Narration on behalf of the main character.
My father has died (now dressed “in white and unusually long; the toes of his bare feet are strangely spread out, the fingers of his gentle hands, laid quietly on his chest, are also crooked; his cheerful eyes are tightly covered with black circles of copper coins, his kind face is dark and scares me with his badly bared teeth "). His mother is half naked on the floor next to him. Grandma arrived - “round, big-headed, with with huge eyes and a funny doughy nose; she is all black, soft and surprisingly interesting... she spoke affectionately, cheerfully, smoothly. I became friends with her from the first day."
The boy is seriously ill and has just gotten back to his feet. Mother Varvara: “This is the first time I see her like this - she was always strict, spoke little; she is clean, smooth and big, like a horse; she has a tough body and terribly strong arms. And now she is all somehow unpleasantly swollen and disheveled, everything on her was torn; her hair, which lay neatly on her head in a large light cap, scattered over her bare shoulder..." The mother went into labor and gave birth to a child.
I remembered the funeral. It was raining. There are frogs at the bottom of the pit. They were buried too. He didn't want to cry. He rarely cried from resentment, never from pain. His father laughed at his tears, his mother forbade him to cry.
We went by boat. Newborn Maxim died. He's scared. Saratov. Grandmother and mother went out to bury. The sailor came. When the locomotive blew its whistle, he began to run. Alyosha decided that he also needed to run. Found. Grandmother has long thick hair. She sniffed tobacco. Tells stories well. Even the sailors like it.
We arrived in Nizhny. We were met by grandfather, uncles Mikhail and Yakov, aunt Natalya (pregnant) and cousins, both Sasha, sister Katerina.
He didn’t like anyone, “I felt like a stranger among them, even my grandmother somehow faded and moved away.”
They came to “a squat one-story house, painted dirty pink, with a low roof and bulging windows.” The house seemed large, but was cramped. The yard is unpleasant, hung with wet rags, filled with vats of multi-colored water.
“Grandfather’s house was filled with the fog of mutual enmity of everyone with everyone; it poisoned adults, and even children took in it live participation"The brothers demanded a division of property from their father, the mother's arrival made everything worse. The sons yelled at their father. The grandmother offered to give everything away. The brothers fought.
The grandfather watched the boy closely. It seemed that the grandfather was angry. Made him learn prayers. Natalya taught this. I didn’t understand the words, I asked Natalya, she simply forced me to memorize them, and distorted them on purpose. He had never been beaten before. Sashka was to be flogged for the thimble (the uncles wanted to play a joke on the half-blind master Grigory, Mikhail ordered his nephew to heat up the thimble for Grigory, but his grandfather took it). I was guilty myself. I decided to paint something. Sasha Yakovov suggested painting the tablecloth. Gypsy tried to save her. Grandma hid the tablecloth, but Sasha spilled the beans. They decided to flog him too. Everyone was afraid of their mother. But she did not take her child away; her authority with Alyosha was shaken. They caught him until he lost consciousness. I was sick. Grandfather came to him. He told me how he pulled barges in his youth. Then water flow. They called him, but he didn’t leave. And the boy didn’t want him to leave.
The gypsy offered his hand so that the boy would not be in so much pain. He taught me what to do so that it wouldn’t hurt so much.
Gypsy occupied special place in the house. "Ivanka has golden hands." His uncles did not joke with him as they did with Gregory. They spoke angrily about the gypsy behind their backs. They were so cunning in front of each other so that no one would take him to work. He good worker. They were still afraid that his grandfather would keep him for himself.
Gypsy is a foundling. My grandmother gave birth when she was 18. She got married at 14.
I loved Gypsy very much. He knew how to deal with children, was cheerful, and knew tricks. Loved mice.
On holidays, Yakov loved to play the guitar. Sang an endless sad song. Gypsy wanted to sing, but there was no voice. Gypsy danced. Then grandma is with him.
Uncle Yakov beat his wife to death.
I was afraid of Gregory. He was friends with Gypsy. Still, he offered his hand. Every Friday Tsyganok went for provisions (mostly he stole).
The gypsy died. Yakov decided to put a cross on his wife. Large, oak. The cross was carried by the uncles and Gypsy. “He fell, and he was crushed... And we would have been crippled, but we threw off the cross in time.” The gypsy lay in the kitchen for a long time, bleeding from his mouth. Then he died. Grandmother, grandfather and Gregory were very worried.
He sleeps with his grandmother, who prays for a long time. He speaks not according to what is written, but from the heart. “I really like my grandmother’s god, so close to her,” that I often asked to talk about him. "Talking about God, heaven, angels, she became small and meek, her face became younger, her moist eyes streamed especially warm light". Grandmother said that they were living well. But this is not so. Natalya asked God for death, Grigory was seeing worse and worse, he was going to go around the world. Alyosha wanted to be his guide. Natalya was uncle. Grandmother said that her grandfather also beat her . She told me that she had seen unclean people. And also fairy tales and stories, there were also poems. She knew a lot of them. She was afraid of cockroaches. In the dark I heard them and asked them to kill. I couldn’t sleep like that.
Fire. Grandmother threw herself into the fire for vitriol. Burnt my hands. I loved the horse. She was saved. The workshop burned down. It was not possible to sleep that night. Natalya gave birth. She died. Alyosha felt bad and was taken to bed. Grandma's hands hurt a lot.
The uncles were divided. Yakov is in the city. Michael is across the river. Grandfather bought another house. Lots of tenants. Akulina Ivanovna (grandmother) was a healer. She helped everyone. She gave economic advice.
Grandmother's story: the mother was crippled, but she used to be a famous lacemaker. They gave her freedom. She asked for alms. Akulina learned to weave lace. Soon the whole city knew about her. At 22, my grandfather was already a waterman. His mother decided to marry them.
Grandfather was sick. Out of boredom, I decided to teach the boy the alphabet. He caught on quickly.
Fought with street boys. Very strong.
Grandfather: when the robbers arrived, his grandfather rushed to ring the bells. They chopped it up. I remembered myself from 1812, when I was 12. French prisoners. Everyone came to look at the prisoners, scolded them, but many also felt sorry for them. Many died from the cold. The orderly Miron knew the horses well and helped. And the officer soon died. He treated the child well, even taught him his language. But they banned it.
I never spoke about Alyosha’s father or mother. The children failed. One day, out of the blue, my grandfather hit my grandmother in the face. “He’s angry, it’s hard for him, the old man, everything’s a failure...”
One evening, without saying hello, Yakov burst into the room. He said that Mikhail had gone completely crazy: he tore his ready-made dress, broke the dishes and offended him and Gregory. Mikhail said that he would kill his father. They wanted Varvarino's dowry. The boy had to look outside and say when Mikhail would appear. Scary and boring.
“The fact that mother does not want to live in her family raises her higher and higher in my dreams; it seems to me that she lives in an inn at high road, from robbers who rob rich people passing by and share the loot with the poor."
Grandma is crying. “Lord, have you not had enough good sense for me, for my children?”
