Passages to memorize from the novel
"War and Peace" (two optional)
I. Sky of Austerlitz
What is this? I'm falling! My legs are giving way,” he thought and fell on his back. He opened his eyes, hoping to see how the fight between the French and the artillerymen ended, and wanting to know whether the red-haired artilleryman was killed or not, whether the guns were taken or saved. But he didn't see anything. There was nothing above him anymore except the sky - a high sky, not clear, but still immeasurably high, with gray clouds quietly creeping across it. “How quiet, calm and solemn, not at all like how I ran,” thought Prince Andrei, “not like how we ran, shouted and fought; It’s not at all like how the Frenchman and the artilleryman pulled the banner from each other with embittered and frightened faces - not at all like how the clouds crawl across this high endless sky. How come I haven’t seen this high sky before? And how happy I am that I finally recognized him. Yes! everything is empty, everything is deception, except this endless sky. There is nothing, nothing, except him. But even that is not there, there is nothing but silence, calm. And thank God!.. "
I.Description of oak
There was an oak tree on the edge of the road. Probably ten times older than the birches that made up the forest, it was ten times thicker and twice as tall as each birch. It was a huge oak tree, two girths wide, with branches that had been broken off for a long time and with broken bark overgrown with old sores. With his huge clumsy, asymmetrically splayed, gnarled hands and fingers, he stood like an old, angry and contemptuous freak between the smiling birch trees. Only he alone did not want to submit to the charm of spring and did not want to see either spring or the sun.
"Spring, and love, and happiness!" - it was as if this oak tree was speaking. - And how can you not get tired of the same stupid and senseless deception? Everything is the same, and everything is a lie! There is no spring, no sun, no happiness. Look there, the crushed dead spruce trees are sitting, always alone, and there I am, spreading out my broken, skinned fingers, wherever they grew - from the back, from the sides; As we grew up, I still stand, and I don’t believe your hopes and deceptions.”
Prince Andrei looked back at this oak tree several times while driving through the forest, as if he was expecting something from it. There were flowers and grass under the oak tree, but he still stood in the midst of them, frowning, motionless, ugly and stubborn.
“Yes, he is right, this oak tree is right a thousand times,” thought Prince Andrei, let others, young people, again succumb to this deception, but we know life, “our life is over!” A whole new series of hopeless, but sadly pleasant thoughts in connection with this oak tree arose in the soul of Prince Andrei. During this journey, he seemed to think about his whole life again, and came to the same old reassuring and hopeless conclusion that he did not need to start anything, that he should live out his life without doing evil, without worrying and without wanting anything.
III. Description of oak
“Yes, here, in this forest, there was this oak tree, with which we agreed,” thought Prince Andrei. “But where is it,” thought Prince Andrei again, looking at the left side of the road and, without knowing it, without recognizing him , admired the oak tree he was looking for. The old oak tree, completely transformed, spread out like a tent of lush, dark greenery, swayed slightly, swaying slightly in the rays of the evening sun. No gnarled fingers, no sores, no old mistrust and grief - nothing was visible. Juicy, young leaves broke through the tough, hundred-year-old bark without knots, so it was impossible to believe that this old man had produced them. “Yes, this is the same oak tree,” thought Prince Andrei, and suddenly an unreasonable spring feeling of joy and renewal came over him. All the best moments of his life suddenly came back to him at the same time. And Austerlitz with the high sky, and the dead, reproachful face of his wife, and Pierre on the ferry, and the girl excited by the beauty of the night, and this night, and the moon - and all this suddenly came to his mind.
“No, life is not over at the age of 31,” Prince Andrei suddenly finally, unchangeably decided. Not only do I know everything that is in me, it is necessary for everyone to know it: both Pierre and this girl who wanted to fly into the sky, it is necessary for everyone to know me, so that my life does not go on for me alone, so that they do not live so independently of my life, so that it is reflected on everyone and so that they all live with me!”
IV. Natasha's dance
Natasha threw off the scarf that was draped over her, ran ahead of her uncle and, putting her hands on her hips, made a movement with her shoulders and stood.
Where, how, when did this Countess, raised by a French emigrant, suck into herself from that Russian air that she breathed, this spirit, where did she get these techniques that dancing with a shawl should have long ago supplanted? But the spirit and techniques were the same, inimitable, unstudied, Russian, which her uncle expected from her. As soon as she stood up, smiled solemnly, proudly and slyly and cheerfully, the first fear that gripped Nikolai and everyone present, the fear that she would do the wrong thing, passed, and they were already admiring her.
