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Captive of the Caucasus work. The history of the creation of Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy’s story “Prisoner of the Caucasus”

I would like to present one of the works of L.N. Tolstoy, his summary. « Caucasian prisoner" is a work that the writer took on at the request of the editors of two magazines: Zarya and Beseda. At that time, these magazines were not widely distributed. Tolstoy completed his story in 1872 on March 25th. The publication of the work did not have to wait long: in the same year, “Prisoner of the Caucasus” appeared on the pages of the Zarya magazine.

The basis of the story was an incident that actually happened to the author. On June 13, 1853, five Russian officers were attacked by Chechens in the Caucasus, among them was Tolstoy.

Summary. “Prisoner of the Caucasus”: the beginning of the story

Officer Zhilin served in the Caucasus. One day he received a letter from his mother, after reading it, he decided to visit home. On the way there, he and Kostylin (another Russian officer) were attacked by highlanders. Everything happened through the fault of Kostylin; instead of covering Zhilin, he started to run. So the officers, instead of their home, were captured by the highlanders. The prisoners were shackled and locked in a barn.

Next we present the story “Prisoner of the Caucasus” (summary). Then the following events occur. The officers, under pressure from the mountaineers, were forced to send letters to their relatives asking them to ransom them. Kostylin wrote, but Zhilin deliberately indicated an unreliable address, because he knew that the poor old mother would not have any money. They lived like this in the barn for a month. During this time, Zhilin won over the owner’s daughter Dina. A Russian officer surprised a thirteen-year-old child homemade dolls, the girl thanked him for this, secretly bringing cakes and milk. Zhilin was haunted by the thought of escaping, and he decided to make a tunnel.

The long-awaited escape

One night they decided to escape: they crawled into a tunnel and planned to get to the fortress through the forest. In the darkness they went in the wrong direction and ended up near a strange village. They had to quickly change direction before the mountaineers caught them. Kostylin complained all the way, constantly falling behind and groaning. Zhilin could not leave his comrade and decided to carry him on himself. Due to the heavy burden (the fat and awkward Kostylin), he quickly got tired. The movement of the officers was very slow, so they were quickly overtaken, brought back, severely beaten with whips and put not in a barn, but in a hole 5 arshins deep.

Savior Dina

Zhilin is not used to giving up. He constantly thought about how he could escape. His savior was the owner’s daughter Dina, whom we mentioned earlier. At night, the girl brought the officer a long stick, with which he was able to climb up.

Having got out of the hole, Zhilin ran downhill and tried to remove the blocks, but the lock was so strong that he was unable to do this. Dina helped the officer with all her might, but the child’s support was in vain. The prisoner decided to escape just like that. Zhilin said goodbye to the girl, thanked her for the flat cakes she brought, and walked away in the stocks.

Freedom at last

The unshakable Russian officer finally reached the end of the forest at dawn, and the Cossacks appeared on the horizon. However, on the other side, the mountaineers were catching up with Zilina, it seemed that his heart was about to freeze. The officer got ready and shouted at the top of his lungs so that the Cossacks could hear him. The mountaineers got scared and stopped. This is how Zhilin escaped.

After this incident, the officer decided to live in the Caucasus. Kostylin remained in captivity for another month, and only then, barely alive, was he finally ransomed.

This concludes the summary. “Prisoner of the Caucasus” is one of the most poetic and perfect works in “Russian Reading Books”.

We told you about the story “Prisoner of the Caucasus” (summary) by Tolstoy Lev Nikolaevich. It is essentially a miniature novel aimed at children.


Circassian song
Epilogue
Notes

Basics

"Prisoner of the Caucasus"- the second completed poem by Alexander Pushkin. The poem was written in 1820-1821. during the southern exile.
“Prisoner of the Caucasus” combines elements of descriptive (Pushkin planned to write descriptive poems about Crimea and the Caucasus) and plot romantic poem: the epic line (the Caucasus, the exotic life of the highlanders, the arrival of Russian conquerors) is intertwined with the lyrical line (the love of a captive Russian and a Circassian woman). For the first time Pushkin depicts romantic hero- contemporary. The poem gained enormous popularity, including causing many imitations. The poem of the same name (borrowing entire fragments of text from Pushkin) was written by 14-year-old Lermontov.

“The Prisoner of the Caucasus” was significantly influenced by Byron’s poems - “Don Juan”, “The Bride of Abydos”, “The Giaour” - with French translations of which Pushkin became acquainted during his southern exile.

In the epilogue to this lyric poem Pushkin concerns military-political issues. There is no doubt that the romantic poet did not intend to glorify the aggressive policy of the Russian government. “The ardent Tsitsianov”, Kotlyarevsky, “the scourge of the Caucasus” Ermolov, from whose approach “the East rises to howl” - in them the young romantic looked for a living embodiment of the same ideal of the “romantic hero”, which, in his words, and “the horror of people and glory was worthy."

The romantic style created by Pushkin in “Prisoner of the Caucasus” for a long time became a model of the style of all romantic poems.

Despite Pushkin's critical statements about his poem, he still loved it. In the draft version of his letter to N.I. Gnedich dated April 29, 1822, we read: “You see that fatherly tenderness does not blind me about the “Prisoner of the Caucasus,” but I confess that I love him, without knowing why; there are poems from my heart. My Circassian woman is dear to me, her love touches my soul.” In 1829, in “Travel to Arzrum” he wrote: “Here I found a tattered list of “Caucasian Prisoner” and, I confess, re-read it with great pleasure. All this is weak, young, incomplete; but much is guessed and expressed correctly.”

“Prisoner of the Caucasus” is dedicated to N. N. Raevsky (son of the hero of the Patriotic War of 1812), a close friend of the young poet who supported him during the difficult events of the spring of 1820 that preceded his exile to the south. “You know our close connection,” Pushkin wrote about N. Raevsky to his brother, “and important services, forever unforgettable for me...” (letter dated September 24, 1820)

(True)

1

One gentleman served as an officer in the Caucasus. His name was Zhilin.

One day he received a letter from home. His old mother writes to him: “I have become old, and I want to see my beloved son before I die. Come say goodbye to me, bury me, and then with God, go back to the service. And I have found a bride for you: she is smart, and good, and has property. If you fall in love, maybe you’ll get married and stay completely.”

Zhilin thought about it: “And indeed: the old woman has become really bad; maybe you won't have to see it. go; and if the bride is good, you can get married.”

Tolstoy. Caucasian prisoner. Audiobook

He went to the colonel, straightened out his leave, said goodbye to his comrades, gave his soldiers four buckets of vodka as a farewell, and got ready to leave.

There was a war in the Caucasus at that time. There was no passage on the roads either day or night. As soon as any of the Russians leave or move away from the fortress, the Tatars will either kill them or take them to the mountains. And it was customary that escorted soldiers walked from fortress to fortress twice a week. Soldiers walk in front and behind, and people ride in the middle.

It was summer. At dawn the convoys gathered for the fortress, the accompanying soldiers came out and set off along the road. Zhilin was riding on horseback, and the cart with his things was in the wagon train.

It was 25 miles to go. The convoy walked quietly; Then the soldiers will stop, then someone’s wheel will come off in the wagon train, or a horse will stop, and everyone will stand there, waiting.

The sun had already set for half a day, and the convoy had only covered half the road. Dust, heat, the sun is so hot, but there is nowhere to hide. Bare steppe, not a tree or bush along the road.

Zhilin rode forward, stopped and waited for the convoy to arrive. He hears a horn playing behind him - stand there again. Zhilin thought: “Shouldn’t I leave alone, without soldiers? The horse under me is good, even if I attack the Tatars, I will gallop away. Or not to go?..”

He stopped and thought. And another officer, Kostylin, with a gun, rides up to him on a horse and says:

- Let's go, Zhilin, alone. There’s no urine, I’m hungry, and it’s hot. At least squeeze my shirt out. - And Kostylin is a heavy, fat man, all red, and the sweat is pouring off him. Zhilin thought and said:

- Is the gun loaded?

