Garnet bracelet . Kuprin A.I.
Princess Vera Nikolaevna Sheina, the wife of the marshal of the nobility, had already lived with her husband in the country for some time, because their city apartment was being renovated. Today was her name day, and therefore guests were supposed to arrive. The first to appear was Vera's sister, Anna Nikolaevna Friesse, who was married to a very rich and very stupid man who did nothing, but was registered with some charitable society and had the title of chamber junker. Grandfather, General Anosov, whom the sisters love very much, should come. Guests began to arrive after five o'clock. Among them is the famous pianist Jenny Reiter, a friend of Princess Vera at the Smolny Institute, Anna's husband brought with him Professor Speshnikov and the local vice-governor von Seck. Prince Vasily Lvovich is accompanied by his widowed sister Lyudmila Lvovna. Lunch is a lot of fun, everyone has known each other for a long time.
Vera Nikolaevna suddenly noticed that there were thirteen guests. This scared her a little. Everyone sat down to play poker. Vera did not want to play, and she was on her way to the terrace, where they were laying tea, when the maid beckoned her from the drawing room with a somewhat mysterious air. She handed her a package that a messenger had brought half an hour earlier.
Vera opened the package - under the paper was a small red plush jewelry case. It contained an oval gold bracelet, and inside it was a carefully folded note. She unrolled it. The handwriting looked familiar to her. She put the note aside and decided to look at the bracelet first. “It was gold, low-grade, very thick, but puffy, and on the outside it was completely covered with small old, poorly polished grenades. But on the other hand, in the middle of the bracelet, surrounded by some ancient small green stone, five beautiful cabochon garnets, each the size of a pea, rose. When Vera, with a random movement, successfully turned the bracelet in front of the light of an electric light bulb, then in them, deep under their smooth ovoid surface, lovely, densely red living lights suddenly lit up. Then she read the lines written in small, beautiful calligraphy. It was a congratulation on the day of the Angel. The author reported that this bracelet belonged to his great-grandmother, then his late mother wore it. The pebble in the middle is a very rare variety of garnet - green garnet. He further wrote: “According to an old legend that has been preserved in our family, he has the ability to communicate the gift of foresight to women who wear it and drives away heavy thoughts from them, while protecting men from violent death ... I beg you not to be angry with me. I blush at the memory of my insolence seven years ago, when I dared to write stupid and wild letters to you, young lady, and even expect an answer to them. Now all I have left is reverence, eternal admiration and slavish devotion...” “Show Vasya or not? And if so, when? Now or after the guests? No, it’s better later - now not only this unfortunate person will be ridiculous, but I will be with him, ”Vera thought and could not take her eyes off the five scarlet bloody fires trembling inside the five grenades.
Meanwhile, the evening went on as usual. Prince Vasily Lvovich showed his sister, Anosov and brother-in-law a homemade humorous album with handwritten drawings. Their laughter attracted everyone else. There was a story: "Princess Vera and the telegraph operator in love." “Better not,” she said.
Vera softly touched her husband's shoulder. But he either did not hear, or did not attach importance. He humorously retells the old letters of a man in love with Vera. He wrote them when she was not yet married. Prince Vasily calls the author a telegraph operator. Husband keeps talking...
“Gentlemen, who wants tea?” - asked Vera Nikolaevna.
General Anosov tells his goddaughters about the love he had in his youth in Bulgaria with a Bulgarian girl. When the time came for the troops to leave, they swore an oath of eternal mutual love to each other and said goodbye forever. "And that's it?" asked Lyudmila Lvovna disappointedly.
Later, when the guests had almost all left, Vera, seeing off her grandfather, quietly said to her husband: “Go and see ... there in my desk, in a drawer, is a red case, and in it is a letter. Read it."
It was so dark that I had to grope my way with my feet. The general led Vera by the arm. “That Ludmila Lvovna is funny,” he suddenly spoke, as if continuing aloud the course of his thoughts. - And I want to say that people in our time have forgotten how to love. I don't see true love. And in my time I didn’t see it!” Marriage, in his opinion, means nothing. “Take at least Vasya and me. Can we call our marriage unhappy?” Vera asked. Anosov was silent for a long time. Then he drawled reluctantly: "Well, well ... let's say - an exception." Why do people get married? As for women, they are afraid to remain in girls, they want to be a mistress, a lady, independent ... Men have other motives. Tiredness from a single life, from a mess in the house, from tavern dinners ... Again, the thought of children ... There are sometimes thoughts about a dowry. But where is love? Love disinterested, selfless, not waiting for a reward? “Wait, wait, Vera, now you want me again about your Vasya? Really, I love him. He is a good guy. Who knows, maybe the future will show his love in the light of great beauty. But you understand what kind of love I'm talking about. Love must be a tragedy. The greatest secret in the world! No comforts of life, calculations and compromises should concern her.” “Have you ever seen such love, grandfather?” “No,” the old man answered decisively. - True, I know two similar cases ... In one regiment of our division ... there was the wife of a regimental commander ... Bony, red-haired, thin ... In addition, a morphine drinker. And then one day, in the fall, they send a newly made ensign to their regiment ... just from a military school.
A month later, this old horse completely mastered him. He's a page, he's a servant, he's a slave... By Christmas, she was tired of him. She returned to one of her former ... passions. But he couldn't. Follows her like a ghost. He was exhausted, emaciated, blackened ...
And then one spring they arranged some kind of May Day or a picnic in the regiment ... They returned back at night on foot along the railroad track. Suddenly, a freight train is coming towards them ... she suddenly whispers in the ensign's ear: “You all say that you love me. But if I order you, you probably won’t throw yourself under the train.” And he, without answering a word, ran - and under the train. He, they say, calculated correctly ... so he would have been neatly cut in half and cut. But some idiot decided to hold him back and push him away. Didn't make it. The ensign, as he clung to the rails with his hands, both his hands were chopped off ... And the man disappeared ... in the meanest way ... "
The general tells another story. When the regiment was leaving for the war and the train was already moving, the wife shouted loudly to her husband: “Remember, take care of Volodya<своего любовника>! If anything happens to him, I will leave home and never come back. And I'll take the kids." At the front, this captain, a brave soldier, looked after this coward and loafer Vishnyakov, like a nanny, like a mother. Everyone was delighted when they learned that Vishnyakov died in the hospital from typhus ...
The general asks Vera what the story with the telegraph operator is. Vera told in detail about some madman who began to pursue her with his love two years before her marriage. She has never seen him and does not know his last name. He signed G.S.Zh. Once he mentioned that he was serving in some state institution as a small official - he did not mention a word about the telegraph. He must have kept an eye on her, because in his letters he indicated exactly where she went in the evenings ... and how she was dressed. At first his letters were somewhat vulgar, though quite chaste. But once Vera wrote to him so that he would not bother her anymore. Since then, he began to be limited to congratulations on holidays. Princess Vera spoke about the bracelet and about the strange letter from her mysterious admirer. “Yes, yes,” the general drawled at last. “Maybe it’s just a crazy guy… or… maybe it’s this kind of love that crossed your life path, Verochka…”
Vera's brother Nikolai and Vasily Lvovich are worried that an unknown person will boast to someone that Princess Vera Nikolaevna Sheina accepts gifts from him, then send something else, then go to jail for embezzlement, and the princes of Sheina will be called as witnesses "... We decided that he must be found, the bracelet returned and the lecture read.” “For some reason, I felt sorry for this unfortunate man,” Vera said hesitantly.
Vera's husband and brother find desired apartment on the eighth floor, up the dirty, spit-stained stairs. The inhabitant of the Zheltkov room was a man “very pale, with a tender girlish face, blue eyes and a stubborn childish chin with a dimple in the middle; he must have been about thirty years old, thirty five.” He silently accepts his bracelet back, apologizing for his behavior. Upon learning that the gentlemen were going to turn to the authorities for help, Zheltkov laughed, sat down on the sofa and lit a cigarette. “Now is the hardest moment of my life. And I must, prince, speak to you without any conventions... Will you listen to me?” “Listen,” Shein said. Zheltkov says that he loves Shein's wife. It is difficult for him to say this, but seven years of hopeless and polite love give him this right. He knows that he can never stop loving her. They cannot cut off this feeling of his by anything, except perhaps death. Zheltkov asks permission to speak on the phone with Princess Vera Nikolaevna. He will relay the contents of the conversation to them.
