N. Berg

MEMORIES OF CONTEMPORARIES ABOUT N.V. GOGOL

T. G. PASCHENKO

FEATURES FROM GOGOL'S LIFE

“Every trait of a great artist is a property of history.”

Victor Hugo.

Our famous Gogol, despite his remarkable originality, was an inimitable comedian, mimic and excellent reader. Originality, humor, satire and comedy were innate and inherent in Gogol. These capital features appear prominently in each of his works and in almost every line, although they do not fully express the author, as Gogol himself said: “A letter can never express even a tenth of a person.” Therefore, every feature of a famous person, in which his inner world is expressed by action or living word, is interesting, dear and should be preserved for posterity.

Here are some of Gogol's originalities. The Gymnasium of Higher Sciences of Prince Bezborodko was divided into three museums, or departments, into which we entered and left in pairs; So they took us for walks. Each museum had its own warden. In the third museum the supervisor was German, 3<ельднер>, ugly, clumsy and extremely antipathetic: tall, lean, with long, thin and crooked legs, almost no calves; his face somehow protruded forward ugly and strongly resembled a pig's snout... his long arms dangled as if tied; stooped, with a stupid expression of colorless and lifeless eyes and with some strange hairstyle. But with his long curves, Zeldner took such gigantic steps that we were not happy with him. Almost immediately, he’s here: one, two, three, and Zeldner from the front pair is already at the back; Well, it just doesn’t give us a move. So Gogol decided to moderate the excessive agility of this big-haired (long-legged) German and composed the following quatrain about Seldner:

Gizel - the face of a pig,
Crane legs;
The same little devil in the swamp,
Just put your horns on!

Let's go, Seldner is ahead; suddenly the rear couples sing these poems - he steps, and is already here. “Who was the bumblebee singing, what was she singing?” Silence and no one blinks an eye. The front couples will sing there - Seldner steps there - and there too; we delay again - he comes to us again, and again without an answer. We laugh until Zeldner stops walking, walks silently and just looks around and wags his finger. Sometimes we can’t stand it and burst out laughing. It went well. Such fun gave Gogol and all of us great pleasure and moderated Seldner’s giant strides. We had a comrade R<иттер>, a tall, extremely suspicious and gullible young man, about eighteen years old. Ritter had his own lackey, old man Semyon. Gogol was interested in his comrade’s excessive suspiciousness, and he pulled the following trick on him: “You know, Ritter, I’ve been watching you for a long time and noticed that you don’t have human eyes, but bull eyes... but I still doubted and didn’t want to tell you, but now I see , that this is an undoubted truth - you have bull’s eyes ... "

He takes Ritter several times to the mirror, he peers intently, changes his face, trembles, and Gogol gives all kinds of evidence and finally completely assures Ritter that he has bull eyes.

It was towards nightfall: the unfortunate Ritter lay down in bed, did not sleep, tossed and turned, sighed heavily, and everyone imagined his own bull’s eyes. At night he suddenly jumps out of bed, wakes up the footman and asks to light a candle; the footman lit it. “You see, Semyon, I have the eyes of a bull...” The footman persuaded by Gogol replies: “Indeed, master, you have the eyes of a bull! Oh my god! It was N.V. Gogol who made such an obsession...” Ritter finally lost heart and became confused. Suddenly there is turmoil in the morning. "What's happened?" - “Ritter has gone crazy! Obsessed with the fact that he has bull eyes!.” “I noticed this yesterday,” says Gogol with such confidence that it was difficult not to believe it. They run and report the misfortune with Ritter to Director Orlay; and Ritter himself runs after him, enters Orlai and cries bitterly: “Your Excellency! I have bull's eyes!." The most learned and famous doctor of medicine, director Orlai, phlegmatically sniffs tobacco and, seeing that Ritter had really gone crazy in the eyes of a bull, ordered him to be taken to the hospital. And they dragged the unfortunate Ritter to the hospital, where he stayed for a whole week until he was cured of imaginary madness. Gogol and all of us died laughing, and Ritter recovered from his suspiciousness.

Gogol's remarkable powers of observation and passion for writing awoke very early, almost from the first days of his admission to the gymnasium of higher sciences. But while studying science there was almost no time for compositions and writing. What is Gogol doing? During class, especially in the evenings, he pulls out a drawer from the table, in which there was a board with a slate or a notebook with a pencil, leans over the book, looks at it and at the same time writes in the drawer, and so skillfully that even the sharp-sighted guards do not noticed this trick. Then, as was evident, Gogol’s passion for writing intensified more and more, but there was no time to write and the box did not satisfy him. What did Gogol do? Enraged!. Yes, I'm furious! Suddenly there was a terrible alarm in all departments - “Gogol has gone mad!” We came running, and we saw that Gogol’s face was terribly distorted, his eyes were sparkling with some kind of wild brilliance, his hair was puffed up, he was grinding his teeth, foaming at the mouth, falling, throwing himself and hitting furniture - he went berserk! The phlegmatic director Orlai also came running, carefully approached Gogol and touched him on the shoulder: Gogol grabbed a chair, waved it - Orlai left... There was only one remedy left: they called four employees at the Lyceum for the Disabled, ordered them to take Gogol and take him to a special department of the hospital. So the disabled people seized the time, approached Gogol, grabbed him, laid him on a bench and carried him, a servant of God, to the hospital, where he stayed for two months, perfectly playing the role of a madman there...

