"Aglaya"
In the world, in that forest village where Aglaya was born and grew up, her name was Anna.
She lost her father and mother early. Once in the winter, smallpox went into the village, and then many of the dead were taken to the graveyard in the village beyond Svyat-Ozero. There were two coffins at once in the Skuratovs' hut. The girl did not experience either fear or pity, she only remembered forever that unlike anything else, alien and heavy spirit that emanated from them, and that winter freshness, the cold of the Lenten thaw, that the men who carried the coffins to the firewood let into the hut under windows.
On that side of the forest, villages are rare and small, their rough log yards stand in disarray: like loamy mounds, even closer to rivers and lakes. The people there are not too poor and observe their prosperity, their old way of life, even though they have been going to work for centuries, leaving women to plow unborn land, where it is free from forests, to mow grass in the forest, and in winter to thunder with a loom. Anna's heart lay in that life in her childhood: both the black hut and the burning torch in the light were dear to her.
Katerina, her sister, had been married for a long time. She ruled the house, first together with her husband, taken into the yard, and then, as he began to leave almost all year round, alone. Under her supervision, the girl grew evenly and quickly, never fell ill, did not complain about anything, she only thought about everything. If Katerina called out to her, asked what was the matter with her, she answered simply, saying that her neck was creaking and that she was listening to it. "Here! - she said, turning her head, her little white face, - do you hear? - "What are you thinking about?" "So. I don't know". As a child, she didn’t hang out with her peers, and she didn’t go anywhere - she only went wounds with her sister and that old village behind Svyat-Ozero, where on the churchyard, under the pines, pine crosses stick out and there is a log church covered with blackened wooden scales.
For the first time, they dressed her up in bast shoes and a motley sundress, bought a necklace and a yellow scarf.
Katerina grieved for her husband, wept; she wept over her childlessness. And, crying out tears, she made a vow to herself not to know her husband. When her husband came, she greeted him joyfully, talked well with him about household chores, carefully examined his shirts, mended what was necessary, bustled around the stove and was pleased when he liked something; but they slept separately, like strangers. And he left, - again she became boring and quiet. More and more often she left home, stayed in a nearby women's monastery, visited the elder Rodion, who was fleeing behind that monastery in a forest hut. She persistently learned to read, brought sacred books from the monastery and read them aloud, in an unusual voice, lowering her eyes, holding the book in both hands. And the girl stood near, listened, looking around the hut, which was always tidied up. Reveling in the sound of her voice, Katerina read about the saints, about the martyrs, who despised our dark, earthly things for the sake of the heavenly, who wanted to crucify their flesh with passions and lusts. Anna listened to the reading, like a song in a foreign language, with attention. But Katerina closed the book - and she never asked to read more: she was always incomprehensible.
By the age of thirteen, she had become remarkably thin, tall and strong. She was gentle, white, blue-eyed, and she loved simple, rough work. When summer came and Katerina's husband came, when the village went to mow, Anna went with hers and worked like an adult. Yes, summer work in that direction is scarce. And again the sisters were left alone, again returning to their even life, and again, having cleaned up with cattle, with a stove, Anna sat at sewing, at the camp, and Katerina read - about the seas, about deserts, about the city of Rome, about Byzantium, about miracles and the deeds of the early Christians. In the black forest hut, the words enchanting the ear sounded then: “In the country of Cappadocia, during the reign of the pious Byzantine emperor Leo the Great ... In the days of the patriarchate of St. torn to pieces by wild beasts on the stadiums, about the heavenly beauty of Barbara, beheaded by her fierce parent, about the relics kept by angels on Mount Sinai, about the warrior Eustathia, turned to the true god by the call of the most crucified, the sun shining among the horns of a deer, by him, Eustathius, on an animal catch persecuted, about the labors of the Sanctified Savva, who lived in the Valley of Fire, and about many, many, who spent their bitter days and nights by desert streams, in crypts and mountain kennels ... In adolescence, she saw herself in a dream in a long linen shirt and in an iron crown on the head. And Katerina said to her: "This is for you to die, sister, to an early death."
And in the fifteenth year she became quite like a girl, and the people marveled at her good looks: the golden-white color of her oblong face slightly played with a smoky blush; her eyebrows were thick, light blond, her eyes were blue; light, fine, - perhaps not too high, thin and long-armed - she quietly and well lifted her long eyelashes. The winter that year was especially severe. Forests and lakes were covered with snow, ice-holes were thickly covered with ice, it burned with a frosty wind and played in the morning dawns with two mirrored, in iridescent rings, suns. Before Christmas time, Katerina ate tyurya, oatmeal, while Anna ate only bread. “I want to post another prophetic dream,” she said to her sister. And on New Year's Eve she dreamed again: she saw an early frosty morning, a blinding icy sun had just rolled out from behind the snows, a sharp wind took her breath away; and into the wind, into the sun, across a white field, she flew on skis, chasing some marvelous ermine, but suddenly fell off somewhere into an abyss - and became blind, suffocated in a cloud of snow dust that rose from under the skis on the fall. .. It was impossible to understand anything in this dream, but Anna never once looked her sister in the eyes for the whole day of the New Year; the priests drove around the village, they also went to the Skuratovs - she hid behind a curtain under the curtains. That winter, not yet established in her thoughts, she was often bored, and Katerina said to her: “I have been calling to Father Rodion for a long time, he would take everything off you!”
