The writer and thinker Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky touches on the problem of mercy in his work, the question of the relationship between a person’s appearance and his inner world.
The author recalls a childhood story when, as a boy, he was afraid of wolves and ran up to a stern-looking serf. Marey, in turn, began to reassure him, and this unexpected sympathy seemed warm and friendly. But he considered serfs to be rude and very ignorant.
According to Dostoevsky, it is impossible to judge a person unambiguously, because even a drunken man screaming a zealous song can in reality turn out to be a kind person capable of compassion. It seems to me that this problem is always relevant: you should not form an opinion about a stranger based on his appearance. A menacing-looking person may end up being the sweetest person, and a girl with an angelic face may be capable of cunning and other vices.
As proof of this judgment, one can cite the story “The Fate of a Man” by M.A. Sholokhov.
Andrei Sokolov faced many trials: he went through war, captivity, lost his entire family and, it would seem, his heart should harden. However, he is able to give happiness to another person, which confirms his attitude towards the street child. By calling himself his father, he gave the child hope for a bright future.
An example can be given from personal experience. At camp we had a gloomy counselor who seemed withdrawn and angry. However, the first impression was wrong: the adult turned out to be cheerful and cheerful. At heart he remained a mischievous boy who interacted with children as peers.
Thus, F.M. Dostoevsky is absolutely right when he asserts that one cannot judge a person by his appearance. The main thing is the inner world, which is expressed in deeds and actions.
Updated: 2017-02-22
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- Is a person's appearance a reflection of his inner world? According to the text by F.M. Dostoevsky “The Peasant Marey” (“I was then only nine years old...”)
taken from besieged Leningrad to the forested northern region. (2) I lived in orphanage , and then my mother came and took me away. (3) Life was difficult for us then. (4) Mom arrived sick and went to the service through force. (5) But I had to somehow hold on and live. (6) Until I had stone calluses, I dug in the garden, chopped wood, carried water from the river. (7) And in the summer almost every day he went to the forest - to pick berries and mushrooms. (8) And he walked not cheerfully, not for a walk, but as if going to work, because he knew: if you come back empty, there will be nothing to eat. (9) Sometimes mother was not home for weeks. (Yu) She served in the district executive committee, and from there all employees were often sent to collective farms to conduct sowing and harvesting campaigns. (11) I was left in charge alone. (12) I lit the stove myself, cooked food, and cleaned up our hut. (13) But usually the mother returned in the evening. (14) Having walked around several villages, she was so tired that she could not immediately climb onto the porch, she sat down on the steps and rested, hanging her head in a dusty, faded scarf on her chest. (15) One day she returned especially late. (16) I took the food out of the cold oven and put it on the table. (17) Empty cabbage soup was cooked from nettles. (18) Without taking off her scarf, the mother sank onto the bench and, hunched over and cowering, began to greedily eat straight from the cast iron pot. (19) I couldn’t look at her. (20) My throat became stuffy and hot. (21) I knew why my mother was so hungry. (22) In the villages, from people who, during this difficult time, also did not have enough food, she did not dare to take even a piece of bread, although she was called by the formidable name of the representative of the executive committee. (23) In the entryway I had potato cakes stored for tomorrow. " (24) I rushed after them to give them to their mother. (25) I took the clay bowl off the shelf and looked in. (26) There weren’t many flatbreads - about five. (27) But they smelled, they smelled strongly of oil and burnt flour, and this smell made me dizzy. (28) I was hungry too (29) And I was a boy - eleven years old (30) I probably wouldn’t have given away the cakes if I could have eaten them then. I couldn’t: my heart was breaking into pieces, and there were tears in my throat... (32) And soon I went hunting (33) An old man I knew allowed me to take his rifle and filled it with a few cartridges (34) The hunting hut was set up. in a winter field not far from the birch forest. (35) The sun rose, and the rays hit the tops of the birches and broke into copper hot splashes (36) Then these splashes began to descend, they showered the lower branches, trunks, and bushes. ran across the grass, and immediately it lit up with a white arrow-shaped fire - it was the dew that sparkled (38) The fabulous, changeable light transformed everything around. (39) The birch tree seemed to be on fire and could not burn out in the motionless flame. (40) Tiny rainbows rose and fell in the grass. (41) That’s when the black grouse appeared. (42) No. (43) These were not black grouse... (44) Firebirds, like those I dreamed of in childhood, suddenly descended to the ground. (45) They seemed to be bathed in this flame, and quick lights flashed and went out on their twisted, blue-tinged feathers. (46) But I didn’t finish watching the fairy tale. (47) I remembered why I came here. (48) And immediately a dirty, heavy shadow rolled over. (49) There were no miracles. (50) In front of me is a wet oat field and on it are meaty roosters, knocking against each other. (51) They must be killed. (52) The more, the better. (53) My fairy tale has left me, but only in fairy tales does a hunter lower his gun when he hears the voice of a bear: “Have pity on my little children...”
