/ / / Analysis of the episode “Hunting in Otradnoye” in Tolstoy’s novel “War and Peace”
The novel "War and Peace" contains a lot of episodes where the reader gets acquainted with certain life situations, which the main characters found themselves in. With the help of such individual episodes, the author of the novel, Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy, was able to fully express and convey the intended scenario, starting with the beginning and ending with the denouement - the completion of the scene.
The hunting episode in Otradnoye is interesting and extremely fascinating. It is in this scene that L. Tolstoy describes the true morals of the nobles, who could not imagine their lives without hunting. And when they were completely immersed in this process, they forgot about all previous intentions.
Preparing for the hunt took a lot of time. This was a serious stage. The author always specifies the number of hounds that accompanied the hunters. Each of the characters approaches this activity completely differently. For example, Count Ilya Andreevich was not particularly keen on the process of catching live bait, however, he perfectly mastered all the laws of hunting.
Another interesting fact is that the description of the hunting process occurs not on behalf of the author, but on behalf of the participants themselves. The events that take place, the barking and chasing of dogs, are described so realistically that the reader seems to become another participant in the hunt.
Leo Tolstoy characterizes from a different perspective. He really wants to catch the wolf. This hope of meeting a seasoned predator was like a desire small child. The hero turns to God with a prayer and asks to send a gray beast on his path. And suddenly, his forgiveness was heard. There is a wolf ahead... Nikolai, not seeing anyone around him, quickly rushed in pursuit. For one moment he forgot that he was riding a horse, that dogs were rushing next to him. Rostov competed with his uncle and other riders. He was afraid that one of them would defeat the wolf first. But luck turned to Nikolai. His dog Karai grabbed the predator by the throat. Only Danila dared to kill the wolf.
Exhausted, but happy hunters loaded the still living wolf onto a snorting horse and went to the general gathering place. So, the hunters boasted about their catch. Old Prince watched the events that took place without interest, but Nikolai was simply obsessed with the hunting process.
In this episode the author conveys a lot important details, which fill the hunting scene, fully characterize every moment. The reader observes those amusements that were close to the nobles. They were unusually keen on driving fast, chasing wild animals and received incredible pleasure if they won.
Tolstoy L.N.
Hound hunting
(excerpts from the novel “War and Peace”)
It was already winter, the morning frosts were binding the ground wet with autumn rains, the greenery was already turning away and bright green was separated from the stripes of browning, cattle-killed, winter and light yellow spring stubble with red stripes of buckwheat. The peaks and forests, which at the end of August were still green islands between the black fields of winter crops and stubble, became golden and bright red islands among the bright green winter crops. The hare was already half worn out (molted), the fox broods began to scatter, and the young wolves were more dog. It was the best hunting time. The dogs of the ardent, young hunter Rostov not only entered the hunting body, but also were knocked out so that general council The hunters decided to give the dogs a rest for three days and set off on September 16th, starting from the oak grove where there was an untouched brood of wolves.
All this day the hunt was at home; It was frosty and bitter, but in the evening it began to cool down and thaw. On September 15, when young Rostov looked out the window in the morning in his dressing gown, he saw a morning that nothing could be better for hunting: as if the sky was melting and descending to the ground without wind. The only movement that was in the air was the quiet movement from top to bottom of microscopic drops of mg or fog descending. Transparent drops hung on the bare branches of the garden and fell on the newly fallen leaves. The soil in the garden, like a poppy, turned glossy wet black and, at a short distance, merged with the dull and damp cover of fog. Nikolai came out onto the wet, muddy porch: it smelled of withering forest and dogs. The black-spotted, wide-bottomed bitch Milka with large black protruding eyes, seeing her owner, stood up, stretched back and lay down like a brown-haired woman, then suddenly jumped up and licked him right on the nose and mustache. Another greyhound dog, seeing its owner from the colored path, arched its back, quickly rushed to the porch and, raising its tail, began to rub against Nikolai’s legs.
Oh goy! - at this time that inimitable hunting call was heard, which combines both the deepest bass and the most subtle tenor; and from around the corner came the hunter and hunter Danilo, a Ukrainian-style, gray-haired, wrinkled hunter with a cropped hair, with a bent arapnik in his hand and with that expression of independence and contempt for everything in the world that only hunters have. He took off his Circassian hat in front of the master and looked at him contemptuously. This contempt was not offensive to the master: Nikolai knew that this Danilo, who despised everything and stood above all else, was still his man and hunter.
