Bunin Mr. Light breath read. Light breath Read online - Ivan Bunin
Easy breath
Ivan Alekseevich Bunin
Easy breath
"Summer evening, Yamchchitsy Troika, an endless deserted Bolshak ..." The bunin music of prosaic letters do not confuse with any other, paints live in it, sounds, smells ... Bunin did not drink novels. But purely Russian and received worldwide recognition of the genre of the story or a small story he brought to perfection.
This book includes the most famous stories and stories of the writer: "Antonovsky apples", "Village", "Sukhodol", "Light breathing".
Ivan Bunin
Easy breath
On the cemetery, over fresh clay embankment is a new cross from oak, strong, heavy, smooth.
April, gray days; Monuments of the cemetery, spacious, county, are still far away through bare trees, and the cold wind rises and rings a porcelain wreath at the foot of the cross.
In the very same cross, the cross is pretty large, a convex porcelain medallion, and in the medallion - a photographic portrait of a gymnasium with joyful, strikingly alive eyes.
This is Olya Meshcherskaya.
The girl she did not stand out in the crowd of brown gymnasic dresses: what could be said about her, except that she was from the number of pretty, rich and happy girls, that she is capable, but playful and very careless to those instructions that she makes her cool lady ? Then she began to flourish, not developing by day, but by the hour. At fourteen years, she, with a thin waist and slender legs, have already been well described and all those forms whose charm has never expressed the human word; In fifteen she was already heard by beauty. How carefully combed some of her friends, as was chopped, as they watched their restrained movements! And she was not afraid of anything - neither ink spots on the fingers, neither the painted face, no disheveled hair, nor the knee-driving on the knee. Without her worries and effort and somehow imperceptibly came to her all that it was so distinguished by her in the past two years from the entire gymnasium, - grace, elegacity, dexterity, clear eye glitter ... Nobody danced so on the bala like Olya Meshcherskaya Nobody ran so on the skates, as she, at whom they did not care for the balls, as much as he was behind her, and for some reason no one had loved so younger classes as her. She became unnoticed by her girl, and her gymnasic glory was imperceptibly strengthened, and she had already taken any senses that she was windy, he could not live without fans that the Shenshin gymnasist was inseractlessly in love with her, as if she would love him, but so a change in handling him that he attempted suicide ...
Olya Meshcherskaya, the last winter, was completely crazy from fun, as they said in the gymnasium. Winter was snowy, sunny, frosty, early Sun designed the sun for the high spruce of a snowy gymnasium garden, invariably, the radiant, promising and tomorrow frost and sun, walking on the cathedral street, skating rink in the city garden, pink evening, music and this in all sides The crowd sliding on the rink, in which Olya Meshcherskaya seemed the most carefree, the most happy. And once, on a big change, when she was swirl on the national team from the first-graders he driving and blissfully called her, it was unexpectedly called to the boss. She stopped with a scatter, he made only one deep breath, quickly and already familiar female movement recovered her hair, jerked the corners of the apron to the shoulders and, shining her eyes, ran upstairs. The boss, two-way, but gray, calmly sat with knitting in his hands at the desk, under the royal portrait.
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Bunin Ivan Alekseevich
Easy breath
Ivan Bunin
Easy breath
On the cemetery, over fresh clay embankment is a new cross from oak, strong, heavy, smooth.
April, gray days; Monuments of the cemetery, spacious, county, are still far away through bare trees, and the cold wind rises and rings a porcelain wreath at the foot of the cross.
In the very same cross, the cross is pretty large, a convex porcelain medallion, and in the medallion - a photographic portrait of a gymnasium with joyful, strikingly alive eyes.
This is Olya Meshcherskaya.
