Read the Bronze Horseman excerpt. Alexander Pushkin, poem “The Bronze Horseman. What life circumstances prompted Alexander Sergeevich to write this work?

],
Stand with a firm foot by the sea.
Here on new waves
All the flags will visit us,
And we’ll record it in the open air.

A hundred years have passed, and the young city,
There is beauty and wonder in full countries,
From the darkness of the forests, from the swamps of blat
He ascended magnificently and proudly;
Where was the Finnish fisherman before?
Nature's sad stepson
Alone on the low banks
Thrown into unknown waters
Your old net, now there
Along busy shores
Slender communities crowd together
Palaces and towers; ships
A crowd from all over the world
They strive for rich marinas;
The Neva is dressed in granite;
Bridges hung over the waters;
Dark green gardens
Islands covered her,
And in front of the younger capital
Old Moscow has faded,
Like before a new queen
Porphyry widow.

I love you, Petra's creation,
I love your strict, slender appearance,
Neva sovereign current,
Its coastal granite,
Your fences have a cast iron pattern,
of your thoughtful nights
Transparent twilight, moonless shine,
When I'm in my room
I write, I read without a lamp,
And the sleeping communities are clear
Deserted streets and light
Admiralty needle,
And, not letting the darkness of the night
To golden skies
One dawn gives way to another
He hurries, giving the night half an hour.
I love your cruel winter
Still air and frost,
Sleigh running along the wide Neva,
Girls' faces are brighter than roses,
And the shine, and the noise, and the talk of balls,
And at the time of the feast the bachelor
The hiss of foamy glasses
And the punch flame is blue.
I love the warlike liveliness
Amusing Fields of Mars,
Infantry troops and horses
Uniform beauty
In their harmoniously unsteady system
The shreds of these victorious banners,
The shine of these copper caps,
Shot through and through in battle.
I love you, military capital,
Your stronghold is smoke and thunder,
When the queen is full
Gives a son to the royal house,
Or victory over the enemy
Russia triumphs again
Or, breaking your blue ice,
The Neva carries him to the seas
And, sensing the days of spring, he rejoices.

Show off, city Petrov, and stand
Unshakable, like Russia,
May he make peace with you
And the defeated element;
Enmity and ancient captivity
Let the Finnish waves forget
And they will not be vain malice
Disturb Peter's eternal sleep!

It was a terrible time
The memory of her is fresh...
About her, my friends, for you
I'll start my story.
My story will be sad.

Around the foot of the idol
The poor madman walked around
And brought wild glances
The face of the ruler of half the world.
His chest felt tight. Chelo
It lay down on the cold grate,
My eyes became foggy,
A fire ran through my heart,
Blood boiled. He became gloomy
Before the proud idol
And, clenching my teeth, clenching my fingers,
As if possessed by black power,
“Welcome, miraculous builder! –
He whispered, trembling angrily, -
Already for you!..” And suddenly headlong
He started to run. It seemed
He is like a formidable king,
Instantly ignited with anger,
The face quietly turned...
And its area is empty
He runs and hears behind him -
Like thunder roaring -
Heavy ringing galloping
Along the shaken pavement.
And, illuminated by the pale moon,
Stretching out your hand on high,
The Bronze Horseman rushes after him
On a loud galloping horse;
And all night long the poor madman
Wherever you turn your feet,
Behind him is the Bronze Horseman everywhere
He galloped with a heavy stomp.

"Poem The Bronze Horseman"

The incident described in this story
based on truth. Details
floods are borrowed from the then
magazines. The curious can handle it
with news compiled by V.N. Berkh.

On the shore of desert waves
He stood there, full of great thoughts,
And he looked into the distance. Wide before him
The river rushed; poor boat
He strove along it alone.
Along mossy, marshy banks
Blackened huts here and there,
Shelter of a wretched Chukhonian;
And the forest, unknown to the rays
In the fog of the hidden sun,
There was noise all around.

And he thought:
From here we will threaten the Swede,
The city will be founded here
To spite an arrogant neighbor.
Nature destined us here
Open a window to Europe,
Stand with a firm foot by the sea.
Here on new waves
All the flags will visit us,
And we’ll record it in the open air.

I love you, Petra's creation,
I love your strict, slender appearance,
Neva sovereign current,
Its coastal granite,
Your fences have a cast iron pattern,
of your thoughtful nights
Transparent twilight, moonless shine,
When I'm in my room
I write, I read without a lamp,
And the sleeping communities are clear
Deserted streets and light
Admiralty needle,
And, not letting the darkness of the night
To golden skies
One dawn gives way to another
He hurries, giving the night half an hour.
I love your cruel winter
Still air and frost,
Sleigh running along the wide Neva,
Girls' faces are brighter than roses,
And the shine, and the noise, and the talk of balls,
And at the time of the feast the bachelor
The hiss of foamy glasses
And the punch flame is blue.
I love the warlike liveliness
Amusing Fields of Mars,
Infantry troops and horses
Uniform beauty
In their harmoniously unsteady system
The shreds of these victorious banners,
The shine of these copper caps,
Through those shot through in battle.
I love you, military capital,
Your stronghold is smoke and thunder,
When the queen is full
Gives a son to the royal house,
Or victory over the enemy
Russia triumphs again
Or, breaking your blue ice,
The Neva carries him to the seas
And, sensing the days of spring, he rejoices.

Show off, city Petrov, and stand
Unshakable like Russia,
May he make peace with you
And the defeated element;
Enmity and ancient captivity
Let the Finnish waves forget
And they will not be vain malice
Disturb Peter's eternal sleep!

It was a terrible time
The memory of her is fresh...
About her, my friends, for you
I'll start my story.
My story will be sad.

Part one

Over darkened Petrograd
November breathed the autumn chill.
Splashing with a noisy wave
To the edges of your slender fence,
Neva was tossing around like a sick person
Restless in my bed.
It was already late and dark;
The rain beat angrily on the window,
And the wind blew, howling sadly.
At that time from the guests home
Young Evgeniy came...
We will be our hero
Call by this name. It
Sounds nice; been with him for a long time
My pen is also friendly.
We don't need his nickname,
Although in times gone by
Perhaps it shone
And under the pen of Karamzin
In native legends it sounded;
But now with light and rumor
It's forgotten. Our hero
Lives in Kolomna; serves somewhere
He shies away from the nobles and does not bother
Not about deceased relatives,
Not about forgotten antiquities.

So, I came home, Evgeniy
He shook off his overcoat, undressed, and lay down.
But for a long time he could not fall asleep
In the excitement of various thoughts.
What was he thinking about? about
That he was poor, that he worked hard
He had to deliver to himself
And independence and honor;
What could God add to him?
Mind and money. What is it?
Such idle lucky ones,
Narrow-minded, sloths,
For whom life is much easier!
That he serves only two years;
He also thought that the weather
She didn’t let up; that the river
Everything was coming; which is hardly
The bridges have not been removed from the Neva
And what will happen to Parasha?
Separated for two or three days.
Evgeny sighed heartily here
And he daydreamed like a poet:

"Marry? To me? why not?
It’s hard, of course;
But well I'm young and healthy
Ready to work day and night;
I’ll arrange something for myself
Shelter humble and simple
And in it I will calm Parasha.
Perhaps a year or two will pass -
I’ll get a place, Parashe
I will entrust our family
And raising children...
And we will live, and so on until the grave
We'll both get there hand in hand
And our grandchildren will bury us...”

