Kazakevich quiet morning. Kazakov, analysis of the work Quiet Morning, plan

Kazakov Yuri Pavlovich

Quiet morning

Yuri Kazakov

Quiet morning

The sleepy roosters had just crowed, it was still dark in the hut, the mother had not milked the cow and the shepherd had not driven the flock out into the meadows, when Yashka woke up.

He sat up in bed and stared for a long time at the bluish sweaty windows and the dimly whitening stove. The pre-dawn sleep is sweet, and his head falls on the pillow, his eyes are stuck together, but Yashka overcame himself, stumbling, clinging to benches and chairs, and began to wander around the hut, looking for old pants and a shirt.

After eating milk and bread, Yashka took fishing rods in the entryway and went out onto the porch. The village was covered with fog, like a big duvet. The nearby houses were still visible, the distant ones were barely visible as dark spots, and even further, towards the river, nothing was visible, and it seemed as if there had never been a windmill on the hill, no fire tower, no school, no forest on the horizon... Everything has disappeared, hidden now, and the center of the small closed world turned out to be Yashkin’s hut.

Someone woke up before Yashka and was hammering near the forge; and pure metallic sounds, breaking through the veil of fog, reached a large invisible barn and returned from there already weakened. It seemed as if two people were knocking: one louder, the other quieter.

Yashka jumped off the porch, swung his fishing rods at a rooster that had turned up at his feet, and trotted cheerfully toward the barn. At the barn, he pulled out a rusty mower from under the board and began digging the ground. Almost immediately, red and purple cold worms began to appear. Thick and thin, they sank equally quickly into the loose soil, but Yashka still managed to grab them and soon filled up an almost full jar. Having sprinkled fresh earth on the worms, he ran down the path, tumbled over the fence and made his way backwards to the barn, where his new friend, Volodya, was sleeping in the hayloft.

Yashka put his soil-stained fingers in his mouth and whistled. Then he spat and listened. It was quiet.

Volodka! - he called. - Get up!

Volodya stirred in the hay, fidgeted and rustled there for a long time, and finally awkwardly climbed down, stepping on his untied shoelaces. His face, crumpled after sleep, was senseless and motionless, like a blind man’s, there was hay dust in his hair, and it apparently got into his shirt, because, standing below, next to Yashka, he kept twitching his thin neck, rolled his shoulders and scratched his back.

Isn't it early? - he asked hoarsely, yawned and, swaying, grabbed the stairs with his hand.

Yashka got angry: he stood on a whole hour earlier, he dug up worms, brought fishing rods... and to tell the truth, it was because of this runt that he got up today, he wanted to show him the fishing spots - and now, instead of gratitude and admiration - “too early!”

For some it’s too early, and for some it’s not too early! - he answered angrily and looked Volodya from head to toe with disdain.

Volodya looked out into the street, his face became animated, his eyes sparkled, and he began hastily lacing up his shoes. But for Yashka, all the charm of the morning was already poisoned.

Are you going to wear boots? “he asked contemptuously and looked at the protruding toe of his bare foot. “Are you going to wear galoshes?”

Volodya remained silent, blushed and began working on the other shoe.

Well, yes...” Yashka continued melancholy, placing the fishing rods against the wall. “You probably don’t go barefoot there, in Moscow...”

So what? - Volodya looked from below into Yashka’s wide, mockingly angry face.

Nothing... Run home, grab your coat...

Well, I'll run! - Volodya answered through gritted teeth and blushed even more.

Yashka got bored. He shouldn't have gotten involved with this whole thing. Why should Kolka and Zhenka Voronkovs be fishermen, and they even admit that there is no better fisherman in the entire collective farm than him. Just take me to the place and show me - they will cover you with apples! And this one... came yesterday, polite... "Please, please..." Should I hit him in the neck, or what? It was necessary to contact this Muscovite, who, probably, has never even seen a fish, goes fishing in boots!..

“And you put on a tie,” Yashka said sarcastically and laughed hoarsely. “Our fish get offended when you go near them without a tie.”

Volodya finally managed to take off his boots and, his nostrils twitching with resentment, looking straight ahead with an unseeing gaze, left the barn. He was ready to give up fishing and immediately burst into tears, but he was so looking forward to this morning! Yashka reluctantly followed him, and the guys silently, without looking at each other, walked down the street. They walked through the village, and the fog receded before them, revealing more and more houses, and barns, and a school, and long rows of milky-white farm buildings... Like a stingy owner, he showed all this only for a minute and then again tightly closed in from behind.