The girl she did not stand out in the crowd of brown gymnasic dresses: what could be said about her, except that she was from the number of pretty, rich and happy girls, that she is capable, but playful and very careless to those instructions that she makes her cool lady ? Then she began to flourish, not developing by day, but by the hour. At fourteen years, she, with a thin waist and slender legs, have already been well described and all those forms whose charm has never expressed the human word; In fifteen she was already heard by beauty. How carefully combed some of her friends, as was chopped, as they watched their restrained movements! And she was not afraid of anything - neither ink spots on the fingers, neither the painted face, no disheveled hair, nor the knee-driving on the knee. Without her worries and effort and somehow imperceptibly came to her all that it was so distinguished by her in the past two years out of the entire gymnasium, - grace, elegacity, dexterity, clear eye glitter ... no one danced so on the balas, As Olya Meshcherskaya, no one ran up as ice skating, as she, at whom they did not care for the balls as much as her, and for some reason no one did not love so junior classes as her. She became unnoticed by her girl, and her gymnasic glory was imperceptibly strengthened, and she had already taken any senses that she was windy, he could not live without fans that the Shenshin gymnasist was inseractlessly in love with her, as if she would love him, but so a change in handling him that he attempted suicide.
Olya Meshcherskaya, the last winter, was completely crazy from fun, as they said in the gymnasium. Winter was snowy, sunny, frosty, early Sun designed the sun for the high spruce of a snowy gymnasium garden, invariably, the radiant, promising and tomorrow frost and sun, walking on the cathedral street, skating rink in the city garden, pink evening, music and this in all sides The crowd sliding on the rink, in which Olya Meshcherskaya seemed the most carefree, the most happy. And once, on a big change, when she was swirl on the national team from the first-graders he driving and blissfully called her, it was unexpectedly called to the boss. She stopped with a scatter, he made only one deep breath, quickly and already familiar female movement recovered her hair, jerked the corners of the apron to the shoulders and, shining her eyes, ran upstairs. The boss, two-way, but gray, calmly sat with knitting in his hands at the desk, under the royal portrait.
Hello, Mademoiselle Meshcherskaya, "she said in French, without raising her eyes from knitting .-- I, unfortunately, not the first time forced to call you here to talk with you about your behavior.
I listen, Madame, "answered Meshcherskaya, coming to the table, looking at her clearly and alive, but without any expression on his face, and sat so easily and gracefully as soon as she knew that one.
You will listen to listening to me, I, unfortunately, was convinced of this, - said the boss and, pulling a thread and wrapped on the lacquered floor of the tangle, at which Meshcherskaya looked with curiosity, raised her eyes .-- I will not repeat, I will not talk Space, "she said.
Meshcherskaya really liked this unusually pure and large office, so well breathable in frosty days with warm shiny Dutch and the freshness of the valley in the writing desk. She looked at the young king, to the full growth of the written among some brilliant hall, on a smooth sample in dairy, neatly corrugated hair, the boss and expectantly silent.
You are no longer a girl, - the boss said meaningfully, secretly starting annoying.
Yes, Madame, - Simply, Meshcherskaya answered almost fun.
But not a woman, - the boss also said many more significant, and her matte face was slightly excited .-- First of all, this is for hairstyle? This is a female hairstyle!
I am not to blame, Madame, that I have good hair, has found the Meshcherskaya and slightly touched on both hands your beautifully cleaned head.
Ivan Bunin
Easy breath
On the cemetery, over fresh clay embankment is a new cross from oak, strong, heavy, smooth.
April, gray days; Monuments of the cemetery, spacious, county, are still far away through bare trees, and the cold wind rises and rings a porcelain wreath at the foot of the cross.
In the very same cross, the cross is pretty large, a convex porcelain medallion, and in the medallion - a photographic portrait of a gymnasium with joyful, strikingly alive eyes.
This is Olya Meshcherskaya.
The girl she did not stand out in the crowd of brown gymnasic dresses: what could be said about her, except that she was from the number of pretty, rich and happy girls, that she is capable, but playful and very careless to those instructions that she makes her cool lady ? Then she began to flourish, not developing by day, but by the hour. At fourteen years, she, with a thin waist and slender legs, have already been well described and all those forms whose charm has never expressed the human word; In fifteen she was already heard by beauty. How carefully combed some of her friends, as was chopped, as they watched their restrained movements! And she was not afraid of anything - neither ink spots on the fingers, neither the painted face, no disheveled hair, nor the knee-driving on the knee. Without her worries and effort and somehow imperceptibly came to her all that it was so distinguished by her in the past two years from the entire gymnasium, - grace, elegacity, dexterity, clear eye glitter ... Nobody danced so on the bala like Olya Meshcherskaya Nobody ran so on the skates, as she, at whom they did not care for the balls, as much as he was behind her, and for some reason no one had loved so younger classes as her. She became unnoticed by her girl, and her gymnasic glory was imperceptibly strengthened, and she had already taken any senses that she was windy, he could not live without fans that the Shenshin gymnasist was inseractlessly in love with her, as if she would love him, but so a change in handling him that he attempted suicide ...
