The Kuragin family in Leo Tolstoy's novel "War and Peace". The Rostov and Kuragin family

Like everything in the epic War and Peace, the character system is extremely complex and very simple at the same time.

It is complex because the composition of the book is multi-figured, dozens of plot lines, intertwining, form its dense artistic fabric. Simple because all the heterogeneous heroes belonging to incompatible class, cultural, and property circles are clearly divided into several groups. And we find this division at all levels, in all parts of the epic.

What kind of groups are these? And on what basis do we distinguish them? These are groups of heroes who are equally far from people’s life, from the spontaneous movement of history, from the truth, or equally close to them.

We have just said: Tolstoy’s novel epic is permeated by the end-to-end idea that the unknowable and objective historical process is controlled directly by God; that a person can choose the right path both in private life and in great history not with the help of a proud mind, but with the help of a sensitive heart. The one who guessed right, felt the mysterious course of history and the no less mysterious laws of everyday life, is wise and great, even if he is small in his social status. Anyone who boasts of his power over the nature of things, who selfishly imposes his personal interests on life, is petty, even if he is great in his social position.

In accordance with this harsh opposition, Tolstoy’s heroes are “distributed” into several types, into several groups.

In order to understand exactly how these groups interact with each other, let's agree on the concepts that we will use when analyzing Tolstoy's multi-figure epic. These concepts are conventional, but they make it easier to understand the typology of heroes (remember what the word “typology” means; if you have forgotten, look up its meaning in the dictionary).

Those who, from the author’s point of view, are furthest from the correct understanding of the world order, we will agree to call life wasters. Those who, like Napoleon, think that they control history, we will call leaders. They are opposed by the sages who comprehended the main secret of life and understood that man must submit to the invisible will of Providence. We will call those who simply live, listening to the voice of their own heart, but do not particularly strive for anything, ordinary people. Those favorite Tolstoy heroes! - those who painfully search for the truth will be defined as truth-seekers. And finally, Natasha Rostova does not fit into any of these groups, and this is fundamental for Tolstoy, which we will also talk about.

So, who are they, Tolstoy’s heroes?

Livers. They are busy only with chatting, arranging their personal affairs, serving their petty whims, their egocentric desires. And at any cost, regardless of the fate of other people. This is the lowest of all ranks in Tolstoy's hierarchy. The heroes belonging to him are always of the same type; to characterize them, the narrator demonstratively uses the same detail over and over again.

The head of the capital's salon, Anna Pavlovna Sherer, appearing on the pages of War and Peace, each time with an unnatural smile moves from one circle to another and treats the guests to an interesting visitor. She is confident that she shapes public opinion and influences the course of things (although she herself changes her beliefs precisely in response to fashion).

The diplomat Bilibin is convinced that it is they, the diplomats, who control the historical process (but in fact he is busy with idle talk); from one scene to another, Bilibin gathers wrinkles on his forehead and utters a pre-prepared sharp word.

Drubetsky's mother, Anna Mikhailovna, who persistently promotes her son, accompanies all her conversations with a mournful smile. In Boris Drubetsky himself, as soon as he appears on the pages of the epic, the narrator always highlights one feature: his indifferent calm of an intelligent and proud careerist.

As soon as the narrator starts talking about the predatory Helen Kuragina, he certainly mentions her luxurious shoulders and bust. And whenever Andrei Bolkonsky’s young wife, the little princess, appears, the narrator will pay attention to her slightly open lip with a mustache. This monotony of narrative technique does not indicate a poverty of artistic arsenal, but, on the contrary, a deliberate goal set by the author. The playmakers themselves are monotonous and unchanging; only their views change, the being remains the same. They don't develop. And the immobility of their images, the resemblance to death masks is precisely emphasized stylistically.

The only one of the epic characters belonging to this group who is endowed with a moving, lively character is Fyodor Dolokhov. “Semyonovsky officer, famous gambler and buster,” he is distinguished by his extraordinary appearance - and this alone sets him apart from the general ranks of playmakers.

Moreover: Dolokhov is languishing, bored in that whirlpool of worldly life that sucks in the rest of the “burners.” That’s why he indulges in all sorts of bad things and ends up in scandalous stories (the plot with the bear and the policeman in the first part, for which Dolokhov was demoted to the rank and file). In the battle scenes, we witness Dolokhov's fearlessness, then we see how tenderly he treats his mother... But his fearlessness is aimless, Dolokhov's tenderness is an exception to his own rules. And hatred and contempt for people becomes the rule.

It is fully manifested both in the episode with Pierre (having become Helen’s lover, Dolokhov provokes Bezukhov to a duel), and at the moment when Dolokhov helps Anatoly Kuragin prepare the kidnapping of Natasha. And especially in the card game scene: Fyodor cruelly and dishonestly beats Nikolai Rostov, vilely taking out on him his anger at Sonya, who refused Dolokhov.

Dolokhov’s rebellion against the world (and this is also “the world”!) of wasters of life turns into the fact that he himself is wasting his life, letting it go to waste. And this is especially offensive for the narrator to realize, who, by singling out Dolokhov from the general crowd, seems to be giving him a chance to break out of the terrible circle.

And in the center of this circle, this funnel that sucks in human souls, is the Kuragin family.

The main “ancestral” quality of the entire family is cold selfishness. It is especially characteristic of his father, Prince Vasily, with his courtly self-awareness. It is not for nothing that for the first time the prince appears before the reader “in a courtly, embroidered uniform, in stockings, shoes, with the stars, with a bright expression on his flat face.” Prince Vasily himself does not calculate anything, does not plan ahead, one can say that instinct acts for him: when he tries to marry Anatole’s son to Princess Marya, and when he tries to deprive Pierre of his inheritance, and when, having suffered an involuntary defeat along the way, he imposes on Pierre his daughter Helen.

Helen, whose “unchanging smile” emphasizes the uniqueness, one-dimensionality of this heroine, seems to have been frozen for years in the same state: static deathly sculptural beauty. She, too, does not specifically plan anything, she also obeys almost animal instinct: bringing her husband closer and further away, taking lovers and intending to convert to Catholicism, preparing the ground for divorce and starting two novels at once, one of which (either) must culminate in marriage.

External beauty replaces Helen's inner content. This characteristic also applies to her brother, Anatoly Kuragin. A tall, handsome man with “beautiful big eyes,” he is not gifted with intelligence (although not as stupid as his brother Hippolytus), but “but he also had the ability of calm and unchangeable confidence, precious for the world.” This confidence is akin to the instinct of profit that controls the souls of Prince Vasily and Helen. And although Anatole does not pursue personal gain, he hunts for pleasure with the same unquenchable passion and with the same readiness to sacrifice any neighbor. This is what he does to Natasha Rostova, making her fall in love with him, preparing to take her away and not thinking about her fate, about the fate of Andrei Bolkonsky, whom Natasha is going to marry...

Kuragins play in the vain dimension of the world the same role that Napoleon plays in the “military” dimension: they personify secular indifference to good and evil. At their whim, the Kuragins draw the surrounding life into a terrible whirlpool. This family is like a pool. Having approached him at a dangerous distance, it is easy to die - only a miracle saves Pierre, Natasha, and Andrei Bolkonsky (who would certainly have challenged Anatole to a duel if not for the circumstances of the war).

Leaders. The lowest “category” of heroes - playmakers in Tolstoy's epic corresponds to the upper category of heroes - leaders. The method of depicting them is the same: the narrator draws attention to one single trait of the character’s character, behavior or appearance. And at every meeting of the reader with this hero, he persistently, almost insistently points out this trait.

The playmakers belong to the “world” in the worst of its meanings, nothing in history depends on them, they revolve in the emptiness of the salon. Leaders are inextricably linked with war (again in the bad sense of the word); they stand at the head of historical collisions, separated from mere mortals by an impenetrable veil of their own greatness. But if the Kuragins really involve the surrounding life in a worldly whirlpool, then the leaders of nations only think that they are dragging humanity into a historical whirlpool. In fact, they are just toys of chance, pathetic instruments in the invisible hands of Providence.

And here let's stop for a second to agree on one important rule. And once and for all. In fiction, you have already encountered and will encounter images of real historical figures more than once. In Tolstoy's epic, this is Emperor Alexander I, and Napoleon, and Barclay de Tolly, and Russian and French generals, and the Moscow Governor-General Rostopchin. But we should not, we have no right to confuse “real” historical figures with their conventional images that act in novels, stories, and poems. And the sovereign emperor, and Napoleon, and Rostopchin, and especially Barclay de Tolly, and other Tolstoy characters depicted in “War and Peace” are the same fictional heroes as Pierre Bezukhov, like Natasha Rostova or Anatol Kuragin.

The external outline of their biographies can be reproduced in a literary work with scrupulous, scientific accuracy - but the internal content is “put into” them by the writer, invented in accordance with the picture of life that he creates in his work. And therefore, they are not much more similar to real historical figures than Fyodor Dolokhov is to his prototype, the reveler and daredevil R.I. Dolokhov, and Vasily Denisov is to the partisan poet D.V. Davydov.

Only by mastering this iron and irrevocable rule can we move on.

So, discussing the lowest category of heroes in War and Peace, we came to the conclusion that it has its own mass (Anna Pavlovna Scherer or, for example, Berg), its own center (Kuragins) and its own periphery (Dolokhov). The highest level is organized and structured according to the same principle.

The main leader, and therefore the most dangerous, the most deceitful of them, is Napoleon.

There are two Napoleonic images in Tolstoy's epic. Odin lives in the legend of a great commander, which is retold to each other by different characters and in which he appears either as a powerful genius or as an equally powerful villain. Not only visitors to Anna Pavlovna Scherer’s salon believe in this legend at different stages of their journey, but also Andrei Bolkonsky and Pierre Bezukhov. At first we see Napoleon through their eyes, we imagine him in the light of their life ideal.

And another image is a character acting on the pages of the epic and shown through the eyes of the narrator and the heroes who suddenly encounter him on the battlefields. For the first time, Napoleon as a character in War and Peace appears in the chapters dedicated to the Battle of Austerlitz; first the narrator describes him, then we see him from the point of view of Prince Andrei.

The wounded Bolkonsky, who recently idolized the leader of the peoples, notices on the face of Napoleon, bending over him, “a radiance of complacency and happiness.” Having just experienced a spiritual upheaval, he looks into the eyes of his former idol and thinks “about the insignificance of greatness, about the insignificance of life, the meaning of which no one could understand.” And “his hero himself seemed so petty to him, with this petty vanity and joy of victory, in comparison with that high, fair and kind sky that he saw and understood.”

The narrator - both in Austerlitz's chapters, and in Tilsit's, and in Borodin's - invariably emphasizes the ordinariness and comic insignificance of the appearance of the man whom the whole world idolizes and hates. The “fat, short” figure, “with broad, thick shoulders and an involuntarily protruding belly and chest, had that representative, dignified appearance that forty-year-old people living in the hall have.”

In the novel's image of Napoleon there is not a trace of the power that is contained in his legendary image. For Tolstoy, only one thing matters: Napoleon, who imagined himself as the mover of history, is in fact pathetic and especially insignificant. Impersonal fate (or the unknowable will of Providence) made him an instrument of the historical process, and he imagined himself to be the creator of his victories. The words from the historiosophical ending of the book refer to Napoleon: “For us, with the measure of good and bad given to us by Christ, there is nothing immeasurable. And there is no greatness where there is no simplicity, goodness and truth.”

A smaller and worsened copy of Napoleon, a parody of him - the Moscow mayor Rostopchin. He fusses, fusses, hangs up posters, quarrels with Kutuzov, thinking that the fate of Muscovites, the fate of Russia, depends on his decisions. But the narrator sternly and unflinchingly explains to the reader that Moscow residents began to leave the capital not because someone called them to do so, but because they obeyed the will of Providence that they had guessed. And the fire broke out in Moscow not because Rostopchin wanted it (and especially not contrary to his orders), but because it could not help but burn down: in abandoned wooden houses where the invaders settled, sooner or later a fire inevitably breaks out.

Rostopchin has the same attitude towards the departure of Muscovites and the Moscow fires that Napoleon has towards the victory on the Field of Austerlitz or the flight of the valiant French army from Russia. The only thing that is truly in his power (as well as in the power of Napoleon) is to protect the lives of the townspeople and militias entrusted to him, or to throw them away out of whim or fear.