- Charged.

- Well, then let's go. The only agreement is not to leave.

Tolstoy. Caucasian prisoner. Feature film, 1975

And they drove forward along the road. They drive along the steppe, talk and look around. You can see far all around.

As soon as the steppe ended, the road went between two mountains into a gorge, Zhilin said:

“We need to go out onto the mountain and have a look, otherwise they’ll probably jump out from behind the mountain and you won’t see it.”

And Kostylin says:

– What to watch? let's go ahead.

Zhilin did not listen to him.

“No,” he says, “you wait downstairs, and I’ll just take a look.”

And he turned his horse to the left, up the mountain. The horse near Zhilin was a hunting horse (he paid a hundred rubles for it in the herd as a foal and rode it out himself); how she carried him up the steep slope on wings. As soon as he jumped out, lo and behold, in front of him, on a tithe of space, there were about thirty Tatars standing on horseback. He saw it and began to turn back; and the Tatars saw him, rushed towards him, and at a gallop they grabbed their guns from their cases. Zhilin set off at full speed and shouted to Kostylin:

- Take out your gun! - and he thinks to his horse: “Mother, take it out, don’t catch your foot, you’ll stumble - you’re lost.” If I get to the gun, I won’t give in to them.”

And Kostylin, instead of waiting, as soon as he saw the Tatars, he ran as fast as he could towards the fortress. The horse is fried with a whip, first from one side, then from the other. Only in the dust can you see the horse wagging its tail.

Zhilin sees that things are bad. The gun is gone, you can’t do anything with one checker. He started the horse back to the soldiers - he thought about leaving. He sees six people rolling across him. Under him the horse is kind, and under those they are even kinder, and they even gallop across. He began to turn around, wanted to turn back, but the horse was already running wild, he couldn’t hold it, he was flying straight at them. He sees a Tatar with a red beard on a gray horse approaching him. Squeals, teeth bared, gun at the ready.

“Well,” Zhilin thinks, “I know you devils, if they take you alive, put you in a pit, and flog you with a whip. I won’t give in alive.”

And Zhilin, although small in stature, was brave. He grabbed his saber, launched his horse straight at the Red Tatar, and thought: “I’ll either knock him down with the horse or cut him down with the saber.”

Zhilin couldn’t get enough space to get onto his horse, they shot at him from behind with guns and hit the horse. The horse hit the ground with all its might and fell on Zilina’s leg.

He wanted to get up, but two stinking Tatars were sitting on him, twisting his arms back. He rushed, threw off the Tatars, and three people jumped off their horses and started beating him on the head with rifle butts. His vision grew dim and he staggered. The Tatars grabbed him, removed the spare girths from the saddles, twisted his arms behind his back, tied him with a Tatar knot, and dragged him to the saddle. They knocked off his hat, pulled off his boots, ransacked everything, took out his money, his watch, and tore up his dress. Zhilin looked back at his horse. She, my dear, fell on her side and lies there, only kicking her legs - she doesn’t reach the ground; There’s a hole in my head, and black blood is whistling out of the hole—the dust has moistened an arshin all around.

One Tatar approached the horse and began to remove the saddle. She keeps beating,” he took out a dagger and cut her throat. It whistled from the throat, fluttered, and the steam was gone.

The Tatars took off the saddle and harness. The Tatar with a red beard sat on the horse, and the others lifted Zhilin into the saddle; and so as not to fall, they pulled him with a belt to the Tatar and took him to the mountains.

Zhilin sits behind the Tatar, sways, rubs his face into the stinking Tatar back. All he sees in front of him is a hefty Tatar back, a sinewy neck, and the shaved back of his head turning blue under his hat. Zhilin’s head is broken, blood is caked above his eyes. And he can neither recover on horseback nor wipe off the blood. My arms are twisted so tightly that my collarbone ache.

They drove for a long time from mountain to mountain, forded a river, got onto the road and drove through a ravine.

Zhilin wanted to notice the road where he was being taken, but his eyes were smeared with blood, but he couldn’t turn around.

It began to get dark. We crossed another river, began to climb a stone mountain, there was a smell of smoke, and dogs began to bark.

We arrived at the village. The Tatars got off their horses, the Tatar boys gathered, surrounded Zhilin, squealed, rejoiced, and began to shoot stones at him.

The Tatar drove the guys away, took Zhilin off his horse and called to the worker. A Nogai with high cheekbones came, wearing only a shirt. The shirt is torn, the whole chest is bare. The Tatar ordered something to him. The worker brought a block: two oak blocks were mounted on iron rings, and in one ring there was a punch and a lock.

They untied Zhilin’s hands, put him in a shoe and led him into the barn: they pushed him there and locked the door. Zhilin fell on the manure. He lay down, felt in the dark, where it was softer, and lay down.

2

Zhilin did not sleep almost all that night. The nights were short. He sees that the crack has begun to glow. Zhilin got up, dug out a larger crack, and began to look.

He can see the road from the crack - it goes downhill, to the right is a Tatar hut, two trees next to it. A black dog lies on the threshold, a goat with kids walks around, their tails twitching. He sees a young Tatar woman coming from under the mountain, wearing a colored shirt, a belt, pants and boots, her head covered with a caftan, and on her head a large tin jug of water. He walks, his back trembles, he bends over, and the Tatar girl leads the shaven man in only a shirt by the hand. The Tatar woman went into the hut with water, the Tatar from yesterday came out with a red beard, wearing a silk beshmet, a silver dagger on his belt, and shoes on his bare feet. On the head is a tall, black, lamb’s hat, folded back. He came out, stretched, and stroked his red beard. He stood there, said something to the worker, and went somewhere.

Then two guys rode on horseback to a watering hole. Horses snore wetly. More boys ran out, shaved, wearing only shirts, without trousers, gathered in a group, went up to the barn, took a twig and stuck it in the crack. Zhilin howled at them: the guys screamed and started running away, only their bare knees shining.

But Zhilin is thirsty, his throat is dry; He thinks that they should at least come and visit. He hears the barn being unlocked. The Red Tatar came, and with him another, shorter, blackish. The eyes are black, light, ruddy, the beard is small, trimmed; The face is cheerful, everyone is laughing. The blackish one is dressed even better: a blue silk beshmet, trimmed with braid. The dagger on the belt is large, silver; The shoes are red, morocco, also trimmed with silver. And on thin shoes there are other thick shoes. The hat is tall, white lambskin.

The Red Tatar entered, said something as if he was swearing, and stood up; leaning on the ceiling, moving his dagger, like a wolf looking sideways at Zhilin. And the blackish one - fast, lively, and walks all on springs - came straight up to Zhilin, squatted down, bared his teeth, patted him on the shoulder, began to babble something often, often in his own way, winked with his eyes, clicked his tongue, keeps saying: “Koroshourus!” koroshowrus!”

Zhilin did not understand anything and said: “Drink, give me water to drink!”

Black laughs. “Korosh Urus,” everyone babbles in their own way.

Zhilin indicated with his lips and hands that they give him a drink.

Black understood, laughed, looked out the door, called someone: “Dina!”

A girl came running - thin, skinny, about thirteen years old and her face looked like a black one. Apparently it's a daughter. Also, her eyes are black, light and she has a beautiful face. Dressed in a long, blue shirt, with wide sleeves and without a belt. On the floors, on the chest and on the sleeves there is a delay of red. On his feet are trousers and shoes, and on his shoes are others with high heels; Monisto on the neck, all made from Russian fifty dollars. The head is bare, the braid is black, and there is a ribbon in the braid, and on the ribbon are hung plaques and a silver ruble.

Her father told her something. She ran away and came again, bringing a tin jug. She handed over the water, squatted down, and bent all over so that her shoulders went below her knees. She sits with her eyes open, looking at Zhilin as he drinks, as if at some kind of animal.

