It was winter 2015.

At one of the city's utility companies, by nine in the evening there were only two people on duty and a watchman. There was blinding January snow lying outside. The watchman, Uncle Vanya, walked along the well-trodden path around the territory of the enterprise and, having locked the door with a key, went into the duty room.

The plump, rosy-cheeked Irina and her obvious antipode, the thin, white-skinned Elena, took over duty.

Under the wall, on an old nightstand, an equally old TV droned on. The electric kettle began to boil. Uncle Vanya scattered the tea leaves into cups, and the girls put cookies, sweets and similar “goodies” into the basket.

Nine o'clock flashed on TV, and the "News" began. Those in the room became quiet and, sitting around the table, listened to the words of the announcer. The news began with a report from the war zone. While pictures of battles were dancing on the screen, several distant booming booms were heard from the street. Uncle Vanya turned the TV sound down, and everyone listened as usual to the sounds coming from outside the building. The booming booms, like the sound of a huge subwoofer, were repeated two more times, then everything died down. Nobody panicked, everyone got used to it, they knew that art (1) was working, and these were outgoing (2)... arriving (3) sounded completely different...

“Once again our defenders are provoking the militias,” Lena remarked sarcastically, and the “jaws” began to play on her prominent cheekbones.

- Oh, don’t you think this might be our answer (4)? – Ira turned to Elena and looked at her colleague with widened eyes.

– If they hadn’t invaded our lands, there would have been no replies or “hellos”! – Elena bared her teeth.

- Which ones are ours? What are you talking about? How old are you? Twenty three? You were born and lived your whole life in Ukraine and two years ago you carved in an embroidered shirt no worse than a real Banderka! – Ira’s cheeks flushed red, her eyes narrowed angrily.

“I’m waiting for us to be liberated and for us to live normally, without fascists!”

- And where did you see them? Where? You spent the entire “batch” in Kyiv with your aunt, and returned as the “FaJists” liberated our city from the “orcs”! Shame on you!... – Ira began to raise her voice.

- Okay, girls, break! - Ivan could not stand it, - Time will judge, but for now it’s a sin for us to complain, after all, we’re not in the line of fire. Here, tea, electricity, cookies - where bullets fly like flies in the fall - there is no such thing!

The girls became quiet and looked at the TV. Suddenly, a knock was heard from the street on the iron gate of the gate.

“Girls, sit here, keep your eyes open, I’ll see who brought it.” - Uncle Vanya pulled on his sheepskin coat, took the baton and, crossing himself, went out.

A few minutes later the door opened and Ivan entered the room, followed by three men in military uniform.

- Meet me! - Uncle Vanya, undressing, introduced the guests, - The guys are from the front line, they are going on short-term vacation, they were released late, so they only managed to get to our city, they need to spend the night, but we have a place.

- Good evening, your hati! – bowing slightly, said the man, who looked to be about forty to forty-five years old. From under the eyebrows of a weathered, clean-shaven face, the tired eyes of a soldier looked at the girls.

- Hello to you too! – Elena smiled askance and wrinkled her sharp nose.

- Are you frozen? Don't be shy! – Irina tried to smooth out the impression of Lena’s hospitality. The guys were without weapons, which nevertheless reduced the tension.

There was no hint in the soldier’s words that they were pitied or showed sympathy. This one was dark, with a long mustache, like the Cossacks. The eyes sparkled like needles.

- Well, well, this is too much! We are not some kind of animals! - Uncle Vanya entered, - there are beds for such a case, and a stove - now the girls will prepare a snack, and in the morning - tea!

- Yes, good people! - An old man came forward, looking over sixty, with a gray, well-groomed beard and mustache. “We don’t need much, show us where we can lie down, and give us some boiling water, if possible.”

Ivan led the guys into the back room - the sleeping area. The girls forgot about the feuds and whispered...

- Maybe these are some homeless people? What kind of soldiers are these? Sorry, they're too old! – Elena hissed.

– Yes, no, it seems – both the uniform and equipment, and they are too well-groomed. Maybe in the rear where they sit? – Irina interceded.

After a while, Uncle Vanya returned.