The key scene in which the narrator’s attitude to the “leaders” in general and to the image of Rostopchin in particular is concentrated is the lynching execution of the merchant son Vereshchagin (volume III, part three, chapters XXIV-XXV). In it, the ruler is revealed as a cruel and weak person, mortally afraid of an angry crowd and, out of horror of it, ready to shed blood without trial.

The narrator seems extremely objective; he does not show his personal attitude to the actions of the mayor, does not comment on them. But at the same time, he consistently contrasts the “metallic-ringing” indifference of the “leader” with the uniqueness of an individual human life. Vereshchagin is described in great detail, with obvious compassion (“bringing shackles... pressing the collar of his sheepskin coat... with a submissive gesture”). But Rostopchin doesn’t look at his future victim - the narrator specifically repeats several times, with emphasis: “Rostopchin didn’t look at him.”

Even the angry, gloomy crowd in the courtyard of the Rostopchin house does not want to rush at Vereshchagin, accused of treason. Rostopchin is forced to repeat several times, setting her against the merchant’s son: “Beat him!.. Let the traitor die and not disgrace the name of the Russian!” ...Ruby! I order!". But even after this direct call-order, “the crowd groaned and moved forward, but stopped again.” She still sees Vereshchagin as a man and does not dare to rush at him: “A tall fellow, with a petrified expression on his face and with a stopped raised hand, stood next to Vereshchagin.” Only after, obeying the officer’s order, the soldier “with a face distorted with anger hit Vereshchagin on the head with a blunt broadsword” and the merchant’s son in a fox sheepskin coat “shortly and in surprise” cried out - “the barrier of human feeling stretched to the highest degree, which still held the crowd , broke through instantly.” Leaders treat people not as living beings, but as instruments of their power. And therefore they are worse than the crowd, more terrible than it.

The images of Napoleon and Rostopchin stand at opposite poles of this group of heroes from War and Peace. And the main “mass” of leaders here are formed by various kinds of generals, chiefs of all stripes. All of them, as one, do not understand the inscrutable laws of history, they think that the outcome of the battle depends only on them, on their military talents or political abilities. It doesn’t matter which army they serve - French, Austrian or Russian. And the personification of this entire mass of generals in the epic is Barclay de Tolly, a dry German in Russian service. He understands nothing of the spirit of the people and, together with other Germans, believes in a scheme of correct disposition.

The real Russian commander Barclay de Tolly, unlike the artistic image created by Tolstoy, was not German (he came from a Scottish family that had been Russified a long time ago). And in his activities he never relied on a scheme. But here lies the line between a historical figure and his image, which is created by literature. In Tolstoy's picture of the world, the Germans are not real representatives of a real people, but a symbol of foreignness and cold rationalism, which only interferes with understanding the natural course of things. Therefore, Barclay de Tolly, as a novel hero, turns into a dry “German”, which he was not in reality.

And at the very edge of this group of heroes, on the border separating the false leaders from the sages (we’ll talk about them a little later), stands the image of the Russian Tsar Alexander I. He is so isolated from the general series that at first it even seems that his image is devoid of boring unambiguity, that it is complex and multi-component. Moreover: the image of Alexander I is invariably presented in an aura of admiration.

But let's ask ourselves a question: whose admiration is this, the narrator's or the heroes'? And then everything will immediately fall into place.

Here we see Alexander for the first time during a review of Austrian and Russian troops (volume I, part three, chapter VIII). At first, the narrator describes him neutrally: “The handsome, young Emperor Alexander... with his pleasant face and sonorous, quiet voice attracted all the attention.” Then we begin to look at the tsar through the eyes of Nikolai Rostov, who is in love with him: “Nicholas clearly, down to all the details, examined the beautiful, young and happy face of the emperor, he experienced a feeling of tenderness and delight, the likes of which he had never experienced before. Everything - every feature, every movement - seemed charming to him about the sovereign.” The narrator discovers ordinary traits in Alexander: beautiful, pleasant. But Nikolai Rostov discovers in them a completely different quality, a superlative degree: they seem beautiful, “lovely” to him.

But here is Chapter XV of the same part; here the narrator and Prince Andrei, who is by no means in love with the sovereign, alternately look at Alexander I. This time there is no such internal gap in emotional assessments. The Emperor meets with Kutuzov, whom he clearly dislikes (and we do not yet know how highly the narrator values ​​Kutuzov).

It would seem that the narrator is again objective and neutral:

“An unpleasant impression, just like the remnants of fog in a clear sky, ran across the young and happy face of the emperor and disappeared... the same charming combination of majesty and meekness was in his beautiful gray eyes, and on his thin lips the same possibility of various expressions and the prevailing expression complacent, innocent youth."

Again the “young and happy face”, again the charming appearance... And yet, pay attention: the narrator lifts the veil over his own attitude towards all these qualities of the king. He says directly: “on thin lips” there was “the possibility of a variety of expressions.” And “the expression of complacent, innocent youth” is only the predominant one, but by no means the only one. That is, Alexander I always wears masks, behind which his real face is hidden.

What kind of face is this? It's contradictory. There is kindness and sincerity in him - and falsity, lies. But the fact of the matter is that Alexander is opposed to Napoleon; Tolstoy does not want to belittle his image, but cannot exalt it. Therefore, he resorts to the only possible method: he shows the king primarily through the eyes of heroes devoted to him and worshiping his genius. It is they, blinded by their love and devotion, who pay attention only to the best manifestations of Alexander’s different face; it is they who recognize him as a real leader.

In Chapter XVIII (volume one, part three), Rostov again sees the Tsar: “The Tsar was pale, his cheeks were sunken and his eyes sunken; but there was even more charm and meekness in his features.” This is a typically Rostov look - the look of an honest but superficial officer in love with his sovereign. However, now Nikolai Rostov meets the Tsar far from the nobles, from thousands of eyes fixed on him; in front of him is a simple suffering mortal, gravely experiencing the defeat of the army: “Tolya said something for a long time and passionately to the sovereign,” and he, “apparently crying, closed his eyes with his hand and shook Tolya’s hand.” Then we will see the tsar through the eyes of the obligingly proud Drubetsky (volume III, part one, chapter III), the enthusiastic Petya Rostov (volume III, part one, chapter XXI), Pierre Bezukhov at the moment when he is captured by the general enthusiasm during the Moscow meeting of the sovereign with deputations of the nobility and merchants (volume III, part one, chapter XXIII)...

The narrator, with his attitude, remains for the time being in a deep shadow. He only says through clenched teeth at the beginning of the third volume: “The Tsar is a slave of history,” but he refrains from direct assessments of the personality of Alexander I until the end of the fourth volume, when the Tsar directly encounters Kutuzov (chapters X and XI, part four). Only here, and even then not for long, does the narrator show his restrained disapproval. After all, we are talking about the resignation of Kutuzov, who had just won, together with the entire Russian people, a victory over Napoleon!

And the result of the “Alexandrov’s” plot line will be summed up only in the Epilogue, where the narrator will try with all his might to maintain justice in relation to the tsar, bringing his image closer to the image of Kutuzov: the latter was necessary for the movement of peoples from west to east, and the former for the return movement peoples from east to west.

Ordinary people. Both the wasters and the leaders in the novel are contrasted with “ordinary people”, led by the lover of truth, the Moscow lady Marya Dmitrievna Akhrosimova. In their world, she plays the same role that the St. Petersburg lady Anna Pavlovna Sherer plays in the world of the Kuragins and Bilibins. Ordinary people have not risen above the general level of their time, their era, have not learned the truth of people's life, but instinctively live in conditional harmony with it. Although they sometimes act incorrectly, and human weaknesses are fully inherent in them.

This discrepancy, this difference in potential, the combination in one person of different qualities, good and not so good, distinguishes ordinary people from both the wasters of life and the leaders. Heroes classified in this category, as a rule, are shallow people, and yet their portraits are painted in different colors and are obviously devoid of unambiguity and uniformity.

This is, in general, the hospitable Moscow Rostov family, the mirror opposite of the St. Petersburg Kuragin clan.

The old Count Ilya Andreich, the father of Natasha, Nikolai, Petya, Vera, is a weak-willed man, he allows his managers to rob him, he suffers at the thought of ruining his children, but he can’t do anything about it. Going to the village for two years, trying to move to St. Petersburg and get a job changes little in the general state of affairs.

The count is not very smart, but at the same time he is fully endowed by God with heartfelt gifts - hospitality, cordiality, love for family and children. Two scenes characterize him from this side, and both are imbued with lyricism and rapture of delight: a description of a dinner in a Rostov house in honor of Bagration and a description of a dog hunt.

And one more scene is extremely important for understanding the image of the old count: the departure from burning Moscow. It is he who first gives the reckless (from the point of view of common sense) order to let the wounded into the carts. Having removed their acquired goods from the carts for the sake of Russian officers and soldiers, the Rostovs deal the last irreparable blow to their own condition... But they not only save several lives, but also, unexpectedly for themselves, give Natasha a chance to reconcile with Andrei.

Ilya Andreich's wife, Countess Rostova, is also not distinguished by any special intelligence - that abstract, scientific mind, which the narrator treats with obvious distrust. She is hopelessly behind modern life; and when the family is completely ruined, the countess is not even able to understand why they should abandon their own carriage and cannot send a carriage for one of her friends. Moreover, we see the injustice, sometimes cruelty of the Countess towards Sonya - who is completely innocent of the fact that she is without a dowry.

And yet, she also has a special gift of humanity, which separates her from the crowd of wasters and brings her closer to the truth of life. This is the gift of love for one's own children; instinctively wise, deep and selfless love. The decisions she makes in relation to children are dictated not simply by the desire for profit and saving the family from ruin (although also for her); they are aimed at arranging the lives of the children themselves in the best possible way. And when the countess learns about the death of her beloved youngest son in the war, her life essentially ends; Having barely escaped insanity, she instantly ages and loses active interest in what is happening around her.

All the best Rostov qualities were passed on to the children, except for the dry, calculating and therefore unloved Vera. Having married Berg, she naturally moved from the category of “ordinary people” to the number of “wasters of life” and “Germans”. And also - except for the Rostovs’ pupil Sonya, who, despite all her kindness and sacrifice, turns out to be an “empty flower” and gradually, following Vera, slides from the rounded world of ordinary people into the plane of wasters of life.

Particularly touching is the youngest, Petya, who completely absorbed the atmosphere of the Rostov house. Like his father and mother, he is not very smart, but he is extremely sincere and sincere; this soulfulness is especially expressed in his musicality. Petya instantly gives in to the impulse of his heart; therefore, it is from his point of view that we look from the Moscow patriotic crowd at Emperor Alexander I and share his genuine youthful delight. Although we feel: the narrator’s attitude towards the emperor is not as clear as the young character. Petya's death from an enemy bullet is one of the most poignant and most memorable episodes of Tolstoy's epic.

But just as the people who live their lives, the leaders, have their own center, so do the ordinary people who populate the pages of War and Peace. This center is Nikolai Rostov and Marya Bolkonskaya, whose life lines, separated over three volumes, eventually still intersect, obeying the unwritten law of affinity.

“A short, curly-haired young man with an open expression,” he is distinguished by “impetuousness and enthusiasm.” Nikolai, as usual, is shallow (“he had that common sense of mediocrity that told him what should have been done,” the narrator says bluntly). But he is very emotional, impetuous, warm-hearted, and therefore musical, like all the Rostovs.

One of the key episodes of Nikolai Rostov’s storyline is the crossing of the Enns, and then being wounded in the arm during the Battle of Shengraben. Here the hero first encounters an insoluble contradiction in his soul; he, who considered himself a fearless patriot, suddenly discovers that he is afraid of death and that the very thought of death is absurd - him, whom “everyone loves so much.” This experience not only does not reduce the image of the hero, on the contrary: it is at that moment that his spiritual maturation occurs.

And yet it’s not for nothing that Nikolai likes it so much in the army and is so uncomfortable in everyday life. The regiment is a special world (another world in the middle of war), in which everything is arranged logically, simply, unambiguously. There are subordinates, there is a commander, and there is a commander of commanders - the Emperor, whom it is so natural and so pleasant to adore. And the life of civilians consists entirely of endless intricacies, of human sympathies and antipathies, clashes of private interests and common goals of the class. Arriving home on vacation, Rostov either gets confused in his relationship with Sonya, or loses completely to Dolokhov, which puts the family on the brink of financial disaster, and actually flees from ordinary life to the regiment, like a monk to his monastery. (He doesn’t seem to notice that the same rules apply in the army; when in the regiment he has to solve complex moral problems, for example, with officer Telyanin, who stole a wallet, Rostov is completely lost.)