Almost every weekend boys ran to their gates: “The Kashirins are fighting again!” Mikhail appeared in the evening and kept the house under siege all night. Sometimes several drunken landowners are with him. They pulled out raspberry and currant bushes and demolished the bathhouse. One day my grandfather felt especially bad. He got up and lit a fire. Mishka threw half a brick at him. Missed. Another time, my uncle took a stake and banged on the door. The grandmother wanted to talk to him, she was afraid that they would mutilate her, but he hit her in the hand with a stake. Mikhail was tied up, doused with water and placed in a barn. Grandmother told grandfather to give them Varino’s dowry. My grandmother broke a bone and a bone setter arrived. Alyosha thought that this was grandmother’s death, he rushed at her and did not let her near her grandmother. He was taken to the attic.
Grandfather has one god, grandmother has another. Grandmother “almost every morning found new words of praise, and this always made me listen to her prayer with intense attention.” “Her god was with her all day, she even talked about him to the animals. It was clear to me that everything easily and submissively obeyed this god: people, dogs, birds, bees and herbs; he was equally kind to everything on earth, equally close ".
One day, the innkeeper quarreled with her grandfather, and at the same time cursed her grandmother. I decided to take revenge. Locked her in the cellar. Grandma spanked me when she realized. She said not to interfere in the affairs of adults; it is not always clear who is to blame. The Lord himself does not always understand. Her god became closer and clearer to him.
Grandfather did not pray like that. “He always stood on the same knot of floorboard, like a horse’s eye, stood silently for a minute, with his arms stretched out along his body, like a soldier... his voice sounds clear and demanding... He beats his chest not too much and insistently asks. .. Now he crossed himself often, convulsively, nods his head, as if butting, his voice squeals and sobs. Later, when I was in synagogues, I realized that my grandfather prayed like a Jew."
Alyosha knew all the prayers by heart and made sure that his grandfather did not miss them; when this happened he gloated. Grandfather's God was cruel, but he also involved him in all matters, even more often than grandmother.
Once the saints saved my grandfather from trouble, it was written in the calendar. My grandfather was secretly engaged in usury. They came with a search. Grandfather prayed until the morning. It ended well.
Didn't like the street. I fought with the street people. They didn't like him. But it didn't offend him. I was outraged by their cruelty. They mocked drunken beggars. The beggar Igosha got Death in his Pocket. Master Gregory went blind. I walked with a little gray old woman and she asked for alms. I couldn't get close to him. Grandma always served it to him and talked to him. Grandmother said that God would punish them for this man. After 10 years, my grandfather himself went and begged. There was also a slutty woman Voronikha on the street. She had a husband. I wanted to get more high rank, sold his wife to his boss, who took her away for 2 years. And when she returned, her boy and girl died, and her husband lost government money and started drinking.
They had a starling. His grandmother took him away from the cat. Taught me how to speak. The starling imitated his grandfather when he read his prayers. The house was interesting, but sometimes there was an incomprehensible melancholy.
Grandfather sold the house to the innkeeper. I bought another one. He was better. There were many lodgers: a Tatar military man with his wife, a cab driver Peter and his dumb nephew Styopa, a parasite Good Delo. “He was a thin, stooped man, with a white face, a black forked beard, kind eyes, and glasses. He was silent, inconspicuous, and when he was invited to dinner or tea, he invariably answered: Good job.” That's what his grandmother called him. “His whole room was littered with some boxes, thick books of a civilian press unfamiliar to me; everywhere there were bottles with multi-colored liquids, pieces of copper and iron, rods of lead. From morning until evening... he was melting lead, soldering some copper things , weighed something on small scales, mumbled, burned his fingers... and sometimes he suddenly stopped in the middle of the room or at the window and stood for a long time, eyes closed, face raised, dumbfounded and speechless.” Alyosha climbed onto the roof and watched him. Good Deed was poor. Nobody in the house liked him. He asked what he was doing. Good Deed offered to climb into his window. He offered to make a drink so that the boy would not come to him anymore. He was offended.
When my grandfather was away, we organized interesting meetings. All the residents were going to drink tea. Funny. Grandmother told a story about Ivan the warrior and Myron the hermit. Good Deed was shocked and said that this story definitely needs to be written down. The boy was drawn to him again. They liked to sit together and be silent. “I don’t see anything special in the yard, but from these elbow pushes and from short words everything visible seems especially significant to me, everything is firmly remembered.”
I went with my grandmother to get water. Five townspeople beat a man. Grandmother fearlessly poked them with the yoke. Good Deed believed him, but said that these cases should not be remembered. He taught me to fight: faster means stronger. His grandfather beat him every time he visited. He was survived. They didn’t like him because he was a stranger, not like everyone else. He stopped my grandmother from cleaning the room and called everyone fools. Grandfather was glad that he survived. Alyosha broke the spoon in anger.
"As a child, I imagine myself as a hive, where there are different simple, gray people Like bees, they bore the honey of their knowledge and thoughts about life, generously enriching my soul with whatever they could. Often this honey was dirty and bitter, but all knowledge is still honey."
Made friends with Peter. He looked like his grandfather. "...he looked like a teenager dressed up as an old man for a joke. His face was woven like a sieve, all made of thin leather flagella; funny, lively eyes with yellowish whites jumped between them, as if living in a cage. His gray hair was curly, his beard curled in rings; he smoked a pipe..." I argued with my grandfather about “which of the saints is holier than whom.” A gentleman settled on their street and shot at people for fun. Almost got into a Good Thing. Peter loved to tease him. One day a shot hit him in the shoulder. He told the same stories as his grandparents. “Various, they are all strangely similar to one another: in each they tormented a person, mocked him, persecuted him.”
On holidays, the brothers came to visit. We traveled across the rooftops and saw a gentleman with puppies. They decided to scare the master and take the puppies. Alyosha should have spit on his bald head. The brothers had nothing to do with it.
Peter praised him. The rest scolded. After this he disliked Peter.
Three boys lived in Ovsyannikov’s house. Watched them. They were very friendly. One day we were playing hide and seek. The little one fell into the well. He saved Alyosha and became friends. Alyosha caught birds with it. They had a stepmother. An old man came out of the house and forbade Alyosha to go to him. Peter lied to his grandfather about Alyosha. War began between Alyosha and Peter. The acquaintance with the barchuks continued. I went secretly.
Peter often dispersed them. “He now looked somewhat to the side and had long ago stopped attending grandma’s evenings; he didn’t treat him to jam, his face was shriveled, the wrinkles became deeper, and he walked swaying, raking his legs like a sick person.” One day a policeman came. He was found dead in the yard. The mute was not mute at all. There was a third one. They admitted that they robbed churches.