Gogol in the memoirs of contemporaries

N. V. Gogol Engraving by F. Jordan from a portrait of F. Moller. 1841

S. Mashinsky. Preface

Perhaps none of the great Russian writers of the 19th century provoked such a fierce ideological struggle around his work as Gogol. This struggle began after the publication of his first works and continued with unabated force for many decades after his death. Belinsky rightly noted that “no one was indifferent to Gogol’s talent: he was either enthusiastically loved or hated.”

Gogol's work marks the greatest milestone in the development of Russian literature since Pushkin. The critical, accusatory nature of Gogol's realism was an expression of her ideological maturity and ability to pose the main, fundamental questions of the social life of Russia. The liberation ideas that fueled the activities of Fonvizin and Radishchev, Griboyedov and Pushkin were the tradition of Russian literature that Gogol continued and enriched with his brilliant works.

Characterizing the period of Russian history “from the Decembrists to Herzen,” Lenin pointed out: “Serf Russia is downtrodden and motionless. A tiny minority of nobles protest, powerless without the support of the people. But the best people from the nobles helped to wake people". Gogol was one of these people. His work was imbued with the living interests of Russian reality. With enormous power of realism, the writer exposed “in the eyes of the whole people” all the abomination and rottenness of the feudal-landowner regime of his time. Gogol's works reflected the people's anger against their centuries-old oppressors.

With emotional pain, Gogol wrote about the dominance of “dead souls” in feudal Russia. The position of a dispassionate chronicler was alien to Gogol. In his famous discussion about two types of artists, with whom the seventh chapter of “Dead Souls” opens, Gogol contrasts the romantic inspiration soaring in the skies with the hard but noble work of a realist writer who “dared to call out... all the terrible, stunning mud of little things that entangle our lives , the whole depth of cold, fragmented, everyday characters with which our earthly, sometimes bitter and boring road is teeming.” Gogol himself was such a realist artist, an exposer. With merciless sarcasm and hatred, he exposed the “crooked faces” of the landowner and bureaucratic world. Belinsky emphasized that Gogol’s most characteristic and important feature is his passionate and protesting “subjectivity,” which “reaches high and lyrical pathos and embraces the reader’s soul with refreshing waves.”

With enormous artistic power, Gogol showed not only the process of decomposition of the feudal-serf system and the spiritual impoverishment of its representatives, but also the terrible threat that the world of the Chichikovs brought to the people - the world of capitalist predation. In his work, the writer reflected the concern of the advanced forces of Russian society for the historical destinies of their country and their people. Gogol's works are imbued with great patriotic inspiration. He wrote, according to N.A. Nekrasov, “not what he might like more, and not even what was easier for his talent, but sought to write what he considered most useful for his fatherland.”

Gogol's creative path was unusually complex and contradictory. He created works in which he exposed the feudal-serf system of Russia with stunning force and in them, as Dobrolyubov put it, “he came very close to the people’s point of view.” However, the writer was far from thinking about the need for a decisive, revolutionary transformation of this system. Gogol hated the ugly world of serf owners and tsarist officials. At the same time, he was often frightened by the conclusions that naturally and naturally flowed from his works - the conclusions that his readers made. Gogol, a brilliant realist artist, was characterized by a narrow ideological horizon, which Belinsky and Chernyshevsky more than once pointed out.

This was the tragedy of the great writer. But whatever Gogol’s misconceptions at the last stage of his life, he played a colossal role in the history of Russian literature and the liberation movement in Russia.

Revealing the historical significance of L.N. Tolstoy’s work, V.I. Lenin wrote: “... if we have before us a truly great artist, then he should have reflected at least some of the essential aspects of the revolution in his works.” This brilliant Leninist proposition also helps explain the most important problem of Gogol’s creativity. Being a great realist artist, Gogol was able, despite the narrowness and limitations of his own ideological positions, to paint in his works an amazingly accurate picture of Russian serfdom reality and to expose the autocratic serfdom system with merciless truthfulness. Thus, Gogol contributed to the awakening and development of revolutionary self-awareness.

M.I. Kalinin wrote: “The fiction of the first half of the 19th century significantly advanced the development of political thought in Russian society and knowledge of its people.” These words are directly related to Gogol.

Under the direct influence of Gogol, the work of the most outstanding Russian writers was formed: Herzen and Turgenev, Ostrovsky and Goncharov, Nekrasov and Saltykov-Shchedrin. Chernyshevsky named an entire period in the history of Russian literature after Gogol. For many decades, this name served as a banner in the struggle for advanced, ideological art. Gogol's brilliant works served Belinsky and Herzen, Chernyshevsky and Dobrolyubov, as well as subsequent generations of revolutionaries as a powerful weapon in the fight against the landowner, exploitative system.