Like any hero who claims in the novel space to have an independent line and actively participate in the development of the main intrigue, Nikolai is endowed with a love plot. He is a kind fellow, an honest man, and therefore, having made a youthful promise to marry the dowryless Sonya, he considers himself bound for the rest of his life. And no amount of persuasion from his mother, no hints from his loved ones about the need to find a rich bride can sway him. Moreover, his feeling for Sonya goes through different stages, then completely fading away, then returning again, then disappearing again.

Therefore, the most dramatic moment in Nikolai’s fate comes after the meeting in Bogucharovo. Here, during the tragic events of the summer of 1812, he accidentally meets Princess Marya Bolkonskaya, one of the richest brides in Russia, whom he would dream of marrying. Rostov selflessly helps the Bolkonskys get out of Bogucharov, and both of them, Nikolai and Marya, suddenly feel mutual attraction. But what is considered the norm among “life-lovers” (and most “ordinary people” too) turns out to be an almost insurmountable obstacle for them: she is rich, he is poor.

Only Sonya’s refusal of the word given to her by Rostov, and the power of natural feeling are able to overcome this obstacle; Having gotten married, Rostov and Princess Marya live in perfect harmony, just as Kitty and Levin will live in Anna Karenina. However, this is the difference between honest mediocrity and the impulse of truth-seeking, that the former does not know development, does not recognize doubts. As we have already noted, in the first part of the Epilogue, between Nikolai Rostov, on the one hand, Pierre Bezukhov and Nikolenka Bolkonsky, on the other, an invisible conflict is brewing, the line of which stretches into the distance, beyond the boundaries of the plot action.

Pierre, at the cost of new moral torment, new mistakes and new quests, is drawn into another turn in big history: he becomes a member of the early pre-Decembrist organizations. Nikolenka is completely on his side; it is not difficult to calculate that by the time of the uprising on Senate Square he will be a young man, most likely an officer, and with such a heightened sense of morality he will be on the side of the rebels. And the sincere, respectable, narrow-minded Nikolai, who has once and for all stopped developing, knows in advance that if anything happens he will shoot at the opponents of the legitimate ruler, his beloved sovereign...

Truth seekers. This is the most important of the categories; without truth-seeking heroes, there would be no epic “War and Peace” at all. Only two characters, two close friends, Andrei Bolkonsky and Pierre Bezukhov, have the right to claim this special title. They also cannot be called unconditionally positive; To create their images, the narrator uses a variety of colors, but it is precisely because of their ambiguity that they seem especially voluminous and bright.

Both of them, Prince Andrei and Count Pierre, are rich (Bolkonsky - initially, the illegitimate Bezukhov - after the sudden death of his father); smart, although in different ways. Bolkonsky's mind is cold and sharp; Bezukhov's mind is naive, but organic. Like many young people in the 1800s, they are in awe of Napoleon; a proud dream of a special role in world history, and therefore the conviction that it is the individual who controls the course of things, is equally inherent in both Bolkonsky and Bezukhov. From this common point, the narrator draws two very different storylines, which at first diverge very far, and then connect again, intersecting in the space of truth.

But this is where it turns out that they become truth-seekers against their will. Neither one nor the other is going to seek the truth, they do not strive for moral improvement, and at first they are sure that the truth is revealed to them in the form of Napoleon. They are pushed to an intense search for truth by external circumstances, and perhaps by Providence itself. It’s just that the spiritual qualities of Andrei and Pierre are such that each of them is able to answer the call of fate, to respond to its silent question; it is only because of this that they ultimately rise above the general level.

Prince Andrey. Bolkonsky is unhappy at the beginning of the book; he does not love his sweet but empty wife; is indifferent to the unborn child, and even after his birth does not show any special paternal feelings. The family “instinct” is as alien to him as the secular “instinct”; he cannot fall into the category of “ordinary” people for the same reasons that he cannot be among the “wasters of life.” But he not only could have broken into the number of elected “leaders,” but he would have really wanted to. Napoleon, we repeat again and again, is a life example and guide for him.

Having learned from Bilibin that the Russian army (this takes place in 1805) was in a hopeless situation, Prince Andrei was almost happy about the tragic news. “... It occurred to him that he was precisely destined to lead the Russian army out of this situation, that here he was, that Toulon, who would lead him out of the ranks of unknown officers and open for him the first path to glory!” (volume I, part two, chapter XII).

You already know how it ended; we analyzed the scene with the eternal sky of Austerlitz in detail. The truth reveals itself to Prince Andrey, without any effort on his part; he does not gradually come to the conclusion about the insignificance of all narcissistic heroes in the face of eternity - this conclusion appears to him immediately and in its entirety.

It would seem that Bolkonsky’s storyline is exhausted already at the end of the first volume, and the author has no choice but to declare the hero dead. And here, contrary to ordinary logic, the most important thing begins - the search for truth. Having accepted the truth immediately and in its entirety, Prince Andrei suddenly loses it and begins a painful, long search, taking a side road back to the feeling that once visited him on the field of Austerlitz.

Arriving home, where everyone thought he was dead, Andrei learns about the birth of his son and - soon - about the death of his wife: the little princess with a short upper lip disappears from his life horizon at the very moment when he is ready to finally open his heart to her! This news shocks the hero and awakens in him a feeling of guilt towards his dead wife; Having abandoned military service (along with a vain dream of personal greatness), Bolkonsky settles in Bogucharovo, takes care of the household, reads, and raises his son.

It would seem that he anticipates the path that Nikolai Rostov will take at the end of the fourth volume together with Andrei’s sister, Princess Marya. Compare for yourself the descriptions of the economic concerns of Bolkonsky in Bogucharovo and Rostov in Bald Mountains. You will be convinced of the non-random similarity and will discover another plot parallel. But this is the difference between the “ordinary” heroes of “War and Peace” and the truth-seekers, that the former stop where the latter continue their unstoppable movement.

Bolkonsky, having learned the truth of eternal heaven, thinks that it is enough to give up personal pride in order to find peace of mind. But in fact, village life cannot accommodate his unspent energy. And the truth, received as if as a gift, not personally suffered, not acquired as a result of long searches, begins to elude him. Andrei is languishing in the village, his soul seems to be drying up. Pierre, who arrived in Bogucharovo, is amazed at the terrible change that has occurred in his friend. Only for a moment does the prince awaken to a happy feeling of belonging to the truth - when for the first time after being wounded he pays attention to the eternal sky. And then a veil of hopelessness again obscures his life horizon.

What happened? Why does the author “doom” his hero to inexplicable torment? First of all, because the hero must independently “ripen” to the truth that was revealed to him by the will of Providence. Prince Andrei has a difficult job ahead of him; he will have to go through numerous trials before he regains his sense of unshakable truth. And from this moment on, Prince Andrei’s storyline becomes like a spiral: it goes to a new turn, repeating the previous stage of his fate at a more complex level. He is destined to fall in love again, again to indulge in ambitious thoughts, again to be disappointed in both love and thoughts. And finally, come to the truth again.

The third part of the second volume opens with a symbolic description of Prince Andrey's trip to the Ryazan estates. Spring is coming; When entering the forest, he notices an old oak tree on the edge of the road.

“Probably ten times older than the birches that made up the forest, it was ten times thicker and twice as tall as each birch. It was a huge oak tree, twice the girth, with branches that had been broken off for a long time and with broken bark overgrown with old sores. With his huge, clumsily, asymmetrically splayed, gnarled arms and fingers, he stood like an old, angry and contemptuous freak between the smiling birch trees. Only he alone did not want to submit to the charm of spring and did not want to see either spring or the sun.”

It is clear that in the image of this oak tree Prince Andrei himself is personified, whose soul does not respond to the eternal joy of renewed life, has become dead and extinguished. But on the affairs of the Ryazan estates, Bolkonsky must meet with Ilya Andreich Rostov - and, having spent the night in the Rostovs’ house, the prince again notices the bright, almost starless spring sky. And then he accidentally hears an excited conversation between Sonya and Natasha (volume II, part three, chapter II).

A feeling of love latently awakens in Andrei’s heart (although the hero himself does not understand this yet). Like a character in a folk tale, he seems to be sprinkled with living water - and on his way back, already in early June, the prince again sees an oak tree, personifying himself, and remembers the Austerlitz sky.

Returning to St. Petersburg, Bolkonsky becomes involved in social activities with renewed vigor; he believes that he is now driven not by personal vanity, not by pride, not by “Napoleonism,” but by a selfless desire to serve people, to serve the Fatherland. The young energetic reformer Speransky becomes his new hero and idol. Bolkonsky is ready to follow Speransky, who dreams of transforming Russia, in the same way as before he was ready to imitate Napoleon in everything, who wanted to throw the entire Universe at his feet.

But Tolstoy constructs the plot in such a way that the reader feels from the very beginning that something is not entirely right; Andrei sees a hero in Speransky, and the narrator sees another leader.

The judgment about the “insignificant seminarian” who holds the fate of Russia in his hands, of course, expresses the position of the enchanted Bolkonsky, who himself does not notice how he transfers the features of Napoleon to Speransky. And the mocking clarification - “as Bolkonsky thought” - comes from the narrator. Speransky’s “disdainful calmness” is noticed by Prince Andrei, and the arrogance of the “leader” (“from an immeasurable height...”) is noticed by the narrator.

In other words, Prince Andrei, in a new round of his biography, repeats the mistake of his youth; he is again blinded by the false example of someone else's pride, in which his own pride finds food. But here a significant meeting takes place in Bolkonsky’s life - he meets the same Natasha Rostova, whose voice on a moonlit night in the Ryazan estate brought him back to life. Falling in love is inevitable; matchmaking is a foregone conclusion. But since his stern father, old Bolkonsky, does not give consent to a quick marriage, Andrei is forced to go abroad and stop collaborating with Speransky, which could seduce him and entice him to his previous path. And the dramatic break with the bride after her failed escape with Kuragin completely pushes Prince Andrei, as it seems to him, to the margins of the historical process, to the outskirts of the empire. He is again under the command of Kutuzov.

But in fact, God continues to lead Bolkonsky in a special way, known to Him alone. Having overcome the temptation by the example of Napoleon, happily avoided the temptation by the example of Speransky, having again lost hope of family happiness, Prince Andrei repeats the “pattern” of his fate for the third time. Because, having fallen under the command of Kutuzov, he is imperceptibly charged with the quiet energy of the old wise commander, as before he was charged with the stormy energy of Napoleon and the cold energy of Speransky.

It is no coincidence that Tolstoy uses the folklore principle of testing the hero three times: after all, unlike Napoleon and Speransky, Kutuzov is truly close to the people and forms one whole with them. Until now, Bolkonsky was aware that he worshiped Napoleon, he guessed that he was secretly imitating Speransky. And the hero doesn’t even suspect that he follows Kutuzov’s example in everything. The spiritual work of self-education occurs in him hidden, latent.

Moreover, Bolkonsky is confident that the decision to leave Kutuzov’s headquarters and go to the front, to rush into the thick of the battles, comes to him spontaneously, of course. In fact, he adopts from the great commander a wise view of the purely popular nature of war, which is incompatible with court intrigues and the pride of the “leaders.” If the heroic desire to pick up the regimental banner on the field of Austerlitz was the “Toulon” of Prince Andrei, then the sacrificial decision to participate in the battles of the Patriotic War is, if you like, his “Borodino”, comparable on the small level of an individual human life with the great Battle of Borodino, morally won Kutuzov.

It is on the eve of the Battle of Borodino that Andrei meets Pierre; the third (again folklore number!) significant conversation takes place between them. The first took place in St. Petersburg (volume I, part one, chapter VI) - during it, Andrei for the first time dropped the mask of a contemptuous socialite and frankly told a friend that he was imitating Napoleon. During the second (volume II, part two, chapter XI), held in Bogucharovo, Pierre saw before him a man mournfully doubting the meaning of life, the existence of God, internally dead, having lost the incentive to move. This meeting with a friend became for Prince Andrei “the era from which, although in appearance it was the same, but in the inner world his new life began.”

