1839, August 5 - on this day, as the date put on the manuscript testifies, Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov completed work on the poem "Mtsyri". The writing of the work was preceded by many years of searching for a source of inspiration, reflections on the embodiment of the idea and, of course, direct work on the text.
In his diary, seventeen-year-old Lermontov wrote the following: “Create notes of a young monk at the age of seventeen. Lives in a monastery since childhood. Reads only holy books. It will take another 10 years before young Mikhail was able to bring the idea to life.
The creation of the poem "Mtsyri" was preceded by work on other works - "Confession" and "Boyarin Orsha". Both stories tell the reader about the fate of people who have devoted themselves to serving God: in the Confession, the lyrical hero, a monk, is condemned to death for love, and in the poem Boyar Orsha, the pupil of the monastery becomes the central figure. It is noteworthy that the text of early developments was included in the content of Mtsyri.
However, the main source of inspiration for writing the poem, according to cousin Lermontov, was the bewitching nature of the Caucasus. The writer got acquainted with the mountain life at a young age. Listening to the centuries-old legends about the battle of a brave young man and a tiger, breathing in clean air and enjoying the landscapes - probably then the boy Misha did not yet suspect that a brilliant idea had already been born in his brow ... The true impetus for working on a romantic poem was Lermontov's journey to Caucasus at a conscious age. During long wanderings, Mikhail Yuryevich imbued with the traditions of the local population. The old Georgian Military Road is the path along which the poet received the knowledge necessary to create a masterpiece of Russian literature: here he met the hero of his work, an elderly monk. A long heart-to-heart conversation convinced Lermontov of the uniqueness of the fate of the monastery servant. The story of a real person formed the basis of the poem "Mtsyri".
Returning to Tsarskoye Selo, Mikhail Yuryevich begins to work hard on the poem. The writer projects the previously created sketches on a real-life prototype. The only adjustment that Lermontov makes to the monk's story in order to give the work a truly romantic spirit is that "Mtsyri" does not put up with life in a monastery. Lines, bright metaphors filled with the Caucasian mentality and folklore of thought, unique epithets flew out from under the inspired pen.
One of the first legendary poem "Mtsyri" was lucky enough to hear from the lips of the author A. N. Muravyov. Words of admiration for Lermontov's poetic talent, his skillful ability to play with words and expose striking scenes in living images are expressed in one of his memoirs. Muravyov writes: "No work has ever had such a strong influence on me." Perhaps the modern reader cannot but agree with the above statement: Lermontov so vividly showed his inner romantic genius in the poem "Mtsyri", which inscribed his name in golden letters in the history of not only Russian, but also world literature.
Lermontov Mtsyri The story of the creation of the poem
The beginning of the history of the creation of the famous poem "Mtsyri", one of the most romantic poems of Lermontov Mikhail, with proper processing, could in itself very easily form the basis of the plot for the whole story, and not just one poem. But, according to the author, the whole meaning is very logically formed into a poem.
The idea to create and write a poem about a certain young monk who, by coincidence of fate, died in captivity in a local monastery, came to the poet at a very young, almost childhood age.
Mikhail began to work on the poem at the time of his seventeen years of age, later in his personal diary entries were found about this poem, or, as they say, about its first sketches.
It should also be noted that the entire poem "Mtsyri" consists of several parts, and several stages of the life of the author himself are involved in its writing.
To make the poem unusual, the author's impression and love for the Caucasus, which he visited as a child, together with his grandmother, helped. It was precisely the children's sketches that he used later in the poem, because we all come from childhood.
It is believed that the main story of the creation of the poem "Mtsyri" is notable for the fact that the author was personally acquainted with the main character of his work. This was told in their memoirs by two relatives of the great Russian poet, and the author of such wonderful lines.
In 1837, Mikhail Lermontov met an old monk, who told him this fascinating and exciting story about the life of a monk who was the last from a monastery near Mtskheta.
As a very young boy, he was brought to this monastery, because due to his illness he could not continue his journey. After that, when the boy grew up and got stronger, he repeatedly tried to escape from that same monastery, since he really wanted to be at home.
One such attempt nearly cost him his life. Soon he fell ill, and only after a long illness he decided to stay in the monastery, resigned to his fate.
Picture or drawing Mtsyri creation story
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The idea of writing a romantic poem about the wanderings of a free highlander, doomed to monastic seclusion, arose from Lermontov on the verge of youth - at the age of 17.
This is evidenced by diary entries, sketches: a young man who grew up within the walls of a monastery and saw nothing but monastery books and silent novices suddenly gains short-term freedom.
A new mindset is emerging...
The history of the creation of the poem
In 1837, the 23-year-old poet ended up in the Caucasus, whom he fell in love with as a child (his grandmother took him to a sanatorium). In fabulous Mtskheta, he met an old monk, the last servant of a monastery that no longer exists, who told the poet the story of his life. At the age of seven, a highlander, a Muslim boy, was captured by a Russian general and taken away from his home. The boy was sick, so the general left him in one of the Christian monasteries, where the monks decided to raise their follower from the prisoner. The guy protested, ran away several times, during one of the attempts he almost died. After another failed escape, he nevertheless took the rank, as he became attached to one of the old monks. The story of the monk delighted Lermontov - after all, it strangely coincided with his long-standing poetic plans.
At first, the poet titled the poem “Beri” (it translates from Georgian as “monk”), but then he changed the title to “Mtsyri”. In this name, the meanings of “novice” and “alien”, “foreigner” symbolically merged.
The poem was written in August 1839, published in 1840. The poetic prerequisites for the creation of this poem were the poems "Confession" and "Boyarin Orsha", in the new work Lermontov moved the action to an exotic, and therefore very romantic setting - to Georgia.
It is believed that in the description of the monastery by Lermontov, a description of the Mtskheta Cathedral of Svetitskhoveli, one of the most ancient shrines of Georgia, appears.
At first, Lermontov intended to use an epigraph in French for the poem, "There is only one Motherland." Then he changed his mind - the epigraph to the poem is a biblical quote, translated from Church Slavonic, as "Eating, I tasted little honey - and now I'm dying." This is a reference to the biblical story of King Saul. The leader of the host, Saul directed his soldiers to battle. He threatened execution for anyone who took a break from the battle to eat and recuperate. The king did not know that his own son would taste the forbidden honey and rush into battle. After a successful battle, the king decided to execute his son, as a warning to everyone, and the son was ready to accept the punishment (“I drank honey, now I must die”), but the people kept the king from reprisal. The meaning of the epigraph is that a rebellious, free by nature person cannot be broken, no one has the right to dispose of his right to freedom, and if seclusion is inevitable, then death will become true freedom.