She read to her that winter about Alexei the God-man and John Kuschnik, who died in poverty at the gates of their noble parents, she read about Simeon the Stylite, who rotted alive in a stone pillar. Anna asked her: “But why isn’t Father Rodion standing?” And she answered her that the exploits of holy people are different, that our passion-bearers mostly escaped through Kyiv caves, and then through dense forests or reached the kingdom of heaven in the form of naked, indecent fools. That winter, Anna also learned about Russian saints - about her spiritual ancestors: about Matthew the Perspicacious, who was granted to see only one dark and low in the world, to penetrate into the innermost filth of human hearts, to see the faces of underground devils and hear their unholy advice, about Mark The grave-digger, who devoted himself to burying the dead and, in constant closeness with Death, gained such power over her that she trembled his voices, about Isaac the Recluse, who dressed his body in the raw skin of a goat, forever attached to him, and indulged in crazy dances with demons, at night dragging him into galloping and wobbling to their loud cries, pipes, tympanums and harps ... “From him, Isaac, the holy fools went,” Katerina told her, “and how many of them there were later, you can’t count it! Father Rodion so bayed: they were not in any country, only the Lord visited us with them because of our great sins and by his great mercy. And she added that she heard in the monastery - a sad story about how Russia left Kiev for impenetrable forests and swamps, for its bast towns, under the cruel power of the Moscow princes, how it suffered from troubles, civil strife, from the ferocious Tatar hordes and from other Lord's punishments - from pestilence and famine, from conflagrations and heavenly signs. There were then, she said, so many people of God, suffering and foolish for Christ's sake, that in the churches from their squeak and cry it was not possible to hear divine singing. And a considerable number of them, she said, were ranked among the face of heaven: there is Simon, from the Volga forests, who wandered and hid the human eye through wild tracts in one tattered shirt, after which, living in the city, he was daily beaten by citizens for his indecency and died of wounds caused by beatings; there is Procopius, who took incessant torment in the city of Vyatka, at night he ran up to the bell towers and beat the bells often and with alarm, as if during a fiery ignition; there is Procopius, born in the Zyryansk region, among savage hunters, who walked all his life with three pokers in his hands and adored empty places, sad forest shores above Sukhona, where, sitting on a pebble, he prayed with tears for those sailing along it; there is Jacob the Blessed, who sailed in a grave bast log along the river Mete to the dark inhabitants of that poor area; there is John Vlasaty, from under Rostov the Great, whose hair was so luxuriant that all who saw him fell into fear; there is John of Vologda, called the Big Cap, small in stature, with a wrinkled face, all hung with crosses, until his death he did not take off his cap, like cast iron; there is Vasily Nagokhodets, who instead of clothes wore both in the winter cold and in the summer pitch only iron chains and a handkerchief in his hand. .. “Now, sister,” said Katerina, “they all stand before the Lord, rejoice in the host of his saints, while their incorruptible relics rest in cypress and silver reliquaries, in holy cathedrals, next to kings and saints!” - “But why didn’t Father Rodion play the fool?” Anna asked again. And Katerina answered that he followed in the footsteps of those who imitated not Isaac, but Sergius of Radonezh, in the footsteps of the forest monasteries. Father Rodion, she said, first saved himself in one ancient and glorious desert, based on those very places where, in the middle of a dense forest, in the hollow of a three-century-old oak, the once great saint lived; there he carried out strict obedience and took monastic vows, for his repentant tears and heartlessness to the flesh of the contemplation of the queen of heaven herself, withstood the vow of seven years of seclusion and seven years of silence, but he was not satisfied with this either, left the monastery and came - already many, many years ago , - in our forests, put on bast bast shoes, a white hoodie made of sackcloth, a black epitrachelion with an eight-pointed cross on it, with the image of the skull and bones of Adam, eats only water and unboiled milkweed, blocked the window of his hut with an icon, sleeps in a coffin, under an inextinguishable lamp , and in the midnight hours, howling beasts, crowds of furious dead and devils are constantly besieging it ...
Fifteen years old, at the very time when a girl should become a bride, Anna left the world.
Spring that year came early and hot. The berries ripened in the forests innumerable, the grasses were waist-deep, and from the beginning of Petrovka they already went to mow them. Anna worked with pleasure, sunbathed in the sun, among herbs and flowers; a darker blush flared on her face, a handkerchief shifted over her forehead hid the warm look of her eyes. But then one day, on the mowing, a large shiny snake with an emerald head wrapped itself around the circle of her bare feet. Seizing the snake with her long and narrow hand, tearing off its icy and slippery tourniquet, Anna threw it far away and did not even raise her face, but was very frightened, she became whiter than the canvas. And Catherine said to her; “This is for you, sister, the third instruction; be afraid of the Serpent of the Tempter, a dangerous time is coming to you! And whether from fright, or from these words, only a week after that did not leave the color of death from Anna's face. And on Peter's day, unexpectedly, unexpectedly, she asked to go to the monastery to the vigil - and she went and spent the night there, and in the morning she was honored to stand in the crowd at the threshold of the hermit. And he showed her great mercy: he looked out of the whole crowd and beckoned her to him. And she left him, bowing her head low, covering half her face with a handkerchief, shifting it to the fire of her hot cheeks and in confusion of feelings not seeing the ground under her: he called her a chosen vessel, a sacrifice to the Lord, lit two wax candles and took one for himself , he gave her another and stood for a long time, praying in front of the image, and then ordered her to venerate that image - and blessed her to be in the monastery in obedience in a short time. “My happiness, unwise sacrifice! he told her. - Be not an earthly bride, but a heavenly one! I know, I know, your sister prepared you. I, a sinner, will also sweat about that.
In the monastery, in monasticism, renounced from the world and from her will for the sake of her spiritual successor, Anna, named Aglaya during her tonsure, stayed for thirty-three months. At the end of the thirty-third, she passed away.
How she lived there, how she was saved, no one knows in full about that, due to the prescription of time. But still something remained in the people's memory. One day, praying women went from different and distant lands to that forest region where Anna was born. They met at the river through which they had to cross, a habitual wanderer in holy places, in appearance unprepossessing, disheveled, even, just to say, wonderful, his eyes were blindfolded under the old master's bowler hat. They began to ask him about the ways, about the roads to the monastery, about Rodion himself and about Anna. In response, he first spoke to them about himself: I, they say, are sisters, and I myself know not God knows what, but I can partly talk with you, for I am returning precisely from those localities; you, he said, it’s probably terrifying with me - and I’m not surprised at this, many are not honey with me: whether he meets on foot, whether on horseback, he sees - a wanderer is walking through the forest, hobbles alone with a white handkerchief over his eyes, and even sings psalms - understandable, dumbfounded; because of my sins, my eyes are greedy and quick, my eyesight is so rare and piercing that even at night I see like a cat, being generally unreasonably sighted, due to the fact that I do not go with people, but on the sidelines; Well, so I decided to shorten my bodily vision a little ... Then he began to tell how much, according to his calculation, the pilgrims still had to go, what areas they had to go to, where to have overnight stays and rest, and what kind of monastery it was.
First, - he said, - the village on Svyat-Ozero will come, then the same village where Anna was born, and there you will see another lake, monastic, although shallow, but decent, and we will have to sail on this lake in a boat. And as soon as you land, the very monastery is at hand. It is clear that on the other side of the forest there is no end, and through the forest, as usual, monastic walls, church domes, cells, hospices look...