And here is the third conversation (volume III, part two, chapter XXV). Having overcome their involuntary alienation, on the eve of the day when, perhaps, both of them will die, the friends again openly discuss the most subtle, most important topics. They do not philosophize - there is neither time nor energy for philosophizing; but every word they say, even a very unfair one (like Andrei’s opinion about the prisoners), is weighed on special scales. And Bolkonsky’s final passage sounds like a premonition of imminent death:

“Ah, my soul, lately it has become difficult for me to live. I see that I have begun to understand too much. But it is not good for a person to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil... Well, not for long! - he added.”

The wound on the Borodin field compositionally repeats the scene of Andrei's wound on the Austerlitz field; both there and here the truth is suddenly revealed to the hero. This truth is love, compassion, faith in God. (Here is another plot parallel.) But in the first volume we had a character to whom the truth appeared in spite of everything; Now we see Bolkonsky, who has managed to prepare himself to accept the truth at the cost of mental anguish and tossing. Please note: the last person Andrei sees on the Field of Austerlitz is the insignificant Napoleon, who seemed great to him; and the last person he sees on the Borodino field is his enemy, Anatol Kuragin, also seriously wounded... (This is another plot parallel that allows us to show how the hero has changed during the time that passed between three meetings.)

Andrey has a new date with Natasha ahead; last date. Moreover, the folklore principle of triple repetition “works” here too. For the first time Andrey hears Natasha (without seeing her) in Otradnoye. Then he falls in love with her during Natasha’s first ball (volume II, part three, chapter XVII), explains to her and proposes. And here is the wounded Bolkonsky in Moscow, near the Rostovs’ house, at the very moment when Natasha orders the carts to be given to the wounded. The meaning of this final meeting is forgiveness and reconciliation; having forgiven Natasha and reconciled with her, Andrei has finally comprehended the meaning of love and is therefore ready to part with earthly life... His death is depicted not as an irreparable tragedy, but as a solemnly sad result of his earthly career.

It is not for nothing that it is here that Tolstoy carefully introduces the theme of the Gospel into the fabric of his narrative.

We are already accustomed to the fact that the heroes of Russian literature of the second half of the 19th century often pick up this main book of Christianity, which tells about the earthly life, teaching and resurrection of Jesus Christ; Just remember Dostoevsky’s novel “Crime and Punishment.” However, Dostoevsky wrote about his own time, while Tolstoy turned to the events of the beginning of the century, when educated people from high society turned to the Gospel much less often. For the most part, they read Church Slavonic poorly, and rarely resorted to the French version; Only after the Patriotic War did work begin on translating the Gospel into living Russian. It was headed by the future Metropolitan of Moscow Filaret (Drozdov); The publication of the Russian Gospel in 1819 influenced many writers, including Pushkin and Vyazemsky.

Prince Andrey is destined to die in 1812; nevertheless, Tolstoy decided to radically violate chronology, and in Bolkonsky’s dying thoughts he placed quotes from the Russian Gospel: “The birds of the air do not sow or reap, but your Father feeds them...” Why? Yes, for the simple reason that Tolstoy wants to show: the wisdom of the Gospel entered Andrei’s soul, it became part of his own thoughts, he reads the Gospel as an explanation of his own life and his own death. If the writer had “forced” the hero to quote the Gospel in French or even in Church Slavonic, this would have immediately separated Bolkonsky’s inner world from the Gospel world. (In general, in the novel, the heroes speak French more often, the further they are from the national truth; Natasha Rostova generally utters only one line in French over the course of four volumes!) But Tolstoy’s goal is exactly the opposite: he seeks to forever connect the image of Andrei, who found the truth , with a Gospel theme.

Pierre Bezukhov. If the storyline of Prince Andrei is spiral-shaped, and each subsequent stage of his life in a new turn repeats the previous stage, then the storyline of Pierre - right up to the Epilogue - is similar to a narrowing circle with the figure of the peasant Platon Karataev in the center.

This circle at the beginning of the epic is immensely wide, almost like Pierre himself - “a massive, fat young man with a cropped head and glasses.” Like Prince Andrei, Bezukhov does not feel like a truth-seeker; he, too, considers Napoleon a great man and is content with the common idea that history is controlled by great men, heroes.

We meet Pierre at the very moment when, from an excess of vitality, he takes part in carousing and almost robbery (the story with the policeman). Life force is his advantage over the dead light (Andrei says that Pierre is the only “living person”). And this is his main problem, since Bezukhov does not know what to apply his heroic strength to, it is aimless, there is something Nozdrevsky in it. Pierre initially has special spiritual and mental needs (which is why he chooses Andrey as his friend), but they are scattered and do not take on a clear and distinct form.

Pierre is distinguished by energy, sensuality, reaching the point of passion, extreme artlessness and myopia (literally and figuratively); all this dooms Pierre to take rash steps. As soon as Bezukhov becomes the heir to a huge fortune, the “wasters of life” immediately entangle him in their networks, Prince Vasily marries Pierre to Helen. Of course, family life is not set; Pierre cannot accept the rules by which high-society “burners” live. And so, having parted ways with Helen, he for the first time consciously begins to look for the answer to the questions that torment him about the meaning of life, about the purpose of man.

“What’s wrong? What well? What should you love, what should you hate? Why live and what am I? What is life, what is death? What force controls everything? - he asked himself. And there was no answer to any of these questions, except one, not a logical answer, not to these questions at all. This answer was: “If you die, everything will end. You die and you’ll find out everything, or you’ll stop asking.” But it was scary to die” (volume II, part two, chapter I).

And then on his life’s path he meets the old Mason-mentor Osip Alekseevich. (Freemasons were members of religious and political organizations, “orders,” “lodges,” who set themselves the goal of moral self-improvement and intended to transform society and the state on this basis.) In the epic, the road along which Pierre travels serves as a metaphor for the path of life; Osip Alekseevich himself approaches Bezukhov at the postal station in Torzhok and starts a conversation with him about the mysterious destiny of man. From the genre shadow of the family-everyday novel we immediately move into the space of the novel of education; Tolstoy barely noticeably stylizes the “Masonic” chapters into novel prose of the late 18th - early 19th centuries. Thus, in the scene of Pierre’s acquaintance with Osip Alekseevich, much makes one remember the “Journey from St. Petersburg to Moscow” by A. N. Radishchev.

In Masonic conversations, conversations, reading and reflections, the same truth is revealed to Pierre that appeared on the field of Austerlitz to Prince Andrei (who, perhaps, also at some point went through the “Masonic art”; in a conversation with Pierre, Bolkonsky mockingly mentions gloves, which Masons receive before marriage for their chosen one). The meaning of life is not in heroic deeds, not in becoming a leader like Napoleon, but in serving people, feeling involved in eternity...

But the truth is just revealed, it sounds dull, like a distant echo. And gradually, more and more painfully, Bezukhov feels the deceit of the majority of Freemasons, the discrepancy between their petty social life and the proclaimed universal ideals. Yes, Osip Alekseevich forever remains a moral authority for him, but Freemasonry itself eventually ceases to meet Pierre’s spiritual needs. Moreover, the reconciliation with Helen, which he agreed to under Masonic influence, does not lead to anything good. And having taken a step in the social field in the direction set by the Freemasons, having started a reform in his estates, Pierre suffers an inevitable defeat: his impracticality, gullibility and lack of system doom the land experiment to failure.

The disappointed Bezukhov first turns into a good-natured shadow of his predatory wife; it seems that the pool of “life-lovers” is about to close over him. Then he again starts drinking, carousing, returns to the bachelor habits of his youth, and eventually moves from St. Petersburg to Moscow. You and I have noted more than once that in Russian literature of the 19th century, St. Petersburg was associated with the European center of official, political, and cultural life in Russia; Moscow - with a rustic, traditionally Russian habitat of retired nobles and lordly idlers. The transformation of Petersburger Pierre into a Muscovite is tantamount to his abandonment of any aspirations in life.

And here the tragic and Russia-cleansing events of the Patriotic War of 1812 are approaching. For Bezukhov they have a very special, personal meaning. After all, he has long been in love with Natasha Rostova, hopes of an alliance with whom were twice crossed out by his marriage to Helen and Natasha’s promise to Prince Andrei. Only after the story with Kuragin, in overcoming the consequences of which Pierre played a huge role, does he actually confess his love to Natasha (volume II, part five, chapter XXII).

It is no coincidence that immediately after the scene of explanation with Natasha Tolstaya, through the eyes of Pierre, he shows the famous comet of 1811, which foreshadowed the beginning of the war: “It seemed to Pierre that this star fully corresponded to what was in his blossoming to a new life, softened and encouraged soul.” The theme of national testing and the theme of personal salvation merge together in this episode.

Step by step, the stubborn author leads his beloved hero to comprehend two inextricably linked “truths”: the truth of sincere family life and the truth of national unity. Out of curiosity, Pierre goes to the Borodin field just on the eve of the great battle; observing, communicating with the soldiers, he prepares his mind and his heart to perceive the thought that Bolkonsky will express to him during their last Borodin conversation: the truth is where they are, ordinary soldiers, ordinary Russian people.

The views that Bezukhov professed at the beginning of War and Peace are turned upside down; Previously, he saw in Napoleon the source of the historical movement; now he sees in him the source of transhistorical evil, the embodiment of the Antichrist. And he is ready to sacrifice himself to save humanity. The reader must understand: Pierre’s spiritual path has only been completed to the middle; the hero has not yet “grown up” to the point of view of the narrator, who is convinced (and convinces the reader) that the matter is not about Napoleon at all, that the French emperor is just a toy in the hands of Providence. But the experiences that befell Bezukhov in French captivity, and most importantly, his acquaintance with Platon Karataev, will complete the work that has already begun in him.

During the execution of prisoners (a scene that refutes Andrei’s cruel arguments during Borodin’s last conversation), Pierre himself recognizes himself as an instrument in the wrong hands; his life and his death do not really depend on him. And communication with a simple peasant, a “rounded” soldier of the Absheron regiment Platon Karataev, finally reveals to him the prospect of a new philosophy of life. The purpose of a person is not to become a bright personality, separate from all other personalities, but to reflect the people’s life in its entirety, to become a part of the universe. Only then can you feel truly immortal:

“Ha, ha, ha! - Pierre laughed. And he said out loud to himself: “The soldier didn’t let me in.” They caught me, they locked me up. They are holding me captive. Who me? Me? Me - my immortal soul! Ha, ha, ha!.. Ha, ha, ha!.. - he laughed with tears welling up in his eyes... Pierre looked into the sky, into the depths of the receding, playing stars. “And all this is mine, and all this is in me, and all this is me!..” (volume IV, part two, chapter XIV).

It is not for nothing that these reflections of Pierre sound almost like folk poetry; they emphasize and strengthen the internal, irregular rhythm:

The soldier didn't let me in.
They caught me, they locked me up.
They are holding me captive.
Who me? Me?

The truth sounds like a folk song, and the sky into which Pierre directs his gaze makes the attentive reader remember the ending of the third volume, the appearance of the comet, and, most importantly, the sky of Austerlitz. But the difference between the Austerlitz scene and the experience that visited Pierre in captivity is fundamental. Andrei, as we already know, at the end of the first volume comes face to face with the truth, contrary to his own intentions. He just has a long, roundabout way to get to her. And Pierre comprehends it for the first time as a result of painful quests.

But there is nothing final in Tolstoy’s epic. Remember when we said that Pierre’s storyline only seems circular, and that if you look at the Epilogue, the picture will change somewhat? Now read the episode of Bezukhov’s arrival from St. Petersburg and especially the scene of the conversation in the office with Nikolai Rostov, Denisov and Nikolenka Bolkonsky (Chapters XIV-XVI of the first Epilogue). Pierre, the same Pierre Bezukhov, who has already comprehended the fullness of the national truth, who has renounced personal ambitions, again starts talking about the need to correct social ills, about the need to counter the government’s mistakes. It is not difficult to guess that he became a member of the early Decembrist societies and that a new storm began to swell on the historical horizon of Russia.

Natasha, with her feminine instincts, guesses the question that the narrator himself would clearly like to ask Pierre:

“Do you know what I’m thinking about? - she said, - about Platon Karataev. How is he? Would he approve of you now?..