They tried to use Gogol’s contradictions in the reactionary camp, which spared no effort to falsify his work, emasculate its folk-patriotic and accusatory content, and present the great satirist as a humble “martyr of the Christian faith.”

As is known, Belinsky played a huge role in the fight for Gogol, in protecting him from all kinds of reactionary falsifiers. He was the first to see the innovative significance of Gogol's works. He insightfully revealed their deep ideological content and, using the material of these works, solved the most pressing problems of our time. Gogol's work made it possible for Belinsky, under the police regime, to make the most pressing phenomena of the country's social life the subject of legal public discussion. In his article “Speech on Criticism,” he, for example, directly stated that the “continuous rumors and disputes” excited by “Dead Souls” are “a question that is as much a literary as a social one.” But the most striking expression of Belinsky’s revolutionary thought was his famous letter to Gogol regarding “Selected Passages from Correspondence with Friends,” which with stunning force reflected the political sentiments of the enslaved masses of Russia, their passionate protest against their oppressors.

Gogol in the memoirs of contemporaries Panaev Ivan Ivanovich

N.V. Berg. Memories of Gogol*

N.V. Berg. Memories of Gogol *

The first time I met Gogol was with S.P. Shevyrev - at the end of 1848. There were several guests who belonged to the Moscow circle of writers, who were called Slavophiles. As far as I can remember, they were all invited to dinner for Gogol, who had just returned from Italy and was then at the apogee of his greatness and glory... Moscow friends of Gogol, more precisely close(Gogol, it seems, did not have a real friend in his entire life), surrounded him with unprecedented, reverent attention. On each of his visits to Moscow, he found from one of them everything he needed for the most peaceful and comfortable life: a table with the dishes that he loved most; a quiet, secluded room and servants ready to fulfill all his slightest whims. From morning to night, this servant was strictly impressed not to enter the guest’s room without a request from him; she didn’t ask him any questions at all; I didn’t spy (God forbid!) on him. All households were supplied with similar instructions. Even close friends of the owner, with whom Gogol lived, should have known how to behave if they met him and started talking to him. They were informed, among other things, that Gogol hates talking about literature, especially about his works, and therefore in no way should they burden him with questions “what is he writing now?” as well as “where will he go?” or: “Where did you come from?” And he didn't like that either. And in general, they say, such questions in a conversation with him do not lead to anything: he will answer evasively or will not answer anything. If he goes to Little Russia, he will say: to Rome; goes to Rome - he will say: to the village to so-and-so... therefore, why bother in vain!

I was sufficiently “trained” in this area and somehow got used to the concepts of Gogol’s Moscow friends, that he should be treated exactly the way they treated him, that it was extremely natural and simple for me. The noise of Gogol's name, the effect of his visits to Moscow (at least in well-known circles), the desire of many to look at him even through a crack - all this made a very strong impression on me at that time. I confess: approaching the door behind which I was supposed to see Gogol, I felt no less excitement with which, eleven years later, I approached the door of the Marsala hero for the first time *.

The living room was already full. Some sat, others stood, talking to each other. There was only one man walking, a short man, in a black frock coat and trousers similar to trousers, with a cropped haircut, a small mustache, with quick and penetrating eyes of a dark color, somewhat pale. He walked from corner to corner, hands in his pockets, and also talked. His gait was original, shallow, unsteady, as if one leg was constantly trying to jump forward, causing one step to seem wider than the other. There was something loose, clenched, crumpled into a fist in the whole figure. No scope, nothing open anywhere, not in a single movement, not in a single glance. On the contrary, the glances he cast here and there were almost glances from under his brows, obliquely, fleetingly, as if slyly, not directly into the eyes of another, standing in front of him face to face. For someone who is a little familiar with the physiognomies of crests, the crest was immediately visible here. I now realized that it was Gogol, more so than from any portrait. I will note here that none of the existing portraits of Gogol convey him as it should. The best is a lithograph of Gorbunov from a portrait of Ivanov, in a dressing gown. It happened to be better than the original; As for the similarity: it was better to convey this sly, crazy smile - not a smile, this laughter of a sophisticated Ukrainian, as if at the whole world... Gogol’s mine is generally captured most accurately in the essay by E. A. Mamonov by heart*. But this essay suffers from the shortcomings characteristic of works of this kind: many things are incorrect, the nose is longer than Gogol’s; it is as long as Gogol (who at one time occupied himself with his physiognomy) imagined it. Hair is not quite like that. But the tie is tied exactly as Gogol tied it.

The owner introduced me. Gogol asked: “How long have you been in Moscow?” - And when he found out that I live in it permanently, he remarked: “Well, then, let’s talk, let’s talk some more!” - This was his usual phrase when meeting with many, a phrase that meant absolutely nothing, which he immediately forgot.

At lunch, which we all soon sat down to, Gogol did not say much, the most ordinary things.

