Mute Onegin. Part eight

Mute Onegin. Part I.

Mute Onegin. Part II.

Mute Onegin. Part III.

Mute Onegin. Part IV.

Mute Onegin. Part V.

Mute Onegin. Part VI.

Mute Onegin. Part VII.

photo: Alexander Minkin
Dueling pistols 1820. Workshop J. B. Ronge Fils A Liege. Barrel length is 10 inches.


In a large masterpiece — “Eugene Onegin” — is a gold mine of masterpieces. After all, when the poet suddenly comes to a happy thought or a rhyme, or simply a seductive note, sound, focus, etc., it is a pity to throw. Need somewhere to paste, to good not to waste. So many miracles and was in “Onegin” again for eight years!

…What is a cat? Deft, fluffy, thick. Pushkin saw in this character.

Cutesy cat, sitting on the stove,
Purrs, paw stigma of Soaps.

Cutesy is so great that Pushkin did not spare labour, and the second line — the impossible charms. Moore-ly-La dug-soap — best purring in Russian literature we did not come across.
A few episodes of “Onegin” — a real movie. One was described in the beginning: a long cross huge distance, and Pushkin took in two lines:

Curtain walls, bridges, meadow,
Alley to the lake, woods

Here is another absolutely cinematic fast shooting: three fourths in seven rows. And not a bare enumeration of the seasons, and pictures, even sound, with howling.

But the fast summer flies.
It is autumn gold.
Nature, tremulous, pale,
As a victim, lavish.
Here the North, scolding clouds,
Breathed, howled — and here itself
There is a fairy winter.

There always remains unnoticed poetic diamond: howling wind, and the North! The wind howls — the banality. North howling — horror.

And incredibly he was able to stretch the time. Look — time lapse:

Here are the guns really flashed,
Rattles on the rod the hammer.
In faceted barrel leaving the bullet
And clicked the first time the trigger.
Here are the stream gunpowder grayish
On the shelf pours. Gear,
Securely screwed in flint
Cocked also…

“Still ticking” — not dropped, not made a spark.

You rate mega plan? That we saw only in the late XX century. The beginning of the movie “Schindler’s List”: rattle keys on a typewriter, and each following letter in full screen.

photo: Alexander Minkin
To each pair of dueling pistols came with a Toolkit.

The glare of the sun on the guns, the pounding of a hammer on the ramrod, the ramrod pushes the bullet into the faceted barrel (carefully, because the bullet is hammered all the way to the contact with the wad, the powder, and stupid strong shot gunpowder can explode, then the bullet with the cleaning rod will fly directly into the eyes of charging), the trigger is pulled back and, with a distinctive click, is fixed in the cocked position of the locker (metal flask) pours the powder on the shelf where then will flash (from a spark that will cause the strike of flint on steel) and through the hole in the barrel will ignite the charge… Believe me: Pushkin’s contemporaries, 7-8 reading these lines, have seen and heard everything. Saw no less brightly than we did in the movie. For imagination they had developed much stronger than us. No TVs, no movies, no screens with moving image, no photos. Reading, they all fancied themselves, and because every word, every phrase in them trained on the imagination of the minds turned into a living picture. By the way, they didn’t have to explain that, “faceted barrel leaving the bullet” means in each gun one at a time; numeral difference (barrel — one bullet — a lot) then no one could be confusing.

Let’s sing! Well we still never sang. Opera “Eugene Onegin” ahead of us, and while we sing it ourselves, without Tchaikovsky and chapel, the famous “Dugout”.

…Beats in close stove fire
On logs resin as a tear…
You’re far, far away
Between you and snow and snow…
Before you reach me is not easy,
And to death four steps.

…The human tongue has a favorite number. They prefer poets and people. First three, the second seven. Three Musketeers, the Seven samurai, the Three sisters, the Magnificent seven. In fairy tales always three brothers, three girls under the window spun late, etc. One step to two steps from the house… Four steps in folklore, in fairy tales, in conversations, in jokes do not happen.

Where in “the Dugout” four steps to death? But the most famous duel in world literature:

“Now together!”
Still not aiming, two enemies
Gait solid, quiet, exactly
The four moved a step
Four mortal stage.

