Hoffmann Ernst Theodor Amadeus(1776-1822) - - German writer, composer and artist of the romantic movement, who became famous for his stories that combine mysticism with reality and reflect the grotesque and tragic sides of human nature.

The future writer was born on January 24, 1776 in Königsberg in the family of a lawyer, studied law and worked in various institutions, but did not make a career: the world of officials and activities related to writing papers could not attract an intelligent, ironic and widely gifted person.

The beginning of Hoffmann's literary activity dates back to 1808-1813. - the period of his life in Bamberg, where he was a bandmaster at the local theater and gave music lessons. The first short story-fairy tale “Cavalier Gluck” is dedicated to the personality of the composer he especially revered; the name of the artist is included in the title of the first collection - “Fantasies in the Manner of Callot” (1814-1815).

Hoffman's circle of acquaintances included the romantic writers Fouquet, Chamisso, Brentano, and the famous actor L. Devrient. Hoffmann owns several operas and ballets, the most significant of which are Ondine, written on the plot of Ondine by Fouquet, and the musical accompaniment to the grotesque Merry Musicians by Brentano.

Among famous works Hoffmann - the short story “The Golden Pot”, the fairy tale “Little Tsakhes nicknamed Zinnober”, the collections “Night Stories”, “Serapion’s Brothers”, the novels “The Worldly Views of the Cat Murr”, “The Devil’s Elixir”.

“The Nutcracker and the Mouse King” is one of the famous fairy stories written by Hoffmann.

The plot of the fairy tale was born in his communication with the children of his friend Hitzig. He was always a welcome guest in this family, and the children waited for his delightful gifts, fairy tales, and toys that he made with his own hands. Like the craftsman-godfather Drosselmeyer, Hoffmann made a skillful model of the castle for his little friends. He captured the names of the children in The Nutcracker. Marie Stahlbaum - a gentle girl with a brave and loving heart, who managed to return the Nutcracker to his real appearance - is the namesake of Hitzig's daughter, who did not live long. But her brother Fritz, the valiant commander of the toy soldiers in the fairy tale, grew up, became an architect, and then even took the post of president of the Berlin Academy of Arts...

The Nutcracker and the Mouse King

CHRISTMAS TREE

On December 24, the children of Medical Advisor Stahlbaum were not allowed to enter the passage room all day, and they were not allowed into the living room adjacent to it at all. In the bedroom, Fritz and Marie sat huddled together in a corner. It was already completely dark, and they were very scared, because no lamps had been brought into the room, as was supposed to be the case on Christmas Eve. Fritz, in a mysterious whisper, told his sister (she had just turned seven years old) that since the very morning there had been something rustling, making noise and quietly knocking in the locked rooms. And recently a small dark man with a large box under his arm slipped through the hallway; but Fritz probably knows that this is their godfather, Drosselmeyer. Then Marie clapped her hands for joy and exclaimed:

Oh, did the godfather make us something this time?

The senior court adviser, Drosselmeyer, was not distinguished by his beauty: he was a small, dry man with a wrinkled face, with a large black patch instead of his right eye and completely bald, which is why he wore a beautiful white wig; and this wig was made of glass, and extremely skillfully. The godfather himself was a great craftsman, he even knew a lot about watches and even knew how to make them. Therefore, when the Stahlbaums’ clocks began to act up and stopped singing, godfather Drosselmeyer always came, took off his glass wig, pulled off his yellow frock coat, tied a blue apron and poked the clock with prickly instruments, so that little Marie felt very sorry for them; but he did no harm to the clock, on the contrary, it came to life again and immediately began to tick-tock merrily, ring and sing, and everyone was very happy about it. And every time the godfather had something entertaining in his pocket for the children: either a little man rolling his eyes and shuffling his feet so that you couldn’t look at him without laughing, or a box from which a bird jumps out, or some other little thing. And for Christmas he always made a beautiful, intricate toy, which he worked hard on. Therefore, the parents immediately carefully removed his gift.

Oh, my godfather made us something this time! - Marie exclaimed.

Fritz decided that this year it would certainly be a fortress, and in it very pretty, smart soldiers would march and throw out articles, and then other soldiers would appear and go on an attack, but those soldiers in the fortress would bravely fire cannons at them, and there will be noise and noise.

No, no,” Marie interrupted Fritz, “my godfather told me about the beautiful garden.” There is a big lake, wonderfully beautiful swans with golden ribbons on their necks swim on it and sing beautiful songs. Then a girl will come out of the garden, go to the lake, lure the swans and feed them sweet marzipan...

“Swans don’t eat marzipan,” Fritz interrupted her not very politely, “and a godfather can’t make a whole garden.” And what good are his toys to us? They are immediately taken away from us. No, I like my father’s and mother’s gifts much better: they stay with us, we manage them ourselves.

And so the children began to guess what their parents would give them. Marie said that Mamzel Trudchen (her big doll) had completely deteriorated: she had become so clumsy, she kept falling on the floor, so now she had nasty marks all over her face, and there was no point in even thinking about taking her around in a clean dress. No matter how much you reprimand her, nothing helps. And then, mom smiled when Marie admired Greta’s umbrella so much. Fritz insisted that he just lacked a bay horse in his court stables, and not enough cavalry in his troops. Dad knows this well.

So, the children knew very well that their parents had bought them all sorts of wonderful gifts and were now placing them on the table; but at the same time, they had no doubt that the good baby Christ shone everything with his gentle and gentle eyes and that Christmas gifts, as if touched by his gracious hand, bring more joy than all others. The elder sister Louise reminded the children, who endlessly whispered about the expected gifts, about this, adding that the infant Christ always guides the hand of the parents, and the children are given what gives them true joy and pleasure; and he knows about this much better than the children themselves, who therefore should not think about anything or guess, but calmly and obediently wait for what will be given to them. Sister Marie became thoughtful, and Fritz muttered under his breath: “Still, I would like a bay horse and hussars.”

It got completely dark. Fritz and Marie sat tightly pressed to each other and did not dare utter a word; It seemed to them as if quiet wings were blowing over them and beautiful music was coming from afar. A bright beam slid along the wall, then the children realized that the baby Christ had flown off on shining clouds to other happy children. And at the same moment a thin silver bell sounded: “Ding-ding-ding-ding! “The doors opened, and the tree shone with such brilliance that the children shouted loudly: “Ax, ax!” “We froze on the threshold. But dad and mom came to the door, took the children by the hands and said:

Come, come, dear children, see what the baby Christ has given you!

PRESENT

I am addressing you directly, dear reader or listener - Fritz, Theodor, Ernst, no matter what your name is - and I ask you to imagine as vividly as possible the Christmas table, all filled with the wonderful colorful gifts that you received this Christmas , then it will not be difficult for you to understand that the children, stupefied with delight, froze in place and looked at everything with shining eyes. Only a minute later Marie took a deep breath and exclaimed:

Oh, how wonderful, oh, how wonderful!

And Fritz jumped high several times, to which he was great master. The children must have been kind and obedient all year, because never before have they received such wonderful, beautiful gifts as they did today.

A large Christmas tree in the middle of the room was hung with gold and silver apples, and on all the branches, like flowers or buds, grew sugared nuts, colorful candies and all sorts of sweets in general. But most of all, the wonderful tree was decorated with hundreds of small candles, which sparkled like stars in the dense greenery, and the tree, flooded with lights and illuminating everything around, beckoned to pick the flowers and fruits growing on it. Everything around the tree was colorful and shining. And what was there! I don’t know who can describe it! .. Marie saw elegant dolls, pretty toy dishes, but most of all she delighted with this silk dress, skillfully trimmed with colored ribbons and hanging so that Marie could admire it from all sides; she admired him to her heart's content, repeating every now and then:

Oh, what a beautiful, what a sweet, sweet dress! And they will allow me, they will probably allow me, they will actually allow me to wear it!

Fritz, meanwhile, had already galloped and trotted around the table three or four times on a new bay horse, which, as he had expected, was tied up at the table with gifts. Getting off, he said that the horse is a fierce beast, but it’s okay: he’ll train him. Then he inspected the new squadron of hussars; they were dressed in magnificent red uniforms embroidered with gold, brandished silver sabers and sat on such snow-white horses that one would think that the horses were also made of pure silver.

Just now the children, having calmed down a little, wanted to take up the picture books that lay open on the table so that they could admire the various wonderful flowers, colorfully painted people and pretty children playing, so naturally depicted, as if they were really alive and about to speak. - so, the children were just about to take up the wonderful books when the bell rang again. The children knew that it was now the turn of godfather Drosselmsier's gifts, and they ran up to the table that stood against the wall. The screens behind which the table had been hidden until then were quickly removed. Oh, what the children saw! On a green lawn strewn with flowers stood a wonderful castle with many mirrored windows and golden towers. The music began to play, the doors and windows opened, and everyone saw that tiny but very elegantly made gentlemen and ladies in hats with feathers and dresses with long trains were walking in the halls. In the central hall, which was so sparkling (so many candles were burning in the silver chandeliers!), children in short camisoles and skirts danced to the music. A gentleman in an emerald green cloak looked out of the window, bowed and hid again, and below, at the door of the castle, Godfather Drosselmeyer appeared and left again, only he was as tall as his father’s little finger, no more.

Fritz put his elbows on the table and spent a long time looking at the wonderful castle with dancing and walking people. Then he asked:

Godfather, oh godfather! Let me into your castle!

The court's senior counsel said there was no way this could happen. And he was right: it was stupid of Fritz to ask to go to the castle, which, together with all its golden towers, was smaller than him. Fritz agreed. Another minute passed, gentlemen and ladies were still walking around the castle, children were dancing, the emerald man was still looking out of the same window, and Godfather Drosselmeyer was still approaching the same door.

Fritz exclaimed impatiently:

Godfather, now get out of that other door!

This is absolutely impossible, dear Fritzchen,” objected the senior court adviser.

Well, then,” continued Fritz, “tell the little green man who looks out of the window to walk with others through the halls.

This is also absolutely impossible,” the senior court adviser objected again.

Well, then let the children come down! - exclaimed Fritz. - I want to take a better look at them.

None of this is possible,” said the senior court adviser in an irritated tone. - The mechanism is made once and for all, it cannot be remade.

Oh, yes! - Fritz drawled. - None of this is allowed... Listen, godfather, since the smart little people in the castle only know what to repeat the same thing, so what's the use of them? I don't need them. No, my hussars are much better! They march forward and backward as I please, and are not locked in the house.

And with these words, he ran away to the Christmas table, and at his command, the squadron on the silver mines began to gallop back and forth - in all directions, cutting with sabers and shooting to their heart's content. Marie also slowly moved away: she, too, was tired of dancing and hanging out with dolls in the castle. Only she tried to do it quietly, not like brother Fritz, because she was a kind and obedient girl. The senior court adviser said to the parents in a dissatisfied tone:

Such an intricate toy is not for foolish children. I'll take my castle.

But then the mother asked to show her the internal structure and the amazing, very skillful mechanism that set the little men in motion. Drosselmeyer disassembled and reassembled the entire toy. Now he became cheerful again and gave the children several beautiful brown men who had golden faces, arms and legs; they were all from Thorn and smelled deliciously of gingerbread. Fritz and Marie were very happy with them. The elder sister Louise, at her mother’s request, put on an elegant dress given by her parents, which suited her very well; and Marie asked to be allowed, before putting on the new dress, to admire it a little more, which she was willingly allowed to do.

PET

But in fact, Marie did not leave the table with gifts because only now she noticed something that she had not seen before: when Fritz’s hussars, who had previously been standing in formation right next to the tree, came out, a wonderful little man came into view. He behaved quietly and modestly, as if calmly waiting for his turn to come. True, he was not very foldable: his body was too long and dense on short and thin legs, and his head also seemed to be too big. But from his smart clothes it was immediately clear that he was a well-bred and tasteful man. He was wearing a very beautiful shiny purple hussar dolman, all covered in buttons and braids, the same leggings and boots so smart that it was unlikely that officers, much less students, would ever wear anything like them; they sat on the slender legs as deftly as if they had been painted on them. Of course, it was absurd that with such a suit, he attached a narrow, clumsy cloak to his back, as if cut out of wood, and pulled a miner’s cap over his head, but Marie thought: “After all, Godfather Drosselmeyer also wears a very nasty redingote and a funny cap, but this is not prevents him from being a sweet, dear godfather.” In addition, Marie came to the conclusion that the godfather, even if he was as dandy as the little man, would still never equal him in good looks. Peering carefully at the nice little man who fell in love with her at first sight, Marie noticed how good-natured his face shone. The greenish bulging eyes looked welcoming and benevolent. The carefully curled beard made of white darn paper, bordering his chin, suited the little man very much - after all, the gentle smile on his scarlet lips stood out more noticeably.

Oh! - Marie finally exclaimed. - Oh, dear daddy, for whom is this pretty little man standing right under the tree?

“He, dear child,” answered the father, “will work hard for all of you: his job is to carefully crack hard nuts, and he was bought for Louise and for you and Fritz.

With these words, the father carefully took him from the table, lifted his wooden cloak, and then the little man opened his mouth wide and bared two rows of very white sharp teeth. Marie put a nut in his mouth, and - snap! - the little man chewed it, the shell fell, and Marie found a tasty kernel in her palm. Now everyone - and Marie too - understood that the elegant little man descended from the Nutcrackers and continued the profession of his ancestors. Marie screamed loudly with joy, and her father said:

Since you, dear Marie, liked the Nutcracker, then you yourself should take care of him and take care of him, although, as I already said, Louise and Fritz can also use his services.

Marie immediately took the Nutcracker and gave him nuts to gnaw, but she chose the smallest ones so that the little man would not have to open his mouth too wide, since, to tell the truth, this did not make him look good. Louise joined her, and her dear friend the Nutcracker did his best for her; He seemed to carry out his duties with great pleasure, because he always smiled affably.

Fritz, meanwhile, was tired of riding a horse and marching. When he heard how merrily the nuts were cracking, he also wanted to try them. He jumped up to the sisters and laughed heartily at the sight of the funny little man, who was now passing from hand to hand and tirelessly opening and closing his mouth. Fritz thrust the largest and hardest nuts at him, but suddenly there was a cracking sound - crack-crack! - three teeth fell out of the Nutcracker’s mouth and the lower jaw sagged and swayed.

Oh, poor, dear Nutcracker! - Marie screamed and took it away from Fritz.

What a fool! - said Fritz. - He starts cracking nuts, but his teeth are no good. It’s true, he doesn’t even know his business. Give it here, Marie! Let him crack my nuts. It doesn’t matter if he breaks off the rest of his teeth, and his entire jaw to boot. There is no need to stand on ceremony with him, a slacker!

No no! - Marie screamed crying. - I won’t give you my dear Nutcracker. Look how pitifully he looks at me and shows his sick mouth! You are evil: you beat your horses and even allow soldiers to kill each other.

That's how it's supposed to be, you won't understand it! - Fritz shouted. - And the Nutcracker is not only yours, he is mine too. Give it here!

Marie burst into tears and quickly wrapped the sick Nutcracker in a handkerchief. Then the parents came up with godfather Drosselmeyer. To Marie's chagrin, he took Fritz's side. But the father said:

I deliberately placed the Nutcracker in Marie's care. And he, as I see, right now especially needs her care, so let her alone manage him and no one interferes in this matter. In general, I am very surprised that Fritz demands further services from a victim in the service. As a real soldier, he should know that the wounded are never left in the ranks.

Fritz was very embarrassed and, leaving the nuts and the Nutcracker alone, quietly moved to the other side of the table, where his hussars, having posted sentries as expected, settled down for the night. Marie picked up the teeth that the Nutcracker had lost; She tied up the injured jaw with a beautiful white ribbon, which she broke off from her dress, and then even more carefully wrapped a scarf around the poor little man, who had turned pale and, apparently, frightened. Cradling him like a small child, she began to examine beautiful pictures in a new book that was lying among other gifts. She became very angry, although it was completely unlike her, when her godfather began to laugh at the fact that she was babysitting such a freak. Here she again thought about the strange resemblance to Drosselmeyer, which she noted already at the first glance at the little man, and said very seriously:

Who knows, dear godfather, who knows, you would be as beautiful as my dear Nutcracker, even if you dressed up no worse than him and put on the same smart, shiny boots.

Marie couldn’t understand why the parents laughed so loudly, and why the senior court adviser’s nose was so red, and why he wasn’t laughing with everyone else now. True, there were reasons for that.

MIRACLES

As soon as you enter the Stahlbaums’ living room, there, right next to the door to the left, against the wide wall, there is a tall glass cabinet where the children put away the wonderful gifts they receive every year. Louise was still very little when her father ordered a cabinet from a very skilled carpenter, and he inserted such transparent glass into it and generally did everything with such skill that in the cabinet the toys looked, perhaps, even brighter and more beautiful than when they were picked up . On the top shelf, beyond Marie and Fritz's reach, were Mr. Drosselmeyer's intricate designs; the next was reserved for picture books; Marie and Fritz could occupy the two lower shelves with whatever they wanted. And it always turned out that Marie set up a doll’s room on the bottom shelf, and Fritz stationed his troops above it. This happened today too. While Fritz was arranging the hussars upstairs, Marie put Mamzel Trudchen downstairs to the side, placed a new elegant doll in a well-furnished room and asked for a treat. I said the room was excellently furnished, and that's true; I don’t know if you, my attentive listener, Marie, just like little Stahlbaum - you already know that her name is also Marie - so I say that I don’t know if you have, just like her , a colorful sofa, several very pretty chairs, a charming table, and most importantly, an elegant, shiny bed on which the most beautiful dolls in the world sleep - all this stood in a corner of the closet, the walls of which were even covered with colored pictures, and you you can easily understand that the new doll, whose name Marie learned that evening was Clerchen, felt great here.

It was already late evening, midnight was approaching, and godfather Drosselmeyer had long left, but the children still could not tear themselves away from the glass cabinet, no matter how much their mother tried to persuade them to go to bed.

True,” Fritz finally exclaimed, “it’s also time for the poor fellows (he meant his hussars) to retire, and in my presence none of them will dare to nod off, of that I’m sure!”