- The teapot needs to be put on full. - Ivan fussed, - The guys at least need to be warmed up with tea.

– Are these really warriors? - Elena grinned, - Maybe they are some kind of homeless people?

Ivan looked with regret at the girl...

- Yes! They are the real ones... They are the ones,” Uncle Vanya went out for a smoke break.

The youngest of the guests entered the room. The girls fell silent at first, but while the man was waiting for the kettle to boil, Irina could not stand it and decided to ask questions.

-Are you very cold? – The girl started with a neutral question.

- There is little. - The soldier smiled, - We are no strangers to this. I’m Sergey, how should I address you, girls?

- Ira! – The girl smiled back.

- Elena. – The second one threw it dryly.

- Thank you for sheltering me. We were already planning to spend the night at the bus stop. The bus station is closed at night.

– Excuse me for being importunate, but your colleagues aren’t too... let’s say, too old for the war? You probably serve in some kind of headquarters? – Irina asked and blushed.

- Yes, no, we are from the front, we are air defense officers. - Sergey smiled from ear to ear, - And, as you called my brothers-in-arms - my colleagues are indeed aged, but this does not prevent them from serving on an equal basis with others.

Sergei said that he was forty-five, the one with the mustache, Ivan, was fifty-three, and the eldest uncle Misha was sixty. Pouring boiling water into mugs, the soldier said that he and Ivan had been mobilized, and Uncle Misha was a volunteer, a Gorlovka, who took the remnants of his family to Poltava back in 2014, after which he went to war to liberate his home.

- Why the rest of the family? – Elena, who had been silent until then, quietly asked.

“Uncle Misha was a farmer, he worked in a mine until he retired, he had good money. How it all started, a local bosota came and said that now they are the government, and people like him need to be “dispossessed.” Uncle Misha did not agree... tried to resist, to explain something... In the basement, during torture, his mother and youngest son died. – There was silence in the room.

- Maybe you can eat? – Irina tried to remove the uncomfortable pause.

- Thank you, we’ll have some tea, evening dress and - good-bye! – Sergei smiled again.

The soldier took the mugs and went to his brothers-in-arms. The girls were silent; Uncle Vanya came in from the street after a smoke break and another round.

The girls woke up in the morning and found on the table tin cans with various canned goods, condensed milk, a bag of sugar and a note with one word: “Thank you!”...

“Like in the Second World War...” Lena said and looked thoughtfully out the window.

Arta (1) – artillery,

Outgoing (2) – shots towards the enemy,

Arrivals (3) – hit by shells from the enemy,

Response (4) – return fire at the enemy.

The text is large so it is divided into pages.

“Restaurants have lost their meaning for me, because they are not for eating, but rather for going out, with rare exceptions.” “I love gathering a lot of people, I love it when different voices and dialogues are heard at the same time - it’s a nice noise.” “In a home environment, everyone opens up, and the greatest pleasure for me is to see how people from completely different areas of my life get to know each other and then it develops into friendship.” Elena Zamyatina, Anna Bichevskaya and Kirill Pokrovsky told The Village about why they hold home receptions instead of going to a restaurant or bar.

Dinner at Elena Zamyatina's

Maria Severina, furniture designer, Maxim Zamyatin, Mercedes manager, Maria Popova, Vogue.ru, Sofya Zaika (back), student, Vadim Yasnogorodsky, Home Concept, Anita Gigovskaya, Conde Nast

Elena Zamyatina

journalist

It all started with a story of huge failure. At that time, I was still working at Look At Me, I was not married, and I had just moved into this apartment. The house was new, there was no one in it, the apartment was not heated. My colleague and part-time close friend Anna Khrustaleva-Gecht offered to “weakly” host dinner with me. I invited a number of friends and acquaintances, not knowing how to cook at all. It was November, the apartment was monstrously cold, so the only solution and the main decoration of the table was alcohol. Everyone got drunk, I tried to fry salmon, I didn’t finish cooking the pasta, it was an absolute fiasco, but it was wildly fun. The main thing I understood is that such meetings are not decided on a whim, they are a whole undertaking. I haven’t returned to this question for a very long time. Everything changed when I began to live here with my husband, and these were completely different events in terms of complexity and content.