Alyosha was catching birds. They didn't walk into the trap. I was annoyed. When I returned home, I found out that my mother had arrived. He was worried. His mother noticed that he had grown up, his clothes were dirty and he was all white from the frost. She began to undress him and rub goose fat on his ears. “... it hurt, but a refreshing, tasty smell emanated from her, and this reduced the pain. I pressed myself against her, looking into her eyes, numb with excitement...” the grandfather wanted to talk to his mother, they drove him away. The grandmother asked to forgive her daughter. Then they cried, Alyosha also burst into tears, hugging them. He told his mother about the Good Deed, about the three boys. “It hurt my heart, I immediately felt that she would not live in this house, she would leave.” His mother began to teach him civic literacy. I learned in a few days. “She began to demand that I memorize more and more poems, and my memory perceived these lines worse and worse, and the invincible desire to alter, distort the poems, choose other words for them grew more and more, more and more angry; I managed this easily - unnecessary words appeared in whole swarms and quickly confused the obligatory, the bookish." Mother now taught algebra (easy), grammar and writing (difficult). “The first days after her arrival she was smart, fresh, but now there were dark spots under her eyes, she walked around unkempt all day, in a wrinkled dress, without buttoning her jacket, this spoiled her and offended me...” The grandfather wanted to marry his daughter. She refused. Grandmother began to intercede. The grandfather brutally beat the grandmother. Alyosha threw pillows, his grandfather knocked over a bucket of water and went home. “I took apart her heavy hair - it turned out that a hairpin had gone deep under her skin, I pulled it out, found another one, my fingers went numb.” She asked me not to tell my mother about this. I decided to take revenge. I cut up the holy calendar for my grandfather. But I didn’t have time to do everything. The grandfather appeared, began to beat him, and the grandmother took it away. Mother appeared. Interceded. She promised to stick everything on the calico. He confessed to his mother that his grandfather beat his grandmother. The mother became friends with the resident and went to see her almost every evening. Officers and young ladies came. Grandfather didn't like it. I drove everyone away. He brought the furniture, put her in her room and locked it. “We don’t need guests, I’ll receive the guests myself!” On holidays, guests came: grandmother’s sister Matryona with her sons Vasily and Victor, uncle Yakov with a guitar and a watchmaker. It seemed that I had once seen him arrested on a cart.
They wanted to marry his mother, but she flatly refused.
“Somehow I couldn’t believe that they were doing all this seriously and that it was difficult to cry. And the tears, and their cries, and all the mutual torment, flaring up often, fading quickly, became familiar to me, excited me less and less, touched me less and less heart".
“...Russian people, due to their poverty, generally love to amuse themselves with grief, play with it like children, and are rarely ashamed of being unhappy.”
“After this story, the mother immediately grew stronger, straightened up tightly and became the mistress of the house, and the grandfather became invisible, thoughtful, and quiet, unlike himself.”
Grandfather had chests with clothes and antiques and all sorts of good things. One day my grandfather allowed my mother to wear it. She was very beautiful. Guests often visited her. most often the Maksimov brothers. Peter and Evgeniy (“tall, thin-legged, pale-faced, with a pointed black beard. His big eyes they looked like plums, he dressed in a greenish uniform with large buttons...).
Sasha's father, Mikhail, got married. The stepmother didn't like it. My grandmother took me in. They didn't like school. Alyosha could not disobey and walked, but Sasha refused to walk and buried his books. Grandfather found out. Both were flogged. Sasha ran away from the assigned escort. Found.
Alyosha has smallpox. Grandma left him vodka. I drank secretly from my grandfather. I told him my father's story. He was the son of a soldier who was exiled to Siberia for cruelty to those under his command. My father was born there. His life was bad and he ran away from home. He hit me hard, the neighbors took it away and hid it. The mother had already died before. Then the father. His godfather, a carpenter, took him. He taught me a craft. Escaped. He took the blind to fairs. He worked as a carpenter on a ship. At 20 he was a cabinet maker, upholsterer and draper. I came to make a match. They were already married, they just needed to get married. The old man wouldn't give up his daughter like that. We decided in secret. My father had an enemy, a master, who started talking. Grandma was trimming the tugs at the shafts. Grandfather could not cancel the wedding. He said that there was no daughter. Then I forgave. They began to live with them, in the garden in the outbuilding. Alyosha is born. The uncles did not like Maxim (father). They wanted information. Lured to a pond for a ride, they pushed me into an ice hole. But the father emerged and grabbed the edges of the ice hole. And the uncles beat me on the hands. He stretched out under the ice, breathing. They decided that he would drown, threw ice at his head and left. And he got out. Didn't turn him in to the police. Soon we left for Astrakhan.
Grandmother's tales were less important. I wanted to know about my father. “Why is my father’s soul worried?”
He recovered and began to walk. I decided to surprise everyone and quietly go downstairs. I saw “another grandmother.” Scary and all green. The mother was matched. They didn't tell him. “Several empty days passed monotonously in a thin stream, the mother left somewhere after the conspiracy, the house was depressingly quiet.” He began to arrange a home for himself in the pit.
“I hated the old woman - and her son - with concentrated hatred, and this brought me many beatings heavy feeling". The wedding was quiet. The next morning the newlyweds left. Almost moved to his hole.
Sold the house. Grandfather rented two dark rooms in the basement of an old house. The grandmother invited the brownie to come with her, but the grandfather did not let him. He said that now everyone will feed themselves.
“Mother appeared after grandfather settled in the basement, pale, thin, with huge eyes and a hot, surprised sparkle in them.” Dressed ugly, pregnant. They stated that everything had burned down. But the stepfather lost everything at cards.
We lived in Sormovo. The house is new, without wallpaper. Two rooms. Grandma is with them. Grandmother worked as a cook, chopped wood, washed floors. They were rarely allowed outside - they fought. Mother beat. Once he said that he would bite her, run into the field and freeze. Stopped. The stepfather was quarreling with the mother. “Because of your stupid belly, I can’t invite anyone to visit me, you kind of cow!” before giving birth to my grandfather.
Then school again. Everyone laughed at his poor clothes. But he soon got along with everyone, except the teacher and the priest. The teacher was pestering. And Alyosha played mischief in revenge. The pope demanded a book. There was no book, so I sent it away. They wanted to kick me out of school for inappropriate behavior. But Bishop Chrysanthos came to the school. The bishop liked Alyosha. The teachers began to treat him better. And Alyosha promised the bishop to be less mischievous.
He told fairy tales to his peers. They said that better book about Robinson. One day I accidentally found 10 rubles and a ruble in my stepfather’s book. I took the ruble. I bought it for him" sacred history" (the priest demanded) and Andersen's fairy tales, also white bread and sausage. He really liked "The Nightingale." His mother beat him and took away his books. His stepfather told his colleagues about this, they found out to the children at school, and called him a thief. The mother did not want to believe that stepfather said: “We are poor, we have every penny, every penny...” Brother Sasha: “Clumsy, big-headed, he looked at everything around with beautiful, blue eyes, with a quiet smile and as if expecting something. He began to speak unusually early, never cried, living in a continuous state of quiet joy. He was weak, could barely crawl and was very happy when he saw me... He died unexpectedly, without being sick...".
Things got better with school. They moved me to my grandfather again. Stepfather cheated on mother. “I heard him hit her, rushed into the room and saw that the mother, having fallen to her knees, leaned her back and elbows on a chair, arching her chest, throwing back her head, wheezing and terribly shining eyes, and he, cleanly dressed, in a new uniform "He hits her in the chest with his long leg. I grabbed a knife from the table... it was the only thing left to my mother after my father - I grabbed it and hit my stepfather in the side with all my might." Maksimov’s mother pushed him away and he survived. He promised his mother that he would kill his stepfather and himself too.
“Our life is amazing not only because the layer of all sorts of bestial rubbish is so fertile and fat in it, but because through this layer the bright, healthy and creative still victoriously grows, the good, the human, grows, arousing an indestructible hope for our rebirth to bright, human life."