He returned ten minutes later. His eyes shone and were deep, as if filled with unshed tears. “I'm ready,” he said, “and you won't hear anything from me tomorrow. It's like I'm dead for you. But one condition - I'm telling you, Prince Vasily Lvovich - you see, I spent the government money, and I have to flee this city anyway. Will you allow me to write another last letter to Princess Vera Nikolaevna?” Shane allows.
In the evening, at the dacha, Vasily Lvovich told his wife in detail about the meeting with Zheltkov. He seemed to feel compelled to do so. At night, Vera says, "I know this man will kill himself."
Garnet bracelet
A.I. KUPRIN
GARNET BRACELET
I
In mid-August, before the birth of the new moon, the bad weather suddenly set in, which is so characteristic of the northern coast of the Black Sea. Sometimes for whole days a thick fog lay heavily over the land and the sea, and then the huge siren in the lighthouse roared day and night like a mad bull. Then from morning till morning it rained incessantly, fine as water dust, turning clay roads and paths into solid thick mud, in which wagons and carriages got bogged down for a long time. Then a fierce hurricane blew from the northwest, from the side of the steppe; from it the tops of the trees swayed, bending down and straightening up, like waves in a storm, the iron roofs of the dachas rattled at night, and it seemed as if someone was running along them in shod boots; window frames trembled, doors slammed, and howled wildly in chimneys. Several fishing boats got lost in the sea, and two did not return at all: only a week later the corpses of fishermen were thrown out in different places on the coast.
The inhabitants of the suburban seaside resort - mostly Greeks and Jews, cheerful and suspicious, like all southerners - hastily moved to the city. Cargo drogs stretched endlessly along the softened highway, overloaded with all sorts of household items: mattresses, sofas, chests, chairs, washstands, samovars. It was pitiful, and sad, and disgusting to look through the muddy muslin of rain at this miserable belongings, which seemed so worn out, dirty and beggarly; on the maids and cooks sitting on top of the wagon on a wet tarpaulin with some kind of irons, tins and baskets in their hands, on sweaty, exhausted horses, which now and then stopped, trembling at the knees, smoking and often carrying sides, on hoarsely cursing quails, wrapped up from the rain in mats. It was even sadder to see the abandoned dachas with their sudden spaciousness, emptiness and bareness, with mutilated flower beds, broken glasses, abandoned dogs and all sorts of dacha rubbish from cigarette butts, pieces of paper, shards, boxes and pharmaceutical vials.
But by the beginning of September, the weather suddenly changed abruptly and quite unexpectedly. Quiet, cloudless days immediately set in, so clear, sunny and warm that there were none even in July. On the dry, compressed fields, on their prickly yellow bristles, autumn cobwebs shone with a mica sheen. The calmed trees silently and obediently dropped their yellow leaves.
Princess Vera Nikolaevna Sheina, the wife of the marshal of the nobility, could not leave the dachas, because the repairs in their city house had not yet been completed. And now she was very glad of the lovely days that had come, the silence, the solitude, the clean air, the chirping of the swallows on the telegraph wires as they flew away, and the gentle salty breeze that weakly pulled from the sea.
II
In addition, today was her name day - the seventeenth of September. According to sweet, distant memories of childhood, she always loved this day and always expected something happy and wonderful from him. Her husband, leaving in the morning on urgent business in the city, put a case with beautiful pear-shaped pearl earrings on her night table, and this gift amused her even more.
She was alone in the whole house. Her unmarried brother Nikolai, a fellow prosecutor, who usually lived with them, also went to the city, to the court. For dinner, the husband promised to bring a few and only the closest acquaintances. It turned out well that the name day coincided with summer time. In the city, one would have to spend money on a big ceremonial dinner, perhaps even on a ball, but here, in the country, one could manage with the smallest expenses. Prince Shein, despite his prominent position in society, and perhaps thanks to him, could barely make ends meet. The huge family estate was almost completely upset by his ancestors, and he had to live above his means: to make receptions, do charity, dress well, keep horses, etc. Princess Vera, whose former passionate love for her husband had long since passed into a strong, faithful feeling, true friendship, tried with all her might to help the prince refrain from complete ruin. She in many ways, imperceptibly for him, denied herself and, as far as possible, economized in the household.
Now she was walking in the garden and carefully cutting flowers with scissors to dining table. The flower beds were empty and looked disordered. Bloomed multi-colored terry carnations, and also levkoy - half in flowers, and half in thin green pods, smelling of cabbage, rose bushes they also gave - for the third time this summer - buds and roses, but already shredded, rare, as if degenerate. On the other hand, dahlias, peonies and asters bloomed magnificently with their cold, arrogant beauty, spreading an autumnal, grassy, sad smell in the sensitive air. The rest of the flowers, after their luxurious love and excessive abundant summer motherhood, quietly showered countless seeds of a future life on the ground.
Close by on the highway came the familiar sound of a three-ton car horn. It was the sister of Princess Vera, Anna Nikolaevna Friesse, who had promised in the morning to come by phone to help her sister receive guests and take care of the house.
Subtle hearing did not deceive Vera. She walked towards. A few minutes later a graceful carriage came to an abrupt halt at the dacha gate, and the driver, deftly jumping down from the seat, flung open the door.
The sisters kissed happily. From early childhood, they were attached to each other by a warm and caring friendship. In appearance, they were strangely not similar to each other. The eldest, Vera, took after her mother, a beautiful Englishwoman, with her tall, flexible figure, gentle, but cold and proud face, beautiful, although rather large hands, and that charming sloping of her shoulders, which can be seen in old miniatures. The youngest - Anna, - on the contrary, inherited the Mongolian blood of her father, a Tatar prince, whose grandfather was baptized only at the beginning of the 19th century and whose ancient family went back to Tamerlane, or Lang-Temir, as her father proudly called her, in Tatar, this great bloodsucker. She was half a head shorter than her sister, somewhat broad in the shoulders, lively and frivolous, a mocker. Her face was of a strongly Mongolian type, with rather noticeable cheekbones, with narrow eyes, which, moreover, she screwed up due to myopia, with an arrogant expression in her small, sensual mouth, especially in her full lower lip slightly protruding forward - this face, however, captivated some then an elusive and incomprehensible charm, which consisted, perhaps, in a smile, perhaps in the deep femininity of all features, perhaps in a piquant, provocatively coquettish facial expression. Her graceful ugliness excited and attracted the attention of men much more often and stronger than her sister's aristocratic beauty.
She was married to a very rich and very stupid man who did absolutely nothing, but was registered with some charitable institution and had the title of chamber junker. She could not stand her husband, but gave birth to two children from him, a boy and a girl; She decided not to have any more children, and never did. As for Vera, she greedily wanted children and even, it seemed to her, the more the better, but for some reason they were not born to her, and she painfully and ardently adored the pretty anemic children of her younger sister, always decent and obedient, with pale mealy faces and curled flaxen doll hair.
Anna consisted entirely of cheerful carelessness and sweet, sometimes strange contradictions. She willingly indulged in the most risky flirting in all the capitals and in all the resorts of Europe, but she never cheated on her husband, whom, however, she contemptuously ridiculed both in the eyes and behind the eyes; she was extravagant, terribly fond of gambling, dancing, strong impressions, sharp spectacles, visited dubious cafes abroad, but at the same time she was distinguished by generous kindness and deep, sincere piety, which forced her even to secretly accept Catholicism. She had a rare beauty back, chest and shoulders. Going to big balls, she was exposed much more than the limits allowed by decency and fashion, but it was said that under the low neckline she always wore a sackcloth.
Vera, on the other hand, was strictly simple, coldly and a little condescendingly kind to everyone, independent and royally calm.
III
My God, how good are you here! How good! - Anna said, walking with quick and small steps next to her sister along the path. - If possible, let's sit a little on a bench above the cliff. I haven't seen the sea in such a long time. And what a wonderful air: you breathe - and your heart rejoices. In the Crimea, in Miskhor, last summer I made an amazing discovery. Do you know what sea water smells like during the surf? Imagine - mignonette.