Volodya suffered severely. He was not angry with himself for his rude answers to Yashka, he was angry with Yashka and seemed awkward and pitiful at that moment. He was ashamed of his awkwardness, and in order to somehow drown out this unpleasant feeling, he thought, becoming embittered: “Okay, let him... Let him mock me, they will still recognize me, I won’t allow them to laugh! Just think, it’s a great importance to go barefoot ! Imagine what! But at the same time, he looked with outright envy and even admiration at Yashka’s bare feet, and at the canvas fish bag, and at the patched ones, specially put on fishing pants and a gray shirt. He envied Yashka’s tan and his gait, in which his shoulders and shoulder blades and even his ears move, and which is considered especially chic by many village children.

We passed by a well with an old log house overgrown with greenery.

Stop! - said Yashka gloomily. - Let's drink!

He went up to the well, rattled his chain, pulled out a heavy tub of water and greedily leaned into it. He didn’t want to drink, but he believed that there was nowhere better than this water, and therefore every time he passed by the well, he drank it with great pleasure. The water, overflowing over the edge of the tub, splashed on his bare feet, he tucked them in, but kept drinking and drinking, occasionally breaking away and breathing noisily.

“Here, drink,” he finally said to Volodya, wiping his lips with his sleeve.

Volodya also didn’t want to drink, but in order not to anger Yashka even more, he obediently fell down to the tub and began to take small sips of water until the back of his head ached from the cold.

Well, how's the water? - Yashka inquired smugly when Volodya walked away from the well.

Legitimate! - Volodya responded and shivered.

I suppose there isn’t one like this in Moscow? - Yashka squinted venomously.

Volodya didn’t answer, he just sucked in air through clenched teeth and smiled reconcilingly.

Have you caught fish? - Yashka asked.

No... Only on the Moscow River I saw how they were caught,” Volodya admitted in a fallen voice and timidly looked at Yashka.

This confession softened Yashka somewhat, and he, touching the can of worms, said casually:

Yesterday our manager of the club in the Pleshansky Bochaga saw a catfish....

Volodya's eyes sparkled.

Big?

What did you think? About two meters... Or maybe all three - it was impossible to make out in the darkness. Our club manager was already scared, he thought it was a crocodile. Do not believe?

Kazakov’s quiet morning is remembered not only for the beauty of the writer’s style, but also for its truthful semantic content. The reader should take a closer look at the features of the plot and the behavior of the characters.

Questions and tasks

1. How does Yashka’s behavior on the road to the river differ from Volodya’s behavior?

Yashka gets up in his sleep, he manages to overcome himself. When collecting gear, he behaves collectedly and does everything very quickly. Volodya, on the contrary, is not very happy about the new morning; he has difficulty waking up and doubts that it is worth going fishing.

On the way to the river, Yashka tries to show himself as an experienced fisherman. After Volodya offends him with his question “Isn’t it too early?”, he wants to humiliate the city guest in every possible way. Volodya, realizing how much he wants to fish, will not contradict Yashka. For example, he is not thirsty at all, but drinks water from the well that Yashka offers him.

Kazakov's Quiet Morning is an insight into the thoughts of two completely different boys, and the situation that makes them best friends.

By what signs did Yashka recognize that ducks were flying and blackbirds were calling? What did he tell you about blackbirds?

Yashka is familiar with the sounds made by almost any living creature that can be found in the village. If it whistles, it means “outi”; if it rings, it means a blackbird. Yashka has special memories associated with this bird.

Once he caught one blackbird and kept it with him for the whole winter. Drozd, according to Yashka, could scream in different ways: like a locomotive, and like a saw...

2. How did the boys behave in a moment of danger?

When Volodya began to drown, Yashka thought that he would swim out calmly. He was even angry that the fish were now scared and would not be caught. Yashka grabbed a clod of earth to throw at Volodya when he emerged. Volodya immediately began to scream. He was seriously scared. Realizing that he is drowning, Volodya flounders randomly in the water.

The main interest for the reader is Yashka. In the first minutes he wanted to call someone for help. Then the thought occurs to him that it is impossible to leave the drowning Volodya. And in the end, he decides to dive into the pool after him.

This intensity of the plot is contrasted with the title of the story - Kazakov’s “Quiet Morning” is such only at the very beginning and at the end.

How can one explain that after everything ended well for Yashka, there was nothing in the world sweeter than Volodya’s pale, frightened, suffering face?