Then I began to see him at various acquaintances of the Slavophile circle. He kept himself mostly aloof from everyone. If he was sitting and someone sat down with him with the intention of “talking, finding out: is he writing something new?” - he began to doze off, or look into another room, or simply simply got up and left. He betrayed his usual rules if one of the Little Russians, a member of the same Slavophile circle, was among those invited with him. By some mysterious magnet they were immediately drawn to each other: they sat down in a corner and often talked to each other the whole evening, passionately and animatedly, as Gogol (at least to me) never spoke to any of the Great Russians *.

If the Little Russian I mentioned was not present, Gogol’s appearance at the evening, sometimes specially arranged for him, was almost always momentary. He runs through the rooms and takes a look; will sit somewhere on the sofa, mostly completely alone; he would say two or three words to another friend, out of decency, casually, God knows where, flying with his thoughts at that time - and he was like that.

He always wore the same black frock coat and trousers. There was no linen to be seen. I think few people saw Gogol in a tailcoat. On his head, as far as I can remember, he mostly wore a hat, in summer - gray, with large brims.

Once, it seems in the same winter of 1848, there was an evening at Pogodin’s place, at which Shchepkin read something from Gogol. Gogol was right there. After sitting like a perfect idol in the corner, next to the reader, for an hour or an hour and a half, with his gaze directed into an indefinite space, he stood up and disappeared... *

However, his position in those minutes was definitely difficult: it was not he himself who was reading, but someone else; Meanwhile, the whole hall looked not at the reader, but at the author, as if saying: “Ah! That’s what you are, Mr. Gogol, who wrote these funny things for us!”

Another time, Pogodin had scheduled a reading of Ostrovsky’s comedy “We Will Be Numbered Our Own People,” which was then still new, which created a significant stir in all the literary circles of Moscow and St. Petersburg, and therefore there were quite a few people listening: actors, young and old writers, among other things, Countess Rostopchina, only that she appeared in Moscow after a long absence and attracted considerable attention. Gogol was also invited, but arrived in the middle of the reading; He quietly walked to the door and stood at the ceiling. He stood there until the end, apparently listening attentively*.

After reading, he did not say a word. The Countess approached him and asked: “What do you say, Nikolai Vasilyevich?” - “Good, but some inexperience in techniques is visible. This act should be longer, and this one shorter. These laws are learned later, and it is not now that you begin to believe in their immutability.”

He said nothing more, it seems, to anyone that entire evening. As far as I can remember, I never approached Ostrovsky. Later, however, I had the opportunity to notice more than once that Gogol appreciated his talent and considered him the most talented among Moscow writers *. Once, on the day of his name day, which he celebrated when he was in Moscow, always in Pogodin’s garden, Ostrovsky and I were riding from somewhere together in a droshky and met Gogol, heading towards the Devichye Pole *. He jumped off his droshky and invited us to his name day; We immediately turned after him. Lunch, one might say, in the historical alley, where I later saw many memorable dinners with literary significance, passed in the most ordinary way. Gogol was neither cheerful nor boring. Khomyakov, who, among other things, read to us the famous announcement in Moskovskie Vedomosti, spoke and laughed more than anyone else. about wolves with white paws, who appeared that day * . There were young Aksakovs, Koshelev, Shevyrev, Maksimovich...

Countess<Е. П.>Rostopchina started Saturday literary evenings that year, which were attended by all the young Moscow writers of that time. Of the previous ones, only Pogodin appeared occasionally. However, since I also saw N.F. Pavlov there. For some reason, Gogol never stopped by, despite his old acquaintance with the hostess, whom, according to her, he visited very often in Rome. To him first she read her Barona. Gogol listened very carefully and asked to repeat it. After that he said: “Send it without a name to St. Petersburg: they won’t understand and will print it.” She did just that. Whether the one who received it understood it or not, I don’t know, but the poems were published and went unnoticed by the majority. Napoleon's Shadow Few saw it in the picture. When the interpretation appeared abroad, the police were ordered to take away the curious leaflet wherever possible, and this served to increase the spread and fame of the spoken verses *.

The following year, 1850, I saw Gogol most often at Shevyrev’s. They said that he was writing the second volume of “Dead Souls”, but did not read it to anyone, or especially to a very select few. In general, at this time, at this last period of Gogol's life in Russia, it was very rare to hear him read. How spoiled he was then regarding this and how irritable he was, the following incident will sufficiently show. One family very close to Gogol, old, long-term friends, begged him to read something from the “second volume.” All known measures were taken to ensure that no interference occurred. The tea was drunk in advance, the servants were sent away, who were ordered not to enter again without being called; they just forgot to warn the nanny so that she wouldn’t show up at the usual hour with the children saying goodbye. As soon as Gogol sat down and the desired silence reigned, the door creaked, and the nanny, with a string of children, not noticing any signs or waving, went from father to mother, from mother to uncle, from uncle to auntie... Gogol looked and looked at this patriarchal procedure of the evening children said goodbye to their parents, folded up the notebook, took his hat and left. That's what they said.