Then he spoke for a long time about the life of Rodion, about Anna's childhood and adolescence, at the end he spoke about her stay in the monastery:
Her stay was, oh, short! - he said, - It's a pity, you say, such beauty and youth? We, the stupid ones, understandably, it's a pity. Yes, apparently, Father Rodion knew well what he was doing. After all, he was like that with everyone - and affectionate, and meek, and joyful, and persistent to the point of mercilessness, especially with Aglaya. Butterflies, I was at the place of her rest... A long grave, beautiful, all overgrown with grass, green... And I won’t hide it, I won’t hide it: it was there, on the grave, I thought of blindfolding myself, it was Aglaya’s example that thought me up: after all, you need to know, during her entire stay in the monastery she did not raise her eyes for a single hour - as she moved the veil over them, she remained, and she was so stingy, so evasive in her speech that even Father Rodion himself marveled at her. But, I suppose, it was not easy for her to lift such a feat - to part with the earth, with a human face forever! And she carried the hardest work in the monastery, and stood idle at night in prayer, But then, they say, her father Rodion loved her! He distinguished her from everyone, daily allowed her into his hut, had long conversations with her about the future glory of the monastery, even revealed his visions to her - understandably, with a strict commandment of silence. Well, here it burned down, like a candle, in the shortest possible time ... Are you sighing again, sorry? I agree: sad! But I’ll tell you much more: for her great humility, for her neglect of the earthly world, for her silence and overwhelming labor, he did something unheard of: at the end of the third year of her feat, he deceived her, and then, through prayer and holy reflection, called her to him. in a single terrible hour - and ordered to accept death. Yes, so directly and said to her: “My happiness, your time has come! Remain in my memory as beautiful as you are standing in front of me at this hour: go to the Lord! And what do you think? A day later, she passed away. Fell down, blazed with fire - and ended. True, he consoled her - he told her before his death that, since only a little of his secret conversations she could not hide in the first days of obedience, only her mouth would decay. He granted silver for her funeral, copper for distribution at her burial, a hammer of candles for a magpie on her, a yellow ruble candle for her coffin, and the coffin itself - round, oak, hollowed out. And with his blessing, they put her, thin and with a superbly long sprout, in that coffin with her hair loose, in two shroud shirts, in a white cassock, girded with a black hem, and over it - in a black mantle with white crosses; a green velvet cap embroidered with gold was put on the head, a kamilavka on the cap, after which they tied it with a blue shawl with tassels, and leather beads were put into the handles. .. Removed, in a word, where as good! And yet, butterflies, there is a tricky, demonic rumor that she didn’t want to die, oh, how she still didn’t want to! Departing in such youth and in such beauty, they say, she said goodbye to everyone in tears, she said loudly to everyone: “Forgive me!” In the end, she closed her eyes and said separately: “And you, mother earth, have sinned seven in soul and body - will you forgive me?” And those words are terrible: bowing down to the ground, they were read in a penitential prayer in ancient Rus' during the evening under the Trinity, under the pagan mermaid day.
See also Bunin Ivan - Prose (stories, poems, novels ...):
Alexey Alekseich
The absurd, implausible news: Alexey Alekseich is dead! The most ridiculous...
Alupka
The sun has just disappeared, it is still light, but in the hot, fading air, ...
LITERARY INSTITUTE them. A.M. GORKY
A.V. Kovalevich.
Coursework on theoretical stylistics.
Scientific adviser -
Papyan Yu.M.
Moscow
2010
- Stylistic analysis of I. Bunin's story "Aglaya".
I. Bunin's story "Aglaya", written by him in 1916, was, according to numerous testimonies of his contemporaries, especially loved by the writer himself.
The story begins almost in an everyday way: “In the world, in that forest village where Aglaya was born and grew up, her name was Anna” and tells the story of a village girl who grew up in a remote forest area and was raised by her older sister.
In the first half of the story, a description of the life and appearance of the main character, Aglaya-Anna, is given. As a result of the analysis of these descriptions, the difference immediately becomes visible: the description of the life where the sisters lived is rather sparingly, although quite sufficient for perception; the description of Anna's appearance is given in great detail, but, at first glance, it is contradictory and a little strange:
“By the age of thirteen, she became remarkably thin, tall and strong. She was gentle, white, blue-eyed, and she loved simple, rough work ... And at the age of fifteen she became just like a girl, and the people marveled at her good looks: the golden-white color of her oblong face slightly played with a smoky blush; her eyebrows were thick, light blond, her eyes were blue; light, well-groomed, - except perhaps too high, thin and long-armed - she quietly and well lifted her long eyelashes.
Bunin makes special emphasis in Anna's appearance on her "longevity", and in everything - height, hands, eyelashes. It is interesting that in another story by I. Bunin "Light Breath", written, like "Aglaya", in 1916, there is a direct explanation for this attention of the writer to the "longevity" of the heroine:
“- I’m in one of my dad’s books, - he has a lot of old, funny books, - I read what beauty a woman should have ... a gently playing blush, a thin figure, longer than an ordinary arm, - you know, longer than usual! .. "
Anna “was thin”, but strong, “she was gentle”, but “she loved rough work”, and against the background of these oppositions, the phrase “unless” used by I. Bunin no longer seems accidental, since further in Anna’s behavior the reader constantly sees some , not quite at first glance, understandable, duality, which can be attributed to Anna's behavior, as the fact that she, “listened to reading, like a song in a foreign language, with attention. But Katerina closed the book - and she never asked to read more ... " ; and, when "the priests were driving around the village, they also went to the Skuratovs, - she hid behind the curtain under the curtains" . Even in the monastery, Anna asked "unexpectedly." These contradictions in Anna's behavior and appearance, emphasized by the writer, most likely characterize her as a girl who lacks inner harmony and balance. Apparently, that is why she goes to the monastery at such a young age.
"In the world, in that forest village where Aglaya was born and grew up, her name was Anna." This is how Bunin's story "Aglaya" begins in hagiographic style, especially beloved by the author himself. It tells the story of a simple village girl brought up in the wilderness by her older sister.
And again the sisters were left alone, again returning to their even life, and again, having cleaned up with cattle, with a stove, Anna sat at sewing, at the camp, and Katerina read - about the seas, about deserts, about the city of Rome, about Byzantium, about In the black forest hut, the words enchanting the ear sounded then: “In the country of Cappadocia, in the reign of the pious Byzantine emperor Leo the Great ... In the days of the patriarchate of St. Joachim of Alexandria, in Ethiopia far from us ...” Anna found out about virgins and young men torn to pieces by wild beasts on the stadiums, about the heavenly beauty of Barbara, beheaded by her fierce parent, about the relics kept by angels on Mount Sinai, about the warrior Eustathia, addressed to the true God by the call of the Crucified Himself, who shone like a sun among the horns of a deer, to them, Eustathius, who was persecuted by an animal hunt, about the labors of Savva the Sanctified, who lived in the Valley of Fire, and about many, many, who spent their bitter days and nights by desert streams, in crypts and mountain kennels ... "
Under such an impression, the heroine of the story grew and changed. But the lives of the saints in Bunin's "Aglaya" are by no means just a detail of her biography, but the main component of the very fabric of the story. And this becomes clear from a comparison with the Chronicle of the Seraphim-Diveevo Monastery, compiled by Archimandrite Seraphim (Chichagov), later metropolitan and holy martyr. As we will see, this "Chronicle ..." is most directly related to Bunin's story.
