and government chambers is another matter: there, you look, other pressed in the corner itself and pains. Frachishka on him is a nasty, the face of such a thing that I want to spit, and see what kind of cottage he hires! Porcelain steamed cup and not carrying him: "This," says, "Doctor's Gift"; And let him go a couple of fries, or trees, or beaver rubles in three hundred. It seems so quiet, says it is so delicate: "Write a bundle to repair a feather", - and there it will clean it so that only one shirt will leave on the beer. True, we do not have a noble service, cleanliness in all such as it is not to see the provincial board: Tables are made of mahogany, and all the bosses on you. Yes, I confess if it were not for the nobility of the service, I would have left the Department for a long time.

I put the old sinel and took an umbrella, because I was a pouring rain. There was no one on the streets; Only women, covered by sex floors, and Russian merchants under umbrellas, and couriers came across my eyes. Of the noble only our brother, the official caught me. I saw him at the crossroads. I, as I saw him, immediately told himself: "Ego! No, Blue, you are not going to the Department, you hurry to go for that that runs ahead, and you look at her legs. " What kind of feast is our brother official! To her, God, will not give way to any officer: pass anyone in the hat, it will certainly hoo. When I thought it, I saw an arrogant carriage to the store, by which I passed. I now recognized her: it was the coach of our director. "But he has no reason to store," I thought, "right, this is his daughter." I pressed against the wall. Lackey took the doors, and she spoiled from a carriage like a bird. As she looked to the right and left, as his eyebrows and eyes flashed ... Lord, my God! I disappeared, disappeared at all. And why do she go to such a rain time. Arrive now that women are not a lot of passion to all these rags. She did not recognize me, and I myself deliberately tried to wrap up as much as possible, because I had a sinel very blurred and more than an old style. Now the raincoats are worn with long collars, and they were short, one on the other; Yes, and the cloth is not accustomed at all. Doggymka her, do not have time to jump in the door of the store, remained on the street. I know this dog. Her name is Medzhi. I did not have time to stay a minute, when I suddenly hear a thin voice: "Hello, meals!" Here you are on! Who is speaking? I watched and saw under the umbrella of the seed two ladies: one old woman, another young; But they have already passed, and near me again it ran out: "Sin to you, Medzhi!" What the hell! I saw me sickly sniffed with a dog, a ladder for ladies. "Ege!" I said myself: "Yes, if I'm not drunk? Only it seems to be with me rarely happens. " - "No, Fidel, you think in vain," I saw myself that I said: "I was, av! AV! I was, av, av, av! Very sick. " Oh, you, a dog! I confess, I was very surprised, having heard her talking humanly. But after, when I realized all this good, then I stopped wondering. Indeed, many similar examples have already happened in the world. They say, in England, a fish flew out, which said two words on such a strange language, that scientists have been trying to define three years for three years and have not yet opened anything. I also read the newspapers about two cows that came to the shop and asked them a pound of tea. But, I confess, I was much more surprised when Kezhi said: "I wrote to you, Fidel; True, the Polcan did not bring my letters! " Yes, so I did not get a stroke! I still did not hear in my life so that the dog could write. Only nobleman can write correctly. It, of course, some and bidders and even the fortress people are sometimes adding; But their writing is a part of the mechanical part: neither commas, nor points, no syllable.

It surprised me. I confess, from recently, I begin to sometimes hear and see such things that no one has not yet drank and did not hear. "I'll go," I said myself: "For this dog and find out what she is and what it thinks."

I turned my umbrella and went for two ladies. They switched to the pea, touched in the mesh, from there to the carpentry, finally the bridge and stopped to Kokushkin and stopped in front of a large house. "I know this house," I said myself. "This is the house of Zvorkov." Eca car! What kind of people do not live in it: how much cooks, how many visitors! And our brothers officials - like dogs, is sitting on another. There is also one friend who plays well on the pipe. Ladies rose into the fifth floor. "Good," I thought: "Now I will not go, but I will notice the place and in the first case it is not a premium."