No, I wouldn’t approve,” Pierre said after thinking. - What he would approve of is our family life. He so wanted to see beauty, happiness, tranquility in everything, and I would be proud to show him us.”

What happens? Has the hero begun to evade the acquired and hard-won truth? And is the “average”, “ordinary” person Nikolai Rostov right, who speaks with disapproval of the plans of Pierre and his new comrades? Does this mean Nikolai is now closer to Platon Karataev than Pierre himself?

Yes and no. Yes, because Pierre, undoubtedly, deviates from the “rounded”, family-oriented, national peaceful ideal, and is ready to join the “war”. Yes, because he had already gone through the temptation of striving for the public good in his Masonic period, and through the temptation of personal ambitions - at the moment when he “counted” the number of the beast in the name of Napoleon and convinced himself that it was he, Pierre, who was destined to rid humanity of this villain. No, because the entire epic “War and Peace” is permeated with a thought that Rostov is unable to comprehend: we are not free in our desires, in our choice, to participate or not to participate in historical upheavals.

Pierre is much closer than Rostov to this nerve of history; among other things, Karataev taught him by his example to submit to circumstances, to accept them as they are. By joining a secret society, Pierre moves away from the ideal and, in a certain sense, returns several steps back in his development, but not because he wants it, but because he cannot evade the objective course of things. And, perhaps, having partially lost the truth, he will come to know it even more deeply at the end of his new path.

That is why the epic ends with a global historiosophical argument, the meaning of which is formulated in its last phrase: “it is necessary to abandon the perceived freedom and recognize the dependence that we do not feel.”

Sages. You and I talked about people who live their lives, about leaders, about ordinary people, about truth-seekers. But there is another category of heroes in War and Peace, the opposite of the leaders. These are the sages. That is, characters who have comprehended the truth of national life and set an example for other heroes seeking the truth. These are, first of all, Staff Captain Tushin, Platon Karataev and Kutuzov.

Staff Captain Tushin first appears in the scene of the Battle of Shengraben; We see him first through the eyes of Prince Andrei - and this is no coincidence. If circumstances had turned out differently and Bolkonsky had been internally prepared for this meeting, it could have played the same role in his life as the meeting with Platon Karataev played in Pierre’s life. However, alas, Andrey is still blinded by the dream of his own Toulon. Having defended Tushin (volume I, part two, chapter XXI), when he guiltily remains silent in front of Bagration and does not want to betray his boss, Prince Andrei does not understand that behind this silence lies not servility, but an understanding of the hidden ethics of people's life. Bolkonsky is not yet ready to meet “his Karataev.”

“A small, stooped man,” commander of an artillery battery, Tushin makes a very favorable impression on the reader from the very beginning; external awkwardness only sets off his undoubted natural intelligence. It is not for nothing that, when characterizing Tushin, Tolstoy resorts to his favorite technique, drawing attention to the hero’s eyes, this is the mirror of the soul: “Silent and smiling, Tushin, stepping from bare foot to foot, looked questioningly with large, smart and kind eyes...” (vol. I, part two, chapter XV).

But why does the author pay attention to such an insignificant figure, and in a scene that immediately follows the chapter dedicated to Napoleon himself? The guess does not come to the reader right away. Only when he reaches Chapter XX does the image of the staff captain gradually begin to grow to symbolic proportions.

“Little Tushin with a straw bitten to one side”, along with his battery, was forgotten and left without cover; he practically does not notice this, because he is completely absorbed in the common cause and feels himself an integral part of the entire people. On the eve of the battle, this little awkward man spoke of the fear of death and complete uncertainty about eternal life; now he is transforming before our eyes.

The narrator shows this little man in close-up: “... He had his own fantastic world established in his head, which was his pleasure at that moment. The enemy’s guns in his imagination were not guns, but pipes, from which an invisible smoker released smoke in rare puffs.” At this second, it is not the Russian and French armies that are confronting each other; Opposing each other are little Napoleon, who imagines himself great, and little Tushin, who has risen to true greatness. The staff captain is not afraid of death, he is only afraid of his superiors, and immediately becomes timid when a staff colonel appears at the battery. Then (Chapter XXI) Tushin cordially helps all the wounded (including Nikolai Rostov).

In the second volume we will once again meet with Staff Captain Tushin, who lost his arm in the war.

Both Tushin and another Tolstoy sage, Platon Karataev, are endowed with the same physical properties: they are small in stature, they have similar characters: they are affectionate and good-natured. But Tushin feels himself an integral part of the general life of the people only in the midst of war, and in peaceful circumstances he is a simple, kind, timid and very ordinary person. And Plato is always involved in this life, in any circumstances. And in war and especially in a state of peace. Because he carries peace in his soul.

Pierre meets Plato at a difficult moment in his life - in captivity, when his fate hangs by a thread and depends on many accidents. The first thing that catches his eye (and strangely calms him down) is Karataev’s roundness, the harmonious combination of external and internal appearance. In Plato, everything is round - the movements, the way of life that he creates around him, and even the homely smell. The narrator, with his characteristic persistence, repeats the words “round”, “rounded” as often as in the scene on the Field of Austerlitz he repeated the word “sky”.

During the Battle of Shengraben, Andrei Bolkonsky was not ready to meet “his Karataev,” staff captain Tushin. And Pierre, by the time of the Moscow events, had matured enough to learn a lot from Plato. And above all, a true attitude towards life. That is why Karataev “remained forever in Pierre’s soul as the strongest and dearest memory and personification of everything Russian, kind and round.” After all, on the way back from Borodino to Moscow, Bezukhov had a dream, during which he heard a voice:

“War is the most difficult task of subordinating human freedom to the laws of God,” said the voice. - Simplicity is submission to God; you cannot escape Him. And they are simple. They don't talk, but they do. The spoken word is silver, and the unspoken word is golden. A person cannot own anything while he is afraid of death. And whoever is not afraid of her belongs to him everything... To unite everything? - Pierre said to himself. - No, don't connect. You cannot connect thoughts, but connecting all these thoughts is what you need! Yes, we need to mate, we need to mate!” (volume III, part three, chapter IX).

Platon Karataev is the embodiment of this dream; everything is connected in him, he is not afraid of death, he thinks in proverbs, which summarize centuries-old folk wisdom - it is not for nothing that Pierre hears in his dreams the proverb “The spoken word is silver, and the unspoken is golden.”

Can Platon Karataev be called a bright personality? No way. On the contrary: he is not a person at all, because he does not have his own special, separate from the people, spiritual needs, no aspirations and desires. For Tolstoy he is more than a person; he is a piece of the people's soul. Karataev does not remember his own words spoken a minute ago, since he does not think in the usual meaning of this word. That is, he does not organize his reasoning in a logical chain. It’s just that, as modern people would say, his mind is connected to the general consciousness of the people, and Plato’s judgments reproduce the personal wisdom of the people.

Karataev does not have a “special” love for people - he treats all living beings equally lovingly. And to the master Pierre, and to the French soldier who ordered Plato to sew a shirt, and to the wobbly dog ​​that clung to him. Not being a person, he does not see the personalities around him; everyone he meets is the same particle of a single universe as he himself. Death or separation therefore has no meaning for him; Karataev is not upset when he learns that the person with whom he became close has suddenly disappeared - after all, nothing changes from this! The eternal life of the people continues, and its constant presence will be revealed in every new person they meet.

The main lesson that Bezukhov learns from his communication with Karataev, the main quality that he strives to adopt from his “teacher”, is voluntary dependence on the eternal life of the people. Only it gives a person a real sense of freedom. And when Karataev, having fallen ill, begins to lag behind the column of prisoners and is shot like a dog, Pierre is not too upset. Karataev’s individual life is over, but the eternal, national life in which he is involved continues, and there will be no end to it. That is why Tolstoy completes Karataev’s storyline with the second dream of Pierre, who was seen by the captive Bezukhov in the village of Shamshevo:

And suddenly Pierre introduced himself to a living, long-forgotten, gentle old teacher who taught Pierre geography in Switzerland... he showed Pierre a globe. This globe was a living, oscillating ball that had no dimensions. The entire surface of the ball consisted of drops tightly compressed together. And these drops all moved, moved and then merged from several into one, then from one they were divided into many. Each drop sought to spread out, to capture the greatest possible space, but others, striving for the same thing, compressed it, sometimes destroyed it, sometimes merged with it.

This is life, said the old teacher...

In the middle is God, and every drop strives to expand in order to reflect Him in the greatest possible size... Here he is, Karataev, overflowed and disappeared” (volume IV, part three, chapter XV).

The metaphor of life as a “liquid oscillating ball” made up of individual drops combines all the symbolic images of “War and Peace” that we talked about above: the spindle, the clockwork, and the anthill; a circular movement connecting everything to everything - this is Tolstoy’s idea of ​​the people, of history, of the family. The meeting of Platon Karataev brings Pierre closer to understanding this truth.

From the image of Staff Captain Tushin we rose, as if a step up, to the image of Platon Karataev. But from Plato in the space of the epic one more step leads upward. The image of People's Field Marshal Kutuzov is raised here to an unattainable height. This old man, gray-haired, fat, walking heavily, with a face disfigured by a wound, towers over both Captain Tushin and even Platon Karataev. He consciously comprehended the truth of the nationality, which they perceived instinctively, and elevated it to the principle of his life and his military leadership.

The main thing for Kutuzov (unlike all the leaders led by Napoleon) is to deviate from a personal proud decision, to guess the correct course of events and not to interfere with their development according to God's will, in truth. We first meet him in the first volume, in the scene of the review near Brenau. Before us is an absent-minded and cunning old man, an old campaigner, who is distinguished by an “affection of respect.” We immediately understand that the mask of an unreasoning servant, which Kutuzov puts on when approaching the ruling people, especially the tsar, is just one of the many ways of his self-defense. After all, he cannot, must not allow these self-righteous persons to really interfere in the course of events, and therefore he is obliged to affectionately evade their will, without contradicting it in words. So he will avoid the battle with Napoleon during the Patriotic War.

Kutuzov, as he appears in the battle scenes of the third and fourth volumes, is not a doer, but a contemplator; he is convinced that victory requires not intelligence, not a scheme, but “something else, independent of intelligence and knowledge.” And above all, “it takes patience and time.” The old commander has both in abundance; he is endowed with the gift of “calm contemplation of the course of events” and sees his main purpose in not doing harm. That is, listen to all the reports, all the main considerations: support the useful ones (that is, those that agree with the natural course of things), reject the harmful ones.

And the main secret that Kutuzov comprehended, as he is depicted in “War and Peace,” is the secret of maintaining the national spirit, the main force in the fight against any enemy of the Fatherland.

That is why this old, weak, voluptuous man personifies Tolstoy’s idea of ​​an ideal politician who has comprehended the main wisdom: the individual cannot influence the course of historical events and must renounce the idea of ​​freedom in favor of the idea of ​​necessity. Tolstoy “instructs” Bolkonsky to express this thought: watching Kutuzov after his appointment as commander-in-chief, Prince Andrei reflects: “He will have nothing of his own... He understands that there is something stronger and more significant than his will - this is the inevitable course of events ... And the main thing ... is that he is Russian, despite the novel by Zhanlis and French sayings" (volume III, part two, chapter XVI).

Without the figure of Kutuzov, Tolstoy would not have solved one of the main artistic tasks of his epic: to contrast the “false form of the European hero, supposedly controlling people, which history has come up with,” with the “simple, modest and therefore truly majestic figure” of the people’s hero, which will never settle into this "false form"

Natasha Rostova. If we translate the typology of epic heroes into the traditional language of literary terms, an internal pattern will naturally emerge. The world of everyday life and the world of lies are opposed by dramatic and epic characters. The dramatic characters of Pierre and Andrey are full of internal contradictions, always in motion and development; the epic characters of Karataev and Kutuzov amaze with their integrity. But in the portrait gallery created by Tolstoy in War and Peace, there is a character that does not fit into any of the listed categories. This is the lyrical character of the main character of the epic, Natasha Rostova.