In that era, Shevyrev, almost the closest to him of all Moscow writers, heard Gogol reading more often than others. He was usually in charge of the sale of Gogol's works. He also kept Gogol’s money; by the way<ему>some special capital was entrusted, from which Shevyrev could, at his own discretion, help poor students, without telling anyone whose money it was. I learned about this from Shevyrev only after Gogol’s death. Finally, Shevyrev corrected, when publishing Gogol’s works, even the very syllable of his friend, who, as we know, did not particularly care about grammar. However, having corrected it, he still had to show Gogol what? and how it was corrected, of course, if the author was in Moscow. At the same time, it happened that Gogol would say: “No, leave it as it is!” The beauty and power of expressing another living expression for him always stood above any grammar.

At that time Gogol lived extremely quietly and secludedly with the count<А. П.>Tolstoy (who later was chief prosecutor) in Talyzin’s house, on Nikitsky Boulevard, occupying the front part of the lower floor, with windows facing the street; while Tolstoy himself occupied the entire top. Here Gogol was looked after like a child, given complete freedom in everything. He didn't care about anything. Lunch, breakfast, tea, dinner were served wherever he ordered. His linen was washed and put in drawers by invisible spirits, unless it was also put on by invisible spirits. In addition to the numerous servants of the house, he was served in his rooms by his own man, from Little Russia, named Semyon, a very young guy, meek and extremely devoted to his master. The silence in the outbuilding was extraordinary. Gogol either walked around the room from corner to corner, or sat and wrote, rolling balls of white bread, about which he told his friends that they helped solve the most complex and difficult problems. One friend collected whole heaps of these balls and kept them reverently... When writing got tired or boring, Gogol went upstairs to the owner, or else he put on a fur coat, and in the summer a Spanish cloak, sleeveless, and set off on foot along Nikitsky Boulevard, mostly to the left out of the gate . It was very easy for me to make these observations, because I then lived just opposite, in the building of a commercial bank.

He wrote very sluggishly at that time. The car deteriorated more and more every day. Gogol became darker and darker...

One day, it seems at Shevyrev’s, one of the guests, despite the system adopted by everyone who knew Gogol of not asking him about anything, especially about literary works and enterprises, could not resist and noticed to him that it was he who had fallen silent: not a line for how long months in a row! They expected simple silence, the way Gogol dealt with such questions, or a meaningless answer. Gogol smiled sadly and said: “Yes! how strangely man is structured: give him everything he wants for complete convenience of life and activities, then he will not do anything; This is where the work won’t work!”

Then, after being silent for a while, he said the following:

“The following case happened to me: I was traveling once between the towns of Gensano and Albano, in the month of July *. In the middle of the road, on a hillock, there is a miserable inn, with a billiard table in the main room, where balls are always rattling and conversations in different languages can be heard. Everyone passing by certainly stops here, especially when it’s hot. I stopped too. At that time I was writing the first volume of Dead Souls and this notebook never left me. I don’t know why, exactly at that moment when I entered this tavern, I wanted to write. I ordered to be given a table, sat down in a corner, took out my briefcase and, amid the thunder of rolling balls, with incredible noise, the running of the servants, in the smoke, in the stuffy atmosphere, I fell into an amazing sleep and wrote an entire chapter without leaving my place. I find these lines to be some of the most inspiring. I have rarely written with such animation. But now no one is knocking around me, and it’s not hot, and it’s not smoky...”

Another time, in a fit of similar literary frankness, also, it seems, at Shevyrev’s. Gogol told me in front of me how he usually writes, what way of writing he considers the best.

"First you need to sketch All as necessary, at least poorly, watery, but decisively All, and forget about this notebook. Then, after a month, two, sometimes more (this will tell itself) take out what you have written and re-read it: you will see that a lot is wrong, a lot is superfluous, and some things are missing. Make corrections and notes in the margins - and throw the notebook again. With a new revision, her new notes are in the margins, and where there is not enough space, take a separate scrap and glue it to the side. When everything is written down in this way, take and rewrite the notebook with your own hand. Here new insights, cuts, additions, and purification of the style will appear of their own accord. Between the previous ones, words will appear that must necessarily be there, but which for some reason do not appear right away. And put the notebook down again. Travel, have fun, do nothing, or at least write something else. The hour will come - I will remember the abandoned notebook: take it, re-read it, correct it in the same way, and when it is spoiled again, rewrite it with your own hand. You will notice at the same time that along with the strengthening of the syllable, with the finishing, the purification of phrases, your hand seems to become stronger; the letters are placed more firmly and decisively. This is how it should be done, in my opinion, eight times. For others, perhaps, you need less, and for others, even more. I do it eight times. Only after the eighth correspondence, certainly with one’s own hand, is the work completely artistically completed and reaches the pearl of creation. Further amendments and revisions will probably spoil the matter; what painters call: sketch. Of course, it is impossible to follow such rules all the time; it is difficult. I'm talking about the ideal. You will let something else in sooner. A person is still a person, not a machine.”

Gogol wrote quite beautifully and legibly, mostly on large-sized white notepaper. This was at least the case with the last of his manuscripts that were completed.