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In the winter of 1921 I lived in Odessa... I then worked as a secretary in the newspaper "Seaman". In general, many young writers worked there, including Kataev, Bagritsky, Babel, Olesha and Ilf. Of the old, experienced writers, only Andrei Sobol often came to our editorial office - a sweet, always excited, restless person. One day Sobol brought his story to “Sailor”, torn, confused, although interesting in topic and, of course, talented. Everyone read this story and were embarrassed: it was impossible to print it in such a careless manner. No one dared to offer Sobol to correct him. In this regard, Sobol was inexorable - and not so much because of the author’s pride (Sobol had almost none of that), but because of nervousness: he could not return to his written works and lost interest in them. We sat and thought: what to do? Our proofreader Blagov also sat with us, former director the most widespread newspaper in Russia " Russian word", right hand the famous publisher Sytin... - That's it, - said Blagov. - This is a talented thing. It is impossible for it to disappear... Give me the manuscript... I swear on my honor, I will not change a word in it. - What will you do? - But you'll see. Blagov finished work on the manuscript only in the morning... I read the story and was speechless. It was transparent, flowing prose. Everything became convex and clear. Not a shadow remained of the former crumpledness and verbal confusion... At the same time, not a single word was really thrown out or added. - This is a miracle! - I exclaimed. - How did you do that? - Yes, I just put the punctuation marks correctly. I placed the dots especially carefully. And paragraphs. This is a great thing, my dear. Pushkin also spoke about punctuation marks. They exist to highlight thought, to bring words into correct ratio and give the phrase ease and correct sound. Punctuation marks are like musical notations. They hold the text firmly and prevent it from falling apart. ...After this I was finally convinced of the amazing power with which the point placed in in the right place and on time.
Essays on the Russian language Unified State Examination - V.I. Amlinsky URGENTLY, help me write an essay on this textBut about the necessity of labor, about its beauty, miraculous power and magical properties was never said. Idlers talk about work: normal people they do it. Diligently, clearly, accurately and modestly. After all, working without shouting about your own labor zeal is as natural as eating without slurping.
Sometimes I remember with amazing clarity the evenings of my early childhood. Our large family, even at that time - two children, mother, grandmother, aunt, her daughter and someone else - lived on father's rations and on his more than modest commander's salary in a cramped house on Pokrovskaya Gora, where no one had my room and no one except me slept alone. Was at the house
(1) I was then only nine years old. (2) Once in the forest, among
deep silence, I clearly and distinctly imagined a cry: “The wolf is running!”
(3) I screamed and, beside myself with fright, ran out into the clearing, straight into the man plowing the ground.
(4) It was Marey - our serf, about fifty years old, stocky, rather
tall, with strong gray streaks in his dark brown beard. (5) I knew him a little, but before that it had almost never happened to me to talk to him. (6) As a child, I had little contact with serfs: these strangers, with rough faces and gnarled hands, seemed to me dangerous, robber people. (7) Marey stopped the filly when he heard my frightened voice, and when I ran up and grabbed his plow with one hand and his sleeve with the other, he saw my fear.
− (8) The wolf is running! – I shouted, gasping for breath.
(9) He raised his head and involuntarily looked around, for a moment almost
believing me.
− (10) What are you, what kind of wolf, I imagined: see! (11) What kind of wolf is there?
be! – he muttered, encouraging me. (12) But I was shaking all over and clung even tighter to his zipun and must have been very pale. (13) He looked with a worried smile, apparently afraid and worried about me.
− (14) Look, you’re scared, ah-ah! – he shook his head. – (15) That’s enough,
dear. (16) Look, boy, ah!
(17) He extended his hand and suddenly stroked my cheek.
− (18) That’s enough, well, Christ is with you, come to your senses.
(19) But I didn’t cross myself: the corners of my lips trembled, and it seems that
he was especially amazed. (20) And then Marey extended his thick, black-nailed, soil-stained finger and quietly touched my jumping lips.
- (21) Look, - he smiled at me with some kind of maternal and long smile
smile, - Lord, what is this, look, ah, ah!
(22) I finally realized that there was no wolf and that the cry about the wolf was dying for me -
shied.
“(23) Well, I’ll go,” I said, looking at him questioningly and timidly.
- (24) Well, go ahead, and I’ll take a look after you. (25) I won’t take you to the wolf
I'll give it to you! - he added, still smiling at me motherly. – (26) Well, Christ
with you,” and he crossed me with his hand and crossed himself.
(27) While I was walking, Marey still stood with his little filly and looked after me, nodding his head every time I looked back. (28) And even when I was far away and could no longer see his face, I felt that he was still smiling just as affectionately.