“Onegin” for almost two centuries in the minds of all Russian poets. So Surkov, the author of “the Dugout”. It is unlikely that he specifically wrote “four.” Just Pushkin all the time. He created the language around and within us, we breathe them, not noticing. Imbibe from the cradle: there stands a green oak, sailed to his Fish and asked: I only weapon in the fairest of them all?..

photo: Alexander Minkin

Here and Marshak: from childhood favorite story about the guy who saved the girl from burning house — climbed the drainpipe and went for the ledge:

The black smoke hanging veil,
Breaks out the fire from the window.
Barely standing on the ledge leg
But the balcony four steps.

XXII. MARKED DECK, or the Queen of WOMAN

The Queen of spades means all sorts of rubbish.

In the beginning of the century “Onegin” staged in the theater School of dramatic art. An unforgettable impression. Several actors and comely Actresses (pieces 13-15), raspadas the stage, loudly and distinctly uttered the text.

Let us denote male actors with the letter M, and women, respectively, and will try to show here, on paper, at least the beginning of the play. Of course, you will not hear loud voices, you will not see faces, figures and gestures, but your imagination, hope you will help. That’s how it was done:

M-1. My!
W-1. Ah!
M-2. Ah!
W-2. The!
M-3. Honest!
W-3. Great!
M-4. Vil!
W-4. Ko!
M-5. GDS!

And so all the way: either two, or three, or four hours — I do not remember. I remember the terror. It was difficult, thoroughly rehearsed and absolutely cold-blooded murder. The dismemberment of the text is not a phrase but a word, the pieces of words — in the pursuit, probably for the “music text” in attempts to catch (as dried butterfly) to put under the glass of Pushkin’s Muse.

The actors on stage shouted out the letters of “Onegin”, and in the brain (I suspect, not just me) constantly sounded: Music I rashal as a corpse.

The phrase has surfaced itself, and then — in front of us was Salieri multiplied tremendously. Reproduced as a Director on a dozen small-brained demons. The fact that Salieri ever did with Mozart (Pushkin’s tragedy), now on Sretenka collective Salieri did with Pushkin. The music he has rashal, like a corpse, now took up poetry. It vanished, flew away to the other world; there is a sound; and for the Director, surely, was any sense. What? Can’t even tell whether they’re that way I read a novel or reduced.

…And then the event drifted into prose. Small pure theatre went with the trump Queen of spades. I was ashamed to look and to write did not become ashamed. Well, Yes from the song words can not erase. Leave a small direction, leave helpless cardboard game artists. We can only say about the text, which sounds from the scene from the mouth-moving people there, which supposedly wearing historical costumes.

In the story “Queen of spades” conversations much more than in “Onegin”. But still not enough. On the play in two acts does not suffice. I had to finish. Not to say that the lady grew up, but heavier of course. It smashed, now is a woman. She is swollen up like a merchant’s wife Ostrovsky — fatty dirty talking.

That’s two lines — I’m a genius, no doubt!
Give admiration, laurels and flowers! —
Here are two lines: “I remember this wonderful moment,
When you appeared before me!”

Vysotsky genius disfigured a famous line by adding the stupid “it’s” and “when”. But he did it as a joke, and the “Lady” topped up seriously. The audience thinks it’s Pushkin (so the poster says). No, it’s a Zhitinkin. He threw Pushkin, like alcohol, but not to forty degrees, and one to the yogurt, thinner than ever. It’s not even carrot coffee.

Every film translates text into the language of the scene. Bad translator — like a frustrated piano. And a genius composer, and pianist (artist), put, good, and the music sounds pathetic, phony, clumsy.
And the eponymous play “Queen of spades”, and the Maly theatre is extremely modern. In the sense that now so lay asphalt: potholes, cracks, joints sticking out, the hatches fail.

But more than anything, the play resembles a comic book, where the images of men portrayed in addition to explaining sounds: Murrah!!! — punch; y-y-y! — the threat or the wolf behind the bushes; E! — a cry of pain and astonishment. All men have bubbles coming out of his mouth words.

photo: Alexander Minkin

In “Queen of spades” Pushkin — is less than seven thousand words. In the same play Zhitinkin almost eleven thousand (the computer instantly finds). But you’re wrong if you decide that the Zhitinkin level to the text of Pushkin’s only 50 percent. No, the reality is much rougher.