At meetings at home, you have the opportunity to chat with friends in an informal setting; many people cannot relax in restaurants. In clubs we all relax, but no one has intimate conversations, and apartment parties - I am an absolute apologist for them. This is a great joy for me - I realized that I need to learn to cook, and this gives me great pleasure, plus I have a daughter Zoya - in any case I had to acquire some skills.

Geographically, I don’t live very conveniently: fifteen minutes from the center on any weekday turns into a two-hour hell because of traffic. Therefore, of course, I try to make up for the emotional losses that guests endure on the way here, and somehow make them all happy.

Sometimes such dinners happen completely spontaneously - for example, you met with friends at a bar and decided: “Let’s come over for cabbage rolls tomorrow?” - as it once was. And urgently the next day I googled “how to cook cabbage rolls.” Although now there are almost no spontaneous meetings: everyone works, many have children, and it’s not so easy to get here. You need to choose a day, notify everyone in advance, make sure no one forgets and everyone will come. You can just invite a friend or two in the evening, but such dinners are a real event that requires high-quality preparation.

Salmon pie
Veal pie

There were also thematic meetings: once, at the peak of sad autumn moods, Maxim, my husband, and I decided to throw a real Russian party. We made dumplings and dumplings, took cranberry liqueur from Pushkin, vodka and had a Russian feast. Today I made pies with salmon and veal, which I have been inviting my friends to for a long time. There are parties - birthdays, when the apartment looks completely different: we move the furniture apart to accommodate more guests, we arrange a buffet.

Of course, I won’t invite everyone to my home, but I really like communicating with completely different people, and I had to in the course of my duty. Calling your friends home is a way to a new level of communication. In a home environment, everyone opens up, and the greatest pleasure for me is to see how people from completely different areas of my life get to know each other and then it develops into friendship.

In this regard, house parties are an excellent testing ground for unexpected acquaintances. Professionally, you might never have crossed paths, but at a house party there is a certain amount of trust. These are my former colleagues and friends who appeared in the wake of motherhood. Sometimes I invite a group of people, sometimes I arrange a dating evening when, for example, I understand that certain people should talk.

Happens, invited brings with him somebody else, and this becomes the beginning good friendship

And guests are always open to this: they are fed up with professional events and would rather meet at home, drink wine and eat pies or pasta. I always have ten people in my head who I know will be happy to visit me and whom I will always be happy to see. But I like to add some unexpected people to them. It happens that the invitee brings someone else with him, and this becomes the beginning of a good friendship.

Today's guests are just the permanent backbone. Since I'm going away for a month, I wanted to see everyone. For example, Masha Severina, Masha Popova - these are people whom my husband has known for a very long time. I don’t even remember how I met the Yasnogorodsky-Gigovsky couple - they are very close and dear to me. Sonya Zaika is my close friend, with whom we have literally been living in parallel for the last six months.

Masha Severina

A restaurant for me is to come, eat quickly and leave. Dinners with friends are a completely different story. These meetings are very pleasant because the house is cozy and the gatherings last a long time. We never come here for two hours, at least half a day, and sometimes we stay overnight and continue in the morning. Lena cooks very tasty, and the apartment is nice for its spaciousness. And because of the interesting location, you always get the impression that you are going on vacation outside the city. I also love these meetings because I always meet a pleasant company of familiar people here.

Saturday lunch at Anna Bichevskaya's

From left to right: Oleg, creative director at an advertising agency, Albina Preis, TV presenter of “2.5 Cooks”, Kristina Chernyakhovskaya, TV presenter of “2.5 Cooks”, Vova Chernyakhovsky, photographer, Nika Voljatovska, decorator, designer; Serge, designer, “Engineer Garin” project; Sasha Sekerina, Candidate of Medical Sciences, Polina Sibagatulina, participant of Comedy Woman, Alena Ermakova, Anna’s colleague from Stay Hungry. Standing behind: Yaroslav Rassadin, industrial designer, Dmitry Mafeenya, interior designer, artist, Anna Bichevskaya and Lilith, assistant at Stay Hungry