(29) I remembered all this at once now, twenty years later, here,
in hard labor in Siberia... (30) This gentle maternal smile of a serf
the man, his unexpected sympathy, shaking his head. (31) Of course, everyone would have encouraged the child, but in that solitary meeting something completely different happened. (32) And only God, perhaps, saw from above how deep and enlightened human feeling the heart of a rude, brutally ignorant man was filled with and what subtle tenderness was hidden in him.
(33) And when here, at hard labor, I got off the bunk and looked around,
I suddenly felt that I could look at these unfortunate convicts with a completely different look and that suddenly all fear and all hatred in my heart disappeared. (34) I walked, peering into the faces I met. (35) This shaved and defamed man, with brands on his face, intoxicated, shouting his zealous, hoarse song, maybe the same Marey. (36) After all, I cannot look into his heart.
(according to F.M. Dostoevsky*)
*Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky (1821–1881) – Russian writer,
thinker.
Composition.
Is it always possible to judge a person by his appearance and behavior? This question is asked by F.M. Dostoevsky.
Discussing this problem, the author recalls an episode from childhood when, as a little boy, he was frightened by a wolf in the forest and, running out into the field, met a man plowing. To describe this man, he uses epithets (“with rough faces and gnarled hands”) and vernacular (“hey, he was scared, ah-ah!”) in order to show the worker’s peasant origins. As the text progresses, Dostoevsky becomes convinced that this man is not really what he seemed at first glance, and to show this, he uses the expression “the gentle motherly smile of a serf man,” as well as the contrast: “... a brutally ignorant man and what subtle tenderness was hidden in him.”
The author's position is as follows: you cannot judge a person by assessing only his external qualities. In order to understand what kind of person is in front of you, you need to be able to look into his heart.
I agree with the author: you cannot know the essence of a person without communicating with him and without getting to know him better. Judging a person based on appearance is a big mistake.
There are many examples in Russian literature of how people were mistaken in judging a person without getting to know him internal qualities. We find something similar in Leo Tolstoy’s novel “War and Peace.” In the scene of the Battle of Borodino, where a completely non-military, absurd, outsider Pierre Bezukhov appears on the battlefield, he becomes the subject of ridicule, and the soldiers do not take him seriously. But when Pierre begins to participate in the common cause, fire shells, taking the battle seriously, the soldiers see in him the same sense of patriotism that they themselves are seized with, and they recognize him as their own: “Our master!”
Another example is Platonov’s story “Yushka”. Main character- a blacksmith's assistant, who was the subject of ridicule for all residents of the city. Those around him considered him worse than themselves only because he was poorly dressed and did not talk to anyone. Everyone considered themselves better than him, comparing only external qualities and not even realizing that Yushka was much more generous and kinder in soul than all these people. After his death, it turned out that all his life he had given all his money to support the orphan girl. Residents of the city felt the significance of Yushka only when he was gone.
So we can conclude that main mistake human - to judge others by external qualities. Often we make mistakes about a person without even knowing what he is like in his soul. (373)
Alexandra Khvatova, 11th grade, Karelia, Suoyarvi.
Attached files
Essay based on the text:
Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky is a Russian writer and thinker, in his work he touches on the problem of interconnection inner world and a person's appearance.
The author, in the first person, tells about a frightened boy who ran up to a serf, who in turn began to calm him down. He calls Marey's sympathy unexpected, since he believed that all serfs were rude and brutally ignorant people.
F.M. Dostoevsky believes that even a drunken man shouting his zealous, hoarse song can turn out to be a kind person who, despite his appearance, can sympathize with others.
I think this problem relevant, because you cannot judge a person by how he looks outwardly. It can turn out to be menacing and rude kindest person, and a girl who is sweet at first glance can have limitless cunning and harmfulness.
As evidence, one can cite the work of M.A. Sholokhov "The Fate of Man". The main character, who went through the war and was left without a family, seems to be no longer able to have empathy and others good qualities. But no! He was able to tell a stranger that he was his father, thereby making him happy.
As a personal example, I can cite a camp counselor. He was almost a “guy,” relatively mature and quite big man. At first impression it seemed that he was evil, but in reality this was not the case. He was cheerful and joyful, as if there was a a little boy who feels close to children as with his peers.
In conclusion, I want to say that you should not judge a person by his appearance, this is not the main thing, the main thing is who he is in his deeds and actions, during a conversation.
Text by Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky:
(1) I was then only nine years old. (2) Once in the forest, in the midst of deep silence, I clearly and distinctly thought I heard a cry: “The wolf is running!” (3) I screamed and, beside myself with fright, ran out into the clearing, straight into the man plowing the ground.
(4) It was Marey - our serf, about fifty years old, stocky, quite tall, with strong gray streaks in his dark brown beard. (5) I knew him a little, but before that it had almost never happened to me to talk to him. (6) As a child, I had little contact with serfs: these strangers, with rude faces and gnarled hands, seemed to me dangerous, robber people. (7) Marey stopped the filly when he heard my frightened voice, and when I ran up and grabbed his plow with one hand and his sleeve with the other, he saw my fear.
