Heroic tale

Le monde est vieux, dit on: je
le crois; cependent
Il le faul arnuser encore comme
un enfant.
La Fontaine

PART ONE

I don't want to go with the poet of Greece
with the sonorous voice of Kalliopin
sing the enmity of Agamemnon
with the brave great-grandson of Jupiter;
or, following Virgil,
sail from Troy devastated
with his cunning son Aphrodite
to the lush shores of Italy.
I don't wish in mythology
draw from wondrous, strange inventions.
We are neither Greeks nor Romans;
we do not believe their legends;
we don't believe that Saturn is the god
could kind parent
turn into a pathetic freak;
so that Leda were chickens
and laid eggs in the spring;
to Polluxes with Helens
born from white swans.
We need other fairy tales;
we've heard other tales
from their late mothers.
I intend with the syllable of antiquity
tell me now one of them
to you, dear readers,
if you have free hours
find pleasure
in Russian fables, in Russian stories,
in a mixture of true stories and fables,
in these toys of peaceful idleness,
in these dreams of imagination.
Oh! not everything is a bitter truth for us
torment your languid hearts!
Oh! not all of us are rivers of tears
talk about significant disasters!
Let's forget for a moment
in the magic of red fiction!

I don’t want to go to Parnassus;
No! Parnassus is a high mountain,
and the road to it is not smooth.
I saw how our knights
our rhyming poems,
reveling in intoxication,
climb to the top of Pindova,
they step around and fly down,
not with crowns and not with laurels,
but with (ah!) donkey ears,
for the disgrace of mockers!
No, dear readers!
I ask you not to go there with me.
Near my humble hut,
on the bank of a transparent river,
ancient oak grove
will protect us from the rays of the day.
My grandfather is there in his old age
I always rested on a hot afternoon
on the lap of dear grandmother;
his feathered helmet hangs there;
his damask sword hangs there,
whom he is the enemy of the fatherland
punished them for their pride
(Turkish and Swedish blood
and is now still visible on it).
There I will sit on the river bank
and under the shadow of spreading trees
I will tell you the story.

There you can quietly
if you find yourself bored,
Yawn twice and close your eyes.

You, who are in the sunflower
visible and audible everywhere;
you, who, like the god Proteus,
you take on every image,
you can sing in every voice,
you surprise, amuse us, -
you broadcast everything except... the truth;
announce with the newspapers
the secrecy of politics;
you write with poets
wonderful praises to nobles;
you call Pantomoros*
a glorious, unparalleled author;
with the alchemist you reveal to us
the mystery of the philosopher's stone;
explain with a taxonomist
connection between the soul and the body
and human freedom
with indispensable laws;
you, who is with Lyudmila
in a gentle and trembling voice
She told me: I love you!
O goddess of white light -
Lies, Untruths, the ghost of truth!
be my goddess now
and the flowers of the Russian meadow
remove the hero of antiquity,
the greatest of the knights,
miracle worker Ilya Muromets!
I want to talk about him -
about his immortal exploits.
Lie! I can't study with you
passing off fables as true.

* That is, an absolute fool.

The red sun appeared
on the azure clear sky
and rays of bright gold
illuminated the quiet grove,
green hill and blooming valley.
All creation smiled;
the waters flowed brilliantly;
herbs refreshed at night,
and fragrant flowers
dissolved the morning air
sweet spirit, aromas.
All the bushes perked up,
and feathered babies,
hemp with robin,
they began to praise in tender songs
day, carelessness and calm.
Never in the Russian region
never happened summer morning
more fun and beautiful.

Who is enjoying this morning?
Who is on a stately horse,
holding a black shield in one hand,
and in the other there is a damask spear,
rides through the meadow like a formidable king?
On his head is a feathered helmet
with a golden, light plaque;
on his hip is a heavy sword;
armor, illuminated by the sun,
sparks fly and burn like fire.
Who is this knight, this young hero?
He is like red May:
scarlet roses with lilies
bloom on his face.
He is like tender myrtle:
thin, straight and dignified.
His gaze is faster than an eagle's
and brighter than the clear month.
Who is this knight? - Ilya Muromets.
He drove through a wild dark forest,
and it appears to his eyes
the field is smooth, vast,
where nature is scattered
the gifts of the earth are abundant.

I haven’t read Gesner’s Knight,
but having a tender heart,
admired the beauty of the day;
walked quietly through the meadow
and in my sensitive soul
morning sacrifice, pure,
brought it to the king of heaven.
"You who adorn everything,
Russian god and god of the universe!
You who endow us
with all the benefits of your generosity!
always be my assistant!
I vow to forever follow
heroic instructions
and the rules of virtue,
to be a defender of innocence,
poor, orphaned and unfortunate widows,
and punish with your sword
evil tyrants and wizards,
frightening the hearts of people!
So our hero thought to himself
and, looking everywhere,
behind the bushes in front of you,
above the streams of the fast river,
sees a light blue tent,
sees a heroic bet
with a golden round crown.
He's approaching the bushes
and knocks with a spear on an iron shield;
but to the heroic answer
no to the sound of his weapon.