Once I saw Gogol at the Bolshoi Moscow Theater, during a performance of The Inspector General. Khlestakov was played by Shumsky; Mayor Shchepkin. Gogol sat in the first row, opposite the middle of the stage, listened attentively and clapped once or twice *. Usually (as I heard from his friends) he was not too happy with the setting of his plays and did not recognize a single Khlestakov as having completely solved the problem. He almost considered Shumsky to be the best. Shchepkin played in his plays, in his opinion, well. This was one of the people closest to Gogol. Almost all of Gogol's plays were included in Shchepkin's benefit performances and therefore did not give the author anything at all.

In 1851, I happened to live with Gogol at Shevyrev’s dacha, about twenty miles from Moscow, along the Ryazan road. I don’t remember what this dacha or village was called. I arrived earlier, at the invitation of the owner, and was offered a secluded outbuilding, surrounded by old pine trees, to live. Gogol was not expected at all. Suddenly, that same day after lunch, a hired carriage on a pair of gray horses drove up to the porch and Gogol came out, in his Spanish cloak and gray hat, somewhat dusty.

I was alone in the house. The owners were walking somewhere. Gogol entered through the balcony door, quite briskly. We kissed and sat down on the sofa. Gogol did not fail to say his usual phrase: “Well, now let’s talk: I came here to live!..”

The owner who appeared asked me to give up the wing to Gogol, which I did not even have time to occupy. I was given a room in the house, and Gogol immediately moved into the wing with his briefcases. People, as usual, were forbidden to go to him without being called and generally not to hang around the outbuilding uselessly. The anchorite continued to write the second volume of Dead Souls, extracting phrase after phrase from himself with tongs. Shevyrev went to him, and together they read and reread what they had written. This was done with such mystery that one could think that in the outbuilding, under the canopy of old pines, the conspirators were meeting and brewing all sorts of revolution potions. Shevyrev told me that what was written was incomparably higher than the first volume. Alas! Friendship was very involved...

Gogol did not always appear for breakfast and lunch, and if he did, he sat almost without touching a single dish and from time to time swallowing some pills. He then suffered from an upset stomach: he was constantly bored and sluggish in his movements, but not at all thin in appearance. He didn’t talk much and also somehow sluggishly and reluctantly. A smile rarely flashed on his lips. The gaze has lost its former fire and speed. In a word, these were already the ruins of Gogol, and not Gogol.

I left the dacha before and I don’t know how long Gogol stayed there. The summer of that year I lived in my village and, when I returned to Moscow, I heard that Gogol had already written eleven chapters of the second volume, but he was dissatisfied with them all, corrected and rewrote everything... probably the rewriting of these eleven chapters was repeated more than the cherished eight times .

In the winter, at the end of 1851 and at the beginning of 1852, Gogol’s health deteriorated even more. However, he constantly left the house and visited his friends. But around mid-February he began to seriously decline and took ill. At least he was no longer visible making his way along Nikitsky and Tverskoy boulevards. It goes without saying that all the best doctors did not leave his side, including the famous A.I. Over himself. He found it necessary to administer an enema and offered to do it personally. Gogol agreed, but when they began to perform, he screamed in a frantic voice and declared resolutely that he would not allow himself to be tortured, no matter what happened. “What will happen is that you will die!” - said Over. "Well! - answered Gogol. “I’m ready... I’ve already heard voices...”

All this was conveyed to me by those around Gogol at that time. He still did not seem so weak that, looking at him, one would think that he would soon die. He often got out of bed and walked around the room, completely as if he were healthy. Visits from friends seemed to burden him more than to bring him any consolation. Shevyrev complained to me that he received those closest to him too royally; that their meetings became like audiences. A minute later, after two or three words, he is already dozing and extends his hand: “Sorry! something is dormant!” And when the guest left, Gogol immediately jumped up from the sofa and began to walk around the room.

At this time he began to treat his work even more suspiciously, only from the other, religious side. He imagined that, perhaps, there was something dangerous for the morality of readers, capable of irritating and upsetting them. In these thoughts, about a week before his death, he said to his master, Tolstoy: “I will soon die; Please take this notebook to Metropolitan Philaret and ask him to read it, and then, according to his comments, print it.”

Here he handed the count a rather large stack of papers, in the form of several notebooks, folded together and tied with a cord. These were eleven chapters of the second volume of Dead Souls. Tolstoy, wanting to throw away any thought of death from his friend, did not accept the manuscript and said: “Have mercy! “You’re so healthy that maybe tomorrow or the day after tomorrow you’ll take this to Filaret and hear his comments in person.”

Gogol seemed to have calmed down, but that same night, at about two o’clock, he got out of bed, woke up his Semyon and ordered the stove to be lit. Semyon replied that we must first open the pipe upstairs, on the second floor, where everyone is sleeping: you’ll wake him up! “Go there barefoot and open it so as not to wake anyone!” - said Gogol. Semyon went and actually opened the pipe so carefully that no one heard, and, returning, he flooded the stove. When the wood caught fire, Gogol ordered Semyon to throw into the fire the bundle of papers that he had given to Tolstoy in the morning. Semyon told us later that he begged the master on his knees not to do this, but nothing helped: the bundle was thrown, but did not catch fire. Only the corners were burned, but the middle was intact. Then Gogol took out the bundle with a poker and, separating the notebook from the notebook, threw one after another into the oven. So the manuscript, the fruit of so many painful efforts and labors, which undoubtedly contained many beautiful pages, burned.