Anna Bichevskaya

editor-in-chief of Iknow.travel, co-founder of the Stay Hungry project

Meetings in this apartment began immediately after we moved here, about four years ago. The apartment is large, it immediately became clear to us that she had to make use of her space. In fact, home-cooked dinners with friends are, in a sense, what led me to create Stay Hungry- we organized cool parties and decided to make a project out of it. Stay Hungry, in turn, canceled all our home gatherings for about a year, because I had enough activities there. Then we slowed down and started having lunches and dinners at home again. This happens about once every two to three weeks - we get together as a company, which has a core group and many different people who come here and get to know each other. Moreover, we even had two couples at home, and there were weddings. A lot of people meet here, and not only at dinners: for example, we go to the cinema in the same crowds. Or recently we went to the Baltics with a group of ten people.

Usually the average number of guests is 20−25 people. I have a problem - I don’t know how to gather small companies. The largest number was probably about sixty people - this usually happens on my husband Dima’s birthday, February 25th. On this day we always have a dumpling party - we cook the dumplings ourselves. One day I got confused and made jellied meat.

We usually start the party at three in the afternoon. The first guests help cook, and the slackers arrive at eight or nine in the evening and find those who cooked already noticeably working hard, because Dima makes infusions with berries and horseradish.

Eggplants with pomegranate, cilantro and bazhe sauce
Carrot cake with mascarpone cream
Peppers baked with cheese mousse and cream

Dolma

Armenian salad of fresh beets, carrots, celery and lots of greens

I love gathering a lot of people, I love it when different voices and dialogues sound at the same time - it's a pleasant noise. Many guests are united by Stay Hungry: I met Veronica when I bought dishes from her for a project, Alena and I are doing a project, Lilith is our assistant. Today we are preparing dishes of Armenian-Georgian cuisine, because Lilith loves it.

Our menu is often born from suggestions: “Let’s do this, and let’s do that,” but most often these are dishes that are convenient for a large company. We often have unplanned meetings, someone asks: “How about we come visit you?” - and so the dinner party is going. In this case, we make do with simple dishes: we buy dough, goat cheese, vegetables, make pizzas or pies. What I like most is when everyone organizes themselves, everyone can find something to do. Or, for example, after we have a cleaning party.

Sometimes they bring me delicious food from different cities, and this can also become a reason for a meeting. For example, Yaroslav brought hemp beer. Once they brought us mackerel from Kaliningrad. This led to us having guests over for beer and fish.

We have one apartment per floor, so during such meetings, guests fill both the entire living space and the landing. Once the police even came with machine guns; the neighbors called them. But I persuaded them not to ruin our fun and gave them some pies for the road.

Sometimes I they bring delicious food from different cities, and this can also become a reason for meetings

To prevent this from happening again, before the next party we went to all the neighbors with cookies and warned them about our plans. They all answered: “Yes, of course, what else can you do when you’re young? You have to hang out!” This is a common practice - if you want to be treated normally, treat others the same way.

Lilith Molchanova

Anna's colleague
Bichevskaya by Stay Hungry

For an appetizer, we prepared eggplants with pomegranate, cilantro and bazhe sauce. This is Georgian cuisine. Bazhe sauce consists of walnuts, also with cilantro, garlic and spices. Peppers baked with cheese mousse and cream. Armenian salad of fresh beets, carrots, celery and a lot of greens. For main course there are two types of dolma: classic meat dolma in grape leaves and vegetarian with rice, walnuts and mint. We also made homemade lemonade with tarragon and lemonade with basil. And for dessert - carrot cake with mascarpone cream and orange pie.

Alena Ermakova

friend and colleague of Anna Bichevskaya from Stay Hungry

Let's start with the fact that Stay Hungry began in this kitchen. My new friend at the time, Anya, said that there was a topic for discussion, and invited me to her place for tea, where she introduced me to Leah. And already then, a couple of hours later, ten people gathered here in the kitchen, and we all figured out together how we could make a cool project. This is how it always turns out, however: if Anya gathers a dinner “only for her” five to seven people, in the end at least twenty come, because everyone knows that a more comfortable place for gatherings cannot be found. Well, maybe Stay Hungry.