October 4.

Today, SERDOW, and therefore I was from our boss in the office. I did the first to come early and, sowing, reread all the feathers. Our director must be a very clever man. The whole office is stitched by cabinets with books. I read the name of some: all scholarship, such a scholar that our brother and the attack is not: all or in French, or in German. And to look in the face of him: Fu, what kind of importance shines in the eyes! I have never heard him to say an excess word. Only unless you serve paper, asks: "What is on the courtyard?" - "Raw, Your Excellency!" Yes, not our brother Chet! State man. I notice, however, that he especially loves me. If my daughter ... eh, tube! .. Nothing, nothing, silence! I read the "bee". EKA stupid people French! Well, what do they want? I would take it to God, of them all, and the password of the rogue! There was also a very pleasant image of the ball, described by a Kursk landlord. Kursk landowners write well. After that, I noticed that I already beat half the first, and our did not come out of his bedroom. But about half of the second happened the incident that no pen will describe. Opened the door, I thought the director, and jumped out of the chair with the papers; But it was she, she herself! Saint, how she was dressed! The dress on her was white, like a swan: Fu, what a magnificent! And how she looked: the sun, by God, the sun! She bowed and said: "Dad was not here?" Ah, ah, ah! What a voice! Canary, right, canary! "Your Excellency," I wanted to say, "do not order to execute, and if you already want to execute, I complain about your general hand." Yes, damn it, somehow the language did not turn, and I only said: "No, no," She looked at me, on the book and dropped a handkerchief. I rushed with all my legs, slipped on the cursed floor and slightly dismissed the nose, but I resicided and got a handkerchief. Saints, what a handkerchief! The finest, battered - amber, perfect amber! So breathes from him to general. She thanked and smiled a little bit, so that sugar sponges almost did not touch her, and after that he left. I sat another hour, as suddenly came by Lackey and said: "Go, Aksente Ivanovich, home, Barin has already left the house." I can't stand the Lacéic circle: always falls apart in the front, and at least I would bother to nodding. This is not enough: once one of these features decided me, without getting off the place, sweep the tobacco. Do you know, a stupid coaster that I am an official, I am noble origin. However, I took the hat and put on the sinel myself, because these gentlemen will never be served, and came out. At home, the part was lying on the bed. Then I rewrote very good poems: "Downturns are not seeing, I thought, I didn't see a year; My life is hazardous, lodge to live me, I said. " Must be Pushkin an essay. Immediately, having wrapped around in Shinel, went to the entrance of her Excellency and waited a long time, whether it would not go to the carriage to look at another time - but no, did not come out.

In Russian literature, characterians with psychological personality disorders are quite common. And works N.V. Gogol is not the exception. He knew how to penetrate the human soul to show the reader's supervisory suffering of the Russian man. A little strange vision of the surrounding world has greatly influenced the text of his works. The feeling of deep despair is one of the most important motives for his work. The world of his heroes is immersed in madness. But who would have thought that his stories collected in the "Petersburg News" cycle will become a certain little encyclopedia of a "little man", which will open the door to the world into the world, permeated pain and loneliness.

The story was written in 1834, during the period of working on several other stories, later combined into the general cycle "Petersburg Tale". At that time, Nikolai Vasilyevich began very seriously to the work of the writer and saw in her the only meaning of life. He works very much, almost without rest, critics are beginning to say about his work, including V.G. Belinsky.

Then Gogol was passionate about the stories of Odoyevsky from the "House of Crazy" cycle and, perhaps, it was more influenced by the idea of \u200b\u200bhis story. There were also two more literary plans suitable according to the plot: "Notes of a crazy musician", as well as an unplanned comedy "Vladimir 3rd degree." In these works, the plot is traced, similar to the topic in the notes. The focus was the heroes that ended with madmen.

Gogol wrote notes, based on its own observations, while he himself served in the Department. There are elements belonging to the writer's personal life. For example, the "House of Zvertkov" at Kokushkin Bridge is the house in which the writer himself lived at one time.