The confessor of the older sister, Catherine, was the elder Rodion, about whom she told a lot to her youngest. “Father Rodion,” she said, “first saved himself in one ancient and glorious desert, based on those very places where, in the middle of a dense forest, in the hollow of a three-century-old oak, the great saint once lived; there he carried out strict obedience and took tonsure, was honored with his penitent tears and heartlessness to the flesh of the contemplation of the Queen of Heaven herself, withstood the vow of seven years of seclusion and seven years of silence, but he was not satisfied with this either, he left the monastery and came - many, many years ago - to our forests, put on bast shoes, white a hoodie made of sackcloth, a black epitrachelion with an eight-pointed cross on it, with the image of the skull and bones of Adam, eats only water and unboiled milkweed, blocked the window of his hut with an icon, sleeps in a coffin, under an inextinguishable lamp, and at midnight hours the howling animals besiege him incessantly, crowds of furious dead and devils..."
Ivan Alekseevich Bunin (1870–1953)
This narrative of Bunin reflected the characteristic, easily recognizable features of the deed of the Monk Seraphim of Sarov, who was glorified as a saint in 1903. This is the Sarov desert, and the appearance of the Mother of God, and the seclusion, silence, a solitary life in the forest, a white hoodie, bast shoes, feeding on dreams, a coffin in a cell, demonic obsessions. The celebration of the glorification of the great ascetic, in which the Royal family also took part, made a huge impression on the whole of baptized Russia. Bunin was no exception, always trying to penetrate the mystery of holiness.
In the end, the younger sister comes to the "old man Rodion", who lovingly received her. “My happiness, an unwise sacrifice!” he said to her. “Be not an earthly, but a heavenly bride! I know, I know, my sister has prepared you. The attitude of Father Rodion towards Aglaya is in many ways reminiscent of the attitude of the Monk Seraphim towards Elena Vasilievna Manturova. That "priest Seraphim" also spoke of a heavenly Bridegroom, and not an earthly one, and blessed me for monasticism. Elena Vasilievna, like Bunin's Aglaya, carried a special feat of silence, prayer, and was especially loved by the elder. Subsequently, the Monk Seraphim blessed Elena Vasilievna to die for her obedience. But, unlike Aglaya, her death was required for the sake of saving her brother, Mikhail Vasilyevich, who was seriously ill. The voluntary consent of Elena Vasilievna saved her brother's life ( see "Chronicle of the Seraphim-Diveevsky Monastery", M., 1996. S. 417–423 ).
The golden-white color of her oblong face slightly played with a thin blush; her eyebrows were thick, light blond, her eyes were blue; eyelashes..." - this is how Bunin describes his heroine. Aglaya at the same time resembles another novice of St. Seraphim, Maria Semyonovna Melyukova. Here is how the "Chronicle of the Seraphim-Diveevsky Monastery" tells about her: "Maria Semyonovna was tall and attractive in appearance; an oblong, white and fresh face, blue eyes, thick, light-brown eyebrows and the same hair" ( With. 269).
Aglaya "for all her stay in the monastery, she did not raise her eyes for a single hour - as she moved the veil over them, she remained." Maria Semyonovna in the "Chronicle ..." said about herself: "... after all, I don’t see anything and don’t know; Father Seraphim ordered me never to look at them, and I tie a scarf so that I can only see the road under my feet" ( With. 266).
It is narrated about Aglaya as follows: “But, they say, father Rodion also loved her! He distinguished her from everyone, daily allowed her into his hut, had long conversations with her about the future glory of the monastery, even revealed his visions to her - understandably, with a strict commandment of silence ... "About Maria Semyonovna in the Chronicle ..." it is said: "Father Seraphim conveyed to this his spiritual friend all the secrets concerning the future glory of the monastery, and even the revelations he received from the Queen of Heaven, with a strict commandment of silence" ( With. 266).
Elder Rodion consoled Aglaya - "he told her before his death that, since only a few of his secret conversations she could not hide in the first days of obedience, only her mouth would decay." The Monk Seraphim said this: “For some reason Mary was silent, and only for joy, loving the monastery, she transgressed my commandment and told a little, but nevertheless, when her relics are opened in the future, only her lips will smolder!” ( "Chronicle…" C. 425).
When Aglaya died for her obedience, Father Rodion “granted silver for her funeral, copper for distribution at her burial, a hammer of candles for a forty-mouth on her, a yellow ruble candle for her coffin and the coffin itself - round, oak, hollowed out. blessing, they put her, thin and with a superbly long sprout, in that coffin with her hair loose, in two shroud shirts, in a white cassock, girded with a black hem, and over it - in a black mantle with white crosses; they put a green one on her head, a velvet cap embroidered with gold, a kamilavochka on the cap, after which they tied it with a blue shawl with tassels, and leather beads were put into the handles ... "
Reverend Seraphim of Sarov
Compare how the Chronicle narrates about Maria Semyonovna: “Father Father Seraphim wished her to give her a coffin, oak, round, hollowed out ... In addition, Father Seraphim gave 25 rubles for funeral expenses and 25 rubles of copper in order to to dress all the sisters and lay sisters, whoever was at her burial, 3 kopecks each.He also gave two towels for the throne, a hammer of yellow candles for magpie, so that day and night would burn in the church, and a ruble yellow candle to the coffin and on funeral of white 20 kopeck candles from half a pood.Thus, with the blessing of Father Seraphim, they put Maria Semyonovna, schema-nun Marfa, in a coffin: in two scrolls (shirts), in a paper cassock, girded with a black woolen hem, in addition to this in a black schema with white crosses and a long mantle. They put a green velvet cap embroidered with gold on her head, over it the kamilavka of Father Seraphim, and finally tied it with a large dark blue dreaded shawl with tassels. In her hands she held a leather rosary ... She was buried with her hair flowing ... "( With. 267, 269). As can be seen from the comparison, the texts coincide almost verbatim. They also have many other similar details.
Pskov-Pechersk Icon of the Mother of God "Tenderness". 16th century Celebration May 21/June 3, June 23/July 6, August 26/September 8, October 7/20, on the 7th Week of Easter
Obviously, in the image of Aglaya Bunin combined the characteristic features of two novices of St. Seraphim of Sarov. The writer, as can be seen from the comparison, was well acquainted with the Chronicle of the Seraphim-Diveevo Monastery. It is noteworthy that Bunin's story was first published in the Chronicle magazine in 1916.
Buninskaya Aglaya seems to give rise to regret about her ruined youth. But we should not forget that a "devilish rumor" about her torments is told by a blindfolded wanderer. Here is how Bunin himself said about him: "And this one that the women met, how invented! In a bowler hat and blindfolded! After all, a demon! He saw too much! .."
It is surprising that Bunin, the finest and most demanding stylist, found it possible to borrow literal expressions from the Chronicle. In a similar way, in his poems - transcriptions of the Apocalypse - he only slightly changed the word order and rhythm of the original. Thus, the great writer testified not only to the spiritual, but also to the enormous aesthetic value of church literature, which his and our contemporaries sometimes look down on.