That's what he dreamed. And it was sad
Him that night, and he wished
So that the wind howls less sadly
And let the rain knock on the window
Not so angry...
Sleepy eyes
He finally closed. And so
The darkness of a stormy night is thinning
And the pale day is coming...
Terrible day!
Neva all night
Longing for the sea against the storm,
Without overcoming their violent foolishness...
And she couldn’t bear to argue...
In the morning over its banks
There were crowds of people crowded together,
Admiring the splashes, mountains
And the foam of angry waters.
But the strength of the winds from the bay
Blocked Neva
She walked back, angry, seething,
And flooded the islands
The weather became more ferocious
The Neva swelled and roared,
A cauldron bubbling and swirling,
And suddenly, like a wild beast,
She rushed towards the city. In front of her
Everything ran, everything around
Suddenly it was empty - suddenly there was water
Flowed into underground cellars,
Channels poured into the gratings,
And Petropol emerged like a newt,
Waist-deep in water.

Siege! attack! evil waves,
Like thieves, they climb into windows. Chelny
From the run the windows are smashed by the stern.
Trays under a wet veil,
Wrecks of huts, logs, roofs,
Stock trade goods,
The belongings of pale poverty,
Bridges demolished by thunderstorms,
Coffins from a washed-out cemetery
Floating through the streets!
People
He sees God's wrath and awaits execution.
Alas! everything perishes: shelter and food!
Where will I get it?
In that terrible year
The late Tsar was still in Russia
He ruled with glory. To the balcony
Sad, confused, he went out
And he said: “With God's element
Kings cannot control.” He sat down
And in the Duma with sorrowful eyes
I looked at the evil disaster.
There were hundreds of lakes,
And in them there are wide rivers
The streets poured in. Castle
It seemed like a sad island.
The king said - from end to end,
Along nearby streets and distant ones
On a dangerous journey through stormy waters
The generals set off
To save and overcome with fear
And there are drowning people at home.

Then, on Petrova Square,
Where a new house has risen in the corner,
Where above the elevated porch
With a raised paw, as if alive,
There are two guard lions standing,
Riding a marble beast,
Without a hat, hands clasped in a cross,
Sat motionless, terribly pale
Evgeny. He was afraid, poor thing,
Not for myself. He didn't hear
How the greedy shaft rose,
Washing his soles,
How the rain hit his face,
Like the wind, howling violently,
He suddenly tore off his hat.
His desperate looks
Pointed at one edge
They were motionless. Like mountains
From the indignant depths
The waves rose there and got angry,
There the storm howled, there they rushed
Debris... God, God! there -
Alas! close to the waves,
Almost at the very bay -
The fence is unpainted, but the willow
And a dilapidated house: there it is,
Widow and daughter, his Parasha,
His dream... Or in a dream
Does he see this? or all ours
And life is nothing like an empty dream,
The mockery of heaven over earth?

And he seems to be bewitched
As if chained to marble,
Can't get off! Around him
Water and nothing else!
And with my back turned to him,
In the unshakable heights,
Above the indignant Neva
Stands with outstretched hand
Idol on a bronze horse.

Part two

But now, having had enough of destruction
And tired of insolent violence,
The Neva was drawn back,
Admiring your indignation
And leaving with carelessness
Your prey. So villain
With his fierce gang
Having burst into the village, he breaks, cuts,
Destroys and robs; screams, gnashing,
Violence, swearing, anxiety, howling!..
And, burdened with robbery,
Afraid of the chase, tired,
The robbers are hurrying home,
Dropping prey on the way.

The water has subsided and the pavement
It opened, and Evgeny is mine
He hurries, his soul sinking,
In hope, fear and longing
To the barely subdued river.
But victories are full of triumph,
The waves were still boiling angrily,
As if a fire was smoldering under them,
The foam still covered them,
And Neva was breathing heavily,
Like a horse running back from battle.
Evgeny looks: he sees a boat;
He runs to her as if he were a find;
He calls the carrier -
And the carrier is carefree
Willingly pay him for a dime
Through terrible waves you are lucky.

And long with stormy waves
An experienced rower fought
And hide deep between their rows
Every hour with daring swimmers
The boat was ready - and finally
He reached the shore.
Unhappy
Runs down a familiar street
To familiar places. Looks
Can't find out. The view is terrible!
Everything is piled up in front of him;
What has been dropped, what has been demolished;
The houses were crooked, others
Completely collapsed, others
Shifted by waves; all around
As if in a battlefield,
Bodies are lying around. Evgeniy
Headlong, not remembering anything,
Exhausted from torment,
Runs to where he is waiting
Fate with unknown news,
Like with a sealed letter.
And now he’s running through the suburbs,
And here is the bay, and home is close...
What is this?..
He stopped.
I went back and came back.
He looks... he walks... he still looks.
This is the place where their house stands;
Here is the willow. There was a gate here -
Apparently they were blown away. Where is home?
And, full of gloomy care,
He keeps walking, he walks around,
Talks loudly to himself -
And suddenly, hitting him on the forehead with his hand,
I started laughing.
Night haze
She descended upon the city in trepidation;
But the residents did not sleep for a long time
And they talked among themselves
About the day gone by.
Morning ray
Because of the tired, pale clouds
Flashed over the quiet capital
And I haven’t found any traces
Yesterday's troubles; purple
The evil was already covered up.
Everything returned to the same order.
The streets are already free
With your cold insensibility
People were walking. Official people
Leaving my night shelter,
I went to work. Brave trader,
Not discouraged, I opened
Neva robbed basement,
Collecting your loss is important
Place it on the nearest one. From the yards
They brought boats.
Count Khvostov,
Poet beloved by heaven
Already sang in immortal verses
The misfortune of the Neva banks.

But my poor, poor Evgeniy...
Alas! his confused mind
Against terrible shocks
I couldn't resist. Rebellious noise
The Neva and the winds were heard
In his ears. Terrible thoughts
Silently full, he wandered.
He was tormented by some kind of dream.
A week passed, a month - he
He did not return to his home.
His deserted corner
I rented it out when the deadline passed,
The owner of the poor poet.
Evgeny for his goods
Didn't come. He'll be out soon
Became alien. I wandered on foot all day,
And he slept on the pier; ate
A piece served into the window.
His clothes are shabby
It tore and smoldered. Angry children
They threw stones after him.
Often coachman's whips
He was whipped because
That he didn't understand the roads
Never again; it seemed he
Didn't notice. He's stunned
Was the noise of internal anxiety.
And so he is his unhappy age
Dragged, neither beast nor man,
Neither this nor that, nor the inhabitant of the world,
Not a dead ghost...
Once he was sleeping
At the Neva pier. Days of summer
We were approaching autumn. Breathed
Stormy wind. Grim Shaft
Splashed on the pier, grumbling fines
And hitting the smooth steps,
Like a petitioner at the door
Judges who don't listen to him.
The poor man woke up. It was gloomy:
The rain fell, the wind howled sadly,
And with him far away, in the darkness of the night
The sentry called back...
Evgeny jumped up; remembered vividly
He is a past horror; hastily
He stood up; went wandering, and suddenly
Stopped - and around
He quietly began to move his eyes
With wild fear on your face.
He found himself under the pillars
Big house. On the porch
With a raised paw, as if alive,
The lions stood guard,
And right in the dark heights
Above the fenced rock
Idol with outstretched hand
Sat on a bronze horse.

Evgeny shuddered. cleared up
The thoughts in it are scary. He found out
And the place where the flood played,
Where the waves of predators crowded,
Rioting angrily around him,
And lions, and the square, and that,
Who stood motionless
In the darkness with a copper head,
The one whose will is fatal
A city was founded under the sea...
He is terrible in the surrounding darkness!
What a thought on the brow!
What power is hidden in it!
And what fire there is in this horse!
Where are you galloping, proud horse?
And where will you put your hooves?
O mighty lord of fate!
Aren't you above the abyss?
At the height, with an iron bridle
Raised Russia on its hind legs?