Danilo! - Nikolai said timidly, feeling that at the sight of this hunting weather, these dogs and the hunter, he was already seized by that irresistible hunting feeling in which a person forgets all previous intentions, like a man in love in the presence of his mistress.
What do you order, your Excellency? - asked the protodeacon's bass, hoarse from raking, and two black shining eyes glanced from under their brows at the silent master. “What, or you won’t stand it”? as if those two eyes said.
Nice day, huh? And the chase and the gallop, eh? - Nikolai said, scratching Milka’s ears.
Danilo did not answer and blinked his eyes.
“I sent Uvarka to listen at dawn,” his bass voice said after a moment of silence, “he said he transferred it to the Otradnensky order, they were howling there.” (Translated meant that the she-wolf, about whom they had learned, moved with the children to the Otradnensky forest, which was two miles from the house and which was a small place).
But do you need to go? - said Nikolai. “Come to me with Uvarka.”
As you order!
So wait a minute to feed.
Five minutes later, Danilo and Uvarka stood in Nikolai’s large office. Despite the fact that Danilo was small in stature, seeing him in the room made an impression similar to when you see a horse or a bear on the floor between the furniture and the conditions of human life. Danilo himself felt this and, as usual, stood at the very door, trying to speak more quietly, not to move, so as not to somehow damage the master’s chambers, and trying to quickly express everything and go out into the open space, from under the ceiling into the sky.
Having finished the questions and having elicited Danila’s consciousness that the dogs were okay (Danila himself wanted to go), Nikolai ordered them to saddle up. But just as Danila wanted to leave, Natasha entered the room with quick steps, not yet combed or dressed, wearing a large nanny’s scarf. Petya ran in together, with her.
You are going? - Natasha said, “I knew it!” Sonya said that you won’t go. I knew that today was such a day that it was impossible not to go.
“We’re going,” Nikolai answered reluctantly, who now, since he intended to undertake a serious hunt, did not want to take Natasha and Petya. “We’re going, but only after the wolves: you’ll be bored.”
You know that this is my greatest pleasure,” said Natasha. “This is bad,” he rode himself, ordered him to saddle, but didn’t tell us anything.
All obstacles to the Russians are in vain, let's go! - Petya shouted.
“But you’re not allowed to: mummy said you’re not allowed to,” said Nikolai, turning to Natasha.
No, I’ll go, I’ll definitely go,” Natasha said decisively. “Danila, tell us to saddle up, and for Mikhail to ride out with my pack,” she turned to the hunter.
And so it seemed indecent and difficult for Danila to be in the room, but to have anything to do with the young lady seemed impossible to him. He lowered his eyes and hurried out, as if it had nothing to do with him, trying not to inadvertently harm the young lady.
The old count, who had always kept a huge hunt, but now transferred the entire hunt to the jurisdiction of his son, on this day, September 15th, having fun, got ready to leave too.
An hour later the whole hunt was at the porch. Nikolai, with a stern and serious look, showing that there was no time now to deal with trifles, walked past Natasha and Petya, who were telling him something. He inspected all parts of the hunt, sent the pack and hunters ahead to the race, sat on his red Donets and, whistling the dogs of his pack, set off through the threshing floor into the field leading to the Otradnensky order. The old count's horse, a game-colored mering called Bethlyanka, was led by the count's stirrup; he himself had to go straight to the hole left for him in a drozheck.
Of all the hounds, 54 dogs were bred, under which 6 people went out as handlers and catchers. In addition to the masters, there were 8 greyhound hunters, who were followed by more than 40 greyhounds, so that with the master's packs about 130 dogs and 20 horse hunters went out into the field.
Each dog knew its owner and name. Each hunter knew his business, place and purpose. As soon as they left the fence, everyone, without noise or conversation, stretched out evenly and calmly along the road and field leading to the Otradnensky forest.
The horses walked across the field as if walking on a fur carpet, occasionally splashing through puddles as they crossed the roads. The foggy sky continued to descend imperceptibly and evenly to the ground; the air was quiet, warm, soundless. Occasionally one could hear the whistling of a hunter, the snoring of a horse, the blow of an arapnik, or the yelp of a dog that was not moving in its place.
Having ridden about a mile away, five more horsemen with dogs appeared from the fog towards the Rostov hunt. A fresh, handsome old man with a large gray mustache rode ahead.