She did the same thing and did it so precisely, so completely accurately that Anisia Fedorovna, who immediately handed her the scarf necessary for her business, burst into tears through laughter, looking at this thin, graceful, so alien to her, well-bred countess in silk and velvet. , who knew how to understand everything that was in Anisya, and in Anisya’s father, and in her aunt, and in her mother, and in every Russian person.
L.N. Tolstoy "War and Peace" Meeting of Prince Andrei Bolkonsky with an oak tree
"...On the edge of the road stood an oak tree. It was probably ten times older than the birches that made up the forest, ten times thicker and twice as tall as each birch. It was a huge oak tree, twice the girth, with broken branches and bark , overgrown with old sores. With huge, clumsily, asymmetrically splayed, gnarled arms and fingers, he stood like an old, angry and contemptuous freak between the smiling birches. Only he alone did not want to submit to the charm of spring and did not want to see either spring or the sun.
This oak tree seemed to say: “Spring, and love, and happiness! And how can you not get tired of the same stupid, senseless deception! Everything is the same, and everything is a lie! There is no spring, no sun, no happiness. Look, there are the crushed dead spruce trees sitting, always alone, and there I spread out my broken, skinned fingers, growing from the back, from the sides - anywhere. As I grew up, I still stand, and I don’t believe your hopes and deceptions.”
Prince Andrei looked back at this oak tree several times while driving through the forest. There were flowers and grass under the oak tree, but he still stood in the middle of them, gloomy, motionless, ugly and stubborn.
“Yes, he’s right, this oak tree is right a thousand times,” thought Prince Andrei. “Let others, young people, succumb to this deception again, but we know: our life is over!” A whole series of thoughts, hopeless, but sadly pleasant, in connection with this oak tree arose in the soul of Prince Andrei. During this journey, he seemed to think over his whole life again and came to the same reassuring and hopeless conclusion that he did not need to start anything, that he should live out his life without doing evil, without worrying and without wanting anything...
It was already the beginning of June when Prince Andrei, returning home, again drove into that birch grove in which this old, gnarled oak had struck him so strangely and memorably. “Here in this forest there was this oak tree that we agreed with. Where is he? - thought Prince Andrei, looking at the left side of the road. Without knowing it, he admired the oak tree he was looking for, but now he did not recognize it.
The old oak tree, completely transformed, spread out like a tent of lush, dark greenery, swayed slightly, swaying slightly in the rays of the evening sun. No gnarled fingers, no sores, no old grief and mistrust - nothing was visible. Juicy, young leaves broke through the hundred-year-old hard bark without knots, so it was impossible to believe that it was the old man who produced them. “Yes, this is the same oak tree,” thought Prince Andrei, and suddenly an unreasonable spring feeling of joy and renewal came over him. All the best moments of his life suddenly came back to him at the same time. And Austerlitz with the high sky, and Pierre on the ferry, and the girl excited by the beauty of the night, and this night, and the moon - all this suddenly came to his mind.
“No, life is not over at thirty-one,” Prince Andrei suddenly finally and irrevocably decided. - Not only do I know everything that is in me, it is necessary that everyone knows it: both Pierre and this girl who wanted to fly into the sky. It is necessary that my life should not go on for me alone, that it should be reflected on everyone and that they all live with me together.”
There was an oak tree on the edge of the road. Probably ten times older than the birches that made up the forest, it was ten times thicker, and twice as tall as each birch. It was a huge oak tree, twice the girth, with branches that had apparently been broken off for a long time and with broken bark overgrown with old sores. With his huge, clumsily, asymmetrically splayed, gnarled arms and fingers, he stood like an old, angry and contemptuous freak between the smiling birch trees. Only he alone did not want to submit to the charm of spring and did not want to see either spring or the sun.
“Spring, and love, and happiness! - it was as if this oak tree was speaking. - And how can you not get tired of the same stupid, senseless deception! Everything is the same, and everything is a lie! There is no spring, no sun, no happiness. Look, there are the crushed dead spruce trees sitting, always the same, and there I am, spreading out my broken, skinned fingers, wherever they grew - from the back, from the sides. As I grew up, I still stand, and I don’t believe your hopes and deceptions.”