Zhilin handed her back the jug. How she will jump away like a wild goat. Even my father laughed. Sent her somewhere else. She took the jug, ran, brought unleavened bread on a round board and sat down again, bent over, and kept her eyes on it - looking.

The Tatars left and locked the door again.

After a while, a Nogai comes to Zhilin and says:

- Come on, master, come on!

He doesn't speak Russian either. Zhilin just realized that he was telling him to go somewhere.

Zhilin came with a block, he was limping, he couldn’t step, and he turned his leg to the side. Zhilin went out to get the Nogai. He sees a Tatar village, ten houses, and their church, with a turret. There are three horses in saddles near one house. The boys are holding on. A blackish Tatar jumped out of this house and waved his hand so that Zhilin would come towards him. He laughs himself, says something in his own way, and walks out the door. Zhilin came to the house. The room is good, the walls are smoothly smeared with clay. Colorful down jackets are stacked against the front wall, expensive carpets hang on the sides; on the carpets there are guns, pistols, checkers - everything is in silver. In one wall there is a small stove level with the floor. The floor is earthen, clean as a current, and the entire front corner is covered with felts; there are felt carpets and down pillows on the carpets. And on the carpets, wearing only shoes, sit the Tatars: black, red and three guests. Behind everyone's backs there are feather pillows, and in front of them on a round board there are millet pancakes and cow's butter dissolved in a cup, and Tatar beer - buza, in a jug. They eat with their hands, and their hands are all covered in oil.

The black man jumped up, ordered Zhilin to be seated aside, not on the carpet, but on the bare floor, climbed back onto the carpet, and treated the guests to pancakes and buza. The worker put Zhilin in his place, took off his upper shoes, placed them in a row by the door, where the other shoes stood, and sat down on the felt closer to the owners; watches them eat, wipes away their drool.

The Tatars ate pancakes, a Tatar woman came wearing a shirt the same as the girl’s and pants; the head is covered with a scarf. She took away the butter and pancakes, and gave her a good tub and a jug with a narrow nose. The Tatars began to wash their hands, then folded their hands, sat on their knees, blew in all directions and read prayers. We talked in our own way. Then one of the Tatar guests turned to Zhilin and began speaking in Russian.

“Kazi-Mugamed took you,” he says, “he points to the red Tatar,” and gave you to Abdul-Murat, “points to the blackish one.” – Abdul-Murat is now your master. - Zhilin is silent.

Abdul-Murat spoke, and kept pointing at Zhilin, and laughed, and said: “Urus soldier, good Urus.”

The translator says: “He tells you to write a letter home so that they send a ransom for you. As soon as the money is sent, he will let you in.”

Zhilin thought and said: “How much ransom does he want?”

The Tatars talked, the translator said:

- Three thousand coins.

“No,” says Zhilin, “I can’t pay for this.”

Abdul jumped up, started waving his arms, saying something to Zhilin, still thinking that he would understand. The translator translated and said: “How much will you give?”

Zhilin thought and said: “Five hundred rubles.”

Here the Tatars started talking often, all of a sudden. Abdul began to shout at the red one, babbling so much that drool was spraying out of his mouth. And the red one just squints and clicks his tongue.

They fell silent; the translator says:

“Five hundred rubles is not enough for the owner.” He himself paid two hundred rubles for you. Kazi-Mugamed owed him. He took you for a debt. Three thousand rubles, you can’t spend less. If you don’t write, they’ll put you in a hole and punish you with a whip.

“Eh,” Zhilin thinks, “it’s worse to be timid with them.” He jumped to his feet and said:

“And you tell him, the dog, that if he wants to scare me, I won’t give a penny, and I won’t write.” I wasn’t afraid, and I won’t be afraid of you dogs!

The translator retold the story, and suddenly everyone started talking again.

They chattered for a long time, the black one jumped up and approached Zhilin.

“Urus,” he says, “dzhigit, dzhigit Urus!”

In their language, Dzhigit means “well done.” And he laughs; said something to the translator, and the translator said:

- Give me a thousand rubles.

Zhilin stood his ground: “I won’t give you more than five hundred rubles. But if you kill, you won’t take anything.”

The Tatars talked, sent a worker somewhere, and they themselves looked at Zhilin, then at the door. A worker came, and a fat man, barefoot and ragged, followed him; there is also a block on the foot.

So Zhilin gasped, - he recognized Kostylin. And he was caught. They sat them down next to each other; They began to tell each other, but the Tatars remained silent and watched. Zhilin told how it happened with him; Kostylin said that the horse stopped under him and the gun stopped working, and that this same Abdul caught up with him and took him.

Abdul jumped up, pointed at Kostylin, and said something.

The translator translated that they are now both of the same owner, and whoever gives the ransom first will be released first.

“Here,” says Zhilin, “you are still angry, but your comrade is meek; he wrote a letter home, five thousand coins will be sent. So they will feed him well and will not offend him.

Zhilin says:

- Comrade, as he wants; He may be rich, but I am not rich. “I,” he says, “as I said, so it will be.” If you want to kill, it won’t do you any good, and I won’t write more than five hundred rubles.

We were silent. Suddenly Abdul jumped up, took out a chest, took out a pen, a piece of paper and ink, handed it to Zhilina, tapped him on the shoulder, indicating: “write.” I agreed to 500 rubles.

“Wait a little longer,” Zhilin says to the translator, “tell him to feed us well, dress and shoe us properly, to keep us together - it will be more fun for us, and to take off the stocks.” – He looks at the owner and laughs. The owner laughs too. He listened and said:

- I’ll wear the best clothes the best lady: and a Circassian coat, and boots, at least to get married. I will feed you like princes. And if they want to live together, let them live in a barn. But you can’t remove the block - they’ll leave. I'll only take it off at night. – He jumped up and patted him on the shoulder. - Yours is good, mine is good!

Zhilin wrote a letter, but on the letter he wrote it wrong so that it wouldn’t get through. He thinks: “I’ll leave.”

They took Zhilin and Kostylin to the barn, brought them corn straw, water in a jug, bread, two old Circassian coats and worn-out soldiers’ boots. Apparently they stole it from dead soldiers. At night they took off their stocks and locked them in a barn.

3

Zhilin and his friend lived like this for a whole month. The owner keeps laughing. - Yours, Ivan, is good, - mine, Abdul, is good. “But he fed me poorly; he only gave me unleavened bread made from millet flour, baked into flatbreads, or even unbaked dough.”

Kostylin wrote home again, still waiting for the money to be sent, and was bored. He sits in the barn all day long and counts the days until the letter arrives, or sleeps. But Zhilin knew that his letter would not arrive, but he did not write another.

“Where,” he thinks, “can my mother get so much money and pay for me?” And then she lived the more that I sent her. If she collects five hundred rubles, she must go completely broke. God willing, I’ll get out myself.”

And he himself is looking out for everything, trying to figure out how to escape. Walks around the village, whistling; and then he sits, doing some handicraft, or sculpting dolls from clay, or weaving braids from twigs. And Zhilin was a master of all kinds of needlework.

He once molded a doll, with a nose, arms, legs and a Tatar shirt, and placed the doll on the roof.

The Tatars went for water. The owner's daughter Dinka saw the doll and called the Tatar women. They stacked the jugs, looked, and laughed. Zhilin took off the doll and gave it to them. They laugh, but don’t dare take it. He left the doll, went into the barn and looked to see what would happen?

Dina ran up, looked around, grabbed the doll and ran away.

The next morning, at dawn, Dina came out onto the threshold with a doll. And she has already removed the doll with red rags and rocks it like a child, she lulls it to sleep in her own way. An old woman came out, scolded her, snatched the doll, broke it, and sent Dina off to work somewhere.

Zhilin made another doll, even better, and gave it to Dina. Once Dina brought a jug, put it down, sat down and looked at it, she laughed and pointed at the jug.