A white horse walks through the meadow,
bareback, unbridled,
nibbles fragrant grass
and traces of silver horseshoes
leaves flowers on the dew.
The knight doesn’t come out to the knight
bow, get acquainted.

Our Muromets is surprised;
looks at the sky and thinks:
“The sun is higher than the azure mountains,
and the Russian hero is in the tent
is it really still at rest?
He lets you into the green meadow
your reliable horse
and enters with a bold step
in a bid with a golden dome.

Why is nature wonderful?
didn't give me a wonderful gift
a gentle brush to seduce the eyes
and write with living colors
with Titian and Corregius?
Oh! then I would introduce to you,
what the knight Muromets saw
in the headquarters with a golden dome.
You would see with him -
unparalleled beauty,
all the pleasantries meeting,
the rarity of lovely female charms;
you would see with him,
how she is in a pleasant, quiet sleep
enjoyed in the blue tent,
scattered on the colored grass;
what's her name Thick hair,
light brown, wavy,
overshadowed the whiteness of the face,
neck, alabaster chest
and, curling, developing,
fell on her knees;
like her lily hand,
where are all the veins cornflower blue
were referred to with tenderness,
rested her head;
like snow white clothes,
linen, finest,
chest full from breathing
trembled with quiet trepidation.
But it cannot be expressed in a fairy tale
and you can’t write with a pen,
than the eyes of our hero
rejoiced on her brow,
on her crimson lips,
on her raised eyebrows
and all over the beauty's face.
Armor with gold notches,
helmet with overseas firebird feather,
sword with topaz hilt,
a copy with a damask point,
blued steel shield
and a saddle with shiny scree
lay on the grass around her.

Heart is hard and heroic
firm in battles and battles
with the enemies of virtue -
firmly in adversity, danger;
but unsteady against women's arrows,
softer than white wax
against tender, sweet delights.
The Knight knew many beauties
in the boundless Russian region,
but I’ve never seen one like this before.
His gaze does not turn away
from her rosy face.
He is afraid to wake her;
he is annoyed that his heart is in him
beats with frequent, strong trembling;
he is breathing in his chest
trying to stop
for longer beauty
unhindered viewing.
But he again wants
so that the beauty suddenly wakes up;
he wants her eyes -
That's right, bright, kind -
see black under eyebrows;
he wants to listen to her
a quiet, pleasant voice;
he wants to know her
interesting story
and from where, and where she is,
and why, red maiden
(the knight thought and guessed,
that she was a girl)
travels around the world to act as a hero,
exposed to dangers
a difficult life, a knightly life,
not sparing the delights of spring,
not afraid of heat or cold.

"The hands of a weak, corruptible woman
can sew with silver and gold
in the red and peaceful mansion, -
do not wield a sword or spear;
can a friend, dear heart,
reap with love to a tender heart, -
not to slay giants in the fields.
If any of the evil wizards
will take a young maiden captive,
Oh! why is the villain insensitive
won’t he do it to her in a rage?” -
This is how Ilya talks to himself
and looks at the beautiful one.

Time flies like an arrow;
an hour passes in minutes,
and the morning is followed by noon -

The sun is leaning towards the west,
and with ethereal coolness
evening descends from the clear sky
to the meadows and clean fields -
The stranger is sleeping in a deep sleep.
Night falls on a cloud
and thick darkness covers
clothes the quiet land;
You can hear the murmuring of streams,
you can hear a distant echo,
and in the bushes the nightingale sings -
The stranger is sleeping in a deep sleep.

The knight waits in vain,
so that her breasts are high
she shook with a gentle sigh;
so that she with a white hand
at least once I moved quietly
and opened her clear eyes!
The stranger is still sleeping.

He sits down in the blue tent
and, looking at the beautiful,
sees in the very darkness of the night
her heavenly beauty,
sees - in his touched soul
and in your imagination;
feels her breath
and doesn’t think of calming down
at the hour of deep midnight.

The night passes, the day comes;
the day passes, night comes -
the stranger is still sleeping.

Our knight sits rooted to the spot;
forgets food, necessary sleep.
Every hour, every minute
he finds something new
in the sweet charms of a beauty,
and - there is not a whole week in the year!

Here, dear readers,
we will have to explain
destroy objections
strict, pale-faced critics:
“Like Ilya, although Muromets,
although the knight of ancient Rus',
I could sit for a whole week,
without getting up, in one place;
could not poppy dewdrops
Don’t put it in your mouth, don’t feel drowsy?”
Have you heard how the holy monk
enjoying the wonderful singing
paradise variegated linnet,
could go without food and without sleep
not a week, but a century.
Are the charms of a beauty
do not have sorcery
paradise variegated linnet?
O my dear friends!
if you knew that women
They can do this to us poor people!..
Oh! ask the gray-haired old men;
Oh! ask me...
and, blushing, I confess to you,
that magical sight of a charming woman -
I don’t want to name her now! -
was my heavenly food,
Olympic ambrosia;
that I was glad not to sleep for a whole century,
If only I could see the cruel one!..
But I'm afraid to talk about her
and I return to the hero.