Vera smiled softly.
- You're a dreamer.
- No no. I also remember the time everyone laughed at me when I said that there is some kind of pink tint in the moonlight. And the other day the artist Boritsky - that's the one who paints my portrait - agreed that I was right and that artists have long known about this.
- Is the artist your new hobby?
- You always come up with! - Anna laughed and, quickly going to the very edge of the cliff, which fell like a sheer wall deep into the sea, looked down and suddenly screamed in horror and recoiled back with a pale face.
- Oh, how high! she said in a weakened and trembling voice. When I look from such a height, my chest always tickles somehow sweetly and disgustingly ... and my toes ache ... And yet it pulls, pulls ...
She wanted to bend over the cliff again, but her sister stopped her.
- Anna, my dear, for God's sake! It makes my head spin when you do that. Please sit down.
- Well, well, well, sat down ... But just look, what beauty, what joy - just the eye can not get enough. If you knew how grateful I am to God for all the miracles that he has done for us!
Both thought for a moment. Deep, deep beneath them lay the sea. The shore was not visible from the bench, and therefore the feeling of infinity and grandeur of the expanse of the sea intensified even more. The water was tenderly calm and cheerfully blue, brightening only in oblique smooth stripes in the places of the current and turning into a deep blue on the horizon.
Fishing boats, hardly marked by the eye - they seemed so small - dozed motionless in the sea surface, not far from the coast. And then, as if standing in the air, not moving forward, a three-masted vessel, all dressed from top to bottom with uniform white slender sails, bulging from the wind.
I understand you, - the older sister said thoughtfully, - but somehow it’s not the same with me as with you. When I see the sea for the first time after a long time, it both excites me, and pleases, and amazes me. As if for the first time I see a huge, solemn miracle. But then, when I get used to it, it starts to crush me with its flat emptiness... I miss looking at it, and I try not to look anymore. Bored. Anna smiled.
- What are you? the sister asked.
“Last summer,” Anna said slyly, “we rode from Yalta in a big cavalcade on horseback to Uch-Kosh. It's there, behind the forestry, above the waterfall. First we got into the cloud, it was very damp and hard to see, and we all climbed up the steep path between the pines. And suddenly, somehow, the forest ended immediately, and we came out of the fog. Imagine: a narrow platform on a rock, and under our feet we have an abyss. The villages below seem no bigger than a matchbox, the forests and gardens look like fine grass. The whole area descends to the sea, like a geographical map. And then there is the sea! Fifty versts, a hundred ahead. It seemed to me that I hung in the air and was about to fly. Such beauty, such ease! I turn around and say to the guide in delight: "What? All right, Seyid-ogly?" And he only smacked his tongue: "Oh, sir, how tired of all this mine. We see it every day."
- Thank you for the comparison, - Vera laughed, - no, I just think that we northerners will never understand the charms of the sea. I love the forest. Do you remember the forest we have in Yegorovsky?.. How can he ever get bored? Pine trees!.. And what mosses!.. And fly agarics! Accurately made of red satin and embroidered with white beads. The silence is so... cool.
- I don't care, I love everything, - Anna answered. - And most of all I love my little sister, my prudent Verenka. There are only two of us in the world.
She hugged older sister and snuggled up to her, cheek to cheek. And suddenly she caught on.
- No, how stupid I am! You and I, as if in a novel, sit and talk about nature, but I completely forgot about my gift. Here look. I'm just afraid, will you like it?
She took out from her handbag a small notebook in a surprising binding: on the old blue velvet, worn and gray with time, a dull gold filigree pattern of rare complexity, subtlety and beauty curled - obviously, the love work of the hands of a skillful and patient artist. The book was attached to a gold chain as thin as a thread, the pages in the middle were replaced by ivory tablets.
- What a wonderful thing! Charm! - Vera said and kissed her sister. Thank you. Where did you get such a treasure?
- In an antique shop. You know my weakness for rummaging through old junk. So I came across this prayer book. Look, you see how the ornament here makes the figure of a cross. True, I found only one binding, I had to invent everything else - leaves, fasteners, a pencil. But Mollinet did not at all want to understand me, no matter how I interpreted him. The clasps had to be in the same style as the whole pattern, matte, old gold, fine carving, and God knows what he did. But the chain is real Venetian, very ancient.
Vera affectionately stroked the beautiful binding.
- What a deep antiquity! .. How long can this book be? she asked.
- I'm afraid to be precise. Approximately the end of the seventeenth century, the middle of the eighteenth ...
- How strange, - said Vera with a thoughtful smile. - Here I am holding in my hands a thing that, perhaps, the hands of the Marquise Pompadour or Queen Antoinette herself touched ... But you know, Anna, only you could come up with a crazy thought convert the prayer book into a lady's carnet [ Notebook; French]. However, let's go and see what's going on there.
They entered the house through a large stone terrace, closed on all sides by thick trellises of Isabella grapes. Plentiful black clusters, emitting a faint smell of strawberries, hung heavily between the dark, in some places gilded by the sun greenery. A green half-light spread over the entire terrace, from which the faces of the women immediately turned pale.
- You order to cover here? Anna asked.
- Yes, I myself thought so at first ... But now the evenings are so cold. It's better in the dining room. And let the men go here to smoke.
- Will anyone be interesting?
- I do not know yet. I only know that our grandfather will be.
Ah, dear grandfather. Here is joy! Anna exclaimed and threw up her hands. “I don’t think I’ve seen him for a hundred years.”
- There will be Vasya's sister and, it seems, Professor Speshnikov. Yesterday, Annenka, I just lost my head. You know that they both love to eat - both the grandfather and the professor. But neither here nor in the city - you can't get anything for any money. Luka found quails somewhere - he ordered a familiar hunter - and something is wiser over them. The roast beef came out relatively good - alas! - the inevitable roast beef. Very good crabs.
- Well, not so bad. You don't worry. However, between us, you yourself have a weakness for delicious food.
- But there will be something rare. This morning the fisherman brought a gurnard. I saw it myself. Just some kind of monster. Even scary.
Anna, greedily curious about everything that concerned her and that did not concern her, immediately demanded that they bring her a gurnard.
The tall, clean-shaven, yellow-faced cook Luka came in with a large, oblong white tub, which he held with difficulty by the ears, afraid to splash water on the parquet.
“Twelve and a half pounds, Your Excellency,” he said with a special chef's pride. “We weighed just now.
The fish was too big for the pelvis and lay on the bottom with its tail curled up. Its scales shone with gold, the fins were bright red, and from the huge predatory muzzle two pale blue, folded, like a fan, long wings went to the sides. The gurnard was still alive and worked hard with its gills.
The younger sister gently touched the head of the fish with her little finger. But the rooster suddenly flapped its tail, and Anna with a squeal pulled her hand away.
- Don't you worry, Your Excellency, all in at its best arrange, said the cook, obviously understanding Anna's anxiety. - Now the Bulgarian brought two melons. Pineapple. Kind of like cantaloupe, but the smell is much more fragrant. And I also dare to ask Your Excellency, what sauce would you like to serve with a rooster: tartar or Polish, otherwise you can just crackers in oil?
- Do as you like. Go! - ordered the princess.
IV
After five o'clock guests began to arrive. Prince Vasily Lvovich brought with him his widowed sister Lyudmila Lvovna, after her husband Durasov, a plump, good-natured and unusually silent woman; a secular young rich varmint and reveler Vasyuchkb, whom the whole city knew under this familiar name, very pleasant in society with his ability to sing and recite, as well as arrange lively pictures, performances and charity bazaars; the famous pianist Jenny Reiter, a friend of Princess Vera at the Smolny Institute, as well as her brother-in-law Nikolai Nikolayevich. They were followed by Anna's husband in a car with a shaved, fat, ugly huge professor Speshnikov and with the local vice-governor von Seck. Later than the others, General Anosov arrived, in a good hired landau, accompanied by two officers: Staff Colonel Ponamarev, a prematurely old, thin, bilious man, exhausted by excessive clerical work, and Guards Hussar lieutenant Bakhtinsky, who was famous in St. Petersburg as the best dancer and incomparable manager of balls .