Again with my grandfather. Property division. All the pots are for grandma, the rest for yourself. Then he took her old dresses and sold them for 700 rubles. And he gave the money as interest to his Jewish godson. Everything was shared. One day the grandmother cooks from her own provisions, the next - with the grandfather’s money. Grandma always had better food. They even counted tea. It should be the same in strength.
Grandmother wove lace, and Alyosha began to engage in rag work. Grandmother took money from him. He also stole firewood with a group of children. Company: Sanka Vyakhir, Kostroma, little Tatarch Khabi, Yaz, Grishka Churka. Wood pigeon beat his mother if he didn’t bring her money for vodka, Kostroma saved money, dreaming of pigeons, Churka’s mother was sick, Khabi also saved, planning to return to the city where he was born. The wood pigeon made peace with everyone. Still, he considered his mother good and felt sorry for her. Sometimes they folded so that Wood Pigeon wouldn’t hit his mother. Wood pigeon also wanted to know how to read and write. Churka called him over. His mother taught Wood Pigeon. Soon I read it somehow. The wood pigeon felt sorry for nature (it was inconvenient to break something in his presence). Fun: they collected worn-out bast shoes and threw them at the Tatar hookers. Those in them. After the battle, the Tatars took them with them and fed them with their food. IN rainy days gathered at Yazy's father's place in the cemetery. “... I didn’t like it when this man began to list in which house there were sick people, which of the Sloboda residents would soon die - he spoke about this with relish and mercilessness, and seeing that we were unpleasant about his speeches, he deliberately teased and incited us.” .
“He spoke very often about women and always dirty... He knew the life story of almost every Sloboda resident he buried in the sand... he seemed to open the doors of houses for us,... we saw how people live, we felt that something serious and important."
Alyosha liked this independent street life. It was hard again at school, they called me a rag-bag, a beggar. They even said that he smelled. False, I washed myself thoroughly before studying. Successfully passed the 3rd grade exams. They gave me a letter of commendation, the Gospel, Krylov's fables and Fata Morgana. Grandfather said that this should be hidden in the chest, and he was delighted. Grandma was sick. She had no money for several days. Grandfather complained that he was being eaten. I took the books, took them to the store, received 55 kopecks and gave them to my grandmother. He spoiled the certificate of commendation with inscriptions and gave it to his grandfather. He, without unfolding it, hid it in the chest. My stepfather was kicked out of work. He disappeared. Mother and little brother Nikolai settled with their grandfather. “The mute, withered mother could barely move her legs, looking at everything with terrible eyes, the brother was scrofulous... and so weak that he couldn’t even cry...” they decided that Nikolai needed will, sand. Alyosha collected sand and poured it on the hot spot under the window. The boy liked it. I became very attached to my brother, but it was a little boring to be with him. The grandfather fed the child himself and did not feed him enough.
Mother: “she was completely numb, she rarely said a word in a seething voice, otherwise she lay silently in the corner all day and died. That she was dying - I, of course, felt it, I knew it, and my grandfather spoke too often, importunately about death... "
“I slept between the stove and the window, on the floor, it was short for me, I put my legs in the oven, they were tickled by cockroaches. This corner gave me a lot of evil pleasures - while my grandfather was cooking, he constantly knocked out the glass in the window with the ends of his grips and pokers.” Alyosha took a knife and cut off the long arms, his grandfather scolded him for not using a saw, rolling pins might come out. My stepfather returned from a trip, and my grandmother and Kolya moved in with him. Mother died. Before this, she asked: “Go to Evgeniy Vasilyevich, tell him - I ask him to come!” She hit her son with a knife. But the knife escaped from her hands. “A shadow floated across her face, going deep into her face, stretching her yellow skin, sharpening her nose.” The grandfather did not immediately believe that her mother had died. Stepfather came. The grandmother, like a blind woman, broke her face on the grave cross. Wood Pigeon tried to make him laugh. It didn't work out. He suggested covering the grave with turf. Soon the grandfather said that it was time for him to join the people.
Brief retelling
“Childhood” Gorky M.Yu. (Very briefly)
In the story "" M. Gorky spoke about his childhood years, in which his grandmother occupied almost the most important place. Strange, very plump, big-headed, with huge eyes, a loose reddish nose. The boy's grandmother appeared in his life when his father died, and until the end of his days she was always there.
The boy sees and understands that his grandmother is beautiful on the inside, she is soft, affectionate, kind, trying to understand and help in any situation.
Despite her plumpness, the grandmother walked very easily, smoothly and deftly. Her movements were like a cat's.
Grandma had a very pleasant snow-white smile, her eyes flashed with warm light, and her face became young and bright.
Her hair was black, very thick, long and unruly. Therefore, when my grandmother combed her hair with a rare-toothed comb, she usually got angry.
The grandmother spoke cheerfully, smoothly, in a singsong voice. She mentioned God often. Everything she said was warm and affectionate, so the boy became friends with his grandmother from the first day, she became his most faithful and closest friend, the most understanding person. Later he realized that his grandmother was the kind of person who gives her love selflessly; she loves the world as it is.
M. Gorky reverently remembers his grandmother, and perhaps it was his unselfish attitude towards people that helped the writer later endure M. Gorky’s story “Childhood” is autobiographical. Everyone who surrounded Alyosha Peshkov helped the writer grow, albeit with the pain of memories and grievances, but it was a school.
His grandmother Akulina Ivanovna aroused trembling, still unconscious love in the boy. A man of a rich soul, colorful appearance, possessing the wisdom that is characteristic of the Russian people.
Alexey saw his grandmother for the first time when she was “in her sixth decade of summer and spring.” The way I perceived it the world grandma, no one could. From the shore floating past, from the domes of churches sunk in the sky, she could cry or laugh. And who else could tell the boy such tales that the hardened bearded sailors asked: “Come on, grandmother, tell me something else!” For Alyosha Peshkov, grandmother became the light that everyone should have in life. She became his most faithful friend, “the most understandable and closest person.” “She was all dark, but she glowed from within... with an unquenchable, cheerful and warm light.”
Alyosha learned selfless love from his grandmother, since his grandfather’s family, where he unwittingly ended up, lived according to the harsh rules established by his usurper grandfather. It seems that from time to time there is a glimpse of a kind person in him, but the shell snaps shut... and don’t cross, otherwise the reprisal will be with rods. The grandmother knew her grandfather’s character well and was not afraid of him, unlike other family members. She could become a mountain for anyone if her grandfather was wrong.
The house was filled with her warmth, her love and light, living energy. She put her whole soul into caring for her children and grandchildren. The unwanted Gypsy, thrown under the gate of the house, was accepted by the grandmother as if she were her own, she fed the boy and left him. Working from dawn to late at night around the house, grandmother saw everyone and everything that happened around, paying attention to everyone who needed it.
And her heroism during the fire was equal to the elements. Both the flame and the grandmother fought for the workshop. Who will win. She saved what was dear to her, was her home, her household; the fire burned what it considered its prey. The fire was extinguished, the grandmother received burns, but she also found words of consolation for others.
M. Gorky went through the school of generosity and severity, love and malice, but all his life he tried to analyze his actions, give love, and educate himself. And thank fate that he had such a wonderful grandmother.
1913, Nizhny Novgorod. The story is told on behalf of the boy Alyosha Peshkov.