In Pushkin’s dialogues quite a bit. The play is the same — a solid dialogue. From Pushkin crumbs remained. Sluggish and dull, the text is almost fully composed by the Director. On the poster — the gold name, and on stage is a fake. Not even fool’s gold, and just papier-mache (chewed paper). Not to be unfounded, we offer reader to enjoy:

Here is the episode of natural “the Queen of spades”:

And, my dear! What good is it? Isn’t she like her grandmother, the Princess Daria Petrovna? By the way: I have tea, it is very old, the Princess Daria Petrovna?
— How old? — answered absently Tomsk — it is seven years since he died.
The young lady raised her head and made a sign to the young man. He remembered that the old Countess concealed the death of her contemporaries, and he bit his lip. But the old Countess heard the news with the greatest indifference.
— Died! she said, — I don’t know. We were appointed maids of honour, and when we were presented to the Empress…
And the Countess for the hundredth time related to her grandson one of her anecdotes.
— Well, Paul, — she said — now help me up. Lizanka, where is my snuff-box?
And the Countess with her maids went behind a screen to finish her toilette. Tomsky was left alone with the young lady.
— Who you want to represent? — quietly asked Lizaveta Ivanovna.
— Narumov. Do you know him?
— No! He is a military or a civilian?
— The military.
— Engineer?
— No! trooper. What made you think that he is an engineer?
The young lady smiled, and answered not a word.
— Paul! — cried the Countess from behind Shirov, — send me some new novel, only pray not the current one.

Note: there are three of Countess, Lisa, and Tomsk, in addition there are two or three dumb maids slaves.

And here is the same scene from the same play Zhitinkin. Artists blow bubbles. Quoted exactly keeping spelling, etc.

COUNTESS. Ahchoo!.. (Sneezes.) My dear, Yelets, that it’s good? TFA! That is whether her grandmother, the Princess Daria Petrovna… by the Way, I think she looked really old?

TOMSK. As aged! She is seven years old died.

COUNTESS. Dead!.. (Falls into a reverie. Masha’s making a pass at Tomsk.)

TOMSK. Here’s the time — spill the beans!..

COUNTESS. Sorry, sorry poor! We with her at one time appeared in the light, and then, mon cousin Michel wrote poems on our appearance, they all knew at the time…

TOMSK. And you remember them, the grande maman?

COUNTESS. Such things are not forgotten, mon cher!.. I’ll read to you:

“Two fairies came to us in the light
To captivate us with its beauty:
Love, enthusiasm and hi
They made with him.
The fire is burning in the eyes of one,
Blazing like the sun of the South.
But in the eyes of the other —
Only the cold, ice and Blizzard”…

TOMSK. Axalan, Mani FIC, incroyable. (So in the text of the play. This is the type of the French language. Cyrillic would have to write: exelan, Magnifique, incroyable. Excelent, magnifique, incroyable — excellent, wonderful, incredible — FR.) Let me these poems, I give your glory to posterity.

COUNTESS. Okay, I’ll assign them to you along with a French translation. (To unsubscribe — leave something by will. And then it should say “rewrite” or “dictate” or “written off”; the copy was then called “list”)

TOMSK. Have they been translated?

COUNTESS. And even printed in the “Memoires frangaises”. When I appeared in Paris, produced the effect, the sensation, the count Alexander Grigorievich them translated, and Voltaire himself was from them in admiration.

TOMSK. You were acquainted with Voltaire?

COUNTESS. Of course. I have often dined all the great of our time: Mormonen Diderot, Helvetius the philosopher and mathematician d’alembert. (I think “all great” then three? Yes, part of the public thought that Marmonil is the name of Diderot. But his actually name was Denis. And here probably refers to Jean-françois Marmontel, whose name, though with two errors, made the list along with the great d’alembert.)

TOMSK. Just think, you and him… by the Way, about math! I still have to ask you. (The Countess looks up timidly.) Yeah not about the money! (“Looks fearfully” — even in the NINETEENTH century, few people made such rude remarks. Try in front of a mirror to make a fearful look.)

COUNTESS. About what?