General Anosov, a fat, tall, silver old man, was heavily climbing down from the footboard, holding on to the railing of the goat with one hand, and with the other on the back of the carriage. In his left hand he held an auditory horn, and in his right a stick with a rubber tip. He had a large, rough, red face with a fleshy nose and that good-natured, majestic, slightly contemptuous expression in his narrowed eyes, arranged in radiant, swollen semicircles, which is characteristic of courageous and ordinary people who have seen danger and death often and close before their eyes. The two sisters, who had recognized him from afar, ran up to the carriage just in time to half-jokingly, half-seriously support him from both sides under the arms.
- Exactly... the bishop! - said the general in an affectionate hoarse bass.
- Grandpa, dear, dear! - Vera said in a tone of slight reproach. Every day we are waiting for you, but at least you showed your eyes.
Our grandfather in the south has lost all conscience, - Anna laughed. - One could, it seems, remember the goddaughter. And you keep yourself a Don Juan, shameless, and completely forgot about our existence ...
The general, baring his majestic head, kissed the hands of both sisters in turn, then kissed them on the cheeks and again on the hand.
"Girls... wait... don't scold me," he said, interspersing each word with sighs emanating from long-standing shortness of breath. ... jelly ... smells terrible ... And they didn’t let you out ... You are the first ... to whom you came ... Terribly glad ... to see you ... How are you jumping? .. You, Verochka .. ... quite a lady ... she became very similar ... to her dead mother ... When will you call for baptism?
- Oh, I'm afraid, grandfather, that never...
- Do not despair ... everything is ahead ... Pray to God ... And you, Anya, have not changed at all ... You and at sixty ... will be the same dragonfly-egoza. Wait a minute. Let me introduce you to the officers.
- I have had this honor for a long time! - said Colonel Ponamarev, bowing.
- I was introduced to the princess in St. Petersburg, - picked up the hussar.
- Well, I'll introduce you, Anya, Lieutenant Bakhtinsky. A dancer and a brawler, but a good cavalryman. Take it out, Bakhtinsky, my dear, out of the carriage... Let's go, girls... What, Verochka, will you feed? I have... after the estuary regime... an appetite, like a graduation... an ensign.
General Anosov was a comrade-in-arms and devoted friend of the late Prince Mirza-Bulat-Tuganovsky. After the death of the prince, he transferred all tender friendship and love to his daughters. He knew them when they were very young, and even baptized the younger Anna. At that time - as still - he was the commandant of a large, but almost abolished fortress in the city of K. and daily visited the Tuganovskys' house. Children simply adored him for pampering, for gifts, for lodges in the circus and theater, and for the fact that no one knew how to play with them so excitingly as Anosov. But most of all they were fascinated and most strongly imprinted in their memory by his stories about military campaigns, battles and bivouacs, about victories and retreats, about death, wounds and severe frosts - unhurried, epicly calm, simple-hearted stories told between evening tea and that boring hour when the children are called to bed.
According to modern customs, this piece of antiquity seemed to be a gigantic and unusually picturesque figure. He combined precisely those simple, but touching and profound features, which even in his time were much more common in privates than in officers, those purely Russian, muzhik features that, when combined, give an exalted image that sometimes made our soldier not only invincible , but also a great martyr, almost a saint - features that consisted of a simple, naive faith, a clear, good-natured and cheerful outlook on life, cold and businesslike courage, humility in the face of death, pity for the defeated, endless patience and amazing physical and moral endurance.
Anosov, starting from the Polish war, participated in all campaigns except the Japanese one. He would have gone to this war without hesitation, but he was not called, and he always had a great rule of modesty: "Do not climb to death until you are called." In all his service, he not only never flogged, but even hit a single soldier. During the Polish uprising, he once refused to shoot prisoners, despite the personal order of the regimental commander. "I'll not only shoot the spy," he said, "but if you order, I'll personally kill it. And these are prisoners, and I can't." And he said it so simply, respectfully, without a hint of challenge or showiness, looking directly into the eyes of the chief with his clear, hard eyes, that instead of being shot himself, they left him alone.
During the war of 1877-1879, he very quickly rose to the rank of colonel, despite the fact that he was little educated, or, as he himself put it, he graduated only from the “bear academy”. He participated in the crossing of the Danube, crossed the Balkans, sat out on Shipka, was at the last attack of Plevna; they wounded him once seriously, four lightly, and, in addition, he received a severe concussion in the head with a fragment of a grenade. Radetsky and Skobelev knew him personally and treated him with exceptional respect. It was about him that Skobelev once said: "I know one officer who is much braver than me - this is Major Anosov."
He returned from the war almost deaf due to a grenade fragment, with a sore leg, on which three fingers, frostbitten during the Balkan crossing, were amputated, with the most severe rheumatism acquired on Shipka. They wanted to retire him after two years of peaceful service, but Anosov became stubborn. Here he was very opportunely helped with his influence by the head of the region, a living witness of his cold-blooded courage when crossing the Danube. In St. Petersburg, they decided not to upset the honored colonel, and he was given a life-long post of commandant in the city of K. - a position more honorable than necessary for the purposes of national defense.
In the city, everyone knew him from young to old and good-naturedly laughed at his weaknesses, habits and manner of dressing. He always went about unarmed, in an old-fashioned frock coat, in a cap with large brim and with a huge straight visor, with a stick in right hand, with an auditory horn in the left and certainly accompanied by two obese, lazy, hoarse pugs, in which the tip of the tongue was always stuck out and bitten. If during his usual morning walk he had to meet with acquaintances, then passers-by for several blocks heard the commandant screaming and how his pugs barked in unison after him.
Like many deaf people, he was a passionate lover of opera, and sometimes, during some languid duet, suddenly his resolute bass was heard throughout the theater; "But he took it clean, damn it! It's like he cracked a nut." Restrained laughter swept through the theater, but the general did not even suspect this: in his naivety, he thought that he had exchanged fresh impressions with his neighbor in a whisper.
As a commandant, he quite often, together with his wheezing pugs, visited the main guardhouse, where the arrested officers rested quite comfortably over screw, tea and jokes from the hardships of military service. He carefully asked everyone: "What is the last name? By whom was he imprisoned? For how long? For what?" Sometimes, quite unexpectedly, he praised the officer for a brave, albeit illegal, act, sometimes he began to scold, shouting so that he could be heard on the street. But, having shouted his fill, without any transitions or pauses, he inquired where the officer was getting dinner from and how much he pays for it. It happened that some misguided second lieutenant, sent for a long term in prison from such a backwater, where there was not even a guardhouse of his own, admitted that, due to lack of money, he was content from a soldier's cauldron. Anosov immediately ordered that lunch be brought to the poor fellow from the commandant's house, from which the guardhouse was no more than two hundred steps away.
In the city of K., he became close to the Tuganovsky family and became attached to the children with such close ties that it became a spiritual need for him to see them every evening. If it happened that the young ladies went somewhere or the service delayed the general himself, then he sincerely yearned and could not find a place for himself in the large rooms of the commandant's house. Every summer he took a vacation and spent a whole month at the Tuganovsky estate, Yegorovsky, fifty miles away from K..
A few words about a countryman and a small homeland
I would like to start with the fact that I am from Penza, and Alexander Ivanovich Kuprin was born on August 26 (September 7), 1870 in the provincial town of Narovchat, Penza province. So we are countrymen with the famous writer. I have been to Narovchat many times. There is a house-museum of A.I. Kuprin, where the future writer was born, and the Intercession Cathedral, where he was baptized. Two of the most famous monasteries in the Penza region are located in the vicinity of Narovchat - the women's Trinity-Scan Monastery and the men's cave monastery, consecrated in honor of Anthony and Theodosius of the Kiev Caves. By the way, the length of the caves of this monastery is several times longer than the length of the caves of the Kiev-Pechersk Lavra. In general, Narovchat is a unique place, so I'll tell you a little about it.
You can see a fairly complete biography of Kuprin by clicking on this link , a biography in the form of a chronological table can be found, a biography set out quite freely and artistically can be found .