Olya Meshcherskaya, the last winter, was completely crazy from fun, as they said in the gymnasium. Winter was snowy, sunny, frosty, early Sun designed the sun for the high spruce of a snowy gymnasium garden, invariably, the radiant, promising and tomorrow frost and sun, walking on the cathedral street, skating rink in the city garden, pink evening, music and this in all sides The crowd sliding on the rink, in which Olya Meshcherskaya seemed the most carefree, the most happy. And once, on a big change, when she was swirl on the national team from the first-graders he driving and blissfully called her, it was unexpectedly called to the boss. She stopped with a scatter, he made only one deep breath, quickly and already familiar female movement recovered her hair, jerked the corners of the apron to the shoulders and, shining her eyes, ran upstairs. The boss, two-way, but gray, calmly sat with knitting in his hands at the desk, under the royal portrait.
"Hello, Mademoiselle Meshcherskaya," she said in French, without raising her eyes from knitting. - I, unfortunately, is no longer forced to call you here to talk with you about your behavior.
"I listen, Madame," answered Meshcherskaya, coming to the table, looking at her clearly and alive, but without any expression on his face, and sat so easily and gracefully as soon as she knew that one.
"To listen to me, you will be bad, I, unfortunately, was convinced of this," said the boss and, pulling a thread and wrapped on the lacquered floor, the Meshcherskaya looked with curiosity, raised his eyes. "I will not repeat, I will not speak extensively," she said.
Meshcherskaya really liked this unusually pure and large office, so well breathable in frosty days with warm shiny Dutch and the freshness of the valley in the writing desk. She looked at the young king, to the full growth of the written among some brilliant hall, on a smooth sample in dairy, neatly corrugated hair, the boss and expectantly silent.
"You are no longer a girl," the boss said meaningfully, in secretly starting annoying.
- Yes, Madame, - Simply, Meshcherskaya answered almost fun.
"But not a woman," the boss said even more significant, and her matte face was slightly excited. - First of all, what is this hairstyle? This is a female hairstyle!
"I'm not guilty, Madame that I have good hair," Meshcherskaya replied and slightly touched her beautiful head her hands.
- Oh, that's how you are not to blame! - said the boss. - You are not guilty in the hairstyle, not to blame for these expensive ridges, is not to blame that we ruin our parents on twenty rubles! But, I repeat to you, you absolutely overlook that you are only a gymnasics ...
And then Meshcherskaya, without losing simplicity and calm, suddenly politely interrupted her:
- Sorry, Madame, you are mistaken: I am a woman. And to blame for this - you know who? Friend and neighbor Pope, and your brother Alexey Mikhailovich Malyutin. It happened last summer in the village ...
And a month later, after this conversation, the Cossack officer, an ugly and plebeian species, who had nothing to do with that circle to which Olya Meshcherskaya was shot on the platform of the station, among the big crowd of the people, just arriving with the train. And the incredible, who stunned the boss, the recognition of Oli Meshcherskaya was completely confirmed: the officer stated his judicial investigator that the Meshcheck was set up, he was close to him, swore to be his wife, and at the station, on the day of the murder, speaking him in Novocherkassk, suddenly told him that she And I didn't think to love him that all these conversations about marriage were one of her mockery over him, and let him read the diary page, where it was said about Malyutin.
"I ran these lines and immediately, on the platform, where she walked, waiting until I finish reading, fired into her," said the officer. - This diary is this, take a look that it was written in it in the tenth of July last year.