Around the foot of the idol
The poor madman walked around
And brought wild glances
The face of the ruler of half the world.
His chest felt tight. Chelo
It lay down on the cold grate,
My eyes became foggy,
A fire ran through my heart,
Blood boiled. He became gloomy
Before the proud idol
And, clenching my teeth, clenching my fingers,
As if possessed by black power,
“Welcome, miraculous builder! -
He whispered, trembling angrily, -
Already for you!..” And suddenly headlong
He started to run. It seemed
He is like a formidable king,
Instantly ignited with anger,
The face quietly turned...
And its area is empty
He runs and hears behind him -
It's like thunder roaring -
Heavy ringing galloping
Along the shaken pavement.
And, illuminated by the pale moon,
Stretching out your hand on high,
The Bronze Horseman rushes after him
On a loud galloping horse;
And all night long the poor madman,
Wherever you turn your feet,
Behind him is the Bronze Horseman everywhere
He galloped with a heavy stomp.

And from the time when it happened
He should go to that square,
His face showed
Confusion. To your heart
He hastily pressed his hand,
As if subduing him with torment,
A worn out cap,
Didn’t raise embarrassed eyes
And he walked aside.
Small Island
Visible at the seaside. Sometimes
Lands there with a seine
Late fisherman fishing
And the poor man cooks his dinner,
Or an official will visit,
Walking in a boat on Sunday
Deserted island. Not an adult
There's not a blade of grass there. Flood
Brought there while playing
The house is dilapidated. Above the water
He remained like a black bush.
His last spring
They brought me on a barge. It was empty
And everything is destroyed. At the threshold
They found my madman,
And then his cold corpse
Buried for God's sake.

Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin

THE BRONZE HORSEMAN

Preface

Petersburg story

The incident described in this story is based on truth. Details of the flood are taken from magazines of the time. The curious can consult the news compiled by V. N. Berkh.

Introduction

On the shore of desert waves

stood He, full of great thoughts,

And he looked into the distance. Wide before him

The river rushed; poor boat

He strove along it alone.

Along mossy, marshy banks

Blackened huts here and there,

Shelter of a wretched Chukhonian;

And the forest, unknown to the rays

In the fog of the hidden sun,

There was noise all around.

And he thought:

From here we will threaten the Swede,

The city will be founded here

To spite an arrogant neighbor.

Nature destined us here

Stand with a firm foot by the sea.

Here on new waves

All the flags will visit us,

And we’ll record it in the open air.

A hundred years have passed, and the young city,

There is beauty and wonder in full countries,

From the darkness of the forests, from the swamps of blat

He ascended magnificently and proudly;

Where was the Finnish fisherman before?

Nature's sad stepson

Alone on the low banks

Thrown into unknown waters

Your old net is now there,

Along busy shores

Slender communities crowd together

Palaces and towers; ships

A crowd from all over the world

They strive for rich marinas;

The Neva is dressed in granite;

Bridges hung over the waters;

Dark green gardens

Islands covered her,

And in front of the younger capital

Old Moscow has faded,

Like before a new queen

Porphyry widow.

I love you, Petra's creation,

I love your strict, slender appearance,

Neva sovereign current,

Its coastal granite,

Your fences have a cast iron pattern,

of your thoughtful nights

Transparent twilight, moonless shine,

When I'm in my room

I write, I read without a lamp,

And the sleeping communities are clear

Deserted streets and light

Admiralty needle,

And, not letting the darkness of the night

To golden skies

One dawn gives way to another

He hurries, giving the night half an hour.

I love your cruel winter

Still air and frost,

Sleigh running along the wide Neva,

Girls' faces are brighter than roses,

And the shine, and the noise, and the talk of balls,

And at the time of the feast the bachelor

The hiss of foamy glasses

And the punch flame is blue.

I love the warlike liveliness

Amusing Fields of Mars,

Infantry troops and horses

Uniform beauty

In their harmoniously unsteady system

The shreds of these victorious banners,

The shine of these copper caps,

Through those shot through in battle.

I love you, military capital,

Your stronghold is smoke and thunder,

When the queen is full

Gives a son to the royal house,

Or victory over the enemy

Russia triumphs again

Or, breaking your blue ice,

The Neva carries him to the seas

And, sensing the days of spring, he rejoices.

Show off, city Petrov, and stand

Unshakable like Russia,

May he make peace with you

And the defeated element;

Enmity and ancient captivity

Let the Finnish waves forget

And they will not be vain malice

Disturb Peter's eternal sleep!

It was a terrible time

The memory of her is fresh...

About her, my friends, for you

I'll start my story.

My story will be sad.

Part one

Over darkened Petrograd

November breathed the autumn chill.

Splashing with a noisy wave

To the edges of your slender fence,

Neva was tossing around like a sick person

Restless in my bed.

It was already late and dark;

The rain beat angrily on the window,

And the wind blew, howling sadly.

At that time from the guests home

Young Evgeniy came...

We will be our hero

Call by this name. It

Sounds nice; been with him for a long time

My pen is also friendly.

We don't need his nickname,

Although in times gone by

Perhaps it shone

And under the pen of Karamzin

In native legends it sounded;

But now with light and rumor

It's forgotten. Our hero

Lives in Kolomna; serves somewhere

He shies away from the nobles and does not bother

Not about deceased relatives,

Not about forgotten antiquities.

So, I came home, Evgeniy

He shook off his overcoat, undressed, and lay down.

But for a long time he could not fall asleep

In the excitement of various thoughts.

What was he thinking about? about

That he was poor, that he worked hard

He had to deliver to himself

And independence and honor;

What could God add to him?

Mind and money. What is it?

Such idle lucky ones,

Narrow-minded, sloths,

For whom life is much easier!

That he serves only two years;

He also thought that the weather

She didn’t let up; that the river

Everything was coming; which is hardly

The bridges have not been removed from the Neva

And what will happen to Parasha?

Separated for two or three days.

Evgeny sighed heartily here

And he daydreamed like a poet:

Marry? Well... why not?

It’s hard, of course;

But well, he's young and healthy,

Ready to work day and night;

He'll arrange something for himself

Shelter humble and simple

And it will calm Parasha.

“Perhaps a year or two will pass -

I’ll get a place, - Parashe

I will entrust our farm

And raising children...

And we will live, and so on until the grave

We'll both get there hand in hand

And our grandchildren will bury us..."

That's what he dreamed. And it was sad

Him that night, and he wished

So that the wind howls less sadly

And let the rain knock on the window

Not so angry...

Sleepy eyes

He finally closed. And so

The darkness of a stormy night is thinning

Terrible day!

Neva all night

Longing for the sea against the storm,

Without overcoming their violent foolishness...

And she couldn’t bear to argue...

In the morning over its banks

There were crowds of people crowded together,

Admiring the splashes, mountains

And the foam of angry waters.

But the strength of the winds from the bay

Blocked Neva

She walked back, angry, seething,

And flooded the islands

The weather became more ferocious

The Neva swelled and roared,

A cauldron bubbling and swirling,

And suddenly, like a wild beast,

She rushed towards the city. In front of her

Everything started running; everything around

Suddenly it was empty - suddenly there was water

Flowed into underground cellars,

Channels poured into the gratings,

And Petropol emerged like a newt,

Waist-deep in water.

Siege! attack! evil waves,

Like thieves, they climb into windows. Chelny

From the run the windows are smashed by the stern.

Trays under a wet veil,

Wrecks of huts, logs, roofs,

Stock trade goods,

The belongings of pale poverty,

Bridges demolished by thunderstorms,

Coffins from a washed-out cemetery

Floating through the streets!

He sees God's wrath and awaits execution.

Alas! everything perishes: shelter and food!

Where will I get it?

In that terrible year

The late Tsar was still in Russia

He ruled with glory. To the balcony

Sad, confused, he went out

And he said: “With God's element

Kings cannot control.” He sat down

And in the Duma with sorrowful eyes

I looked at the evil disaster.

There were stacks of lakes,

And in them there are wide rivers

The streets poured in. Castle

It seemed like a sad island.