Does she belong to the “life-wasters”? It is impossible to even imagine this. With her sincerity, with her heightened sense of justice! Does she belong to “ordinary people”, like her relatives, the Rostovs? In many ways, yes; and yet it is not without reason that both Pierre and Andrei seek her love, are drawn to her, and stand out from the crowd. At the same time, you can’t call her a truth-seeker. No matter how much we re-read the scenes in which Natasha acts, we will not find anywhere a hint of the search for a moral ideal, truth, truth. And in the Epilogue, after marriage, she even loses the brightness of her temperament, the spirituality of her appearance; baby diapers replace what Pierre and Andrei give to reflection on the truth and the purpose of life.

Like the rest of the Rostovs, Natasha is not endowed with a sharp mind; when in chapter XVII of part four of the last volume, and then in the Epilogue we see her next to the emphatically intelligent woman Marya Bolkonskaya-Rostova, this difference is especially striking. Natasha, as the narrator emphasizes, simply “didn’t deign to be smart.” But she is endowed with something else, which for Tolstoy is more important than the abstract mind, more important even than truth-seeking: the instinct of knowing life through experience. It is this inexplicable quality that brings Natasha’s image very close to the “sages”, primarily to Kutuzov, despite the fact that in all other respects she is closer to ordinary people. It is simply impossible to “attribute” it to one particular category: it does not obey any classification, it breaks out beyond any definition.

Natasha, “dark-eyed, with a big mouth, ugly, but alive,” is the most emotional of all the characters in the epic; That’s why she is the most musical of all Rostovs. The element of music lives not only in her singing, which everyone around recognizes as wonderful, but also in Natasha’s voice itself. Remember, Andrei’s heart trembled for the first time when he heard Natasha’s conversation with Sonya on a moonlit night, without seeing the girls talking. Natasha's singing heals brother Nikolai, who falls into despair after losing 43 thousand, which ruined the Rostov family.

From the same emotional, sensitive, intuitive root grow both her egoism, fully revealed in the story with Anatoly Kuragin, and her selflessness, which is manifested both in the scene with carts for the wounded in burning Moscow, and in the episodes where she is shown caring for a dying man Andrey, how he cares for his mother, shocked by the news of Petya’s death.

And the main gift that is given to her and which raises her above all other heroes of the epic, even the best, is a special gift of happiness. They all suffer, suffer, seek the truth, or, like the impersonal Platon Karataev, affectionately possess it. Only Natasha unselfishly enjoys life, feels its feverish pulse and generously shares her happiness with everyone around her. Her happiness is in her naturalness; That’s why the narrator so harshly contrasts the scene of Natasha Rostova’s first ball with the episode of her meeting and falling in love with Anatoly Kuragin. Please note: this acquaintance takes place in the theater (volume II, part five, chapter IX). That is, where play and pretense reign. This is not enough for Tolstoy; he forces the epic narrator to “descend” down the steps of emotions, use sarcasm in descriptions of what is happening, and strongly emphasize the idea of ​​​​the unnatural atmosphere in which Natasha’s feelings for Kuragin arise.

It is not for nothing that the most famous comparison of “War and Peace” is attributed to the lyrical heroine, Natasha. At that moment when Pierre, after a long separation, meets Rostova together with Princess Marya, he does not recognize Natasha - and suddenly “the face, with attentive eyes, with difficulty, with effort, like a rusty door opening, - smiled, and from this open door suddenly it smelled and doused Pierre with forgotten happiness... It smelled, enveloped and absorbed him all” (volume IV, part four, chapter XV).

But Natasha’s true calling, as Tolstoy shows in the Epilogue (and unexpectedly for many readers), was revealed only in motherhood. Having gone into children, she realizes herself in them and through them; and this is no accident: after all, the family for Tolstoy is the same cosmos, the same holistic and saving world, like the Christian faith, like the life of the people.

Russian troops, having retreated from Borodino, stood at Fili. A huge number of people gather at the headquarters, everyone is discussing how to act, there is no agreement, everyone is trying to say something different. Kutuzov, listening to all these opinions, becomes more and more worried and sad. “From all the conversations of these Kutuzov, he saw one thing: there was no physical possibility to defend Moscow in the full meaning of these words, that is, there was no possibility to such an extent that if some crazy commander-in-chief had given the order to give battle, then confusion would have occurred and There wouldn’t have been a battle after all.” Bennigsen insists on defending Moscow, since in case of failure he can always blame Kutuzov, and in case of victory he can take all the credit for himself. Kutuzov leaves headquarters. The next day the meeting continues. In one of the huts, Kutuzov and the other generals are waiting for Bennigsen, who was “finishing his delicious dinner under the pretext of a new inspection of the positions.” They've been waiting for him for two hours. Finally, Bennigsen appears and again begins to speak about the need to protect Moscow. However, Kutuzov makes a strong-willed decision and orders a retreat. At night, Kutuzov suffers, cannot sleep, says that he did not expect that he would have to leave Moscow, and then shouts out: “They will eat horse meat like the Turks!”

The same thing happened in Moscow as in Smolensk. The people carelessly waited for the enemy to approach, but at the very last moment they found the strength to do what was necessary. “The rich people left, leaving their property, the poorest stayed and set fire and destroyed what was left.” Residents are leaving Moscow despite Rostopchin's posters and appeals that he will gather a militia, that balloons will destroy the French, and so on. Everyone fled because “there was no question whether it would be good or bad under the rule of the French, it was impossible to be under the rule of the French, and everyone understood this.”

Helen returns with the court from Vilna to St. Petersburg, where she finds herself in a somewhat difficult situation. The fact is that she enjoyed the patronage of a certain nobleman who occupied one of the most prominent positions in the state, and in Vilna she became close to a young foreign prince. Now they both found themselves in St. Petersburg and both presented their rights. Helen got out of it very simply: she neither made excuses nor was cunning, but went ahead, declaring at the first reproaches of the nobleman that the selfishness and cruelty of men were to blame for everything and that no one had the right to demand an account of her affections and friendly feelings from her. Helen adds: “Marry me,” although she understands that this is impossible. Helen converts to Catholicism, and, according to rumors, even the Pope should find out about her and send her some kind of paper. Helen was cunning and understood perfectly well that “her conversion to Catholicism had its main goal of squeezing money out of her for the benefit of Jesuit institutions.” But Helen set a condition before giving money - to free her from her husband. Helen is also trying to put pressure on her second lover, telling him the same thing as the first - the only way to gain rights to her is to marry her. And it worked. “If even the slightest signs of hesitation, shame or secrecy had been noticeable in Helen herself, then her cause would undoubtedly have been lost; but not only were there no these signs of secrecy and shame, but, on the contrary, she, with simplicity and good-natured naivety, told her close friends (and this was all of Petersburg) that both the prince and the nobleman had proposed to her, and that she loved both and was afraid upset both of them. Rumors are spreading throughout St. Petersburg, everyone is talking about which of the two contenders for Helen’s hand is better, that is, the question of a husband and divorce is no longer in the public consciousness - Helen’s calculation turned out to be correct. When asked by Helen which of the two to prefer, everyone gives different advice, diplomat Bilibin, who was one of the regulars at Countess Bezukhova’s salon, replies that it is better to marry the old nobleman count, who may soon die, and then it will not be humiliating for the prince to marry the widow of a high-ranking statesman. Helen's mother tries to convince her that religion does not allow her to get married while her husband is alive, to which Helen replies that religious prejudices are nonsense and that her position in the world means much more. She writes a letter to Pierre, where she announces her intention to get married, asks him to settle all formalities with the divorce and hand over the papers to the bearer of this letter. A letter is delivered to Pierre at his Moscow address just when he is on the Borodino field.

After the battle, Pierre wanders for a long time, some soldiers help him find his own. Pierre falls asleep and has a dream in which he tries to find answers to the questions that torment him - about war and peace, about life and death, duty and feeling. The next day, Pierre returns to Moscow and immediately meets Rostopchin’s adjutant, who reports that Rostopchin wants to see him. Pierre and with him several other influential persons go to the commander-in-chief: everyone is gathering with him, having learned about the intention to surrender Moscow. Everyone is indignant, trying to relieve themselves of responsibility for the retreat. Some propose to fight the French in the city, not to give up a single piece of land; Pierre objects that the military people told him that there was no way to fight in the city and that the position was bad. Rostopchin continues to distribute posters in which, in a language incomprehensible to the people, although stylized as folk speech, he tries to call for the defense of Moscow. Pierre learns that many of his fellow Masons have been arrested under the pretext that they were distributing French proclamations. Pierre tries to argue that their guilt has not been proven, but no one listens to him. Pierre comes home, people come to him, he opens letters, finds out that Prince Andrei has been killed, that Helen is getting married, and so on. In the morning, Pierre, despite the fact that ten people were waiting for him in the living room, went out through the back door and left the house. “From then until the end of the Moscow devastation, none of the Bezukhovs’ household, despite all the searches, saw Pierre again and did not know where he was.”

The Rostovs remained in the city until the eve of the enemy’s entry into Moscow. The Countess worries about her two sons, who are in the army. Due to the count's usual carelessness, all preparations were postponed until the last day.

From August 28 to August 31, all of Moscow is on the move, conflicting rumors are creeping around the city, residents are leaving Moscow. The Rostovs' youngest son, Petya, arrives and helps the needles gather. The Rostovs also receive a letter from Nicholas, in which he reports about his unusual meeting with Princess Marya. The Countess secretly rejoices, realizing that this would be a worthy match for his son, and at the same time an opportunity to improve their affairs. Natasha is cheerful, this mainly comes from the fact that "she was in a depressed mood and sad for too long." Natasha sees a convoy with wounded on the street and asks the officer if the wounded can stay in their house. After fiddling around with packing things for quite a long time, Sonya, Natasha and the others realize that they can’t cope and stay overnight in the house. At night, a new wounded man is brought in, who turns out to be Andrei Bolkonsky. The next day, Berg, who is still serving in a “peaceful and pleasant place,” comes to the Rostovs; he talks about the heroism of Russian soldiers. The count and the countess have a quarrel because the count wants to give away part of the carts for the wounded, and the countess insists that they need to take out goods, of which they don’t have too much left anyway. Natasha, having learned about this, reproaches her mother and insists that the carts be given back, and the wounded, who were housed in their house, begin to be loaded onto these carts. Sonya sees the carriage in which Prince Andrei is being transported and recognizes him. She informs the Countess, who begs her not to tell Natasha about this. The Rostovs set off, Natasha looks out the window, chatting animatedly with her family. Suddenly he notices Pierre, who is walking, dressed in a coachman's caftan, along with some old man. Natasha asks Pierre if he is going somewhere. Pierre replies that he remains in Moscow. Pierre talks absentmindedly, looking completely immersed in his thoughts.

Napoleon is on Poklonnaya Hill, Moscow stretches out in front of him. He thinks that his long-standing, seemingly impossible wish has come true, that this great city lies at his feet. Napoleon thinks that “from the heights of the Kremlin I will give them the laws of justice, I will show them the meaning of true civilization, I will force generations of boyars to lovingly remember the name of their conqueror... On the ancient monuments of barbarism and despotism I will write great words of justice and mercy. ..” Napoleon goes to breakfast, thinking about how he will shower favors on the “Russian boyars”, he mentally already appointed a governor who would be able to attract the population to himself, “he thought that, just like in Africa, he had to sit in a burnous in a mosque, so in Moscow one had to be merciful, like the kings.” Napoleon is waiting for a deputation from the city that would invite him to Moscow. Without waiting for the deputation, Napoleon gives a sign, and the troops enter the city. Moscow is empty. Napoleon is amazed by this news; it seems incredible to him. He does not go to the city, but stops at an inn in the Dorogomilovsky suburb.

Just before the enemy enters Moscow, riots begin. The factory workers and other people still remaining in the city go out into the streets. Near the walls of Kitai-gorod they read another Rostopchin poster, which is now called a decree. The people do not understand what is being read to them.

Rostopchin is annoyed that Kutuzov does not take into account his opinion, that despite his proposal to defend Moscow to the last drop of blood, the population is leaving the city. For some time they still come to Rostopchin for orders, but when the retreating troops begin to pass through the city, they stop doing this. A crowd gathers in front of the city government, demanding something from the authorities. Rostopchin orders to bring one of the arrested masons, Vereshchagin, who once inflicted a personal insult on Rostopchin. Rostopchin takes Vereshchagin out onto the porch and says that this man is a traitor, that he sold himself to Bonaparte, etc., etc. Then he orders him to “beat, chop” him. After some hesitation, the people attack Vereshchagin. Several people were run over and some were beaten by mistake. Vereshchagin is beaten to death. Rostopchin, “pale and shocked, with a shaking lower jaw,” leaves. Having driven some distance, Rostopchin begins to repent: “he now recalled with displeasure the excitement and fear that he had shown in front of his subordinates.” In the end, he calmed down with the thought that at all times people killed each other, and nothing terrible happened. On the way, Rostopchin comes across a holy fool who screams about the torment of the cross, about torn bodies, and so on. This makes a strong impression on Rostopchin; he remembers his crime, realizing that he will never be able to forget about it.

