The image of Natasha Rostova, methodological development in literature (grade 10) on the topic. "War and Peace" Reading the novel. Russian dance of Natasha Natasha's dance at her uncle's
Leo Tolstoy War and Peace
Russian dance by Natasha
Throughout the entire region of the province, the uncle had a reputation as the noblest and most disinterested eccentric. He was called upon to judge family matters, he was made an executor, secrets were entrusted to him, he was elected to judge and other positions, but he stubbornly refused public service, spending the autumn and spring in the fields on his brown gelding, sitting at home in the winter, lying in his overgrown forest in the summer. garden.
- Why don’t you serve, uncle?
- I served, but quit. I’m no good, it’s just a matter of march, I won’t understand anything. This is your business, but I don’t have enough sense... From the corridor the sounds of a balalaika, which was obviously played by some master of this craft, could be clearly heard. Natasha had been listening to these sounds for a long time and now went out into the corridor to hear them more clearly.
“This is my coachman Mitka... I bought him a good balalaika, I love it,” said the uncle.
“How good, really excellent,” said Nikolai with some involuntary disdain, as if he was ashamed to admit that he really liked these sounds.
- How great? - Natasha said reproachfully, feeling the tone in which her brother said this.
- Not great, but what a delight it is! - Just as her uncle’s mushrooms, honey and liqueurs seemed to her to be the best in the world, so this song seemed to her at that moment the height of musical charm.
“He’s doing something wrong in this knee,” the uncle suddenly said with an energetic gesture. - Here it is necessary to scatter - it’s a pure matter of march - to scatter...
- Do you really know how? - Natasha asked. - Uncle smiled without answering.
- Look, Anisyushka, are the strings intact on the guitar? I haven’t picked it up for a long time - it’s pure marching! abandoned.
Anisya Fedorovna willingly went with her light tread to carry out her master’s instructions and brought a guitar.
The uncle blew off the dust without looking at anyone, tapped the lid of the guitar with his bony fingers, tuned it and adjusted himself in the chair. He took (with a somewhat theatrical gesture, placing the elbow of his left hand) the guitar above the neck and, winking at Anisya Fedorovna, began not the Lady, but struck one sonorous, clean chord, and measuredly, calmly, but firmly began to finish the famous song at a very quiet pace: li-i-itse pavement.
At once, in time with that sedate joy (the same one that Anisya Fedorovna’s whole being breathed), the motive of the song began to sing in the souls of Nikolai and Natasha. Anisya Fedorovna blushed and, covering herself with a handkerchief, left the room laughing. Uncle continued to finish the song cleanly, diligently and energetically, looking with a changed, inspired look at the place from which Anisya Fedorovna had left. There was a little something laughing in his face on one side, under his gray mustache, and he laughed especially when the song progressed further, the beat quickened, and something came off in the places where it was strummed.
- Lovely, lovely, uncle; more, more,” Natasha screamed as soon as he finished. She jumped up from her seat, hugged her uncle and kissed him. - Nikolenka, Nikolenka! - she said, looking back at her brother and as if asking him: what is this?
Nikolai also really liked his uncle’s playing. The uncle played the song a second time. The smiling face of Anisya Fedorovna appeared again at the door and from behind her there were still other faces... “Behind the cold key, shouting: girl, wait!” Uncle played, made another deft move, tore it off and moved his shoulders.
“Well, well, my dear, uncle,” Natasha moaned in such a pleading voice, as if her life depended on it. The uncle stood up and it was as if there were two people in him - one of them smiled seriously at the merry fellow, and the merry fellow made a naive and neat prank before the dance.
- Well, niece! - the uncle shouted, waving his hand towards Natasha, tearing off the chord.
Natasha threw off the scarf that was draped over her, ran ahead of her uncle and, putting her hands on her hips, made a movement with her shoulders and stood.
Where, how, when did this countess, raised by a French emigrant, suck into herself from that Russian air that she breathed, this spirit, where did she get these techniques that pas de châle should have long ago been supplanted? But these spirits and techniques were the same, inimitable, unstudied, Russian ones that her uncle expected from her. As soon as she stood up and smiled solemnly, proudly and slyly, the first fear that gripped Nikolai and everyone present, the fear that she would do the wrong thing, passed and they were already admiring her.
She did the same thing and did it so precisely, so completely accurately that Anisya Fedorovna, who immediately handed her the scarf she needed for her business, burst into tears through laughter, looking at this thin, graceful, so alien to her, well-bred countess in silk and velvet. , who knew how to understand everything that was in Anisya, and in Anisya’s father, and in her aunt, and in her mother, and in every Russian person.