“Hello, uncle,” Nikolai said when the old man drove up to him.
It’s pure business, march!.. I knew it,” the uncle spoke (he was a distant relative, a poor neighbor of the Rostovs), “I knew that you couldn’t stand it, and it’s good that you’re going.” Pure march! (This was my uncle's favorite saying). Take the order now, otherwise my Girchik reported that the Ilagins are eagerly standing in Korniki; They'll take your brood right under your nose - it's pure business!
That's where I'm going. What, to bring down the flocks? - Nikolai asked, - get out...
The hounds were united into one pack, and uncle and Nikolai rode side by side. Natasha, wrapped in scarves, from under which a lively face with sparkling eyes could be seen, galloped up to them, accompanied by Petya and Mikhaila, who were not far behind her - the hunter and the guard, who was assigned as a nanny with her. Petya was laughing at something and beating and tugging at his horse. Natasha deftly and confidently sat on her black Arab and with a faithful hand, without effort, reined him in.
Uncle looked disapprovingly at Petya and Natasha. He did not like to combine self-indulgence with the serious business of hunting.
Hello, uncle, we're on our way! - Petya shouted.
“Hello, hello, but don’t run over the dogs,” the uncle said sternly.
Nikolenka, what a lovely dog, Trunila! “He recognized me,” Natasha said about her beloved hound dog.
“Trunila, first of all, is not a dog, but a survivor,” thought Nikolai and looked sternly at his sister, trying to make her feel the distance that should have separated them at that moment. Natasha understood this.
“You, uncle, don’t think that we will interfere with anyone,” said Natasha. “We will stand in our place and not move.”
And a good thing, countess,” said the uncle. “Just don’t fall off your horse,” he added: “otherwise it’s a pure march!” - there’s nothing to hold on to.
The island of the Otradnensky order was visible about a hundred yards away, and those arriving were approaching it. Rostov, having finally decided with his uncle where to throw the hounds from, and showing Natasha a place where she could stand and where nothing could run, headed off to the race over the ravine.
Well, nephew, you’re becoming like a seasoned man,” said the uncle: “Don’t iron (etch).”
“As necessary,” answered Rostov. - Karai, fuit! - he shouted, responding with this call to his uncle’s words. Karai was old and ugly, a brown-haired male, famous for that he alone took on a seasoned wolf. Everyone took their places.
The old count, knowing his son’s hunting ardor, hurried not to be late, and before those who arrived had time to arrive at the place, Ilya Andreich, cheerful, rosy, with trembling cheeks, rode up on his little black ones along the greenery to the hole left for him, straightening his fur coat and putting on hunting shells , climbed onto his smooth, well-fed, quiet and kind Bethlyanka, who had turned grey, like him. The horses and droshky were sent away. Count Ilya Andreich, although not a hunter by heart, but who firmly knew the laws of hunting, rode into the edge of the bushes from which he was standing, took apart the reins, adjusted himself in the saddle and, feeling ready, looked back smiling.
Next to him stood his valet, an ancient but overweight rider, Semyon Chekmar. Chekmar kept in his pack three dashing wolfhounds, but as fat as the owner and the horse. Two dogs, smart, old, lay down without packs. A hundred paces further away, in the edge of the forest, stood Count Mitka, another stepladder, a desperate rider and passionate hunter. The Count, according to an old habit, before the hunt drank a silver glass of hunting casserole, had a snack and washed it down with a half-bottle of his favorite Bordeaux.
Ilya Andreich was a little flushed from the wine and the ride; his eyes, covered with moisture, shone especially, and he, wrapped in... fur coat, sitting on the saddle, looked like a child who was going for a walk.
Thin with drawn-in cheeks, Chekmar, having settled down with his affairs, looked at the master with whom he lived for 30 years in perfect harmony, and, understanding his pleasant mood, waited for a pleasant conversation. Another third person approached cautiously (it was evident that he was already learned) from behind the forest and stopped behind the count. The face was that of an old man with a gray beard, wearing a woman's hood and a high cap. It was the jester Nastasya Ivanovna.
Well, Nastasya Ivanovna,” the count said in a whisper, winking at him, “just trample the beast, Danilo will give you the task.”
“I myself... have a mustache,” said Nastasya Ivanovna.
Shhhh!.. - the count shushed and turned to Semyon:
Have you seen Natalya Ilyinichna? - he asked Semyon. “Where is she?”