Analysis of the work
Plot, genre, theme and idea of the poem
The plot of the poem almost coincides with the events outlined above, but does not begin in chronological order, but is an excursus. A young man, preparing to be tonsured a monk, remains behind the walls of his monastery during a storm. Three days of freedom gave him life, but when he was found sick and wounded, he told the old monk what he had experienced. The young man realizes that he will certainly die, if only because after three days of freedom he will no longer be able to put up with his former life in the monastery. Unlike his prototype, Mtsyri, the hero of the poem, does not put up with monastic customs and dies.
Almost the entire poem is a confession of a young man before an old monk (this story can only be called a confession formally, since the young man’s story is imbued not with a desire for repentance, but with a passion for life, a passionate desire for it). On the contrary, it can be said that Mtsyri does not confess, but preaches, elevating a new religion - freedom.
The main theme of the poem is considered to be the theme of rebellion both against formal seclusion and against ordinary, boring, inactive life. Topics also raised in the poem:
- love for the motherland, the need for this love, the need for one's own history and family, for "roots";
- confrontation between the crowd and the seeker of the loner, misunderstanding between the hero and the crowd;
- the theme of freedom, struggle and achievement.
Initially, criticism perceived "Mtsyri" as a revolutionary poem, a call to fight. Then her idea was understood as loyalty to one's ideology and the importance of maintaining this faith, despite the possible defeat in the struggle. Dreams of Mtsyra's homeland were viewed by critics as a need to join not only their lost family, but also as an opportunity to join the army of their people and fight with it, that is, to achieve freedom for their homeland.
However, later critics saw more metaphysical meanings in the poem. The idea of the poem is seen more broadly, as the image of the monastery is being revised. The monastery serves as a prototype of society. Living in a society, a person puts up with certain limits, fetters for his own spirit, society poisons a natural person, which is Mtsyri. If the problem was the need to change the monastery for nature, then Mtsyri would be happy already outside the walls of the monastery, but he does not find happiness outside the monastery either. He is already poisoned by the influence of the monastery, and he has become a stranger in the natural world. Thus, the poem states that the search for happiness is the most difficult path in life, where there are no prerequisites for happiness.
Genre, composition and conflict of the poem
The genre of the work is a poem, this is the genre most beloved by Lermontov, stands at the junction of lyrics and epic and allows you to draw a hero in more detail than lyrics, as it reflects not only the inner world, but also the actions, actions of the hero.
The composition of the poem is circular - the action begins in the monastery, takes the reader to the fragmentary childhood memories of the hero, to his three-day adventures and returns to the monastery again. The poem includes 26 chapters.
The conflict of the work is romantic, typical of a work in the genre of romanticism: the desire for freedom and the impossibility of obtaining it are opposed, the romantic hero is in search and the crowd that impedes his search. The culmination of the poem is the moment of meeting with the wild leopard and the duel with the beast, which fully reveals the inner strength of the hero, his character.
Heroes of the poem
(Mtsyri tells the monk his story)
There are only two heroes in the poem - Mtsyri and the monk to whom he tells his story. However, it can be said that there is only one acting hero, Mtsyri, and the second is silent and quiet, as befits a monk. In the image of Mtsyra, many contradictions converge that do not allow him to be happy: he is baptized, but a non-Christian; he is a monk, but he is rebellious; he is an orphan, but he has a home and parents, he is a “natural person”, but does not find harmony with nature, he is one of the “humiliated and insulted”, but internally freer than all.
(Mtsyri alone with himself and nature)
This combination of incongruous - touching lyricism in the contemplation of the beauties of nature with mighty strength, softness and firm intentions to escape - something that Mtsyri himself treats with complete understanding. He knows that there is no happiness for him either in the form of a monk or in the form of a fugitive; he surprisingly accurately understood this deep thought, although he is neither a philosopher, nor even a thinker. The last stage of protest does not allow reconciliation with this idea, because shackles and prison walls are alien to man, because he was created in order to strive for something.
Mtsyri dies, deliberately does not touch the food offered by the monk (he saves him a second time from death, and even is his baptist), he simply does not want to recover. He sees death as the only possible deliverance from the shackles of an imposed religion, from someone who is like , without hesitation, wrote his fate. He looks courageously into the eyes of death - not in the way that a Christian should humbly lower his eyes before her - and this is his last protest before earth and Heaven.
Artistic means, the meaning of the poem in art
In addition to the means of artistic expression typical of romantic works (epithets, comparisons, a large number of rhetorical questions and exclamations), poetic organization plays a role in the artistic originality of the work. The poem is written in iambic 4-foot, exclusively male rhyme is used. V.G. Belinsky, in his review of the poem, emphasized that this persistent iambic and masculine rhyme is like a mighty sword chopping enemies. This technique made it possible to draw truly passionate and vivid images.
"Mtsyri" has become a source of inspiration for many poets and artists. Heroic themes have repeatedly tried to shift to music, as the poem has become a real symbol of the ineradicable desire for freedom.
(378 words)
The poem "Mtsyri" was written by Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov in 1839. This work is rightfully considered a model of Russian romantic poetry, and it has an interesting background. The author often visited the Caucasus, and it is believed that the plot of the book was based on real events that happened to the writer. Traveling along the Georgian Military Highway, he came across the main cathedral of Georgia - Mtskheta and met a lonely monk who told him the story of his life, and later the grateful listener described it in verse.
The story of Mtsyri is a story about a lonely highlander boy who, by chance, turned out to be a pupil in the monastery of the temple (from the Georgian language “mtsyri” is translated as “novice”, “non-serving monk”). During his short life, the captive learned the local language, traditions and got used to living in captivity, but he never managed to understand who he really is, because the family, which, unfortunately, he never has, plays a big role in shaping his personality. was.
The image of Mtsyra is, first of all, the image of a lonely person who is in search of the meaning of life. After spending a long time in the monastery, he finally decides to get out, to experience new feelings, to know freedom. Having lived for three days outside the monastery, the young man remembers his native language, the faces of his relatives: his father, sister and brother. The hope is instilled in his heart that he will be able to find his father's house, but this dream is not destined to come true. The prisoner dies after a fight with a tiger. Before death, confessing to a priest, the fugitive pours out his soul, sheds the light of truth on his fate. He dies with the thought that he remained a slave, a prisoner and was unable to see the place where he was born.
Of course, Mtsyri could be devoted to his country, family, home, could take place as a person, but his wanderings are a metaphor for the life of each of us. For three days, the prisoner experienced the main feelings and impressions: struggle, passion, admiration for nature and disappointment in himself and the world. We, too, experience all this and yearn for an unattainable ideal. In a religious sense, this is Eden, in a practical sense it is the highest level of consumption, in a personal sense it is happiness, in a creative sense it is recognition, etc. Therefore, the drama of a freedom-loving young man is the story of the ups and downs of each of us, this image reflects the face of humanity.