The following was written in the diary:
"Now for the second hour of the night. I fastened hard, but immediately woke up ... now I became a woman! Dad, Mom and Tolya, everyone went to the city, I was alone. I was so happy that alone! I walked in the garden in the morning, in the field, it was in the forest, it seemed to me that I was one in the whole world, and I thought so good as never in my life. I lunch alone, then a whole hour played, I had such a feeling for the music that I would live without end and I would be so happy as no one. Then he fell asleep from dad in the office, and at four o'clock I woke me up, said Alexey Mikhailovich. I was very happy with him, I was so nice to take it and take it. He arrived at the pair of his Vyatok, very beautiful, and they all the time stood at the porch, he was left, because it was raining, and he wanted to dry in the evening. He regretted that he did not find dad, was very animated and kept himself with a cavalier, he joked a lot that he had long been in love with me. When we walked before tea in the garden, there was again charming weather, the sun glistened through the whole wet garden, although it became very cold, and he led me at hand and said that he was Faust with Margarita. He is fifty-six years old, but he is still very beautiful and always dressed - I didn't like it only that he came to the Corycle, - it smells in English cologne, and the eyes are very young, black, and the beard is elegantly divided into two long pieces and completely silver. For tea, we sat on a glass veranda, I felt like unhealthy and lay on the ottoo, and he smoked, then I moved to me, began to say any kind of courtesy again, then consider and kiss my hand. I closed my face with a silk handkerchief, and he kissed me several times on his lips through a handkerchief ... I do not understand how it could happen, I went crazy, I never thought I was like this! Now I am one way out ... I feel such a disgust for him that I can not survive it! .. "
The city for these April days was clean, dry, the stones were coars, and it's easy and pleasant to go. Every Sunday, after the dinner, on the Cathedral Street, leading to the departure from the city, a little woman is sent in Touréra, in black like gloves, with an umbrella of ebony. It goes along the highway dirty area, where many worsted forges and freshly blowing field air; Further, between the male monastery and the Ostrog, whites the cloud slope of the sky and he seine the spring field, and then, when we grow up among the puddle under the wall of the monastery and turn to the left, you will see a big low garden, disconnected by a white fence, over the gates of which is written by the mother's audience. The little woman is finely baptized and is familiar to the main alley. Having reached the bench against the oak cross, she sits in the wind and on the spring cold hour, two, until her feet in light shoes and hand in a narrow skin. Listening to spring birds, sweetly singing and in the cold, listening to the winds of the wind in a porcelain wreath, she sometimes thinks that he would give half every cells, just before her eyes of this dead wreath. This wreath, this hill, Oak Cross! Is it possible that under him, whose eyes are so immortally shine from this convex porcelain medallion on the cross, and how to combine with this clean look, is the terrible, what is connected now with the name of Olya Meshcherskaya? But in the depths of the soul, the little woman is happy, like all the people devoted to some passionate dream.
Easy breath. "In the cemetery, over fresh clay embankments is a new cross from oak, strong, heavy, smooth." In the cold gray April days, monuments of a spacious county cemetery are clearly visible through naked trees. Sad and lonely rings a porcelain wreath at the foot of the Cross. "In the very same cross, the cross is quite large, the convex porcelain medallion, and in the medallion - a photographic portrait of a gymnasium with joyful, strikingly alive eyes. This is Olya Meshcherskaya. "
She did not stand out among his peers, although it was "from among pretty, rich and happy girls." Then he suddenly began to flourish and surprisingly good: "At fourteen, she, with a thin waist and slender legs, the breasts were already well different and all those forms whose charm had never expressed the human word; Fifteen she had already heard the beauty. " Everything was her to Liva and, it seemed, nothing could damage her beauty: neither ink stains on the fingers, nor a painted face, no disheveled hair. Olya Meshcherskaya was best dancing on the balls and rank on skates, for whom they didn't care for anyone, as for her, and no one did not love the younger classes as her. She was told that she was windy and could not live without fans that one of the gymnasists were insanely in love with her, who, because of her volatile handling, she even had a suicide.