The uncle was not rich, but his house was cozy, perhaps because the housekeeping was handled by Anisya Fedorovna, the housekeeper, “a fat, ruddy, beautiful woman of about forty, with a double chin and full, rosy lips.” Looking welcomingly and affectionately at the guests, she brought a treat that “resounded with juiciness, purity, whiteness and a pleasant smile.” Everything was very tasty, and Natasha was only sorry that Petya was sleeping, and her attempts to wake him were useless. Natasha was so happy in her soul, so happy in this new environment for her, that she was only afraid that the droshky would come for her too soon.”
Natasha was delighted by the sounds of the balalaika coming from the corridor. She even went out there to hear them better; “Just as her uncle’s mushrooms, honey and liqueurs seemed to her the best in the world, so this song seemed to her at that moment the height of musical charm. But when the uncle himself played the guitar, Natasha’s delight knew no bounds: “Lovely, lovely, uncle! More more!" And she hugged her uncle and kissed him. Her soul, thirsting for new experiences, absorbed everything beautiful that she encountered in life.
The central point of the episode was Natasha's dance. The uncle invites her to dance, and Natasha, overwhelmed with joy, not only does not force herself to beg, as any other society young lady would do, but immediately “threw off the scarf that was thrown over her, ran ahead of her uncle and, propping her hands up in sides, made a movement with her shoulders and stood. Nikolai, looking at his sister, is a little afraid that she will do something wrong. But this fear soon passed, because Natasha, Russian in spirit, felt perfectly and knew what to do. “Where, how, when did this countess, raised by a French emigrant, suck into herself from that Russian air that she breathed, this spirit, where did she get these techniques that pas de shale should have long ago been supplanted? But the spirit and techniques were the same, inimitable, unstudied, Russian, which her uncle expected from her.” Natasha's dance delights everyone who sees her, because Natasha is inextricably linked with the life of the people, she is natural and simple; like the people: “She did the same thing and so accurately, so completely accurately that Anisya Fedorovna, who immediately handed her the scarf she needed for her business, burst into tears through laughter, looking at this thin, graceful, so alien to her, in silk and a velvet-bred countess who knew how to understand everything that was in Anisya, and in Anisya’s father, and in her aunt, and in her mother, and in every Russian person.
Admiring his niece, the uncle says that she needs to choose a groom. And here the tone of the passage changes somewhat. After causeless joy comes a thought: “What did Nikolai’s smile mean when he said: “already chosen”? Is Reid not happy about this or not? He seems to think that my Bolkonsky would not approve, would not understand this joy of ours. No, he would understand everything.” Yes. the Bolkonsky whom Natasha created in her imagination would understand everything. but the point is that she doesn't really know him. “My Bolkonsky,” Natasha thinks and imagines not the real Prince Andrei with his exorbitant pride and isolation from people, but the ideal that she invented.
When they came for the young Rostovs, the uncle said goodbye to Natasha “with completely new tenderness.”
On the way home, Natasha is silent. Tolstoy asks the question: “What was going on in this childishly receptive soul, which so greedily caught and assimilated all the diverse impressions of life? How did it all fit into her? But she was very happy."
Nikolai, who is so spiritually close to her that he guesses her thoughts, understands what she thinks about Prince Andrei. Natasha so wants him to be nearby, to imbue her with feelings. She understands that it was the happiest day of her life: “I know that I will never be as happy and calm as I am now.”
In this episode we see all the charm of Natasha’s soul, her childish spontaneity, naturalness, simplicity, her openness and gullibility, and we become scared for her, because she has yet to encounter deception and betrayal, and she will never again experience that elation. , which brought joy not only to her, but to all the people around her.
Chapter 7, part 4, volume 2
If you ask the reader which volume of the novel “War and Peace” he especially liked, he will, without any doubt, answer: the second. This volume is distinguished by some special spirituality, we find ourselves in the warm atmosphere of the Rostovs’ house, always full of guests, we participate in their family holidays, musical evenings, we feel what kind of tender and kind relationships reign between parents and children.
Here the phrase of the French writer comes in handy, in which he argued that the greatest luxury in the world is the luxury of human communication.
In this regard, the seventh chapter of the fourth part is especially indicative, which depicts the young Rostovs: Nikolai, Natasha and Petya, who return from hunting and stop to rest in the house of a poor landowner, a distant relative of their family, who owned only the small village of Mikhailovka.
Young people call him uncle, and Tolstoy doesn’t call him anything else. This hero does not have a name in the novel, perhaps because in his person the author portrays a bright representative of the people. This idea is confirmed by acquaintance with the uncle’s character. He loves hunting very much, so he flies on a horse after a hare, then, when his dog Scolding knocks down this hare, his uncle shakes the animal so that the blood drips from it.