After all, Belinsky was right: "Genius is the highest reality in the consciousness of truth."
The need to love, the ability to love is a spiritual quality, given the above images, without which, Bunin himself, seems to be, and cannot imagine a Russian peasant woman. However, what happens to her if she is deprived not of these invaluable qualities, but, simply speaking, does not find exactly the person on whom she could pour out her love, sacrifice everything that she has for her ...
Wasn't Bunin painfully pondering these questions, creating his own, not quite ordinary in subject matter, story - "Aglaya". The girl, whose name the story is named, with all the closeness of her social status and natural features, to Natalya and Anisya, unlike them, is unusual in the richness of her inner world.
As Maxim Gorky admitted to Bunin: "The theme of Aglaya" is alien to me, but you wrote this thing, like an old master of an icon - amazingly clearly!
(Gorky readings. 1958-1959. - M., - 1961 - p. 88.).
Of course, in the very appearance of Aglaya there is something iconic, blessed, holy, i.e. alien to the proletarian writer. Although, this did not prevent assurances that Bunin was for him the first master in Russian literature. Gorky, of course, unacceptable "spiritual essence" of Aglaya, the predominance of this essence over the rest of the qualities of her personality ...
The human essence of this girl, all the originality of her nature, is distinguished by a complex contradictory combination in her of the most seemingly irreconcilable feelings and experiences.
First of all, these are the conditions of the external environment - they leave an indelible imprint on the whole appearance of the girl. But it is precisely with them that the spiritual inclinations of Aglaya, those with which she was born, come into conflict. Growing up in the wilderness, having lost her parents early, she is obviously doomed to a miserable existence - miserable, wild, completely cut off from the outside world. And you have to be a being, to the extreme, limited, incapable of development, so that in such conditions, humbly, until the end of your days, pull the slavish strap, in essence, knowing nothing about real life. And in natures like Aglaya, one way or another, the desire to know the world is manifested; in particular, the spiritual world, because her soul does not accept a gray, meaningless existence. The tragic doom of a young girl lies in the fact that her inner world is closely and strictly outlined by religion. From here comes the beginning of a feeling of detachment growing in her ... Maybe it will seem unexpected, however, this detachment of Aglaya, by association, evokes in her memory the image of the heroine of Clean Monday, so far from her. Or rather, her apathy. Apathy in everything, and in communication with a man who loves her, and to all kinds of secular metropolitan entertainment. It seems that from everything and everyone, she is mortally tired. Revive it, only Moscow churches and monasteries. And this spirit of ancient monastic life delights her so much that she treats with obvious disdain not only the aristocratic splendor surrounding her, but even her lover. Something similar happens to Aglaya's sister, Katerina.
“Reveling in the sounds of her voice,” the author writes, “Katerina read about the saints, about the martyrs, our dark earthly things, who despised for the sake of the heavenly
crucify your flesh with passions and lusts”, True, the heroine of “Pure
Monday”, leaving the world seems somewhat romantic, as a kind of outlet from everything that is boring, but Katerina is already full of fanaticism. As for Aglaya, even in thoughts about the saints, she does not leave her at all, the same apathy. “Anna (Aglaya) listened to the reading, like a song in a foreign language, with attention. But Katerina closed the book - she never asked to read more: she was always incomprehensible.
Apparently, about leaving for a monastery, as about something inevitable, she does not consider it necessary to repeat herself. And, probably, in response to the question: why does she need a monastery, she could not answer anything definite. So it is necessary, that's all ... “But why is everything done in the world? - the enlightened heroine of the same "Clean Monday" argues. “Do we understand anything in our actions?” Subconsciously, probably, Aglaya had the same answer...
And yet... The author briefly and succinctly describes the growing up of his heroine, going, as it were, in two dimensions. On the one hand, she matures outwardly: she turns into a beauty, in her own way enjoying the short time of her girlhood; while loving even his rough work. Perhaps, living in a different environment, she would have found her simple happiness. But... next to her sister, she is drawn deeper and deeper into the whirlpool of prayer, it enslaves her consciousness. And there is nothing and no one around that one could even pay attention to. Nearby is only Katerina with her gloomy books and endless reading; with the interpretation of Aglaya's dreams foreshadowing her early death...
Without going into psychological details, Bunin, by describing the very atmosphere and the development of the plot, brings his heroine to a logical conclusion: Anna takes the tonsure and becomes the nun Aglaya.
At the same time, the question inevitably arises: did she find in monasticism that, the main thing, that she was unconsciously looking for in this life. After all, the same Turgenev's Lisa Kalitina, having experienced "sinful" love for a married man, goes to the monastery with a clearly expressed desire: to pray! Pray for the sins of your own and those of your neighbors. In addition, without a loved one, her world is empty and lonely.
But with Aglaya, not everything is so clear: her early, sudden
death does not at all fit with long-suffering and prayerful deeds. After all, Aglaya dies, being young and beautiful ... The girl, almost a child, goes to the nun, and soon dies ... Apparently, it is not her destiny to find her place in this world. And whether the bored secular beauty from "Clean Monday" found herself in monasticism remains a mystery ... "... it is useless to prolong and increase our torment ..." - she writes, saying goodbye to her friend forever. And besides the mysterious and incomprehensible doom in these words, it is difficult to understand anything, except that the life she renounces is painful for her ...
Bunin's writer's gaze did not escape the dark negative beginning that reigns in the life of the Russian village, in the characters of its inhabitants. Shining through this beginning in his work, Ivan Alekseevich finds himself under the furious fire of liberal criticism, and, in the end, receives the label of a bourgeois writer. And how could he, a first-class connoisseur of the Russian countryside, not reflect in his work those completely different female “individuals” that grew out of the thick of the people and embodied by him in typical, sometimes simply sinister images. Suffice it to recall the Young, from the dark soul, which etched
all those spiritual qualities that distinguish Natalya, Anisya, Katerina, and finally, Aglaya.
And how many of them are there - alien to selfless love and humility! Generously endowed with cunning, resourcefulness, bestial instinct
self-preservation! .. Above, it was already said that the impoverished peasant woman, Anisya from the story - “Merry Yard”, in spite of everything, managed to keep love and compassion in her soul. Does Nastasya Semyonovna know anything about love and compassion from the story - “The Good Life”? After all, she so skillfully and diligently avoids all sorts of trials and calamities; so refined in an effort to rid herself of everything that inevitably falls to the lot of a simple peasant woman - poverty, exhausting hard work, drunkenness and beatings of her husband. Due to its nature; thanks to predetermined goals, she came to a good life. True, good, only in her understanding, that is, financially secure, without exhausting worries; when life is content mainly with the stomach, the body. But what about the soul? How is she alive, not loving anyone, not grieving about anything. After all, even the fate of the only, who knows where disappeared son, she is absolutely indifferent!