In his dying confession, he says that he wants to be buried in the far corner of the monastery garden, so that the view from his grave overlooks the hero's native mountains. Mtsyri is a romantic hero, and despite the fact that in the last scene we see him broken, he dies with the thought that perhaps someday he will still meet his relatives and friends.
Interesting? Save it on your wall!Read the poem in full:
Eating, tasting a little honey, and now I die.
1st Book of Kings.
1
A few years ago
Where merging noise
Hugging like two sisters
Jets of Aragva and Kura,
There was a monastery. Because of the mountain
And now he sees a pedestrian
Collapsed gate pillars
And the towers, and the church vault;
But don't smoke under it
Incense burners fragrant smoke,
Can't hear singing at a late hour
Praying monks for us.
Now one old man is gray-haired,
The ruins guard half-dead,
Forgotten by people and death,
Sweeps the dust off the tombstones
Which the inscription says
About the glory of the past - and about
How dejected by his crown,
Such and such a king, in such and such a year
He handed over his people to Russia.
* * *
And God's grace came down
To Georgia! - she bloomed
Since then, in the shade of their gardens,
Without fear of enemies
Beyond friendly bayonets.
2
Once a Russian general
I drove from the mountains to Tiflis;
He was carrying a prisoner child.
He fell ill, could not bear
Works of a long way.
He seemed to be about six years old;
Like a chamois of the mountains, shy and wild
And weak and flexible, like a reed.
But it has a painful ailment
Developed then a mighty spirit
His fathers. He has no complaints
Languished - even a weak groan
Did not fly out of children's lips,
He rejected food with a sign,
And quietly, proudly died.
Out of pity, one monk
He looked after the patient, and within the walls
He remained guardian
Saved by friendly art.
But, alien to childish pleasures,
At first he ran from everyone,
I wandered silently, alone,
Looked sighing to the east
Tommy obscure melancholy
On the side of his own.
But after that he got used to captivity,
I began to understand a foreign language,
Was baptized by the holy father
And, unfamiliar with the noisy light,
Already wanted in the color of years
Take a monastic vow
How suddenly one day he disappeared
Autumn night. Dark forest
Stretched around the mountains.
Three days all searches for him
Were in vain, but then
They found him in the steppe without feelings
And again they brought to the monastery;
He was terribly pale and thin
And weak, like a long labor,
He experienced sickness or hunger.
He didn't answer the interrogation.
And every day noticeably sluggish;
And his end was near.
Then a black man came to him
With admonition and prayer;
And, having proudly listened, the patient
I got up, gathering the rest of my strength,
And for a long time he said:
3
"You listen to my confession
Came here, thank you.
Everything is better in front of someone
Lighten my chest with words;
But I did not harm people,
And so my deeds
Not much good for you to know;
Can you tell your soul?
I lived little, and lived in captivity.
Such two lives in one
But only full of anxiety
I would change if I could.
I knew only one thought power,
One - but fiery passion:
She, like a worm, lived in me,
It gnawed at the soul and burned it.
She called my dreams
From stuffy cells and prayers
In that wonderful world of worries and battles,
Where rocks hide in the clouds
Where people are free as eagles.
I am this passion in the darkness of the night
Nurtured with tears and longing;
Her before heaven and earth
I now loudly acknowledge
And I don't ask for forgiveness.
4
"Old man! I heard many times
That you saved me from death -
Why? .. Gloomy and lonely,
A torn leaf by a thunderstorm,
I grew up in dark walls
The soul of a child, the fate of a monk.
I couldn't tell anyone
The sacred words are "father" and "mother".
Of course you wanted, old man,
So that I wean in the monastery
From these sweet names.
In vain: their sound was born
With me. I have seen others
Fatherland, home, friends, relatives,
And I did not find
Not only sweet souls - graves!
Then, without wasting empty tears,
In my heart I swore an oath:
Though for a moment someday
my burning chest
Press with longing to the chest of another,
Though unfamiliar, but native.
Alas, now those dreams
Died in full beauty
And I, as I lived, in a foreign land
I will die a slave and an orphan.
5
“The grave does not scare me:
There, they say, suffering sleeps
In cold, eternal silence;
But I'm sorry to part with my life.
I'm young, young... Did you know
Rampant youth dreams?
Or didn't know or forgot
How I hated and loved;
How the heart beat faster
At the sight of the sun and fields
From the high corner tower,
Where the air is fresh and where sometimes
In a deep hole in the wall
Child of an unknown country
Clinging, young dove
Sitting, frightened by a thunderstorm?
Let the beautiful light now
I hate you: you are weak, you are gray,
And from desires you weaned.
What is the need? You lived, old man!
You have something in the world to forget
You lived - I could also live!
6
"Do you want to know what I saw
At will? - Lush fields
Crowned hills
Trees growing all around
Noisy fresh crowd,
Like brothers, in a circular dance.
I saw heaps of dark rocks
When the stream separated them,
And I guessed their thoughts:
It was given to me from above!
Stretched out in the air for a long time
Embrace their stone
And they long for a meeting every moment;
But the days are running, the years are running -
They will never get along!
I saw mountain ranges
Weird like dreams
When at dawn
Smoked like altars
Their heights in the blue sky
And cloud after cloud
Leaving your secret lodging,
Run directed to the east -
Like a white caravan
Passing birds from distant lands!
In the distance I saw through the fog
In the snows burning like a diamond
Gray-haired, unshakable Caucasus;
And my heart was
Easy, I don't know why.
A secret voice told me
That once I lived there,
And it became in my memory
The past is clearer, clearer.
7
And I remembered my father's house,
Our gorge, and all around
In the shadow of a scattered aul;
I heard the evening roar
Home of the running herds
And the distant barking of familiar dogs.
I remembered swarthy old men,
In the light of moonlit evenings
Against the father's porch
Sitting with the importance of the face;
And the sheen of the rimmed scabbard
Long daggers... and like a dream
It's all a blur
Suddenly it ran in front of me.
And my father? He's like alive
In your combat clothes
Appeared to me and I remembered
Chain mail ringing, and the gleam of a gun,
And a proud, unyielding gaze,
And my young sisters...
The rays of their sweet eyes
And the sound of their songs and speeches
Above my cradle...
In the gorge there ran a stream,
It was noisy, but not deep;
To him, on the golden sand,
I left to play at noon
And watched the swallows with a glance,
When they, before the rain,
The waves touched the wing.
And I remembered our peaceful home
And before the evening hearth
Long stories about
How did the people of the past live?
When the world was even richer.
8
"Do you want to know what I did
At will? Lived - and my life
Without these three blessed days
It would be sadder and gloomier
Your powerless old age.