“What a miracle! - the knight thinks, -
I heard about the heroic dream;
sometimes it continues
three days and an hour, but no more;
and a dear beauty..."
Then he sees a black fly
on her lips crimson;
forgets reasoning
and with a heroic hand
drives away an evil insect;
waving his index finger
(where the big golden ring shone
with the talisman Veleslavin) -
waves, touches quietly
to the scarlet roses white-faced -
and dear beauty
dissolves clear eyes!

Who will describe her sweet gaze,
who wakes up with a smile,
that unspeakable kindness
with whom, standing up, she greets
a knight she doesn't know?
“For a long time I wish I could sleep uninterruptedly,
young knight! (she says)
if you hadn't woken me up.
My dream was a charm
an evil, cunning wizard,
Chernomora hater.
I see the ring on your hand,
ring of the good sorceress,
Veleslava the beneficent:
with his secret power,
touching my face
destroyed the spell
Chernomora hater."
The knight took off his feathered helmet:
black velvet hair
scattered over his shoulders.
As the dawn turns red in the sky,
spilling into the pink sea
before the red sunrise,
such a blush on his cheeks
burst into scarlet flames.
Like the dew shines on the field,
silvered by the luminary of the day,
so heart sensitivity
his eyes shone in the oil.
Standing with an air of sweet modesty
in front of a kind stranger,
in a quiet and trembling voice
he answers the beauty:
“The gift of the dear sorceress
dear and dear to my heart;
I owe him my happiness
see the clear light of your eyes."

With a gentle, expressive gaze
he said much more.

Then the beauty noticed
that the clothes are linen
not a prison for her beauties;
what a dear young knight;
I could easily guess
where was it hiding underneath...
So gray mist, worrying
over the green valley,
doesn't quite hide the mounds,
in the midst of it there are blossoms;
the eye of an attentive wanderer
through the foggy excitement
sees their tops are round.

The stranger lowered her gaze -
blushed like a poppy,
and took it with a white hand
for heroic armor.
The knight realized that the beauty
preferably without witnesses
dress up as a young knight.
He left the headquarters carefully,
looked at the blue sky,
leaned against a flexible elm,
threw the feathered helmet to the ground
and supported his head with his hand.
We won’t suddenly say what he thought;
but in his eyes there is thoughtfulness
exactly as it was portrayed
like a thick cloud in a stream;
a languid sigh escaped from my heart.
His horse, his comrade, his faithful friend,
seeing the knight, he runs to him;
laughs and jumps around Ilya,
raising his white mane,
wriggling curved tail.
But our hero is insensitive
to the caresses, to the joy of a comrade,
your reliable horse;
he stands, is silent and thinks.
How long, how long will Muromets think?
No, not for long: they open up
light blue floors,
and it appears to his eyes
stranger in the form of a knight.
The feathered helmet flutters
above her lofty brow.

The heroine props herself up
a spear with a damask point;
the sword shines on her thigh.

At that moment the sun is red
shone brighter than before,
and its rays with love
spilled onto the beauty.

With a meek, gentle smile
the darling looks at the knight
and the movement of the azure eyes
tells him: "We can sit down
on the fragrant grass,
under the hay bushes."
The knight is coming soon
and sits down with the heroine
on the fragrant grass,
under the shady bushes.
Two minutes goes on
their deep silence;
on the third, a miracle occurs...

(To be continued from now on)

This is the beginning of the trifle that has occupied my solitary hours this summer. To be continued until another time; There is no end yet - maybe there won’t be. In the discussion of the measure I will say that it is completely Russian. Almost all of our ancient songs are composed with such verses.
They say the world is old; I believe it; and yet he has to be entertained like a child. Lafontaine.

Karamzin is a master of small forms. His only poem “Ilya Muromets”, which he called in the subtitle “ heroic tale", remained unfinished. Karamzin's experience cannot be considered successful. The peasant son Ilya Muromets is turned into a gallant, sophisticated knight. And yet the poet’s very appeal to folk art, the intention to create a national fairy-tale epic based on it are very indicative. Karamzin’s poem ended up next to Radishchev’s “Bova” and was one of the predecessors of Pushkin’s “Ruslan and Lyudmila”. Pushkin could also have borrowed from Karamzin the image of the wizard Chernomor, who plunged the beauty into a deep, enchanting sleep. The manner of narration also comes from Karamzin, replete with lyrical digressions literary and personal.