The king said - from end to end,

Along nearby streets and distant ones

On a dangerous journey through stormy waters

To save and overcome with fear

And there are drowning people at home.

Then, on Petrova Square,

Where a new house has risen in the corner,

Where above the elevated porch

With a raised paw, as if alive,

There are two guard lions standing,

Riding a marble beast,

Without a hat, hands clasped in a cross,

Sat motionless, terribly pale

Evgeny. He was afraid, poor thing,

Not for myself. He didn't hear

How the greedy shaft rose,

Washing his soles,

How the rain hit his face,

Like the wind, howling violently,

He suddenly tore off his hat.

His desperate looks

Pointed at one edge

They were motionless. Like mountains

From the indignant depths

The waves rose there and got angry,

There the storm howled, there they rushed

Debris... God, God! there -

Alas! close to the waves,

Almost at the very bay -

The fence is unpainted, but the willow

And a dilapidated house: there it is,

Widow and daughter, his Parasha,

His dream... Or in a dream

Does he see this? or all ours

And life is nothing like an empty dream,

The mockery of heaven over earth?

And he seems to be bewitched

As if chained to marble,

Can't get off! Around him

Water and nothing else!

And with my back turned to him,

In the unshakable heights,

Above the indignant Neva

Stands with outstretched hand

Idol on a bronze horse. Part two

But now, having had enough of destruction

And tired of insolent violence,

The Neva was drawn back,

Admiring your indignation

And leaving with carelessness

Your prey. So villain

With his fierce gang

Having burst into the village, he breaks, cuts,

Destroys and robs; screams, gnashing,

Violence, swearing, anxiety, howling!..

And, burdened with robbery,

Afraid of the chase, tired,

The robbers are hurrying home,

Dropping prey on the way.

The water has subsided and the pavement

It opened, and Evgeny is mine

He hurries, his soul sinking,

In hope, fear and longing

To the barely subdued river.

But victories are full of triumph,

The waves were still boiling angrily,

As if a fire was smoldering under them,

The foam still covered them,

And Neva was breathing heavily,

Like a horse running back from battle.

Evgeny looks: he sees a boat;

He runs to her as if he were a find;

He calls the carrier -

And the carrier is carefree

Willingly pay him for a dime

Through terrible waves you are lucky.

And long with stormy waves

An experienced rower fought

And hide deep between their rows

Every hour with daring swimmers

The boat was ready - and finally

He reached the shore.

Unhappy

Runs down a familiar street

To familiar places. Looks

Can't find out. The view is terrible!

Everything is piled up in front of him;

What has been dropped, what has been demolished;

The houses were crooked, others

Completely collapsed, others

Shifted by waves; all around

As if in a battlefield,

Bodies are lying around. Evgeniy

Headlong, not remembering anything,

Exhausted from torment,

Runs to where he is waiting

Fate with unknown news,

Like with a sealed letter.

And now he’s running through the suburbs,

And here is the bay, and home is close...

What is this?..

He stopped.

I went back and came back.

He looks... walks... still looks.

This is the place where their house stands;

Here is the willow. There was a gate here -

Apparently they were blown away. Where is home?

And, full of gloomy care,

He keeps walking, he walks around,

Talks loudly to himself -

And suddenly, hitting him on the forehead with his hand,

Laughed.

Night haze

She descended upon the city in trepidation;

But the residents did not sleep for a long time

And they talked among themselves

About the day gone by.

Because of the tired, pale clouds

Flashed over the quiet capital

And I haven’t found any traces

Yesterday's troubles; purple

The evil was already covered up.

Everything returned to the same order.

The streets are already free

With your cold insensibility

People were walking. Official people

Leaving my night shelter,

I went to work. Brave trader,

Not discouraged, I opened

Neva robbed basement,

Collecting your loss is important

Place it on the nearest one. From the yards

They brought boats.

Count Khvostov,

Poet beloved by heaven

Already sang in immortal verses

The misfortune of the Neva banks.

But my poor, poor Evgeniy...

Alas! his confused mind

Against terrible shocks

I couldn't resist. Rebellious noise

The Neva and the winds were heard

In his ears. Terrible thoughts

Silently full, he wandered.

He was tormented by some kind of dream.

A week passed, a month - he

He did not return to his home.

His deserted corner

I rented it out when the deadline passed,

The owner of the poor poet.

Evgeny for his goods

Didn't come. He'll be out soon

Became alien. I wandered on foot all day,

And he slept on the pier; ate

A piece served into the window.

His clothes are shabby

It tore and smoldered. Angry children

They threw stones after him.

Often coachman's whips

He was whipped because

That he didn't understand the roads

Never again; it seemed he

Didn't notice. He's stunned

Was the noise of internal anxiety.

And so he is his unhappy age

Dragged, neither beast nor man,

Neither this nor that, nor the inhabitant of the world,

Not a dead ghost...

Once he was sleeping

At the Neva pier. Days of summer

We were approaching autumn. Breathed

Stormy wind. Grim Shaft

Splashed on the pier, grumbling fines

And hitting the smooth steps,

Like a petitioner at the door

The judges do not listen to him.

The poor man woke up. It was gloomy:

The rain fell, the wind howled sadly,

And with him far away, in the darkness of the night

The sentry called back...

Evgeny jumped up; remembered vividly

He is a past horror; hastily

He stood up; went wandering, and suddenly

Stopped - and around

He quietly began to move his eyes

With wild fear on your face.

He found himself under the pillars

Big house. On the porch

With a raised paw, as if alive,

The lions stood guard,

And right in the dark heights

Above the fenced rock

Idol with outstretched hand

Sat on a bronze horse.

Evgeny shuddered. cleared up

The thoughts in it are scary. He found out

And the place where the flood played,

Where the waves of predators crowded,

Rioting angrily around him,

And lions, and the square, and that,

Who stood motionless

In the darkness with a copper head,

The one whose will is fatal

The city was founded under the sea...

He is terrible in the surrounding darkness!

What a thought on the brow!

What power is hidden in it!

And what fire there is in this horse!

Where are you galloping, proud horse?

And where will you put your hooves?

O mighty lord of fate!

Aren't you above the abyss?

At the height, with an iron bridle

Around the foot of the idol

The poor madman walked around

And brought wild glances

The face of the ruler of half the world.

His chest felt tight. Chelo

It lay down on the cold grate,

My eyes became foggy,

A fire ran through my heart,

Blood boiled. He became gloomy

Before the proud idol

And, clenching my teeth, clenching my fingers,

As if possessed by black power,

“Welcome, miraculous builder! -

He whispered, trembling angrily, -

Already for you!..” And suddenly headlong

He started to run. It seemed

He is like a formidable king,

Instantly ignited with anger,

The face quietly turned...

And its area is empty

He runs and hears behind him -

It's like thunder roaring -

Heavy ringing galloping

Along the shaken pavement.

And, illuminated by the pale moon,

Stretching out your hand on high,

The Bronze Horseman rushes after him

On a loud galloping horse;

And all night long the poor madman,

Wherever you turn your feet,

Behind him is the Bronze Horseman everywhere

He galloped with a heavy stomp.

And from the time when it happened

He should go to that square,

His face showed

Confusion. To your heart

He hastily pressed his hand,

As if subduing him with torment,

A worn out cap,

Didn’t raise embarrassed eyes

And he walked aside.

Small Island

Visible at the seaside. Sometimes

Lands there with a seine

Late fisherman fishing

And the poor man cooks his dinner,

Or an official will visit,

Walking in a boat on Sunday

Deserted island. Not an adult

There's not a blade of grass there. Flood

Brought there while playing

The house is dilapidated. Above the water

He remained like a black bush.

His last spring

They brought me on a barge. It was empty

And everything is destroyed. At the threshold

They found my madman,

And then his cold corpse

Buried for God's sake.