“Why is she happy?” - Zhilin thinks. He took the jug and began to drink. He thinks it’s water, but there’s milk. He drank the milk, “good,” he said. How Dina will rejoice!

- Okay, Ivan, okay! - and jumped up, clapped her hands, snatched the jug and ran away.

And from then on she began to steal milk for him every day. And then the Tatars make it from goat milk cheese cakes and dry them on the roofs - so she secretly brought these cakes to him. And once the owner was cutting a lamb, she brought him a piece of lamb in her sleeve. He will throw it and run away.

There was once a severe thunderstorm, and the rain poured down like buckets for an hour. And all the rivers where there was a ford became muddy, the water went three arshins deep, turning over stones. Streams are flowing everywhere, there is a roar in the mountains. This is how the thunderstorm passed, streams were running everywhere in the village. Zhilin asked the owner for a knife, cut out a roller, planks, feathered a wheel, and attached dolls to the wheel at both ends.

The girls brought him some scraps, and he dressed the dolls: one was a man, the other was a woman; approved them, placed the wheel on the stream. The wheel spins and the dolls jump.

The whole village gathered: boys, girls, women; and the Tatars came, clicking their tongues:

- Ay, Urus! ah, Ivan!

Abdul had a broken Russian watch. He called Zhilin, pointed, clicked his tongue. Zhilin says:

- Come on, I'll fix it.

He took it, took it apart with a knife, and laid it out; again he dealt with it and gave it away. The clock is ticking.

The owner was delighted, brought him his old beshmet, all in rags, and gave it to him. There’s nothing to do, I took it, and that’s enough to cover myself at night.

Since then, the fame of Zhilin has spread that he is a master. They began to come to him from distant villages: some would bring a lock on a gun or a pistol to repair, some would bring a watch. The owner brought him some gear; and tweezers, and gimlets, and filers.

Once a Tatar fell ill, they came to Zhilin: “Go and get treatment.” Zhilin doesn’t know anything about how to treat. He went and looked and thought: “Maybe he’ll get better on his own.” He went into the barn, took water and sand, and stirred it up. In front of the Tatars, he whispered to the water and gave it to him to drink. Luckily for him, the Tatar recovered. Zhilin began to understand a little of their language. And the Tatars who are accustomed to him, when necessary, call out: “Ivan, Ivan!” - and they all look sideways, as if looking at an animal.

The Red Tatar did not like Zhilin. When he sees you, he will frown and turn away or curse you. They also had an old man. He did not live in the village, but came from under the mountain. Zhilin saw him only when he came to the mosque to pray to God. He was small in stature, had a white towel wrapped around his hat, his beard and mustache were trimmed, white as feathers; and his face is wrinkled as red as a brick. The nose is hooked, like a hawk, and the eyes are gray, angry and there are no teeth - only two fangs. He used to walk in his turban, prop himself up with his crutch, like a wolf, looking around. As soon as he sees Zilina, he will snore and turn away.

Zhilin once went downhill to see where the old man lived. He walked down the path and saw a garden with a stone fence; from behind the fence there are cherry trees, sears and a hut with a flat roof. He came closer; he sees the hives standing, woven from straw, and the bees are flying and buzzing. And the old man is on his knees, fussing about something near the hive. Zhilin rose higher to take a look, and rattled the block. The old man looked around - he squealed; He grabbed a pistol from his belt and fired it at Zhilin. He barely managed to duck behind a stone.

An old man came to the owner to complain. The owner called Zhilin, he laughed and asked:

- Why did you go to the old man?

“I,” he says, “didn’t do him any harm.” I wanted to see how he lives.

The owner gave it. And the old man gets angry, hisses, babbles something, sticks out his fangs, waves his hands at Zhilin.

Zhilin did not understand everything; but I realized that the old man was telling the owner to kill the Russians, and not keep them in the village. The old man left.

Zhilin began to ask the owner: who is this old man? The owner says:

- This big man! He was the first horseman, he beat a lot of Russians, he was rich. He had three wives and eight sons. Everyone lived in the same village. The Russians came, ravaged the village and killed seven sons. One son remained and was handed over to the Russians. The old man went and handed himself over to the Russians. He lived with them for three months, found his son there, killed him himself and fled. Since then, he gave up fighting and went to Mecca to pray to God. This is why he has a turban. Anyone who has been to Mecca is called a haji and wears a turban. He doesn't love your brother. He orders you to be killed; Yes, I can’t kill you, I paid money for you; Yes, I loved you, Ivan; Not only would I kill you, I wouldn’t even let you out if I hadn’t given my word. - He laughs and says in Russian: “yours, Ivan, is good, mine, Abdul, is good!”

4

Zhilin lived like this for a month. During the day he walks around the village or does handicrafts, and when night comes and the village becomes quiet, he digs in his barn. It was difficult to dig because of the stones, but he rubbed the stones with a file, and he dug a hole under the wall just big enough to crawl through. “If only,” he thinks, “it’s time for me to really know which way to go.” Let no one say anything about the Tatars.”

So he chose the time when the owner left; After lunch I went behind the village to the mountain - I wanted to see the place from there. And when the owner was leaving, he ordered the little one to follow Zhilin and not let him out of his sight. The guy runs after Zhilin and shouts:

- Don't go! Father didn't order. Now I’ll call the people!

Zhilin began to persuade him.

“I,” he says, “will not go far, but I will climb that mountain: I need to find grass to heal your people.” Come with me; I won't run away with the block. Tomorrow I’ll make you a bow and arrows.

I persuaded the little guy, let's go. Looking at the mountain is not far, but it’s difficult with a block; walked, walked, climbed with difficulty. Zhilin sat down and began to look around the place. At midday, behind the mountain, there is a hollow, a herd is walking, and another village is visible in the low place. From the village there is another mountain - even steeper, and behind that mountain there is another mountain. Between the mountains the forest turns blue, and there the mountains rise higher and higher. And above all, mountains white as sugar stand under the snow. And one snowy mountain stands taller than the others. At sunrise and sunset there are still the same mountains; in some places villages smoke in the gorges. “Well,” he thinks, “this is all their side.” He began to look in the Russian direction: there was a river under his feet, his own village, kindergartens all around. You can see women sitting on the river like little dolls, rinsing. Behind the village, lower down, there is a mountain, and through it there are two more mountains, along them there is a forest; and between the two mountains there is a blue level place, and on the level place, far, far away, as if smoke is spreading. Zhilin began to remember when he lived in the fortress at home, where the sun rose and where it set. He sees: that’s right, our fortress should be in this valley. There, between these two mountains, we must run.

The sun began to set. The snowy mountains turned from white to scarlet; it became dark in the black mountains; steam rose from the hollows, and the very valley where our fortress should be, as if on fire, caught fire from the sunset. Zhilin began to peer: something was looming in the valley, like smoke from chimneys. And he thinks that this is the Russian fortress.

It's getting late. You can hear the mullah shout. The herd is being driven - the cows are roaring. The guy keeps calling: “Let’s go,” but Zhilin doesn’t want to leave.

They returned home. “Well,” Zhilin thinks, “now I know the place; I have to run." He wanted to escape that same night. The nights were dark - the damage of the month. Unfortunately, the Tatars returned in the evening. Sometimes they would come and take their cattle with them and come cheerful. And this time they didn’t bring anything, but brought their dead Tatar, the red-haired brother, on the saddle. They arrived angry and gathered to bury everything. Zhilin went out and looked. They wrapped the dead man in linen, without a coffin, carried him out under the plane trees outside the village, and laid him on the grass. The mullah arrived, the old people gathered, tied their hats with towels, took off their shoes, and sat down on their heels in a row in front of the dead man.