Was it a minute enlightenment, the moment of high triumph of the spirit over the body, lulled by the flattering words of short-sighted and good-natured friends - the minute when the great artist woke up in a weak man departing for another life and said: “No! this is not what is needed... the task is not completed: burn it!” - Or was it a completely different moment, a moment of mental breakdown? I am ready to stand for the first...

The feat (if it was a feat) was, however, not completely accomplished: Gogol’s sketches were then found in the closet, brought to some completeness and quite cleanly copied by the hand of Gogol himself on large postal sheets *. Did he forget about these notebooks, or did he leave them on purpose?..

On February 21, Gogol passed away. The whole city quickly learned about this. The sculptor Ramazanov immediately removed the mask from the deceased. He put a laurel wreath on it. Two artists unknown to me made a sketch of the face of the deceased, in a coffin, with a laurel wreath on his head. These leaflets circulated around Moscow *. But crude speculation, or maybe just stupidity, then released an absurd lithograph depicting burning of the manuscript: Gogol sits, in a dressing gown, in front of a blazing fireplace, gloomy, with sunken cheeks and eyes. Semyon is kneeling nearby. Death is approaching from behind, with curved attributes. The manuscript is consumed by flames... *

The funeral was solemn. Some of Gogol's acquaintances carried the coffin on their shoulders *. That included me. The snow was extremely deep, with a slight frost. At the Nikitsky Gate we handed over the coffin to the students, who walked around in heaps and constantly asked to replace us. The students carried the coffin to their church, which was considered the most aristocratic and fashionable at that time. The funeral service took place there. Among many high-ranking officials, I saw the trustee of the Moscow educational district, Adjutant General Nazimov, in full uniform. From the university church the coffin was also carried in their arms all the way to the cemetery, to the Danilov Monastery, about six or seven versts. Then I saw Nazimov again, right above the grave, when the coffin was lowered into it.

Gogol was placed not far from Yazykov. The saying of Ephraim the Syrian is written on the tomb: “I will laugh at my bitter words...”

From the author's book

MEMORIES OF YESENIN Quite a lot of memories have been written about Sergei Yesenin. There is a demand for them in Russia, not only because Yesenin’s poems came to the hearts of Russian youth, but also because the fate of many of these “young people” struck him. Nothing to a sober look

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In search of the “final word” About Gogol Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol lived for almost forty-three years, which is not much at all. He entered the literary field at the age of twenty, gained recognition from his best colleagues and the enlightened public at the age of twenty-two, realized

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M. N. Longinov. Memories of Gogol* ...I saw Gogol for the first time at the beginning of 1831. My two older brothers and I became one of his students. This was at the same time when he became a home teacher in the house of P.I. Balabin, and, as far as I remember, somewhat earlier than the acquaintance

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V. P. Gorlenko. Yakim Nimchenko's story about Gogol* ...This is what the poor old man told me, remembering that distant time. They left for St. Petersburg (in 1829*), Gogol, Danilevsky and Yakim. Upon arrival, we stopped at a hotel, somewhere near the Kokushkin Bridge, and then settled on

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J. K. Grot. Memories of Gogol* Before 1849, I rarely met Gogol, although I had known him for a long time. Both of us did not live in St. Petersburg and, only when we came together for a short time from different directions, we sometimes saw each other at P. A. Pletnev’s. But in the same year, in the summer, I was in Moscow, and here we

From the author's book

A. O. Smirnova-Rosset. From “Memories of Gogol”* Paris September 25/13, 1877 How, where exactly and at what time I met Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol, I don’t remember at all. This must seem strange because meeting a wonderful person

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Memories of Nekrasov We arrived in St. Petersburg in May 1853, Olenka and I. We didn't have much money. I had to look for work. Quite soon I was recommended to A. A. Kraevsky by one of the minor writers of that time, my not close, but long-time acquaintance. Kraevsky became

From the author's book

What is eternal in Gogol* Gogol called his laughter bitter. He warned that his gaiety, inexhaustible jokes, a sparkling geyser of ebullient humor - everything that is visible to the world - acquires its special flavor, its piercing power from tears invisible to the world1. What was Gogol crying about?

“Every trait of a great artist is a property of history.”

Victor Hugo.

Here are some of Gogol's originalities. The Gymnasium of Higher Sciences of Prince Bezborodko was divided into three museums, or departments, into which we entered and left in pairs; So they took us for walks. Each museum had its own warden. In the third museum the warden was a German, 3, ugly, clumsy and extremely antipathetic: tall, lean, with long, thin and crooked legs, almost without calves; his face somehow protruded forward ugly and strongly resembled a pig's snout... his long arms dangled as if tied; stooped, with a stupid expression of colorless and lifeless eyes and with some strange hairstyle. But with his long curves, Zeldner took such gigantic steps that we were not happy with him. Almost immediately, he’s here: one, two, three, and Zeldner from the front pair is already at the back; Well, it just doesn’t give us a move. So Gogol decided to moderate the excessive agility of this big-haired (long-legged) German and composed the following quatrain about Seldner:

Gizel - the face of a pig,

Crane legs;

The same little devil in the swamp,

Just put your horns on!