Long time ago I thought
Look at the distant fields
Find out if the earth is beautiful
Find out for freedom or prison
We will be born into this world.
And at the hour of the night, a terrible hour,
When the storm scared you
When, crowding at the altar,
You lay prostrate on the ground
I ran. Oh I'm like a brother
I would be happy to embrace the storm!
With the eyes of the clouds I followed
I caught lightning with my hand ...
Tell me what's between these walls
Could you give me in return
That friendship is short, but alive,
Between a stormy heart and a thunderstorm? ..
9
“I ran for a long time - where, where,
Don't know! Not a single star
Didn't light up the hard way.
I had fun inhaling
Into my tormented chest
The night freshness of those forests
But only. I have many hours
I ran, and finally, tired,
Lie down between tall grasses;
I listened: there is no chase.
The storm has subsided. pale light
Stretched in a long strip
Between dark sky and earth
And I distinguished, like a pattern,
On it are the teeth of distant mountains;
Motionless, silently, I lay.
Sometimes in the gorge a jackal
Screaming and crying like a child
And smooth scales shining,
The snake slithered between the stones;
But fear did not grip my soul:
I myself, like a beast, was a stranger to people
And he crawled and hid like a snake.
10
"Down deep below me
A stream reinforced by a thunderstorm
Noisy, and its noise is deaf
Angry hundred voices
Got it. Although without words
I understood that conversation
Silent murmur, eternal dispute
With a stubborn pile of stones.
Then he suddenly subsided, then stronger
It resounded in the silence;
And so, in the misty sky
The birds sang, and the east
got rich; breeze
Raw stirred the sheets;
Sleepy flowers died,
And like them, towards the day,
I raised my head...
I looked around; don't melt:
I became afraid; on the edge
Of the threatening abyss I lay,
Where howled, spinning, an angry shaft;
There were steps of rocks;
But only an evil spirit walked on them,
When, cast down from heaven,
Disappeared in an underground abyss.
11
“God's garden bloomed around me;
Plant rainbow outfit
Kept traces of heavenly tears,
And curls of vines
Curled, showing off between the trees
Transparent green sheets;
And the clusters are full on them,
Earrings like expensive ones,
They hung magnificently, and sometimes
A shy swarm of birds flew towards them.
And again I fell to the ground,
And began to listen again
To magical, strange voices;
They whispered through the bushes
As if they were speaking
About the secrets of heaven and earth;
And all nature's voices
Merged here; did not ring out
In solemn praise hour
Only a man's proud voice.
Everything I felt then
Those thoughts - they no longer have a trace;
But I would like to tell them
To live, even mentally, again.
That morning there was a vault of heaven
So pure that an angel's flight
A diligent eye could follow;
He was so transparently deep
So full of smooth blue!
I'm in it with my eyes and soul
Drowned while the midday heat
My dreams are not dispersed
And I became thirsty.
12
"Then to the stream from on high,
Holding on to flexible bushes
From stove to stove I did my best
Started going down. From under your feet
Breaking off, the stone sometimes
Rolled down - behind him the reins
It smoked, the ashes curled like a pillar;
Buzzing and jumping, then
He was absorbed by the wave;
And I hung over the deep
But free youth is strong,
And death seemed not terrible!
Only I am from steep heights
Went down, the freshness of the mountain waters
blew towards me,
And greedily I clung to the wave.
Suddenly a voice - a slight sound of footsteps ...
Instantly hiding between the bushes,
Embraced by involuntary trembling,
I looked up fearfully
And he began to listen eagerly.
And closer, closer everything sounded
Georgian voice is young,
So artlessly alive
So sweetly free, as if he
Only the sounds of friendly names
I was taught to pronounce.
It was a simple song
But she got into my mind,
And to me, only dusk comes,
Her invisible spirit sings.
13
"Holding a pitcher over your head,
Georgian narrow path
Went down to the beach. Sometimes
She slipped between the stones
Laughing at their awkwardness.
And her outfit was poor;
And she walked easily, back
Curves long veils
Throwing back. summer heat
Covered in golden shadow
Her face and chest; and heat
I breathed from her mouth and cheeks.
And the darkness of the eyes was so deep
So full of secrets of love
What are my ardent thoughts
Were embarrassed. I only remember
Pitcher ringing - when the jet
Slowly poured into him
And a rustle ... nothing more.
When did I wake up again
And drained the blood from my heart
She was already far away;
And she walked at least quieter, but easily,
Slender under her burden,
Like a poplar, the king of her fields!
Far away, in the cool haze,
Seemed to be rooted to the rock
Two sakli as a friendly couple;
Above a flat roof
Blue smoke billowed.
I see as if now
As the door slowly opened...
And closed again!
I know you don't understand
My longing, my sadness;
And if I could, I would be sorry:
Memories of those moments
In me, let them die with me.
14
"I am exhausted by the labors of the night,
I lay down in the shade. Pleasant dream
I closed my eyes involuntarily ...
And again I saw in a dream
Georgian image of a young.
And strange, sweet longing
Again my chest ached.
For a long time I tried to breathe -
And woke up. Already the moon
Above shone, and alone
Only a cloud crept after her,
As for your prey,
Embrace greedy opening.
The world was dark and silent;
Only silver fringe
Snow chain tops
Away sparkled before me,
Yes, a stream splashed on the banks.
In the familiar sakla a light
It trembled, then went out again:
In heaven at midnight
So the bright star goes out!
I wanted ... but I'm there
I didn't dare to go up. I have one goal
Go to your native country
He had in his soul - and overcame
The suffering of hunger, as he could.
And here is the straight road
He set off, timid and dumb.
But soon in the depths of the forest
Lost in sight of the mountains
And then he started to go astray.
15
“In vain in a rage, sometimes,
I tore with a desperate hand
Blackthorn tangled with ivy:
All the forest was, the eternal forest around,
Terrible and thicker every hour;
And a million black eyes
Watched the darkness of the night
Through the branches of every bush...
My head was spinning;
I began to climb trees;
But even at the edge of heaven
It was the same jagged forest.
Then I fell to the ground;
And sobbed in a frenzy,
And gnawed at the damp breast of the earth,
And tears, tears flowed
In it with combustible dew ...
But trust me, human help
I did not want ... I was a stranger
For them forever, like a beast of the steppe;
And if even a minute cry
I cheated - I swear, old man,
I would tear out my weak tongue.
16
“Do you remember your childhood years;
I never knew tears;
But then I cried without shame.
Who could see? Just a dark forest
Yes, the month that floated in the sky!
Illuminated by his beam
Covered in moss and sand
impenetrable wall
Surrounded, in front of me
There was a field. Suddenly on it
A shadow flashed, and two lights
Sparks flew ... and then
Some kind of beast in one jump
He jumped out of the thicket and lay down,
Playing, back on the sand.