After Volodya was saved and turned out to be alive, Yashka was sincerely happy about this. After all, he endured so much when he saved him. Yashka himself almost drowned when Volodya began to pull him down. In addition, Yashka felt great responsibility - he was the main one in this trip to the river.

What do you think the author could have hidden, but did not hide from the reader, in Yashka’s behavior?

Kazakov could write that Yashka was going to leave - for help, for a rope, away from this terrible place - anywhere, just not to know about what happened here. Kazakov did not want to make Yashka ideal hero, he showed this situation as if it really happened.

3. Prepare a retelling or role-playing reading of the story according to your own plan (your choice)

To prepare a retelling, it is worth understanding summary works.

Quiet morning by Kazakov - summary

Village morning, early, foggy and quiet. Yashka, a local boy gets up before dawn to go fishing. He collects his gear and goes to wake up his new comrade Volodka, who came to visit them from Moscow.

He is not very happy with such an early rise and asks Yashka - “Isn’t it early?” After such words, Yashka begins to get angry with him. However, they still go fishing. On the way to the river, Yashka tells Volodka a lot interesting stories: about the blackbird he caught, the fish in the river, the weather, etc.

On the river, Yashka immediately catches a large bream. Volodya is also biting. But he can’t handle the fishing rod and falls into a deep pool. A minute later, Yashka realizes that his friend is drowning. He tries to call for help, but there is no one around. After a while, Yashka finally decides to dive. After unsuccessful attempt(Volodya clings to Yashka and almost drowns him) he crawls out onto the shore and tries to escape. But his conscience does not allow him. Yashka dives again.

Under the water he appears to see scary picture- pale Volodka froze in an unnatural pose in the depths of the pool. Then he grabs him by the shirt and pulls him ashore. After some time, Volodka comes to his senses. Both boys are incredibly happy to see each other.

Related materials:

Yuri Kazakov

Quiet morning

The sleepy roosters had just crowed, it was still dark in the hut, the mother had not milked the cow and the shepherd had not driven the flock out into the meadows, when Yashka woke up. He sat up in bed and stared for a long time at the bluish sweaty windows, at the dimly whitening stove...

The pre-dawn sleep is sweet, and his head falls on the pillow, and his eyes are stuck together, but Yashka overcame himself, stumbling, clinging to benches and chairs, and began to wander around the hut, looking for old pants and a shirt.

After eating milk and bread, Yashka took fishing rods in the entryway and went out onto the porch. The village is covered with fog, like a big duvet. The nearby houses are still visible, the distant ones are barely visible as dark spots, and even further, towards the river, nothing is visible, and it seems that there has never been a windmill on the hill, or a fire tower, or a school, or a forest on the horizon. .. Everything has disappeared, hidden now, and the center of the small visible world It turned out to be Yashkin's hut.

Someone woke up earlier than Yashka and is knocking with a hammer near the forge. Clear metallic sounds, breaking through the fog, reach a large barn and echo weakly from there. It seems like two people are knocking: one is louder, the other is quieter.

Yashka jumped off the porch, swung his fishing rods at the rooster, who had just begun his song, and trotted cheerfully towards the barn. At the barn, he pulled out a rusty mower from under the board and began digging the ground. Almost immediately, red and purple cold worms began to appear. Thick and thin, they sank equally quickly into the loose soil, but Yashka still managed to grab them and soon filled up an almost full jar. Having sprinkled fresh earth on the worms, he ran down the path, tumbled over the fence and made his way backwards to the barn, where his new friend Volodya was sleeping in the hayloft.

Yashka put his soil-stained fingers in his mouth and whistled. Then he spat and listened.

Volodka! - he called. - Get up!

Volodya stirred in the hay, fidgeted and rustled there for a long time, and finally awkwardly climbed down, stepping on untied shoelaces. His face, wrinkled after sleep, was meaningless, like that of a blind man, there was hay dust in his hair, and it probably got into his shirt, because, standing downstairs next to Yashka, he kept moving his shoulders and scratching his back.

Isn't it early? - he asked hoarsely, yawned and, swaying, grabbed the stairs with his hand.

Yashka got angry: he got up a whole hour earlier, dug up worms, brought fishing rods... And if, to tell the truth, he got up today because of this runt, he wanted to show him the fishing spots - and instead of gratitude, “early "!

For some it’s too early, and for some it’s not too early! - he answered angrily and looked Volodya from head to toe with disdain.

Volodya looked out into the street, his face became animated, his eyes sparkled, and he began hastily lacing up his shoe. But for Yashka, all the charm of the morning was already poisoned.