I
My first The second memory is the death of my father. I didn’t understand that my father was no more, but the cry of my mother Varvara was etched in my memory. Before this, I was very ill, and my grandmother Akulina Ivanovna Kashirina came to us, “round, big-headed, with huge eyes and a funny loose nose.” Grandmother sniffed tobacco and was all “black, soft”, like a bear, with very long and thick hair.
On the day my father died, my mother went into premature labor. After the funeral, my grandmother took me, my mother and my newborn brother to Nizhny Novgorod. We went on a steamboat. On the way, my little brother died. Grandmother, trying to distract me, told me fairy tales, which she knew a great many.
In Nizhny we were met by many people. I met my grandfather Vasily Vasilich Kashirin - a small, dry old man “with a red beard like gold, a bird’s nose and green eyes.” Uncles Alyosha, Yakov and Mikhailo came with him and cousins. I didn’t like my grandfather, “I immediately felt an enemy in him.”
II
My grandfather's family lived in a big house, ground floor which was occupied by a dyeing workshop. They didn't live together. Mom got married without a blessing, and now her uncles demanded her dowry from her grandfather. From time to time the uncles fought. The house “was filled with the hot fog of enmity between everyone and everyone.” Our arrival only intensified this enmity. It was very difficult for me, who grew up in a close-knit family.
On Saturdays, the grandfather whipped his grandchildren who had misbehaved during the week. I didn’t escape this punishment either. I resisted, and my grandfather beat me half to death. Afterwards, when I was lying in bed, my grandfather came to make peace. After that, it became clear to me that my grandfather was “not evil and not scary,” but I could not forget and forgive the beatings. Ivan the Tsyganok especially struck me in those days: he put his hand under the rods, and he received some of the blows.
III
Afterwards I became very friendly with these cheerful guy. Ivan the Gypsy was a foundling: his grandmother found him one winter near her house and raised him. He promised to become a good master, and the uncles often quarreled over him: after the partition, everyone wanted to take the Gypsy for themselves. Despite his seventeen years, Gypsy was kind and naive. Every Friday he was sent to the market for groceries, and Ivan spent less and brought more than he should have. It turned out that he was stealing to please his stingy grandfather. Grandmother swore - she was afraid that one day Gypsy would be captured by the police.
Soon Ivan died. In my grandfather’s yard there was a heavy oak cross. Uncle Yakov vowed to take him to the grave of his wife, whom he himself killed. The gypsy fell to carry the butt of this huge cross. The guy overstrained himself and died from bleeding.
IV
Time has passed. Life in the house was getting worse. Only grandmother's tales saved my soul. Grandmother was not afraid of anyone except cockroaches. One evening the workshop caught fire. Risking her life, the grandmother took the stallion out of the burning stable and burned her hands very badly.
V
“By spring, the guys split up,” and the grandfather bought big house, on the ground floor of which there was a tavern. My grandfather rented out the rest of the rooms. There was a dense, neglected garden growing around the house, sloping down into a ravine. My grandmother and I settled in a cozy room in the attic. Everyone loved their grandmother and turned to her for advice - Akulina Ivanovna knew many recipes for herbal medicines. She was originally from the Volga. Her mother was “offended” by the master, the girl jumped out of the window and was left crippled. Since childhood, Akulina went “to people” and begged for alms. Then her mother, who was a skilled lacemaker, taught her daughter her skills, and when fame spread about her, her grandfather appeared. Grandfather staying in good mood, also told me about his childhood, which he remembered “from a Frenchman,” and about his mother, an evil woman with a Kalashnikov.
Some time later, my grandfather began to teach me to read and write using church books. I turned out to be capable of this, and soon I fluently understood the church charter. I was rarely allowed outside - every time the local boys beat me until I was bruised.
VI
Soon our quiet life ended. One evening Uncle Yakov came running and said that Uncle Mikhailo was going to kill his grandfather. From that evening, Uncle Mikhailo appeared every day and caused scandals to the delight of the entire street. So he tried to lure his mother’s dowry out of his grandfather, but the old man did not give up.
VII-VIII
Closer to spring, my grandfather unexpectedly sold the house and bought another one, “on Kanatnaya Street.” The new house also had an overgrown garden with a hole - the remains of a burnt bathhouse. On our left was Colonel Ovsyannikov, and on our right was the Betlenga family. The house was packed interesting people. Particularly interesting to me was a parasite nicknamed Good Deed. His room was full strange things, and he was constantly inventing something. I soon became friends with Good Deed. He taught me to correctly present events, without repeating myself and cutting off all unnecessary things. Grandmother and grandfather did not like this friendship - they considered the parasite a sorcerer, and Good Cause I had to move out.
IX
I was also very interested in Ovsyannikov’s house. In a crack in the fence or from a tree branch, I saw three boys playing in the yard in harmony and without quarrels. One day, while playing hide and seek, the younger boy fell into a well. I rushed to help and, together with the older children, pulled out the baby. We were friends until I caught the eye of the colonel. While he was kicking me out of the house, I managed to call the colonel “an old devil,” for which I was beaten. Since then, the Ovsyannikov Jr. and I communicated only through a hole in the fence.
X
I rarely remembered my mother. One winter she returned and settled in the freeloader’s room. My mother started teaching me grammar and arithmetic. Life was difficult for me in those days. Often the grandfather quarreled with his mother, trying to force her into a new marriage, but she always refused. The grandmother stood up for her daughter, and one day the grandfather severely beat her. I took revenge on my grandfather by ruining his favorite calendar.
The mother became friends with a neighbor, a military wife, who often had guests from the Betlengs’ house. The grandfather also began to organize “evenings” and even found the groom’s mother - a crooked and bald watchmaker. His mother, a young and beautiful woman, refused him.
XI
“After this story, the mother immediately grew stronger, straightened up tightly and became the mistress of the house.” The Maksimov brothers, who migrated to us from the Betlengs, began to visit her often.
After Christmas time I suffered from smallpox for a long time. All this time my grandmother looked after me. Instead of a fairy tale, she told me about her father. Maxim Peshkov was the son of a soldier who “rose to the rank of officer and was exiled to Siberia for cruelty to his subordinates.” Maxim was born in Siberia. His mother died and he wandered for a long time. Once in Nizhny Novgorod, Maxim began working for a carpenter and soon became a renowned cabinetmaker. My mother married him against the will of my grandfather - he wanted to marry his beautiful daughter to a nobleman.
XII
Soon the mother married the youngest Maximov, Evgeniy. I immediately hated my stepfather. Out of frustration, my grandmother began to drink strong wine and was often drunk. In the hole left over from the burnt bathhouse, I built myself a shelter and spent the whole summer in it.
In the fall, my grandfather sold the house and told my grandmother that he would no longer feed her. “Grandfather rented two dark rooms in the basement of an old house.” Soon after the move, my mother and stepfather showed up. They said that their house burned down with all its belongings, but the grandfather knew that the stepfather had lost and came to ask for money. My mother and stepfather rented poor housing and took me with them. Mom was pregnant, and my stepfather was deceiving the workers, buying credit notes for products at half price, which were used to pay at the factory instead of money.