And with these words he left. But Marie tenderly asked:

Dear mommy, let me stay here for a minute more, just one minute! I have so much to do, I’ll get it done and go to bed now...

Marie was a very obedient, intelligent girl, and therefore her mother could easily leave her alone with her toys for another half an hour. But so that Marie, having played with a new doll and other entertaining toys, would not forget to extinguish the candles that were burning around the closet, mother blew them all out, so that only a lamp remained in the room, hanging in the middle of the ceiling and spreading a soft, cozy light.

Don't stay too long, dear Marie. “Otherwise you won’t be able to wake up tomorrow,” Mom said, going into the bedroom.

As soon as Marie was left alone, she immediately began what had been on her heart for a long time, although she, without knowing why, did not dare to admit her plan even to her mother. She was still cradling the Nutcracker, wrapped in a handkerchief. Now she carefully placed it on the table, quietly unfolded the handkerchief and examined the wounds. The Nutcracker was very pale, but he smiled so pitifully and affectionately that he touched Marie to the depths of her soul.

“Oh, dear Nutcracker,” she whispered, “please don’t be angry that Fritz hurt you: he didn’t do it on purpose.” He’s just become coarse from the harsh life of a soldier, but he’s a very good boy, believe me! And I will take care of you and nurse you carefully until you are completely better and cheerful. Giving you strong teeth and straightening your shoulders is the work of Godfather Drosselmeyer: he is a master at such things...

However, Marie did not have time to finish. When she mentioned Drosselmeyer's name, the Nutcracker suddenly made an angry face, and prickly green lights sparkled in his eyes. But at that moment, when Marie was about to be truly frightened, the pitifully smiling face of the kind Nutcracker looked at her again, and now she realized that his features were distorted by the light of the lamp that had flickered from the draft.

Oh, what a stupid girl I am, why was I scared and even thought that a wooden doll could make faces! But still, I love the Nutcracker very much: he is so funny and so kind... So we need to take good care of him.

With these words, Marie took her Nutcracker in her arms, went to the glass cabinet, squatted down and said to the new doll:

I beg you, Mamzel Klerchen, give up your bed to the poor sick Nutcracker, and spend the night on the sofa yourself. Think about it, you are so strong, and then, you are completely healthy - look how round-faced and ruddy you are. And not every doll, even a very beautiful one, has such a soft sofa!

Mamselle Clerchen, dressed up in a festive manner and important, pouted without uttering a word.

Why am I standing on ceremony! - said Marie, took the bed off the shelf, carefully and carefully laid the Nutcracker there, tied a very beautiful ribbon around his injured shoulders, which she wore instead of a sash, and covered him with a blanket right up to his nose.

“Only there is no need for him to stay here with the ill-mannered Clara,” she thought and moved the crib along with the Nutcracker to the top shelf, where he found himself near the beautiful village in which Fritz’s hussars were quartered. She locked the closet and was about to go into the bedroom, when suddenly... listen carefully, children! .. when suddenly in all corners - behind the stove, behind the chairs, behind the cabinets - a quiet, quiet whispering, whispering and rustling began. And the clock on the wall hissed, wheezed louder and louder, but could not strike twelve. Marie looked there: a large gilded owl, sitting on the clock, hung its wings, completely obscured the clock with them and stretched forward its disgusting cat's head with a crooked beak. And the clock wheezed louder and louder, and Marie clearly heard:

Tick-and-tock, tick-and-tock! Don't wheeze so loudly! The mouse king hears everything. Trick-and-truck, boom-boom! Well, the clock, the old tune! Trick-and-truck, boom-boom! Well, ring, ring, ring: the king’s time is approaching!

And... “Bim-bom, bim-bom!” “The clock struck twelve strokes dully and hoarsely. Marie was very scared and almost ran away in fear, but then she saw that godfather Drosselmeyer was sitting on the clock instead of an owl, hanging the tails of his yellow frock coat on both sides like wings. She gathered her courage and shouted loudly in a whiny voice:

Godfather, listen, godfather, why did you climb up there? Get down and don't scare me, you nasty godfather!

But then a strange giggle and squeak was heard from everywhere, and behind the wall there was running and stomping, as if from a thousand tiny paws, and thousands of tiny lights looked through the cracks in the floor. But these were not lights - no, but small shiny eyes, and Marie saw that mice were peeking out from everywhere and crawling out from under the floor. Soon the whole room began to say: stomp, hop, hop! The eyes of the mice shone more and more brightly, their hordes became more and more countless; Finally they lined up in the same order in which Fritz usually lined up his soldiers before battle. Marie was very amused by this; She did not have an innate aversion to mice, like other children, and her fear had completely subsided, but suddenly she heard such a terrible and piercing squeak that goosebumps ran down her spine. Oh, what she saw! No, really, dear reader Fritz, I know very well that you, like the wise, brave commander Fritz Stahlbaum, have a fearless heart, but if you had seen what appeared before Marie’s eyes, really, you would have run away. I even think you would have slipped into bed and unnecessarily pulled the covers up to your ears. Oh, poor Marie couldn’t do this, because - just listen, children! - sand, lime and fragments of brick rained down to her very feet, as if from an earthquake, and from under the floor, with a disgusting hiss and squeak, seven mouse heads in seven brightly sparkling crowns crawled out. Soon the whole body, on which seven heads were sitting, emerged, and the whole army in unison three times greeted with a loud squeak the huge mouse crowned with seven tiaras. Now the army immediately began to move and - hop-hop, stomp, stomp! - went straight to the closet, straight at Marie, who was still standing, pressed against the glass door.

Marie’s heart had already been pounding so much from horror that she was afraid that it would immediately jump out of her chest, because then she would die. Now it seemed to her as if the blood had frozen in her veins. She staggered, losing consciousness, but then suddenly there was a sound: click-clack-hrr! .. - and shards of glass began to fall, which Marie broke with her elbow. At that very moment she felt a burning pain in her left hand, but her heart immediately eased: she no longer heard the squealing and squeaking. Everything instantly became quiet. And although she did not dare to open her eyes, she still thought that the sound of glass had frightened the mice and they had hidden in their holes.

But what is this again? Behind Marie, in the closet, a strange noise arose and thin voices began to ring:

Form up, platoon! Form up, platoon! Forward to battle! Midnight strikes! Form up, platoon! Forward to battle!

And the harmonious and pleasant chime of melodic bells began.

Oh, but this is my music box! - Marie was delighted and quickly jumped away from the closet.

Then she saw that the closet was glowing strangely and there was some kind of fuss and fuss going on in it.

The dolls ran back and forth randomly and waved their arms. Suddenly the Nutcracker got up, threw off the blanket and, jumping off the bed in one leap, shouted loudly:

Click-click-click, stupid mouse regiment! That will do some good, mouse regiment! Click-click, a regiment of mice - rushing from the cracks - good things will come out!

And at the same time he pulled out his tiny saber, waved it in the air and shouted:

Hey you, my faithful vassals, friends and brothers! Will you stand up for me in a difficult battle?

And immediately three Scaramouches, Pantalone, four chimney sweeps, two traveling musicians and a drummer responded:

Yes, our sovereign, we are faithful to you until the grave! Lead us into battle - to death or victory!

And they rushed after the Nutcracker, who, burning with enthusiasm, dared to make a desperate jump from the top shelf. It was good for them to jump: not only were they dressed in silk and velvet, but their bodies were also stuffed with cotton wool and sawdust; so they flopped down like bags of wool. But poor Nutcracker would probably have broken his arms and legs; just think - from the shelf where it stood to the bottom it was almost two feet, and it itself was fragile, as if carved from linden. Yes, the Nutcracker would probably have broken his arms and legs if, at the very moment he jumped, Mamselle Clerchen had not jumped off the sofa and taken the hero shaking his sword into her tender embrace.

Oh dear, kind Clerchen! - Marie exclaimed in tears, - how wrong I was about you! Of course, you gave up the crib to your friend the Nutcracker with all your heart.

And then Mamzel Clerchen spoke, gently pressing the young hero to her silken chest:

Is it possible for you, sir, to go into battle, towards danger, sick and with wounds that have not yet healed? Look, your brave vassals are gathering, they are eager to fight and are confident of victory. Scaramouche, Pantalone, chimney sweeps, musicians and a drummer are already downstairs, and among the dolls with surprises on my shelf, a strong animation and movement is noticeable. Deign, O sir, to rest on my chest, or agree to contemplate your victory from the height of my hat, decorated with feathers. - That's what Clerchen said; but the Nutcracker behaved in a completely inappropriate manner and kicked so much that Clerchen had to quickly put him on the shelf. At the same moment he very politely dropped to one knee and muttered:

O beautiful lady, even on the battlefield I will not forget the mercy and favor you showed me!

Then Clerchen bent down so low that she grabbed him by the handle, carefully lifted him, quickly untied the sequined sash on herself and was about to put it on the little man, but he stepped back two steps, pressed his hand to his heart and said very solemnly:

O beautiful lady, do not deign to lavish your favors on me, for... - he paused, took a deep breath, quickly tore from his shoulder the ribbon that Marie had tied for him, pressed it to his lips, tied it on his hand in the form of a scarf and, enthusiastically waving the sparkling naked sword, jumped quickly and deftly, like a bird, from the edge of the shelf to the floor.

You, of course, immediately understood, my supportive and very attentive listeners, that the Nutcracker, even before he truly came to life, already perfectly felt the love and care with which Marie surrounded him, and that it was only out of sympathy for her that he did not want to accept from Mamzel Klerchen her belt, despite the fact that it was very beautiful and sparkled all over. The faithful, noble Nutcracker preferred to adorn himself with Marie's modest ribbon. But what will happen next?

As soon as the Nutcracker jumped onto the sang, the squealing and squeaking arose again. Ah, after all, countless hordes of evil mice have gathered under the big table, and in front of them all stands a disgusting mouse with seven heads!

Will something happen?

BATTLE

Drummer, my faithful vassal, strike the general offensive! - The Nutcracker commanded loudly.

And immediately the drummer began to beat out the roll in the most skillful manner, so that the glass doors of the cabinet trembled and rattled. And in the closet something rattled and crackled, and Marie saw how all the boxes in which Fritz’s troops were quartered opened at once, and the soldiers jumped out of them straight onto the bottom shelf and lined up there in shiny rows. The Nutcracker ran along the ranks, inspiring the troops with his speeches.

Where are these scoundrel trumpeters? Why don't they trumpet? - the Nutcracker shouted in his hearts. Then he quickly turned to the slightly pale Pantaloon, whose long chin was shaking violently, and solemnly said: General, I know your valor and experience. It's all about quickly assessing the position and taking advantage of the moment. I entrust you with command of all cavalry and artillery. You don't need a horse - you have very long legs, so you can gallop perfectly on your own two feet. Do your duty!

Pantalone immediately put his long, dry fingers into his mouth and whistled so shrilly, as if a hundred pipes were singing loudly at once. Neighing and stomping were heard in the closet, and - look! - Fritz's cuirassiers and dragoons, and ahead of all the new, brilliant hussars, set out on a campaign and soon found themselves below, on the floor. And so the regiments, one after another, marched in front of the Nutcracker with flying banners and the beating of drums and lined up in wide rows across the entire room. All Fritz's cannons, accompanied by the gunners, rode forward with a roar and began to thump: boom-boom! .. And Marie saw how the Dragee flew into the dense hordes of mice, powdering them white with sugar, which made them very embarrassed. But what caused the most damage to the mice was a heavy battery that drove onto my mother’s footstool and - boom-boom! - continuously fired round gingerbread cookies at the enemy, which killed many mice.

However, the mice kept advancing and even captured several cannons; but then there was a noise and a roar - trrr-trrr! - and because of the smoke and dust, Marie could hardly make out what was happening. One thing was clear: both armies fought with great ferocity, and victory passed to one side or the other. The mice brought more and more strength into the battle, and the silver pills, which they threw very skillfully, reached the very closet. Klerchen and Trudchen rushed around the shelf and broke their handles in despair.

Am I really going to die in my prime, am I really going to die, such a beautiful doll! screamed Clerchen.

That’s not why I was so well preserved to die here, within four walls! - Trudchen lamented.

Then they fell into each other's arms and cried so loudly that even the furious roar of the battle could not drown them out.

You have no idea, my dear listeners, what was going on here. Over and over again the guns boomed: prr-prr! ..Dr-dr! .. Fuck-gobble-fuck-gobble! .. Boom-burum-boom-burum-boom! .. And then the mouse king and mice squealed and squealed, and then the menacing and powerful voice of the Nutcracker commanding the battle was heard again. And it was clear how he himself walked around his battalions under fire.

Pantalone led several extremely valiant cavalry charges and covered himself with glory. But the mouse artillery bombarded Fritz’s hussars with disgusting, stinking cannonballs, which left terrible stains on their red uniforms, which is why the hussars did not rush forward. Pantalone commanded them to “fairly circle” and, inspired by the role of the commander, he himself turned left, followed by the cuirassiers and dragoons, and the entire cavalry went home. Now the position of the battery, which had taken up a position on the footstool, became threatened; I didn’t have to wait long before hordes of nasty mice swarmed in and rushed to attack so fiercely that they overturned the bench along with the cannons and gunners. The Nutcracker, apparently, was very puzzled and ordered a retreat on the right flank. You know, O my highly experienced listener Fritz, that such a maneuver means almost the same thing as escaping from the battlefield, and you, along with me, are already lamenting the failure that was to befall the army of Marie’s little favorite, the Nutcracker. But turn your gaze away from this misfortune and look at the left flank of the Nutcracker army, where everything is quite well and the commander and army are still full of hope. In the heat of battle, detachments of mouse cavalry quietly emerged from under the chest of drawers and, with a disgusting squeak, furiously attacked the left flank of the Nutcracker army; but what resistance they met! Slowly, as far as the uneven terrain allowed, for it was necessary to get over the edge of the closet, the corps of dolls with surprises, led by two Chinese emperors, stepped out and formed a square. These brave, very colorful and elegant, magnificent regiments, composed of gardeners, Tyroleans, Tungus, hairdressers, harlequins, cupids, lions, tigers, monkeys and monkeys, fought with composure, courage and endurance. With courage worthy of the Spartans, this selected battalion would have snatched victory from the hands of the enemy, if a certain brave enemy captain had not broken through with insane courage to one of the Chinese emperors and bit off his head, and when he fell, he had not crushed two Tungus and a monkey. As a result, a gap was formed, into which the enemy rushed; and soon the entire battalion was chewed to pieces. But the enemy gained little from this atrocity. As soon as the bloodthirsty soldier of the mouse cavalry chewed one of his brave opponents in half, a printed piece of paper fell directly into his throat, causing him to die on the spot. But did this help the Nutcracker army, which, having once begun its retreat, retreated further and further and suffered more and more losses, so that soon only a handful of daredevils with the ill-fated Nutcracker at their head still held on to the closet itself? “Reserves, here! Pantalone, Scaramouche, drummer, where are you? cried the Nutcracker, counting on the arrival of fresh forces that were to emerge from the glass cabinet. It is true that from there came several brown men from Thorn, with golden faces and golden helmets and hats; but they fought so ineptly that they never hit the enemy and would probably have knocked the cap of their commander, the Nutcracker, off his head. The enemy huntsmen soon bit off their legs, so that they fell and at the same time crushed many of the Nutcracker's companions. Now the Nutcracker, pressed on all sides by the enemy, was in great danger. He wanted to jump over the edge of the closet, but his legs were too short. Klerchen and Trudchen lay in a faint - they could not help him. Hussars and dragoons galloped briskly past him straight into the closet. Then, in extreme despair, he loudly exclaimed:

Horse, horse! Half a kingdom for a horse!

At that moment, two enemy archers grabbed his wooden cloak, and the mouse king jumped up to the Nutcracker, emitting a victorious squeak from all his seven throats.

Marie no longer controlled herself.

Oh my poor Nutcracker! - she exclaimed, sobbing, and, not realizing what she was doing, she took off the shoe from her left foot and threw it with all her might into the thick of the mice, right at their king.

At that same moment, everything seemed to crumble into dust, and Marie felt pain in her left elbow, even more burning than before, and fell unconscious to the floor.

DISEASE

When Marie woke up after a deep sleep, she saw that she was lying in her bed, and through the frozen windows a bright, sparkling sun was shining into the room.

Sitting next to her bed was a stranger, whom she, however, soon recognized as the surgeon Wendelstern. He said in a low voice:

She finally woke up...

Then her mother came up and looked at her with a frightened, inquisitive gaze.

“Oh, dear mother,” Marie stammered, “tell me: have the nasty mice finally gone away and the glorious Nutcracker has been saved?”

That's a lot of nonsense to talk about, dear Marichen! - objected the mother. - Well, what do mice need your Nutcracker for? But you, bad girl, scared us to death. This always happens when children are willful and disobey their parents. Yesterday you played with dolls until late at night, then dozed off, and, probably, you were scared by a random mouse: after all, in fact, we don’t have mice. In a word, you broke the glass in the closet with your elbow and injured your hand. It's good that you didn't cut your vein with the glass! Dr. Wendelstern, who was just now removing the fragments stuck there from your wound, says that you would remain crippled for the rest of your life and might even bleed to death. Thank God I woke up at midnight, saw that you were still not in the bedroom, and went to the living room. You were lying unconscious on the floor by the closet, covered in blood. I almost lost consciousness out of fear. You were lying on the floor, and there were scattered around tin soldiers Fritz, various toys, broken dolls with surprises and gingerbread men. You held the Nutcracker in your left hand, from which blood was oozing, and your shoe was lying nearby...

Oh, mommy, mommy! - Marie interrupted her. - After all, these were traces great battle between dolls and mice! That’s why I was so scared, because the mice wanted to take prisoner the poor Nutcracker, who commanded the puppet army. Then I threw my shoe at the mice, and I don’t know what happened next.

Doctor Wendelstern winked at his mother, and she very affectionately began to persuade Marie:

All right, all right, my dear baby, calm down! The mice have all run away, and the Nutcracker is standing behind glass in the closet, safe and sound.

Then the medical adviser entered the bedroom and started a long conversation with the surgeon Wendelstern, then he felt Marie’s pulse, and she heard that they were talking about the fever caused by the wound.