TOMSK. Let me introduce you to, not for the ball, a true philosopher and a great mathematician…

COUNTESS. Someone!!!

TOMSK. My good friend, Hermann…

COUNTESS. Hermann?!.. Who is he, mon cher, known?!.

TOMSK. To all my friends.

MASHA. (to the side). Players. (Note to Masha and her comments.)

COUNTESS. This is not enough. Where he came from?

TOMSK. … He was born almost in Russia; educated at the University abroad.

COUNTESS. But who is his father? What he origin?

TOMSK. I don’t know… friends say that he is the son of a Russified German.

COUNTESS. And the enemies?

TOMSK. I think it comes from the German… how would it mildly to Express that!..

COUNTESS. A Jew, or what? Ahchoo! (Sneezes.)

TOMSK. Yes… like that. But, anyway, he is a man of great…

COUNTESS. And you have been long acquainted with him?

TOMSK. Not particularly… but had already had to borrow…

COUNTESS. So is he a loan shark? Ahchoo!

TOMSK. Excuse me, you! I borrowed a part of his knowledge. He’s giving me mixed mathematics, opens the mysteries of nature.

COUNTESS. And a lot of you took his lessons?

TOMSK. Lessons? Let, one, two, three!

COUNTESS. A Little… Ahchoo! Ahchoo! Ahchoo!

TOMSK. Today he promised to give another. I now saw it from your home. I hurried to you, and he was standing in front of that window.

MASHA. (to the side). So the occasion!

COUNTESS. He was standing in front of that window?

TOMSK. He wanted to go to me, but it suddenly stopped…

COUNTESS. The open window?

TOMSK. No, idea, how to realize cabbalism, or rather, natural mysticism… Oh, it’s such a head? (Part of Lisa with books.) Yes you do, when you meet it…

COUNTESS. I, my dear, never to meet!..

TOMSK. But, why?

COUNTESS. Because I hate mysterious people — not in my house or in front of my Windows…

LISA. (to the side). What are they?

TOMSK. Sorry, grande maman, but weren’t you hosted an insoluble problem, a walking mystery around the world — the mysterious count Saint-Germain!

COUNTESS. Shut up, sir! You speak absurdities. Do not slander on one whom neither you nor all your pundits are not able to comprehend! You have no right to say who under the name of Saint-Germ… Oh wait! (Lisa takes.)

TOMSK. (Mache). I think I got into a mess again!..

MASHA. And more than once will get…

LISA. Here drops, Countess, receive them. (Drips into a glass and gives.) (Imagine: it turned out that this protest needs a remark. And in fact Lisa could say “adopt” but not give.)

TOMSK. Her something is often a bad?

MASHA. She is very weak.

TOMSK. From what?

MASHA. Nerves. (Pronounced “from nervou”.)

TOMSK. Nerves? (And Tomsk says “from nervou”. So the aristocrat and the serf girl use the same method to amuse respectable audience.) What to do, this is the law of nature.

MASHA. And it costs you only time not to beware of…

TOMSK. No, God bless her! I now will not say a word… You better grande maman?

COUNTESS. Yeah, a little, passed. The time?

LISA. Long beat hour.

COUNTESS. I’m late for a walk.

MASHA. Yes, you are quite ready, you only wear a cotton hood. (What to wear for a walk home?)

COUNTESS. Well, Paul, help me up. Lizanka, where is my snuff-box?

LISA. (takes, taking up from the table). Here it is. (From the table took! No remarks could be foolish to get out of the pocket wide leg. So I write for Pushkin. And so there is a volume of work corresponding to the contract. Episode swelled up to 5 times!)

COUNTESS. Lizaveta, don’t forget to give him his nonsense. Ahchoo! (Talking).

TOMSK. You grande maman, don’t be angry?

COUNTESS. Infante te rible! (Why is the expression “enfant terrible”, meaning “terrible child”, the writer of this nonsense is written in Cyrillic and in three words — diable knows.) And I don’t think.

LISA. (Tomsk quiet). What have you done?

TOMSK. (too quiet). Who could imagine that it would excite?

COUNTESS. (at the door). Poul, bring me some new novel, only not current. (Poul is the same Paul — there is no difference.)

We have quoted so much to show the scale of outrage and a degree of shamelessness.