Notes

Written in 1833. The poem is one of the deepest, boldest and most perfect in artistically works of Pushkin. The poet in him, with unprecedented strength and courage, shows the historically natural contradictions of life in all their nakedness, without trying to artificially make ends meet where they do not converge in reality itself. In the poem, in a generalized figurative form, two forces are opposed - the state, personified in Peter I (and then in symbolic image a revived monument, “The Bronze Horseman”), and a person in his personal, private interests and experiences. Speaking about Peter I, Pushkin glorified in inspired verses his “great thoughts”, his creation - the “city of Petrov”, a new capital built at the mouth of the Neva, “under the pestilence”, on “mossy, marshy banks”, for military-strategic reasons, economic and to establish cultural connection with Europe. The poet, without any reservations, praises the great state work of Peter, the wonderful city he created - “full of beauty and wonder of the world.” But these state considerations of Peter turn out to be the reason for the death of the innocent Eugene, a simple, an ordinary person. He is not a hero, but he knows how and wants to work (“...I am young and healthy, // I’m ready to work day and night”). He was brave during the flood; “He was afraid, poor thing, not for himself. // He did not hear how the greedy wave rose, // Washing his soles, he “boldly” sails along the “barely resigned” Neva to find out about the fate of his bride. Despite poverty, what Eugene values most is “independence and honor.” He dreams of simple human happiness: to marry the girl he loves and live modestly by his own labor. The flood, shown in the poem as a revolt of the conquered, conquered elements against Peter, ruins his life: Parasha dies, and he goes crazy. Peter I, in his great state concerns, did not think about defenseless little people forced to live under the threat of death from floods.

The tragic fate of Eugene and the poet’s deep, sorrowful sympathy for it are expressed in “The Bronze Horseman” with enormous power and poetry. And in the scene of the collision of the mad Eugene with the “Bronze Horseman”, his fiery, gloomy protest and a frontal threat to the “miraculous builder” on behalf of the victims of this construction, the poet’s language becomes as highly pathetic as in the solemn introduction to the poem. Ends with " Bronze Horseman” with a spare, restrained, deliberately prosaic message about the death of Evgeniy:

...Flood

Brought there while playing

The house is dilapidated...

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

His last spring

They brought me on a barge. It was empty

And everything is destroyed. At the threshold

They found my madman,

And then his cold corpse

Buried for God's sake.

Pushkin does not give any epilogue that returns us to the original theme of the majestic Petersburg, an epilogue that reconciles us with the historically justified tragedy of Eugene. The contradiction between the full recognition of the correctness of Peter I, who cannot take into account interests in his state “great thoughts” and affairs individual person, and full recognition of the rightness little man, demanding that his interests be taken into account - this contradiction remains unresolved in the poem. Pushkin was quite right, since this contradiction lay not in his thoughts, but in life itself; it was one of the most acute in the process historical development. This contradiction between the good of the state and the happiness of the individual is inevitable as long as class society exists, and it will disappear with its final destruction.

Artistically, The Bronze Horseman is a miracle of art. In an extremely limited volume (the poem has only 481 verses) there are many bright, lively and highly poetic pictures - see, for example, those scattered before the reader in the introduction individual images, which make up the whole majestic image of St. Petersburg; saturated with strength and dynamics, from a number of private paintings, a description of the flood is formed, an image of the delirium of the insane Eugene, amazing in its poetry and brightness, and much more. What distinguishes The Bronze Horseman from other Pushkin poems is the amazing flexibility and variety of its style, sometimes solemn and slightly archaic, sometimes extremely simple, colloquial, but always poetic. What gives the poem a special character is the use of techniques of almost musical construction of images: repetition, with some variations, of the same words and expressions (guard lions over the porch of a house, the image of a monument, “an idol on a bronze horse”), carrying through the entire poem in different changes one and the same thematic motif - rain and wind, the Neva - in countless en aspects, etc., not to mention the famous sound recording of this amazing poem.

Pushkin’s references to Mickiewicz in the notes to the poem refer to a series of poems by Mickiewicz about St. Petersburg in the recently published third part of his poem “The Wake” (“Dziady”). Despite the benevolent tone of the mention of Mickiewicz, Pushkin in a number of places in his description of St. Petersburg in the introduction (and also partly when depicting the monument to Peter I) polemicizes with the Polish poet, who in his poems expressed a sharply negative opinion about Peter I, and about his activities, and about Petersburg, and about Russians in general.

“The Bronze Horseman” was not published during Pushkin’s lifetime, since Nicholas I demanded from the poet such changes in the text of the poem that he did not want to make. The poem was published shortly after Pushkin's death in a revision by Zhukovsky, who completely distorted its main meaning.

From early editions

From the manuscripts of the poem

After the verses “And what will he be with Parasha // Separated for two, three days”:

Here he warmed up heartily

And he daydreamed like a poet:

“Why? why not?

I'm not rich, there's no doubt about that

And Parasha has no name,

Well then? what do we care?

Is it really only the rich?

Is it possible to get married? I'll arrange

A humble corner for yourself

And in it I will calm Parasha.

Bed, two chairs; cabbage soup pot

Yes, he is big; What more do I need?

Let's not know whims

Sundays in the summer in the field

I will walk with Parasha;

I’ll ask for a place; Parashe

I will entrust our farm

And raising children...

And we will live - and so on until the grave

We'll both get there hand in hand

And our grandchildren will bury us..."

After the verse “And the drowning people at home”:

The senator comes from his sleep to the window

And he sees - in a boat along the Morskaya

The military governor is sailing.

The senator froze: “Oh my God!

Here, Vanyusha! stand up a little

Look: what do you see through the window?

I see, sir: there is a general in the boat

Floats through the gate, past the booth.

“By God?” - Exactly, sir. - “Besides a joke?”

Yes, sir. - The senator rested

And asks for tea: “Thank God!

Well! The Count gave me anxiety

I thought: I’m crazy.”

Rough sketch of Eugene's description

He was a poor official

Rootless, orphan,

Pale, pockmarked,

Without clan, tribe, connections,

Without money, that is, without friends,

However, a citizen of the capital,

What kind of darkness do you meet,

Not at all different from you

Neither in face nor in mind.

Like everyone else, he behaved laxly,

Like you, I thought a lot about money,

How you, feeling sad, smoked tobacco,

Like you, he wore a uniform tailcoat.

Cut a window to Europe- Algarotti said somewhere: “Pйtersbourg est la fenctre par laquelle la Russie regarde en Europe.”

And the pale day is coming...- Mickiewicz described in beautiful verse the day preceding the St. Petersburg flood, in one of his best poems - Oleszkiewicz. It's just a pity that the description is not accurate. There was no snow - the Neva was not covered with ice. Our description is more accurate, although it does not contain bright colors Polish poet.

The generals set off- Count Miloradovich and Adjutant General Benckendorff.

Russia reared up- See the description of the monument in Mickiewicz. It is borrowed from Ruban - as Mickiewicz himself notes.

Poem “The Bronze Horseman” by A.S. Pushkin is one of the most perfect creations of the poet. In its syllable it resembles “Eugene Onegin”, and in its content it is close to both history and mythology. This work reflects the thoughts of A.S. Pushkin about Peter the Great and absorbed various opinions about the reformer.

The poem became the final work written during the Boldino autumn. At the end of 1833, “The Bronze Horseman” was completed.

At the time of Pushkin, there were two types of people - some idolized Peter the Great, while others attributed to him a relationship with Satan. On this basis, myths were born: in the first case, the reformer was called the Father of the Fatherland, they talked about an unprecedented mind, the creation of a paradise city (Petersburg), in the second, they prophesied the collapse of the city on the Neva, accused Peter the Great of having connections with dark forces, and called him the Antichrist.