Prince Andrei looked back at this oak tree several times while driving through the forest, as if he was expecting something from it. There were flowers and grass under the oak tree, but he still stood in the midst of them, frowning, motionless, ugly and stubborn.
“Yes, he is right, this oak tree is right a thousand times,” thought Prince Andrei, “let others, young people, again succumb to this deception, but we know life, our life is over!” A whole new series of hopeless, but sadly pleasant thoughts in connection with this oak tree arose in the soul of Prince Andrei. During this journey, he seemed to think about his whole life again and came to the same old, reassuring and hopeless conclusion that he didn’t need to start anything, that he should live out his life without doing evil, without worrying and without wanting anything. .
On the side of the road stood an oak. Probably ten times as old birches that formed the forest, he was ten times as thick and twice as each birch. It was a huge, two girth oak, with broken long ago, it is clear and females with broken bark overgrown old sores. With its huge clumsy asymmetrically splayed gnarled hands and fingers, he was old, angry and scornful monster stood between the smiling birches. Only he did not want to obey the charm of spring and did not want to see no spring, no sun.
"Spring, love and happiness! - As if to say that oak. - And it does not bother you all the same stupid meaningless hype! All the same, and all the hype! There is no spring, no sun, no happiness. Vaughn see, sit crushed dead spruce, always the same, and there I spread out my broken off, skinned fingers, where neither they grew - from the back, from the sides. As grown - so I stand, and I do not believe your hopes and deceptions."
Prince Andrew looked several times at this oak, passing through the woods, as if he were waiting for something from him. Flowers and grass were under an oak tree, but he was still frowning, still, ugly and hard, stood among them.
"Yes, he"s right, a thousand times right this oak - thought Prince Andrew - let other young again lend themselves to this deception, and we know life - our life is over!" A whole new range of bad thoughts, but sadly - pleasing in connection with the oak originated in the soul of Prince Andrew. During this journey he seemed once again thought about all his life and came to the same still, soothing and hopelessness, the conclusion that it was nothing to start it is not necessary that he should live out their lives without doing evil, not worrying and wanting nothing.
] for a new meeting with Emperor Napoleon, and in high society in St. Petersburg there was a lot of talk about the greatness of this solemn meeting.
In 1809, the closeness of the two rulers of the world, as Napoleon and Alexander were called, reached the point that when Napoleon declared war on Austria that year, the Russian corps went abroad to assist their former enemy, Bonaparte, against their former ally, the Austrian Emperor, to the point that in high society they talked about the possibility of a marriage between Napoleon and one of the sisters of Emperor Alexander. But, in addition to external political considerations, at this time the attention of Russian society was especially keenly drawn to the internal transformations that were being carried out at that time in all parts of public administration.
Life, meanwhile, the real life of people with their essential interests of health, illness, work, rest, with their interests of thought, science, poetry, music, love, friendship, hatred, passions, went on, as always, independently and without political affinity or enmity with Napoleon Bonaparte and beyond all possible transformations.
Prince Andrei lived in the village for two years without a break. All those enterprises on estates that Pierre started and did not bring to any result, constantly moving from one thing to another, all these enterprises, without expressing them to anyone and without noticeable labor, were carried out by Prince Andrei.
He had, to a high degree, that practical tenacity that Pierre lacked, which, without scope or effort on his part, set things in motion. One of his estates of three hundred peasant souls was transferred to free cultivators (this was one of the first examples in Russia); in others, corvee was replaced by quitrent. In Bogucharovo, a learned grandmother was written out to his account to help mothers in labor, and for a salary the priest taught the children of peasants and courtyard servants to read and write.
Prince Andrei spent one half of his time in Bald Mountains with his father and son, who was still with the nannies; the other half of the time in the Bogucharov monastery, as his father called his village. Despite the indifference he showed Pierre to all external events of the world, he diligently followed them, received many books and, to his surprise, noticed when fresh people came to him or his father from St. Petersburg, from the very whirlpool of life, that these people in knowledge of everything that is happening in foreign and domestic policy, they are far behind him, who sits in the village all the time.
In addition to classes on names, in addition to general reading of a wide variety of books, Prince Andrei was at this time engaged in a critical analysis of our last two unfortunate campaigns and drawing up a project to change our military regulations and regulations.