If we forget about the talent and be judged only on the volume of peak a woman is four times thicker ladies. That is, conditional Pushkin there is maximum 25%… How would you react if a glass of vodka someone had refilled three glasses of muddy water and say: here’s a liter of vodka. This of slush — vodka? … — — — … Calm down, ladies and gentlemen — the mother we’re not going even to those places where it would be highly appropriate and right. But the important thing is possible without the Mat to say that it will be clear to any blonde.

photo: Alexander Minkin
Double bottom of the case.

Reading about this outrage, someone will decide (mind you, Madame, that here there is no recourse to you personally), somebody will decide that the trouble is not so great, if the audience gets at least a quarter of the present Pushkin. No. Imagine that you put food on a plate, three quarters of which is terribly dirty. Do you have as a quarter of the plate is still clean? No. It’s just a dirty plate. And with the text on the poster is called “the Queen of spades” — a blatant remake is just simply living on a stolen passport.

Impossible to get rid of the damn kings peak. Noticed incredibly active peasant girl Masha? Noticed 7 pieces “ahchoo”? And don’t think the Countess gripped. It is not a disease of the character, a humor of the author. Pay attention to cues:

TOMSK. I think it comes from the German… how would it mildly to Express that!..

COUNTESS. A Jew, or what? Ahchoo! (Sneezes.)

TOMSK. Yes… like that.

“Like this” — Kurd? the Turks? Bedouin?

It is clear that the Russian aristocrat (in the view of the Small theatre) allergic to these “as I put it to Express”. But the idea that Tomsk named in the programme Duke — Russian officer, a playboy, in the early NINETEENTH century will be to find a “softer expression” — this idea is false. And communicate modesty is not the Tomsk and Zhitinkin. Really ashamed of should for some remarks. Because after the “ahchoo” write in brackets “sneezes” — just a shame. We like to Express it mildly, we know how to paper are indicated by different sounds in different parts of the body. For example, “cough, cough” — a cough, and… uh… well, I think, enough.

In the performance of the Maly theatre the old Countess sneezes all the way, although she doesn’t have runny nose (no sniffles). Clearly desperate, but impotent desire of the Director to amuse the audience. Laugh in the barracks a little differently, but much more successful — even the totally deaf would have smelled these jokes. There are performance and other persistently recurring sounds. Every time behind the stage someone is knocking sticks, pretending to amplified speakers, the sound of horse hooves, the audience needs to understand whether someone came or someone left. If the hooves are not clinked, the audience would not understand; the Director better know his audience.

The usual torment of the Director: what to cut? Otherwise performance will be too long. Tuminas has reduced “Onegin” radical, left one-fifth, but many readers have never before been seen in such depth that the Lithuanian opened the audience to the stage.

Here’s another. The man is clearly in pain: what to add? For example, one gentleman because Zhitinkin has added the remark: “For the company, a Jew hanged himself.” So do sometimes say, except that in Pushkin’s “Queen of spades” do not say, there is this phrase no. But among the Small audience of connoisseurs of such phrases there, and the Director went to meet them. And once again went to meet them in the bedroom of the Countess. A proverb is good: this refers to the convivial nature: where all go, I go — to the world, and death is red.

Near the wardrobe, standing in line for the coat, some viewers admired: Ah Yes, Pushkin is Our everything! He “of these like this”!

Some of them came home and reread “Queen of spades”, you will not find these beauties and guess triumphantly: “Aha! censors cut out!” But this is not censorship Pushkin’s cut, and the Zhitinkin Pushkin inserted.

The nation (and we can say, prostonaprosto) performance at the Small most clearly expressed in the role of graffanino maids. It very much for granted. For example, when the old Countess would say something witty (composed for her by Zhitinkin), maid applauds.

“To applaud — to clap the hands in approval, commend” (Academic vocabulary). No aristocrat, lady-in-waiting of Catherine the great, would not allow the slave to validate you. The old Countess (the one that Pushkin) don’t need compliments to the cleaners; from the point of view of norms of decency is not a compliment, and unacceptable arrogance. So this is our Mary applauds instsenirovka, which the joke was written, Masha and the role built.