The essence of the poem

The poem begins with a description of St. Petersburg, A.S. Pushkin emphasizes the uniqueness of the place for construction. Evgeniy lives in the city - the most ordinary employee, poor, does not want to get rich, it is more important for him to remain an honest and happy family man. Financial well-being is required only to provide for your beloved Parasha. The hero dreams of marriage and children, dreams of meeting old age hand in hand with his beloved girl. But his dreams are not destined to come true. The work describes the flood of 1824. A terrible time, when people died in layers of water, when the Neva raged and swallowed the city with its waves. It is in such a flood that Parasha dies. Evgeny, on the other hand, shows courage during a disaster, does not think about himself, tries to see his beloved’s house in the distance and runs to it. When the storm subsides, the hero hurries to the familiar gate: there is a willow tree, but there is no gate and no house either. This picture broke young man, he drags doomedly along the streets of the northern capital, leads the life of a wanderer and every day relives the events of that fateful night. During one of these cloudings, he comes across the house in which he used to live and sees a statue of Peter the Great on a horse - the Bronze Horseman. He hates the reformer because he built a city on the water that killed his beloved. But suddenly the rider comes to life and angrily rushes towards the offender. The tramp will later die.

In the poem, the interests of the state and ordinary person. On the one hand, Petrograd was called the northern Rome, on the other, its foundation on the Neva was dangerous for its inhabitants, and the flood of 1824 confirms this. Eugene’s malicious speeches addressed to the reformer ruler are interpreted in different ways: first, it is a rebellion against the autocracy; the second is the revolt of Christianity against paganism; the third is the pathetic murmur of a small person, whose opinion is not compared with the force necessary for changes on a national scale (that is, in order to achieve grandiose goals, something always has to be sacrificed, and the mechanism of collective will will not be stopped by the misfortune of one person).

Genre, verse meter and composition

The genre of The Bronze Horseman is a poem written, like Eugene Onegin, in iambic tetrameter. The composition is quite strange. Has an excessively large introduction, which can generally be considered as a separate independent work. Next are 2 parts, which tell about the main character, the flood and the clash with the Bronze Horseman. There is no epilogue in the poem, or rather, it is not highlighted separately by the poet himself - the last 18 lines are about the island at the seaside and the death of Eugene.

Despite the non-standard structure, the work is perceived as integral. This effect is created by compositional parallelisms. Peter the Great lived 100 years earlier than main character, but this does not prevent one from creating the feeling of the presence of a reformer ruler. His personality is expressed through the Bronze Horseman monument; but the person of Peter himself appears at the beginning of the poem, in the introduction, when the military and economic significance of St. Petersburg is discussed. A.S. Pushkin also carries the idea of the immortality of the reformer, since even after his death, innovations appeared and the old ones remained in force for a long time, that is, he launched that heavy and clumsy machine of change in Russia.

So, the figure of the ruler appears throughout the entire poem, either in his own person or in the form of a monument; he is revived by Eugene’s clouded mind. The time interval of the narrative between the introduction and the first part is 100 years, but despite such a sharp jump, the reader does not feel it, since A.S. Pushkin connected the events of 1824 with the so-called “culprit” of the flood, because it was Peter who built the city on the Neva. It is interesting to note that this book on composition is completely uncharacteristic of Pushkin’s style; it is an experiment.

Characteristics of the main characters

Evgeniy – we know little about him; lived in Kolomna, served there. He was poor, but had no addiction to money. Despite the complete ordinariness of the hero, and he could easily get lost among thousands of the same gray residents of St. Petersburg, he has a high and bright dream that fully meets the ideals of many people - marrying the girl he loves. He – as Pushkin himself liked to call his characters – “hero French novel" But his dreams are not destined to come true, Parasha dies in the flood of 1824, and Evgeniy goes crazy. The poet painted for us a weak and insignificant young man, whose face is instantly lost against the background of the figure of Peter the Great, but even this everyman has his own goal, which in strength and nobility is commensurate with or even surpasses the personality of the Bronze Horseman.
Peter the Great - in the introduction his figure is presented as a portrait of the Creator; Pushkin recognizes an incredible mind in the ruler, but emphasizes despotism. First, the poet shows that although the emperor is higher than Eugene, he is not higher than God and the elements, which are not subject to him, but the power Russia will take place through all adversity and will remain unharmed and unshakable. The author noted more than once that the reformer was too autocratic and did not pay attention to troubles ordinary people who became victims of his global transformations. Probably, opinions on this topic will always differ: on the one hand, tyranny is a bad quality that a ruler should not have, but on the other hand, would such extensive changes be possible if Peter had been softer? Everyone answers this question for themselves.

Subjects

The clash between power and the common man - main topic poem "The Bronze Horseman". In this work A.S. Pushkin reflects on the role of the individual in the fate of the entire state.

The Bronze Horseman personifies Peter the Great, whose reign was close to despotism and tyranny. His hand introduced reforms that completely changed the course of ordinary Russian life. But when a forest is cut down, chips inevitably fly. Can a little man find his happiness when such a lumberjack does not take into account his interests? The poem answers - no. A clash of interests between the authorities and people in this case is inevitable; of course, the latter remain the losers. A.S. Pushkin reflects on the structure of the state in Peter's times and on the fate of an individual hero in it - Eugene, coming to the conclusion that the empire is cruel to people in any case, and whether its greatness is worth such sacrifices is an open question.

The creator also addresses the theme of tragic loss loved one. Evgeniy cannot stand the loneliness and grief of loss and does not find anything to cling to in life if there is no love.

Issues

In the poem “The Bronze Horseman” by A.S. Pushkin raises the problem of the individual and the state. Evgeniy comes from the people. He is an ordinary petty official, living from hand to mouth. His soul is full high feelings to Parasha, with whom he dreams of marrying. The monument to the Bronze Horseman becomes the face of the state. In the oblivion of reason, a young man comes across the house in which he lived before the death of his beloved and before his madness. His gaze stumbles upon the monument, and his sick mind brings the statue to life. Here it is, the inevitable clash between the individual and the state. But the horseman angrily chases after Evgeniy, pursues him. How dare the hero grumble against the emperor?! The reformer thought on a larger scale, considering plans for the future in a full-length dimension, as if from a bird's eye view he looked at his creations, without peering at the people who were overwhelmed by his innovations. The people sometimes suffered from Peter’s decisions, just as they now sometimes suffer from the ruling hand. The monarch built a beautiful city, which during the flood of 1824 became a cemetery for many residents. But he doesn't take opinions into account ordinary people, one gets the feeling that with his thoughts he went far ahead of his time, and even after a hundred years not everyone was able to comprehend his plan. Thus, the individual is in no way protected from the arbitrariness of superiors; her rights are grossly violated and with impunity.
The problem of loneliness also bothered the author. The hero could not bear a day of life without his other half. Pushkin reflects on how vulnerable and vulnerable we still are, how the mind is not strong and subject to suffering.
The problem of indifference. No one helped the townspeople evacuate, no one corrected the consequences of the storm, and compensation to the families of the victims and social support the victims were never even dreamed of by officials. The state apparatus showed surprising indifference to the fate of its subjects.

The State in the Image of the Bronze Horseman

For the first time we encounter the image of Peter the Great in the poem “The Bronze Horseman” in the introduction. Here the ruler is depicted as the Creator, who conquered the elements and built a city on the water.

The emperor's reforms were disastrous for ordinary people, since they were aimed only at the nobility. Yes, and she had a hard time: let us remember how Peter forcibly cut the beards of the boyars. But main victim ordinary working people became the monarch's ambitions: it was they who paved the way with hundreds of lives northern capital. A city on bones - here it is - the personification of the state machine. It was comfortable for Peter himself and his entourage to live in the innovations, because they saw only one side of the new things - progressive and beneficial, and the fact that the destructive effects and “side effects” of these changes fell on the shoulders of “little” people did not bother anyone. The elite looked at St. Petersburg drowning in the Neva from “high balconies” and did not feel all the sorrows of the city’s watery foundation. Peter perfectly reflects the categorical absolutist state system– there will be reforms, but the people will “live somehow.”