In my opinion, Anya and Dima are the embodiment of hospitality. Definitely no one is left hungry and sober at home, because Anya will approach everyone and convince them to try both the appetizer and dessert. It’s simply impossible not to succumb to Dima’s charm and his infusions! Regulars know that the best time to come is before the party starts: during the preparation process, the coolest ideas are born, the main news is discussed, and acquaintances become close friends. So Serge, Phil Petrenko with Anya Kazakova, and Max Avdeev became my friends - when you make dumplings with people, break jars of cherry liqueur and then wipe stains from the ceiling, it’s impossible not to make friends. Well, the fact that two whole couples who met at this very table have already gotten married generally gives us hope.

Sergey Malykhin

friend of Anna Bichevskaya,
designer

This is a house in which people live, so the atmosphere and communication here are completely different than in any public institutions. Everyone here is my friend. We communicate on different topics, I feel much more relaxed and freer than in a restaurant. Of course, it all depends on the owners. Anya loves to gather people and feed them. This always happens in different ways - she called ahead for today’s lunch, and sometimes it happens that Stay Hungry events spill over into home gatherings. Or Anya says: “They gave me fish from Kaliningrad, come for a fish roll!”

Dinner at Kirill Pokrovsky's

Alexander Zhuravlev, Larisa Zhuravleva, Olga Pokrovskaya, Kirill Pokrovsky

Kirill Pokrovsky

trainee baker
at the Delicatessen restaurant

About five years ago I realized that I get great pleasure from cooking; for me it is a special antidepressant. That's when I decided to take this seriously. Now I am finishing my internship as a baker in, I am a member of "

At the end of last year, on December 28, law enforcement agencies of the Novosibirsk region identified six brothers - members of an organized crime group, suspected of murdering a 37-year-old resident of the city of Iskitim, who testified to the police against one of them. In the criminal world, revenge is brutal. And, of course, they fiercely hate those who cooperate with or simply make small noises in prisons. understood the criminal traditions in this regard.

According to the laws of the prison

Denunciation in a zone often becomes a death sentence for those who decide to do it, and showdowns occur not only in zones.

Last year, in the city of Gusinozersk (Selenginsky district of the Republic of Buryatia), 36-year-old Anton met his former cellmate Victor on a walk - they were imprisoned together in a Buryat colony for murder and were released almost simultaneously, in 2004.

Let's go to Victor's house to celebrate the meeting. Having drunk quite a bit, Victor suddenly told Anton that he considered him an informer who was ratting out inmates to the prison administration. And he attacked him with his fists. The fight turned into a beating, which was joined by Victor’s friend, who was participating in the drinking session. Anton's almost lifeless body was thrown into the street. In the morning, passers-by noticed him and called an ambulance. Anton died a month later without regaining consciousness. Victor and his friend were taken into custody.

You will answer for the “goat”

The charge of friendship with a godfather (as criminals call a representative of the colony administration) is very serious and requires evidence, and according to prison standards, an answer. An unfounded accusation can lead to death.

Last fall, on September 11, in the village of Mezhdurechye (Dagestan), the body of 39-year-old Abdulgapur Valiev, who worked as a medical brother in a local hospital, was discovered.

As part of his duty, he treated police officers, which aroused the hatred of local militants, who killed him as an informer.

“The ax follows the informer”

“In general, hatred of informers is far from a Russian tradition. Criminals from any country - be it the Italian mafia, Hong Kong triads or Mexican bandits - hate informers fiercely,” says a researcher of the prison world, a writer known under the pseudonym Fima Zhiganets.

“Before the Great Patriotic War, prison sentences were generally short: a murderer received eight years, a thief a year or two. But in the second half of the 50s the terms increased sharply. And when a person goes to prison for ten years or more without a chance of parole, he has to survive, willy-nilly. The easiest way to ease your fate behind bars is to cooperate with the administration. It has become easy to recruit informers in prisons,” explains Sidorov.