In the performance of Small office and Mary comes up with the whole affair. Probably the Director had read, and maybe put Moliere, the permanent character of the plays which the maid-schemer. A little difference: the windmills they are a civilian, Liberte-Egalite.

Some people (and visiting Academic Maly theatre of the foreigners) believe that Pushkin, moreover, that the poster is written, and in the program. But this, fortunately, does not.


Dear readers! Have something to say not about the girl but about you. If you are reading this part of the Eighth — then do it quite deliberately.

Explain. Whether you like this novel about a poem or irritating (annoying) — the main thing is that you read it.

Stumbling on the First part two months ago, you started reading, not knowing what awaits you. But I soon found that no policy here, nor letters to the President, nor the revelations of bureaucratic thieves — do nothing relevant. The second part confirmed the impression: it’s about Onegin and nothing more. So now this Eighth read only by those who already knows exactly what it’s about. Only those who is interested — regardless, it’s a positive interest or negative; whether fun or annoying. Those who got bored, threw long.

photo: Alexander Minkin
A rarity: a double-barreled gun colectomy, 1580.

…Now boring.

Imagine yourself on the edge of the valley. Far away meadows, fields, forests — beautiful! And even further on the horizon, shining mountain shining above the cloud top. And it is clear that the view from there is incredible beauty. Go?

Forgot to say: no carpet, no helicopter you have. A long way, not everyone will master the lift. But even worse is that first we need to get to the bottom. And it turns out: the forest in the distance is beautiful — and will — windbreak, thicket, ravines, swamps, thorn bushes, mosquitoes. After an hour or on the second day you are already exhausted, annoyed; how long to trudge, Wade is unknown. In addition, the whiners that went with you, you begin to convince you that nothing good ahead no need to give up on this. And is the game worth the candle? Isn’t it better to return? Moreover, the impression that the mountain is not getting any closer, still on the horizon.

Who would neither were you, my dear reader,
Friend, foe, I want with you
To leave now as a friend.
I’m sorry. Why would you follow me
Here are looking for in verse, sloppy,
Memories whether rebellious,
Eh rest from their labors,
Tableaux, or sharp words
Il grammatical errors,
God grant that in this book you
For fun, for dreams,
For the heart, for coffee schirok
Although a particle could be found.
For the SIM part, I’m sorry!

I would like to say goodbye to those who gave up, but, alas, can not. They didn’t read this far. And you promise that suffering will be rewarded. Lost time — oddly enough — will stay with you for a long time, forever. — How? — Very simple. The time spent on empty talk, — was gone; crossword puzzles, electronic TIC-TAC-toe on a stupid talk show is gone. You are left with nothing. Be left with nothing. And here — otherwise, see for yourself. Or do not see.

One person asked why he spends so much effort on their art beyond the comprehension of most people. He said: “I are quite very few. I quite one. I quite and no”.

Michel De Montaigne.
Experiences. XXXIX. About the privacy.

This man (which says Montaigne) had, obviously, incredible fortitude, close to this introvert Tibetan monks, which we can’t even imitate. A resident of the city and in fact, a spiritual cripple. (When viewed from the Himalayan heights.)

A “peak woman” — we got lost, went astray, strayed into the swamp. Because: a) the top of the forest is not visible; b), we sometimes go in the night when nothing can be seen; C) the demons are not asleep and tried his best to interfere. And Pushkin was it easy? Remember: we tried to understand how it has managed to put the Entry into the final Seventh Chapter. But fascinated by the location of the Entry, we have missed its meaning. Back.

Bless my long labor,
Oh, epic Muse!
And the right stick handed to me,
Don’t let me wander at random and!

“Don’t let me wander at random and” — here he asks! This means that the Author constantly wandered, could not bring himself to go straight and directly asks the goddess: “Help!” That “peak” here — is wandering.

Moreover, if the plea of the Author was where it should be Accession — that is, in the first lines of the poem — then it would be possible to interpret it (the supplication) as a pre-emptive request: so just in case, such as “sit down on the track”. But the Introduction — at the end of Chapter seven, that is almost at the end of the poem (because there is only one, the last Chapter). And so it’s not in advance, do not fear the future possible misconceptions, and after the fact (the hard way, lat.). Indeed, “Eugene Onegin” is that in school textbooks wittily named “author’s retreat” — that is, not even walk, and generally walk back.