But about the small homeland of Kuprin, where his memory is highly honored, you are unlikely to find enough information on the Internet, especially information of an illustrative nature. I will fill this gap. I think this is quite appropriate also for the reason that the theme of Russia, which he lost, was leading for Kuprin during the years of emigration. So…
Description of the city of Narovchat 1868
As we remember, in the story of A.I. Kuprin's “Duel”, the main character was originally from Narovchat, in the same story a local proverb is given: “Narovchat - Narovchat, only pegs stick out”, which indicates the repeated burning of the city to the ground. The cited document of 1868 indicates that there are 13 stone houses and 537 wooden houses in Narovchat. There was something to burn.
Kuprin spent only the first three years of his life in Narovchat, but they gave this place their hero, so I offer you some fresh photos of A.I. Kuprin.
House-Museum of A.I. Kuprin
Intercession Cathedral, where A.I. Kuprin
The writer's birthday is traditionally widely celebrated in Narovchat, and within the framework of this holiday, a competition has been held for more than 10 years. "Garnet bracelet", whose literary nomination is usually devoted to works on the theme of love. By the way, I am the owner of the Grand Prix of this competition in 2010 (for the book Barakhta Bay).
I bring to your attention a few photographs taken at this holiday, before moving on to the analysis of the work that gave it its name.
Monument to A.I. Kuprin in Narovchat
Kuprin's holiday in 2010
Writers at the Kuprin celebration in 2010
So good memory of A.I. Kuprine lives on Penza land and brings very pleasant fruits.
Photo gallery
A.I. Kuprin - cadet; A.I. Kuprin - young officer
The Kuprins with their daughters Xenia and Zina, 1911
A.I. Kuprin in the last year of life
Grave of A.I. Kuprin at the Volkovsky cemetery in St. Petersburg
"Garnet bracelet"
Now let's turn to the story of A.I. Kuprin "Garnet Bracelet", written in 1910 and still very popular, considered an example of a work dedicated to the love theme.
Illustration by A. KupisevichIllustration by V. Yakubich
Please familiarize yourself with the text of the story or listen to it at audio format
To begin with, you should listen to the melody, which is the core of the story of the great, romantic, sacrificial love, which is extremely rare at all times. This melody is a symbol of Zheltkov's unrealizable love for Princess Vera.
Video sequence 1: Beethoven, "Appassionata"
Here are the words of General Anosov (who plays the role of a classicist reasoner in the story) regarding what this love is:“Where is the love? Love disinterested, selfless, not waiting for a reward? The one about which it is said - "strong as death"? You see, such love, for which to accomplish any feat, to give one's life, to go to torment, is not labor at all, but pure joy. Wait, wait, Vera, do you want me again about your Vasya? Really, I love him. He is a good guy. Who knows, maybe the future will show his love in the light of great beauty. But you understand what kind of love I'm talking about. Love must be a tragedy. The greatest secret in the world! No comforts of life, calculations and compromises should concern her.”.
Recall the plot of the story. The action begins at the dacha of the Shein princely family with the celebration of the name day of Vera Nikolaevna, the prince's wife. During the feast, the guests begin to play poker, and Prince Shein Vasily Lvovich entertains the guests with stories in which the truth is humorously distorted and brought to the point of absurdity. And among them there is a story about a telegraph operator P.P.Zh. when he died, he bequeathed to her two buttons and a vial of his tears. Here's how the story is presented in the movie:
Video fragment 2. Film "Garnet Bracelet".
In the middle of the celebration, the princess received a package from the maid, which contained a gift and a note from a fan with the initials G.S.Zh. The gift was a low-grade puffy gold bracelet adorned with blood-red garnets, and in the center of it was a rare green garnet. It was a gift from that very "love telegraph operator", which caused a rapid development of events that ended in Zheltkov's suicide and the princess's bitter thoughts over his fate.
Illustration by A. Aidieva
In a fairly free adaptation of the story (film "Garnet bracelet", 1964 ), which gapes with banknotes and bristles with inserts, for example, from Gambrinus, there are no stories of General Anosov about extraordinary love, cases of which he had seen, that are extremely important for understanding the author's position. Also not shown is the line of Anna, Vera's sister, which makes it possible to set off the happy marriage of Princess Sheina. Let's fill the banknotes.
Anna despises her husband, flirts with other men, but remains faithful to him, he idolizes her, does not leave her a single step and shows her ridiculous and tedious signs of attention. Anna is impulsive, religious, and the essence of her character is well expressed by a hair shirt under her neckline. Princess Vera is not like that: she is reserved, calm, loves her husband and cites their happy marriage to General Anosov as an example of family happiness, while Vasily Lvovich is sweet, handsome, rich, loves his wife and trusts her. Their marriage can be considered ideal, if compared even with Anna's marriage.
The stories told by General Anosov are much sadder than Anna's marriage. The first is the love of a young ensign for the depraved wife of a regimental commander: “In one regiment of our division (but not in ours) there was the wife of a regimental commander. Erysipelas, I'll tell you, Verochka, supernatural. Bony, red-haired, long, thin, with a big mouth... Plaster was falling off her like from an old Moscow house. But, you know, a sort of regimental Messalina: temperament, authority, contempt for people, a passion for diversity. Plus, I'm a morphine addict. And then one day, in the fall, they send to their regiment a newly made ensign, a completely yellow-mouthed sparrow, just from a military school. A month later, this old horse completely mastered him. He is a page, he is a servant, he is a slave, he is her eternal cavalier in dances, wears her fan and scarf, in one uniform he jumps out into the cold to call her horses. It’s a terrible thing when a fresh and clean boy puts his first love at the feet of an old, experienced and power-hungry harlot.. The result is sad - disability, and then the death of the ensign at the whim of this Messalina. If we compare this story with the story of Zheltkov and Princess Vera, then they are similar, with the only difference being that Vera is virtuous, and therefore does not indulge the illegal love of her admirer.
The second story echoes Anna's marriage just as clearly: “And the other case was quite pathetic. And the same woman was like the first, only young and beautiful. She behaved very, very badly. At what we easily looked at these home novels, but even we were jarred. And the husband is nothing. He knew everything, saw everything and was silent. Friends hinted at him, but he only waved his hands. "Leave it, leave it... It's none of my business, none of my business... Let Lenochka be happy!" "It's definitely the most legitimate kind of marriage. And then your regiment was sent to war. Our ladies saw us off, she saw us off, and, really, it was ashamed even to look at it: at least for decency, she looked at her husband once - no, she hanged herself on her lieutenant like the devil on a dry willow, and does not leave. At parting, when we had already boarded the carriages and the train started moving, so she, after her husband, shamelessly, shouted: “Remember, take care of Volodya! If anything happens to him, I will leave home and never come back. And I'll take the kids". After that, the husband, like a nanny, took care of his wife's lover during the hostilities, until he died of illness to the joy of everyone around him. If Anna did not have a hair shirt under her neckline, i.e. if she had not been faithful to her husband, he would certainly have behaved in the same way, since he adored her beyond all measure.
What is the problem? What kind of love is the idealist Anosov looking for if the outcome of those two cases is known and unattractive? Perhaps an honest marriage seems boring to him, since his wife ran away from him? Here's what he says about marriage: “But in most cases, why do people get married? Let's take a woman. It's a shame to stay in girls, especially when your friends are already married. It's hard to be an extra mouth in the family. The desire to be a mistress, the head of the house, a lady, independent ... In addition, a need, a direct physical need of motherhood, and to start making a nest. And the man has other motives. Firstly, fatigue from a single life, from disorder in the rooms, from tavern dinners, from dirt, cigarette butts, torn and scattered linen, from debts, from unceremonious comrades, and so on and so forth. Secondly, you feel that it is more profitable, healthier and more economical to live with a family. Thirdly, you think: when the kids come, I will die, but a part of me will still remain in the world ... something like an illusion of immortality. Fourth, the seduction of innocence, as in my case. In addition, there are sometimes thoughts about dowry. And where is the love?
Kuprin hints that Zheltkov's love for Princess Vera is the very case, and its outcome is absolutely logical. Zheltkov could only die, because he could not stop loving, just as Vera could not reciprocate, since she was virtuous and happy in marriage. Why does Anosov tempt Vera with the ideal love of this P.P.Zh.? Probably, in order to have a third story of high, leading to death, love, which could be told at leisure to interested listeners.