He and Pyotr Ilyich came from the Zharov weeds,” answered Semyon, smiling. “They are also ladies, but they have a great desire.”
And you’re surprised, Semyon, how she drives... huh? - said the count; - at least it fits a man.
How not to be surprised? Bravely, cleverly!
Where is Nikolasha? Above the Lyadovsky top, or what? - the count kept asking in a whisper.
That's right, sir. They already know where to stand. They know how to drive so subtly that sometimes Danila and I are amazed,” said Semyon, knowing how to please the master.
Drives well, eh? And what about the horse, huh?
Paint a picture! Just the other day, a fox was killed in the Zavarzinsky weeds. They began to jump over, out of delight, passion - the horse is a thousand rubles, but the rider has no price. Look for such a fine fellow!
“Search...,” the count repeated, apparently regretting that Semyon’s speech ended so soon. “Search,” he said, turning away the flaps of his fur coat and taking out his snuff-box.
The other day, as they came out of mass in full regalia, Mikhail Sidorich... - Semyon did not finish, hearing the rush clearly heard in the quiet air with the howling of no more than two or three hounds. He bowed his head, listened, and silently threatened the master. “They attacked the brood...” he whispered, “they took them straight to Lyadovsky.”
The count, having forgotten to wipe the smile from his face, looked ahead along the lintel into the distance and, without sniffing, held the snuffbox in his hand. Following the barking of the dogs, a voice was heard from the wolf, sent into Danila’s bass horn; the pack joined the first three dogs, and the voices of the hounds could be heard roaring loudly with that special howl that served as a sign of the rutting of the wolf. Those arriving no longer squawked, but hooted, and from behind all the voices came Danila’s voice, sometimes bassy, sometimes piercingly thin. Danila’s voice seemed to fill the entire forest, came out from behind the forest and sounded far into the field.
After listening in silence for a few seconds, the count and his stirrup became convinced that the hounds had split into two flocks: one large one, roaring especially hotly, began to move away, the other part of the flock rushed along the forest past the count, and in the presence of this flock Danila’s hooting could be heard. Both of these ruts merged, shimmered, but both moved away.
Semyon sighed and bent down to straighten the bundle in which the young male was entangled; The count also sighed and, noticing the snuff-box in his hand, opened it and took out a pinch. "Back!" - Semyon shouted at the dog, who stepped out to the edge. The Count shuddered and dropped his snuffbox. Nastasya Ivanovna got down and began to lift her. The Count and Semyon looked at him.
Suddenly, as often happens, the sound of the rut instantly came closer, as if the barking mouths of dogs and the hooting of Danila were right in front of them.
The count looked around and to the right he saw Mitka, who was looking at the count with rolling eyes and, raising his hat, pointed him forward, to the other side.
The Count and Semyon jumped out of the edge of the forest and to their left they saw a wolf, which, softly waddling, quietly jumped up to their left to the very edge at which they were standing. The evil Dogs squealed and, breaking away from the pack, rushed towards the wolf, past the legs of the horses.
The wolf stopped running, awkwardly, like a sick toad, turned his forehead head towards the dogs and, just as gently waddling, jumped once or twice and, shaking a log (tail), disappeared into the edge of the forest. At that same moment, from the opposite edge of the forest, with a roar similar to crying, one, another, a third hound jumped out in confusion, and the whole pack rushed across the field, through the very place where the wolf had crawled (ran) through. Following the hounds, the hazel bushes parted, and Danila’s brown horse, blackened with sweat, appeared. On long back sitting in her lump, lolling forward, was Danila, without a hat, with gray tousled hair over a red, sweaty face.
Hoot, hoot!.. - he shouted. When he saw the count, lightning flashed in his eyes.
F... - he shouted, threatening the count with his raised arapnik.
They screwed up the wolf!.. Hunters! - and, as if not deigning the embarrassed, frightened count with further conversation, he, with all the anger he had prepared for the count, hit the sunken wet sides of the brown gelding and rushed after the hounds. The Count, as if punished, stood looking around and trying with a smile to make Semyon regret his situation. But Semyon was no longer there: he, taking a detour through the bushes, jumped the wolf from the abatis. Greyhounds also jumped over the beast from both sides. But the wolf walked through the bushes, and not a single hunter intercepted him.