Are you going to wear boots? - he asked contemptuously and looked at the protruding toe of his bare foot. - Will you wear galoshes?

Volodya remained silent, blushed and began working on the other shoe.

Well, yes... - Yashka continued melancholy, putting the fishing rods against the wall. - You probably don’t go barefoot there in Moscow...

So what? - Volodya left his shoe and looked down into Yashka’s wide, mockingly angry face.

Nothing... Run home and grab your coat.

If I have to, I'll run! - Volodya answered through gritted teeth and blushed even more.

Yashka got bored. It was in vain that he got involved in this whole matter... Why should Kolka and Zhenka Voronkovs be fishermen, and they even admit that there is no better fisherman in the village than him. Just take me to the place and show me - they’ll cover you with apples! And this one... came yesterday, polite... “Please, please”... Should I hit him in the neck, or what?

“And put on a tie,” Yashka said sarcastically and laughed hoarsely.

Our fish get offended when you approach them without a tie.

Volodya finally managed to get his boots off and left the barn, his nostrils twitching with resentment. Yashka reluctantly followed him, and the guys silently, without looking at each other, walked down the street. They walked through the village, and the fog retreated before them, revealing more and more huts and barns, and a school, and long rows of milky-white farm buildings... Like a stingy owner, the fog showed all this only for a minute, then closed tightly again behind.

Volodya suffered severely. He was angry with himself for his rude answers to Yashka; at that moment he seemed awkward and pitiful to himself. He was ashamed of his awkwardness, and in order to somehow drown out this unpleasant feeling, he thought, becoming embittered. “Okay, let him... Let him mock me, he will still recognize me, I won’t let him laugh! Just think, it’s important to go barefoot!” But at the same time, he looked with open envy, even admiration, at Yashka’s bare feet and at the canvas fish bag, and at the patched trousers and gray shirt worn especially for fishing. He envied Yashka’s tan and that special gait, in which his shoulders and shoulder blades, and even his ears move, and which many village children consider to be especially chic.

We passed by a well with an old log house overgrown with greenery.

Stop! - Yashka said gloomily. - Let's have a drink!

He went up to the well, rattled his chain, pulled out a heavy tub of water, and greedily leaned into it. He didn’t want to drink, but he believed that there was nowhere better than this water, and therefore every time he passed by the well, he drank it with great pleasure. The water overflowed and splashed on his bare feet, he tucked them in, but he kept drinking and drinking, occasionally breaking away and breathing noisily.

Come on, drink! - he finally said to Volodya, wiping his lips with his sleeve.

Volodya didn’t feel like drinking either, but in order not to completely anger Yashka, he obediently fell down to the tub and began to take small sips of water until the back of his head ached from the cold.

Well, how's the water? - Yashka inquired proudly when Volodya walked away from the well.

Legitimate! - Volodya responded and shivered.

Perhaps there isn’t one like this in Moscow? - Yashka squinted venomously.

Volodya didn’t answer, he just sucked in air through clenched teeth and smiled reconcilingly.

Have you caught fish? - Yashka asked.

No... Only on the Moscow River I saw how they were caught,” Volodya answered in a fallen voice and timidly looked at Yashka.

This confession softened Yashka somewhat, and he, touching the can of worms, said casually:

Yesterday our manager of the club in the Pleshansky Bochag saw catfish...

Volodya's eyes sparkled. Immediately forgetting about his dislike for Yashka, he quickly asked:

Big?

What did you think? Two meters... Or maybe all three - you can’t make it out in the dark. Our club manager was already scared, he thought it was a crocodile. Do not believe?

You're lying! - Volodya exhaled enthusiastically and shrugged his shoulders. But it was clear from his eyes that he believed everything unconditionally.

I'm lying? - Yashka was amazed. - Do you want to go fishing in the evening? Well?

Can i? - Volodya asked hopefully; his ears turned pink.

And what! - Yashka spat and wiped his nose with his sleeve. - I have the tackle. We'll catch frogs, loaches... We'll capture the crawlies - there are still chubs there - and it'll be two dawns! We'll light a fire at night... Will you go?

Volodya felt incredibly cheerful, and now he just felt how good it was to leave the house in the morning. How nice and easy it is to breathe, how you want to run along this soft road, rush at full speed, jumping and squealing with delight.

Why was that strange sound back there? Who was it that suddenly, as if striking a tight string over and over again, screamed clearly and melodiously in the meadows? Where was it with him? Or maybe it wasn’t? But why then is this feeling of delight and happiness so familiar?