At this time, the world of thieves began to be divided into bitches (who make contact with their superiors) and honest thieves who defend their principles. Informers (criminals called them differently: nightingales, quiet people, nepotists, sometimes goats) were killed in prisons: they were drowned in toilets, they got rid of them in other terrible ways. The reality of that time is reflected in the saying “the ax follows the informer.”

“In the middle of the 20th century, in Soviet prisons there were prisoners who officially helped the administration - “Reds”. They were despised. Just as they despised rats - prisoners who stole from their own. But neither one nor the other was killed en masse - unlike the informers. After all, an informer could give out a communication channel with the will, interrupt the flow of food and other benefits from there, and generally ruin life in every possible way, pretending to be one of his own,” says Lenta.ru’s interlocutor.

With hatred of denunciations in the blood

According to Sidorov, today informers are killed less often in prison environments. But anyone caught snitching will definitely either be beaten or “put down” (humiliated). And this applies not only to the criminal world.

“Thieves' concepts in one form or another are found almost everywhere. Their elements can be found in all sorts of youth subcultures, among gopniks, even in school environments. The concept of “the right kid” is absorbed from an early age. And such a kid will never inform - he will definitely figure it out himself,” explains Sidorov.

Testimony is usually given either by victims or witnesses. According to the unspoken laws of the criminal world, a thief can never be a victim. Even if it was stolen from him, even if he knows who stole it, he cannot report it to the police, it is shameful. The “right kid” will not turn to law enforcement.

“All these concepts, which were once an element of the subculture of a narrow circle of people, have truly become part of us today. This is how it happened historically. And these are already genes,” concludes Fima Zhiganets.

In the text proposed for analysis by M.M. Zoshchenko raises the problem of philistinism. This is exactly what he is thinking about.

This problem of a social and moral nature cannot but worry modern people.

The writer reveals this problem using the example of comrade Sitnikov, who invited guests, ordinary people like him, to a cake in honor of All-Russian Press Day, because for him this holiday was more important than his birthday.

We see the arrogance of Comrade Sitnikov and his bragging, the low level of speech culture, how he verbally pretends to be an intellectual who is not one. Sitnikov says that books are dear and significant to him, that “an uncultured person will calmly throw a book anywhere and put a glass on it,” and one of the guests, agreeing with Sitnikov, talks about how his relative used the book as a support for a chest of drawers instead of a broken leg. Sitnikov’s reaction to this was as follows: “Did you see?!” the owner exclaimed in pain. “See, what a scarecrow! A book under the chest of drawers! And, probably, the son of a bitch put a good book. Well, put a French or German dictionary, so after all, no... Such people, frankly, need to be shot...".

And the writer also shows us how Sitnikov told his guests the story of “saving” one book for them: he did not allow the soldiers to use the “picture book “The Universe and Humanity”” for wrapping, saved it throughout the war, but did not read it: taken from this book The benefit was not broadening one’s horizons or discovering something new, but decorating the interior with illustrations: “There is no price for a book.

What kind of paintings in paints, what kind of paper.

“Here,” said the owner, I even cut out some pictures and pasted them into frames.

Indeed: the whole room was hung with illustrations from the book “The Universe and Humanity,” and some illustrations were inserted into black modest frames and gave the whole room a cozy and intelligent look.” Comrade Sitnikov contradicts himself: he talks about careful handling of the book, but he himself fully applies to those who use books not for their intended purpose, but for convenience in everyday life, to those whom he condemns and whom he wants to shoot, no different from them.

I completely agree with the author’s position and also believe that the problem of philistinism is that its representatives strive to act like everyone else, but at the same time want to appear better than others. Using Sitnikov’s example, it is clear that his passion for books cannot be called a passion for literature. If he had been truly interested in literature, that is, had actually read books, he would have changed his environment.