Karamzin’s repulsion from classicist poetry was also reflected in artistic originality his works. He sought to free them from shy classic forms and bring them closer to relaxed colloquial speech. Karamzin did not write either odes or satires. His favorite genres were epistle, ballad, song, and lyrical meditation. The overwhelming majority of his poems do not have stanzas or are written in quatrains. The rhyme, as a rule, is not ordered, which gives the author’s speech a relaxed character. This is especially typical for friendly messages to I. I. Dmitriev and A. A. Pleshcheev. In many cases, Karamzin turns to rhymeless verse, which Radishchev also advocated in “The Journey.” This is how both of his ballads, the poems “Autumn”, “Cemetery”, “Song” in the story “Bornholm Island”, and many anacreontic poems were written. Without abandoning iambic tetrameter, Karamzin, along with it, often uses trochee tetrameter, which the poet considered a more national form than iambic. Thus, to the poem “Ilya Muromets,” written in trochaic tetrameter with a dactylic clause, the author made the following note: “In a discussion of the measure, I will say that it is completely Russian. Almost all of our old songs are composed with such verses.” Of course, this statement is erroneous, but it reflects the writer’s desire to bring Russian poetry closer to its national origins.

Karamzin's creativity played a big role in further development Russian literary language. Creating a “new syllable”, Karamzin starts from Lomonosov’s “three calms”, from his odes and laudatory speeches. The reform of the literary language carried out by Lomonosov met the tasks of the transition period from ancient to new literature, when it was still premature to completely abandon the use of Church Slavonicisms. However, the three “calms” proposed by Lomonosov were based not on lively colloquial speech, but on the witty thought of a theoretical writer. Karamzin decided to bring the literary language closer to the spoken language. Therefore, one of his main goals was the further liberation of literature from Church Slavonicisms. In the preface to the second book of the almanac “Aonida,” he wrote: “The thunder of words alone only deafens us and never reaches our hearts.”

The second feature of the “new syllable” was the simplification of syntactic structures. Karamzin abandoned lengthy periods. In "Pantheon" Russian writers“He decisively declared: “Lomonosov’s prose cannot serve as a model for us at all: his long periods are tiring, the arrangement of words is not always consistent with the flow of thoughts.” Unlike Lomonosov, Karamzin strove to write in short, easily understandable sentences. For example, here is an excerpt from the story “ Poor Lisa": "Erast was unhappy until the end of his life. Having learned about Lizina’s fate, he could not console himself and considered himself a murderer. I met him a year before his death. He himself told me his story and led me to Lisa’s grave. “Now, perhaps, they have already reconciled!”

Karamzin’s third merit was the enrichment of the Russian language with a number of successful neologisms, which became firmly established in the main vocabulary. “Karamzin,” wrote Belinsky, “introduced Russian literature into the sphere of new ideas, and the transformation of language was already a necessary consequence of this.”

Karamzin's language reform also had its vulnerable sides. These include, first of all, a sharply negative attitude towards folk idioms, towards vocabulary associated with the life of ordinary people. The writer was guided by the refined, aristocratic tastes of educated readers of that time, belonging to high society, who were offended by the “low” details of peasant life.

Karamzin is one of the writers who had a strong and lasting influence on the development of Russian literature. His stories, especially “Poor Liza,” caused a lot of imitations: “Rostov Lake” and “Beautiful Tatiana, Living at the Foot of the Sparrow Mountains” by V. V. Izmailov, “The Story of Poor Marya” by N.P. Milonov, “Poor Masha” by A.E. Izmailov, “Sofya” and “Inna” by G.P. Kamenev and a number of others. Karamzin and his students created a stable type of sentimental story, original and unique, like a romantic and “natural” story. “Letters of a Russian Traveler” generated an equally extensive literature. Here are “Journey to Midday Russia” by V.V. Izmailov, and “Letters from London” by P.I. Makarov, and “Journey to Little Russia” by P.I. Shalikov, and a number of other works.

But the significance of Karamzin’s work goes beyond sentimentalism, beyond the boundaries of the 18th century, since it had a strong influence on the literature of the first three decades of the 19th century.

In the Razdolnensky central regional children's library on September 14, 2016 for students of the “4-B” class of the MBOU “Razdolnensky school-lyceum No. 1” / classroom teacher Tatyana Petrovna Chuikova / as part of the celebration of the 250th anniversary of the birth of N.M. Karamzin, within the framework of the Year of Russian Cinema took place literary journey based on the fairy tale by N.M. Karamzin: The heroic tale “Ilya Muromets”.

It is difficult to find a person in Russia who has never heard of the glorious hero from ancient city Murom - Ilya Muromets. Most people know about him only what they remember from childhood from epics and fairy tales.

Librarians Alla Konstantinovna Vasilenko and Anna Anatolyevna Savun told the children about epics, about the Russian hero, his exploits before the Russian land. We introduced the children to the unfinished heroic fairy tale by N.M. Karamzin “Ilya Muromets”.