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He is very pleased, because the hunt was successful. Then the Rostovs visit their uncle, whose house is clearly different from the conditions to which they are accustomed. The walls of the house are hung with the skins of killed animals, there is old, sometimes tattered furniture around, there is no order, but there is no neglect either, but it smells delicious of apples. However, the Rostovs do not care about the situation; they feel the good atmosphere of this house and enjoy it. They dance with pleasure and listen to music.
There is no plot as such in the seventh chapter. At first glance, this chapter seems quite ordinary, but in fact it performs a very important function in the composition of the second volume. Here one can trace the inextricable connection between Tolstoy’s favorite heroes and the people. This connection is felt at the moment when Natasha and Nikolai listen to folk music and are delighted with it. But they were brought up on refined European music, which is performed on the clavichord, and at the same time simple folk songs are close and understandable to them. In this regard, we pay attention to the uncle, who sings the way the people sing, simply, naively believing that the whole meaning in the song lies only in the words, and the melody comes by itself, there is no separate melody and it is needed only for that , so that the song is foldable.
The ending of the seventh chapter brings us a vague sadness. Natasha talks with Nikolai at the entrance to Otradnoye. Despite the fact that it is a damp and dark night around, the heroes are in high spirits, their souls are joyful and light. They remember their uncle, his hospitable home, hunting, songs. But Natasha feels that she will no longer be as happy and calm as she is now.
Natasha and Nikolai drive up to the house, its windows flicker softly in the wet velvet of the night, and a fire burns in the living room. These words exude the warmth of poetry, as does the entire chapter. The Rostovs experienced the best moments of their lives while visiting their uncle, which will remain in their memory for a long time. And we are in tune with their feelings.
Updated: 2012-05-02
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Topic 144. Natasha visiting her uncle.
(Analysis of an episode from Chapter 8, Part 4, Volume 2 of L.N. Tolstoy’s epic novel “War and Peace.”)
The first thing worth mentioning when preparing for the analysis of this episode: we cannot limit ourselves to referring to the scene of Natasha’s dance. Unfortunately, this is exactly what they often do. Moreover, in the scene itself, as a rule, only the problematic aspect is considered - “closeness to the people.” The use of large quotations is also characteristic: almost the entire passage is cited from the words “Where, how, when did you suck in yourself from that Russian air...” to “... in every Russian person.” Let us warn students that when analyzing iconic scenes such as this, the ability to quote, condensing the text as much as possible, is especially important.
When analyzing, you can rely, for example, on such questions.
- What place does the uncle occupy among the characters in the novel? How can one explain the thoroughness with which the author depicts his life, appearance, character, manner of behavior and speech? Are there any characters in the novel with whom the uncle bears resemblance?
- How often do the words “uncle” and “countess” appear in the text of the episode and how are they related? What might the similarity of these words mean in the context of what is being depicted?
- What is common and characteristic in the description of your uncle’s house, his office, suit, treats at dinner, manner of speech, pleasure from playing the balalaika (continue the list yourself)?
- Which “two uncles” are we talking about in the episode?
- Follow the behavior of the yard uncle from scene to scene. At what moments is their participation especially important to Tolstoy? Why?
- Note and comment on the contrast between Russian and French in the climactic scene. What figurative, expressive and syntactic means are used by the author to focus the reader’s attention on this key scene in the episode? What is the most important idea of the writer reflected in the author's commentary?
- In which scene in the episode is Natasha's fiancé first mentioned? What is the meaning of Natasha’s doubts related to Bolkonsky? How does he foreshadow the future development of their relationship?
- What does “family thought” sound like in the episode? What characteristic features of the “Rostov breed”, showing the closeness and mutual understanding between Natasha and Nikolai, does Tolstoy point to? Which of the characters in the episode will be associated with the words about the “magical kingdom” in the future? Describe the role of this (these) character(s) in the episode “Visiting Uncle.”
When there is time, when analyzing an episode, you can offer small fragments from a brief retelling and ask to answer what is missed and what is distorted with this method of presentation. This helps you pay attention to important details. Let's give examples of such fragments.
“Listening to Mitka, my uncle ordered a guitar to be brought to him. He began to play “On the Pavement Street.” It turned out that my uncle plays the guitar very well. Natasha was so overwhelmed by feelings that she “ran ahead of her uncle and, putting her hands on her sides, moved her shoulders and stood.”