In the spring of 1809, Prince Andrei went to the Ryazan estates of his son, of whom he was the guardian.
Warmed by the spring sun, he sat in the stroller, looking at the first grass, the first birch leaves and the first clouds of white spring clouds scattering across the bright blue sky. He didn’t think about anything, but looked around cheerfully and meaninglessly.
We passed the carriage on which he had spoken with Pierre a year ago. We drove through a dirty village, threshing floors, greenery, a descent with remaining snow near the bridge, an ascent through washed-out clay, stripes of stubble and green bushes here and there, and entered a birch forest on both sides of the road. It was almost hot in the forest; you couldn’t hear the wind. The birch, all covered with green sticky leaves, did not move, and from under last year’s leaves, lifting them, the first grass and purple flowers crawled out, turning green. The small spruce trees scattered here and there throughout the birch forest, with their coarse, eternal greenness, were an unpleasant reminder of winter. The horses snorted as they entered the forest and began to fog up.
Lackey Peter said something to the coachman, the coachman answered in the affirmative. But, apparently, the coachman’s sympathy was not enough for Peter: he turned on the box to the master.
Your Excellency, how easy it is! - he said, smiling respectfully.
Easy, your Excellency.
“Mon cher,” Princess Marya used to say, entering at such a moment. - Nikolushka can’t go for a walk today: it’s very cold.
If it were warm,” Prince Andrei answered his sister especially dryly at such moments, “then he would go in just a shirt, but since it’s cold, we need to put warm clothes on him, which were invented for this purpose, that’s what follows from this: “that it’s cold, and not like staying at home when the child needs air,” he said with particular logic, as if punishing someone for all this secret, illogical inner work taking place within him. Princess Marya thought in these cases about how this mental work dries out men.
We passed the carriage on which he had spoken with Pierre a year ago. We drove through a dirty village, threshing floors, greenery*, a descent with remaining snow near the bridge, an ascent through washed-out clay, stripes of stubble and green bushes here and there, and entered a birch forest on both sides of the road. It was almost hot in the forest; you couldn’t hear the wind. The birch, all covered with green sticky leaves, did not move, and from under last year’s leaves, lifting them, the first grass and purple flowers crawled out, turning green. Small spruce trees scattered here and there throughout the birch forest with their coarse, eternal greenery were an unpleasant reminder of winter. The horses snorted as they entered the forest and began to fog up.
Lackey Peter said something to the coachman, the coachman answered in the affirmative. But, apparently, the coachman’s sympathy was not enough for Peter: he turned on the box to the master.
Your Excellency, how easy it is! - he said, smiling respectfully.
Easy, your Excellency.
"Thu O He says? - thought Prince Andrei. “Yes, about spring, that’s right,” he thought, looking around. - And then everything is green already... how soon! And the birch, and the bird cherry, and the alder are already starting... And the oak is unnoticeable. Yes, here it is, the oak tree."
There was an oak tree on the edge of the road. Probably ten times older than the birches that made up the forest, it was ten times thicker and twice as tall as each birch. It was a huge oak tree, double the girth, with branches that had apparently been broken off long ago and with broken bark overgrown with old sores. With his huge, clumsily, asymmetrically splayed, gnarled arms and fingers, he stood like an old, angry and contemptuous freak between the smiling birch trees. Only he alone did not want to submit to the charm of spring and did not want to see either spring or the sun.
“Spring, and love, and happiness!” - as if this oak tree was saying. - And how can you not get tired of the same stupid, senseless deception? Everything is the same, and everything is a deception! "Happiness. Look, there sit crushed dead spruce trees, always the same, and there I spread out my broken, tattered fingers, wherever they grew - from the back, from the sides. As they grew, I stand, and I don’t believe your hopes and deceptions." .
Prince Andrei looked back at this oak tree several times while driving through the forest, as if he was expecting something from it. There were flowers and grass under the oak tree, but he still stood in the midst of them, frowning, motionless, ugly and stubborn.
“Yes, he is right, this oak tree is right a thousand times,” thought Prince Andrei, “let others, young people, again succumb to this deception, but we know life, our life is over!” A whole new series of hopeless, but sadly pleasant thoughts in connection with this oak tree arose in the soul of Prince Andrei. During this journey, he seemed to think about his whole life again and came to the same old, reassuring and hopeless conclusion that he didn’t need to start anything, that he should live out his life without doing evil, without worrying and without wanting anything. .