Nikolai Rostov, meanwhile, stood in his place, waiting for the beast. By the approach and distance of the rut, by the sounds of the voices of dogs known to him, by the approach, distance and elevation of the voices of those arriving, he felt what was happening on the island. He knew that there were arrived (young) and seasoned (old) wolves on the island; he knew that the hounds had split into two packs, that they were being hunted somewhere, and that something untoward had happened. Every second he waited for the beast to come to his side. He made thousands of different assumptions about how and from which side the animal would run and how it would poison it. Hope gave way to despair. Several times he turned to God with a prayer for the wolf to come out to him; he prayed with that passionate and conscientious feeling with which people pray in moments strong excitement, depending on an insignificant reason. “Well, what should you do,” he said to God, “do this for me! They know that You are great and that it is a sin to ask You for this; but, for God’s sake, make sure that the seasoned one comes out on me and that Karai, in front of the “uncle” who is watching from there, slams him with a death grip on the throat.” A thousand times during these half-hours, with a persistent, intense and restless gaze, Rostov looked around the edge of the forest with two sparse oak trees over an aspen undergrowth, and the ravine with a worn edge, and the uncle’s hat, barely visible from behind a bush to the right.
“No, this happiness will not happen,” thought Rostov, “but what would it cost! Will not be! I always have misfortune in everything, both in cards and in war.” Austerlitz and Dolokhov flashed brightly, but quickly changing, in his imagination. “Only once in my life would I hunt down a seasoned wolf, I don’t want to do it again!” he thought, straining his hearing and vision, looking to the left and again to the right and listening to the slightest shades of the sounds of the rut.
He looked again to the right and saw something running across the deserted field towards him. “No, this can’t be!” thought Rostov, sighing heavily, like a man sighs when he accomplishes something that has been long awaited by him. The greatest happiness happened - and so simply, without noise, without glitter, without commemoration. Rostov could not believe his eyes, and this doubt lasted more than a second. The wolf ran forward and jumped heavily over the pothole that was on his road. It was an old beast with a gray back and a full, reddish belly. He ran leisurely, apparently convinced that no one could see him. Rostov, without breathing, looked back at the dogs. They lay and stood, not seeing the wolf and not understanding anything. Old Karai, turning his head and baring his yellow teeth, angrily looking for a flea, clicked them on his hind thighs.
Hoot! - Rostov said in a whisper, his lips protruding. The dogs, trembling their glands, jumped up, pricking their ears. Karai finished scratching his thigh and stood up, ears pricked, and slightly shook his tail, on which felts of wool hung.
“Let me in or not let me in?” Nikolai said to himself, while the wolf moved towards him, separating from the forest. Suddenly the whole face of the wolf changed; he shuddered, seeing something he had probably never seen before human eyes, directed at him, and, slightly turning his head towards the hunter, stopped.
Backward or forward? Eh! anyway, go ahead! apparently... - he seemed to say to himself and set off forward, no longer looking back, with a soft, rare, free, but decisive leap.
Hoo!.. - Nikolai shouted in a voice that was not his own, and of its own accord his good horse rushed headlong down the hill, jumping over water holes across the wolf; and the dogs rushed even faster, overtaking her. Nikolai did not hear his cry, did not feel that he was galloping, did not see either the dogs or the place where he was galloping; he saw only the wolf, who, intensifying his run, galloped, without changing direction, along the ravine. The first to appear near the beast was the black-spotted, wide-bottomed Milka and began to approach the beast. Closer, closer... she came to him. But the wolf glanced slightly sideways at her, and instead of attacking her, as she always did, Milka suddenly raised her tail and began to rest on her front legs.
Whoops! - Nikolai shouted.
Red Lyubim jumped out from behind Milka, quickly rushed at the wolf and grabbed him by the gachi (hips of his hind legs), but at the same second he jumped in fear to the other side. The wolf sat down, clicked his teeth and got up again and galloped forward, escorted a yard away by all the dogs that did not approach him.
“He will go away! No, It is Immpossible!" thought Nikolai, continuing to scream in a hoarse voice.
Karai! Hoo!.. he shouted, looking with the eyes of the old dog, his only hope. Karai, with all his old strength, stretched out as much as he could, looking at the wolf, galloped heavily away from the beast, across it. But from the speed of the wolf’s leap and the slowness of the dog’s leap, it was clear that Karai’s calculation was wrong. Nikolai already saw the forest not far ahead of him, which, having reached it, the wolf would probably leave. Dogs and a hunter appeared ahead, galloping almost towards them. There was still hope. A young, long male, unfamiliar to Nikolai, from someone else's pack, quickly flew up to the wolf in front and almost knocked him over. The wolf quickly, as could not have been expected from him, stood up and rushed towards the dark dog, snapped his teeth - and the bloody dog, with a torn side open, squealed shrilly and stuck his head into the ground.