Indeed, what a calm, what a good, and ... terrible in its egoistic senselessness, the life of this very Nastasya Semyonovna! And her soul is truly dark, black!
The characteristic feature of women from the people is in no way disputed. And, reflecting this feature in his work, Bunin revealed his unique knowledge of the darkest depths of peasant life and peasant characters. The very element of this life, not only its good and evil, but sometimes even wild beginnings; managed to reflect precisely the extremes that reign among the common people. These extremes are also reflected in female images.
Here, for example, Alyonka from the story - "Mitya's love." Let's remember how the dreamy Mitya, who has not yet crossed the line to the ordinary - rude male sensuality, to the "everyday" relationship with a woman; how staggering and devastating is his cold cynicism, outwardly a clean, prudent peasant woman, somewhat reminiscent of his beloved who left him. It is stunning how frankly she seeks benefits from her hasty love and business affair with a young master ... And, as they say, no lyrics for you ...
Alyonka is another, incomprehensibly stunning type of rationally mundane and soulless peasantry.
But the appearance of Lyubka in the story "Ignat" is even more ugly. Corrupted by the young owners of the estate, she seemingly completely transforms into a dumb, dehumanized creature. Indeed, from her shameful craft, she even derives pleasure, not to mention self-interest. And yet, a deaf, unconscious protest,
in the form of a dark, animal instinct, pushes her to a terrible crime - murder. At the same time, it seems that what provoked Lyubka was the merchant's debauchery - her victims, his vile lust, the money offered to her ... Everything that led her to such an existence caused a wild outburst of bitterness in her. Although, this is rather an extreme degree of instinctive unbridledness, rather than a conscious act ...
Bunin clearly shows that the consciousness of many of his "village" characters is captivated by wild primitive instincts, a psychological element uncontrolled by the intellect. At the same time, it looks somewhat strange that, being a believer, Ivan Alekseevich, with rare exceptions, says nothing about the faith of his characters. As if they are about God
and did not hear. And only, the above-mentioned "spontaneity" characterizes these images.
Such is the unfortunate Parashka in the story - "On the Road", somewhat reminiscent of Lyubka. Belated insight blinds and hardens her. True, here, the origins of cruelty are more likely genetic than social. After all, Parashka, of course, inherited the character of her father, whom she loves so much, and looks so much like him ...
The blind element, dark anger or revenge, is terrible when a woman becomes its victim. The short novel “Dubki”, from the “Dark Alleys” cycle, will amaze with the brutal cruelty of its hero, a dark peasant ... The beauty Anfisa, on pain of death, gives free rein to the feeling of love for the young master that sizzles her. And her old and unloved husband Laurus, convinced of his suspicions, kills a terrible painful death, his wife - who did not even have time to cheat on him.
... Sensing the unexpected return home of her husband, Anfisa, as the author writes: "all sensitively and wildly straightens up, jumps up, looking at me through the eyes of the Pythia."
Pythia ... in Greek mythology, this is a priestess-soothsayer in the temple of Apollo ... Looking through the eyes of the Pythia, Anfisa embodies both the premonition of her death and the horror of her ...
As you can see, it is precisely such images from the people, personifying cynicism, ignorance, cruelty, that increasingly secure for Bunin the characterization of a writer, a bourgeois, slandering the simple Russian people.
Meanwhile, in all his works, Ivan Alekseevich Bunin sought to develop the best traditions of Russian realistic fiction of the 19th century. And the emergence of other trends, different stripes of decadents, leading to the inevitable decline of contemporary literature, caused him a frantic, indignant rejection.
This is how Bunin characterized this newest literature in his speech at the anniversary of the Russkiye Vedomosti newspaper, on October 6, 1913: “The precious features of Russian literature have disappeared: depth, seriousness, nobility, directness - vulgarity, artificiality, slyness, boasting have spread like a sea, foppishness, bad taste, pompous and invariably false. The Russian language has been corrupted (in close cooperation between the writer and the newspaper), the flair for the rhythm and organic features of Russian prose speech has been lost, the verse has been vulgarized or brought to the vulgar ease - called "virtuosity" verse, everything has been vulgarized right up to the sun itself ...
In the world, in that forest village where Aglaya was born and grew up, her name was Anna.
She lost her father and mother early. Once in the winter, smallpox went into the village, and then many of the dead were taken to the graveyard in the village beyond Svyat-Ozero. There were two coffins at once in the Skuratovs' hut. The girl did not experience either fear or pity, she only remembered forever that unlike anything else, alien and heavy spirit that emanated from them, and that winter freshness, the cold of the Lenten thaw, that the men who carried the coffins to the firewood let into the hut under windows.
On that side of the forest, villages are rare and small, their rough log yards stand in disarray: like loamy mounds, even closer to rivers and lakes. The people there are not too poor and observe their prosperity, their old way of life, even though they have been going to work for centuries, leaving women to plow unborn land, where it is free from forests, to mow grass in the forest, and in winter to thunder with a loom. Anna's heart lay in that life in her childhood: both the black hut and the burning torch in the light were dear to her.
Katerina, her sister, had been married for a long time. She ruled the house, first together with her husband, taken into the yard, and then, as he began to leave almost all year round, alone. Under her supervision, the girl grew evenly and quickly, never fell ill, did not complain about anything, she only thought about everything. If Katerina called out to her, asked what was the matter with her, she answered simply, saying that her neck was creaking and that she was listening to it. "Here! - she said, turning her head, her little white face, - do you hear? - "What are you thinking about?" "So. I don't know". She didn’t hang out with her peers in her childhood, and she didn’t go anywhere - she only went wounds with her sister and that old village behind Svyat-Ozero, where on the churchyard, under the pines, pine crosses stick out and there is a log church covered with blackened wooden scales.
For the first time, they dressed her up in bast shoes and a motley sundress, bought a necklace and a yellow scarf.
Katerina grieved for her husband, wept; she wept over her childlessness. And, crying out tears, she made a vow to herself not to know her husband. When her husband came, she greeted him joyfully, talked well with him about household chores, carefully examined his shirts, mended what was necessary, bustled around the stove and was pleased when he liked something; but they slept separately, like strangers. And he left, - again she became boring and quiet. More and more often she left home, stayed in a nearby women's monastery, visited the elder Rodion, who was fleeing behind that monastery in a forest hut. She persistently learned to read, brought sacred books from the monastery and read them aloud, in an unusual voice, lowering her eyes, holding the book in both hands. And the girl stood near, listened, looking around the hut, which was always tidied up. Reveling in the sound of her voice, Katerina read about the saints, about the martyrs, who despised our dark, earthly things for the sake of the heavenly, who wanted to crucify their flesh with passions and lusts. Anna listened to the reading, like a song in a foreign language, with attention. But Katerina closed the book - and she never asked to read more: she was always incomprehensible.