That was the eternal guest of the desert -
Mighty bar. raw bone
He gnawed and squealed merrily;
That bloody gaze directed,
Wagging your tail gently
For a full month - and on it
The wool was sheen with silver.
I waited, grabbing a horned bough,
A minute of battle; heart suddenly
Ignited by the will to fight
And blood ... yes, the hand of fate
She took me in a different direction...
But now I'm sure
What could be in the land of fathers
Not one of the last daredevils.
17
"I was waiting. And in the shadow of the night
He sensed the enemy, and howl
Drawling, plaintive, like a groan,
There was suddenly ... and he began
Angrily paw dig sand,
He stood on his hind legs, then lay down,
And the first crazy jump
I was threatened with a terrible death ...
But I warned him.
My blow was true and fast.
My reliable bitch is like an axe,
His wide forehead was cut ...
He groaned like a man
And capsized. But again
Although blood poured from the wound
Thick, wide wave,
The battle has begun, the deadly battle!
18
“To me, he threw himself on his chest;
But in the throat I managed to stick
And then turn twice
My weapon... He howled,
I rushed with my last strength,
And we, intertwined like a pair of snakes,
Hugging tightly two friends,
Fell at once, and in the darkness
The fight continued on the ground.
And I was terrible at that moment;
Like a desert leopard, angry and wild,
I burned, squealed like him;
As if I myself were born
In the family of leopards and wolves
Under the fresh forest canopy.
It seemed that the words of people
I forgot - and in my chest
That terrible cry was born
As if from childhood my tongue
I'm not used to the sound...
But my enemy began to languish,
Move, breathe slower
Squeezed me for the last time...
The pupils of his motionless eyes
Flashed menacingly - and then
Closed quietly eternal sleep;
But with a triumphant enemy
He met death face to face
As a fighter follows in battle! ..
19
"You see on my chest
Deep claw marks;
They haven't grown yet
And they didn't close. but the earth
A damp cover will refresh them,
And death will live forever.
I forgot about them then.
And, once again gathering the rest of the forces,
I wandered into the depths of the forest ...
But in vain I argued with fate:
She laughed at me!
20
“I came out of the forest. And so
The day woke up, and a round dance
The parting luminaries disappeared
in its rays. Foggy forest
He spoke. Far away aul
Started smoking. A vague rumble
In the valley with the wind ran ...
I sat down and began to listen;
But he fell silent with the breeze.
And I cast my eyes around:
That region seemed familiar to me.
And I was scared to understand
I couldn't take that long again
I returned to my prison;
What is useless for so many days
I caressed a secret plan,
Endured, languished and suffered,
And why? .. So that in the color of years,
Barely looking at God's light,
With the sonorous murmur of oak forests,
Having known the bliss of liberty,
Take it to your grave
Longing for the homeland of the saint,
The hopes of the deceived reproach
And shame on your pity!
Still immersed in doubt
I thought it was a bad dream...
Suddenly distant bells ring
Resounded again in silence -
And then everything became clear to me ...
ABOUT! I recognized him immediately!
He has more than once from children's eyes
Chased visions of living dreams
About dear neighbors and relatives,
About the will of the wild steppes,
About light, mad horses,
About wonderful battles between the rocks,
Where all alone I won! ..
And I listened without tears, without strength.
It seemed that the call was coming out
From the heart - like someone
He struck me in the chest with iron.
And then I vaguely understood
What is the trace to my homeland
Never lay.
21
“Yes, I have earned my lot!
Mighty horse in the steppe of a stranger,
Dropping a bad rider
Home from afar
Find a direct and short path ...
What am I to him? Vain chest
Full of desire and longing:
That heat is powerless and empty,
Dream game, disease of the mind.
I'm stamped with my prison
Left ... Such is the flower
Dungeon: grew up alone
And he is pale between the damp plates,
And long leaves young
Did not dissolve, everything was waiting for the rays
Life-giving. And many days
Gone, and a good hand
Sadness touched the flower,
And he was transferred to the garden,
In the neighborhood of roses. From all sides
Breathed the sweetness of being...
But what? As soon as dawn came
A scorching ray burned her
A flower bred in prison...
22
"And like him, scorched me
The fire of a merciless day.
In vain I hid in the grass
My weary head;
A withered leaf is her crown
Thorn over my brow
Coiled, and in the face with fire
The earth itself breathed to me.
Glittering quickly in the sky,
Sparks swirled; from the white rocks
Steam flowed. The world of God slept
In a dumb daze
Despair heavy sleep.
At least the corncrake shouted,
Ile dragonfly live trill
I heard, or a stream
Baby talk ... Only a snake,
Rustling dry weeds,
Glittering yellow back
As if with a golden inscription
Blade covered to the bottom
Wandering loose sand,
Sliding carefully; Then,
Playing, basking on it,
Triple twisted in a ring;
That, as if suddenly burned,
She rushed, she jumped
And hid in the distant bushes ...
23
And everything was in heaven
Light and quiet. Through the vapors
Two mountains blackened in the distance,
Our monastery because of one
Glittered with battlements.
Below Aragva and Kura,
Silver edging
The soles of the fresh islands,
Through the roots of the whispering bushes
They ran together and easily ...
I was far from them!
I wanted to get up - in front of me
Everything swirled with speed;
I wanted to scream - my tongue is dry
Silent and motionless...
I was dying. I was tormented
Deadly nonsense!
It seemed to me
That I'm lying on the wet bottom
Deep river - and was
Around the mysterious haze.
And I crave eternal sing,
Like a cold stream of ice
Bubbling, poured into my chest ...
And I was only afraid to fall asleep
It was so sweet, I love it...
And above me in the sky
Wave crashed into wave
And the sun through the crystal waves
Shine sweeter than the moon...
And colorful herds of fish
Sometimes they played in the rays.
And I remember one of them:
She is friendlier than others.
She caressed me. Scales
Was covered in gold
Her back. She curled
Over my head more than once
And her green eyes
It was sadly tender and deep ...
And I could not be surprised:
Her silvery voice
He whispered strange words to me,
And he sang, and fell silent again.
He said: "My child,
Stay here with me
Free life in the water
And cold and calm.
*
"I will call my sisters:
We are a circular dance
Cheer up the misty eyes
And your spirit is tired.
*
"Sleep, your bed is soft,
Your cover is transparent.
Years will pass, centuries will pass
Under the voice of wonderful dreams.
*
“Oh my dear! I don't hide
That I love you,
I love like a free stream
I love my life…”
And for a long, long time I listened;
And it seemed like a sonorous stream
She poured out her quiet murmur
With the words of a golden fish.