I was sent to school, where I really didn’t like it. The children laughed at my poor clothes, and the teachers did not like me. At that time, I often misbehaved and annoyed my mother. Meanwhile, life became more and more difficult. Mom gave birth to a son, a strange big-headed boy, who soon died quietly. My stepfather has a mistress. One day I saw him hitting his pregnant mother in the chest with his thin and long leg. I swung a knife at Evgeniy. Mom managed to push me away - the knife only cut my clothes and slid along my ribs.
XIII
“I’m at my grandfather’s again.” The old man became stingy. He divided the farm into two parts. Now she and her grandmother even took turns brewing tea. To earn bread, my grandmother took up embroidery and weaving lace, and I and a group of guys collected rags and bones, robbed drunks and stole firewood and planks “in lumberyards along the banks of the Oka River.” Our classmates knew what we were doing and mocked us even more.
When I entered third grade, my mother and little Nikolai moved in with us. The stepfather disappeared somewhere again. Mom was seriously ill. The grandmother went to the house of a rich merchant to embroider a cover, and the grandfather fussed with Nikolai, often underfeeding the child out of greed. I also loved playing with my brother. My mother died a few months later in my arms, without ever seeing her husband.
After the funeral, my grandfather said that he was not going to feed me, and sent me “to the people.”
I dedicate it to my son
I
In a dim, cramped room, on the floor, under the window, lies my father, dressed in white and unusually long; the toes of his bare feet are strangely spread out, the fingers of his gentle hands, quietly placed on his chest, are also crooked; his cheerful eyes are tightly covered with black circles of copper coins, his kind face is dark and scares me with his badly bared teeth. Mother, half naked, in a red skirt, is on her knees, combing her father’s long soft hair from his forehead to the back of his head with a black comb, which I used to saw through the rinds of watermelons; the mother continuously says something in a thick, hoarse voice, her gray eyes are swollen and seem to melt, flowing down with large drops of tears. My grandmother is holding my hand - round, big-headed, with huge eyes and a funny, doughy nose; she is all black, soft and surprisingly interesting; she also cries, singing along with her mother in a special and good way, she trembles all over and tugs at me, pushing me towards my father; I resist, hide behind her; I'm scared and embarrassed. I had never seen big people cry before, and I did not understand the words repeatedly spoken by my grandmother: - Say goodbye to your aunt, you will never see him again, he died, my dear, at the wrong time, at the wrong time... I was seriously ill—I had just gotten back to my feet; During my illness - I remember this well - my father merrily fussed with me, then he suddenly disappeared and was replaced by my grandmother, a strange person. -Where did you come from? - I asked her. She answered: - From above, from Nizhny, but she didn’t come, but she arrived! They don't walk on water, shush! It was funny and incomprehensible: upstairs in the house lived bearded, painted Persians, and in the basement an old yellow Kalmyk was selling sheepskins. You can slide down the stairs astride the railing or, when you fall, you can roll somersault - I knew that well. And what does water have to do with it? Everything is wrong and funny confused. - Why am I freaking out? “Because you make noise,” she said, also laughing. She spoke kindly, cheerfully, smoothly. From the very first day I became friends with her, and now I want her to quickly leave this room with me. My mother suppresses me; her tears and howls sparked a new, anxious feeling in me. This is the first time I see her like this - she was always strict, spoke little; she is clean, smooth and big, like a horse; she has a tough body and terribly strong arms. And now she is all somehow unpleasantly swollen and disheveled, everything on her is torn; the hair, lying neatly on the head, in a large light cap, scattered over the bare shoulder, fell on the face, and half of it, braided in a braid, dangled, touching the sleeping father's face. I’ve been standing in the room for a long time, but she’s never looked at me, she combs her father’s hair and keeps growling, choking on tears. Black men and a sentry soldier look in the door. He shouts angrily: - Quickly clean it up! The window is curtained with a dark shawl; it swells like a sail. One day my father took me on a boat with a sail. Suddenly thunder struck. My father laughed, squeezed me tightly with his knees and shouted: - It’s okay, don’t be afraid, Luk! Suddenly the mother threw herself up heavily from the floor, immediately sank down again, toppled over onto her back, scattering her hair across the floor; her blind, white face turned blue, and baring her teeth like her father, she said in a terrible voice: - Shut the door... Alexei - get out! Pushing me away, my grandmother rushed to the door and shouted: - Dear ones, don’t be afraid, don’t touch me, leave for Christ’s sake! This is not cholera, the birth has come, for mercy, priests! I hid in a dark corner behind a chest and from there I watched my mother squirm across the floor, groaning and gritting her teeth, and my grandmother, crawling around, said affectionately and joyfully: - In the name of father and son! Be patient, Varyusha! Most Holy Mother of God, Intercessor... I'm scared; They are fiddling around on the floor near their father, touching him, moaning and screaming, but he is motionless and seems to be laughing. This went on for a long time - fussing on the floor; More than once the mother rose to her feet and fell again; grandmother rolled out of the room like a big black soft ball; then suddenly a child screamed in the darkness. - Glory to you, Lord! - said the grandmother. - Boy! And lit a candle. I must have fallen asleep in the corner - I don’t remember anything else. The second imprint in my memory is a rainy day, a deserted corner of the cemetery; I stand on a slippery mound of sticky earth and look into the hole where my father’s coffin was lowered; at the bottom of the hole there is a lot of water and there are frogs - two have already climbed onto the yellow lid of the coffin. At the grave - me, my grandmother, a wet guard and two angry men with shovels. Warm rain, fine as beads, showers everyone. “Bury,” said the watchman, walking away. Grandmother began to cry, hiding her face in the end of her headscarf. The men, bent over, hastily began to throw earth into the grave, water began to gush; Jumping from the coffin, the frogs began to rush onto the walls of the pit, clods of earth knocking them to the bottom. “Move away, Lenya,” my grandmother said, taking me by the shoulder; I slipped out from under her hand; I didn’t want to leave. “What are you, my God,” the grandmother complained, either to me or to God, and stood silently for a long time, with her head down; The grave has already been leveled to the ground, but it still stands. The men loudly splashed their shovels on the ground; the wind came and drove away, carried away the rain. Grandmother took me by the hand and led me to a distant church, among many dark crosses. - Aren't you going to cry? - she asked when she went outside the fence. - I would cry! “I don’t want to,” I said. “Well, I don’t want to, so I don’t have to,” she said quietly. All this was surprising: I cried rarely and only from resentment, not from pain; my father always laughed at my tears, and my mother shouted: - Don't you dare cry! Then we rode along a wide, very dirty street in a droshky, among dark red houses; I asked my grandmother: “Won’t the frogs come out?” “No, they won’t get out,” she answered. - God be with them! Neither father nor mother spoke the name of God so often and so closely. A few days later, I, my grandmother and my mother were traveling on a ship, in a small cabin; my newborn brother Maxim died and lay on the table in the corner, wrapped in white, swaddled with red braid. Perched on bundles and chests, I look out the window, convex and round, like the eye of a horse; Behind the wet glass, muddy, foamy water flows endlessly. Sometimes she jumps up and licks the glass. I involuntarily jump to the floor. “Don’t be afraid,” says grandma and, easily lifting me with soft hands, she puts me back on the knots. Above the water there is a gray, wet