"The last winter, Olya Meshcherskaya completely descended from fun, as they said in the gymnasium." Winter was beautiful - snowy, frosty and sunny. Pink evenings were beautiful when the music was sounded and the rolling crowd was having fun on ice, "in which Olya Meshcherskaya seemed the most carefree, the wonderful."
One day, when Olya Meshcherskaya played with first graders to a big change, she was called to the boss of the gymnasium. With a swallowing, she took a deep breath, surprived her hair, wandered her apron and dragging the stairs with shining eyes. "The boss, two-way, but gray, quietly sat with knitting in his hands at the desk, under the royal portrait,"
She began to pronounce Meshcherskaya: does not fit her, the gymnasics, to behave, wear expensive ridges, "shoes are twenty rubles", and finally, what is her hairstyle? This is a female hairstyle! "You're no longer a girl," the boss said meaningfully, "... but not a woman ..." Without losing her simplicity and calm, Meshchersky objected: "Sorry, Madame, you are mistaken: I am a woman. And to blame for this - you know who? Friend and neighbor Pope, and your brother Alexey Mikhailovich Malyutin. It happened last summer in the village ... "
And a month later, after this conversation, the incredible, who stunned the boss was unexpectedly and tragically confirmed. "... A Cossack officer, an ugly and plebeian species who didn't have exactly nothing in common with the circle, to which Olya Meshcherskaya, shot it on the station platform, among the big crowd of the people, who had just arrived with the train." He told the judicial investigator that Meshcherskaya was close to him, swore to be his wife, and at the station, speaking him in Novocherkassk, suddenly told him that he did not think to ever love him that all conversations about marriage were her mockery of him, And gave to read the page of her diary, where it was said about Milyutin.
On the page marked with the tenth of July last year, Meshcherskaya described in detail what happened. That day her parents and brother went to the city, and she was alone in their rustic house. There was a wonderful day. Olya Meshcherskaya walked for a long time in the garden, in the field, was in the forest. She was as good as never in life. She fell asleep in the father's office, and at four o'clock she was woken by the maid and said Alexey Mikhailovich arrived. The girl was very happy his arrival. Despite its fifty-six years, he was "still very beautiful and always well dressed." It smelled from him in English cologne, and the eyes were very young, black. Before tea, they walked around the garden, he kept her at her arm and said that they were like Faust with Margarita. What happened then between her and this older man, another father, was impossible to explain: "I don't understand how it could happen, I went crazy, I never thought I was like this! ... I feel such disgust for him that I can not survive this! .. "
Giving an officer a diary, Olya Meshcherskaya walked along the platform, waiting for him to finish reading. Here and climb her death ...
Every Sunday, after a dinner, a little woman in Tourés goes to the cemetery, similar to the "Low-Low Garden, acquired by a white fence, over the gate of which is written" The Assumption of the Mother of God ". Finely peeling on the go, a woman walks along the cemetery alley to the bench opposite the oak cross over the grave of Meshcherskaya. Here, she sits on the spring wind of an hour or two, while at all the darkness of the birds and the winding of the wind in a porcelain wreath, a little woman sometimes thinks that he would not regret half every cell, just before the eyes of this "Dead Wreath." It's hard to believe it that under the oak cross lies "That, whose eyes so immortally shine from this convex porcelain medallion on the cross, and how to combine with this clean look that is terrible, which is now connected with the name of Olya Meshcherskaya?"
This woman is a cool lady of Olya Meshcherskaya, "An unclear girl who has long been living in a fiction that replaces the actual life." Previously, she believed in the brilliant future of his brother, "no wonderful ensign." After his death under Mukden, the sister began to convince himself, "that she is ideological worker." The death of Oli Meshcherskaya gave her food for new dreams and fantasies. She recalls a challenged mesh conversation with her beloved girlfriend, full, high subbotens. Walking on a large variety of gymnasium garden, Olya Meshcherskaya excitedly retell the description of the perfect female beauty, consistent in one of the old books. Much seemed so faithful that she even learned. Among the mandatory qualities of beauties were mentioned: "Black, boiling with a resin, black, like night, eyelashes, gently playing a blush, a thin mill, longer than an ordinary hand ... Little leg, a lot of big breasts, properly rounded caviar, knee-colored sink, shovels ... But the main thing ... Light breathing! " "But I have it," Olya said the Meshchersk girlfriend, "you listen, as I sigh," because the truth is, there? "
"Now it's easy breathing again scattered in the world, in this cloudy sky, in this cold spring wind."