Let's go, Seldner is ahead; suddenly the rear couples sing these poems - he steps, and is already here. “Who was the bumblebee singing, what was she singing?” Silence and no one blinks an eye. The front couples will sing there - Seldner steps there - and there too; we delay again - he comes to us again, and again without an answer. We laugh until Zeldner stops walking, walks silently and just looks around and wags his finger. Sometimes we can’t stand it and burst out laughing. It went well. Such fun gave Gogol and all of us great pleasure and moderated Seldner’s giant strides. We had a comrade R, a tall, extremely suspicious and gullible young man, about eighteen years old. Ritter had his own lackey, old man Semyon. Gogol was interested in his comrade’s excessive suspiciousness, and he pulled the following trick on him: “You know, Ritter, I’ve been watching you for a long time and noticed that you don’t have human eyes, but bull eyes... but I still doubted and didn’t want to tell you, but now I see , that this is an undoubted truth - you have bull’s eyes ... "

He takes Ritter several times to the mirror, he peers intently, changes his face, trembles, and Gogol gives all kinds of evidence and finally completely assures Ritter that he has bull eyes.

Gogol’s idea has matured, and, presumably, for “Evenings on a Farm.” He needed time - so he played the role of a madman, and amazingly correctly! Then they already guessed.

On the small stage of the second lyceum museum, lyceum students sometimes liked to perform comic and dramatic plays on holidays. Gogol and Prokopovich - close friends with each other - took special care of this and staged performances. The lyceum students themselves played ready-made plays and composed them. Gogol and Prokopovich were the main authors and performers of the plays. Gogol loved mainly comic plays and took the roles of old people, and Prokopovich - tragic ones. One day they composed a play about Little Russian life, in which Gogol undertook to play the silent role of a decrepit old Little Russian man. We learned the roles and did several rehearsals. The evening of the performance arrived, to which many relatives of the lyceum students and strangers gathered. The play consisted of two acts; the first act went well, but Gogol did not appear in it, but should have appeared in the second. The public did not yet know Gogol, but we knew him well and were looking forward to his appearance on stage. In the second act, a simple Little Russian hut and several naked trees are presented on stage; in the distance there is a river and yellowed reeds. There is a bench near the hut; there is no one on stage.

Here comes a decrepit old man in a simple jacket, a sheepskin cap and greased boots. Leaning on a stick, he can barely move, cacklingly reaches the bench and sits down. Sits shaking, cackling, giggling and coughing; and finally he giggled and coughed with such a suffocating and hoarse old man’s cough, with an unexpected addition, that the entire audience roared and burst into uncontrollable laughter... And the old man calmly rose from the bench and trudged off the stage, killing everyone with laughter...

MEMORIES OF CONTEMPORARIES ABOUT N.V. GOGOL

T. G. PASCHENKO

FEATURES FROM GOGOL'S LIFE

“Every trait of a great artist is a property of history.”

Victor Hugo.

Gizel - the face of a pig,
Crane legs;
The same little devil in the swamp,
Just put your horns on!

He takes Ritter several times to the mirror, he peers intently, changes his face, trembles, and Gogol gives all kinds of evidence and finally completely assures Ritter that he has bull eyes.

Gogol’s idea has matured, and, presumably, for “Evenings on a Farm.” He needed time - so he played the role of a madman, and amazingly correctly! Then they already guessed.

From that evening on, the public recognized and became interested in Gogol as a wonderful comedian. Another time, Gogol took on the role of an old uncle - a terrible miser. Gogol practiced in this role for more than a month, and the main task for him was to get his nose to meet his chin... He sat for hours in front of the mirror and adjusted his nose to his chin, until he finally achieved what he wanted... He played the satirical role of the miser uncle excellently , filled the audience with laughter and gave them great pleasure. We all thought then that Gogol would go on stage, because he had enormous stage talent and all the data for acting on stage: facial expressions, make-up, variable voice and complete transformation in the roles he played. It seems that Gogol would have eclipsed even the famous comedians if he had appeared on stage.

Former Minister of Justice, Troshchinsky lived in his rich and famous estate - Kibintsy, in a magnificent palace... Gogol's father was Troshchinsky's neighbor and often came to visit the decrepit old man with his wife, Gogol's mother - a wondrous beauty. They took Nikolai Vasilyevich with them. Upon leaving the Lyceum, Gogol, Danilevsky and Pashchenko (Ivan Grigorievich) decided to go to St. Petersburg for service in 1829. Troshchinsky gave Gogol a letter of recommendation to the Minister of Public Education. So they arrived in St. Petersburg, stopped at a modest hotel and occupied one room in the front room. The friends lived for a week, then lived for another, and Gogol kept getting ready to go with a letter to the minister; got ready, put it off from day to day, so six weeks passed, and Gogol did not go... He still had the letter.