The children looked at the painting by V.M. with interest. Vasnetsov “Bogatyrs”, showed their knowledge in a quiz and riddles based on the text of the fairy tale “Ilya Muromets”.

The event was fun and interesting. A thematic shelf “Karamzin for all times” was organized for readers.

The trip ended with watching animated film"Ilya Muromets and Nightingale - the Robber."

Still from the film “Ilya Muromets” (1956)

Healing of Ilya Muromets

In the city of Murom, in the village of Karacharovo, Ilya lives, peasant son. He sits down for thirty years and cannot get up because he has no control over his arms or legs. One day, when his parents leave and he is left alone, two passers-by stop under the windows and ask Ilya to open the gate for them and let them into the house. He replies that he cannot get up, but they repeat their request. Then Ilya gets up, lets the Kalik in, and they pour him a glass of honey drink. Ilya’s heart warms up, and he feels strength in himself. Ilya thanks the Kaliks, and they tell him that from now on he, Ilya Muromets, will be a great hero and will not face death in battle: he will fight with many mighty heroes and defeat them. But the Kaliki do not advise Ilya to fight Svyatogor, because the earth itself carries Svyatogor with its strength - he is so portly and powerful. Ilya should not fight with Samson the hero, because he has seven angelic hairs on his head. The Kaliki also warn Ilya not to enter into combat with the Mikulov clan, for this clan loves the mother earth, and with Volga Seslavich, because Volga wins not by force, but by cunning. The Kaliki teach Ilya how to get a heroic horse: you need to buy the first stallion you come across, keep it in a log house for three months and feed it with selected millet, then walk it in the dew for three nights in a row, and when the stallion starts jumping over a high tine, you can ride it.

The Kaliki leave, and Ilya goes into the forest, to a clearing that needs to be cleared of stumps and snags, and copes with it alone. The next morning, his parents go into the forest and discover that someone has done all the work for them. At home they see that their weak son, who could not get up for thirty years, is walking around the hut. Ilya tells them about how he recovered. Ilya goes to the field, sees a frail brown stallion, buys him and cares for him the way he was taught. Three months later, Ilya mounts a horse, takes a blessing from his parents and rides out into an open field.

Ilya Muromets and Nightingale the Robber

Having served matins in Murom, Ilya sets off on his journey to be in time for mass in the capital city of Kyiv. On the way, he liberates Chernigov from the siege and alone defeats an entire enemy army. He refuses the offer of the townspeople to become a governor in Chernigov and asks to show him the way to Kyiv. They answer the hero that this road is overgrown with grass and no one has been driving along it for a long time, because at the Black Mud, near the Smorodina River, not far from the glorious Levanid cross, the Nightingale the Robber, Odikhmantiev’s son, sits in a damp oak tree, and with his scream and whistle kills every living thing in the area. But the hero is not afraid of meeting the villain. He drives up to the Smorodina River, and when Nightingale the Robber begins to whistle like a nightingale and scream like an animal, Ilya knocks out the robber’s right eye with an arrow, fastens him to the stirrup and rides on.

When he passes by the robber's home, his daughters ask their husbands to help their father out and kill the peasant peasant. They grab the spears, but the Nightingale the Robber convinces them not to fight the hero, but to invite them into the house and generously reward them, if only Ilya Muromets would let him go. But the hero does not pay attention to their promises and takes the captive to Kyiv.

Prince Vladimir invites Ilya to dinner and learns from him that the hero was traveling the straight road past Chernigov and the very places where the Nightingale the Robber lives. The prince does not believe the hero until he shows him the captured and wounded robber. At the request of the prince, Ilya orders the villain to whistle like a nightingale and roar like an animal. From the cry of the Nightingale the Robber, the crowns of the towers become crooked and people die. Then Ilya Muromets takes the robber to the field and cuts off his head.

Ilya Muromets and Idolishche

A countless army of Tatars under the leadership of Idolishche besieges Kyiv. The idol appears to Prince Vladimir himself, and he, knowing that none of the heroes are nearby, gets scared and invites him to his feast. Ilya Muromets, who is in Tsar Grad at this time, learns about the trouble and immediately goes to Kyiv.

On the way, he meets the elder pilgrim Ivan, takes his stick and exchanges clothes with him. Ivan, in the dress of a hero, goes to a feast with Prince Vladimir, and Ilya Muromets comes there under the guise of an old man. The idol asks the imaginary hero what Ilya Muromets is like, how much he eats and drinks. Having learned from the elder that the hero Ilya Muromets eats and drinks very little compared to the Tatar heroes, Idolishche mocks the Russian soldiers. Ilya Muromets, disguised as a pilgrim, intervenes in the conversation with mocking words about a voracious cow that ate so much that it burst from greed. The idol grabs the knife and throws it at the hero, but he catches it in mid-flight and cuts off the idol’s head. Then he runs out into the courtyard, kills all the Tatars in Kyiv with a stick and frees Prince Vladimir from captivity.