Here is the scene of Zheltkov's conversation with the princes Vasily Lvovich and Nikolai Lvovich Shein, who came to return him Garnet bracelet and explain.
Video fragment 3. Film "Garnet Bracelet".
The outcome of this scene is known: Zheltkov commits suicide, fulfilling the telephone request of Princess Vera to “finish this story as soon as possible” (by the way, in the film telephone conversation did not take place: Zheltkov only kept silent into the phone), as well as implementing the way out of the situation that he himself proposed in a conversation with the princes Sheins.
The problem is that Zheltkov's love religious, he deifies a person, but to Kuprin this passionate, unreasonable, painful, suicidal love seems lofty and worthy of chanting. Through the mouths of various characters, including Prince Shein, he claims that Zheltkov is not a maniac, that such love should be, that he is not to blame for his feelings. For Zheltkov, Princess Vera becomes the center of the universe. She replaces both God and the Mother of God: it is no coincidence that he bequeaths a garnet bracelet to be hung on the icon of Womb Bosca, it is no coincidence that in his suicide letter he addresses Princess Vera with a line from the prayer “Our Father” - in the same way as they turn only to God: “May the name be blessed Your!" Zheltkov commits the sin of suicide, which is not forgiven by the Church and does not give him the right to be reprimanded and buried in an Orthodox cemetery, does not give him the possibility of a posthumous commemoration... But for him there is no God but Princess Vera, and Princess Vera gave him a clear order over the phone to “finish this as soon as possible.” history." So he finished it, and even got the honor that the deity descended to his corpse, and even cried over his letter.
Illustration by V. Konopkin
Within the framework of Zheltkov's individual religion, his fate can be considered quite happy.
L. van Beethoven. 2 Son. (op. 2, no. 2).
Largo Appassionato.
I
In mid-August, before the birth of the new moon, the bad weather suddenly set in, which is so characteristic of the northern coast of the Black Sea. Sometimes for whole days a thick fog lay heavily over the land and the sea, and then the huge siren in the lighthouse roared day and night like a mad bull. Then from morning till morning it rained incessantly, fine as water dust, turning clay roads and paths into solid thick mud, in which wagons and carriages got bogged down for a long time. That blew from the northwest, from the side of the steppe, a ferocious hurricane; from it the tops of the trees swayed, bending down and straightening up, like waves in a storm, the iron roofs of the dachas rattled at night, and it seemed as if someone was running along them in shod boots; window frames trembled, doors slammed, and howled wildly in the chimneys. Several fishing boats got lost in the sea, and two did not return at all: only a week later the corpses of fishermen were thrown out in different places on the coast.
The inhabitants of the suburban seaside resort - mostly Greeks and Jews, cheerful and suspicious, like all southerners - hastily moved to the city. Cargo drogs stretched endlessly along the softened highway, overloaded with all sorts of household items: mattresses, sofas, chests, chairs, washstands, samovars. It was pitiful, and sad, and disgusting to look through the muddy muslin of rain at this miserable belongings, which seemed so worn out, dirty and beggarly; on the maids and cooks sitting on top of the wagon on a wet tarpaulin with some kind of irons, tins and baskets in their hands, on sweaty, exhausted horses, which now and then stopped, trembling at the knees, smoking and often carrying sides, on hoarsely cursing quails, wrapped up from the rain in mats. It was even sadder to see the abandoned dachas with their sudden spaciousness, emptiness and bareness, with mutilated flowerbeds, broken glass, abandoned dogs and all sorts of dacha rubbish from cigarette butts, pieces of paper, shards, boxes and apothecary's vials.
But by the beginning of September, the weather suddenly changed abruptly and quite unexpectedly. Quiet, cloudless days immediately set in, so clear, sunny and warm that there were none even in July. On the dry, compressed fields, on their prickly yellow bristles, autumn cobwebs shone with a mica sheen. The calmed trees silently and obediently dropped their yellow leaves.
Princess Vera Nikolaevna Sheina, the wife of the marshal of the nobility, could not leave the dachas, because the repairs in their city house had not yet been completed. And now she was very glad of the lovely days that had come, the silence, solitude, clean air, the chirping of the swallows on the telegraph wires that had strayed to fly away, and the gentle salty breeze that weakly pulled from the sea.
II
In addition, today was her name day - the seventeenth of September. According to sweet, distant memories of childhood, she always loved this day and always expected something happy and wonderful from him. Her husband, leaving in the morning on urgent business in the city, put a case with beautiful pear-shaped pearl earrings on her night table, and this gift amused her even more.
She was alone in the whole house. Her unmarried brother Nikolai, a fellow prosecutor, who usually lived with them, also went to the city, to the court. For dinner, the husband promised to bring a few and only the closest acquaintances. It turned out well that the name day coincided with summer time. In the city, one would have to spend money on a big ceremonial dinner, perhaps even on a ball, but here, in the country, one could manage with the smallest expenses. Prince Shein, despite his prominent position in society, and perhaps thanks to him, could barely make ends meet. The huge family estate was almost completely upset by his ancestors, and he had to live above his means: to make receptions, do charity, dress well, keep horses, etc. Princess Vera, whose former passionate love for her husband had long since passed into a strong, faithful feeling, true friendship, tried with all her might to help the prince refrain from complete ruin. She in many ways, imperceptibly for him, denied herself and, as far as possible, economized in the household.
Now she was walking in the garden and carefully cutting flowers for the dinner table with scissors. The flower beds were empty and looked disordered. Multi-colored terry carnations were blooming, as well as levka - half in flowers, and half in thin green pods that smelled of cabbage, rose bushes still gave - for the third time this summer - buds and roses, but already shredded, rare, as if degenerate. On the other hand, dahlias, peonies and asters bloomed magnificently with their cold, arrogant beauty, spreading an autumnal, grassy, sad smell in the sensitive air. The rest of the flowers, after their luxurious love and excessive abundant summer motherhood, quietly showered countless seeds of a future life on the ground.
Close by on the highway came the familiar sound of a three-ton car horn. It was the sister of Princess Vera, Anna Nikolaevna Friesse, who had promised in the morning to come by phone to help her sister receive guests and take care of the house.
Subtle hearing did not deceive Vera. She walked towards. A few minutes later a graceful carriage came to an abrupt halt at the dacha gate, and the driver, deftly jumping down from the seat, flung open the door.
The sisters kissed happily. From early childhood, they were attached to each other by a warm and caring friendship. In appearance, they were strangely not similar to each other. The eldest, Vera, took after her mother, a beautiful Englishwoman, with her tall, flexible figure, gentle, but cold and proud face, beautiful, although rather large hands, and that charming sloping of her shoulders, which can be seen in old miniatures. The youngest, Anna, on the contrary, inherited the Mongol blood of her father, a Tatar prince, whose grandfather was baptized only at the beginning of the 19th century and whose ancient family went back to Tamerlane, or Lang-Temir, as her father proudly called her, in Tatar, this great bloodsucker. She was half a head shorter than her sister, somewhat broad in the shoulders, lively and frivolous, a mocker. Her face was of a strongly Mongolian type, with rather noticeable cheekbones, with narrow eyes, which, moreover, she screwed up due to myopia, with an haughty expression in her small, sensual mouth, especially in her full lower lip slightly protruding forward - this face, however, captivated some then an elusive and incomprehensible charm, which consisted, perhaps, in a smile, perhaps in the deep femininity of all features, perhaps in a piquant, provocatively coquettish facial expression. Her graceful ugliness excited and attracted the attention of men much more often and stronger than her sister's aristocratic beauty.
She was married to a very rich and very stupid man who did absolutely nothing, but was registered with some charitable institution and had the title of chamber junker. She could not stand her husband, but she gave birth to two children from him - a boy and a girl; She decided not to have any more children, and never did. As for Vera, she greedily wanted children and even, it seemed to her, the more the better, but for some reason they were not born to her, and she painfully and ardently adored the pretty anemic children of her younger sister, always decent and obedient, with pale mealy faces and curled flaxen doll hair.