By the age of thirteen, she had become remarkably thin, tall and strong. She was gentle, white, blue-eyed, and she loved simple, rough work. When summer came and Katerina's husband came, when the village went to mow, Anna went with hers and worked like an adult. Yes, summer work in that direction is scarce. And again the sisters were left alone, again returning to their even life, and again, having cleaned up with cattle, with a stove, Anna sat at sewing, at the camp, and Katerina read - about the seas, about deserts, about the city of Rome, about Byzantium, about miracles and the deeds of the early Christians. In the black forest hut, the words that enchanted the ear sounded then: “In the country of Cappadocia, during the reign of the pious Byzantine emperor Leo the Great ... During the days of the patriarchate of St. the stadiums, about the heavenly beauty of Barbara, beheaded by her fierce parent, about the relics kept by angels on Mount Sinai, about the warrior Eustathius, turned to the true God by the call of the Crucified Himself, who shone with the sun among the horns of a deer, by him, Eustathius, on the animal catch of the persecuted, about the labors Savva the consecrated one, who lived in the Valley of Fire, and about many, many, bitter days and nights spent near desert streams, in crypts and mountain kennels ... In adolescence, she saw herself in a dream in a long linen shirt and in an iron crown on her head. And Katerina said to her: "This is for you to die, sister, to an early death."
And in the fifteenth year she became quite like a girl, and the people marveled at her good looks: the golden-white color of her oblong face slightly played with a smoky blush; her eyebrows were thick, light blond, her eyes were blue; light, fine, - perhaps not too high, thin and long-armed - she quietly and well lifted her long eyelashes. The winter that year was especially severe. Forests and lakes were covered with snow, ice-holes were thickly covered with ice, it burned with a frosty wind and played in the morning dawns with two mirrored, in iridescent rings, suns. Before Christmas time, Katerina ate tyurya, oatmeal, while Anna ate only bread. “I want to post another prophetic dream,” she said to her sister. And on New Year's Eve she dreamed again: she saw an early frosty morning, a blinding icy sun had just rolled out from behind the snows, a sharp wind took her breath away; and into the wind, into the sun, across a white field, she flew on skis, chasing some marvelous ermine, but suddenly fell off somewhere into an abyss - and she became blind, suffocated in a cloud of snow dust that rose from under the skis on the fall ... It was impossible to understand anything in this dream, but Anna did not once look into her sister's eyes all through the New Year's Day; the priests drove around the village, they also went to the Skuratovs - she hid behind a curtain under the curtains. That winter, not yet established in her thoughts, she was often bored, and Katerina said to her: “I have been calling to Father Rodion for a long time, he would take everything off you!”
She read to her that winter about Alexei the God-man and John Kuschnik, who died in poverty at the gates of their noble parents, she read about Simeon the Stylite, who rotted alive while standing in a stone pillar. Anna asked her: “But why isn’t Father Rodion standing?” And she answered her that the exploits of holy people are different, that our passion-bearers mostly escaped through Kyiv caves, and then through dense forests or reached the kingdom of heaven in the form of naked, indecent fools. That winter, Anna also learned about Russian saints - about her spiritual ancestors: about Matthew the Perspicacious, who was granted to see only one dark and low in the world, to penetrate into the innermost filth of human hearts, to see the faces of underground devils and hear their unholy advice, about Mark The grave-digger, who devoted himself to burying the dead and, in constant closeness with Death, gained such power over her that she trembled his voices, about Isaac the Recluse, who dressed his body in the raw skin of a goat, forever attached to him, and indulged in crazy dances with demons, at night dragging him into galloping and wobbling to their loud cries, pipes, tympanums and harp ... “From him, Isaac, the holy fools went,” Katerina told her, “and how many of them there were later, you can’t count it! Father Rodion so bayed: they were not in any country, only the Lord visited us with them because of our great sins and by His great mercy. And she added that she heard in the monastery - a sad story about how Russia left Kiev for impenetrable forests and swamps, for its bast towns, under the cruel power of the Moscow princes, how it suffered from troubles, civil strife, from the ferocious Tatar hordes and from other Lord's punishments - from pestilence and famine, from conflagrations and heavenly signs. There were then, she said, so many multitudes of God's people, suffering and foolish for Christ's sake, that in the churches one could not hear divine singing from their squeak and cry. And a considerable number of them, she said, were numbered with the face of Heaven: there is Simon, from the Volga forests, who wandered and hid the human eye through wild tracts in one tattered shirt, after which, living in the city, he was daily beaten by citizens for his indecency and died of wounds caused by beatings; there is Procopius, who took incessant torment in the city of Vyatka, at night he ran up to the bell towers and beat the bells often and with alarm, as if during a fiery ignition; there is Procopius, born in the Zyryansk region, among savage hunters, who walked all his life with three pokers in his hands and adored empty places, sad forest shores above Sukhona, where, sitting on a pebble, he prayed with tears for those sailing along it; there is Jacob the Blessed, who sailed in a grave bast log along the river Mete to the dark inhabitants of that poor area; there is John Vlasaty, from under Rostov the Great, whose hair was so luxuriant that all who saw him fell into fear; there is John of Vologda, called the Big Cap, small in stature, with a wrinkled face, all hung with crosses, until his death he did not take off his cap, like cast iron; there is Vasily Nagokhodets, who instead of clothes wore both in the winter cold and in the summer pitch only iron chains and a handkerchief in his hand ... “Now, sister,” said Katerina, “they all stand before the Lord, rejoice in the host of His saints, but their relics incorrupt in cypress and silver shrines, in holy cathedrals, next to kings and saints! "-" But why didn’t Father Rodion play the fool? Anna asked again. And Katerina answered that he followed in the footsteps of those who imitated not Isaac, but Sergius of Radonezh, in the footsteps of the forest monasteries. Father Rodion, she said, first saved himself in one ancient and glorious desert, based on those very places where, in the middle of a dense forest, in the hollow of a three-century-old oak, the once great saint lived; there he carried out strict obedience and took monastic vows, for his repentant tears and heartlessness to the flesh of the contemplation of the Queen of Heaven herself, withstood the vow of seven years of seclusion and seven years of silence, but he was not satisfied with this either, left the monastery and came - already many, many years ago , - in our forests, put on bast bast shoes, a white hoodie made of sackcloth, a black epitrachelion with an eight-pointed cross on it, with the image of the skull and bones of Adam, eats only water and unboiled milkweed, blocked the window of his hut with an icon, sleeps in a coffin, under an inextinguishable lamp , and in the midnight hours, howling beasts, crowds of furious dead and devils are constantly besieging it ...
Fifteen years old, at the very time when a girl should become a bride, Anna left the world.