In front is a mullah, behind are three old men in turbans, in a row, and behind them are more Tatars. They sat down, looked down and were silent. They were silent for a long time. The mullah raised his head and said:

- Allah! (means god) - He said this one word, and again they looked down and were silent for a long time; sitting, not moving. The mullah raised his head again:

- Allah! - and everyone said: “Alla” - and fell silent again. The dead man lies on the grass, does not move, and they sit as if dead. Not a single one moves. You can just hear the leaves on the plane tree turning in the breeze. Then the mullah read a prayer, everyone stood up, picked up the dead man in their arms, and carried him away. They brought me to the pit. The hole was not just dug, but dug underground, like a basement. They took the dead man under the armpits and under the waist, bent him over, lowered him a little, slipped him sitting under the ground, and tucked his hands on his stomach.

The Nogai brought green reeds, filled the hole with reeds, quickly covered them with earth, leveled them, and placed a stone upright at the dead man’s head. They trampled the ground and sat down again in a row in front of the grave. They were silent for a long time.

- Allah! Allah! Allah! - They sighed and stood up.

The red-haired man handed out money to the old people, then got up, took the whip, hit himself three times on the forehead and went home.

The next morning he sees Zhilin - he is leading a red mare outside the village, and three Tatars are following him. They went out of the village, took off the red beshmet, rolled up his sleeves - his hands were healthy - he took out a dagger and sharpened it on a block. The Tatars lifted the mare's head up, the redhead came up, cut the throat, knocked the mare down and began to skin him - he ripped up the skin with his fists. Women and girls came and began to wash the intestines and insides. Then they chopped up the mare and dragged her into the hut. And the whole village gathered at the redhead’s to commemorate the deceased.

For three days they ate the mare, drank buza, and commemorated the deceased. All the Tatars were at home. On the fourth day, Zhilin sees, they are going somewhere for lunch. They brought the horses, cleaned up and about 10 people rode off, and the red one rode off: only Abdul remained at home. The moon had just begun, the nights were still dark.

“Well,” Zhilin thinks, “now we have to run,” and says to Kostylin. And Kostylin became shy.

- How can I escape? We don't even know the road.

- I know the way.

- Yes, and we won’t get there at night.

“If we don’t get there, we’ll spend the night in the forest.” I picked up some flatbreads. Why are you going to sit? Well, they’ll send money, otherwise they won’t collect it. And the Tatars are now angry - because the Russians killed them. They say they want to kill us.

Kostylin thought and thought.

- Well, let's go.

5

Zhilin climbed into the hole, dug wider so that Kostylin could get through, and they sat - waiting for the village to quiet down.

As soon as the people in the village quieted down, Zhilin climbed under the wall and got out. Whispers to Kostylin: “Climb.” Kostylin also climbed up, but caught a stone with his foot and it rattled. And the owner had a guard - a motley dog, and an evil one; her name was Ulyashin. Zhilin had already fed her in advance. Ulyashin heard it, wandered in and rushed, followed by other dogs. Zhilin whistled a little, threw a piece of flatbread, Ulyashin recognized it, waved his tail and stopped babbling.

The owner heard it and shouted from the saklya: “Get out!” Screw it! Ulyashin!

And Zhilin scratches Ulyashin behind the ears. The dog is silent, rubs against his legs, wags its tail.

They sat around the corner. Everything became quiet; You can only hear a sheep fluttering in the nook and below the water making noise on the pebbles. Dark; the stars stand high in the sky; Above the mountain the young moon has turned red and is moving upward with its horns. In the hollows the fog turns white like milk.

Zhilin stood up and said to his comrade: “Well, brother, let’s go!”

We set off; As soon as they walked away, they heard the mullah on the roof singing: “Alla! Besmilla! Ilrahman! This means that people will go to the mosque. They sat down again, hiding under the wall. We sat for a long time, waiting for the people to pass. It became quiet again.

- Well, with God! - We crossed ourselves, let's go. We walked through the yard under the steep slope to the river, crossed the river, and walked through the ravine. The fog is thick and low, but the stars are visible overhead. Zhilin notes from the stars which direction to go. It’s fresh in the fog, it’s easy to walk, only the boots are awkward - they’ve worn out. Zhilin took off his, threw them away, and walked barefoot. Jumps from pebble to pebble and looks at the stars. Kostylin began to lag behind.

“Hush,” he says, “go: damn boots, they’ve worn out all your feet.”

- Yes, take it off, it will be easier.

Kostylin went barefoot - even worse: he cut all his feet on the stones and kept falling behind. Zhilin tells him:

“If you peel your legs, they’ll heal, but if they catch up with you, they’ll kill you—that’s worse.”

Kostylin says nothing, walks on, grunts. They walked downhill for a long time. They hear the dogs wandering to the right. Zhilin stopped, looked around, climbed the mountain, and felt with his hands.

“Eh,” he says, “we made a mistake, we took it to the right.” This village is foreign, I saw it from the mountain; you have to go back and go left up the hill. There must be a forest here.

And Kostylin says:

“Wait at least a little, let me breathe, my legs are all bleeding.”

- Eh, brother, they will heal; you jump easier. That's how!

And Zhilin ran back, to the left, up the mountain, into the forest. Kostylin keeps falling behind and groans. Zhilin hisses and hisses at him, but he keeps walking.

We climbed the mountain. That's right - a forest. We entered the forest and the last dress was torn to pieces by the thorns. They attacked a path in the forest. They're coming.

- Stop! - It stomped its hooves along the road. They stopped and listened. It stomped like a horse and stopped.

They set off and it began to flood again. They will stop and it will stop. Zhilin crawled up, looked at the light along the road - there was something standing. The horse is not a horse, and there is something wonderful on the horse that doesn’t look like a person. He snorted - he heard. “What a miracle!” Zhilin whistled quietly, as he shuffled off the road into the forest and crackled through the forest, as if a storm was flying and breaking branches.

Kostylin fell down in fear. And Zhilin laughs and says:

- This is a deer. Do you hear how the forest breaks with its horns? We are afraid of him, and he is afraid of us.

Let's move on. The high temperatures have already begun to descend, and morning is not far away. Whether they are going there or not, they don’t know. It seems to Zhilin that they were taking him along this very road and that it would still be about ten miles to their own people; but there are no true signs, and you can’t make out the night. We went out into the clearing. Kostylin sat down and said:

“Whatever you want, I won’t get there, my legs can’t move.”

Zhilin began to persuade him.

“No,” he says, “I won’t get there, I can’t.”

Zhilin got angry, spat and cursed him.

- So I’ll leave alone, - goodbye!

Kostylin jumped up and walked away. They walked about four miles. The fog in the forest had settled even thicker, you couldn’t see anything in front of you, and the stars were barely visible.

Suddenly they hear a horse stomping ahead. You can hear horseshoes clinging to stones. Zhilin lay down on his belly and began to listen on the ground.

- That’s right - here, the horseman is coming to us.

They ran off the road, sat in the bushes and waited. Zhilin

crawled up to the road, looked - a Tatar on horseback was riding, chasing a cow, purring something under his breath. A Tatar passed by. Zhilin returned to Kostylin.

“Well,” said God, “get up, let’s go.”

Kostylin began to get up and fell.

- I can’t, - by God, I can’t; I have no strength.

The man is heavy, plump, sweating; and when he was enveloped in a cold fog in the forest, and his legs were skinned, he felt unsweetened. Zhilin began to lift him by force. As Kostylin shouts:

- Oh, it hurts!

Zhilin froze.

-Why are you shouting? After all, the Tatar is close - he will hear. – And he thinks: “He’s really relaxed; what should I do with it? It’s not good to abandon your comrade.”

“Well,” he says, “get up, sit on your back, I’ll take it down, if you can’t walk.”

He lifted Kostylin onto himself, grabbed him under the thighs with his hands, went out onto the road, and dragged him.

“Just,” he says, “don’t crush me by the throat with your hands, for Christ’s sake.” Hold on to your shoulders.