In the first publication, the work has not passed the censorship constraints, as N.V. Gogol with some kind of disappointment wrote A.S. Pushkin:

Yesterday, a rather unpleasant hook of censorship about the "notes of the crazy" came out yesterday; But, thank God, today a little better; At least I must restrict ourselves to the wedge of the best places ... If it were not for this delay, my book, maybe tomorrow came out.

Genre and direction

"Notes of Crazy" is customary to call the story because of the average volume, concentration on one storyline and a certain number of characters insufficient for novel and redundant to the story. It is written in the genre of diary notes, which the main character wrote over four months.

The direction in which Nikolai Vasilyevich was written, it is difficult to specify. Literary criticism will be called His "Gogol". It originated at the moment when the "Petersburg Tale" appeared, in the 40s, and served as the soil for the emergence of a genuine school. This is one of the conditional names of critical realism, which only began to appear in the Russian literature of the time. The main features of this direction:

• realism of artistic expression;
• the presence of socially significant topics;
• critical attitude to social reality.

Composition

The composition of the story is divided into five parts, in which the voltage increases in the soul of the hero with each new row.

1. It all begins with the story of a rather worthless life of the field and his secret desires.
2. Next, the lattice of the main action: the hero wants to marry the daughters of his boss - Sophie, her beauty struck the poor heart of an unfortunate official.
3. The event is developing, we see the root of madness in the head of the main character, at the moment when it seems to hear the conversation of two dogs on the street, one of which is Sophie's pet. Parcinchin follows animals to learn more about the hostess, and then decides on a rather strange act: steal letters from a basket of one dog and read them. From the letters, he learns about the thermal - the potential groom his beloved, and this news will turn him into despair.
4. The culmination of action takes place at the moment when the hero stops going to the service and begins to imagine, as if he is a hidden heir to the Spanish throne.
5. The story ends quite tragic: the fields are placed in a crazy house, where he faces horrors of the content of mentally ill and is trying to write a letter of his mother asking for help.

Main characters and their characteristics

1. The main character whose notes suggested to read the author - Aksente Ivanovich Poprichn. An official who is engaged in rewriting papers in the Department. Its main work is to fartheart feathers for the Director of the Department. This character very much reminds us by Akakia Akakievich Bashmushkina from the story "Shinel". He is also alone, forty-two years of life never managed to get a family or at least a couple of close friends. Its position is extremely poorly, the hero is constantly ashamed of its old-fashioned dress and itself, including. In his free time, he almost always reads the Northern Bee magazine, lies on the couch and sometimes visits the theater, considering this place with the highest manifestation of this art. In general, his behavior does not seem to the reader strange, but with each new note of doubt about his mental health increase. The surname of the hero is chosen by Gogol not by chance. Poprinchin - comes from the word "field", it is it describes that a manical idea that arose in the head of the ACSENTIC Ivanovich. Throughout the work, he tries convulsively to find the purpose to at least see the meaning of his own existence.
2. Beloved Popropeism - Sophie, Daughter of the Director of the Department. The young, incredibly beautiful girl, belonging to the main hero with a famous fraction of irony. From the letters of two dogs it becomes known that she was superior over Axent Ivanovich, comparing him with an old turtle. Gogol is not trying to specially characterize the heroine, but gives the reader to understand that the individuals from her circle simply cannot be reciprocating the feelings of titular advisors.
3. Heat - Camera-Juncker, about whom Parcinchin also learns from stolen letters. There are no special information about it, in addition to the fact that Sophie gave him his heart.
4. Director Department - A person about which is quite often mentioned in the notes. The immediate head of the Aksenia Ivanovich. At the beginning of the work appeared in the positive light, but after it became known about the upcoming wedding of his daughter with thermal, the opinion changes radically. Parcinchin calls the director of the Mason and a stupid cork that does not have its own opinion.
5. Meji and Fidelka - by no means the latest heroes of the work. It is in conversations and the mysterious correspondence of these dogs that the fantastic side of the story is reflected. Thus, N.V. Gogol wanted to transfer the morals and morality of secular society and what rotten it is actually.