“Listening to her uncle, Natasha decided that “she will no longer study the harp, but will only play the guitar.” At ten o'clock a line from home came for them. Uncle saw off Natasha with a completely new tenderness. Natasha and Nikolai were happier than ever.”
What is this? I'm falling! My legs are giving way,” he thought and fell on his back. He opened his eyes, hoping to see how the fight between the French and the artillerymen ended, and wanting to know whether the red-haired artilleryman was killed or not, whether the guns were taken or saved. But he didn't see anything. There was nothing above him anymore except the sky—a high sky, not clear, but still immeasurably high, with gray clouds quietly creeping across it. “How quiet, calm and solemn, not at all like how I ran,” thought Prince Andrei, “not like how we ran, shouted and fought; It’s not at all like how the Frenchman and the artilleryman pulled each other’s banners with embittered and frightened faces - not at all like how the clouds crawl across this high endless sky. How come I haven’t seen this high sky before? And how happy I am that I finally recognized him. Yes! everything is empty, everything is deception, except this endless sky. There is nothing, nothing, except him. But even that is not there, there is nothing but silence, calm. And thank God!.. "
- Description of oak
There was an 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, two girths wide, with branches that had been broken off for a long time, and with broken bark overgrown with old sores. With his huge clumsy, asymmetrically splayed, gnarled hands 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.
"Spring, and love, and happiness!" - it was as if this oak tree was speaking. - And how can you not get tired of the same stupid and senseless deception? Everything is the same, and everything is a lie! There is no spring, no sun, no happiness. Look, the crushed dead spruce trees are sitting, always alone, and there I am, spreading out my broken, peeled fingers, wherever they grew - from the back, from the sides; As we grew up, I still stand, and I don’t believe your hopes and deceptions.”
Prince Andrei looked back at this oak tree several times while driving through the forest, as if he was expecting something from it. There were flowers and grass under the oak tree, but he still stood in the midst of them, frowning, motionless, ugly and stubborn.
“Yes, he is right, this oak tree is right a thousand times,” thought Prince Andrei, let others, young people, again succumb to this deception, but we know life, “our life is over!” A whole new series of hopeless, but sadly pleasant thoughts in connection with this oak tree arose in the soul of Prince Andrei. During this journey, he seemed to think over his whole life again, and came to the same old reassuring and hopeless conclusion that he did not need to start anything, that he should live out his life without doing evil, without worrying and without wanting anything.
III. Description of oak
“Yes, here, in this forest, there was this oak tree, with which we agreed,” thought Prince Andrei. “But where is it,” thought Prince Andrei again, looking at the left side of the road and, without knowing it, without recognizing him , admired the oak tree he was looking for. The old oak tree, completely transformed, spread out like a tent of lush, dark greenery, swayed slightly, swaying slightly in the rays of the evening sun. No gnarled fingers, no sores, no old mistrust and grief - nothing was visible. Juicy, young leaves broke through the tough, hundred-year-old bark without knots, so it was impossible to believe that this old man had produced them. “Yes, this is the same oak tree,” thought Prince Andrei, and suddenly an unreasonable spring feeling of joy and renewal came over him. All the best moments of his life suddenly came back to him at the same time. And Austerlitz with the high sky, and the dead, reproachful face of his wife, and Pierre on the ferry, and the girl excited by the beauty of the night, and this night, and the moon - and all this suddenly came to his mind.
“No, life is not over at the age of 31,” Prince Andrei suddenly finally, unchangeably decided. Not only do I know everything that is in me, it is necessary for everyone to know it: both Pierre and this girl who wanted to fly into the sky, it is necessary for everyone to know me, so that my life does not go on for me alone, so that they do not live so independently of my life, so that it is reflected on everyone and so that they all live with me!”
IV. Natasha's dance
Natasha threw off the scarf that was draped over her, ran ahead of her uncle and, putting her hands on her hips, made a movement with her shoulders and stood.
Where, how, when did this Countess, raised by a French emigrant, suck into herself from that Russian air that she breathed, this spirit, where did she get these techniques that dancing with a shawl should have long ago supplanted? But the spirit and techniques were the same, inimitable, unstudied, Russian, which her uncle expected from her. As soon as she stood up, smiled solemnly, proudly and slyly and cheerfully, the first fear that gripped Nikolai and everyone present, the fear that she would do the wrong thing, passed, and they were already admiring her.
She did the same thing and did it so precisely, so completely accurately that Anisia Fedorovna, who immediately handed her the scarf necessary for her business, burst into tears through laughter, looking at this thin, graceful, so alien to her, well-bred countess in silk and velvet. , who knew how to understand everything that was in Anisya, and in Anisya’s father, and in her aunt, and in her mother, and in every Russian person.