Spring that year came early and hot. The berries ripened in the forests innumerable, the grasses were waist-deep, and from the beginning of Petrovka they already went to mow them. Anna worked with pleasure, sunbathed in the sun, among herbs and flowers; a darker blush flared on her face, a handkerchief shifted over her forehead hid the warm look of her eyes. But then one day, on the mowing, a large shiny snake with an emerald head wrapped itself around the circle of her bare feet. Seizing the snake with her long and narrow hand, tearing off its icy and slippery tourniquet, Anna threw it far away and did not even raise her face, but was very frightened, she became whiter than the canvas. And Catherine said to her; “This is for you, sister, the third instruction; be afraid of the Serpent of the Tempter, a dangerous time is coming to you! And whether from fright, or from these words, only a week after that did not leave the color of death from Anna's face. And on Peter's day, unexpectedly, unexpectedly, she asked to go to the monastery to the vigil - and she went and spent the night there, and in the morning she was honored to stand in the crowd at the threshold of the hermit. And he showed her great mercy: he looked out of the whole crowd and beckoned her to him. And she left him, bowing her head low, covering half her face with a handkerchief, shifting it to the fire of her hot cheeks and in confusion of feelings not seeing the ground under her: he called her a chosen vessel, a sacrifice to the Lord, lit two wax candles and took one for himself , he gave her another and stood for a long time, praying in front of the image, and then ordered her to venerate that image - and blessed her to be in the monastery in obedience in a short time. “My happiness, unwise sacrifice! he told her. - Be not an earthly bride, but a heavenly one! I know, I know, your sister prepared you. I, a sinner, will also sweat about that.
In the monastery, in monasticism, renounced from the world and from her will for the sake of her spiritual successor, Anna, named Aglaya during her tonsure, stayed for thirty-three months. At the end of the thirty-third, she passed away.
How she lived there, how she was saved, no one knows in full about that, due to the prescription of time. But still something remained in the people's memory. One day, praying women went from different and distant lands to that forest region where Anna was born. They met at the river through which they had to cross, a habitual wanderer in holy places, in appearance unprepossessing, disheveled, even, just to say, wonderful, his eyes were blindfolded under the old master's bowler hat. They began to ask him about the ways, about the roads to the monastery, about Rodion himself and about Anna. In response, he first spoke to them about himself: I, they say, are sisters, and I myself know not God knows what, but I can partly talk with you, for I am returning precisely from those localities; you, he said, it’s probably terrifying with me - and I’m not surprised at this, many are not honey with me: whether he meets on foot, whether on horseback, he sees - a wanderer is walking through the forest, hobbles alone with a white handkerchief over his eyes, and even sings psalms - understandable, dumbfounded; because of my sins, my eyes are greedy and quick, my eyesight is so rare and piercing that even at night I see like a cat, being generally unreasonably sighted, due to the fact that I do not go with people, but on the sidelines; Well, so I decided to shorten my bodily vision a little ... Then he began to tell how much, according to his calculation, the pilgrims still had to go, what areas they had to go to, where to spend the night and rest, and what kind of monastery it was.
First, - he said, - the village on Svyat-Ozero will come, then the same village where Anna was born, and there you will see another lake, monastic, although shallow, but decent, and we will have to sail on this lake in a boat. And as soon as you land, the very monastery is at hand. It is clear that on the other side of the forest there is no end, and through the forest, as usual, the walls of the monastery, the domes of the church, the cells, the hospices look...
Then he spoke for a long time about the life of Rodion, about Anna's childhood and adolescence, at the end he spoke about her stay in the monastery:
Her stay was, oh, short! - he said, - It's a pity, you say, such beauty and youth? We, the stupid ones, understandably, it's a pity. Yes, apparently, Father Rodion knew well what he was doing. After all, he was like that with everyone - and affectionate, and meek, and joyful, and persistent to the point of mercilessness, especially with Aglaya. I, butterflies, was at her resting place ... A long grave, beautiful, all overgrown with grass, green ... And I won’t hide it, I won’t hide it: it’s there, on the grave, I thought of blindfolding myself, it was Aglaya’s example that thought me up: after all, she, it’s necessary you know, for all her stay in the monastery she did not raise her eyes for a single hour - as she moved the veil over them, she remained, and she was so stingy with her speech, so evasive that even Father Rodion himself marveled at her. But, I suppose, it was not easy for her to lift such a feat - to part with the earth, with a human face forever! And she carried the hardest work in the monastery, and stood idle at night in prayer, But then, they say, her father Rodion loved her! He distinguished her from everyone, daily allowed her into his hut, had long conversations with her about the future glory of the monastery, even revealed his visions to her - understandably, with a strict commandment of silence. Well, here it burned down, like a candle, in the shortest possible time ... Are you sighing again, sorry? I agree: sad! But I’ll tell you much more: for her great humility, for her neglect of the earthly world, for her silence and overwhelming labor, he did something unheard of: at the end of the third year of her feat, he deceived her, and then, through prayer and holy reflection, called her to him. in a single terrible hour - and ordered to accept death. Yes, so directly and said to her: “My happiness, your time has come! Remain in my memory as beautiful as you are standing in front of me at this hour: depart to the Lord!” And what do you think? A day later, she passed away. Fell down, blazed with fire - and ended. True, he consoled her - he told her before his death that, since only a little of his secret conversations she could not hide in the first days of obedience, only her mouth would decay. He granted silver for her funeral, copper for distribution at her burial, a hammer of candles for a magpie on her, a yellow ruble candle for her coffin, and the coffin itself - round, oak, hollowed out. And with his blessing, they put her, thin and with a superbly long sprout, in that coffin with her hair loose, in two shroud shirts, in a white cassock, girded with a black hem, and over it - in a black mantle with white crosses; they put a green velvet cap embroidered with gold on the head, a kamilavka on the cap, after that they tied it with a blue shawl with tassels, and put leather beads in the hands ... They removed it, in a word, where it’s good! And yet, butterflies, there is a tricky, demonic rumor that she didn’t want to die, oh, how she still didn’t want to! Departing in such youth and in such beauty, they say, she said goodbye to everyone in tears, she said loudly to everyone: “Forgive me!” In the end, she closed her eyes and said separately: “And you, mother earth, have sinned seven in soul and body - will you forgive me?” And those words are terrible: bowing down to the ground, they were read in a penitential prayer in ancient Rus' during the evening under the Trinity, under the pagan mermaid day.
1916
Notes
Coarse linen or cotton fabric made of multi-colored threads, usually homespun.
Kinovia is a monastery with a communal charter, one of two (along with hermitage) forms of organization of monasticism at the initial historical stage.
Simeon the Stylite (about 390 - September 2, 459) - saint, Syrian founder of a new form of asceticism - stylistics. He spent 37 years on the pillar in fasting and prayer; according to his life, he received from God the gift to heal mental and bodily illnesses, to foresee the future.