The French enter the city. Several people try to resist them at the Kremlin gates, but to no avail - they are shot from cannons. French commanders are trying to prohibit troops from dispersing around the city, to stop violence and looting. But their efforts are in vain, and looting begins throughout the city. Subsequently, the fire of Moscow was attributed by the Russians to the French, and by the French to the Russians. But it’s neither one nor the other’s fault. “Moscow burned down due to the fact that it was placed in such conditions under which every wooden city should burn down.”

Pierre left home, disguised and armed with a pistol, to take part in the people's defense of Moscow. Then Pierre remembers the Kabbalistic meaning of his name (the number 666, etc.) in connection with the name of Bonaparte and that it was he who was destined to put a limit to the power of the “beast.” Pierre is going to kill Napoleon, even if he has to sacrifice his own life. “Two equally strong feelings irresistibly attracted Pierre to his intention. The first was a feeling of the need for sacrifice and suffering in the consciousness of general misfortune... the other was that vague, exclusively Russian feeling of contempt for everything conventional, artificial... for everything that is considered by most people to be the highest good of the world... He suddenly felt that wealth and power, and life, everything that people arrange and preserve with such diligence - all this, if it is worth anything, is only because of the pleasure with which it can all be thrown away.” Pierre is in his empty house, sleeps without undressing, eats the coarsest food, and all this keeps Pierre “in a state of irritation close to insanity.”

The French come to Pierre's house in order to inspect the rooms and place the soldiers. Pierre's servant, drunk and drunk, tries to shoot at the French officer, but Pierre knocks the pistol away from him, and he misses. The Frenchman thanks Pierre. Pierre persuades the French officer to leave this act of an “insane and drunken man” without punishment. The officer, whose name was Rambal, generously forgives the servant and invites Pierre to dinner, during which, in a conversation, he highly praises the courage of the Russian soldiers and the fortitude of the Russian people. Pierre says that he was in Paris, the Frenchman begins to remember his homeland, Pierre is disgusted by the Frenchman's chatter, he wants to leave, but he cannot. The Frenchman, meanwhile, offers him his friendship, tells “with the easy and naive frankness of a Frenchman” the history of his ancestors, his childhood, adolescence and manhood, all his kinship, property, and family relationships. Then he starts talking about women. “Despite the fact that all of Rambal’s love stories had that dirty character in which the French see the exceptional charm and poetry of love, the captain told all his stories with such sincere conviction that he alone experienced and knew all the delights of love, and described women so temptingly that Pierre listened to him with curiosity." Ramball talks about his latest passion in Poland, about how the object of his affections long and painfully chose between duty and passion. Pierre remembers Natasha and begins to respond to the Frenchman by telling him that all his life he has loved and loves only one woman and that this woman can never belong to him. Pierre says that “he loved this woman from a very young age, but did not dare to think about her, because she was too young, and he was an illegitimate son without a name. Then, when he received name and wealth, he did not dare to think about her, because he loved her too much, placed her too high above the whole world and therefore, even more so, above himself.” The Frenchman does not understand, calls it a platonic feeling, but what is most striking from Pierre’s story to the captain is that Pierre was very rich, that he had two palaces in Moscow, that he gave up everything and did not leave Moscow, but remained in the city, hiding his name and title. At night, Pierre and the Frenchman go out into the street, Pierre sees the beauty and tranquility surrounding him, but suddenly remembers his intention to kill Napoleon, he feels unwell, he goes into the house and after a while falls asleep.

The Rostov convoy reaches Mytishchi. At night, people notice the glow of a fire over Moscow. This makes a terrible impression on the Count, Natasha and Countess; the Countess cries. Natasha already knows that Prince Andrei is here. In the morning, when they told her about the wound and the presence of Prince Andrei, she decided that she should see him. At night, when her parents fall asleep, Natasha leaves the room and, in fear of what kind of Prince Andrei she will see - mutilated, motionless - she goes to where the wounded are located. Natasha finds Prince Andrei's bed, kneels in front of it, and Andrei extends his hand to her.

Seven days have passed since Bolkonsky was wounded, during which he was almost constantly unconscious. On the seventh day he feels better, but the doctor notes this with some displeasure, because he knows that it is impossible to survive with Prince Andrei’s wound and that if he does not die now, he will die a little later, but with even greater torment. Andrei asks Timokhin, the major of his regiment, who is also wounded, if it is possible to get the Gospel, then again falls into unconsciousness and only repeats that they give him the Gospel. The doctor is surprised how Prince Andrey endures it, because he knows that the pain must be terrible. In the intervals between unconsciousness, Andrei reflects on his life, understands that “a new happiness has been revealed to him, inseparable from a person... happiness that is outside of material forces, outside of material external influences on a person, the happiness of one soul, the happiness of love. Every person can understand it, but only God could recognize and prescribe it.” Prince Andrei understands that “this is not the love that loves for something, for something or for some reason, but the love that he experienced for the first time when, dying, he saw his enemy (Anatole) and that’s all.” “I still loved him.” He understands that true love is to love everything around him, all living things, to love God in all manifestations. “You can love a dear person with human love; but only an enemy can be loved with divine love.” He remembers Natasha and “for the first time I realized the cruelty of my refusal, I saw the cruelty of my break with her.” At this moment, Prince Andrei sees Natasha, who approaches him, understands that this is a real, living Natasha. She asks to forgive her, Andrei replies that he loves her. “From that day, during the entire further journey of the Rostovs, at all rests and overnight stays, Natasha did not leave the wounded Bolkonsky, and the doctor had to admit that he did not expect from the girl either such firmness or such art of walking after the wounded.”

Pierre wakes up in his house, remembers his intention, takes a pistol and leaves for the city. - A fire is burning in Moscow. On the road he comes across a woman with several children, who, sobbing, screams that their youngest daughter was left in a burning house. Her husband, an official, does not know what to do. Pierre volunteers to help. The servant girl takes Pierre to the burning house. Nearby, the French are looting, breaking down doors, robbing residents of property. It is impossible to approach the house - it is completely engulfed in flames. Pierre asks the French about the child, they take him to a bench, under which lies a girl of about three years old. Pierre grabs her and runs to the place where he left the official and his wife, but they are no longer there. Pierre tries to ask others about them, but this does not bring any results, only some woman says that she seems to know the girl’s parents. Pierre sees an Armenian family, which is approached by the French, one of whom takes off the old man's boots, and the other rips off the necklace from the young Armenian beauty. Pierre gives the child to the woman who supposedly knew his parents and rushes at the French. One runs away, Pierre knocks the other down and begins to choke him. At this time, a French mounted patrol appears, Pierre is beaten unconscious, searched, they find a pistol on him and take him for a spy. Pierre is interrogated, he answers the French impudently and does not give his name. Of all the people detained, Pierre seemed the most suspicious, and the French placed him separately under strict guard.

In this article we will talk about Leo Nikolaevich Tolstoy’s novel “War and Peace”. We will pay special attention to the Russian noble society, carefully described in the work; in particular, we will be interested in the Kuragin family.

Novel "War and Peace"

The novel was completed in 1869. In his work, Tolstoy depicted Russian society during the Napoleonic War. That is, the novel covers the period from 1805 to 1812. The writer nurtured the idea of ​​the novel for a very long time. Initially, Tolstoy intended to describe the story of the Decembrist hero. However, gradually the writer came to the idea that it would be best to start the work in 1805.

The novel War and Peace first began to be published in separate chapters in 1865. The Kuragin family already appears in these passages. Almost at the very beginning of the novel, the reader becomes acquainted with its members. However, let's talk in more detail about why the description of high society and noble families occupies such a large place in the novel.

The role of high society in the work

In the novel, Tolstoy takes the place of the judge who begins the trial of high society. The writer first of all evaluates not a person’s position in the world, but his moral qualities. And the most important virtues for Tolstoy were truthfulness, kindness and simplicity. The author strives to tear off the shiny veils of secular gloss and show the true essence of the nobility. Therefore, from the first pages the reader becomes a witness to the base deeds committed by the nobles. Just remember the drunken revelry of Anatoly Kuragin and Pierre Bezukhov.

The Kuragin family, among other noble families, finds itself under the gaze of Tolstoy. How does the writer see each member of this family?

General idea of ​​the Kuragin family

Tolstoy saw the family as the basis of human society, which is why he attached such great importance to the depiction of noble families in the novel. The writer presents the Kuragins to the reader as the embodiment of immorality. All members of this family are hypocritical, selfish, ready to commit a crime for the sake of wealth, irresponsible, selfish.

Among all the families depicted by Tolstoy, only the Kuragins are guided in their actions solely by personal interest. It was these people who destroyed the lives of other people: Pierre Bezukhov, Natasha Rostova, Andrei Bolkonsky, etc.

Even the family ties of the Kuragins are different. The members of this family are connected not by poetic closeness, kinship of souls and care, but by instinctive solidarity, which in practice is more reminiscent of the relations of animals than of people.

Composition of the Kuragin family: Prince Vasily, Princess Alina (his wife), Anatole, Helen, Ippolit.

Vasily Kuragin

Prince Vasily is the head of the family. The reader first sees him in Anna Pavlovna's salon. He was dressed in a court uniform, stockings and heads and had a "bright expression on his flat face." The prince speaks French, always for show, lazily, like an actor playing a role in an old play. The prince was a respected person among the society of the novel "War and Peace". The Kuragin family was generally received quite favorably by other nobles.

Prince Kuragin, kind to everyone and complacent to everyone, was a close associate of the emperor, he was surrounded by a crowd of enthusiastic fans. However, behind the external well-being there was hidden an ongoing internal struggle between the desire to appear as a moral and worthy person and the real motives of his actions.

Tolstoy liked to use the technique of discrepancy between the internal and external character of a character. It was this that he used when creating the image of Prince Vasily in the novel War and Peace. The Kuragin family, whose characteristics interest us so much, generally differs from other families in this duplicity. Which is clearly not in her favor.

As for the count himself, his true face was revealed in the scene of the struggle for the inheritance of the deceased Count Bezukhov. It is here that the hero’s ability to intrigue and dishonest acts is shown.

Anatol Kuragin

Anatole is also endowed with all the qualities that the Kuragin family personifies. The characterization of this character is primarily based on the words of the author himself: “Simple and with carnal inclinations.” For Anatole, life is continuous fun, which everyone is obliged to arrange for him. This man never thought about the consequences of his actions and about the people around him, being guided only by his desires. The idea that one must be held accountable for one’s actions never even occurred to Anatoly.

This character is completely free of responsibility. Anatole's egoism is almost naive and good-natured, comes from his animal nature, which is why it is absolute. is an integral part of the hero, it is inside him, in his feelings. Anatole is deprived of the opportunity to think about what will happen after the momentary pleasure. He lives only in the present. Anatole has a strong belief that everything around him is intended only for his pleasure. He knows no regrets or doubts. At the same time, Kuragin is confident that he is a wonderful person. That is why there is so much freedom in his very movements and appearance.

However, this freedom stems from the meaninglessness of Anatole, since he sensually approaches the perception of the world, but does not realize it, does not try to comprehend it, like, for example, Pierre.

Helen Kuragina

Another character who embodies the duality that the family carries within itself, like Anatole, is perfectly portrayed by Tolstoy himself. The writer describes the girl as a beautiful antique statue that is empty inside. There is nothing behind Helen's appearance; she is soulless, although beautiful. It is not for nothing that the text constantly compares it with marble statues.

The heroine becomes in the novel the personification of depravity and immorality. Like all Kuragins, Helen is an egoist who does not recognize moral standards; she lives by the laws of fulfilling her desires. An excellent example of this is her marriage to Pierre Bezukhov. Helen marries only to improve her well-being.