Ilya Muromets and Svyatogor

Ilya Muromets rides across the field, rides out to the Holy Mountains and sees a mighty hero dozing while sitting on a horse. Ilya is surprised that he is sleeping while walking, and hits him hard from the run, but the hero continues to sleep peacefully. It seems to Ilya that he did not strike a strong enough blow, he hits him again, this time stronger. But he doesn’t care. When Ilya hits the hero with all his might for the third time, he finally wakes up, grabs Ilya with one hand, puts it in his pocket and carries it with him for two days. Finally, the hero’s horse begins to stumble, and when the owner reproaches him for this, the horse replies that it is difficult for him to carry two heroes alone.

Svyatogor fraternizes with Ilya: they exchange pectoral crosses and henceforth become cross brothers. Together they travel through the Holy Mountains and one day they see a wonderful miracle: there is a large white coffin. They begin to wonder who this coffin is intended for. First, Ilya Muromets lies down in it, but Svyatogor tells him that this coffin is not for him, and lies down in it himself, and asks the named brother of the cross to cover it with oak boards.

After some time, Svyatogor asks Ilya to remove the oak boards that cover the coffin, but no matter how hard Ilya tries, he cannot even move them. Then Svyatogor realizes that the time has come for him to die, and begins to foam. Before his death, Svyatogor tells Ilya to lick this foam, and then none of the mighty heroes will compare with him in strength.

Ilya in a quarrel with Prince Vladimir

The capital's prince Vladimir arranges a feast for princes, boyars and heroes, but does not invite the best of the heroes, Ilya Muromets. Ilya gets angry, takes a bow and arrows, knocks down the gilded domes from the churches and calls for the tavern to collect the gilded domes and bring them to the tavern. Prince Vladimir sees that all the city's pride is gathering around the hero and together with Ilya they drink and walk. Fearing that something bad might happen, the prince consults with the boyars about whom they should send for Ilya Muromets to invite him to the feast. They prompt the prince to send for Ilya his sworn brother of the cross, Dobrynya Nikitich. He comes to Ilya, reminds him that from the very beginning they had an agreement for the younger brother to obey the greater, and the larger - the lesser, and then invites him to a feast. Ilya yields to his brother on the cross, but says that he would not listen to anyone else.

Together with Dobrynya Nikitich, Ilya comes to the princely feast. Prince Vladimir seats them in a place of honor and brings them wine. After the treat, Ilya, turning to the prince, says that if the prince had sent him not Dobrynya Nikitich, but someone else, he would not even listen to the person sent, but would have taken an arrow and killed the prince and princess. But this time the hero forgives Prince Vladimir for the offense caused.

Ilya Muromets and Kalin the Tsar

The capital's prince Vladimir is angry with Ilya Muromets and puts him in a deep cellar for three years. But the prince’s daughter does not approve of her father’s decision: secretly from Him, she makes fake keys and, through her trusted people, transfers hearty food and warm clothes to the hero in the cold cellar.

At this time, Tsar Kalin is planning to go to Kyiv and threatens to destroy the city, burn churches and slaughter the entire population along with Prince Vladimir and Apraksa the Queen. Tsar Kalin sends his envoy to Kyiv with a letter in which it is said that Prince Vladimir must cleanse all the Streltsy streets, all the courtyards and alleys of the princes and place full barrels of intoxicating drinks everywhere so that the Tatar army has something to roam around. Prince Vladimir writes him a letter of guilt in response, in which he asks Tsar Kalin for three years to clean up the streets and stock up on intoxicating drinks.

The specified period passes, and Tsar Kalin with a huge army besieges Kyiv. The prince despairs that Ilya Muromets is no longer alive and there is no one to protect the city from the enemy. But the prince’s daughter tells her father that the hero Ilya Muromets is alive. The overjoyed prince releases the hero from the cellar, tells him about the trouble and asks him to stand up for his faith and fatherland.

Ilya Muromets saddles his horse, puts on armor, takes the best weapon and goes to an open field where an innumerable Tatar army stands. Then Ilya Muromets goes in search of the Holy Russian heroes and finds them in white tents. Twelve heroes invite him to dine with them. Ilya Muromets tells his godfather, Samson Samoilovich, that Tsar Kalin is threatening to capture Kyiv, and asks him for help, but he replies that neither he nor the rest of the heroes will help Prince Vladimir, who waters and feeds many princes and boyars, and they, Holy Russian heroes, we never saw anything good from him.

Ilya Muromets single-handedly attacks the Tatar army and begins to trample the enemies with his horse. The horse tells him that Ilya alone cannot cope with the Tatars, and says that the Tatars made deep tunnels in the field and there are three of these tunnels: from the first and second the horse will be able to take out the hero, and from the third he will only get out on his own, but Ilya Muromets cannot be taken out will be able to. The hero is angry with the horse, beats him with a whip and continues to fight with the enemies, but everything happens as the horse told him: he cannot take the owner out of the third tunnel, and Ilya is captured.