For several days she had to lie in bed and swallow medicine, although, apart from the pain in her elbow, she felt almost no discomfort. She knew that the dear Nutcracker had come out of the battle unharmed, and at times it seemed to her, as if in a dream, that he was telling her in a very clear, although extremely sad voice: “Marie, beautiful lady, I owe you a lot, but you can do for me even more."

Marie wondered in vain what it could be, but nothing came to her mind. She couldn’t really play because of her sore hand, and if she started reading or leafing through picture books, her eyes would blur, so she had to give up this activity. Therefore, time dragged on endlessly for her, and Marie could hardly wait until dusk, when her mother sat by her crib and read and told all sorts of wonderful stories.

And now the mother had just finished an entertaining tale about Prince Facardin, when suddenly the door opened and godfather Drosselmeyer entered.

“Come on, let me look at our poor wounded Marie,” he said.

As soon as Marie saw her godfather in an ordinary yellow frock coat, the night when the Nutcracker was defeated in the battle with the mice flashed before her eyes with all vividness, and she involuntarily shouted to the senior councilor of the court:

Oh godfather, how disgusting you are! I saw perfectly well how you sat on the clock and hung your wings on it so that the clock would strike more quietly and would not frighten off the mice. I heard perfectly well how you called the mouse king. Why didn’t you rush to help the Nutcracker, why didn’t you rush to help me, ugly godfather? You alone are to blame for everything. Because of you, I cut my hand and now I have to lie sick in bed!

The mother asked in fear:

What's the matter with you, dear Marie?

But the godfather made a strange face and spoke in a crackling, monotonous voice:

The pendulum moves with a creak. Less knocking - that's the thing. Trick-and-Track! The pendulum must always creak and sing songs. And when the bell rings: boom-and-bom! - the deadline is approaching. Don't be scared, my friend. The clock strikes on time and by the way, to the death of the mouse army, and then the owl flies off. One-and-two and one-and-two! The clock strikes when they have a deadline. The pendulum moves with a creak. Less knocking - that's the thing. Tick-and-tock and trick-and-trick!

Marie wide with open eyes stared at her godfather, because he seemed completely different and much uglier than usual, and he waved his right hand back and forth, like a clown being pulled by a string.

She would have been very frightened if her mother had not been there and if Fritz, who had slipped into the bedroom, had not interrupted his godfather with a loud laugh.

“Oh, godfather Drosselmeyer,” exclaimed Fritz, “today you are so funny again!” You are acting just like my clown, whom I threw behind the stove long ago.

The mother was still very serious and said:

Dear Mr. Senior Advisor, this is a really strange joke. What do you mean?

My God, have you forgotten my favorite watchmaker song? answered Drosselmeyer, laughing. “I always sing it to people who are sick like Marie.”

And he quickly sat down by the bed and said:

Don’t be angry that I didn’t scratch out all fourteen of the mouse king’s eyes at once - that couldn’t have been done. But now I will please you.

With these words, the senior court adviser reached into his pocket and carefully pulled out - what do you think, children? - The Nutcracker, to whom he very skillfully inserted lost teeth and set his sore jaw.

Marie screamed with joy, and her mother said, smiling:

You see how much your godfather cares about your Nutcracker...

But admit it, Marie,” the godfather interrupted Mrs. Stahlbaum, because the Nutcracker is not very well-built and unattractive. If you want to listen, I will gladly tell you how such a deformity appeared in his family and became hereditary there. Or maybe you already know the fairy tale about Princess Pirlipat, the witch Myshilda and the skilled watchmaker?

Listen, godfather! - Fritz intervened in the conversation. - What is true is true: you perfectly inserted the teeth into the Nutcracker, and the jaw no longer wobbles either. But why doesn't he have a saber? Why didn't you tie a saber to him?

Well, you restless one,” grumbled the senior court adviser, “there’s no way to please you!” The Nutcracker's saber doesn't concern me. I cured him - let him get himself a saber wherever he wants.

Right! - exclaimed Fritz. - If he is a brave fellow, he will get himself a weapon.

So, Marie,” the godfather continued, “tell me, do you know the fairy tale about Princess Pirlipat?”

Oh no! - Marie answered. - Tell me, dear godfather, tell me!

I hope, dear Mr. Drosselmeyer,” said my mother, “that this time you will tell something different. a scary fairy tale, as usual.

“Well, of course, dear Mrs. Stahlbaum,” Drosselmeyer replied. On the contrary, what I will have the honor to tell you is very interesting.

Oh, tell me, tell me, dear godfather! - the children shouted.

And the senior court adviser began like this:

THE TALE OF THE HARD NUT

Pirlipat's mother was the king's wife, and therefore a queen, and Pirlipat, as soon as she was born, immediately became a born princess. The king could not stop looking at his beautiful daughter resting in her cradle. He rejoiced loudly, danced, jumped on one leg and shouted every now and then:

Hayza! Has anyone seen a more beautiful girl than my Pirlipathen?

And all the ministers, generals, advisers and staff officers jumped on one leg, like their father and ruler, and answered loudly in chorus:

No, no one saw it!

Yes, to tell the truth, it could not be denied that since the world stood, no more beautiful baby has been born than Princess Pirlipat. Her face seemed to be woven from lily-white and soft pink silk, her eyes were a living, shining azure, and her hair, which curled in golden ringlets, was especially adorned. At the same time, Pirlipatchen was born with two rows of pearl-white teeth, with which two hours after birth she dug into the finger of the Reich Chancellor when he wanted to take a closer look at her facial features, so that he screamed: “Oh-oh-oh! “Some, however, claim that he shouted: “Ay-ay-ay! “Even today, opinions differ. In short, Pirlipatchen actually bit the Reich Chancellor’s finger, and then the admiring people became convinced that the charming, angelic body of Princess Pirlipat contained a soul, a mind, and a feeling.

As said, everyone was delighted; one queen, for some unknown reason, was worried and worried. It was especially strange that she ordered vigilant guarding of Pirlipat’s cradle. Not only were there drabants at the door, but an order was given that in the nursery, in addition to the two nannies who constantly sat next to the cradle, six more nannies were on duty every night and - which seemed completely absurd and which no one could understand - each nanny was ordered to keep on the cat's lap and pet him all night so that he never stops purring. You, dear children, will never guess why Princess Pirlipat’s mother took all these measures, but I know why and now I’ll tell you.

Once upon a time, many glorious kings and handsome princes came to the court of the king, the parent of Princess Pirlipat. For this occasion brilliant tournaments, performances and court balls were organized. The king, wanting to show that he had a lot of gold and silver, decided to properly dip his hand into his treasury and organize a festival worthy of him. Therefore, having learned from the chief cook that the court astrologer had announced a time favorable for slaughtering pigs, he decided to have a sausage feast, jumped into the carriage and personally invited all the surrounding kings and princes just to a plate of soup, dreaming of then surprising them with luxury. Then he very affectionately said to his queen wife:

Darling, you know what kind of sausage I like...

The Queen already knew where he was going with his speech: this meant that she should personally engage in a very useful task - making sausages, which she had not disdained before. The chief treasurer was ordered to immediately send a large golden cauldron and silver pans to the kitchen; the stove was lit with sandalwood wood; the queen knitted her damask kitchen apron. And soon a delicious smell of sausage brew wafted out of the cauldron. The pleasant smell even penetrated into the State Council. The king, trembling with delight, could not stand it.

I apologize, gentlemen! - he exclaimed, ran to the kitchen, hugged the queen, stirred the cauldron a little with a golden scepter and, reassured, returned to the State Council.

The most important point: It was time to cut the lard into slices and fry it in golden pans. The court ladies stepped aside, because the queen, out of devotion, love and respect for her royal husband, was going to personally take care of this matter. But as soon as the lard began to brown, a thin, whispering voice was heard:

Let me taste the salsa too, sister! And I want to feast on it - I’m also a queen. Let me taste the salsa too!

The Queen knew very well that it was Mrs. Myshilda speaking. Myshilda had been living in the royal palace for many years. She claimed that she was related to the royal family and that she herself ruled the kingdom of Myshland, which is why she kept a large court under her kidney. The queen was a kind and generous woman. Although in general she did not consider Myshilda to be a special member of the royal family and her sister, but on such a solemn day she allowed her to the feast with all her heart and shouted:

Get out, Mrs. Myshilda! Eat some salsa for your health.

And Myshilda quickly and cheerfully jumped out from under the stove, jumped onto the stove and began to grab with her graceful paws one after another the pieces of lard that the queen held out to her. But then all Myshilda’s godmothers and aunties and even her seven sons, desperate tomboys, came rushing in. They attacked the lard, and the queen was frightened and did not know what to do. Fortunately, the Chief Chamberlain arrived in time and drove away the uninvited guests. Thus, a little lard survived, which, according to the instructions of the court mathematician called for this occasion, was very skillfully distributed among all the sausages.

They beat the kettledrums and blew the trumpets. All the kings and princes in magnificent festive attire - some on white horses, others in crystal carriages - were drawn to the sausage feast. The king greeted them with cordial friendliness and honor, and then, wearing a crown and scepter, as befits a sovereign, he sat down at the head of the table. Already when the liverwurst was served, the guests noticed how the king turned more and more pale, how he raised his eyes to the sky. Quiet sighs flowed from his chest; it seemed that his soul was overcome by intense grief. But when the blood sausage was served, he leaned back in his chair with loud sobs and groans, covering his face with both hands. Everyone jumped up from the table. The life doctor tried in vain to feel the pulse of the ill-fated king, who seemed to be consumed by a deep, incomprehensible melancholy. Finally, after much persuasion, after using strong remedies, like burnt goose feathers and the like, the king seemed to begin to come to his senses. He stammered barely audibly:

Too little fat!

Then the inconsolable queen fell at his feet and moaned:

O my poor, unfortunate royal husband! Oh, what grief you had to endure! But look: the culprit is at your feet - punish me, punish me severely! Ah, Myshilda with her godmothers, aunts and seven sons ate lard, and...

With these words the queen fell on her back unconscious. But the king jumped up, burning with anger, and shouted loudly:

Chief Minister, how did this happen?

The Chief Chamberlain told what she knew, and the king decided to take revenge on Myshilda and her family because they ate the lard intended for his sausages.

A secret council of state was convened. They decided to initiate proceedings against Myshilda and take away all her possessions for the treasury. But the king believed that for now this would not prevent Myshilda from eating lard whenever she wanted, and therefore entrusted the whole matter to the court watchmaker and wizard. This man, whose name was the same as mine, namely Christian Elias Drosselmeyer, promised, with the help of very special measures, full of state wisdom, to expel Myshilda and her entire family from the palace forever and ever.

And indeed: he invented very skillful machines, in which fried lard was tied on a string, and placed them around the home of the lady salo eater.

Myshilda herself was too wise from experience not to understand Drosselmeyer’s cunning, but neither her warnings nor her admonitions helped: all seven sons and many, many of Myshilda’s godfathers and aunts, attracted by the delicious smell of fried lard, climbed into Drosselmeyer’s cars - and only wanted feast on lard, when they were suddenly slammed by a falling door, and then they were put to shameful execution in the kitchen. Myshilda, with a small group of surviving relatives, left these places of sorrow and crying. Grief, despair, a thirst for revenge bubbled in her chest.

The court rejoiced, but the queen was alarmed: she knew Myshilda’s character and understood very well that she would not leave the death of her sons and loved ones unavenged.

And in fact, Myshilda appeared just when the queen was preparing liver pate for the royal husband, which he very willingly ate, and said this:

My sons, godmothers and aunts were killed. Beware, queen: lest the queen of mice kill the little princess! Beware!

Then she disappeared again and never appeared again. But the queen, out of fright, dropped the pate into the fire, and for the second time Myshilda spoiled the king’s favorite dish, at which he was very angry...

Well, that's enough for tonight. “I’ll tell you the rest next time,” the godfather unexpectedly finished.

No matter how Marie, who was especially impressed by the story, asked to continue, godfather Drosselmeyer was relentless and said: “Too much at once is harmful to health; to be continued tomorrow,” he jumped up from his chair.

At that moment, when he was about to go out the door, Fritz asked:

Tell me, godfather, is it really true that you invented a mousetrap?

What nonsense are you talking about, Fritz! - exclaimed the mother.

But the senior court adviser smiled very strangely and said quietly:

Why shouldn’t I, a skilled watchmaker, invent a mousetrap?

CONTINUATION OF THE TALE OF THE HARD NUT

Well, children, now you know,” Drosselmeyer continued the next evening, “why the queen ordered the beautiful Princess Pirlipat to be guarded so vigilantly. How could she not be afraid that Myshilda would fulfill her threat - she would return and bite the little princess to death! Drosselmeyer's machine did not help at all against the smart and prudent Myshilda, and the court astrologer, who was also the main predictor, said that only the genus of the cat Murra could drive Myshilda away from the cradle. That is why each nanny was ordered to hold on her lap one of the sons of this family, who, by the way, were awarded the chip of a privy councilor of the embassy, ​​and to ease the burden of public service with a polite scratching behind the ear.

Once, already at midnight, one of the two chief nannies, who were sitting right next to the cradle, suddenly woke up, as if from a deep sleep. Everything around was engulfed in sleep. No purring - deep, dead silence, only the ticking of the grinder bug can be heard. But what did the nanny feel when right in front of her she saw a big nasty mouse that rose on its hind legs and laid its ominous head on the princess’s face! The nanny jumped up with a cry of horror, everyone woke up, but at the same moment Myshilda - after all, she was the big mouse at Pirlipat's cradle - quickly darted into the corner of the room. The embassy advisers rushed after her, but that was not the case: she slipped through a crack in the floor. Pirlipatkhen woke up from the commotion and began to cry very pitifully.

Thank God,” the nannies exclaimed, “she’s alive!”

But how frightened they were when they looked at Pirlipatchen and saw what had become of the pretty, gentle baby! On the frail, crouching body, instead of the curly head of a ruddy cherub, sat a huge shapeless head; The azure-blue eyes turned into green, stupidly staring eyes, and the mouth stretched to the ears.

The queen burst into tears and sobs, and the king’s office had to be lined with cotton wool, because the king was banging his head against the wall and wailing in a plaintive voice:

Oh, I'm an unfortunate monarch!

Now the king, it seemed, could understand that it was better to eat the sausage without lard and leave Myshilda alone with all her baked relatives, but the princess’s father Pirlipat did not think about this - he simply blamed all the blame on the court watchmaker and wizard Christian Elias Drosselmeyer from Nuremberg and gave a wise order: “Drosselmeyer must return Princess Pirlipat to her former appearance within a month, or at least indicate the correct means for this - otherwise he will be sold to a shameful death at the hands of the executioner.”

Drosselmeyer was seriously scared. However, he relied on his skill and happiness and immediately began the first operation, which he considered necessary. He very deftly took Princess Pirlipat apart, unscrewed the arms and legs and examined the internal structure, but, unfortunately, he was convinced that with age the princess would become uglier and uglier, and did not know how to help the trouble. He again diligently gathered the princess and fell into despondency near her cradle, from which he did not dare leave.

It was already the fourth week, Wednesday came, and the king, his eyes sparkling with anger and shaking his scepter, looked into Pirlipat’s nursery and exclaimed:

Christian Elias Drosselmeyer, heal the princess, otherwise you will be in trouble!

Drosselmeyer began to cry pitifully, while Princess Pirlipat cheerfully cracked nuts. For the first time, the watchmaker and wizard was struck by her extraordinary love for nuts and the fact that she was born with teeth. In fact, after the transformation she screamed incessantly until she accidentally came across a nut; she chewed it, ate the kernel and immediately calmed down. Since then, the nannies kept calming her down with nuts.

O holy instinct of nature, inscrutable sympathy of all things! exclaimed Christian Elias Drosselmeyer. - You show me the gates of mystery. I'll knock and they'll open!

He immediately asked permission to speak with the court astrologer and was taken to him under strict guard. Both, bursting into tears, fell into each other's arms, as they were bosom friends, then retired to a secret office and began to rummage through books that talked about instinct, likes and dislikes and other mysterious phenomena.

Night has fallen. The court astrologer looked at the stars and, with the help of Drosselmeyer, a great expert in this matter, compiled a horoscope for Princess Pirlipat. It was very difficult to do this, because the lines became more and more tangled, but - oh, joy! - finally everything became clear: in order to get rid of the magic that disfigured her and regain her former beauty, Princess Pirlipat had only to eat the kernel of the Krakatuk nut.

The Krakatuk nut had such a hard shell that a forty-eight-pound cannon could run over it without crushing it. This hard nut had to be chewed and, with his eyes closed, presented to the princess by a man who had never shaved or worn boots. Then the young man had to step back seven steps without stumbling, and only then open his eyes.

For three days and three nights Drosselmeyer and the astrologer worked tirelessly, and just on Saturday, when the king was sitting at dinner, a joyful and cheerful Drosselmeyer, who was supposed to have his head blown off on Sunday morning, burst into his room and announced that a means had been found to return Pirlipat to the princess. lost beauty. The king embraced him warmly and favorably and promised him a diamond sword, four orders and two new festive caftans.

After lunch we will begin immediately,” the king added kindly. Make sure, dear wizard, that the unshaven young man in boots is at hand and, as expected, with a Krakatuk nut. And don’t give him wine, otherwise he might stumble when, like a cancer, he takes seven steps back. Then let him drink to his heart's content!

Drosselmeyer was frightened by the king's speech, and, embarrassed and timid, he babbled that the remedy had indeed been found, but that both - the nut and the young man who was supposed to crack it - must first be found, and it was still very doubtful whether it was possible to find nut and nutcracker. In great anger, the king shook the scepter over the crowned head and roared like a lion:

Well, then they'll blow your head off!

Fortunately for Drosselmeyer, who was plunged into fear and grief, just today the king really liked the dinner, and therefore he was disposed to listen to reasonable admonitions, which the magnanimous queen, touched by the fate of the unfortunate watchmaker, did not skimp on. Drosselmeyer perked up and respectfully reported to the king that, in fact, he had solved the problem - he had found a means to cure the princess, and thereby deserved a pardon. The king called this a stupid excuse and empty chatter, but in the end, after drinking a glass of stomach tincture, he decided that both the watchmaker and the astrologer would set off and not return until they had a Krakatuk nut in their pocket. And on the advice of the queen, they decided to get the person needed to crack the nut through repeated advertisements in local and foreign newspapers and bulletins with an invitation to come to the palace...