The story "Easy Breath" Bunin wrote in 1916. In the work, the author affects the topics of love and death characteristic of this period. Despite the fact that the story is written not by chapters, the story is fragmentary and consists of several parts built in an indifferent order.
main characters
Olya Meshcherskaya "Young gemnasist, was killed by a Cossack officer, as she said that he did not like him.
Chief of gymnasium
Other characters
Cossack officer - shot Olya due to unfortunate love, "ugly and plebeian species".
Cool lady Oli Meshcherskaya
"In a cemetery, over fresh clay embankment is a new cross from oak." The cross has a convex porcelain medallion with a photographic portrait of the Gymnasics of Olya Meshcherskaya "With joyful, strikingly alive eyes."
The girl Olya did not stand out among other gymnasics, it was "capable of, but playful and very careless to the instructions" class lady. But then the girl began to develop, "flourish." At the age of 14, "she, with a thin waist and slender legs, the chest has already been well described" and forms. "Fifteen she has already heard a beauty." Unlike his reference girlfriends, Olya "was not afraid - no ink spots on the fingers, neither the painted face, no disheveled hair." Without any effort, they came to her "Elegance, Childness, Dexterity, Clear Shine Eye".
Olya better than all danced on the balas, ran fonders, he was most trapped on the balas and her best classes loved her most. "She was imperceptible to the girl," and even made the sense of her windy.
"The last winter, Olya Meshcherskaya completely descended from fun, as they said in the gymnasium." Once on a big change, the girl called the boss and made her reprimand. The woman noted that Olya was no longer a girl, but not yet a woman, so she should not wear a "female hairstyle", expensive ridges and shoes. "Not losing simplicity and tranquility", Meshcherskaya replied that Madame is mistaken: she is already a woman, and the friend's friend and neighbor Pope, the brother of Alexey Mikhailovich Malyutin, is to blame. "It happened last summer in the village."
"And a month after this conversation," the Cossack officer shot Olya "on the platform of the station, among the large crowd of the people." And the collaboration of Oli confirmed the boss was confirmed. "The officer stated the judicial investigator that Meshcherskaya set him down, was close to him, he swore his wife," and at the station she said that he did not like him and "Gave him to read the page of the diary, where said Malyutin."
"Ten-July Last Year" Olya wrote in the diary: "Everyone went to the city, I remained alone.<…> Alexey Mikhailovich arrived.<…> He stayed because it was raining.<…> He regretted that he did not find dad, was very animated and kept himself with a cavalier, he joked a lot that he had long been in love with me.<…> He is fifty-six years old, but he is still very beautiful and always dressed well.<…> For tea, we sat on a glass veranda, he smoked, then moved to me, began to say some kind of courtesy again, then consider and kiss my hand. I closed my face with a silk handkerchief, and he kissed me several times on his lips through a handkerchief ... I do not understand how it could happen, I went crazy, I never thought I was like this! Now I am one way out ... I feel such a disgust for him that I can not survive it! .. "
Every Sunday, after the dinner, a little woman in Meshchersky comes to the grave of Oli Meshcherskaya - a cool lady of the girl. Olya has become the subject of "its relentless dooms and feelings." Sitting at the grave, the woman recalls a pale face of the girl in the coffin and by chance overhearding the conversation: Meshcherskaya told a friend about read in the father's book, that allegedly the main thing in a woman is "light breathing" and what she has, Olya, it is.
"Now it's easy breathing again scattered in the world, in this cloudy sky, in this cold spring wind."
Conclusion
In the story, Bunin contrasts the main heroine of Ole the Meshchershest of the Gymnasium - as the personification of the rules, social norms, and the class lady - as the personification of dreams replacing reality. Olya Meshcherskaya is a completely different female image - girls, having analyzed the role of an adult lady, a seductive, who are not inherent in the fear of the rules or excessive dreaminess.
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