Anna consisted entirely of cheerful carelessness and sweet, sometimes strange contradictions. She willingly indulged in the most risky flirting in all the capitals and in all the resorts of Europe, but she never cheated on her husband, whom, however, she contemptuously ridiculed both in the eyes and behind the eyes; she was extravagant, terribly fond of gambling, dancing, strong impressions, sharp spectacles, visited dubious cafes abroad, but at the same time she was distinguished by generous kindness and deep, sincere piety, which forced her even to secretly accept Catholicism. She had a rare beauty back, chest and shoulders. Going to big balls, she was exposed much more than the limits allowed by decency and fashion, but it was said that under the low neckline she always wore a sackcloth.
Vera, on the other hand, was strictly simple, coldly and a little condescendingly kind to everyone, independent and royally calm.
III
- My God, how good it is here! How good! - Anna said, walking with quick and small steps next to her sister along the path. - If possible, let's sit a little on the bench above the cliff. I haven't seen the sea in such a long time. And what a wonderful air: you breathe - and your heart rejoices. In the Crimea, in Miskhor, last summer I made an amazing discovery. Do you know what sea water smells like during the surf? Imagine - mignonette.
Vera smiled softly.
- You are a dreamer.
- No no. I also remember the time everyone laughed at me when I said that there is some kind of pink tint in the moonlight. And the other day the artist Boritsky - that's the one who paints my portrait - agreed that I was right and that artists have long known about this.
– Is the artist your new hobby?
- You can always figure it out! - Anna laughed and, quickly going to the very edge of the cliff, which fell like a sheer wall deep into the sea, looked down and suddenly screamed in horror and recoiled back with a pale face.
- Oh, how high! she said in a weak and trembling voice. - When I look from such a height, I always have a somehow sweet and disgusting tickle in my chest ... and my toes ache ... And yet it pulls, pulls ...
She wanted to bend over the cliff again, but her sister stopped her.
- Anna, my dear, for God's sake! It makes my head spin when you do that. Please sit down.
- Well, well, well, sat down ... But just look, what beauty, what joy - just the eye can not get enough. If you knew how grateful I am to God for all the miracles that he has done for us!
Both thought for a moment. Deep, deep beneath them lay the sea. The shore was not visible from the bench, and therefore the feeling of infinity and grandeur of the expanse of the sea intensified even more. The water was tenderly calm and cheerfully blue, brightening only with oblique smooth stripes in the places of the current and turning into a deep deep blue color on the horizon.
Fishing boats, hardly marked by the eye - they seemed so small - dozed motionless in the sea surface, not far from the shore. And then, as if standing in the air, not moving forward, a three-masted vessel, all dressed from top to bottom with uniform white slender sails, bulging from the wind.
“I understand you,” the older sister said thoughtfully, “but somehow it’s not the same with me as it is with you. When I see the sea for the first time after a long time, it both excites me, and pleases, and amazes me. As if for the first time I see a huge, solemn miracle. But then, when I get used to it, it starts to crush me with its flat emptiness ... I miss looking at it, and I try not to look anymore. Bored.
Anna smiled.
- What are you? the sister asked.
“Last summer,” Anna said slyly, “we rode from Yalta in a big cavalcade on horseback to Uch-Kosh. It's there, behind the forestry, above the waterfall. First we got into the cloud, it was very damp and hard to see, and we all climbed up the steep path between the pines. And suddenly, somehow, the forest ended immediately, and we came out of the fog. Imagine: a narrow platform on a rock, and under our feet we have an abyss. The villages below seem no bigger than a matchbox, the forests and gardens look like fine grass. The whole area descends to the sea, like a geographical map. And then there is the sea! Fifty versts, a hundred ahead. It seemed to me that I hung in the air and was about to fly. Such beauty, such ease! I turn around and say to the guide in delight: “What? Okay, Seyid-ogly?” And he only smacked his tongue: “Oh, master, how tired all this mine is. We see every day."
- Thank you for the comparison, - Vera laughed, - no, I just think that we northerners will never understand the charms of the sea. I love the forest. Do you remember the forest we have in Yegorovsky?.. How can he ever get bored? Pine trees!.. And what mosses!.. And fly agarics! Accurately made of red satin and embroidered with white beads. The silence is so… cool.
“I don’t care, I love everything,” Anna answered. - And most of all I love my little sister, my prudent Verenka. There are only two of us in the world.
She hugged her older sister and snuggled up to her, cheek to cheek. And suddenly she caught on. - No, how stupid I am! You and I, as if in a novel, sit and talk about nature, but I completely forgot about my gift. Here look. I'm just afraid, will you like it?
She took out from her handbag a small notebook in a surprising binding: on the old, worn and gray with time blue velvet, a dull gold filigree pattern of rare complexity, subtlety and beauty curled - obviously, the love work of the hands of a skillful and patient artist. The book was attached to a gold chain as thin as a thread, the pages in the middle were replaced by ivory tablets.
- What a wonderful thing! Charm! Vera said and kissed her sister. - Thank you. Where did you get such a treasure?
- In an antique shop. You know my weakness for rummaging through old junk. So I came across this prayer book. Look, you see how the ornament here makes the figure of a cross. True, I found only one binding, I had to invent everything else - leaves, fasteners, a pencil. But Mollinet did not at all want to understand me, no matter how I interpreted him. The clasps had to be in the same style as the whole pattern, matte, old gold, fine carving, and God knows what he did. But the chain is real Venetian, very ancient.
Vera affectionately stroked the beautiful binding.
- What a deep antiquity! .. How long can this book be? she asked. - I'm afraid to be precise. Approximately the end of the seventeenth century, the middle of the eighteenth ...
“How strange,” Vera said with a thoughtful smile. - Here I am holding in my hands a thing that, perhaps, the hands of the Marquise Pompadour or Queen Antoinette herself touched ... But you know, Anna, it was only you who could come up with the crazy idea to convert a prayer book into a ladies' carnet. However, let's go and see what's going on there.
They entered the house through a large stone terrace, closed on all sides by thick trellises of Isabella grapes. Plentiful black clusters, emitting a faint smell of strawberries, hung heavily between the dark, in some places gilded by the sun greenery. A green half-light spread over the entire terrace, from which the faces of the women immediately turned pale.
- You order to cover here? Anna asked.
– Yes, I myself thought so at first… But now the evenings are so cold. It's better in the dining room. And let the men go here to smoke.
Will anyone be interesting?
- I do not know yet. I only know that our grandfather will be.
- Oh, dear grandfather. Here is joy! Anna exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “I don't think I've seen him for a hundred years.
- There will be Vasya's sister and, it seems, Professor Speshnikov. Yesterday, Annenka, I just lost my head. You know that they both love to eat - both the grandfather and the professor. But neither here, nor in the city - you can't get anything for any money. Luka found quails somewhere - he ordered a familiar hunter - and something is playing tricks on them. The roast beef came out relatively good - alas! - the inevitable roast beef. Very good crabs.
“Well, not so bad. You don't worry. However, between us, you yourself have a weakness for delicious food.
But there will be something rare. This morning the fisherman brought a gurnard. I saw it myself. Just some kind of monster. Even scary.
Anna, greedily curious about everything that concerned her and that did not concern her, immediately demanded that they bring her a gurnard.
The tall, clean-shaven, yellow-faced cook Luka came in with a large, oblong white tub, which he held with difficulty by the ears, afraid to splash water on the parquet.
"Twelve and a half pounds, Your Excellency," he said with a peculiar chef's pride. - We've been weighing.
The fish was too big for the pelvis and lay on the bottom with its tail curled up. Its scales shone with gold, the fins were bright red, and from the huge predatory muzzle two pale blue, folded, like a fan, long wings went to the sides. The gurnard was still alive and worked hard with its gills.
The younger sister gently touched the head of the fish with her little finger. But the rooster suddenly flapped its tail, and Anna with a squeal pulled her hand away.
“Don’t worry, Your Excellency, we’ll arrange everything in the best possible way,” said the cook, who obviously understood Anna’s anxiety. - Now the Bulgarian brought two melons. Pineapple. Kind of like cantaloupe, but the smell is much more fragrant. And I also dare to ask Your Excellency, what sauce would you like to serve with a rooster: tartar or Polish, otherwise you can just crackers in butter?
- Do as you please. Go! - ordered the princess.
A sad love story is the basis of the story "Garnet Bracelet". Real, selfless, true love is a deep and sincere feeling, the main theme of the story of the great writer.