Godfather Drosselmeyer stopped there and promised to tell the rest the next evening.

THE END OF THE TALE OF THE HARD NUT

And in fact, the next day in the evening, as soon as the candles were lit, godfather Drosselmeyer appeared and continued his story:

Drosselmeyer and the court astrologer had been traveling for fifteen years and still had not found the trail of the Krakatuk nut. Where they visited, what outlandish adventures they experienced, it’s impossible to tell, children, and for the whole month. I am not going to do this, but I will tell you directly that, immersed in deep despondency, Drosselmeyer greatly missed his homeland, his dear Nuremberg. A particularly strong melancholy attacked him one day in Asia, in a dense forest, where he and his companion sat down to smoke a pipe of knaster.

“Oh, my wondrous, wondrous Nuremberg, whoever is not yet acquainted with you, even if he has been to Vienna, Paris and Peterwardein, his soul will yearn for you, O Nuremberg, he will strive - a wonderful town where in a row beautiful houses are standing."

Drosselmeyer's pitiful lamentations evoked deep sympathy from the astrologer, and he, too, burst into tears so bitterly that he could be heard throughout Asia. But he pulled himself together, wiped away his tears and asked:

Honorable colleague, why are we sitting here and roaring? Why don't we go to Nuremberg? Does it matter where and how to look for the ill-fated Krakatuk nut?

And that’s true,” Drosselmeyer answered, immediately consoled.

Both immediately stood up, knocked out their pipes and went straight from the forest in the depths of Asia to Nuremberg.

As soon as they arrived, Drosselmeyer immediately ran to his cousin - the toy maker, wood turner, varnisher and gilder Christoph Zacharius Drosselmeyer, whom he had not seen for many, many years. It was to him that the watchmaker told the whole story about Princess Pirlipat, Mrs. Myshilda and the Krakatuk nut, and he kept throwing up his hands and exclaimed several times in surprise:

Oh, brother, brother, what miracles!

Drosselmeyer told about the adventures on his long journey, told how he spent two years with the Date King, how the Almond Prince offended and kicked him out, how in vain he asked the society of naturalists in the city of Belok - in short, how he never managed to find a trace of the nut anywhere Krakatuk. During the story, Christoph Zacharius repeatedly snapped his fingers, spun on one leg, smacked his lips and said:

Hm, hm! Hey! That's the thing!

Finally, he threw the cap and wig to the ceiling, warmly hugged his cousin and exclaimed:

Brother, brother, you are saved, saved, I say! Listen: either I’m cruelly mistaken, or I have the Krakatuk nut!

He immediately brought a box, from which he pulled out a medium-sized gilded nut.

Look,” he said, showing the nut to his cousin, “look at this nut.” His story is like this. Many years ago, on Christmas Eve, an unknown man came here with a full sack of nuts that he had brought to sell. At the very door of my toy shop, he put the bag on the ground so that it would be easier to act, since he had a clash with the local nut seller, who could not tolerate someone else’s seller. At that moment the bag was run over by a heavily loaded truck. All the nuts were crushed, with the exception of one, which was a stranger, smiling strangely, and offered to give it to me for the zwanziger of one thousand seven hundred and twenty. It seemed mysterious to me, but I found in my pocket exactly the kind of zwanziger he asked for, bought a nut and gilded it. I don’t really know why I paid so much for the nut, and then took such care of it.

Any doubt that the cousin’s nut was really the Krakatuk nut that they had been looking for for so long was immediately dispelled when the court astrologer, who arrived in time for the call, carefully scraped off the gilding from the nut and found the word “Krakatuk” carved in Chinese characters on the shell.

The joy of the travelers was enormous, and cousin Drosselmeyer considered himself the happiest man in the world when Drosselmeyer assured him that happiness was guaranteed for him, because from now on, in addition to a significant pension, he would receive gold for gilding for free.

Both the wizard and the astrologer had already put on their nightcaps and were about to go to bed, when suddenly the latter, that is, the astrologer, made the following speech:

Dearest colleague, happiness never comes alone. Believe me, we found not only the Krakatuk nut, but also a young man who will crack it and present the princess with the kernel - a guarantee of beauty. I mean none other than your cousin's son. No, I won’t go to bed, he exclaimed with inspiration. - I’ll draw up the young man’s horoscope tonight! - With these words, he tore the cap off his head and immediately began to watch the stars.

Drosselmeyer's nephew was indeed a handsome, well-built young man who had never shaved or put on a boot. In his early youth, it is true, he portrayed a clown for two Christmases in a row; but this was not the least noticeable: he was so skillfully raised through the efforts of his father. At Christmas time he wore a beautiful red caftan embroidered with gold, a sword, a hat under his arm and an excellent wig with a pigtail. In such a brilliant appearance, he stood in his father’s shop and, with his characteristic gallantry, cracked nuts for the young ladies, for which they nicknamed him the Handsome Nutcracker.

The next morning, the delighted star fell into Drosselmeyer’s arms and exclaimed:

It's him! We got it, it's found! Only, my dear colleague, you should not lose sight of two circumstances: firstly, you need to weave a solid wooden braid for your excellent nephew, which would be connected to the lower jaw in such a way that it could be pulled back strongly with the braid; then, upon arrival in the capital, we must remain silent about the fact that we brought with us a young man who will crack the Krakatuk nut, it is better that he appears much later. I read in the horoscope that after many people break their teeth on a nut to no avail, the king will give the princess, and after death, the kingdom as a reward to the one who cracks the nut and returns Pirlipat’s lost beauty.

The toy maker was very flattered that his son was to marry the princess and become a prince himself, and then a king, and therefore he willingly entrusted him to the astrologer and watchmaker. The braid that Drosselmeyer gave to his promising young nephew was a great success, so that he passed the test brilliantly, biting through the hardest peach pits.

Drosselmeyer and the astrologer immediately let the capital know that the Krakatuk nut had been found, and there they immediately published a proclamation, and when our travelers arrived with a talisman that restored beauty, many beautiful young men and even princes had already appeared at the court, relying on their healthy jaws , wanted to try to remove the evil spell from the princess.

Our travelers were very frightened when they saw the princess. A small body with skinny arms and legs could barely hold up a shapeless head. The face seemed even uglier because of the white thread beard that covered his mouth and chin.

Everything happened as the court astrologer read in the horoscope. One after another, the booted milksuckers broke their teeth and tore their jaws, but the princess did not feel any better; when they were then carried away in a semi-fainting state by the dentists invited for this occasion, they moaned:

Go ahead and crack this nut!

Finally, the king, in contrition of heart, promised a daughter and a kingdom to the one who would disenchant the princess. It was then that our polite and modest young Drosselmeyer volunteered and asked permission to try his luck too.

Princess Pirlipat liked no one as much as young Drosselmeyer, she pressed her hands to her heart and sighed from the depths of her soul: “Oh, if only he could crack the Krakatuk nut and become my husband! "

Having politely bowed to the king and queen, and then to Princess Pirlipat, young Drosselmeyer accepted the Krakatuk nut from the hands of the master of ceremonies, put it in his mouth without much conversation, tugged hard on his braid and Click-click! - Cracked the shell into pieces. He deftly cleared the kernel from the stuck-on peel and, closing his eyes, brought it to the princess with a respectful shuffle of his foot, then began to back away. The princess immediately swallowed the kernel, and oh, miracle! - the freak disappeared, and in his place stood a girl as beautiful as an angel, with a face as if woven from lily-white and pink silk, with eyes shining like azure, with curly ringlets of golden hair.

Trumpets and timpani joined in the loud rejoicing of the people. The king and the entire court danced on one leg, as at the birth of Princess Pirlipat, and the queen had to be sprayed with cologne, as she fainted from joy and delight.

The resulting commotion rather confused young Drosselmeyer, who still had to take the required seven steps back. Still, he held on perfectly and had already raised his right leg for the seventh step, but then Myshilda crawled out of the underground with a disgusting squeak and squeal. Young Drosselmeyer, who had lowered his foot, stepped on it and stumbled so much that he almost fell.

Oh, evil fate! In an instant, the young man became as ugly as Princess Pirlipat had been before. The body shrank and could barely support the huge shapeless head with large, bulging eyes and a wide, ugly gaping mouth. Instead of a scythe, a narrow wooden cloak hung at the back, with which one could control the lower jaw.

The watchmaker and astrologer were beside themselves with horror, but they noticed that Mouseilda was squirming on the floor covered in blood. Her villainy did not go unpunished: young Drosselmeyer hit her hard on the neck with a sharp heel, and that was the end of her.

But Myshilda, seized by her death throes, squealed and squealed pitifully:

O solid, solid Krakatuk, I cannot escape the pains of death! .. Hee-hee... Pee-wee... But, the cunning Nutcracker, your end will come too: my son, the mouse king, will not forgive my death - the army of the mouse will take revenge on you for your mother. O life, you were bright - and death came for me... Quick!

Squeaking in last time, Myshilda died, and the royal stoker carried her away.

Nobody paid attention to young Drosselmeyer. However, the princess reminded her father of his promise, and the king immediately ordered the young hero to be brought to Pirlipat. But when the poor fellow appeared before her in all his ugliness, the princess covered her face with both hands and shouted:

Get out of here, you nasty Nutcracker!

And immediately the marshal grabbed him by the narrow shoulders and pushed him out.

The king was inflamed with anger, deciding that they wanted to force the Nutcracker to be his son-in-law, blamed the unlucky watchmaker and astrologer for everything, and expelled both of them from the capital forever. This was not provided for by the horoscope compiled by the astrologer in Nuremberg, but he did not fail to start observing the stars again and read that young Drosselmeyer would behave excellently in his new rank and, despite all his ugliness, would become a prince and king. But his ugliness will disappear only if the seven-headed son of Myshilda, who was born after the death of his seven older brothers and became the mouse king, falls at the hands of the Nutcracker and if, despite his ugly appearance, a beautiful lady falls in love with young Drosselmeyer. They say that, in fact, at Christmas time they saw young Drosselmeyer in Nuremberg in his father’s shop, although in the form of the Nutcracker, but still in the rank of prince.

Here, children, is a fairy tale about a hard nut. Now you understand why they say: “Go ahead and crack this nut!” “And why are nutcrackers so ugly...

This is how the senior court adviser ended his story.

Marie decided that Pirlipat was a very nasty and ungrateful princess, and Fritz assured that if the Nutcracker was really brave, he would not stand on ceremony with the mouse king and would regain his former beauty.

UNCLE AND NEPHEW

Which of my highly respected readers or listeners has ever been cut by glass knows how painful it is and what a nasty thing it is, since the wound heals very slowly. Marie had to spend almost a whole week in bed, because every time she tried to get up she became dizzy. Nevertheless, in the end she completely recovered and could again jump merrily around the room.

Everything in the glass cabinet shone with newness - trees, flowers, houses, festively dressed dolls, and most importantly, Marie found her cute Nutcracker there, smiling at her from the second shelf, baring two rows of intact teeth. When she, rejoicing with all her heart, looked at her pet, her heart suddenly sank: what if everything that the godfather told was the story about the Nutcracker and his feud with Myshilda and her son - if all this was true? Now she knew that her Nutcracker was young Drosselmeyer from Nuremberg, handsome, but, unfortunately, the nephew of Drosselmeyer’s godfather, bewitched by Myshilda.

During the story, Marie did not doubt for a minute that the skilled watchmaker at the court of Princess Pirlipat’s father was none other than the senior court adviser Drosselmeyer. “But why didn’t your uncle help you, why didn’t he help you?” - Marie lamented, and the conviction grew stronger in her that the battle in which she was present was for the Nutcracker kingdom and the crown. “After all, all the dolls obeyed him, because it is absolutely clear that the prediction of the court astrologer came true and young Drosselmeyer became the king in the doll kingdom.”

Reasoning this way, clever Marie, who endowed the Nutcracker and his vassals with life and the ability to move, was convinced that they were really about to come to life and move. But that was not the case: everything in the closet stood motionless in its place. However, Marie did not even think of giving up her inner conviction - she simply decided that the reason for everything was the witchcraft of Myshilda and her seven-headed son.

Although you are not able to move or say a word, dear Mr. Drosselmeyer, she said to the Nutcracker, I am still sure that you hear me and know how well I treat you. Count on my help when you need it. In any case, I will ask my uncle to help you, if necessary, with his art!

The Nutcracker stood calmly and did not move, but Marie seemed to hear a light sigh sweep through the glass cabinet, causing the glass to ring slightly, but surprisingly melodiously, and a thin, ringing voice, like a bell, sang: “Mary, my friend, my keeper! There is no need for torment - I will be yours.”

Marie had chills running down her spine from fear, but, oddly enough, for some reason she felt very pleased.

It was dusk. The parents entered the room with godfather Drosselmeyer. A little later Louise served tea, and the whole family sat down at the table, chatting merrily. Marie quietly brought her armchair and sat down at her godfather’s feet. Taking a moment when everyone was silent, Marie looked with her big blue eyes straight into the face of the senior court adviser and said:

Now, dear godfather, I know that the Nutcracker is your nephew, young Drosselmeyer from Nuremberg. He became a prince, or rather a king: everything happened as your companion, the astrologer, predicted. But you know that he declared war on the son of Lady Mouseilda, the ugly mouse king. Why don't you help him?

And Marie again told the whole course of the battle at which she was present, and was often interrupted by the loud laughter of her mother and Louise. Only Fritz and Drosselmeyer remained serious.

Where did the girl get such nonsense from? - asked the medical adviser.

Well, she just has a rich imagination,” the mother answered. - In essence, this is delirium generated by a strong fever. “None of this is true,” said Fritz. - My hussars are not such cowards, otherwise I would have shown them!

But the godfather, smiling strangely, sat little Marie on his lap and spoke more affectionately than usual:

Ah, dear Marie, you have been given more than me and all of us. You, like Pirlipat, are a born princess: you rule a beautiful, bright kingdom. But you will have to endure a lot if you take the poor freak Nutcracker under your protection! After all, the mouse king guards him on all paths and roads. Know: not me, but you, you alone can save the Nutcracker. Be persistent and dedicated.

No one - neither Marie nor the others understood what Drosselmeyer meant; and the medical adviser found the godfather’s words so strange that he felt his pulse and said:

You, dear friend, have a strong rush of blood to your head: I will prescribe medicine for you.

Only the medical adviser’s wife shook her head thoughtfully and remarked:

I can guess what Mr. Drosselmeyer means, but I can’t express it in words.

VICTORY

A little time passed, and somehow moonlit night Marie was awakened by a strange knocking sound that seemed to be coming from the corner, as if pebbles were being thrown and rolled there, and from time to time a disgusting squealing and squeaking sound was heard.

Ay, mice, mice, there are mice again! - Marie screamed in fright and wanted to wake up her mother, but the words got stuck in her throat.

She could not even move, because she saw how the mouse king with difficulty crawled out of the hole in the wall and, sparkling with his eyes and crowns, began to scurry around the whole room; suddenly, in one leap, he jumped onto the table that stood right next to Marie’s crib.

Hee hee hee! Give me all the jelly beans, all the marzipan, silly, or I’ll bite your Nutcracker, I’ll bite the Nutcracker! - the mouse king squealed and at the same time disgustedly creaked and gnashed his teeth, and then quickly disappeared into a hole in the wall.

Marie was so frightened by the appearance of the terrible mouse king that the next morning she was completely haggard and could not utter a word from excitement. A hundred times she was going to tell her mother, Louise, or at least Fritz about what happened to her, but she thought: “Will anyone believe me? They'll just make me laugh."

However, it was absolutely clear to her that in order to save the Nutcracker she would have to give up the jelly beans and marzipan. So that evening she placed all her candy on the bottom ledge of the cabinet. The next morning the mother said:

I don't know where the mice in our living room came from. Look, Marie, they, poor things, have eaten all your candies.

And so it was. The voracious mouse king did not like the marzipan with the filling, but he gnawed it with his sharp teeth so much that he had to throw away the remains. Marie did not regret the sweets at all: in the depths of her soul she rejoiced as much as she thought that she had saved the Nutcracker. But what did she feel when the next night a squeak and squeal was heard right next to her ear! Ah, the mouse king was right there, and his eyes sparkled even more disgustingly than last night, and he squealed even more disgustingly through his teeth:

Give me your sugar dolls, silly, or I will gnaw your Nutcracker, gnaw the Nutcracker!

And with these words the terrible mouse king disappeared.

Marie was very upset. The next morning she went to the closet and looked sadly at the sugar and adraganth dolls. And her grief was understandable, because you wouldn’t believe, my attentive listener Marie, what wonderful sugar figurines Marie Stahlbaum had: a cute shepherdess and shepherdess tended a flock of snow-white lambs, and their dog frolicked nearby; right there stood two postmen with letters in their hands and four very pretty couples - dapper young men and girls dressed to the nines, swinging on a Russian swing. Then came the dancers, behind them stood Pachter Feldkümmel with the Virgin of Orleans, whom Marie did not really appreciate, and just in the corner stood a red-cheeked baby - Marie’s favorite... Tears flowed from her eyes.

“Ah, dear Mr. Drosselmeyer,” she exclaimed, turning to the Nutcracker, “what I won’t do to save your life, but, oh, how hard it is!

However, the Nutcracker had such a pitiful look that Marie, who already imagined that the mouse king had opened all his seven mouths and wanted to swallow the unfortunate young man, decided to sacrifice everything for him.

So, in the evening she placed all the sugar dolls on the bottom ledge of the cupboard, where she had previously placed the sweets. She kissed the shepherd, the shepherdess, the sheep; She was the last to take her favorite from the corner - the red-cheeked baby - and put him behind all the other dolls. Fsldkümmel and the Virgin of Orleans were in the front row.

No, this is too much! - Mrs. Stahlbaum exclaimed the next morning. - Apparently, a big, voracious mouse is in charge of the glass cabinet: poor Marie has all her pretty sugar dolls chewed and gnawed off!