This problem is reflected in fiction. For example, in the comedy N.V. Gogol "The Inspector General". Officials of the county town sought their own material well-being through bribery and embezzlement and did not improve the lives of the townspeople in any way. Frightened of retribution, they mistook the empty and stupid passing Khlestakov for an inspector, but, having learned who he really was, they could not understand, especially the mayor, how they could fall for deception when they themselves were fooling everyone around their finger. We see philistinism both in the person of Khlestakov and in the person of the town officials. For example, Khlestakov talks about how he was first the head of a department, then a minister, then a field marshal, and the like. It is clear that officials take his story at face value, but Khlestakov himself believed in his own lies. Or the mayor, dreaming of a generalship, a career in St. Petersburg thanks to the wedding of his daughter and an auditor, a clever bribe, and well-timed flattery. Representatives of Khlestakovism are typical ordinary people who claim more, but do not put any effort into it, seeing their meaning in life in easy money.

Another example of fiction is the story of A.P. Chekhov's "Ionych". Throughout the entire story, Dmitry Ionovich Startsev gradually turns into Ionych due to the environment of the inhabitants in which he finds himself and the character traits that he had. The zemstvo doctor, who once dreamed of love and benefit to others, began to forget his dreams under the influence of the inhabitants with whom he lived and worked side by side, and began to listen to public opinion. The sad consequences of this are visible at the end of the work, where Startsev from a young man passionate about life turns into a middle-aged man who does not stand out in any way and shows no interest in anything other than getting rich.

Thus, we can draw the following conclusion: we see the consequences of such a way of life as philistinism: a person does not expand his horizons, his level of spiritual development remains unchanged, all forces are subordinated to base possessive and selfish interests.

Effective preparation for the Unified State Exam (all subjects) -

In his youth, while living in Russia, Ivan Sergeevich usually lived on his estate Spasskoye-Lutovinovo, and in the winter he showed up in the capitals. His uncle Pyotr Nikolaevich Turgenev lived in Moscow at that time, and he often organized parties. At these evenings, the owner’s niece, the young and pretty Elizaveta Alekseevna Turgeneva, appeared. Among the few servants this young lady had was a courtyard girl, Theoktista, whom everyone called Fetiska. Something inexpressibly attractive and pretty was visible in the features of her long, dark face. Sometimes she looked so hard that it was impossible to take your eyes off her. She was amazingly slender, her arms and legs were small, her gait was proud, majestic, as if she was of a completely different blood than the servant... Lady Elizaveta Alekseevna dressed her like a young lady.

On one of his visits to Moscow, Ivan Sergeevich once looked at his cousin, saw Fetiska and... was struck to the very heart. He began to visit this house very often and became more and more convinced of his feelings. In one of Turgenev’s stories there are the following words: “When one maid entered the room with him, he was ready to throw himself at her feet and cover her with countless kisses.” In pre-reform times, a wealthy landowner had to think a little to come up with the prosaic thought: “What if I buy this girl?”

Quite soon, the romantically inclined Ivan Sergeevich had a frank conversation with his cousin and, despite the positive answer, he was very puzzled by the amount that she named. Back then, courtyard girls were sold for 25, 30, or at most 50 rubles, but here, after haggling, they agreed on 700 rubles - an unthinkable price for anyone in their right mind! The money was given, and Fetiska, shedding tears, moved to Ivan Sergeevich. Turgenev immediately admitted that he loved her very much and would try to make her happy. She was shy and avoided him, because for her he was only a new master. Having bought Fetiska expensive clothes and linen made from the finest linen, Ivan Sergeevich sent Fetiska to Spasskoye. And soon I went there myself. A year passed, quite idyllic, but then Ivan Sergeevich became bored. The object of passion disappointed him more and more. Fetiska knew nothing and did not want to know, just like learning to read, write and listen to music. All efforts to develop this charming creature and expand her horizons led to nothing. She was only interested in neighbors' squabbles and gossip. Soon she became pregnant and gave birth to a girl, who was named Polina. Leaving his little daughter in the care of his mother, Turgenev went to Paris, closer to the Viardot family, music, art - to a life that met his moral and aesthetic needs. Later, he brought the grown-up Polina to Paris, Polina Viardot took part in her upbringing, gave her an education, and married her to a rich Frenchman. He did everything that a good father should, but his daughter never became spiritually close to him.

From the memoirs of Nikolai Berg, 1883