The Tatars chain his hands and feet and take him to the tent of Tsar Kalin. He orders the hero to be unchained and invites him to serve with him, but the hero refuses. Ilya leaves the tent of Tsar Kalin, and when the Tatars try to detain him, the hero grabs one of them by the legs and, swinging him like a club, passes through the entire Tatar army. When the hero whistles, his faithful horse comes running to him. Ilya goes to high mountain and from there he shoots from a bow towards the white tents, so that the red-hot arrow would remove the roof from the tent and make a scratch on the chest of his godfather, Samson Samoilovich. He wakes up and realizes that the arrow that made a scratch on his chest is news from his godson, Ilya, and orders the heroes to saddle their horses and go to the capital city of Kyiv to help Ilya Muromets.

Ilya joins them in the open field, and they disperse the entire Tatar army. They capture Tsar Kalina, bring him to Prince Vladimir in Kyiv, and he agrees not to execute the enemy, but to take a rich tribute from him.

Ilya Muromets on the Falcon-ship

The Falcon-ship has been sailing along the Khvalynsk Sea for twelve years, never once landing on the shore. This ship is wonderfully decorated: the bow and stern are in the shape of an animal’s muzzle, and instead of eyes there are two yachts, and instead of eyebrows there are two sables. On the ship there are three churches, three monasteries, three German merchants, three sovereign taverns, and three live there different people who do not know each other's language.

The owner of the ship is Ilya Muromets, and his faithful servant is Dobrynya, Nikitin’s son. The Turkish lord, Saltan Saltanovich, notices the Falcon-ship from the shore and orders his rowers to sail to the Falcon-ship and take Ilya Muromets prisoner and kill Dobrynya Nikitich. Ilya Muromets hears the words of Saltan Saltanovich, puts a red-hot arrow on his tight bow and orders over it that the arrow should fly straight into the city, into the green garden, into the white tent, behind the golden table where Saltan sits, and so that it pierces Saltan’s heart. He hears the words of Ilya Muromets, gets scared, abandons his insidious plan and henceforth swears to have anything to do with the mighty hero.

Ilya Muromets and Sokolnik

Not far from the city, at an outpost, thirty heroes lived under the leadership of Ilya Muromets for fifteen years. The hero rises at dawn, takes a telescope, looks in all directions and sees an unknown hero approaching from the western side, drives up to a white tent, writes a letter and hands it to Ilya Muromets. And in that letter, the unknown hero wrote that he was going to the capital city of Kyiv - to burn churches and the sovereign's taverns with fire, drown icons in water, trample printed books in mud, boil the prince in a cauldron, and take the princess with him. Ilya Muromets wakes up his squad and talks about the unknown daredevil and his message. Together with his heroes, he thinks about who to send after the stranger. Finally, he decides to send Dobrynya Nikitich.

Dobrynya catches up with the unknown man in an open field and tries to enter into a conversation with him. At first the stranger does not pay any attention to Dobrynya’s words, and then he turns around, with one blow takes Dobrynya off his horse and tells him to go back to Ilya Muromets and ask him why he, Ilya, did not go after him himself.

The ashamed Dobrynya returns and tells what happened to him. Then Ilya himself gets on his horse to catch up with the stranger and get even with him. He tells his warriors that before they have time to cook the cabbage soup, he will return with the head of the daring daredevil.

Ilya catches up with the unknown hero, and they enter into a duel. When their sabers break, they take hold of the clubs until they come apart, then they grab the spears, and when the spears also break, they engage in hand-to-hand combat. They fight like this all day long, but neither can hurt the other. Finally, Ilya’s leg breaks and he falls. Sokolnik is about to stab the hero, but Ilya manages to throw off the enemy. He presses Sokolnik to the ground and, before stabbing him with a dagger, asks who he is, what family and tribe. He answers Ilya that his mother is Zlatogorka, a daring, one-eyed hero. This is how Ilya finds out that Sokolnik is his own son.

Ilya asks his son to bring his mother to Kyiv, and promises that from now on he will be the first hero in his squad. However, Sokolnik is annoyed that his mother hid from him whose son he is. He comes home and demands an answer from her. The old woman confesses everything to her son, and he, angry, kills her. After this, Sokolnik immediately goes to the outpost to kill Ilya Muromets. He enters the tent where his father is sleeping, takes a spear and hits him in the chest, but the spear hits the golden pectoral cross. Ilya wakes up, kills his son, tears off his arms and legs and scatters them across the field for prey. wild animals and birds.

Three trips of Ilya Muromets

Ilya is driving along the Latin Road and sees a stone on which it is written that in front of him, Ilya, there are three roads: to go along one - to be killed, along the other - to be married, along the third - to be rich.

Ilya has a lot of wealth, but he, an old man, has no need to get married, so he decides to go along the road that threatens him with death, and meets a whole village of robbers. They try to rob the old man, but Ilya jumps off his horse and disperses the robbers with just his hat, and then returns to the stone and corrects the inscription on it. He writes that he, Ilya, is not in danger of dying in battle.