Marie, however, could not help but cry, but soon smiled through her tears, because she thought: “What can I do, but the Nutcracker is safe! "

In the evening, when the mother was telling Mr. Drosselmeyer about what the mouse had done in the children’s closet, the father exclaimed:

What a disgusting thing! We just can’t get rid of the nasty mouse that runs the glass cabinet and eats all of poor Marie’s sweets.

Here’s what,” Fritz said cheerfully, “downstairs, at the baker’s, there is a wonderful gray embassy adviser.” I’ll take him upstairs to us: he’ll quickly finish this matter and bite off the mouse’s head, be it Myshilda herself or her son, the mouse king.

And at the same time he will jump on tables and chairs and break glasses and cups, and in general there will be no trouble with him! - the mother finished laughing.

No! - Fritz objected. - This embassy adviser is a clever fellow. I wish I could walk on the roof like he does!

“No, please, we don’t need a cat for the night,” asked Louise, who couldn’t stand cats.

As a matter of fact, Fritz is right,” said the father. - In the meantime, you can set a mousetrap. Do we have mousetraps?

Godfather will make us an excellent mousetrap: after all, he invented them! Fritz shouted.

Everyone laughed, and when Mrs. Stahlbaum said that there was not a single mousetrap in the house, Drosselmeyer said that he had several, and, indeed, immediately ordered an excellent mousetrap to be brought from the house.

The godfather's tale about the hard nut came to life for Fritz and Marie. When the cook fried the lard, Marie turned pale and trembled. Still absorbed in the fairy tale with its wonders, she once even said to the cook Dora, her old friend:

Ah, Your Majesty the Queen, beware of Myshilda and her relatives!

And Fritz drew his saber and said:

Just let them come and I’ll give them a hard time!

But both under the stove and on the stove everything was calm. When the senior court adviser tied a piece of bacon to a thin thread and carefully placed the mousetrap on the glass cabinet, Fritz exclaimed:

Beware, watchmaker godfather, lest the mouse king play a cruel joke on you!

Oh, what it was like for poor Marie the next night! Icy paws ran over her hand, and something rough and nasty touched her cheek and squealed and squealed right in her ear. On her shoulder sat a nasty mouse king; Blood-red drool flowed from his seven gaping mouths, and, gnashing his teeth, he hissed in the ear of Marie, who was numb with horror:

I'll slip away - I'll slip into the crack, I'll duck under the floor, I won't touch the fat, you know that. Come on, give me the pictures, bring the dress here, otherwise there will be trouble, I’m warning you: I’ll catch the Nutcracker and bite you... Hee hee! .. Pee-wee! ... Kwik-kwik!

Marie was very sad, and when the next morning her mother said: “But the ugly mouse still hasn’t been caught! “Marie turned pale and worried, and her mother thought that the girl was sad about sweets and afraid of the mouse.

“Come on, calm down, baby,” she said, “we’ll drive away the nasty mouse!” Mousetraps won't help - then let Fritz bring his gray embassy adviser.

As soon as Marie was left alone in the living room, she went to the glass cabinet and, sobbing, spoke to the Nutcracker:

Ah, dear, kind Mr. Drosselmeyer! What can I, poor, unhappy girl, do for you? Well, I’ll give all my picture books to the nasty mouse king to be devoured, I’ll even give away the beautiful new dress that the baby Christ gave me, but he will demand more and more from me, so that in the end I will have nothing left, and he , perhaps, he will want to bite me to death instead of you. Oh, I'm a poor, poor girl! Well, what should I do, what should I do?!

While Marie was grieving and crying so much, she noticed that the Nutcracker had a large bloody stain on his neck from the previous night. Since Marie found out that the Nutcracker was actually young Drosselmeyer, the nephew of the court adviser, she stopped carrying him and rocking him, stopped caressing and kissing him, and she even felt somehow embarrassed to touch him too often, but this time she She carefully took the Nutcracker from the shelf and began to carefully wipe away the bloody stain on her neck with a handkerchief. But how dumbfounded she was when she suddenly felt that her friend the Nutcracker in her hands had warmed up and moved! She quickly put it back on the shelf. Here his lips parted, and the Nutcracker babbled with difficulty:

O priceless Mademoiselle Stahlbaum, my faithful friend, how much I owe to you! No, don’t sacrifice picture books or a festive dress for me - get me a saber... A saber! I'll take care of the rest myself, even if he...

Here the Nutcracker’s speech was interrupted, and his eyes, which had just shone with deep sadness, darkened and dimmed again. Marie was not the least bit afraid; on the contrary, she jumped for joy. Now she knew how to save the Nutcracker without making further heavy sacrifices. But where can I get a saber for the little man?

Marie decided to consult with Fritz, and in the evening, when her parents went on a visit and the two of them were sitting in the living room by the glass cabinet, she told her brother everything that had happened to her because of the Nutcracker and the Mouse King and on what the Nutcracker’s salvation now depended.

What upset Fritz most was that his hussars behaved badly during the battle, as it turned out according to Marie’s story. He asked her very seriously whether it really was so, and when Marie gave him her word of honor, Fritz quickly went to the glass cabinet, addressed the hussars with a menacing speech, and then, as punishment for selfishness and cowardice, cut off all of them. cockades from their hats and forbade them to play the Life Hussar March for a year. Having finished punishing the hussars, he turned to Marie:

I will help the Nutcracker get a saber: just yesterday I retired with a pension the old cuirassier colonel, and that means he no longer needs his beautiful, sharp saber.

The mentioned colonel lived on the pension Fritz gave him in the far corner, on the third regiment. Fritz took it out from there, untied the truly dandy silver saber and put it on the Nutcracker.

The next night, Marie could not close her eyes from anxiety and fear. At midnight she heard some strange commotion in the living room - clinking and rustling. Suddenly there was a sound: “Quick! "

Mouse King! Mouse King! - Marie shouted and jumped out of bed in horror.

Everything was quiet, but soon someone carefully knocked on the door and a thin voice was heard:

Priceless Mademoiselle Stahlbaum, open the door and don’t be afraid of anything! Good, joyful news.

Marie recognized the voice of young Drosselmeyer, threw on her skirt and quickly opened the door. The Nutcracker stood on the threshold with a bloody saber in his right hand and a lit wax candle in his left. Seeing Marie, he immediately dropped to one knee and spoke like this:

O beautiful lady! You alone breathed into me knightly courage and gave strength to my hand so that I could defeat the daring one who dared to insult you. The treacherous mouse king is defeated and bathes in his own blood! Deign to graciously accept trophies from the hands of a knight devoted to you to the grave.

With these words, the cute Nutcracker very deftly shook off the seven golden crowns of the mouse king, which he had strung on his left hand, and handed them to Marie, who accepted them with joy.

The Nutcracker stood up and continued:

Ah, my most priceless Mademoiselle Stahlbaum! What wonders could I show you now that the enemy is defeated, if you would deign to follow me even a few steps! Oh, do it, do it, dear mademoiselle!

DOLL KINGDOM

I think, children, each of you, without a moment’s hesitation, would follow the honest, kind Nutcracker, who could not have anything bad on his mind. And even more so for Marie, because she knew that she had the right to count on the greatest gratitude from the Nutcracker, and was convinced that he would keep his word and show her many wonders. That's why she said:

I’ll go with you, Mr. Drosselmeyer, but only not far and not for long, since I haven’t gotten enough sleep yet.

Then,” replied the Nutcracker, “I will choose the shortest, although not entirely convenient, road.”

He walked forward. Marie follows him. They stopped in the hallway, near an old huge wardrobe. Marie was surprised to notice that the doors, usually locked, were wide open; she could clearly see her father’s traveling fox fur coat, which hung right next to the door. The Nutcracker very deftly climbed up the ledge of the cabinet and the carvings and grabbed a large brush that was hanging on a thick cord at the back of his fur coat. He pulled his brush with all his might, and immediately a graceful cedar-wood elk came down from the sleeve of his fur coat.

Would you like to rise, dearest Mademoiselle Marie? asked the Nutcracker.

Marie did just that. And before she had time to rise through her sleeve, before she had time to look out from behind her collar, a dazzling light shone towards her, and she found herself in a beautiful fragrant meadow, which sparkled all over, as if with shining precious stones.

“We are in Candy Meadow,” said the Nutcracker. - Now let’s go through those gates.

Only now, looking up, did Marie notice a beautiful gate rising a few steps away from her in the middle of the meadow; they seemed to be made of white and brown marble, speckled with specks. When Marie came closer, she saw that it was not marble, but almonds in sugar and raisins, which is why the gate under which they passed was called, according to the Nutcracker, the Almond-Raisin Gate. The common people very discourteously called them the gates of gluttonous students. On the side gallery of this gate, apparently made of barley sugar, six monkeys in red jackets formed a wonderful military band, which played so well that Marie, without noticing it, walked further and further along the marble slabs, beautifully made of sugar. , boiled with spices.

Soon she was filled with sweet aromas that streamed from the wonderful grove that stretched on both sides. The dark foliage glittered and sparkled so brightly that gold and silver fruits hanging on multi-colored stems, and bows, and bouquets of flowers adorning the trunks and branches were clearly visible, like a cheerful bride and groom and wedding guests. With every whiff of the marshmallows, infused with the scent of oranges, there was a rustling in the branches and foliage, and the golden tinsel crunched and crackled, like jubilant music, which carried away the sparkling lights, and they danced and jumped.

Oh, how wonderful it is here! - exclaimed the delighted Marie.

“We are in the Christmas forest, dear mademoiselle,” said the Nutcracker.

Oh, how I wish I could be here! It's so wonderful here! - Marie exclaimed again.

The Nutcracker clapped his hands, and immediately tiny shepherds and shepherdesses appeared, hunters and huntresses, so tender and white that one might think they were made of pure sugar. Although they were walking through the forest, for some reason Marie had not noticed them before. They brought a wonderfully beautiful golden chair, put a white marshmallow pillow on it and very kindly invited Marie to sit down. And now the shepherds and shepherdesses performed a lovely ballet, and meanwhile the hunters blew their horns very skillfully. Then everyone disappeared into the bushes.

Sorry, dear Mademoiselle Stahlbaum, said the Nutcracker, forgive me for such pitiful dancing. But these are dancers from our puppet ballet - all they know is to repeat the same thing, and the fact that the hunters blew their trumpets so sleepily and lazily also has its own reasons. Although the bonbonnieres on the Christmas trees hang right in front of their noses, they are too high. Now would you like to welcome me further?

What are you talking about, the ballet was simply lovely and I really liked it! Marie said as she stood up and followed the Nutcracker.

They walked along a stream that ran with a gentle murmur and babble and filled the entire forest with its wonderful fragrance.

“This is Orange Creek,” the Nutcracker answered Marie’s questions, “but, except for its wonderful aroma, it cannot compare either in size or beauty with the Lemonade River, which, like it, flows into the Lake of Almond Milk.”

And in fact, soon Marie heard a louder splash and gurgle and saw a wide stream of lemonade, which rolled its proud light yellow waves among the bushes sparkling like emeralds. An unusually invigorating coolness, delighting the chest and heart, wafted from the beautiful waters. Not far away, a dark yellow river flowed slowly, spreading an unusually sweet fragrance, and beautiful children sat on the bank, fishing for small fat fish and immediately eating them. As Marie came closer, she noticed that the fish looked like Lombard nuts. A little further on the shore lies a charming village. The houses, the church, the parsonage, and the barns were dark brown with golden roofs; and many of the walls were painted so colorfully, as if almonds and candied lemon peel had been stuck on them.

This is the village of Gingerbread, said the Nutcracker, located on the banks of the Honey River. The people living there are beautiful, but very angry, since everyone there suffers from toothache. We better not go there.

At the same moment, Marie noticed a beautiful town, in which all the houses were colorful and transparent. The Nutcracker headed straight there, and then Marie heard a disorderly, cheerful hubbub and saw a thousand pretty little people who were dismantling and unloading the loaded carts crowded into the market. And what they took out resembled motley multi-colored pieces of paper and chocolate bars.

“We are in Confetenhausen,” said the Nutcracker, “just now envoys from the Paper Kingdom and the Chocolate King have arrived. Not long ago, the poor people of Confettienhausen were threatened by the army of the mosquito admiral; so they cover their houses with gifts from the Paper State and build fortifications from strong slabs sent by the chocolate king. But, priceless Mademoiselle Stahlbaum, we cannot visit all the towns and villages of the country - to the capital, to the capital!

The Nutcracker hurried on, and Marie, burning with impatience, did not lag behind him. Soon a wonderful scent of roses wafted in, and everything seemed to be illuminated with a gently shimmering pink glow. Marie noticed that it was a reflection of pink-scarlet waters, splashing and gurgling with a sweetly melodious sound at her feet. The waves kept coming and coming and finally turned into a large beautiful lake, on which wonderful silver-white swans with golden ribbons on their necks swam and sang beautiful songs, and diamond fish, as if in a merry dance, dived and tumbled in the pink waves.

“Oh,” Marie exclaimed in delight, “but this is the same lake that my godfather once promised me to make!” And I am the same girl who was supposed to play with the cute swans.

The Nutcracker smiled as mockingly as he had never smiled before, and then said:

Uncle would never make anything like this. Rather, you, dear Mademoiselle Stahlbaum... But is it worth thinking about it! It’s better to cross the Pink Lake to the other side, to the capital.

CAPITAL

The Nutcracker clapped his hands again. The pink lake began to rustle more loudly, the waves rose higher, and Marie saw in the distance two golden-scaled dolphins harnessed to a shell that shone with precious stones as bright as the sun. Twelve charming blackrabs in hats and aprons woven from rainbow hummingbird feathers jumped onto the shore and, easily gliding along the waves, carried first Marie and then the Nutcracker into the shell, which immediately rushed across the lake.

Oh, how wonderful it was to float in a shell, wafted with the scent of roses and washed by pink waves! The golden-scaled dolphins raised their muzzles and began to throw crystal streams high into the air, and when these streams fell from above in sparkling and sparkling arcs, it seemed as if two lovely, delicate silver voices were singing:

“Who swims in the lake? Fairy of waters! Mosquitoes, doo-doo-doo! Fishes, splash-splash! Swans, shine, shine! Miracle bird, tra-la-la! Waves, sing, blowing, melting, - a fairy is floating towards us through the roses; a frisky stream, soar up - towards the sun, up! "

But the twelve blackrabs who jumped into the shell from behind apparently did not like the singing of the water jets at all. They shook their umbrellas so much that the leaves of the date palms, from which they were woven, crumpled and bent, and the arapets beat some unknown rhythm with their feet and sang:

“Top-and-tip and tip-and-tap, clap-clap-clap! We dance across the waters! Birds, fish - for a walk, following the shell with a boom! Top-and-tip and tip-and-top, clap-clap-clap! "

The Arabs are very cheerful people,” said the somewhat embarrassed Nutcracker, “but I hope they don’t stir up the whole lake for me!”

Indeed, soon a loud rumble was heard: amazing voices seemed to float over the lake. But Marie did not pay attention to them - she looked into the fragrant waves, from where lovely girlish faces smiled at her.

“Oh,” she cried joyfully, clapping her hands, “look, dear Mr. Drosselmeyer: Princess Pirlipat is there!” She smiles at me so tenderly... Look, dear Mr. Drosselmeyer!

But the Nutcracker sighed sadly and said:

O priceless Mademoiselle Stahlbaum, it is not Princess Pirlipat, it is you. Only you, only your own charming face smiles tenderly from every wave.

Then Marie quickly turned away, closed her eyes tightly and became completely embarrassed. At the same moment, twelve blackrabs picked her up and carried her from the shell to the shore. She found herself in a small forest, which was, perhaps, even more beautiful than the Christmas forest, everything here shone and sparkled; Particularly remarkable were the rare fruits hanging on the trees, rare not only in color, but also in their wonderful fragrance.

“We are in the Candied Grove,” said the Nutcracker, “and over there is the capital.”

Oh, what Marie saw! How can I describe to you, children, the beauty and splendor of the city that appeared before Marie’s eyes, which spreads widely across a luxurious meadow strewn with flowers? It shone not only with the rainbow colors of the walls and towers, but also with the bizarre shape of the buildings, completely different from ordinary houses. Instead of roofs, they were covered with skillfully woven wreaths, and the towers were entwined with such lovely colorful garlands that it is impossible to imagine.

When Marie and the Nutcracker passed through the gate, which seemed to be made of macaroons and candied fruits, silver soldiers stood guard, and a little man in a brocade dressing gown hugged the Nutcracker and said:

Welcome, dear prince! Welcome to Confetenburg!

Marie was very surprised that such a noble nobleman called Mr. Drosselmeyer a prince. But then they heard the hubbub of thin voices, noisily interrupting each other, the sounds of rejoicing and laughter, singing and music reached them, and Marie, having forgotten about everything, immediately asked the Nutcracker what it was.

“Oh, dear Mademoiselle Stahlbaum,” answered the Nutcracker, “there is nothing to marvel at here: Confetenburg is a crowded, cheerful city, there is fun and noise here every day. Please, let's move on.

After a few steps they found themselves in a large, amazingly beautiful market square. All houses were decorated with openwork sugar galleries. In the middle, like an obelisk, stood a glazed sweet cake, sprinkled with sugar, and around it, jets of lemonade, orchad and other delicious soft drinks flowed upward from four skillfully made fountains. The pool was full of whipped cream that you just wanted to scoop up with a spoon. But most charming of all were the charming little people who crowded here in large numbers. They had fun, laughed, joked and sang; Marie heard their cheerful hubbub from afar.