It’s hard for Zhilin - his legs are also bloody and exhausted. He bends down, corrects him, throws him up so that Kostylin sits higher on him, drags him along the road.

Apparently, the Tatar heard Kostylin scream. Zhilin hears, someone is driving behind, calling in his own way. Zhilin rushed into the bushes. The Tatar pulled out a gun, fired, missed, screamed in his own way and galloped away along the road.

“Well,” says Zhilin, “they’re gone, brother!” He, the dog, will now gather the Tatars in pursuit of us. If we don’t get three miles away, we’re gone. “And he thinks to Kostylin: “And the devil dared me to take this deck with me.” If I were alone, I would have left long ago.”

Kostylin says: “Go alone, why should you disappear because of me?”

- No, I won’t go, it’s not good to abandon a comrade. He picked him up again on his shoulders and hit him. He walked like this for a mile. All the forest is coming and there is no way out in sight. And the fog had already begun to disperse, and as if the clouds had begun to set, the stars were no longer visible. Zhilin was exhausted.

I came, there was a fontanel by the road, lined with stones. He stopped and unseated Kostylin.

“Let me rest,” he says, “and I’ll get drunk.” Let's eat some flatbread. It must be close.

As soon as he lay down to drink, he heard stomping behind him. Again they rushed to the right, into the bushes, under the steep slope, and lay down.

They hear Tatar voices; The Tatars stopped at the very place where they turned off the road. We talked, then got into a groove, like baiting dogs. They hear something crackling in the bushes, and someone else’s dog is walking right towards them. She stopped and wandered around.

The Tatars are also coming in; they are also strangers; They grabbed them, tied them up, put them on horses, and drove them away.

They drove about three miles, and Abdul the owner met them with two Tatars. I talked something with the Tatars, they put me on their horses, and took me back to the village.

Abdul no longer laughs or speaks a word to them.

They brought him to the village at dawn and sat him down on the street. The guys came running. They beat them with stones and whips and scream.

The Tatars gathered in a circle, and an old man came from under the mountain. They started talking. Zhilin hears that they are being judged, what to do with them. Some say: we need to send them further to the mountains, but the old man says: “we need to kill them.” Abdul argues and says: “I gave money for them, I’ll take a ransom for them.” And the old man says: “They won’t pay anything, they’ll only cause trouble. And it’s a sin to feed the Russians. Kill him and it’s over.”

We separated. The owner approached Zhilin and began to say to him:

“If,” he says, “they don’t send me a ransom for you, I’ll have you locked up in two weeks.” And if you decide to run away again, I’ll kill you like a dog. Write a letter, write well!

They brought them papers and they wrote letters. They put stocks on them and took them behind the mosque. There was a hole there about five arshins, and they lowered them into this hole.

6

Life became completely bad for them. The pads were not removed or released into the open world. They threw unbaked dough there, like dogs, and drained water in a jug. The stench in the pit, stuffiness, phlegm. Kostylin became completely ill, swollen, and there was aching all over his body; and everyone moans or sleeps. And Zhilin became depressed and saw that things were bad. And he doesn't know how to get out.

He began to dig up, but there was nowhere to throw the earth; The owner saw him and threatened to kill him.

He once squats in a hole, thinks about living freely, and is bored. Suddenly a flat cake fell right onto his knees, then another, and the cherries fell down. I looked up, and there was Dina. She looked at him, laughed and ran away. Zhilin thinks: “Won’t Dina help?”

He cleared a place in the hole, picked up clay, and began to sculpt dolls. I made people, horses, dogs, and thinks: “When Dina comes, I’ll throw it to her.”

Only the next day Dina is not there. And Zhilin hears - horses trampled, some people drove by, and Tatars gathered at the mosque, arguing, shouting and remembering the Russians. And he hears the old man's voice. He didn’t make it out well, but he guessed that the Russians had come close, and the Tatars were afraid that they might enter the village, and they didn’t know what to do with the prisoners.

We talked and left. Suddenly he hears something rustling upstairs. He sees: Dina squatted down, her knees sticking out above her head, hanging down, the monists hanging, dangling over the pit. The little eyes sparkle like stars; She took two cheese cakes out of her sleeve and threw them to him. Zhilin took it and said:

- Haven’t been there for a long time? And I made you some toys. Here you go! “He started throwing one at her. But she shakes her head and doesn’t look.

“No need,” he says. She paused, sat and said: “Ivan!” they want to kill you. – She points to her neck with her hand.

- Who wants to kill?

- Father, the old people tell him to. And I feel sorry for you.

Zhilin says:

“And if you feel sorry for me, then bring me a long stick.”

She shakes her head, saying “it’s impossible.” He folds his hands and prays to her:

- Dina, please! Dinushka, bring it!

“You can’t,” she said, “they’ll see, everyone’s at home,” and she left.

Here Zhilin sits in the evening and thinks: “what will happen?” Everything looks up. The stars are visible, but the month has not yet risen. Mulla shouted, everything fell silent. Zhilin had already begun to doze off, thinking: “The girl will be afraid.”

Suddenly clay fell on his head; I looked up - a long pole was poking into that edge of the hole. He stumbled, began to descend, and crawled into the hole. Zhilin was delighted, grabbed it with his hand and lowered it - the pole was healthy. He had seen this pole on the owner's roof before.

I looked up - the stars were shining high in the sky; and just above the pit, like a cat’s, Dina’s eyes glow in the dark. She bent her face to the edge of the pit and whispered: “Ivan, Ivan!” - and she keeps waving her hands in front of her face, saying “be quiet, please.”

- What? - says Zhilin.

“Everyone has left, only two are at home.”

Zhilin says:

- Well, Kostylin, let’s go and try. last time; I'll give you a ride.

Kostylin doesn’t even want to listen.

“No,” he says, “it’s obvious that I can’t get out of here. Where will I go when I don’t have the strength to turn around?”

- Well, then goodbye, - don’t remember it badly. – Kissed Kostylin.

He grabbed the pole, told Dina to hold it, and climbed. It broke off twice—the block was in the way. Kostylin supported him and somehow made it to the top. Dina pulls him by the shirt with her little hands, with all her might, laughing herself.

Zhilin took the pole and said:

“Take it back, Dina, otherwise they’ll catch you and kill you.”

She dragged the pole, and Zhilin went downhill. He climbed down the slope, took a sharp stone, and began to unscrew the lock from the block. And the lock is strong - it won’t knock down, and it’s awkward. He hears someone running from the mountain, jumping lightly. He thinks: “that’s right, Dina again.” Dina came running, took the stone and said:

She sat down on her knees and began to twist. Yes, the little hands are as thin as twigs - there is no strength whatsoever. She threw a stone and cried. Zhilin began to work on the lock again, and Dina squatted down next to him, holding his shoulder. Zhilin looked around and saw that to the left behind the mountain a red glow had lit up, the moon was rising. “Well,” he thinks, “we have to cross the ravine before the month and get to the forest.” He got up and threw a stone. Even if it’s in the block, you have to go.

“Goodbye,” says Dinushka. I will remember you forever.

Dina grabbed onto it: she rummaged through it with her hands, looking for somewhere to put the cakes. He took the cakes.

“Thank you,” he says, “you’re smart.” Who will make dolls for you without me? - And stroked her on the head.

As Dina began to cry, she covered herself with her hands and ran up the mountain, like a goat jumping. Only in the dark can you hear the monists in braids rattling their backs.

Zhilin crossed himself, grabbed the lock on the block with his hand so that it wouldn’t rattle, walked along the road, dragging his leg, and he kept looking at the glow, where the moon rose. He recognized the way. Go straight for about eight miles. If only I could get to the forest before the month is over. He crossed the river, and the light behind the mountain had already turned white. He walked through the ravine, walked, and looked for himself: he wouldn’t see him for another month. The glow has already brightened and on one side of the ravine it is becoming lighter and lighter. A shadow is creeping down the mountain, everything is approaching him.