fog; somewhere far away is dark earth and disappears again into the fog and water. Everything around is shaking. Only the mother, with her hands behind her head, stands leaning against the wall, firmly and motionless. Her face is dark, iron and blind, her eyes are tightly closed, she is silent all the time, and everything is somehow different, new, even the dress she is wearing is unfamiliar to me. Grandmother more than once told her quietly: - Varya, would you like to eat something, a little, huh? She is silent and motionless. Grandma speaks to me in a whisper, and to my mother - louder, but somehow carefully, timidly and very little. It seems to me that she is afraid of her mother. This is clear to me and brings me very close to my grandmother. “Saratov,” the mother said unexpectedly loudly and angrily. - Where is the sailor? So her words are strange, alien: Saratov, sailor. A wide, gray-haired man dressed in blue came in and brought a small box. The grandmother took him and began to lay out his brother’s body, laid him down and carried him to the door on outstretched arms, but, being fat, she could only walk through the narrow door of the cabin sideways and hesitated funny in front of it. “Eh, mother,” my mother shouted, took the coffin from her, and they both disappeared, and I remained in the cabin, looking at the blue man. - What, little brother left? - he said, leaning towards me.- Who are you? - Sailor. - Who is Saratov? - City. Look out the window, there he is! Outside the window the ground was moving; dark, steep, it smoked with fog, resembling a large piece of bread that had just been cut from a loaf. -Where did grandma go? - To bury my grandson. - Will they bury him in the ground? - What about it? They will bury it. I told the sailor how they buried live frogs when burying my father. He picked me up, hugged me tightly and kissed me. - Eh, brother, you still don’t understand anything! - he said. - There is no need to feel sorry for the frogs, God be with them! Have pity on the mother - look how her grief hurt her! There was a hum and a howl above us. I already knew that it was a steamer and was not afraid, but the sailor hastily lowered me to the floor and rushed out, saying:- We must run! And I also wanted to run away. I walked out the door. In the dark narrow gap it was empty. Not far from the door, copper glittered on the steps of the stairs. Looking up, I saw people with knapsacks and bundles in their hands. It was clear that everyone was leaving the ship, which meant I had to leave too. But when, together with a crowd of men, I found myself at the side of the ship, in front of the bridge to the shore, everyone began to shout at me: - Whose is this? Whose are you?- Don't know. They pushed me, shook me, groped me for a long time. Finally a gray-haired sailor appeared and grabbed me, explaining: - This is from Astrakhan, from the cabin... He carried me into the cabin at a run, put me in some bundles and left, wagging his finger:- I'll ask you! The noise overhead became quieter, the steamer no longer trembled or thumped through the water. The window of the cabin was blocked by some kind of wet wall; it became dark, stuffy, the knots seemed to be swollen, oppressing me, and everything was not good. Maybe they will leave me alone forever on an empty ship? I went to the door. It does not open, its copper handle cannot be turned. Taking the milk bottle, I hit the handle with all my might. The bottle broke, the milk poured over my feet and flowed into my boots. Distressed by the failure, I lay down on the bundles, cried quietly and, in tears, fell asleep. And when I woke up, the ship was thumping and shaking again, the cabin window was burning like the sun. Grandmother, sitting next to me, scratched her hair and winced, whispering something. She had a strange amount of hair, it thickly covered her shoulders, chest, knees and lay on the floor, black, tinged with blue. Lifting them from the floor with one hand and holding them in the air, she hardly inserted a rare-toothed wooden comb into the thick strands; her lips curled, her dark eyes sparkled angrily, and her face in this mass of hair became small and funny. Today she seemed angry, but when I asked why she was so long hair, she said to yesterday's warm and in a soft voice: - Apparently, God gave it as punishment - comb them, you damned ones! When I was young I boasted about this mane, I swear in my old age! And you sleep! It’s still early, the sun has just risen from the night... - I don’t want to sleep! “Well, don’t sleep otherwise,” she immediately agreed, braiding her hair and looking at the sofa, where her mother lay face up, stretched out. - How did you crack the bottle yesterday? Speak quietly! She spoke, singing the words in a special way, and they easily became stronger in my memory, like flowers, just as affectionate, bright, juicy. When she smiled, her pupils, dark as cherries, dilated, flashing with an inexpressibly pleasant light, her smile cheerfully revealed her strong white teeth, and, despite the many wrinkles in the dark skin of her cheeks, her whole face seemed young and bright. This loose nose with swollen nostrils and red at the end spoiled him very much. She sniffed tobacco from a black snuff box decorated with silver. She was all dark, but she shone from within - through her eyes - with an unquenchable, cheerful and warm light. She was stooped, almost hunchbacked, very plump, and she moved easily and deftly, like a big cat - she was as soft as this affectionate animal. It was as if I was sleeping before her, hidden in the darkness, but she appeared, woke me up, brought me into the light, tied everything around me into a continuous thread, wove everything into multi-colored lace and immediately became a friend for life, the closest to my heart, the most understandable and dear person - it was her selfless love for the world that enriched me, saturating me with strong strength for a difficult life. Forty years ago steamships moved slowly; We drove to Nizhny for a very long time, and I remember well those first days of being saturated with beauty. The weather was fine; from morning to evening I am with my grandmother on the deck, under clear sky, between the autumn-gilded, silk-embroidered banks of the Volga. Slowly, lazily and loudly thumping across the greyish-blue water, a light-red steamship with a barge in a long tow is stretching upstream. The barge is gray and looks like a woodlice. The sun floats unnoticed over the Volga; Every hour everything around is new, everything changes; green mountains are like lush folds on the rich clothing of the earth; along the banks there are cities and villages, like gingerbread ones from afar; gold autumn leaf floats on the water. - Look how good it is! - Grandma says every minute, moving from side to side, and she’s all beaming, and her eyes are joyfully widened. Often, looking at the shore, she forgot about me: she stood at the side, folded her arms on her chest, smiled and was silent, and there were tears in her eyes. I tug at her dark skirt, printed with flowers. - As? - she perks up. “It’s like I dozed off and was dreaming.” -What are you crying about? “This, dear, is from joy and from old age,” she says, smiling. “I’m already old, in my sixth decade of summer and spring my life has spread and gone.” And, after sniffing tobacco, he begins to tell me some outlandish stories about good robbers, about holy people, about all kinds of animals and evil spirits. She tells fairy tales quietly, mysteriously, leaning towards my face, looking into my eyes with dilated pupils, as if pouring strength into my heart, lifting me up. He speaks as if he were singing, and the further he goes, the more complex the words sound. It is indescribably pleasant to listen to her. I listen and ask:- More! “And here’s how it happened: an old brownie is sitting in the shelter, he’s stabbed his paw with a noodle, he’s rocking, whining: “Oh, little mice, it hurts, oh, little mice, I can’t stand it!” Raising her leg, she grabs it with her hands, swings it in the air and wrinkles her face funny, as if she herself is in pain. There are sailors standing around - bearded gentle men - listening, laughing, praising her and also asking: - Come on, grandma, tell me something else! Then they say: - Come have dinner with us! At dinner they treat her with vodka, me with watermelons and melon; this is done secretly: a man travels on the ship who forbids eating fruit, takes it away and throws it into the river. He is dressed like