The history of the creation of the story "Garnet Bracelet"
His new story, which the famous writer Kuprin conceived as a story, Alexander Ivanovich began writing in the fall of 1910 in the Ukrainian city of Odessa. He thought that he could write it in a few days, and even reports this in one of his letters to a friend, literary critic Klestov. He wrote to him that he would soon send his new manuscript to a publisher he knew. But the writer was wrong.
The story came out of the plot, and therefore took the writer not a few days, as he had planned, but several months. It is also known that the work is based on a story that actually happened. This is what Alexander Ivanovich reports in a letter to the philologist and friend Fyodor Batyushkov, when, describing to him how the work on the manuscript is going, they remind him of the very history that formed the basis of the work:
“Do you remember this? - the sad story of the little telegraph official P.P. Zheltikov, who was so hopelessly, touchingly and selflessly in love with Lyubimov's wife (D.N. is now the governor in Vilna).
He admitted in a letter to his friend Batyushkov, dated November 21, 1910, that work on a new work was going hard. He wrote:
“Now I'm writing "Bracelet", but it's bad. The main reason is my ignorance in music... Yes, and secular tone!”.
It is known that in December the manuscript was not yet ready, but work on it was intensively going on, and in one of the letters Kuprin himself evaluates his manuscript, saying that it turns out to be a rather “cute” thing that you don’t even want to crumple .
The manuscript saw the light in 1911, when it was published in the magazine "Earth". At that time, it also contained a dedication to Kuprin's friend, the writer Klestov, who took an active part in its creation. The story "The Garnet Bracelet" also had an epigraph - the first musical line from one of Beethoven's sonnets.
The plot of the story
The composition of the story consists of thirteen chapters. At the beginning of the story, it tells about how difficult it was for Princess Vera Nikolaevna Shein. Indeed, at the beginning of autumn, she still lived in the country, while all the neighbors had long since moved to the city due to bad weather. The young woman could not do this, as repairs were underway in her city house. But soon the weather calmed down, and even the sun came out. With warmth, the mood of the main character also improved.
In the second chapter, the reader learns that the princess's birthday had to be celebrated with splendor, because this was required by the position of her husband. A celebration was scheduled for September 17, which was clearly beyond the means of the family. The thing is that her husband had already gone broke for a long time, but still did not show it to others, although this affected the family: Vera Nikolaevna not only could not afford too much, she even saved on everything. On this day, her sister, with whom the princess was on good terms, came to help the young woman. Anna Nikolaevna Friesse was not at all like her sister, but the relatives were very attached to each other.
In the third chapter, the writer tells about the meeting of the sisters and about a walk by the sea, where Anna gave her sister her valuable gift - a notebook with an old cover. The fourth chapter will take the reader to that evening when guests began to arrive at the celebration. Among the other guests was General Anosov, who was a friend of the girls' father and knew the sisters from childhood. The girls called him grandfather, but they did it nicely and with great respect and love.
The fifth chapter tells about how fun the evening was at the Sheins' house. Prince Vasily Shein, Vera's husband, constantly told stories that happened to his relatives and friends, but he did it so cleverly that the guests no longer even understood where the truth was and where the fiction was. Vera Nikolaevna was about to give the order to serve tea, but, counting the guests, she became very frightened. The princess was a superstitious woman, and there were thirteen guests at the table.
Going out to the maid, she learned that the messenger brought a gift and a note. Vera Nikolaevna began with a note and immediately, from the first lines, realized that it was from her secret admirer. But she became a little uneasy. The woman also looked at the bracelet, it was beautiful! But the princess was faced with the important question of whether to show this gift to her husband.
The sixth chapter is the story of the princess with the telegraph operator. Vera's husband showed his album with funny pictures, and one of them is the story of his wife and a petty official. But it had not yet been completed, so Prince Vasily began to simply tell it, not paying attention to the fact that his wife was against it.
In the seventh chapter, the princess says goodbye to the guests: some of them went home, and the other settled on summer terrace. Seizing a moment, the young woman shows a letter from her secret admirer to her husband.
General Anosov, leaving in the eighth chapter, listens to the story of Vera Nikolaevna about the letters that the secret sender has been writing for a long time, and then informs the woman that true love is quite rare, but she is lucky. After all, this "madman" loves her with selfless love, which every woman can dream of.
In the ninth chapter, the husband of the princess and her brother discuss the case with the bracelet and come to the conclusion that this story has not only dragged on, but may also adversely affect the family's reputation. Before going to bed, they decide tomorrow to find this secret admirer of Vera Nikolaevna, return the bracelet to him and put an end to this story forever.
In the tenth chapter, Prince Vasily and the girl's brother Nikolai find Zheltkov and ask him to put an end to this story forever. The husband of Vera Nikolaevna felt the tragedy of his soul in this man, so he allows me to write the last letter to his wife. After reading this message, the princess immediately realized that this person would definitely do something with himself, for example, kill himself.
In the eleventh chapter, the princess learns about Zheltkov's death and reads his last letter, where she remembers the following lines: “I tested myself - this is not a disease, not a manic idea - this is love that God was pleased to reward me for something. As I leave, I say in delight: “Hallowed be thy name.” The princess decides to go to his funeral and see this man. The husband doesn't mind.
The twelfth and thirteenth chapters are a visit to the deceased Zheltkov, reading his last message and the woman's disappointment that true love has passed her by.
Characteristics of the actors
There are few characters in the story. But it is worth dwelling in more detail on the main characters:
Vera Nikolaevna Sheina.
Mr Zheltkov.
The main character of the story is Vera Nikolaevna Sheina. She comes from an old noble family. Vera is liked by everyone around her, as she is very beautiful and sweet: a gentle face, an aristocratic figure. She has been married for six years. The husband occupies an important place in secular society, although he has material problems. Vera Nikolaevna has a good education. She also has a brother, Nikolai, and a sister, Anna. She lives with her husband somewhere on the Black Sea coast. Despite the fact that Vera is a superstitious woman and does not read newspapers at all, she loves gambling.
Another main and important hero of the story is Mr. Zheltkov. A thin and tall man with nervous fingers was a poor man. He looked to be about thirty-five. He is in the service of the control chamber, but the position is low - a petty official. Kuprin characterizes him as a modest, well-mannered and noble person. Kuprin copied this image from a real person. The prototype of the protagonist was a petty telegraph official Zheltikov P.P.
There are other characters in this story:
✔ Anna.
✔ Nicholas
✔ The husband of the main character, Vasily Shein.
✔ General Anosov.
✔ Others.
Each of the characters played a role in the content of the story.
Details in the novel
In the story "Garnet Bracelet" there are many important details, which allow you to more deeply reveal the content of the work. But especially among all these details, the garnet bracelet stands out. According to the plot, the main character Vera receives it as a gift from a secret admirer. But beforehand, Zheltkov, who is the secret admirer, puts it in a bright red case.
Kuprin gives detailed description bracelet, forcing one to admire its beauty and sophistication: “It was gold, base, very thick, but puffy and on the outside it was completely covered with small old, poorly polished garnets.” But special attention is drawn to the further description of the precious bracelet: “In the middle of the bracelet, surrounded by some strange little green pebble, five beautiful cabochon garnets, each the size of a pea, rose.”
The writer also tells about the history of this bracelet, thus emphasizing how important it was for the petty official Zheltkov. The writer writes that this expensive piece of jewelry belonged to the protagonist's great-grandmother, and the last person to wear it was his late mother, whom he loved very much and kept the warmest memories of her. The green garnet in the middle of the bracelet, according to a petty official, had its own old legend, which was passed down in the Zheltkov family from generation to generation. According to this legend, a person is freed from heavy thoughts, a woman is also rewarded with the gift of providence, and a man will be protected from any violent death.
Criticism about the story "Garnet Bracelet"
Writers highly appreciated the skill of Kuprin.
The first review of the work was given by Maxim Gorky in one of his letters in 1911. He was delighted with this story and constantly repeated that it was wonderfully written and that good literature was finally beginning. Reading the "Garnet Bracelet" for the famous revolutionary writer Maxim Gorky was a real holiday. He wrote:
"And what an excellent thing" Garnet Bracelet "Kuprin ... Wonderful!".
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