Zhilin is walking, keeping all the shadows. He is in a hurry, and the month is getting closer; the tops of their heads began to glow to the right. He began to approach the forest, a month emerged from behind the mountains - it was white, as light as day. All leaves are visible on the trees. Quiet, light in the mountains, how everything died out. You can only hear the river gurgling below.

I reached the forest and no one was caught. Zhilin chose a darker place in the forest and sat down to rest.

I rested and ate a flatbread. He found a stone and began to knock down the block again. He beat all hands, but did not knock them down. He got up and walked along the road. I walked a mile, exhausted, my legs ached. He takes ten steps and stops. “There’s nothing to do,” he thinks, “I’ll drag on as long as I have the strength.” And if I sit down, I won’t get up. I won’t reach the fortress, but when it dawns, I’ll lie down in the forest, out front, and go again at night.”

I walked all night. Only two Tatars came across on horseback, but Zhilin heard them from afar and hid behind a tree.

The month had already begun to turn pale, the dew had fallen, close to the light, but Zhilin did not reach the edge of the forest. “Well,” he thinks, “I’ll walk another thirty steps, turn into the forest and sit down.” He walked thirty steps and saw that the forest ended. He went out to the edge - it was completely light, like the steppe and the fortress in front of him, and to the left, close under the mountain, the lights were burning, going out, smoke spreading and people around the fires.

He looked closely and saw: guns shining, Cossacks, soldiers.

Zhilin was delighted and gathered himself with the last of my strength, went downhill. And he himself thinks: “God forbid, here, in an open field, a Tatar on horseback will see; even close, but you won’t leave.”

Just thought - look: to the left, on a hillock, there are three Tatars, two tithes. They saw him and ran towards him. And so his heart sank. He waved his arms and shouted at the top of his voice:

- Brothers! help out! brothers!

Our people heard it, and the Cossacks on horseback jumped out. They set off towards him - in defiance of the Tatars.

The Cossacks are far away, but the Tatars are close. Yes, and Zhilin gathered his last strength, grabbed the block with his hand, ran to the Cossacks, but he didn’t remember himself, crossed himself and shouted:

- Brothers! brothers! brothers!

There were about fifteen Cossacks.

The Tatars got scared, and before they could get there, they began to stop. And Zhilin ran up to the Cossacks.

The Cossacks surrounded him and asked: “Who is he, what kind of person is he, where is he from?” But Zhilin doesn’t remember himself, he cries and says:

- Brothers! Brothers!

The soldiers ran out and surrounded Zhilin; some give him bread, some porridge, some vodka, some cover him with an overcoat, some break the block.

The officers recognized him and took him to the fortress. The soldiers rejoiced, their comrades gathered to see Zhilin.

Zhilin told how the whole thing happened to him and said:

- So I went home and got married! No, apparently this is not my destiny.

And he remained to serve in the Caucasus. And Kostylin was bought out only a month later for five thousand. They brought him barely alive.

teacher of Russian language and literature MOU

“Lyceum No. 1”, Chamzinka village, Republic of Mordovia

Pechkazova Svetlana Petrovna

History of the story

Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy

"Prisoner of the Caucasus"

LITERATURE LESSON IN 5TH GRADE


introduce students to the history of the creation of Leo Tolstoy’s story “Prisoner of the Caucasus”,

remember the terms “story”, “episode”, “plot” and “composition”,

help students understand the humanistic focus of the story


Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy -

writer, public figure, teacher

In 1859, Tolstoy discovered in Yasnaya Polyana a school for peasant children, helped set up 20 more in the surrounding area, and this activity fascinated him very much.

In 1871, he began to compile the “ABC” - a school manual for teaching children reading, writing and arithmetic.

The book opens alphabetically; each of the letters is illustrated by a picture: “A” - watermelon, “B” - barrel, “P” - fish.

The second part of "The ABC" is a series short stories of a moralizing nature. You all remember “The Parable of the Liar,” which tells the story of a boy who deceived the shepherds three times. When the herd he was protecting was actually attacked by wolves, cries for help turned out to be useless: no one believed the young liar.


History of the story

"Prisoner of the Caucasus"

Story The story “Prisoner of the Caucasus” was written for ABC, which the writer published in 1872.

1872

The writer made sure that in his “ABC”, as he said, everything was “beautiful, short, simple and, most importantly, clear.” At the heart of the story real case which happened to the writer himself during his service in the Caucasus.


History of the story

"Prisoner of the Caucasus"

IN mid-19th century centuries there was a heavy bloody war in the Caucasus. Tsar Nicholas I sent his troops to conquer the Caucasian lands. The mountain peoples who lived there stubbornly resisted the tsarist troops. On steep mountain roads, in forests and gorges, at river crossings, the mountaineers set up ambushes and took Russian soldiers and officers prisoner. Russian convoys moved from one fortress to another under heavy guard.

L.N. Tolstoy at that time was on military service in the Caucasian Army, participated in the hostilities of Russian troops.


History of the story

"Prisoner of the Caucasus"

Once, having traveled far from his detachment, Leo Tolstoy was almost captured. The writer was rescued from trouble by his companion and friend, the Chechen Sado.

Shortly before this incident, Sado bought a young horse, which turned out to be a good racer. L.N. Tolstoy praised the horse, and Sado, according to Caucasian custom, gave him his horse. And so, when the Chechens began to overtake his friends, Tolstoy could easily get away from them on a fast horse, but for nothing in the world would he agree to abandon his comrade in trouble.


History of the story

"Prisoner of the Caucasus"

Sado had a gun, but it turned out to be unloaded. However, he menacingly aimed his gun at the approaching pursuers and shouted at them. The mountaineers wanted to take Sado and the Russian officer prisoner alive and therefore did not shoot.

They were especially angry at their fellow tribesman Sado, who was friends with the Russians. Pursued by the Chechens, Tolstoy and Sado approached the Grozny fortress; a sentry saw the chase and raised the alarm. Mounted Cossacks immediately appeared from the fortress. The Chechens turned back and rushed off into the mountains.


History of the story

"Prisoner of the Caucasus"

Later, L.N. Tolstoy became acquainted with the “Memoirs of a Caucasian Officer” published in the magazine “Russkiy Vestnik”, the author of which was Colonel of the Cuirassier Regiment Fyodor Fedorovich Tornau. The author reports under what circumstances he was captured by the mountaineers, how the local girl Aslan Koz, who fell in love with him, tried to help him, why his first escape attempt was unsuccessful and how he managed to free himself from captivity.

Tolstoy used these memories for his story

"Prisoner of the Caucasus."


History of the story

"Prisoner of the Caucasus"

After reading the title, guess what the story will be about?

The plot of the story is simple:

two Russian officers are captured, one was able to escape, the other was not able to .


History of the story

"Prisoner of the Caucasus"

Who is the Caucasian prisoner?

Caucasian prisoner -

a person held captive by Caucasians in the Caucasus.

Guess why L.N. Tolstoy gives the title to the story “Prisoner of the Caucasus”, and not “prisoners”?

Two officers are captured, but only one of them was truly “captured.” Another officer managed to free himself, and it is he who is the hero of Tolstoy’s story.


Plot and composition of the story

"Prisoner of the Caucasus"

Working with terms

a short narrative work that tells about one or more episodes in a person's life.

Story - This…

Episode - This…

depiction of a single event with a beginning and an end.

chain of events occurring in a work.

Plot - This…

Composition - This…

construction of a work, arrangement of parts and episodes in a meaningful sequence.

List the elements of the composition.

Exposition.

Development of action.

Climax.

Denouement.


Story composition

"Prisoner of the Caucasus"

The action takes place in the 19th century in the Caucasus. There is a war between the Russians and the highlanders. Initial introduction to the characters

Exposure:

Tie:

Development of action:

Climax:

Interchange:

Epilogue:

Fill out the table after reading the work.