There were smartly dressed gentlemen and ladies, Armenians and Greeks, Jews and Tyroleans, officers and soldiers, monks, shepherds, and clowns - in a word, every kind of people you can meet in this world. In one place on the corner a terrible uproar arose: the people rushed in all directions, because just at that time the Great Mogul was being carried in a palanquin, accompanied by ninety-three nobles and seven hundred slaves. But it had to happen that on another corner a guild of fishermen, numbering five hundred people, staged a solemn procession, and, unfortunately, the Turkish Sultan just decided to ride, accompanied by three thousand Janissaries, through the bazaar; Moreover, it was approaching the sweet pie directly with ringing music and singing: “Glory to the mighty sun, glory! " - the procession of the "interrupted solemn sacrifice." Well, there was confusion, jostling and screaming! Soon groans were heard, because in the confusion some fisherman knocked off the head of a Brahmin, and the Great Mogul was almost run over by a clown. The noise became more and more furious, a jostling and a fight had already begun, but then a man in a brocade dressing gown, the same one who at the gate welcomed the Nutcracker as a prince, climbed onto the cake and, tugging the ringing bell three times, shouted three times loudly: “Confectioner! Confectioner! Confectioner! “The commotion subsided instantly; everyone saved himself as best he could, and after the tangled processions had been untangled, when the soiled Great Mogul had been cleaned and the Brahmin’s head had been put back on, the interrupted noisy fun began again.

What's the matter with the pastry chef, dear Mr. Drosselmeyer? Marie asked.

“Ah, priceless Mademoiselle Stahlbaum, the confectioner here refers to an unknown, but very terrible force, which, according to local belief, can do whatever it wants to a person,” answered the Nutcracker, “this is the fate that rules over these cheerful people, and the inhabitants They are so afraid of him that just the mention of his name can calm down the biggest commotion, as Mr. Burgomaster has just proven. Then no one thinks about earthly things, about blows and bumps on the forehead, everyone plunges into himself and says: “What is a person and what can he turn into?”

A loud cry of surprise - no, a cry of delight escaped Marie when she suddenly found herself in front of a castle with a hundred aerial towers, glowing with a pink-scarlet glow. Here and there on the walls were scattered luxurious bouquets of violets, daffodils, tulips, and left-handed flowers, which set off the dazzling whiteness of the background, shimmering with scarlet light. The large dome of the central building and the pointed roofs of the towers were studded with thousands of stars sparkling with gold and silver.

“Here we are in the Marzipan Castle,” said the Nutcracker.

Marie did not take her eyes off the magical palace, but she still noticed that one large tower was missing a roof, the restoration of which, apparently, was being done by the little men standing on the cinnamon platform. Before she had time to ask the Nutcracker a question, he said:

More recently, the castle was threatened with great trouble, and perhaps complete ruin. The giant Sweet Tooth passed by. He quickly bit off the roof of that tower over there and set to work on the large dome, but the residents of Confetenburg appeased him by offering a quarter of the city and a significant part of the Candied Grove as ransom. He ate them and moved on.

Suddenly very pleasant, gentle music began to sound quietly. The castle gates swung open, and twelve little pages came out with lighted torches made from clove stems in their hands. Their heads were made of pearls, their bodies were made of rubies and emeralds, and they walked on skillfully crafted golden legs. They were followed by four ladies almost the same height as Clerchen, in unusually luxurious and brilliant outfits; Marie instantly recognized them as natural-born princesses. They hugged the Nutcracker tenderly and exclaimed with sincere joy:

O prince, dear prince! Dear brother!

The Nutcracker was completely moved: he wiped away the tears that often came to his eyes, then he took Marie by the hand and solemnly announced:

Here is Mademoiselle Marie Stahlbaum, daughter of a very worthy medical adviser and my savior. If she hadn’t thrown the shoe at the right moment, if she hadn’t gotten me the retired colonel’s saber, I would have been chewed up by the nasty mouse king, and I would have already been lying in the grave. O Mademoiselle Stahlbaum! Can Pirlipat compare with her in beauty, dignity and virtue, despite the fact that she is a born princess? No, I say, no!

All the ladies exclaimed: “No! “- and, sobbing, they began to hug Marie.

O noble savior of our beloved royal brother! O incomparable Mademoiselle Stahlbaum!

Then the ladies took Marie and the Nutcracker to the chambers of the castle, to a hall whose walls were entirely made of crystal shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow. But what Marie liked most were the pretty little chairs, chests of drawers, and secretaries placed there, made of cedar and Brazilian wood with inlaid gold flowers.

The princesses persuaded Marie and the Nutcracker to sit down and said that they would immediately prepare a treat for them with their own hands. They immediately took out various pots and bowls made of the finest Japanese porcelain, spoons, knives, forks, graters, saucepans and other gold and silver kitchen utensils. Then they brought such wonderful fruits and sweets, which Marie had never seen, and very gracefully began to squeeze fruit juice with their lovely snow-white hands, crush spices, grate sweet almonds - in a word, they began to host so nicely that Marie realized what experts they were in the culinary business and what a luxurious treat awaits her. Knowing full well that she also understood something about this, Marie secretly wanted to take part in the princesses’ lesson herself. The most beautiful of the Nutcracker's sisters, as if guessing Marie's secret desire, handed her a small golden mortar and said:

My dear friend, my brother’s priceless savior, the ceilings are a little like caramels.

While Marie merrily knocked with the pestle, so that the mortar rang melodiously and pleasantly, no worse than a charming song, the Nutcracker began to talk in detail about the terrible battle with the hordes of the mouse king, about how he was defeated due to the cowardice of his troops, how then the nasty mouse king wanted to kill him at all costs, just as Marie had to sacrifice many of his subjects who were in her service...

During Marie’s story, it seemed as if the words of the Nutcracker and even her own blows with the pestle were sounding more and more muffled, more and more indistinct, and soon a silver veil covered her eyes - as if light clouds of fog had risen, into which the princesses... the pages... The Nutcracker... herself... had immersed themselves... then something rustled, gurgled and sang; strange sounds dissolved in the distance. The rising waves carried Marie higher and higher... higher and higher... higher and higher...

CONCLUSION

Ta-ra-ra-boom! - and Marie fell from an incredible height. What a push! But Marie immediately opened her eyes. She was lying in her bed. It was quite light, and my mother stood nearby and said:

Well, is it possible to sleep for so long! Breakfast has been on the table for a long time.

My dear listeners, you, of course, already understood that Marie, stunned by all the miracles she had seen, eventually fell asleep in the hall of the Marzipan Castle and that the arapets or pages, and perhaps the princesses themselves, carried her home and put her to bed.

Oh, mommy, my dear mommy, where did I go that night with young Mr. Drosselmeyer! I have seen so many miracles!

And she told everything in almost the same detail as I had just told, and my mother listened and was surprised.

When Marie finished, her mother said:

You, dear Marie, had a long, beautiful dream. But put it all out of your head.

Marie stubbornly insisted that she saw everything not in a dream, but in reality. Then her mother led her to a glass cabinet, took out the Nutcracker, which, as always, stood on the second shelf, and said:

Oh, you silly thing, where did you get the idea that a wooden Nuremberg doll could talk and move?

But, mommy,” Marie interrupted her, “I know that little Nutcracker is young Mr. Drosselmeyer from Nuremberg, his godfather’s nephew!”

Here both dad and mom laughed loudly.

Oh, now you, daddy, are laughing at my Nutcracker,” Marie continued, almost crying, “and he spoke so well of you!” When we arrived at the Marzipan Castle, he introduced me to the princesses - his sisters - and said that you are a very worthy medical adviser!

The laughter only intensified, and now Louise and even Fritz joined the parents. Then Marie ran to the Other Room, quickly took out the seven crowns of the mouse king from her box and gave them to her mother with the words:

Here, mommy, look: here are the seven crowns of the mouse king, which young Mr. Drosselmeyer presented to me last night as a sign of his victory!

Mom looked in surprise at the tiny crowns made of some unfamiliar, very shiny metal and such fine workmanship that it could hardly have been the work of human hands. Mr. Stahlbaum also couldn’t get enough of the crowns. Then both father and mother strictly demanded that Marie confess where she got the crowns, but she stood her ground.

When her father began to scold her and even called her a liar, she burst into tears and began to say plaintively:

Oh, poor, poor me! So what should I do?

But then the door suddenly opened and the godfather entered.

What's happened? What's happened? - he asked. - Is my goddaughter Marichen crying and sobbing? What's happened? What's happened?

Dad told him what happened and showed him the tiny crowns. The senior court adviser, as soon as he saw them, laughed and exclaimed:

Stupid inventions, stupid inventions! But these are the crowns that I once wore on a watch chain, and then gave to Marichen on her birthday, when she was two years old! Have you forgotten?

Neither father nor mother could remember this.

When Marie was convinced that her parents’ faces had again become affectionate, she jumped up to her godfather and exclaimed:

Godfather, you know everything! Say that my Nutcracker is your nephew, young Mr. Drosselmeyer from Nuremberg, and that he gave me these tiny crowns.

The godfather frowned and muttered:

Stupid ideas!

Then the father took little Marie aside and said very sternly:

Listen, Marie, stop making up stories and stupid jokes once and for all! And if you say again that the freak Nutcracker is your godfather’s nephew, I will throw out the window not only the Nutcracker, but also all the other dolls, not excluding Mamselle Clerchen.

Now poor Marie, of course, did not dare to even mention what was filling her heart; After all, you understand that it was not so easy for Marie to forget all the wonderful miracles that happened to her. Even, dear reader or listener, Fritz, even your comrade Fritz Stahlbaum immediately turned his back on his sister as soon as she was about to talk about the wonderful country where she felt so good. They say that sometimes he even muttered through his teeth: “Stupid girl! “But, having known his good character for a long time, I just can’t believe it; in any case, it is known for certain that, no longer believing a word in Marie’s stories, at a public parade he formally apologized to his hussars for the offense caused, pinned on them even taller and more magnificent plumes of goose feathers instead of the lost insignia, and again allowed the lifeblood to sound -hussar march. Well, we know what the courage of the hussars was when disgusting bullets put spots on their red uniforms.

Marie no longer dared to talk about her adventure, but magical images the fairyland did not leave her. She heard a gentle rustling, gentle, enchanting sounds; she saw everything again as soon as she began to think about it, and, instead of playing, as she used to do, she could sit quietly and calmly for hours, withdrawing into herself - that’s why everyone now called her a little dreamer.

Once it happened that the godfather was repairing a watch at the Stahlbaums. Marie sat near the glass cabinet and, daydreaming, looked at the Nutcracker. And suddenly she burst out:

Ah, dear Mr. Drosselmeyer, if you really lived, I would not reject you, like Princess Pirlipat, because because of me you have lost your beauty!

The court advisor immediately shouted:

Well, well, stupid inventions!

But at the same moment there was such a roar and crash that Marie fell unconscious from her chair. When she woke up, her mother was fussing around her and saying:

Well, is it possible to fall out of a chair? Such a big girl! The nephew of Mr. Senior Court Counsel has just arrived from Nuremberg, be smart.

She raised her eyes: the godfather had put on his glass wig again, put on a yellow frock coat and was smiling contentedly, and he was holding by the hand, however, a small but very well-built young man, white and ruddy as blood and milk, in a magnificent red caftan embroidered with gold, in shoes and white silk stockings. A very pretty bouquet was pinned to his frill, his hair was carefully curled and powdered, and a beautiful braid ran down his back. The tiny sword at his side sparkled, as if studded with precious stones, and he held a silk hat under his arm.

The young man showed his pleasant disposition and good manners by giving Marie a whole bunch of wonderful toys and, above all, delicious marzipan and dolls to replace those that the mouse king had chewed, and Fritz a wonderful saber. At the table, an amiable young man was cracking nuts for the whole company. The toughest ones were of no use to him; With his right hand he put them in his mouth, with his left he pulled his braid, and - click! - the shell shattered into small pieces.

Marie blushed all over when she saw the polite young man, and when after dinner young Drosselmeyer invited her to go into the living room, to the glass cabinet, she turned crimson.

Go, go, play, children, just make sure you don’t quarrel. Now that I have all my watches in order, I don't mind! the senior court adviser admonished them.

As soon as young Drosselmeyer found himself alone with Marie, he dropped to one knee and made the following speech:

O priceless Mademoiselle Stahlbaum, look: at your feet is the happy Drosselmeyer, whose life you saved in this very place. You deigned to say that you would not have rejected me, like the ugly princess Pirlipat, if because of you I had become a freak. Immediately I ceased to be a pitiful Nutcracker and regained my former, not devoid of pleasant, appearance. O excellent Mademoiselle Stahlbaum, make me happy with your worthy hand! Share the crown and throne with me, we will reign together in the Marzipan Castle.

Marie raised the young man from her knees and said quietly:

Dear Mr. Drosselmeyer! You are a meek, kind-hearted person, and besides, you reign in a beautiful country inhabited by lovely, cheerful people - how can I not agree that you be my groom!

And Marie immediately became Drosselmeyer’s bride. They say that a year later he took her away in a golden carriage drawn by silver horses, that at their wedding twenty-two thousand elegant dolls sparkling with diamonds and pearls danced, and Marie, as they say, is still the queen in a country where, if only you have eyes, you will see sparkling candied fruit groves, transparent marzipan castles everywhere - in a word, all sorts of miracles and wonders.

Here's a fairy tale about the Nutcracker and the Mouse King.

// January 22, 2014 // Views: 7,112

Option 1

Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann is an outstanding German writer, composer and artist, representative of romanticism. Born on January 24, 1776 in Konigsberg in the family of a Prussian lawyer. When he was only three, his parents divorced and he spent most of his childhood in his grandmother's house. His maternal uncle, a lawyer, was mainly involved in raising the boy. He was the smartest man with a rich imagination. Hoffmann early began to show an inclination towards music and drawing, but chose a career as a lawyer. Throughout his subsequent life, he combined jurisprudence with the arts.

In 1800, he brilliantly graduated from the University of Königsberg and entered the public service. All attempts to make money through art led to impoverishment. The writer's financial situation improved only after receiving a small inheritance in 1813. For some time he worked as a theater conductor in Bamberg, and then as an orchestra conductor in Leipzig and Dresden. In 1816 he returned to public service, becoming a judicial officer in Berlin. He remained in this post until his death.

He considered his work to be hateful, so in his free time he began to engage in literary activities. In the evenings, he locked himself in a wine cellar and wrote horror stories that came to mind, which later turned into fantastic stories and fairy tales. The collection of stories “Fantasies in the Manner of Callot” (1814-1815) was especially popular. After this book, he begins to be invited to various literary salons. Then “Night Stories” (1817), “Serapion’s Brothers” (1819-1820) came out. In 1821, Hoffmann began working on “The Everyday Views of Murr the Cat.” This is partly autobiographical work, full of wisdom and wit.

One of the writer’s most famous works was the fairy tale “The Golden Pot”. From musical compositions The opera Ondine was especially popular. Initially, German critics were unable to properly appreciate Hoffmann's talent, while in other countries his works enjoyed great success. However, over time, he gained a reputation as a talented musician and literary critic. Subsequently, his work influenced the work of Edgar Allan Poe and several French writers. Hoffmann's life and works formed the basis of J. Offenbach's opera "The Tales of Hoffmann." The writer died on June 24, 1822 as a result of paralysis.

Option 2

German writer and composer Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann was born in Königsberg on January 24, 1776. Soon the boy’s parents divorced, and his uncle took up raising the child, under whose influence the young Hoffman entered the Faculty of Law at the University of Konigsberg.

While studying at this institution, Hoffmann's first novels were written. After graduating from university, the writer worked in Poznan as an assessor, but then was transferred to Polotsk, where he married and settled down.

Soon Hoffmann left the civil service, hoping to devote himself to art. In 1803, the writer’s first essay, “A Letter from a Monk to his Capital Friend,” was published, and later several operas were written, which Hoffmann tried to stage on stage to no avail.

At this time, Hoffmann worked as a composer and conductor in Dresden. This money was barely enough for the young family to make ends meet.

Having lost his position as bandmaster, in 1815 Hoffmann was forced to return to civil service, but in Berlin. This occupation brought income, but made the writer dissatisfied with life. The only salvation for him was wine and creativity.

In 1815, Hoffmann completed the story “The Golden Pot” and wrote the opera “Ondine”. At the same time, two volumes of the writer’s first published book, “Fantasies in the Manner of Callot,” were published. Since then, Hoffmann has become a popular writer, and his Ondine is staged at the National Theater.

Having become seriously ill, Hoffmann soon died in Berlin from paralysis on June 24, 1822. Before his death, he manages to dictate his last works: “Lord of the Fleas”, “Corner Window” and “Enemy”.

To the 240th anniversary of his birth

Standing at Hoffmann’s grave in the Jerusalem Cemetery in the center of Berlin, I marveled at the fact that on the modest monument he is presented first of all as an appellate court adviser, a lawyer, and only then as a poet, musician and artist. However, he himself admitted: “On weekdays I am a lawyer and perhaps a little musician, on Sunday afternoons I draw, and in the evenings until late at night I am a very witty writer.” All his life he has been a great collaborator.

The third name on the monument was the baptismal name Wilhelm. Meanwhile, he himself replaced it with the name of the idolized Mozart - Amadeus. It was replaced for a reason. After all, he divided humanity into two unequal parts: “One consists only of good people, but bad musicians or not musicians at all, the other – of true musicians.” This does not need to be taken literally: the absence musical ear- not the main sin. “Good people,” philistines, devote themselves to the interests of the purse, which leads to irreversible perversions of humanity. According to Thomas Mann, they cast a wide shadow. People become philistines, they are born musicians. The part to which Hoffmann belonged were people of the spirit, not the belly - musicians, poets, artists. “Good people” most often do not understand them, despise them, and laugh at them. Hoffmann realizes that his heroes have nowhere to run; living among the philistines is their cross. And he himself carried it to the grave. But his life was short by today’s standards (1776-1822)

Biography pages

Blows of fate accompanied Hoffmann from birth to death. He was born in Königsberg, where the “narrow-faced” Kant was a professor at that time. His parents quickly separated, and from the age of 4 until university, he lived in the house of his uncle, a successful lawyer, but a swaggering and pedantic man. An orphan with living parents! The boy grew up withdrawn, which was facilitated by his short stature and the appearance of a freak. Despite his outward laxity and buffoonery, his nature was extremely vulnerable. An exalted psyche will determine much in his work. Nature endowed him with a keen mind and powers of observation. The soul of a child, a teenager, vainly thirsting for love and affection, did not harden, but, wounded, suffered. The confession is indicative: “My youth is like a parched desert, without flowers and shadow.”