If at first we see the Creator, then closer to the middle of the poem the poet propagates the idea that Peter the Great is not God and it is completely beyond his power to cope with the elements. At the end of the work we see only a stone likeness of the former, sensational ruler in Russia. Years later, the Bronze Horseman became only a reason for unreasonable worry and fear, but this is only a fleeting feeling of a madman.

What is the meaning of the poem?

Pushkin created a multifaceted and ambiguous work, which must be assessed from the point of view of ideological and thematic content. The meaning of the poem “The Bronze Horseman” lies in the confrontation between Eugene and the Bronze Horseman, the individual and the state, which criticism deciphers in different ways. So, the first meaning is the confrontation between paganism and Christianity. Peter was often awarded the title of Antichrist, and Eugene opposes such thoughts. One more thought: the hero is an everyman, and the reformer is a genius, they live in different worlds and don't understand each other. The author, however, recognizes that both types are needed for the harmonious existence of civilization. The third meaning is that the main character personified the rebellion against autocracy and despotism, which the poet propagated, because he belonged to the Decembrists. He allegorically retold the same helplessness of the uprising in the poem. And another interpretation of the idea is a pathetic and doomed to failure attempt by a “little” man to change and turn the course of the state machine in the other direction.

P The monument to Peter I ("The Bronze Horseman") is located in the heart of St. Petersburg - on Senate Square.
The location of the monument to Peter I was not chosen by chance. Nearby are the Admiralty founded by the Emperor and the building of the main legislative body of Tsarist Russia - the Senate.

In 1710, on the site of the current Bronze Horseman, in the premises of the “drafting shed,” the very first wooden St. Isaac’s Church was located.

Catherine II insisted on placing the monument in the center of Senate Square. The author of the sculpture, Etienne-Maurice Falconet, did his own thing by installing the “Bronze Horseman” closer to the Neva.

Falcone was invited to St. Petersburg by Prince Golitsyn. Professors of the Paris Academy of Painting Diderot and Voltaire, whose taste Catherine II trusted, advised to turn to this master.
Falcone was already fifty years old. He worked at a porcelain factory, but dreamed of great and monumental art. When an invitation was received to erect a monument in Russia, Falcone, without hesitation, signed the contract on September 6, 1766. Its conditions determined: the monument to Peter should consist of “mainly equestrian statue colossal size." The sculptor was offered a rather modest fee (200 thousand livres), other masters asked twice as much.

Falconet arrived in St. Petersburg with his seventeen-year-old assistant Marie-Anne Collot. Most likely, she also helped him in bed, but history is silent about this...
The vision of the monument to Peter I by the author of the sculpture was strikingly different from the desire of the empress and the majority of the Russian nobility. Catherine II expected to see Peter I with a rod or scepter in his hand, sitting on a horse like a Roman emperor. State Councilor Shtelin saw the figure of Peter surrounded by allegories of Prudence, Diligence, Justice and Victory. I. I. Betskoy, who supervised the construction of the monument, imagined it as a full-length figure, holding a commander’s staff in his hand.

Falcone was advised to direct the emperor's right eye to the Admiralty, and his left to the building of the Twelve Colleges. Diderot, who visited St. Petersburg in 1773, conceived a monument in the form of a fountain decorated with allegorical figures.

Falcone had something completely different in mind. He turned out to be stubborn and persistent. The sculptor wrote:
“I will limit myself only to the statue of this hero, whom I do not interpret as either a great commander or a winner, although he, of course, was both. The personality of the creator, legislator, benefactor of his country is much higher, and this is what needs to be shown people. My king does not hold any rod, he extends his beneficent right hand over the country he travels around. He rises to the top of the rock that serves as his pedestal - this is an emblem of the difficulties he has conquered.”

Defending the right to his opinion regarding the appearance of the monument, Falcone wrote to I. I. Betsky:

“Could you imagine that the sculptor chosen to create such a significant monument would be deprived of the ability to think and that the movements of his hands would be controlled by someone else’s head, and not his own?”

Disputes also arose around the clothes of Peter I. The sculptor wrote to Diderot:

“You know that I will not dress him in Roman style, just as I would not dress Julius Caesar or Scipio in Russian.”

Falcone worked on a life-size model of the monument for three years. Work on "The Bronze Horseman" was carried out on the site of the former temporary Winter Palace Elizaveta Petrovna.
In 1769, passersby could watch here as a guards officer took off on a horse onto a wooden platform and reared it. This went on for several hours a day. Falcone sat at the window in front of the platform and carefully sketched what he saw. The horses for work on the monument were taken from the imperial stables: the horses Brilliant and Caprice. The sculptor chose the Russian “Oryol” breed for the monument.

Falconet's student Marie-Anne Collot sculpted the head of the Bronze Horseman. The sculptor himself took on this work three times, but each time Catherine II advised to remake the model. Marie herself proposed her sketch, which was accepted by the empress. For her work, the girl was accepted as a member Russian Academy arts, Catherine II assigned her a lifelong pension of 10,000 livres.

The snake under the horse’s foot was sculpted by the Russian sculptor F. G. Gordeev.

Preparing the life-size plaster model of the monument took twelve years; it was ready by 1778. The model was open for public viewing in the workshop on the corner of Brick Lane and Bolshaya Morskaya Street. Various opinions were expressed. The Chief Prosecutor of the Synod resolutely did not accept the project. Diderot was pleased with what he saw. Catherine II turned out to be indifferent to the model of the monument - she did not like Falcone’s arbitrariness in choosing the appearance of the monument.

On the left in the photo is a bust of Falconet Marie-Anne Collot 1773.

For a long time, no one wanted to take on the task of casting the statue. Foreign masters demanded too much a large amount, and local craftsmen were frightened by its size and complexity of work. According to the sculptor's calculations, in order to maintain the balance of the monument, the front walls of the monument had to be made very thin - no more than a centimeter. Even a specially invited foundry worker from France refused such work. He called Falcone crazy and said that there was no such example of casting in the world, that it would not succeed.

Finally, a foundry worker was found - cannon master Emelyan Khailov. Together with him, Falcone selected the alloy and made samples. In three years, the sculptor mastered casting to perfection. They began casting the Bronze Horseman in 1774.

The technology was very complex. The thickness of the front walls had to be less than the thickness of the rear ones. At the same time, the back part became heavier, which gave stability to the statue, which rested on only two fulcrum points (the snake is not a fulcrum, more on that below).

Filling alone, which began on August 25, 1775, did not solve the problem. Khailov was entrusted with her supervision. 1,350 pounds of bronze were prepared, and when all of it, molten, flowed into the mold, the mold cracked and the metal poured onto the floor. A fire started. Falcone ran out of the workshop in horror, the workers ran after him, and only Khailov remained in place. Risking his life, he wrapped the mold in his homespun and coated it with clay, picked up the spilled bronze and poured it back into the mold. The monument was saved, and the errors that arose due to the accident were later corrected when polishing the statue.

The St. Petersburg Gazette wrote about these events:

“The casting was successful except in places two feet by two at the top. This regrettable failure occurred through an incident that was not at all foreseeable, and therefore impossible to prevent. The above-mentioned incident seemed so terrible that they were afraid that the entire building would catch fire, but, Therefore, the whole business would not have failed. Khailov remained motionless and carried the molten metal into the mold, without losing his courage in the least at the danger to his life presented to him, Falconet, touched at the end of the matter, rushed to him and kissed him with all his heart and gave him his own. money."

However, as a result of the accident, numerous large defects (underfilling, adhesions) were formed in the horse’s head and the figure of the rider above the waist.