I wish you to read the story carefully

L.N. Tolstoy “Prisoner of the Caucasus”

in Wikisource

"Prisoner of the Caucasus"- a story (sometimes called a story) by Leo Tolstoy, telling about a Russian officer captured by the highlanders. Written for ABC, first published in 1872 in the magazine Zarya. One of the most popular works writer, reprinted many times and included in the school curriculum.

The title of the story is a reference to the title of Pushkin's poem "Prisoner of the Caucasus".

Story

The plot of the story is partly based on a real event that happened to Tolstoy during his service in the Caucasus in the 1850s. On June 23, 1853, he wrote in his diary: “I almost got captured, but in this case I behaved well, although too sensitive.” According to the memoirs of S. A. Bers, the writer’s brother-in-law,

The peaceful Chechen Sado, with whom L. N. was traveling, was his great friend. And not long before they exchanged horses. Sado bought a young horse. Having tested it, he gave it to his friend L. N-chu, and he himself moved to his pacer, who, as you know, does not know how to gallop. It was in this form that the Chechens overtook them. L.N-ch, having the opportunity to gallop away on his friend’s frisky horse, did not leave him. Sado, like all mountaineers, never parted with his gun, but, unfortunately, it was not loaded. Nevertheless, he aimed it at his pursuers and, threatening, shouted at them. Judging by further actions pursuing, they intended to capture both, especially Sado, for revenge, and therefore did not shoot. This circumstance saved them. They managed to approach Grozny, where a sharp-eyed sentry noticed the pursuit from afar and raised the alarm. The Cossacks who came to meet them forced the Chechens to stop the pursuit.

Tolstoy's daughter talks about in this case as follows:

Tolstoy and his friend Sado accompanied the convoy to the Grozny fortress. The convoy walked slowly, stopped, Tolstoy was bored. He and four other horsemen accompanying the convoy decided to overtake it and ride forward. The road went through a gorge; the mountaineers could attack at any moment from above, from the mountain, or unexpectedly from behind cliffs and rock ledges. Three drove along the bottom of the gorge, and two - Tolstoy and Sado - along the top of the ridge. Before they had time to reach the ridge of the mountain, they saw Chechens rushing towards them. Tolstoy shouted to his comrades about the danger, and he, together with Sado, rushed forward to the fortress with all his might. Fortunately, the Chechens did not shoot; they wanted to capture Sado alive. The horses were playful and managed to gallop away. The young officer was injured; the horse killed under him crushed him and he could not free himself from under it. The Chechens galloping past hacked him half to death with swords, and when the Russians picked him up, it was already too late, he died in terrible agony.

While actively compiling The ABC, Tolstoy wrote a story about a Caucasian prisoner. Sending the story to N. N. Strakhov in March 1872, Tolstoy noted:

The story “Prisoner of the Caucasus” was published in the magazine “Zarya” (1872, No. 2). It was included in the “Fourth Russian Reading Book,” published on November 1, 1872.

Tolstoy himself highly appreciated his story and mentioned it in his treatise “What is Art? " in the following context:

At the same time, he defines the “second kind” of good art there as “art that conveys the simplest everyday feelings, those that are accessible to all people of all ages.” peace - art worldwide."

Commenting on this treatise, the philosopher Lev Shestov notes that “...he actually perfectly understands that his “Caucasian Prisoner” or “God knows the truth, but will not soon tell” (only these two stories of all that he has written, belongs to he to good art) - will not have for readers the meaning that not only his great novels have - but even “The Death of Ivan Ilyich.”

Plot

The action takes place during the Caucasian War.

Officer Zhilin serves in the Caucasus. His mother sends a letter asking him to visit her, and Zhilin leaves the fortress along with the convoy. On the way, he overtakes the convoy and comes across several mounted “Tatars” (Muslim mountaineers), who shoot his horse and take him prisoner. Zhilin is brought to a mountain village, where he is sold to Abdul-Murat. The same owner turns out to have Zhilin’s colleague Kostylin, who was also caught by the Tatars. Abdul forces the officers to write letters home so that they can be ransomed. Zhilin indicates the wrong address on the letter, realizing that his mother still cannot collect the required amount.

Zhilin and Kostylin live in a barn; during the day they put pads on their feet. Zhilin makes dolls, attracting local children and, above all, Abdul’s 13-year-old daughter, Dina. While walking around the village and its surroundings, Zhilin wonders in which direction he can run back to the Russian fortress. At night he digs in the barn. Dina sometimes brings him flatbreads or pieces of lamb.

When Zhilin notices that the inhabitants of the village are alarmed because of the death of one of his fellow villagers in a battle with the Russians, he decides to escape. He and Kostylin crawl into a tunnel at night and try to get to the forest, and from there to the fortress. However, due to the slowness of the corpulent Kostylin, they do not have time to get there; the Tatars notice them and bring them back. Now they are put in a pit and the pads are not removed at night. Dina sometimes continues to bring food to Zilina.

Realizing that the mountaineers are afraid of the arrival of the Russians and could kill the prisoners, Zhilin one day, at nightfall, asks Dina to bring him a long stick, with the help of which he climbs out of the hole (the sick and soggy Kostylin remains behind). He tries to knock the lock off the blocks, but cannot do this, including with the help of Dina. Having made his way through the forest, at dawn Zhilin goes to the location of the Russian troops. Kostylin is subsequently redeemed from captivity.

Reviews

“Prisoner of the Caucasus” is written in a completely special, new language. Simplicity of presentation is put in the foreground. There is none extra words, not a single stylistic embellishment... You can’t help but be amazed at this incredible, unprecedented restraint, this ascetically strict execution of the task taken upon yourself to tell the people the events that are interesting to them “without further ado.” This is a feat that, perhaps, will not be possible for any of the other luminaries of our modern literature. The artistic simplicity of the story in “Prisoner of the Caucasus” is brought to its apogee. There is nowhere to go further, and before this majestic simplicity the most talented attempts of the same kind by Western writers completely disappear and fade into obscurity.
The theme “Russian among the Chechens” is the theme of Pushkin’s “Prisoner of the Caucasus”. Tolstoy took the same title, but told everything differently. His prisoner is a Russian officer from the poor nobles, a man who knows how to do everything with his own hands. He's almost not a gentleman. He is captured because another, noble officer, rode off with a gun, did not help him, and was also captured. Zhilin—that’s the prisoner’s name—understands why the highlanders don’t like Russians. The Chechens are strangers, but not hostile to him, and they respect his courage and ability to fix the watch. The prisoner is freed not by a woman who is in love with him, but by a girl who takes pity on him. He tries to save his comrade, he took him with him, but he was timid and lacking energy. Zhilin was dragging Kostylin on his shoulders, but was caught with him, and then ran away alone.

Tolstoy is proud of this story. This is wonderful prose - calm, there are no decorations in it and there is not even what is called psychological analysis. Human interests collide, and we sympathize with Zhilin - to a good person, and what we know about him is enough for us, but he himself doesn’t want to know much about himself.

Film adaptations

  • "Prisoner of the Caucasus" - a classic 1975 film adaptation; director Georgiy Kalatozishvili, in the role of Zhilin Yuri Nazarov
  • "Prisoner of the Caucasus" - a 1996 film in which the motives of the story are used, but the action is moved during Chechen war 1990s; director Sergei Bodrov Sr. , in the role of Zhilin Sergei Bodrov Jr.

Audio performances

There are several audio versions of the story:

Vladimir Makanin's story “Prisoner of the Caucasus” (1994) in its title contains a reference to several works of Russian classics called “Prisoner of the Caucasus”, including Tolstoy’s story. Also in Makanin’s novel “Asan” (2008), dedicated to the events of the Chechen War of the 1990s, the main character’s name is Alexander Sergeevich Zhilin.

Notes

Links

  • “Prisoner of the Caucasus” in the Collected Works of Leo Tolstoy in 22 volumes (“Russian Virtual Library”)

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