He considered university studies in jurisprudence as an annoying duty, because he truly loved only music. Official service in Glogau, Berlin, Poznan and especially in provincial Plock was burdensome. But still, in Poznan, happiness smiled: he got married to a charming Polish woman, Michalina. The bear, although alien to his creative quests and spiritual needs, will become his faithful friend and support to the end. He will fall in love more than once, but always without reciprocity. He captures the torment of unrequited love in many works.

At 28, Hoffmann is a government official in Prussian-occupied Warsaw. Here, the composer's abilities, the gift of singing, and the talent of the conductor were revealed. Two of his singspiels were successfully delivered. “The muses still guide me through life as patron saints and protectors; I devote myself entirely to them,” he writes to a friend. But he doesn’t neglect service either.

Napoleon's invasion of Prussia, the chaos and confusion of the war years put an end to the short-lived prosperity. A wandering, financially unsettled, sometimes hungry life began: Bamberg, Leipzig, Dresden... A two-year-old daughter died, his wife became seriously ill, and he himself fell ill with nervous fever. He took on any job: a home teacher of music and singing, a music dealer, a bandmaster, a decorative artist, a theater director, a reviewer for the General Musical Newspaper... And in the eyes of ordinary philistines, this small, homely, poor and powerless man is a beggar at the door burgher salons, the clown of a pea. Meanwhile, in Bamberg he showed himself as a man of the theater, anticipating the principles of both Stanislavsky and Meyerhold. Here he emerged as the universal artist that romantics dreamed of.

Hoffmann in Berlin

In the autumn of 1814, Hoffmann, with the help of a friend, obtained a seat in the criminal court in Berlin. For the first time in many years of wandering, he had hope of finding a permanent refuge. In Berlin he found himself in the center literary life. Here, acquaintances began with Ludwig Tieck, Adalbert von Chamisso, Clemens Brentano, Friedrich Fouquet de la Motte, author of the story “Ondine,” and artist Philip Veith (son of Dorothea Mendelssohn). Once a week, friends who named their community after the hermit Serapion gathered in a coffee shop on Unter den Linden (Serapionsabende). We stayed up late. Hoffmann read his newest works to them, they evoked a lively reaction, and they didn’t want to leave. Interests overlapped. Hoffmann began writing music for Fouquet's story, he agreed to become a librettist, and in August 1816 the romantic opera Ondine was staged at the Royal Berlin Theater. There were 14 performances, but a year later the theater burned down. The fire destroyed the wonderful decorations, which, based on Hoffmann’s sketches, were made by Karl Schinkel himself, the famous artist and court architect, who at the beginning of the 19th century. built almost half of Berlin. And since I studied at the Moscow Pedagogical Institute with Tamara Schinkel, a direct descendant of the great master, I also feel involved in Hoffmann’s Ondine.

Over time, music lessons faded into the background. Hoffmann, as it were, passed on his musical vocation to his beloved hero, his alter ego, Johann Kreisler, who carries with him a high musical theme from work to work. Hoffmann was an enthusiast of music, calling it “the proto-language of nature.”

Being a highly Homo Ludens (playing man), Hoffmann, in Shakespearean style, perceived the whole world as a theater. His close friend was the famous actor Ludwig Devrient, whom he met in the tavern of Lutter and Wegner, where they spent stormy evenings, indulging in both libations and inspired humorous improvisations. Both were sure that they had doubles and amazed the regulars with the art of transformation. These gatherings cemented his reputation as a half-crazed alcoholic. Alas, in the end he actually became a drunkard and behaved eccentrically and manneredly, but the further he went, the clearer it became that in June 1822 in Berlin, the greatest magician and sorcerer of German literature died from tabes spinal cord in agony and lack of money.

Hoffmann's literary legacy

Hoffmann himself saw his calling in music, but gained fame through writing. It all started with “Fantasies in the Manner of Callot” (1814-15), then followed by “Night Stories” (1817), a four-volume set of short stories “The Serapion Brothers” (1819-20), and a kind of romantic “Decameron”. Hoffmann wrote a number of great stories and two novels - the so-called “black” or Gothic novel “Elixirs of Satan” (1815-16) about the monk Medard, in whom sit two creatures, one of them is an evil genius, and the unfinished “Worldly Views of a Cat” Murra" (1820-22). In addition, fairy tales were composed. The most famous Christmas one is “The Nutcracker and the Mouse King”. As the New Year approaches, the ballet “The Nutcracker” is shown in theaters and on television. Everyone knows Tchaikovsky's music, but only a few know that the ballet was written based on Hoffmann's fairy tale.

About the collection “Fantasies in the manner of Callot”

The 17th-century French artist Jacques Callot is known for his grotesque drawings and etchings, in which reality appears in a fantastic guise. Ugly figures on his graphic sheets depicting carnival scenes or theatrical performances, frightened and attracted. Callot's style impressed Hoffmann and provided a certain artistic stimulus.

The central work of the collection was the short story “The Golden Pot,” whose subtitle is “A Tale from New Times.” Fabulous events happen in the modern writer's Dresden, where next to the everyday world there is a hidden world of sorcerers, wizards and evil witches. However, as it turns out, they lead a double existence, some of them perfectly combine magic and sorcery with service in archives and public places. Such is the grumpy archivist Lindhorst - the lord of the Salamanders, such is the evil old sorceress Rauer, trading at the city gates, the daughter of turnips and a dragon's feather. It was her basket of apples that the main character, student Anselm, accidentally knocked over, and all his misadventures began from this little thing.

Each chapter of the tale is called by the author “vigilia”, which in Latin means night watch. Night motifs are generally characteristic of romantics, but here twilight lighting enhances the mystery. Student Anselm is a bungler, from the breed of those who, if a sandwich falls, it is certainly face down, but he also believes in miracles. He is the bearer of poetic feeling. At the same time, he hopes to take his rightful place in society, to become a gofrat (court councilor), especially since the daughter of Conrector Paulman, Veronica, whom he is caring for, has firmly decided in life: she will become the wife of a gofrat and will show off in the window in an elegant toilet in the morning to the surprise of passing dandies. But by chance, Anselm touched the world of the wonderful: suddenly, in the foliage of a tree, he saw three amazing golden-green snakes with sapphire eyes, he saw them and disappeared. “He felt how something unknown was stirring in the depths of his being and causing him that blissful and languid sorrow that promises a person another, higher existence.”

Hoffmann takes his hero through many tests before he ends up in the magical Atlantis, where he unites with the daughter of the powerful ruler of the Salamanders (aka archivist Lindhorst), the blue-eyed snake Serpentina. In the finale, everyone takes on a particular appearance. The matter ends with a double wedding, for Veronica finds her gofrat - this is Anselm's former rival Geerbrand.

Yu. K Olesha, in notes about Hoffmann, which arose while reading “The Golden Pot,” asks the question: “Who was he, this crazy man, the only writer of his kind in world literature, with raised eyebrows, a thin nose bent down, with hair , standing on end forever?” Perhaps acquaintance with his work will answer this question. I would dare to call him the last romantic and the founder of fantastic realism.

“Sandman” from the collection “Night Stories”

The name of the collection “Night Stories” is not accidental. By and large, all of Hoffmann’s works can be called “night”, for he is a poet of dark spheres in which a person is still connected with secret forces, a poet of abysses, failures, from which a double, a ghost, or a vampire arises. He makes it clear to the reader that he has visited the kingdom of shadows, even when he puts his fantasies in a daring and cheerful form.

The Sandman, which he remade several times, is an undoubted masterpiece. In this story, the struggle between despair and hope, between darkness and light takes on particular tension. Hoffman is confident that the human personality is not something permanent, but fragile, capable of transformation and bifurcation. This is the main character of the story, student Nathanael, endowed with a poetic gift.

As a child, he was frightened by the sandman: if you don’t fall asleep, the sandman will come, throw sand in your eyes, and then take your eyes away. As an adult, Nathaniel cannot get rid of fear. It seems to him that the puppet master Coppelius is a sandman, and the traveling salesman Coppola, who sells glasses and magnifying glasses, is the same Coppelius, i.e. the same sandman. Nathaniel is clearly on the verge of mental illness. In vain is Nathaniel's fiancée Clara, a simple and sensible girl, trying to heal him. She correctly says that the terrible and terrible thing that Nathanael constantly talks about happened in his soul, and outside world had little to do with it. His poems with their gloomy mysticism are boring to her. The romantically exalted Nathanael does not listen to her; he is ready to see her as a wretched bourgeois. It is not surprising that the young man falls in love with a mechanical doll, which Professor Spalanzani, with the help of Coppelius, made for 20 years and, passing it off as his daughter Ottilia, introduced it into high society provincial town. Nathaniel did not understand that the object of his sighs was an ingenious mechanism. But absolutely everyone was deceived. The clockwork doll attended social gatherings, sang and danced as if alive, and everyone admired her beauty and education, although other than “oh!” and “ah!” she didn't say anything. And in her Nathanael saw a “kindred soul.” What is this if not a mockery of the youthful quixoticism of the romantic hero?

Nathaniel goes to propose to Ottilie and finds a terrible scene: the quarreling professor and the puppet master are tearing Ottilie's doll into pieces before his eyes. The young man goes crazy and, having climbed the bell tower, rushes down from there.

Apparently, reality itself seemed to Hoffmann to be delirium, a nightmare. Wanting to say that people are soulless, he turns his heroes into automata, but the worst thing is that no one notices this. The incident with Ottilie and Nathaniel excited the townspeople. What should I do? How can you tell if your neighbor is a mannequin? How can you finally prove that you yourself are not a puppet? Everyone tried to behave as unusually as possible in order to avoid suspicion. The whole story took on the character of a nightmarish phantasmagoria.

“Little Tsakhes, nicknamed Zinnober” (1819) – one of Hoffmann's most grotesque works. This tale partly has something in common with “The Golden Pot”. Its plot is quite simple. Thanks to three wonderful golden hairs, the freak Tsakhes, the son of an unfortunate peasant woman, turns out to be wiser, more beautiful, and more worthy than everyone else in the eyes of those around him. He becomes the first minister with lightning speed, receives the hand of the beautiful Candida, until the wizard exposes the vile monster.

“A crazy fairy tale,” “the most humorous of all those I have written,” this is what the author said about it. This is his style - to clothe the most serious things in a veil of humor. We are talking about a blinded, stupid society that takes “an icicle, a rag for important person"and making an idol out of it. By the way, this was also the case in Gogol’s “The Inspector General”. Hoffmann creates a magnificent satire on the “enlightened despotism” of Prince Paphnutius. “This is not only a purely romantic parable about the eternal philistine hostility of poetry (“Drive out all fairies!” - this is the first order of the authorities. - G.I.), but also the satirical quintessence of German squalor with its claims to great power and ineradicable small-scale habits, with its police education, with servility and depression of the subjects” (A. Karelsky).

In a dwarf state where “enlightenment has broken out,” the prince’s valet outlines its program. He proposes to “cut down forests, make the river navigable, grow potatoes, improve rural schools, plant acacias and poplars, teach young people to sing morning and evening prayers in two voices, build highways and inoculate smallpox.” Some of these "enlightenment actions" actually took place in the Prussia of Frederick II, who played the role of an enlightened monarch. Education here took place under the motto: “Drive out all dissenters!”

Among the dissidents is student Balthazar. He is from the breed of true musicians, and therefore suffers among philistines, i.e. "good people". “In the wonderful voices of the forest, Balthazar heard the inconsolable complaint of nature, and it seemed that he himself should dissolve in this complaint, and his entire existence was a feeling of deepest insurmountable pain.”

According to the laws of the genre, the fairy tale ends with a happy ending. With the help of theatrical effects like fireworks, Hoffmann allows the student Balthasar, “gifted with inner music,” who is in love with Candida, to defeat Tsakhes. The savior-magician, who taught Balthazar to snatch three golden hairs from Tsakhes, after which the scales fell from everyone’s eyes, gives the newlyweds a wedding gift. This is a house with a plot where excellent cabbage grows, “the pots never boil over” in the kitchen, the china doesn’t break in the dining room, the carpets don’t get dirty in the living room, in other words, a completely bourgeois comfort reigns here. This is how romantic irony comes into play. We also met her in the fairy tale “The Golden Pot,” where lovers received a golden pot at the end of the curtain. This iconic vessel-symbol has replaced blue flower Novalis, in the light of this comparison, the mercilessness of Hoffmann’s irony became even more obvious.

About “Everyday views of Murr the cat”

The book was conceived as a summary; it intertwined all the themes and features of Hoffmann’s manner. Here tragedy is combined with the grotesque, although they are the opposite of each other. The composition itself contributed to this: the biographical notes of the learned cat are interspersed with pages from the diary genius composer Johann Kreisler, which Murr used instead of blotters. So the unlucky publisher printed the manuscript, marking the “inclusions” of the brilliant Kreisler as “Mac. l." (waste paper sheets). Who needs the suffering and sorrow of Hoffmann's favorite, his alter ego? What are they good for? Unless to dry out the graphomaniac exercises of the learned cat!

Johann Kreisler, the child of poor and ignorant parents, who experienced poverty and all the vicissitudes of fate, is a traveling musician-enthusiast. This is Hoffmann's favorite; it appears in many of his works. Everything that has weight in society is alien to the enthusiast, so misunderstanding and tragic loneliness await him. In music and love, Kreisler is carried away far, far into bright worlds known to him alone. But all the more insane for him is the return from this height to the ground, to the bustle and dirt of a small town, to the circle of base interests and petty passions. An unbalanced nature, constantly torn by doubts about people, about the world, about her own creativity. From enthusiastic ecstasy he easily moves to irritability or complete misanthropy over the most insignificant occasion. A false chord causes him to have an attack of despair. “The Chrysler is ridiculous, almost ridiculous, constantly shocking respectability. This lack of contact with the world reflects a complete rejection of the surrounding life, its stupidity, ignorance, thoughtlessness and vulgarity... Kreisler rebels alone against the whole world, and he is doomed. His rebellious spirit dies in mental illness” (I. Garin).

But it’s not he, but the learned cat Murr who claims to be the romantic “son of the century.” And the novel is written in his name. Before us is not just a two-tiered book: “Kreisleriana” and the animal epic “Murriana”. New here is the Murrah line. Murr is not just a philistine. He tries to appear as an enthusiast, a dreamer. Romantic genius in the form of a cat - funny idea. Listen to his romantic tirades: “... I know for sure: my homeland is an attic! The climate of the motherland, its morals, customs - how inextinguishable these impressions are... Where do I get such a sublime way of thinking, such an irresistible desire for higher spheres? Where does such a rare gift of soaring upward in an instant come from, such envy-worthy, courageous, most brilliant leaps? Oh, sweet languor fills my chest! The longing for my home attic rises in me in a powerful wave! I dedicate these tears to you, O beautiful homeland...” What is this if not a murderous parody of the romantic empyreanism of the Jena romantics, but even more so of the Germanophilism of the Heidelbergers?!

The writer created a grandiose parody of the romantic worldview itself, recording the symptoms of the crisis of romanticism. It is the interweaving, the unity of two lines, the collision of parody with the high romantic style that gives birth to something new, unique.

“What truly mature humor, what strength of reality, what anger, what types and portraits and what a thirst for beauty, what a bright ideal!” Dostoevsky assessed Murr the Cat this way, but this is a worthy assessment of Hoffmann’s work as a whole.

Hoffmann's dual worlds: the riot of fantasy and the “vanity of life”

Every true artist embodies his time and the situation of a person in this time in the artistic language of the era. The artistic language of Hoffmann's time was romanticism. The gap between dream and reality is the basis of the romantic worldview. “The darkness of low truths is dearer to me / The deception that elevates us” - these words of Pushkin can be used as an epigraph to the work of the German romantics. But if their predecessors, erecting their castles in the air, were carried away from the earthly into the idealized Middle Ages or into the romanticized Hellas, then Hoffmann bravely plunged into modern reality Germany. At the same time, like no one before him, he was able to express the anxiety, instability, and brokenness of the era and the man himself. According to Hoffmann, not only is society divided into parts, each person and his consciousness is divided, torn. The personality loses its definiteness and integrity, hence the motif of duality and madness, so characteristic of Hoffmann. The world is unstable and the human personality is disintegrating. The struggle between despair and hope, between darkness and light is waged in almost all of his works. Not giving dark forces a place in your soul is what worries the writer.

Upon careful reading, even in the most fantastic works of Hoffmann, such as “The Golden Pot”, “The Sandman”, one can find very deep observations about real life. He himself admitted: “I have too strong a sense of reality.” Expressing not so much the harmony of the world as the dissonance of life, Hoffmann conveyed it with the help of romantic irony and grotesquery. His works are full of all sorts of spirits and ghosts, incredible things happen: a cat composes poetry, a minister drowns in a chamber pot, a Dresden archivist has a brother who is a dragon, and his daughters are snakes, etc., etc., nevertheless, he wrote about modernity, about the consequences of the revolution, about the era of Napoleonic unrest, which upended much in the sleepy way of life of the three hundred German principalities.

He noticed that things began to dominate man, life was being mechanized, automata, soulless dolls were taking over man, the individual was drowning in the standard. He thought about the mysterious phenomenon of transforming all values ​​into exchange value, and saw the new power of money.

What allows the insignificant Tsakhes to turn into the powerful minister Zinnober? The three golden hairs that the compassionate fairy gave him have miraculous powers. This is by no means Balzac’s understanding of the merciless laws of modern times. Balzac was a doctor of social sciences, and Hoffmann was a seer, to whom science fiction helped reveal the prose of life and build brilliant guesses about the future. It is significant that the fairy tales where he gave free rein to his unbridled imagination have subtitles: “Tales from New Times.” He not only judged modern reality as a spiritless kingdom of “prose,” he made it the subject of depiction. “Intoxicated by fantasies, Hoffmann,” as the outstanding Germanist Albert Karelsky wrote about him, “is in fact disconcertingly sober.”

When leaving this life, in his last story, “The Corner Window,” Hoffmann shared his secret: “What the hell, do you think that I’m already getting better? Not at all... But this window is a consolation for me: here life again appeared to me in all its diversity, and I feel how close its never-ending bustle is to me.”