Here I forgot. God's light
Faded in the eyes. crazy delirium
I gave in to the impotence of the body ...
24
“So I was found and raised…
You know the rest yourself.
I finished. believe my words
Or don't believe me, I don't care.
There is only one thing that makes me sad:
My corpse is cold and dumb
Will not smolder in the native land,
And the story of my bitter torments
Will not call between the walls of the deaf
Attention mournful draw
In my dark name.
25
“Farewell, father ... give me your hand;
You feel mine on fire...
Know this flame from a young age
Hiding, lived in my chest;
But now he has no food,
And he burned his prison
And return again to
Who is all in a lawful succession
Gives pain and peace...
But what's in it for me? - let it be in paradise
In the holy, transcendent land
My spirit will find its home...
Alas! - for a few minutes
Between steep and dark rocks,
Where I played as a child
I would trade heaven and eternity...
26
"When I begin to die,
And believe me, you won't have to wait long -
You led me to move
In our garden, in the place where they bloomed
White acacia two bushes ...
The grass between them is so thick
And the fresh air is so fragrant
And so transparently golden
Leaf playing in the sun!
They put me there.
By the glow of a blue day
I'm drunk for the last time.
From there you can see the Caucasus!
Perhaps he is from his heights
Greetings farewell will send me,
Will send with a cool breeze ...
And close to me before the end
The native sound will be heard again!
And I will think that a friend
Or brother, leaning over me,
Oter with attentive hand
Cold sweat from the face of death
And what sings in an undertone
He tells me about a lovely country ...
And with this thought I fall asleep
And I won't curse anyone!"
Mtsyri in Georgian means "non-serving monk", something like "novice". (Note by Lermontov).
Published during the life of the poet in 1840 in the collection "Poems of M. Lermontov" (pp. 121-159) with a pass under censorship conditions for some poems.
Written in 1839 (on the cover of the notebook there is Lermontov's note: "August 5, 1839").
In the autograph, the poem was called "Beri" with a note: "Beri, Georgian monk." There, on l. 3, the epigraph was first written: “On n’a qu’une seule patrie” (“Everyone has only one fatherland”), later crossed out by Lermontov and replaced by an epigraph from the 1st Book of Kings, ch. 14 (“Eating little honey, and now I die”). This biblical epigraph has the symbolic meaning of breaking the ban.
The title was changed by the poet himself, and the poem was included in the collection "Poems of M. Lermontov" under the name "Mtsyri". In Georgian, “mtsyri” means, firstly, “novice”, and secondly, “alien”, “foreigner”, who arrived voluntarily or was brought by force from foreign lands, a lonely person who does not have relatives, friends (see: V. Shaduri.
Notes on Lermontov's Georgian Relations. - Literary Georgia, 1964, No. 10, p. 102–103). Lermontov threw out many of the poems that were in the original version.
So, he crossed out, for example, 46 verses after the verse “I love like my life” (the end of the song of the goldfish, p. 423), which contained a description of the highlanders - Mtsyri's compatriots, including his father), who fought for their freedom .
We present them in full:
But soon a whirlwind of new dreams
Far carried away my thought,
And I saw before me
Great steppe ... Its edges
Drowned in the cloudy distance,
And the clouds went across the sky
Shaggy stormy crowd
With unspeakable speed:
In the desert rushes not faster
A herd of frightened horses
And now I hear: the steppe is buzzing,
Like a thousand hooves
They suddenly hit the ground.
I look around with fear
And I see: someone on a horse,
Vzvivaya ashes, flies to me,
Behind him is another, and a whole row ...
Their abusive outfit was wonderful!
On each was a steel helmet
Wrapped in a white cape
And put on under chain mail
On each red was a beshmet.
Their eyes sparkled proudly;
And with a wild whistle, like a thunderstorm,
They rushed past me.
And each, leaning from the horse,
Threw contempt full look
On my monastic attire
And with a loud laugh, he disappeared ...
Tormented by shame, I breathed a little,
There was lead in the heart of anguish ...
The last one was my father.
And here is a seething horse
He laid siege against me,
And quietly raising his hood,
Revealed a familiar pale face:
The autumn night was sadder
The fixed gaze of his eyes,
He smiled - but cruel
There was reproach in his smile!
And he began to call me with him,
Beckoning with a mighty hand
But I seem to have grown
To the damp earth: no thoughts, no tears,
Without feelings, without will, I stood
And he didn't answer.
Sometimes Lermontov himself threw out poetry, in all likelihood for censorship reasons. In particular, he crossed out 69 verses after the verse “And I cast my eyes around” (chapter 20), in which Mtsyri reproaches God for “giving him a prison instead of a homeland.”
These are the verses:
That edge seemed familiar to me ...
And I was scared, scared!
Here again measured in silence
There was a sound: and this time
I understood the meaning of it immediately:
It was the harbinger of a funeral
Big bell ringing.
And I listened, without thoughts, without strength,
It seemed that the call was coming out
From the heart like someone
He struck me in the chest with iron.
Oh god, I thought why
You gave me what you gave to everyone
And the fortress of strength, and thoughts of power,
Desire, youth and passion?
Why did you fill my mind
Unquenchable longing
By wild will? Why
You are on the ground for me alone
Gave a prison instead of a homeland?
You didn't want to save me!
You are my desired path
Did not indicate in the darkness of the night,
And now I am like a tame wolf.
So I murmured. It was the old man
Crazy desperate cry
Suffering forced groan.
Tell? Will I be forgiven?
I was deceived for the first time!
Until now, every hour
Gave dark hope
I prayed, and waited, and lived.
And suddenly a sad succession
The days of childhood stood before me.
And I remembered your dark temple
And along the cracked walls
Images of saints
Your land. How their eyes
Followed me slowly
With a grim and mute menace!
And on the lattice window
The sun played in the sky...
Oh how I wanted to go there
From the darkness of the cell and prayers,
Into that wonderful world of passions and battles...
I swallowed bitter tears
And my childish voice trembled,
When I sang the praise
Who on earth is me alone
Instead of a homeland, he gave me a prison...
ABOUT! I recognized that prophetic ringing
He was accustomed to it from childhood
My hearing. And then I realized
What is the trace to my homeland
Never lay.
And I quickly lost heart.
I got cold. Dagger,
Stuck in the heart, they say
So cold pours into the veins.
I despised myself. I was
For tears and rage without strength.
I am with dark horror at that moment
I realized my insignificance
And strangled in my chest
Traces of hope and passion
How an offended serpent strangles
Your trembling children...
Tell me I'm weak at heart
Didn't he deserve his lot?