(8) The wolf is running! – I shouted, gasping for breath.
(9) He raised his head and involuntarily looked around, for a moment almost believing me.
(10) What are you, some kind of wolf, I imagined: look! (11) Why should there be a wolf here? – he muttered, encouraging me. (12) But I was shaking all over and clung even tighter to his zipun and must have been very pale. (13) He looked with a worried smile, apparently afraid and worried about me.
(14) Look, you’re scared, ah-ah! – he shook his head. – (15) That’s enough, dear. (16) Look, boy, ah!
(17) He extended his hand and suddenly stroked my cheek.
(18) That’s enough, well, Christ is with you, come to your senses.
(19) But I did not cross myself: the corners of my lips trembled, and it seems that this especially struck him. (20) And then Marey extended his thick, black-nailed, soil-stained finger and quietly touched my jumping lips. (21) Look, he smiled at me with some kind of maternal and long smile, Lord, what is this, look, ah, ah!
(22) I finally realized that there was no wolf and that I had imagined the cry about the wolf. (23) Well, I’ll go, I said, looking at him questioningly and timidly. (24) Well, go ahead, and I’ll take a look after you. (25) I won’t give you to the wolf! he added, still smiling at me motherly. - (26) Well, Christ is with you, and he crossed me with his hand and crossed himself himself.
(27) While I was walking, Marey still stood with his little filly and looked after me, nodding his head every time I looked back. (28) And even when I was far away and could no longer see his face, I felt that he was still smiling just as affectionately.
(29) I remembered all this at once now, twenty years later, here, in penal servitude in Siberia... (30) This gentle maternal smile of the serf man, his unexpected sympathy, shaking his head. (31) Of course, everyone would have encouraged the child, but in that solitary meeting something completely different happened. (32) And only God, perhaps, saw from above how deep and enlightened human feeling the heart of a rude, brutally ignorant man was filled with and what subtle tenderness was hidden in him.
(33) And when here, at the penal servitude, I got off the bunk and looked around, I suddenly felt that I could look at these unfortunate convicts with a completely different look and that suddenly all fear and all hatred in my heart disappeared. (34) I walked, peering into the faces I met. (35) This shaved and defamed man, with brands on his face, intoxicated, yelling his zealous, hoarse song, maybe the same Marey. (36) After all, I cannot look into his heart.
(according to F.M. Dostoevsky*)
*Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky (1821–1881) - Russian writer, thinker.
Why can't you judge a person by their appearance? It is this question that the Russian writer F.M. Dostoevsky answers.
Let's see how the author reveals the problem. F.M. Dostoevsky focuses on the story of how the outwardly unpleasant peasant Marey was able to calm and console a frightened boy. The author draws readers' attention to the fact that a person's appearance does not always coincide with his inner world, noting that even “strangers with rough faces” serfs can be beautiful in their souls.
Marey’s “motherly smile” and “unexpected sympathy” sincerely surprise the child. The boy realizes that in the heart of a “brutally ignorant” person lies a “subtle tenderness” that cannot be detected immediately. Telling the story of a serf peasant, F. M. Dostoevsky encourages readers to build relationships with people based on their actions and inner world, and not focus only on beauty.
The soul of an outwardly unattractive person is sometimes purer and richer than that of others. This idea is conveyed to readers by N. Zabolotsky in the poem “ Ugly girl" The poet notes the internal unspoiledness of the child:
No shadow of envy, no evil intent
This creature doesn't know yet.
Everything in the world is so immensely new to her,
Everything is so alive that for others is dead!
The girl differs from the others in her sincerity and honesty; the author draws attention to her spiritual beauty, which is capable of working miracles:
I want to believe that this flame is pure,
Which burns in its depths,
He will overcome all his pain alone
And will melt the heaviest stone!
So, N. Zabolotsky wants to convey the idea that you need to appreciate the rich and pure inner world of even an unattractive person, and not pay attention to empty beauty.
In turn, a nice person can turn out to be mean and dishonest. A striking example Such a person is the heroine of Leo Tolstoy’s epic novel “War and Peace,” Helen Kuragina. Her beauty, which drove many men crazy, turns out to be her only advantage. The heroine often deceives people dear to her and behaves inappropriately. Helen is even capable of betrayal. So, she is attractive only on the outside, there is no inner beauty, purity and honesty.
So, it is categorically impossible to judge a person by appearance, since the wealth of the inner world is most often not associated with beauty.
Updated: 2018-04-29
Attention!
Thank you for your attention.
If you notice an error or typo, highlight the text and click Ctrl+Enter.
By doing so, you will provide invaluable benefit to the project and other readers.