Topics

Little person is the main topic of "notes". This image has repeatedly figured in the Petersburg Hands. Gogol was particularly worried about this problem, as being young, he himself often faced the injustice towards people having a lower rank. When he arrived in St. Petersburg in 1829, it was literally shocked by the existing inequality, which was rooted in society. He personally knew all the pain of a man who lacks money to a new chinel, or a distressed position in the Wednesday of Young Artists, when the drawing classes of the Academy of Arts attended.

That is why Gogol wanted to show the lives of people in inhuman conditions. And the "notes of the crazy" becomes the most tragic work from the entire cycle. Everything that happens to Axentia Ivanovich cannot be called a simple story about the life of the poor man. These are notes, through which insane cries of despair, plenty of help, painful experiences. All the existence of the main character is concentrated only within its own head. Permanent remarks of conscience, loneliness and poverty make it take to step there, where is there no way out. The world of madness, like the Gate of hell, unfolds in front of him and captures on their networks. It is surprising that it is the insanity that the hero has a fairly sound reasoning about his own University.

Problems

A number of rather important problems are addressed in the story. And the problem of the derogatory poverty is one of the main. In the Hero itself, a protest is concluded against unfair public men, where there are no more concepts as "Mind" and "Justice". After all, in such an environment, many people begin to feel oppressed and weak. The moment of rivalry appears and comparing itself with others, which leads to total uncertainty. Condemnation and neglect of those who occupy not the most prestigious positions, in the end, can lead to excitement more serious than one incident in the Department of St. Petersburg.

Another major problem is loneliness. Pritishvo embodies this concept. He will leave everyone, no one wants to understand him. And Gogol is trying to sharpen the reader's attention on the fact that any person, regardless of his social status and monetary state, deserves participation. In each, you can try to see the bright features, each deserves help and support. However, often people who lose their birthmark, do not need anyone. And at the moment when loneliness surrounds from all sides, you can really go crazy.

Meaning

The main idea of \u200b\u200bthe work is to rebuild the existing inequality and oppression towards individual people. Society does not even have time to think about the fact that the breaking of moral obscures can cause someone pain. And the pain of public humiliation becomes doubly worse when a person is trying to cope with her alone and most often loses in this unequal battle.

The author directs its basic thought not only along the path of condemnation of an unfair hierarchical system. It will overlook the medal - crushed in the millstones of ignorance and envy the personality of a small man. Her thoughts are as crayons and vynets as the inner world of talking dogs. What does he want from life? Associate the gentlemen, marry a noble young lady, to enter the selected society that it promises him respect and trembles in the eyes of representatives of the world. His values \u200b\u200bof fake, because they have neither true love, nor the divine spark of the calling, or the purposefulness of the mind. These insignificant and fake phantoms also contribute to the sad finale. Having achieved and wishing them, a man loses herself.

Criticism

About the new story of Gogol Critics more often responded friendly. Then he has already become an influential and noticeable figure in the literary world. His belief was listened, his works willingly published. Many reviewers have solved the greatest talent of the master and described it more than once. Of course, the government press led by Faddeem Bulgarin, the very "northern bee", presented in the text of the book, sarcastically and viciously described the new work of the author, which was also disliked in official circles.

But especially memorable became a positive feedback to the famous critic V.G. Belinsky:

Take the "Notes of the Crazy", this ugly grotesque, this strange, whitewally, the artist, this good-natured mockery over life and a person, a pity for life, a pitiful man, this caricature, in which such a abyss of poetry, such a abyss of philosophy, this mental history of the disease, outlined In the poetic form, amazing in its truth and deepests, a worthy brush of Shakespeare: You are still laughing at the simplest, but already your laughter is dissolved by bitterness; This laughter over crazy, whom nonsense and mix, and excites compassion.

Interesting? Save on your wall!