In the poem "Mtsyri" many thoughts and individual verses from earlier poems - "Confessions" and "Boyar Orsha" are repeated. If in "Confession" the character of the hero is revealed mainly in the feeling of love, then in "Boyar Orsha" it becomes more complicated, his inner world expands: Arseny "we yearn for liberty."
Mtsyri's behavior is already completely determined by aspirations for freedom. The motive of opposing nature to the laws of society, which restrict the freedom of the individual, turned out to be especially stable in Mtsyri.
The image of Mtsyra is the original creation of Lermontov.
Unlike the disappointed hero of a romantic poem, Mtsyri is characterized by a desire for a bright and fulfilling life.
In his romantic image, the poet created the heroic character of a fighter against oppression and violence against the individual. Mtsyri opposes the monastic world, since the monastery is a symbol of reality, hostile naturalness and simplicity.
Nature in the poem is not only a picturesque background, but also an effective force. It has grandeur and beauty that are absent in human society.
Nature contains a formidable danger, but it also brings the joy of enjoying beauty, wild freedom, allows the hero to fully express himself. Lermontov's position is determined by the Rousseauist assertion that in human nature it is the key to possible harmony, while in society, on the contrary, it is a source of disharmony.
The problematic of the poem anticipates a typical Tolstoyan literary situation: the idea of a simple patriarchal life as a social norm and the tragic impossibility of the hero to realize his desire for it.
There is a story by P. A. Viskovatov about the origin of the idea of the poem, based on the testimony of A. P. Shan-Girey and A. A. Khastatov. The poet, wandering in 1837 along the old Georgian Military Highway, “stumbled in Mtskheta ... on a lonely monk, or, rather, an old monastic servant, “Beri” in Georgian.
The watchman was the last of the brethren of the abolished nearby monastery. Lermontov got into a conversation with him and learned from him that he was a mountaineer, captured by a child by General Yermolov during the expedition.
The general took him with him and left the sick boy to the monastery brethren. Here he grew up; For a long time he could not get used to the monastery, he yearned and made attempts to escape to the mountains. The consequence of one such attempt was a long illness that brought him to the brink of the grave.
Having recovered, the savage calmed down and remained in the monastery, where he became especially attached to the old monk. The curious and lively story of "Bary" made an impression on Lermontov ... and so he decided to use what was suitable in "Confession" and "Boyar Orsha", and transferred all the action from Spain and then the Lithuanian border to Georgia.
Now, in the hero of the poem, he could reflect the daring of the adamant free sons of the Caucasus, which he liked, and in the poem itself, depict the beauties of Caucasian nature ”(Rus. Starina, 1887, book 10, pp. 124–125).
Even if the information provided by Viskovatov is not entirely reliable, one cannot but take into account the fact that the capture of highlander children by the Russians was a typical phenomenon during the conquest of the Caucasus.
It is known, for example, that the artist-academician P. Z. Zakharov (from Chechens) was taken prisoner by the Russians as a child and General Yermolov took him to Tiflis. Lermontov could have known the story of Zakharov full of drama and others similar to it (N. Sh. Shabanyants.
Academician Zakharov P. Z. (Chechen artist) (1816–1846). Ed. 2nd, revised. and additional Grozny, 1974). The plot situation and images of the poem are quite concrete, although they are symbolic at the same time. The real image of the highlander hero languishing in captivity is at the same time a symbol of a young man contemporary to Lermontov, who experiences a similar kind of drama in the conditions after December 14, 1825.
"Mtsyri" is almost entirely a monologue of the hero, which is one of the characteristic features of a romantic poem. The verse of the poem is extremely expressive; “This iambic tetrameter with only masculine endings, as in The Prisoner of Chillon, according to V. G. Belinsky, “sounds and abruptly falls, like a blow of a sword striking its victim.
Elasticity, energy and sonorous, monotonous fall are surprisingly in harmony with the concentrated feeling, the indestructible strength of a powerful nature and the tragic position of the hero of the poem ”(V. G. Belinsky. Poln. sobr. soch., vol. 4. M., 1954, p. 543).
At the beginning of the poem, Lermontov described the ancient Mtskheta Cathedral and the graves of the last Georgian kings, Heraclius II and George XII, under which Georgia was annexed to Russia in 1801. The Caucasian material in the poem is saturated with folklore motifs.
Thus, the central episode "Mtsyri" - the battle of the hero with the leopard - is based on the motifs of Georgian folk poetry, in particular the Khevsurian song about the tiger and the youth, the theme of which was also reflected in Shota Rustaveli's poem "The Knight in the Panther's Skin" (see: Irakli Andronikov Lermontov, Moscow, 1951, pp. 144–145).
There are 14 known versions of the ancient Georgian song “The Youth and the Tiger”, published by A. G. Shanidze (see: L. P. Semenov. Lermontov and the folklore of the Caucasus. Pyatigorsk, 1941, pp. 60–62).
The memoirs of contemporaries about the reading of "Mtsyri" by the author himself have been preserved. “It happened to me once,” writes A. N. Muravyov, “in Tsarskoe Selo to catch the best moment of his inspiration.
On a summer evening I went to see him and found him at his desk, with a burning face and fiery eyes, which were especially expressive in him. "What's wrong with you?" I asked. “Sit down and listen,” he said, and at that very moment, in a fit of delight, he read to me, from beginning to end, the whole magnificent poem by Mtsyri ... which had just poured out from under his inspired pen ... No story has ever produced on I was so strongly impressed” (A. N. Muravyov. Acquaintance with Russian poets. Kiev, 1871, p. 27).
It is also known that Lermontov on May 9, 1840 (on Gogol’s name day) in Moscow “read by heart to Gogol and others who happened to be here, an excerpt from his new poem“ Mtsyri ”, and read, they say, perfectly” (S. T. Aksakov, History of My Acquaintance with Gogol, Moscow, 1960, p.
"Mtsyri" as a romantic poem about a rebel hero had its predecessors in literature. It was pointed to its connection with I. I. Kozlov's "Chernets" (1825) (the external similarity of the plots and different ideological content), with the Decembrist literature. In particular, the proximity of "Mtsyra" to "Voinarovsky", "Nalivaiko" and "Dumas" by Ryleev (all - 1825) was noted.
Lermontov's poem also reveals his acquaintance with the poetry of I.-V. Goethe: in the song of the mermaid fish, to a certain extent, the plot situation of the poems "The Forest King" (1782) and "Fisherman" (1779) is recreated.
The rebellious pathos of the poem "Mtsyri" turned out to be close to the revolutionary democrats. “What a fiery soul, what a mighty spirit, what a gigantic nature this Mtsyri has! This is the favorite ideal of our poet, this is the reflection in poetry of the shadow of his own personality.
In everything that Mtsyri says, it breathes with his own spirit, strikes him with his own power, ”Belinsky noted (V. G. Belinsky. Poln. sobr. soch., vol. 4. M., 1954, p. 537).