a guard - with brass buttons - and is always drunk; people are hiding from him. Mother rarely comes on deck and stays away from us. She is still silent, mother. Her large slender body, dark, iron face, heavy crown of blond hair braided in braids - all of her powerful and solid - are remembered to me as if through fog or a transparent cloud; Straight gray eyes, as large as grandma’s, look out of it distantly and unfriendly. One day she said sternly: - People are laughing at you, mom! - And God be with them! - Grandma answered carefree. - Let them laugh, for good health! I remember my grandmother’s childhood joy at the sight of Nizhny. Pulling my hand, she pushed me towards the board and shouted: - Look, look how good it is! Here it is, father, Nizhny! That's what he is, for God's sake! Those churches, look, they seem to be flying! And the mother asked, almost crying: - Varyusha, look, tea, huh? Look, I forgot! Rejoice! The mother smiled gloomily. When the ship stopped against beautiful city, in the middle of a river closely cluttered with ships, bristling with hundreds of sharp masts, a large boat with many people floated up to its side, hooked itself with a hook to the lowered ladder, and one after another the people from the boat began to climb onto the deck. A small, dry old man, in a long black robe, with a red beard like gold, a bird's nose and green eyes, walked quickly ahead of everyone. - Dad! - the mother screamed thickly and loudly and fell over on him, and he, grabbing her head, quickly stroking her cheeks with his small red hands, shouted, squealing: - What, stupid? Yeah! That's it... Eh, you... Grandma hugged and kissed everyone at once, spinning like a propeller; she pushed me towards people and said hastily: - Well, hurry up! This is Uncle Mikhailo, this is Yakov... Aunt Natalya, these are brothers, both Sasha, sister Katerina, this is our whole tribe, that’s how many! Grandfather told her: -Are you okay, mother? They kissed three times. Grandfather pulled me out of the crowd of people and asked, holding me by the head: -Whose will you be? - Astrakhansky, from the cabin... -What is he saying? - the grandfather turned to his mother and, without waiting for an answer, pushed me aside, saying: - Those cheekbones are like fathers... Get into the boat! We drove ashore and walked in a crowd up the mountain, along a ramp paved with large cobblestones, between two high slopes covered with withered, trampled grass. Grandfather and mother walked ahead of everyone. He was as tall as her arm, walked shallowly and quickly, and she, looking down at him, seemed to be floating through the air. Behind them silently moved the uncles: black, smooth-haired Mikhail, dry as a grandfather; fair and curly-haired Yakov, some fat women in bright dresses and about six children, all older than me and all quiet. I walked with my grandmother and little aunt Natalya. Pale, blue-eyed, with a huge belly, she often stopped and, breathless, whispered:- Oh, I can’t! - Did they bother you? - Grandmother grumbled angrily. - What a stupid tribe! I didn’t like both the adults and the children, I felt like a stranger among them, even my grandmother somehow faded and moved away. I especially didn’t like my grandfather; I immediately sensed an enemy in him, and I developed a special attention to him, a cautious curiosity. We reached the end of the congress. At the very top of it, leaning against the right slope and starting the street, stood a squat one-story house, painted dirty pink, with a low roof and bulging windows. From the street it seemed large to me, but inside it, in the small, dimly lit rooms, it was cramped; Everywhere, as on a steamship in front of the pier, angry people were fussing, children were darting about in a flock of thieving sparrows, and everywhere there was a pungent, unfamiliar smell. I found myself in the yard. The yard was also unpleasant: it was all hung with huge wet rags, filled with vats of thick, multi-colored water. The rags were also soaked in it. In the corner, in a low, dilapidated outbuilding, wood was burning hot in the stove, something was boiling, gurgling, and invisible Man spoke strange words loudly: - Sandalwood - magenta - vitriol...Memories of his childhood, family and people surrounding him at that time lay down. The actions described in it take place in the middle of the 19th century. Below is Tolstoy's story "Childhood", summary.
Chapters I to IV (Teacher Karl Ivanovich, maman, dad, classes)
- Nikolenka, who turned 10 three days ago, and his brother were raised and taught science by Karl Ivanovich . The boy loved his teacher, although this morning Karl Ivanovich angered him. The teacher also loved his students, but while in the classroom, he tried to be strict. Karl Ivanovich loved to read a lot, because of this he even ruined his eyesight. Having waited for the boys to take their morning toilet, he took them to greet their mother.
- In his story, Tolstoy very much regrets that he cannot remember in detail his mother of those times. He remembered only her brown eyes and dry hands with which she caressed Nikolenka as a child. After greeting the children, mom sent them to dad to tell him to come to her.
- Dad had serious conversation with the clerk, so he asked to wait a little. After saying hello, dad told the boys his plan, who leaves for Moscow at night and takes them with him for more serious studies. Contrary to Nikolenka’s expectations, dad then sent them to classes with Karl Ivanovich, promising to take the boys hunting later.
- Karl Ivanovich was very upset by the resignation he received, due to the departure of his charges. He constantly complained to Uncle Nikolai about his future fate. It seemed to Nikolenka that lessons would never end that day, but then steps were heard on the stairs.
Chapters V to VIII (The Holy Fool, preparations for the hunt, hunting, games)
Chapters IX to XII (Something like first love. What kind of person was my father? Classes in the office and living room. Grisha)
- The game immediately stopped after Nikolinka’s sister, Lyubochka, tore the worm along with the leaf from the tree. The children began to watch the worm, and Nikolenka liked to look more at Katenka (the daughter of the governess Lyubochka Mimi). He always liked her, but now he realized that he loved her even more. At this time, the boys' father announced that, at the mother's request, the departure was postponed until the morning.
- In chapter X of his story Tolstoy discusses the character of his father. He characterizes his parent as a self-confident, enterprising person, with shades of courtesy and revelry. His favorite pastime was playing cards, and he also loved women. His father was a happy man, Tolstoy believed. He loved to be in public and was able to tell all sorts of stories in a very interesting and interesting way.
- When we returned home from hunting, dad, after talking with Karl Ivanovich, decided to take him with him to Moscow. Maman approved of this news, saying that the children would be better off with him, and they were used to each other. Just before going to bed, the children decided to look at the chains of Grisha, who spent the night on the second floor.
- Watching Grisha pray before going to bed made such an impression on the boy that Tolstoy writes about the impossibility of forgetting these feelings for the rest of his life.
Chapters XIII to XVI (Natalia Savishna, separation, childhood, poetry)
Chapters XVII to XX (Princess Kornakova, Prince Ivan Ivanovich, Ivins, guests are gathering)
- Then the grandmother received Princess Kornakova with her congratulations. They had a conversation about methods of raising children. The princess greeted Physical punishment in education. Nikolenka thought it was good that he was not her son.
- There were a lot of guests with congratulations that day. But Nikolenka was struck by one of them - this is Prince Ivan Ivanovich. He looked at the prince with admiration and respect. He liked that his grandmother was happy about the appearance of the prince. After listening to the boy’s poems, he praised him and said that he would be a different Derzhavin.
- Next, Ivina’s relatives came. They had a son, Seryozha, who Nikolenka really liked. He sometimes even tried to imitate him. The children began to play their favorite game - robbers.
- Meanwhile, guests began to gather in the living room and hall. Among them was Mrs. Valakhina with her daughter Sonechka. Nikolenka was not indifferent to Sonechka and she occupied all his attention.