I remember the sea before a storm:
How I envied the waves,
Each in tumultuous turn descending
With love to lie at her feet!
How I longed then with the waves
Touch her dear feet with kissing!..

It XXXIII verse of the First Chapter. And why should she? No relation to the story, these confessions do not have, and most importantly: it’s a memoir. No not a novel about Eugene Onegin, a story about an episode from his personal life of the Author — the episode has nothing to do neither with the plot nor the story… and don’t even ask what it is, because it is mysterious terms, and if we get into a struggle over the meaning of these foreign words, then get tied up so that the story about the Queen of woman seem to light Jogging on the stadium. By the way, note: the runner is running, spins around and around, wasting time and effort — and in fact nowhere near. Does it mean that he commits senseless acts? To think so would be to acknowledge the futility of the action of countless millions of runners. To think so would be to become (at the time) in the old man Hottabych, who came to football and was perplexed why 20 some-odd people running after a ball, when each could have its own… But the fact that the purpose of the runner on the stadium is not moving on the surface of the planet, not stupid “from point a to point B” (B-lat.).

“Little house in Kolomna” — one continuous walk. So at the end of Pushkin — portraying the strict reader-academician, perturbed by the presence of the lack of seriousness from his face asks himself and answers himself.

ACADEMICIAN (with irritation):
— How is everything here? kidding!

PUSHKIN (confused):
— “By golly”.

ACADEMICIAN (indignantly):
Is that where octave lead us!
What W this raised the alarm,
Have slicely army and was bragging?
Enviable well you chose the road!
Do other items not found?
Yes no at least you have morals?

PUSHKIN (defensively):
— No… or is there: a moment of patience…
Here’s the moral: according to my opinion,
The cook gift to hire dangerous;
Who was born a man, that
To dress up in a skirt is weird and vain:
Ever have him
To shave his beard himself that dissent
With nature ladies… nothing More
You can’t get from the story of my.


Is it morality? Just nonsense. Happened and more dramatic responses grouchy academics. Absolutely telling obscene stories about the 40 daughters of the king, Pushkin finished it the mockery of the uptight reader.

A me diarrhea
And now, perhaps, will ask:
Stupid so why joke?
What matter to them? Want!


And here is the famous “Poet and the crowd”

MOBILE (poet).
— You can, loving neighbor,
Give us a bold lessons
And we hear you.

— Go away — what’s the matter
Poet peace to you!
The debauchery stone boldly,
Don’t you revive the voice of the lyre!


These are different in form but very similar in meaning conversations of the Author with readers, show and prove: the problem is real and ongoing (see the years of writing). And if Pushkin writes about it from year to year — so it is a haunting idea; then the abuse and misunderstanding of it certainly had to sting.

Imagine the Martian academician, who looks through a telescope on the Ground and sees a creature every day comes to a special place to aimlessly run around. “Idiot” is decided by the academics on the academic Martian Council. And we are funny. We know that “idiot” Bolt — he’s a hundred times world champion and Olympic games and scored the pin on all Martian academics, at all, of course, respect to their occupation and mind.

And we on Earth (in Moscow). And a word about reality.

Endless, ugly,
In the murky game of the month
Devils spun differently,
Like the leaves in November…
Rush devils swarm over swarm
In the boundless heights,
Squeal plaintive also we howl
Tearing my heart…


“There are no devils, nonsense!” the academician said. Devils, maybe not, but a masterpiece it is. …In short, if you, Madam, and you, dear comrades of the doctor of psychological Sciences, academicians, etc., — if you never commit and did not commit senseless acts, we can only envy or… Or incredulously shaking his head, as it seems to us that only earthworm does not commit senseless acts, and it seems only because in the classroom we understand the worm, as Hottabych in football… — — Oh, where does it end?!

The end.

To be continued.

Mute Onegin. Part I.

Mute Onegin. Part II.

Mute Onegin. Part III.

Mute Onegin. Part IV.

Mute Onegin. Part V.

Mute Onegin. Part VI.

Mute Onegin. Part VII.

P. S. Oh Yes! The relationship between Peak and Onegin, thank God, is. Both of them wrote Pushkin.

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