According to N. P. Ogarev, Lermontov’s “Mtsyri” is “his most clear or only ideal” (N. P. Ogarev. Selected Works, vol. 2. M., 1956, p. 485).
"Mtsyri" is a lyric poem by Lermontov. It was written in 1839 and published a year later in a collection called Poems by M. Lermontov. One of Mikhail Yuryevich's contemporaries, critic V. Belinsky, wrote that this work reflects "our poet's favorite ideal." One of the fine examples of classical romantic Russian poetry - the poem "Mtsyri" - will be discussed in this article.
History of writing
"Mtsyri" is a work written under the impression of life in the Caucasus. The prototype of the plot of the poem was a story from the life of the highlanders, heard by Lermontov in 1837, during the first exile. Mikhail Yuryevich, traveling along the Georgian Military Highway, met a lonely monk in Mtskheta. He told him the story of his life. The clergyman as a child was captured by a Russian general and left in a local monastery, where he spent his whole life, despite longing for his homeland.
M.Yu. could use some elements of Georgian folklore in his work. Lermontov. The poem "Mtsyri" in its plot contains a central episode in which the hero fights with a leopard. In folk Georgian poetry, there is the theme of a fight between a young man and a tiger, which is reflected in another famous poem - "The Knight in the Panther's Skin" by Sh. Rustaveli.
Title and epigraph
Translated from the Georgian language, “mtsyri” is “non-serving monk”, “novice”. This word also has a second meaning: “foreigner”, “newcomer from foreign lands”. As you can see, Lermontov chose the most appropriate title for his poem. It is interesting that initially Mikhail Yuryevich called his poem "Beri", which in Georgian means "monk". has also undergone changes. At first, Lermontov used the phrase for him: "On n'a qu'une seule patrie" ("Everyone has only one fatherland"), but later the poet chose for the epigraph an excerpt from the 1st Book of Kings (Chapter 14): "Eating delicious little honey, and behold I am dying.” These words symbolize a violation of the natural course of things.
The poem "Mtsyri", the content of which is known to many Russian readers, tells about the tragic fate of a Caucasian boy, captured and taken away by the Russian general Yermolov from his native land. On the way, the child fell ill and was left in one of the local monasteries. Here the boy was forced to spend his life "away from sunlight". The child missed the Caucasian expanses all the time, strove back to the mountains. After some time, he seemed to get used to the cramped conditions of life in the monastery, learned a foreign language and was already preparing to be tonsured a monk. However, at the age of seventeen, the young man suddenly felt a strong spiritual impulse that made him suddenly leave the monastery and run away to unknown lands. He felt free, the memory of childhood returned to him. The guy remembered his native language, the faces of people who were once close to him. Intoxicated with fresh air and childhood memories, the young man spent three days in the wild. In this short period, he saw everything that captivity deprived him of. The guy admired the pictures of Georgian mighty nature, a beautiful girl gracefully filling a jug with water. He defeated the leopard in a deadly fight and comprehended the degree of his own strength and dexterity. For three days, the young man lived a whole life filled with vivid emotions and sensations. Found completely by accident in the vicinity of the monastery with no memory, the guy refused to eat, because he realized that he could not continue his former life in captivity. The way to the rebellious heart of Mtsyri was found only by the old monk who baptized him. Confessing to the young man, the elder learned about what the young man had seen and felt during the three days of his failed escape.
Genre and composition of the poem
Many works about life in the Caucasus were written by Lermontov. The poem "Mtsyri" is one of them. The poet associates the Caucasus with the territory of unlimited liberty and freedom, where a person has the opportunity to prove himself in a fight with the elements, merge with nature and subordinate it to his own will, win the battle with himself.
The plot of the romantic poem is centered around the feelings and experiences of one lyrical hero - Mtsyri. The form of the work - a confession - makes it possible to most truthfully and deeply reveal the mental image of a young man. The composition of the work is typical for this kind of poems - the hero is placed in unusual circumstances, the monologue-confession occupies the main place, the internal state of a person is described, and not the external situation.
However, there are differences from a typical romantic work. There is no understatement or understatement in the poem. The place of action is precisely indicated here, the poet informs the reader about the circumstances that led the young man to the monastery. Mtsyri's excited speech contains a consistent and logical account of the events that happened to him.
Nature and reality
The poem "Mtsyri" is not only a psychologically reliable presentation of the inner experiences of the protagonist, but also a magnificent description of Georgian nature. She is a picturesque background against which the events in the work unfold, and also serves as a tool for the reaction of a young man to a thunderstorm, when he “would be glad to hug the storm”, describes him as a man of unbridled and courageous, ready to fight with the elements. The mental state of the hero on a quiet morning after a thunderstorm, his readiness to comprehend the secrets of "heaven and earth" characterizes the guy as a subtle and sensitive person, able to see and understand beauty. Nature for Lermontov is a source of inner harmony. The monastery in the poem is a symbol of hostile reality, forcing a strong and extraordinary person to die under the influence of unnecessary conventions.
Antecedents in literature
The poem "Mtsyri", the heroes of which are described in this article, has several literary predecessors. A similar story about the fate of a young monk is described in I. Kozlov's poem "The Chernets". Despite the similar content, these works have a different ideological component. In Lermontov's poem, the influence of the Decembrist literature and poetry of I.V. Goethe. "Mtsyri" carries motifs that have already appeared in the early works of the poet: "Boyarin Orsha" and "Confession".
Lermontov's contemporaries noticed the similarity of Mtsyri with Byron's Prisoner of Chignon, translated into Russian by Zhukovsky. However, the hero hates society and wants to be left alone, while Mtsyri strives for people.
Criticism
M. Lermontov received the most flattering reviews from critics. "Mtsyri" conquered literary critics not only with the ideological content, but also with the form of presentation. Belinsky noted that with the masculine rhyme with which the work is written, “it sounds and abruptly falls like a blow of a sword,” and this verse is in harmony with “the invincible power of a mighty nature and the tragic position of the hero of the poem.”
Lermontov's contemporaries recall with delight the reading of "Mtsyra" by the author himself. in "Acquaintance with Russian Poets" he described the strong impression that he received from reading this poem by Mikhail Yuryevich in Tsarskoye Selo.
Conclusion
"Mtsyri" is the best poem by M.Yu. Lermontov. In it, the poet demonstrated his poetic skill and expressed ideas that were close to his rebellious nature. The passion and strength with which Mikhail Yuryevich described the suffering of a young man capable of great accomplishments, but forced to vegetate in the silence of the monastery walls, certainly express the innermost feelings of the author himself. Each of us can now re-read "Mtsyri", feel the power and beauty of this amazing work and ... touch the beauty.