II
On guardianship matters of the Ryazan estate, Prince Andrei had to see the district leader. The leader was Count Ilya Andreevich Rostov, and Prince Andrei went to see him in mid-May.
It was already a hot period of spring. The forest was already completely dressed, there was dust and it was so hot that, driving past the water, I wanted to swim.
Prince Andrei, gloomy and preoccupied with considerations about what and what he needed to ask the leader about matters, drove up the garden alley to the Rostovs’ Otradnensky house. To the right, from behind the trees, he heard a woman's cheerful cry and saw a crowd of girls running across his stroller. Ahead of the others, closer, a black-haired, very thin, strangely thin, black-eyed girl in a yellow chintz dress, tied with a white handkerchief, was running up to the carriage, from under which strands of combed hair were sticking out. The girl shouted something, but, recognizing the stranger, without looking at him, she ran back laughing.
Prince Andrey suddenly felt pain for some reason. The day was so good, the sun was so bright, everything was so cheerful; and this thin and pretty girl did not know and did not want to know about his existence and was content and happy with some kind of separate, perhaps stupid, but cheerful and happy life of hers. “Why is she so happy? What is she thinking about? Not about the military regulations, not about the structure of the Ryazan quitrents. What is she thinking about? And why is she happy?” - Prince Andrei involuntarily asked himself with curiosity.
Count Ilya Andreich in 1809 lived in Otradnoye in the same way as before, that is, hosting almost the entire province, with hunts, theaters, dinners and musicians. He, like any new guest, was glad to see Prince Andrei and almost forcibly left him to spend the night.
During the boring day, during which Prince Andrei was occupied by the senior hosts and the most honorable of the guests, with whom the old count's house was full on the occasion of the approaching name day, Bolkonsky, glancing several times at Natasha, who was laughing at something, having fun among the other, young half of the company, I kept asking myself: “What is she thinking about? Why is she so happy?”
In the evening, left alone in a new place, he could not fall asleep for a long time. He read, then put out the candle and lit it again. It was hot in the room with the shutters closed from the inside. He was annoyed with this stupid old man (as he called Rostov), who detained him, assuring him that the necessary papers in the city had not yet been delivered, and he was annoyed with himself for staying.
Prince Andrei stood up and went to the window to open it. As soon as he opened the shutters, moonlight, as if he had been on guard at the window for a long time waiting for it, rushed into the room. He opened the window. The night was fresh and stillly bright. Just in front of the window there was a row of trimmed trees, black on one side and silver-lit on the other. Under the trees there was some kind of lush, wet, curly vegetation with silvery leaves and stems here and there. Further behind the black trees there was some kind of roof shining with dew, to the right a large curly tree, with a bright white trunk and branches, and above it was an almost full moon in a bright, almost starless spring sky. Prince Andrei leaned his elbows on the window, and his eyes stopped at this sky.
Prince Andrei's room was on the middle floor; They also lived in the rooms above it and did not sleep. He heard a woman talking from above.
Just one more time,” said a female voice from above, which Prince Andrei now recognized.
When will you sleep? - answered another voice.
I won’t, I can’t sleep, what should I do! Well, last time...
Oh, how lovely! Well, now go to sleep and that's the end.
“You sleep, but I can’t,” answered the first voice approaching the window. She apparently leaned completely out of the window, because the rustling of her dress and even her breathing could be heard. Everything became silent and petrified, like the moon and its light and shadows. Prince Andrei was also afraid to move, so as not to betray his involuntary presence.
III
The next day, having said goodbye to only one count, without waiting for the ladies to leave, Prince Andrei went home.
It was already the beginning of June when Prince Andrei, returning home, again drove into that birch grove in which this old, gnarled oak had struck him so strangely and memorably. The bells rang even more muffled in the forest than a month ago; everything was full, shady and dense; and the young spruces, scattered throughout the forest, did not disturb the overall beauty and, imitating the general character, were tenderly green with fluffy young shoots.
It was hot all day, a thunderstorm was gathering somewhere, but only a small cloud splashed on the dust of the road and on the succulent leaves. The left side of the forest was dark, in shadow; the right one, wet, glossy, glistened in the sun, slightly swaying in the wind. Everything was in bloom; the nightingales chattered and rolled, now close, now far away.