Hoffmann's Berlin house with a corner window and his grave in the Jerusalem cemetery were “gifted” to me by Mina Polyanskaya and Boris Antipov, from the breed of enthusiasts so revered by our hero of the day.

Hoffman in Russia

The shadow of Hoffmann beneficially overshadowed Russian culture in the 19th century, as philologists A. B. Botnikova and my graduate student Juliet Chavchanidze spoke about in detail and convincingly, who traced the relationship between Gogol and Hoffmann. Belinsky also wondered why Europe does not place the “brilliant” Hoffmann next to Shakespeare and Goethe. Prince Odoevsky was called the “Russian Hoffmann”. Herzen admired him. A passionate admirer of Hoffmann, Dostoevsky wrote about “Murrah the Cat”: “What truly mature humor, what power of reality, what anger, what types and portraits and next to it - what a thirst for beauty, what a bright ideal!” This is a worthy assessment of Hoffmann's work as a whole.

In the twentieth century, Kuzmin, Kharms, Remizov, Nabokov, and Bulgakov experienced the influence of Hoffmann. Mayakovsky did not remember his name in vain. It was no coincidence that Akhmatova chose him as her guide: “In the evening/ The darkness thickens,/ Let Hoffmann with me/ Reach the corner.”

In 1921, in Petrograd, at the House of Arts, a community of writers formed who named themselves in honor of Hoffmann - the Serapion Brothers. It included Zoshchenko, Vs. Ivanov, Kaverin, Lunts, Fedin, Tikhonov. They also met weekly to read and discuss their works. They soon drew reproaches from proletarian writers for formalism, which “came back” in 1946 in the Decree of the Central Committee of the All-Union Communist Party of Bolsheviks on the magazines “Neva” and “Leningrad”. Zoshchenko and Akhmatova were defamed and ostracized, doomed to civil death, but Hoffman also came under attack: he was called “the founder of salon decadence and mysticism.” For Hoffmann’s fate in Soviet Russia, the ignorant judgment of Zhdanov’s “Partaigenosse” had sad consequences: they stopped publishing and studying. A three-volume set of selected works of his was published only in 1962 by the publishing house " Fiction"with a circulation of one hundred thousand and immediately became a rarity. Hoffmann remained under suspicion for a long time, and only in 2000 a 6-volume collection of his works was published.

A wonderful monument to the eccentric genius could be the film Andrei Tarkovsky intended to make. Didn't have time. All that remains is his marvelous script - “Hoffmaniad”.

In June 2016, the International Literary Festival-Competition “Russian Hoffmann” started in Kaliningrad, in which representatives of 13 countries participate. Within its framework, an exhibition is envisaged in Moscow at the Library of Foreign Literature named after. Rudomino “Meetings with Hoffmann. Russian circle". In September, the full-length puppet film “Hoffmaniada” will be released on the big screen. The Temptation of Young Anselm”, in which the plots of the fairy tales “The Golden Pot”, “Little Tsakhes”, “The Sandman” and pages of the author’s biography are masterfully intertwined. This is the most ambitious project of Soyuzmultfilm, 100 puppets are involved, director Stanislav Sokolov filmed it for 15 years. The main artist of the picture is Mikhail Shemyakin. Two parts of the film were shown at the festival in Kaliningrad. We are waiting and anticipating a meeting with the revived Hoffmann.

Greta Ionkis

01/24/1776, Königsberg - 06/25/1822, Berlin
German writer, artist,
composer, music critic

Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann... There is something magical in this name. It is always pronounced in full, and it appears to be surrounded by a dark ruffled collar with fiery reflections.
However, this is how it should be, because in fact Hoffmann was a magician.
Yes, yes, not just a storyteller, like the Brothers Grimm or Perrault, but a real wizard.
Judge for yourself, because only a true magician can create miracles and fairy tales... out of nothing. From a bronze doorknob with a grinning face, from nutcrackers and the hoarse chime of an old clock; from the sound of the wind in the leaves and the night singing of cats on the roof. True, Hoffmann did not wear a black robe with mysterious signs, but wore a shabby brown tailcoat and used a quill feather instead of a magic wand.
Wizards will be born wherever and whenever they please. Ernst Theodor Wilhelm (as he was originally called) was born in the glorious city of Königsberg on the day of St. John Chrysostom in the family of a lawyer.
He probably acted rashly, for nothing resists magic more than laws and law.
And so a young man who, from early childhood, loved music more than anything in the world (and even took the name Amadeus in honor of Mozart), played the piano, violin, organ, sang, drew and wrote poetry - this young man should, like all his ancestors became an official.
Young Hoffman submitted, graduated from the university and served for many years in various judicial departments. He wandered through the cities of Prussia and Poland (which was also Prussian at that time), sneezed in dusty archives, yawned at court hearings and drew caricatures of members of the panel of judges in the margins of protocols.
More than once the ill-fated lawyer tried to quit his job, but this led to nothing. Having gone to Berlin to try his luck as an artist and musician, he almost died of hunger. In the small town of Bamberg, Hoffmann had the opportunity to be a composer and conductor, director and decorator in the theater; write articles and reviews for the “General Musical Newspaper”; give music lessons and even participate in the sale of sheet music and pianos! But this did not add either fame or money to him. Sometimes, sitting by the window in his tiny room right under the roof and looking at the night sky, he thought that things would never go well at the theater; that Julia Mark, his student, sings like an angel, and he is ugly, poor and unfree; and in general life was not a success...
Julchen was soon married off to a stupid but rich businessman and taken away forever.
Hoffmann left the disgusted Bamberg and went first to Dresden, then to Leipzig, was almost killed by a bomb during one of the last Napoleonic battles and finally...
Either fate took pity on him, or the patron saint John Chrysostom helped, but one day the unlucky bandmaster took a pen, dipped it in an inkwell and...
It was then that crystal bells rang, golden-green snakes whispered in the leaves, and the fairy tale “The Golden Pot” (1814) was written.
And Hoffmann finally found himself and his magical country. True, some guests from this country visited him before (“Cavalier Gluck”, 1809).
A lot of wonderful stories soon accumulated, and a collection of them was compiled called “Fantasies in the Manner of Callot” (1814-1815). The book was a success, and the author immediately became famous.
“I’m like children born on Sunday: they see things that other people can’t see.”. Hoffmann's fairy tales and short stories could be funny and scary, bright and sinister, but the fantastic in them arose unexpectedly, from the most ordinary things, from life itself. This was the great secret, which Hoffmann was the first to guess.
His fame grew, but there was still no money. And now the writer is again forced to put on the uniform of a justice adviser, now in Berlin.
Melancholy overcame him in this "human desert", but still, it was here that almost all of his best books were written: “The Nutcracker and the Mouse King” (1816), “Little Tsakhes” (1819), “Night Stories” (very scary), “Princess Brambilla” (1820), “ Everyday views of the cat Murr” and much more.
Gradually, a circle of friends formed - the same romantic dreamers as Hoffmann himself. Their funny and serious conversations about art, about secrets human soul and other subjects were embodied in the four-volume cycle “The Serapion Brothers” (1819-1821).
Hoffmann was full of plans, the service did not burden him too much, and everything would have been fine, but only... “The devil can put his tail on everything”.
Councilor Hoffmann, as a member of the appeal court, stood up for an unjustly accused man, provoking the wrath of police director von Kamptz. Moreover, the daring writer portrayed this worthy figure of the Prussian state in the story “The Lord of the Fleas” (1822) under the guise of Privy Councilor Knarrpanti, who first arrested the criminal and then selected a suitable crime for him. Von Kamptz complained to the king in a rage and ordered the manuscript of the story to be confiscated. A lawsuit was brought against Hoffmann, and only the troubles of his friends and a serious illness saved him from persecution.
He was almost completely paralyzed, but did not lose hope until the end. The last miracle was the story “The Corner Window,” where an elusive life was captured on the fly and captured for us forever.

Margarita Pereslegina

WORKS OF E.T.A.HOFFMANN

COLLECTED WORKS: In 6 volumes: Transl. with him. / Preface A. Karelsky; Comment. G. Shevchenko. - M.: Artist. lit., 1991-2000.
Russia has always loved Hoffmann. Educated youth read to them in German. In the library of A.S. Pushkin there was a complete collection of Hoffmann’s works in French translations. Very soon Russian translations appeared, for example, “The History of Nutcrackers”, or “The Nutcracker and the King of Mice” - that’s what “The Nutcracker” was called then. It is difficult to list all the figures of Russian art who were influenced by Hoffmann (from Odoevsky and Gogol to Meyerhold and Bulgakov). And yet, some mysterious force for a long time prevented the publication of all E. T. A. Hoffmann’s books in Russian. Only now, almost two centuries later, we can read the writer’s famous and unfamiliar texts, collected and commented on, as befits the works of a genius.

SELECTED WORKS: 3 volumes / Intro. Art. I. Mirimsky. - M.: Goslitizdat, 1962.

THE EVERYDAY VIEWS OF THE CAT MURR COUPLED WITH FRAGMENTS OF THE BIOGRAPHY OF Kapellmeister JOHANNES KREISLER, ACCIDENTALLY SURVIVING IN THE RECOVERY SHEETS / Trans. with him. D. Karavkina, V. Grib // Hoffman E.T.A. Lord of the Fleas: Stories, novel. - M.: EKSMO-Press, 2001. - P. 269-622.
One day, Hoffmann saw that his pupil and favorite tabby cat named Murr was opening his desk drawer with his paw and laying down there to sleep on the manuscripts. Has he really learned to read and write? This is how the idea of ​​this extraordinary book arose, in which the thoughtful reasoning and “heroic” adventures of the cat Murr are interspersed with pages of the biography of his owner, Kapellmeister Kreisler, who is so similar to Hoffmann himself.
The novel, unfortunately, remained unfinished.

THE GOLDEN POT AND OTHER STORIES: Trans. with him. / Afterword D. Chavchanidze; Rice. N. Golts. - M.: Det. lit., 1983. - 366 pp.: ill.
Behind the visible and tangible world there is another, wonderful world, full of beauty and harmony, but it does not open to everyone. This will be confirmed to you by the little knight Nutcracker, and the poor student Anselm, and the mysterious stranger in an embroidered camisole - the gentleman Gluck...

GOLDEN POT; LITTLE TZAHES, NAMED ZINNOBER: Fairy Tales: Trans. with him. / Intro. Art. A. Gugnina; Artist N. Golts. - M.: Det. lit., 2002. - 239 p.: ill. - (School library).
Don't try to unravel the secret of Hoffmann's two most magical, deepest and most elusive stories. No matter how you weave a network of social and philosophical theories, the green snakes will still slide into the water of the Elbe and only sparkle with emerald sparks... Read and listen to these fairy tales, like music, following the play of melody, the whims of fantasy, entering enchanted halls, opening the gates of wonderful parks... Just while you're daydreaming, don't trip over some basket of apples. After all, her owner may turn out to be a real witch.

KREYSLERIANA; LIFE VIEWS OF THE CAT MURRA; DIARIES: Transl. with him. - M.: Nauka, 1972. - 667 p.: ill. - (Lit. monuments).
KREYSLERIANA; NOVELLS: Trans. with him. - M.: Music, 1990. - 400 p.
"Kreysleriana"
“There is only one angel of light who can overcome the demon of evil. This bright angel is the spirit of music..." Kapellmeister Johannes Kreisler utters these words in the novel Murr the Cat, but for the first time this hero appears in Kreislerian, where he expresses Hoffmann's most sincere and profound thoughts about music and musicians.

"Fermata", "Poet and Composer", "Singing Competition"
In these short stories, Hoffman plays out in different ways the themes that worried him all his life: what creativity is; at what cost is perfection in art achieved?

SANDMAN: Stories: Trans. with him. / Rice. V. Bisengalieva. - M.: Text, 1992. - 271 p.: ill. - (Magic Lantern).
"Ignaz Denner", "Sandman", "Doge and Dogaressa", "Falun Mines"
Evil sorcerers, nameless dark forces and the devil himself are always ready to take possession of a person. Woe to him who trembles before them and lets darkness into his soul!

"Mademoiselle de Scudéry: A Tale from the Time of Louis XIV"
The novella about the mysterious crimes that struck Paris in the 17th century is Hoffmann’s first work translated into Russian and the first detective story in the history of literature.

SANDMAN: [Stories, short stories] / Preface. A. Karelsky. - St. Petersburg: Crystal, 2000. - 912 p.: ill.
"Adventure on New Year's Eve"
“Nothing consistent, just God knows what kind of incidents” happen at this time. On an icy, blizzard night, in a small Berlin tavern, a traveler who casts no shadow and a poor artist who, strange to say... is not reflected in the mirror, can meet!

"Lord of the Fleas: A Tale in Seven Adventures of Two Friends"
The kind eccentric Peregrinus Tys, without knowing it, saves the master flea and all the fleas of the ruler. As a reward, he receives a magic glass that allows him to read other people's thoughts.

SERAPION BROTHERS: E.T.A.HOFFMANN. SERAPION BROTHERS; “SERAPION BROTHERS” IN PETROGRAD: Anthology / Comp., preface. and comment. A.A.Gugnina. - M.: Higher. school, 1994. - 736 p.
E.T.A. Hoffmann’s collection “The Serapion Brothers” is published almost in the same form in which it appeared during the life of the author and his friends - writers F. de la Motte Fouquet, A. von Chamisso, lawyer J. Hitzig, doctor and poet D.F. Koreff and others, who named their circle in honor of the clairvoyant hermit Serapion. Their charter stated: freedom of inspiration and imagination and the right of everyone to be themselves.
A hundred years later, in 1921, in Petrograd, young Russian writers united in the Serapion Brotherhood - in honor of Hoffmann and the romantics, in the name of Art and Friendship, in spite of the chaos and war of parties. A collection of works by the new “serapions” Mikhail Zoshchenko, Lev Lunts, Vsevolod Ivanov, Veniamin Kaverin and others is also published in this book for the first time since 1922.

THE NUTCRACKER AND THE MOUSE KING: A Christmas Tale / Transl. with him. I. Tatarinova; Il. M. Andrukhina. - Kaliningrad: Blagovest, 1992. - 111 p.: ill. - (The Magic Piggy Bank of Childhood).
“Tick-and-tock, tick-and-tock! Don't wheeze so loudly! The mouse king hears everything... Well, the clock, the old tune! Trick-and-truck, boom-boom!
Let's tiptoe into Councilor Stahlbaum's living room, where Christmas candles are already burning and gifts are laid out on the tables. If you stand to the side and don’t make noise, you will see amazing things...
This fairy tale is almost two hundred years old, but strange! The Nutcracker and little Marie have not aged at all since then, and the Mouse King and his mother Myshilda have not become any kinder.

Margarita Pereslegina

LITERATURE ABOUT THE LIFE AND WORK OF E. T. A. HOFFMANN

Balandin R.K. Hoffman // Balandin R.K. One hundred great geniuses. - M.: Veche, 2004. - P. 452-456.
Berkovsky N.Ya. Hoffman: [On life, the main themes of creativity and Hoffman’s influence on world literature] // Berkovsky N.Ya. Articles and lectures on foreign literature. - St. Petersburg: ABC-classics, 2002. - P. 98-122.
Berkovsky N.Ya. Romanticism in Germany. - St. Petersburg: ABC-classics, 2001. - 512 p.
From the content: E.T.A.Hoffman.
Belza I. Wonderful genius: [Hoffmann and music] // Hoffmann E.T.A. Kreisleriana; Novels. - M.: Music, 1990. - P. 380-399.
Hesse G. [About Hoffmann] // Hesse G. The magic of the book. - M.: Book, 1990. - P. 59-60.
Goffman E.T.A. Life and creativity: Letters, statements, documents: Trans. with him. / Comp., preface. and after. K.Guntzel. - M.: Raduga, 1987. - 462 p.: ill.
Gugnin A. “Serapion’s brothers” in the context of two centuries // Serapion’s brothers: E.T.A.Hoffman. Serapion brothers; "Serapion's Brothers" in Petrograd: An Anthology. - M.: Higher. school, 1994. - P. 5-40.
Gugnin A. Fantastic reality of E.T.A.Hoffman // Hoffman E.T.A. Golden pot; Little Tsakhes, nicknamed Zinnober. - M.: Det. lit., 2002. - P. 5-22.
Dudova L. Hoffman, Ernst Theodor Amadeus // Foreign writers: Biobibliogr. Dictionary: In 2 hours: Part 1. - M.: Bustard, 2003. - P. 312-321.
Kaverin V. Speech on the centenary of the death of E.T.A.Hoffman // Serapion brothers: E.T.A.Hoffman. Serapion brothers; "Serapion's Brothers" in Petrograd: An Anthology. - M.: Higher. school, 1994. - pp. 684-686.
Karelsky A. Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffman // Hoffman E.T.A. Collection Op.: In 6 vols. - M.: Khudozh. lit., 1991-2000. - T. 1. - P. 5-26.
Mistler J. The Life of Hoffmann / Trans. from fr. A. Frankovsky. - L.: Academia, 1929. - 231 p.
Piskunova S. Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffman // Encyclopedia for children: T. 15: World literature: Part 2: XIX and XX centuries. - M.: Avanta+, 2001. - P. 31-38.
Fümann F. Little Tsakhes, nicknamed Zinnober // Meeting: Stories and essays by GDR writers about the era of Sturm and Drang and Romanticism. - M., 1983. - P. 419-434.
Kharitonov M. Fairy tales and the life of Hoffmann: Preface // Hoffman E.T.A. Little Tsakhes, nicknamed Zinnober. - Saratov: Privolzhsk. book publishing house, 1984. - pp. 5-16.
The artistic world of E.T.A. Hoffmann: [Sb. articles]. - M.: Nauka, 1982. - 295 p.: ill.
Zweig S. E. T. A. Hoffmann: Preface to the French edition of “Princess Brambilla” // Zweig S. Collection. cit.: In 9 volumes - M.: Bibliosphere, 1997. - T. 9. - P. 400-402.
Shcherbakova I. Drawings by E.T.A. Hoffmann // Panorama of Arts: Vol. 11. - M.: Sov. artist, 1988. - pp. 393-413.