He went along another road, stopped at the heroic fortress, went to church and saw twelve beautiful maidens coming from mass, and with them the princess. She invites him to her mansion for a treat. Having had his fill, Ilya asks the beauty to take him to the bedchamber, but when he sees the bed, suspicion creeps into his soul. He hits the beauty against the wall, the bed turns over, and under it is a deep cellar. The princess falls there. Then Ilya goes into the courtyard, finds the cellar doors covered with sand and firewood, and releases forty kings and forty princes. And when the beautiful princess comes out of the cellar, Ilya cuts off her head, dissects her body and scatters the pieces across the field to be devoured by wild animals and birds.

After this, Ilya returns to the stone and again corrects the inscription on it. The hero is driving along the third road, which promises him wealth, and sees: standing on the road is a wonderful cross made of gold and silver. Ilya takes this cross, takes it to Kyiv and builds a cathedral church. After this, Ilya is petrified, and his incorruptible relics are still kept in Kyiv.

Retold

Composition

In the very movement of Western literature, with which both Russian sentimentalisms are correlated, we must distinguish two trends, interconnected and at the same time opposite: the tendency of pre-romanticism and the tendency of early realism. In general terms, we can say that Radishchev’s revolutionary sentimentalism develops the realistic tendencies of this pan-European style.

Karamzin's conservative sentimentalism develops his romantic tendencies. However, the pathos of the national heroics of the past, the cult folk character And folk history, which constituted the militant and progressive content of the pre-romanticism of Macpherson and Klopstock, remained alien to Karamzin. Macpherson created examples of the ancient Scots, his national heroes, images based on Scottish folklore. Klopstock wrote about the ancient Germans, remembering not only Ossian, but also the German epic. And Karamzin wrote his poem “Ilya Muromets” based on Ariosto and other works of the European and Russian Europeanized tradition, and not at all based on epics; his Ilya is a young knight, graceful, gentle, the second Rinald, has nothing in common with the “hillbilly” from the village of Karacharova. When Karamzin was faced with the question of romantically recreating the “color” of a personality, he chose to build romantic images surrounded by the Spanish knightly tradition or Ossianic legends, rather than turning to Russian folklore.

The basic ideas of Western advanced sentimentalism in Karamzin’s work underwent some narrowing, perhaps even impoverishment, and at the same time. perestroika in the spirit of the traditions of Russian noble culture, the traditions of Kheraskov and, after him, Muravyov or Neledinsky-Meletsky. Of the Western teachers, Karamzin was closest to the idyllic Gesner, whose touching and musical lyrics in prose were alien to political interests and generally ideological acuity.

However, it should be pointed out that Karamzin played a significant role in introducing Shakespeare to Russian readers. In “Letters of a Russian Traveler” he gives an analysis of Shakespeare's tragedy; even earlier, in 1787, he published a translation of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, in the preface to which he wrote: “Until now, not a single one of the works of this famous author has been translated into our language; consequently, not one of my compatriots, who had not read Shakespeare in other languages, could have a sufficient understanding of him... Few of the writers penetrated so deeply into human nature as Shakespeare, few knew so well all the secret springs of man, his innermost motives, the distinctiveness of every passion, every temperament and every kind of life, like this amazing painter. All magnificent paintings imitate his nature directly.”

Karamzin wrote approximately the same thing about Shakespeare in his poem “Poetry,” dating back to the same time. The deformation suffered by Karamzin’s cult of nature among Western sentimentalists is also characteristic. Karamzin is drawn to nature, the beauty of which he knows how to both appreciate and depict, away from the storms of social life, into the peaceful environment of the village, where landowners are the fathers of their peasants, and the peasants are prosperous to the extent of their hard work, obedience and “virtue.” “Rousseauism” became for Karamzin not a stimulus for the destruction of the feudal system, but a method of justifying freedom from politics; It goes without saying that the relative realistic vigilance of Western sentimentalists was greatly limited by Karamzin to the idealization of the existing world; the everyday realism of Western sentimentalists, a tool for revealing the contradictions of life, was replaced by him with the drawing of everyday details observed through rose-colored glasses.

The only true theme of Karamzin’s art is inner world man, in all his “illegality,” individual randomness, diversity of experiences, ranging from sublime pathos to troubles caused by everyday problems. “What is more interesting to a man than himself?” - said Karamzin.

Subjectivism becomes the law of his creativity. His theme - human personality - for him is expressed primarily in the theme of the personality of the author himself. He considers it necessary to emphasize that he understands the very problems of the psychology of creativity, the very essence of literary work in a new way. Rational norms, rules and patterns for him can no longer determine artistic structure; a work of art, in his understanding, reflects not the ideal scheme of the objective world, but the personal character of its individual creator. Muravyov also said that truth is only the author’s own thoughts.