What was that chattering so loudly in the field? Motorbike?

Volodya looked questioningly at Yashka.

Tractor! - Yashka said importantly.

Tractor? But why does it crack?

This is what starts him up. It will start now. Listen... Whoa... Did you hear? Buzzed! Well, now it goes! This is Fedya Kostylev - he plowed all night with headlights... I slept a little, then went again.

Volodya looked in the direction from which the roar of the tractor was heard, and immediately asked:

Are your fogs always like this?

Not... When it's clean. And when it’s later, closer to September, you’ll see it hit with frost. In general, the fish takes it in the fog - have time to carry it!

What kind of fish do you have?

Fish? All kinds of fish. And there are crucian carp on the reaches, pike... Well, then these - perch, carp, bream... Also tench - do you know tench? - like a pig. That's fat! The first time I caught it, my mouth was agape.

How many can you catch?

Anything can happen. Another time about five kilos, and another time only... for a cat.

What's that whistle? - Volodya stopped and raised his head.

This? These are ducks flying.

Yeah... I know... What is this?

The blackbirds are calling. We flew to Aunt Nastya's garden on a rowan tree. Have you caught blackbirds?

Never caught one.

Mishka Kayunenka has a net, just wait, let's go catch them. They are thrushes, greedy... They fly across the fields in flocks, taking worms from under the tractor. Stretch the net, throw in rowan berries, hide and wait. As soon as they swoop in, about five of them will immediately crawl under the net. They are funny; not all are true, but there are some good ones. One of them lived with me all winter, and he could do everything: like a locomotive, and like a saw...

Early in the morning, when it was still dark in the hut and his mother was not milking the cow, Yashka got up, found his old pants and shirt, ate bread and milk and, taking fishing rods, left the hut. He dug up worms and ran to the barn, where his friend Volodya was sleeping in the hayloft.

- Isn’t it early? - he asked hoarsely, half asleep.

Yashka got angry: he got up an hour earlier, dug up worms, and wanted to show this polite Muscovite the fishiest places. Yashka is the best fisherman on the entire collective farm, just show him where to fish, and they’ll throw apples at you. And this one is “please”, and he is still not happy. He wears boots when fishing!

- You should also put on a tie! - Yashka quipped and laughed hoarsely. “Our fish get offended when you approach them without a tie.”

However, Yashka is not evil, he boasts about the best that is in his native village: the most delicious well water in the world, catching blackbirds with a net, a two-meter catfish, which the club manager saw in a barrel - he thought it was a crocodile... Yashka tells about Fedya the tractor driver, who worked at night by headlights, woke up - and again in the field.

Volodya suddenly begins to feel how nice it is to wake up early and leave the house, or even better - to run, squealing with delight.

Yashka led the Moscow guest to the pool (pool) and began to tell him that this pool was sucking everyone in - the water there was so icy that it wouldn’t let go. And at the bottom there are octopuses.

“Octopuses are only... in the sea,” Volodya said uncertainly.

- And Mishka saw it! ...There’s a probe coming out of the water, and it’s rummaging along the shore... Although he’s probably lying, I know him,” Yashka concluded somewhat unexpectedly.

They abandoned their fishing rods. Yashka took the bait and went off. We waited and waited for a bite, got tired and stuck our fishing rods into the ground. Then it bit again. Yashka pulled out a healthy bream. And Volodin’s fishing rod, along with a lump of earth, crawled into the water. The boy tried to save her and fell into the pool. Yashka got angry with him, and suddenly saw that his friend was drowning. He struggled, choked and made terrible sounds: “Wa-a-a... Wa-a-a...” The thought of octopuses flashed through the village boy’s head. He rushed up to call for help, but there was no one.

When Yashka returned, only the top of Volodin’s head was visible on the surface of the water. Yashka jumped into the water and grabbed Volodya, but he clung to him so desperately and tightly and began to climb onto his shoulders so wildly that he almost drowned him. Yashka tore the drowning man away from him, kicked him in the stomach and rushed to the shore. I looked at the water - bubbles were rising on its surface. Yashka thought that he had drowned his comrade and dived. He found Volodya entangled in the grass at the bottom. He pulled him ashore and began performing artificial respiration and shaking him upside down. Finally, water gushed from the drowned man’s mouth and he came to his senses.

Both boys burst into tears.

- How I'm drowning!

- Yes... - Yashka said... - you're going to drown... and I'm going to save you... save you...

“The sun was shining, the bushes were blazing, sprinkled with dew, and only the water in the pool remained the same black...”