After marriage, she did not change at all, continuing to follow only her base desires. Helen begins to cheat on her husband, while she has no desire to have children. That is why Tolstoy leaves her childless. For a writer who believes that a woman should be devoted to her husband and raise children, Helen became the embodiment of the most unflattering qualities that a female representative can have.

Ippolit Kuragin

The Kuragin family in the novel “War and Peace” personifies a destructive force that causes harm not only to others, but also to itself. Each family member is a carrier of some kind of vice, from which he himself ultimately suffers. The only exception is Hippolytus. His character only harms him, but does not destroy the lives of those around him.

Prince Hippolyte looks very similar to his sister Helen, but at the same time he is completely ugly. His face was “clouded with idiocy,” and his body was weak and thin. Hippolytus is incredibly stupid, but because of the confidence with which he speaks, everyone cannot understand whether he is smart or impenetrably stupid. He often speaks out of place, inserts inappropriate remarks, and does not always understand what he is talking about.

Thanks to his father's patronage, Hippolyte makes a military career, but among the officers he is considered a buffoon. Despite all this, the hero is successful with women. Prince Vasily himself speaks of his son as a “dead fool.”

Comparison with other noble families

As noted above, noble families are important to understanding the novel. And it’s not for nothing that Tolstoy takes several families at once to describe. Thus, the main characters are members of five noble families: the Bolkonskys, Rostovs, Drubetskys, Kuragins and Bezukhovs.

Each noble family describes different human values ​​and sins. The Kuragin family in this regard stands out from other representatives of high society. And not for the better. In addition, as soon as Kuragin’s egoism invades someone else’s family, it immediately causes a crisis in it.

The Rostov and Kuragin family

As noted above, Kuragins are low, callous, depraved and selfish people. They do not feel any tenderness or care for each other. And if they provide help, it is only for selfish reasons.

The relationships in this family contrast sharply with the atmosphere that reigns in the Rostov house. Here family members understand and love each other, they sincerely care about loved ones, showing warmth and concern. So, Natasha, seeing Sonya’s tears, also begins to cry.

We can say that the Kuragin family in the novel “War and Peace” is contrasted with the Rostov family, in which Tolstoy saw the embodiment

The marriage relationship between Helen and Natasha is also indicative. If the first cheated on her husband and did not want to have children at all, then the second became the personification of the feminine principle in Tolstoy’s understanding. Natasha became an ideal wife and a wonderful mother.

Episodes of communication between brothers and sisters are also interesting. How different the intimate, friendly conversations of Nikolenka and Natasha are from the cold phrases of Anatole and Helen.

The Bolkonsky and Kuragin family

These noble families are also very different from each other.

First, let's compare the fathers of the two families. Nikolai Andreevich Bolkonsky is an extraordinary person who values ​​intelligence and activity. If necessary, he is ready to serve his Fatherland. Nikolai Andreevich loves his children and sincerely cares about them. Prince Vasily is not at all like him, who thinks only about his own benefit and does not worry at all about the well-being of his children. For him, the main thing is money and position in society.

In addition, Bolkonsky Sr., like his son later, became disillusioned with the society that so attracted everyone to the Kuragins. Andrei is the continuator of the affairs and views of his father, while the children of Prince Vasily go their own way. Even Marya inherits strictness in raising children from Bolkonsky Sr. And the description of the Kuragin family clearly indicates the absence of any continuity in their family.

Thus, in the Bolkonsky family, despite the apparent severity of Nikolai Andreevich, love and mutual understanding, continuity and care reign. Andrey and Marya are sincerely attached to their father and have respect for him. Relations between brother and sister were cool for a long time, until a common grief - the death of their father - united them.

All these feelings are alien to Kuragin. They are unable to sincerely support each other in a difficult situation. Their destiny is only destruction.

Conclusion

In his novel, Tolstoy wanted to show what ideal family relationships are built on. However, he also needed to imagine the worst possible scenario for the development of family ties. This option was the Kuragin family, in which the worst human qualities were embodied. Using the example of the fate of the Kuragins, Tolstoy shows what moral failure and animal egoism can lead to. None of them ever found such desired happiness precisely because they thought only about themselves. People with such an attitude towards life, according to Tolstoy, do not deserve prosperity.

Lecture, abstract. The image of Helen Kuragina in L. N. Tolstoy’s novel War and Peace - concept and types. Classification, essence and features. 2018-2019.

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One of the principles that allows us to more thoroughly and deeply understand the essence of the work, the actions and characters of the characters, is to study the biographical data, preferences and position of the author regarding a particular issue. One of the important points for the concept of L. Tolstoy’s characters is his position towards the family and the place of women in public life.

Tolstoy was convinced that a woman should devote her life to her family; caring for family members, raising children - that’s what a woman should be interested in. She must not only teach children the principles of morality, but also be an absolute bearer of these qualities, be an example to follow. Based on this position, the heroes of Tolstoy’s works are often divided into two camps. The first contains characters who are ideal, from Tolstoy’s point of view, bearers of moral qualities, principles and positions.

They always act guided by a sense of justice, their actions are compared with the laws of honor. Others, on the contrary, have an anti-moral appearance - they lead an immoral, dissolute lifestyle. Lies, deceit, intrigue - these words are often constant companions for their characterization. Elena Vasilievna Kuragina, the daughter of a court official, Prince Vasily Sergeevich Kuragin, belongs precisely to the characters of the second type.

Origin, appearance

The author does not provide information about Helen’s childhood and youth, so it is impossible to draw a parallel in a diachronic context. We can also find out little about the girl’s education. It is likely that she graduated from the Smolny Institute. Tolstoy does not say this directly, but the fact that she wore a code gives the right to make such an assumption (the code was also worn by ladies-in-waiting, so there is no absolute confidence in this data). How old Elena was at the time the novel began is also a controversial issue, because Lev Nikolaevich does not give this information. Kuragina is often called “young” at the beginning of the text, which makes it possible to roughly determine her age, highlighting the period of 18–25 years.

We invite you to read the novel “War and Peace” by Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy.

This position is due to the fact that after 25 years, girls were considered old, they aroused little interest, even if they were beautiful and noble, but the situation with Elena is not at all like that. Moreover, her age is not less than 18 - otherwise the age limit would be the reason for withholding interest in relation to her person.

As the plot of the novel develops, you can see how quickly and dramatically the appearance of the characters sometimes changes. Elena Kuragina is a heroine who manages to preserve herself with virtually no drastic changes. Black eyes, glossy hair, antique physique, plump arms, beautiful breasts, white skin - Tolstoy is rather stingy in describing Elena’s appearance, so it is impossible to judge her appearance only by description. More information can be obtained by analyzing the reactions of others to her.

From the very first pages of the novel we learn about the incredible beauty and coquette Elena - she is capable of charming everyone. Both men and women look at her with curiosity and this is not surprising - her unique beauty and ability to behave in society causes delight and a feeling of envy among many. “How beautiful she is!” – young gentlemen exclaim after her every now and then.

This disposition was most likely caused not only by the girl’s natural abilities - she always looked cheerful, a sweet, sincere smile froze on her lips - such an attitude cannot but endear you, because it is much simpler, more pleasant and easier to communicate with a person who is positive mood, which pleases communication with you (even if it’s just a game), than with sad phlegm, which does not see a way out itself, and what’s more, drags those around it into its quagmire.

Elena enjoys spending time in high society, and she does it masterfully. She has perfected everything: the plasticity of her movements, her manner of speaking and smiling. She knows how to behave and does it at the highest level.

It seems that she knows all of St. Petersburg - Elena is very sociable. The girl acts very restrained and calm, which also encourages communication with her.

There is an opinion in society that she is a woman of high intelligence and deep knowledge. But, in fact, everything is completely different - her words are often misunderstood, they try to find some hidden meaning in them, which in fact does not exist.

Marriage to Pierre Bezukhov

Elena is a selfish woman. She strives to be rich - this gives her the opportunity to look in a different light in the society she attracts. She doesn’t care at all who her husband will be, how old he will be, or what he will look like. It was this position that became disastrous for their relationship and marriage with Pierre Bezukhov.

Did Pierre know about Elena’s unreasonable behavior, that the girl did not love him? It is likely that he had a shadow of doubt about this, but the fact that he knew Prince Vasily (her father), and Elena herself from a very young age, allowed him to close his eyes to many things.

Besides, who wouldn’t want to have such a beauty as a wife, because, without exaggeration, every man dreamed of her. This state of affairs flattered Pierre, who was not distinguished by his beauty and slender physique.

And so, he became the “owner of a beautiful wife,” but, to Pierre’s surprise, this did not bring him happiness, but became a cause of disappointment. After marriage, Elena did not intend to change her habits - she still often spent time outside the home, or hosted dinner parties in her new, or rather the Bezukhov family, home. The wealth that fell upon her allowed her to be even more in the spotlight. Her house, recently rebuilt by the old count, became a source of pride. Her outfits became even more pretentious and revealing - too much bare back and chest - was commonplace for her. As you can see, everything about Elena is aimed at attracting attention to herself - provocative clothes, expensive chic things, the ability to behave in society and carry on a conversation.

From the very first days of his marriage, Pierre felt the error of his actions.

The wife did not perceive him at all as a husband and in every possible way rejected even the thought of being the mother of his children.

The latter probably contains two irreconcilable facts at once - Countess Bezukhova did not want to be a mother a priori - the very idea of ​​pregnancy and motherhood was alien to her - this would not allow her to enjoy social life as easily. In addition, Pierre was disgusting to her - she got married guided solely by the desire to get rich.

In marriage, another of her vices clearly manifests itself - she gravitates towards cheating on her husband. Before her marriage to Pierre, there were rumors about her love with her brother Anatole, but Prince Vasily stopped the situation that threatened to end in incest. Kuragin separated the lovers territorially, and thus saved the family from shame. But this hardly helped to eliminate the attraction between brother and sister. Anatole often came to his already married sister and indulged in kissing her bare shoulders. Elena was delighted with this and did not stop such actions. The woman’s love affairs do not end there – influential gentlemen, one after another, are adding to her list of lovers. Naive Pierre, as usually happens with gullible husbands, is the last to learn about this and even after direct evidence of betrayal, does not want to believe in his wife’s deceit and decline in morals. He is seriously sure that this is slander. Based on the fact that Bezukhov was not a fool, one more quality of Elena can be highlighted - the ability to convince and inspire the necessary information.

She clearly knows how to take advantage of a situation and has a good understanding of people. Her actions towards her husband once again confirm this. The Countess is not afraid to go too far - she is firmly convinced that Pierre, no matter what, will not put her out on the street, but will tolerate all her antics. And this is being implemented to the fullest extent. After a duel with Dolokhov, one of her lovers, Elena turns into a fury, she shamelessly accuses her husband of inappropriate behavior, despite all her wrongs. The outburst of anger caused by this scandal on Pierre's part pacified her, but not for long - her husband's feelings subsided, and she again uses his finances and influence.

Over time, a woman begins to want to divorce her husband. The point is not that this state of affairs has become too painful for her, but that she plans to marry another person. Orthodoxy does not provide for such processes, so Elena converts to Catholicism. However, her plans for a second marriage were not destined to come true - she suddenly dies of illness.

Cause of death

The cause of Bezukhova’s death has become a reason for discussion in a variety of circles of readers and researchers. Tolstoy did not explain what exactly caused the death, and uncertainty always attracts and attracts to open the veil of secrecy. Some common versions are syphilis and termination of pregnancy. The abortive consequences are supported by the fact that Pierre did not notice any signs of infection in himself either during his marriage to Elena or after. The fact of contracting syphilis after ceasing all contact with her husband is also excluded - the disease could not have caused death in such a short period of time.

Elena was not predisposed to motherhood, so her desire to get rid of an unwanted pregnancy is quite possible. This is also confirmed by the fact that for some time the Countess took some drops - this is exactly how abortion was carried out at that time. In a word, the occurrence of bleeding as a result of abortion is great, but since Tolstoy does not give a definite answer, it is impossible to say that this is the only correct version.

Thus, Elena Kuragina, who later became Countess Bezukhova, is an absolutely negative character. Her external data is the only thing that can be said positive about her. Tolstoy was sure that such a model of behavior was unacceptable for a woman (not only high society, but also any representative of the fair sex). Therefore, he did not spare colors to depict the level of moral decline and degradation of the heroine.