A bold plan was developed to save the statue. It was decided to cut off the defective part of the statue and refill it, increasing new uniform directly onto the surviving parts of the monument. Using pieces of plaster mold, a wax model of the top of the casting was obtained, which is a continuation of the wall of the previously cast part of the statue.

The second filling was carried out in November 1777, and it was a complete success. In memory of this unique operation, on one of the folds of Peter I’s cloak, the sculptor left the inscription “Modeled and cast by Etienne Falconet, Parisian 1778.” Not a word about Khailov.

According to the sculptor’s plan, the base of the monument is a natural rock in the shape of a wave. The shape of the wave serves as a reminder that it was Peter I who led Russia to the sea. The Academy of Arts began searching for the monolith stone when the model of the monument was not yet ready. A stone was needed whose height would be 11.2 meters.

The granite monolith was found in the Lakhta area, twelve miles from St. Petersburg.

Once upon a time, according to local legends, lightning struck the rock, forming a crack in it. Among the locals, the rock was called "Thunder Stone".

That’s what they later began to call the piece of rock when they installed it on the banks of the Neva for famous monument. There were rumors that in the old days there was a temple on it. And sacrifices were made.

The initial weight of the monolith is about 2000 tons. Catherine II announced a reward of 7,000 rubles to the one who comes up with the most effective way to deliver the rock to Senate Square. From many projects, the method proposed by a certain Carbury was chosen. There were rumors that he had bought this project from some Russian merchant.

A clearing was cut from the location of the stone to the shore of the bay and the soil was strengthened. The rock was freed from excess layers, and it immediately became lighter by 600 tons. The thunder-stone was hoisted with levers onto a wooden platform resting on copper balls. These balls moved on grooved wooden rails lined with copper. The clearing was winding. Work on transporting the rock continued in both cold and hot weather. Hundreds of people worked. Many St. Petersburg residents came to watch this action. Some of the observers collected fragments of stone and used them to make cane knobs or cufflinks. In honor of the extraordinary transport operation, Catherine II ordered the minting of a medal with the inscription “Like daring. January 20, 1770.”

The poet Vasily Rubin wrote in the same year:
The Russian Mountain, not made by hands here, Hearing the voice of God from the lips of Catherine, Came to the city of Petrov through the Neva abyss. And she fell under the feet of the Great Peter.

By the time the monument to Peter I was erected, the relationship between the sculptor and the imperial court had completely deteriorated. It got to the point that Falcone was credited with only a technical attitude towards the monument.

Portrait of Marie-Anne Collot

The offended master did not wait for the opening of the monument; in September 1778, together with Marie-Anne Collot, he left for Paris.

And the monument, weighing about 10 tons, still had to be erected...

The installation of the Bronze Horseman on the pedestal was supervised by the architect F. G. Gordeev.

The grand opening of the monument to Peter I took place on August 7, 1782 (old style). The sculpture was hidden from the eyes of observers by a canvas fence depicting mountain landscapes.

It had been raining since the morning, but it did not stop a significant number of people from gathering on Senate Square. By noon the clouds had cleared. The guards entered the square. The military parade was led by Prince A. M. Golitsyn. At four o'clock, Empress Catherine II herself arrived on the boat. She climbed onto the balcony of the Senate building in a crown and purple and gave a sign for the opening of the monument. The fence fell under drum roll The regiments moved along the Neva embankment.

By order of Catherine II, the following is inscribed on the pedestal: “Catherine II to Peter I.” Thus, the Empress emphasized her commitment to Peter's reforms. Immediately after the appearance of the Bronze Horseman on Senate Square, the square was named Petrovskaya.

A. S. Pushkin called the sculpture “The Bronze Horseman” in his poem of the same name. This expression has become so popular that it has become almost official. And the monument to Peter I itself became one of the symbols of St. Petersburg.
The weight of the "Bronze Horseman" is 8 tons, the height is more than 5 meters.

Neither the wind nor the terrible floods could defeat the monument.

Legends

One evening, Pavel, accompanied by his friend Prince Kurakin, walked through the streets of St. Petersburg. Suddenly a man appeared ahead, wrapped in a wide cloak. It seemed that he was waiting for the travelers and, when they approached, he walked next to them. Pavel shuddered and turned to Kurakin: “Someone is walking next to us.” However, he did not see anyone and tried to convince the Grand Duke of this. Suddenly the ghost spoke: “Paul! Poor Pavel! I am the one who takes part in you.” Then the ghost walked ahead of the travelers, as if leading them along. Approaching the middle of the square, he indicated the place for the future monument. “Goodbye, Pavel,” said the ghost, “you will see me here again.” And when, leaving, he raised his hat, Pavel saw Peter’s face with horror.

The legend is believed to date back to the memoirs of Baroness von Oberkirch, who details the circumstances under which Paul himself publicly told the story. Bearing in mind the high reliability of the memoirs based on many years diary entries and the friendship between the Baroness and Maria Feodorovna, Paul’s wife, most likely, the source of the legend is indeed the future sovereign himself...

There is another legend. During the War of 1812, when the threat of Napoleonic invasion was real, Alexander I decided to transport the monument to Peter to Vologda. A certain captain Baturin had a strange dream: as if the Bronze Horseman was moving off the pedestal and galloping towards Kamenny Island, where Emperor Alexander I was at that time. “Young man, what have you brought my Russia to?” Peter tells him. “But until then, as long as I stand in my place, my city has nothing to fear." Then the horseman, announcing the city with a “heavy ringing gallop,” returned to Senate Square. According to legend, the dream of the unknown captain was brought to the attention of the emperor, as a result of which the statue of Peter the Great remained in St. Petersburg.
As you know, the boot of a Napoleonic soldier, like a fascist one, did not touch the St. Petersburg pavements.

The famous mystic and spirit seer of the 20th century, Daniil Andreev, in “The Rose of the World,” described one of the hellish worlds. There he reports that in infernal Petersburg, the torch in the hand of the Bronze Horseman is the only source of light, while Peter is sitting not on a horse, but on a terrible dragon...

During the siege of Leningrad, the Bronze Horseman was covered with bags of earth and sand, lined with logs and boards.

When after the war the monument was freed from boards and bags, the Star of the Hero appeared on Peter’s chest Soviet Union. Someone drew it with chalk...

Restorations of the monument took place in 1909 and 1976. During the last of them, the sculpture was studied using gamma rays. To do this, the space around the monument was fenced off with sandbags and concrete blocks. The cobalt gun was controlled from a nearby bus. Thanks to this research, it turned out that the frame of the monument can still serve for many years. Inside the figure was a capsule with a note about the restoration and its participants, a newspaper dated September 3, 1976.

Etienne-Maurice Falconet conceived The Bronze Horseman without a fence. But it was still created and has not survived to this day. “Thanks to” the vandals who left their autographs on the thunder stone and the sculpture itself, the idea of restoring the fence was realized.

The snake that the horse tramples and the tail serve only to separate the air currents and reduce the windage of the monument.

2. Peter’s pupils are made in the shape of hearts. Peter looks at the city with loving eyes. So Falcone conveyed to his descendants the news of Peter’s love for his brainchild - St. Petersburg.

3. Thanks to Pushkin and his poem, the monument is called “Copper”, but it is not made of copper, but of bronze (even though bronze consists mostly of copper).

4. The monument was depicted on the money of Yudenich, who went to Petrograd, but did not reach it.

The monument is covered in myths and legends. It is also in foreign collections. This is how the Japanese imagined it.

Illustration from the 11th scroll "Kankai Ibun". The monument is painted Japanese artist from the words of the sailors)))

Previously, submariner graduates of VVMIOLU named after. F.E. Dzerzhinsky (located in the Admiralty building) there was a tradition, on the night before release, to rub the eggs of Peter’s horse. After that they sparkled brightly, for almost half a year))) now the school has been moved and the tradition has died...