Karayushka! Father!.. Nikolai cried. Thanks to the stop that had taken place, the old dog with his tufts of hair dangling on his thighs, cutting off the wolf's path, was already five steps away from him. As if sensing danger, the wolf glanced sideways at Karai, hiding the log (tail) even further between his legs, and increased his gallop. But here - Nikolai only saw that something had happened to Karai - he instantly found himself on the wolf and together with him fell head over heels into the waterhole that was in front of them.
That minute when Nikolai saw dogs swarming with the wolf in the pond, from under which the wolf’s gray fur could be seen, his stretched back leg with his ears flattened, his frightened and choking head (Karai was holding him by the throat), the minute when Nikolai saw this, was the happiest moment of his life. He had already taken hold of the pommel of the saddle to dismount and stab the wolf, when suddenly the animal’s head poked up from this mass of dogs, then its front legs stood on the edge of the waterhole. The wolf flashed his teeth (Karai was no longer holding him by the throat), jumped out of the pond with his hind legs and, tucking his tail, again separated from the dogs, moved forward. Karai with bristling fur, probably bruised or wounded, barely climbed out of the waterhole.
My God! For what?..- Nikolai shouted in despair.
The uncle's hunter, on the other side, galloped across the wolf, and his dogs again stopped the beast. They surrounded him again.
Nikolai, his stirrup, his uncle and his hunter hovered over the beast, hooting, screaming, every minute getting ready to get down when the wolf sat on its hindquarters, and every time running forward when the wolf shook itself and moved towards the notch that was supposed to save it.
Even at the beginning of this persecution, Danila, hearing hooting, jumped out to the edge of the forest. He saw Karai take the wolf and stopped the horse, believing that the matter was over. But when the hunters did not get down, the wolf shook himself and ran away again. Danila released his brown one not towards the wolf, but in a straight line towards the notch, just like Karai - across the beast. Thanks to this direction, he jumped towards the wolf, while the second time he was stopped by his uncle's dogs.
Danila galloped silently, holding the drawn dagger in his left hand and, like a flail, milking his arapnik along the toned sides of the brown one.
Nikolai did not see or hear Danila until a brown one panted past him, panting heavily, and he heard the sound of a body falling and saw that Danila was already lying in the middle of the dogs on the back of the wolf, trying to catch him by the ears. It was obvious to the dogs, the hunters, and the wolf that it was all over now. The animal, with its ears flattened in fear, tried to rise, but the dogs surrounded it.
Danila, standing up, took a falling step and with all his weight, as if lying down to rest, fell on the wolf, grabbing him by the ears. Nikolai wanted to stab, but Danila whispered: “No need, we’ll make a joke,” and, changing his position, he stepped on the wolf’s neck with his foot. They put a stick in the wolf's mouth, tied him up, as if bridling him, tied his legs, and Danila rolled the wolf from one side to the other a couple of times.
With happy, exhausted faces, the living seasoned wolf was loaded onto a darting and snorting horse and, accompanied by dogs squealing at him, was taken to the place where everyone was supposed to gather. Two young ones were taken by hounds and three by greyhounds. The hunters arrived with their prey and stories, and everyone came up to look at the seasoned wolf, who, hanging his forehead with a bitten stick in his mouth, looked at this whole crowd of dogs and people surrounding him with large, glassy eyes. When they touched him, he trembled with his bound legs, wildly and at the same time simply looked at everyone. Count Ilya Andreich also drove up and touched the wolf.
“Oh, what a swear word,” he said. - Seasoned, huh? - he asked Danila, who was standing next to him.
Seasoned, your Excellency,” answered Danila, hastily taking off his hat.
The Count remembered his missed wolf and his encounter with Danila.
However, brother, you are angry,” said the count.
Danila said nothing and only smiled shyly, a childish, meek and pleasant smile.
The old count went home; Natasha and Petya promised to come right away. The hunt went on, as it was still early. In the middle of the day, the hounds were released into a ravine overgrown with young, dense forest. Nikolai, standing in the stubble, saw all his hunters.
Opposite from Nikolai there were green fields, and there stood his hunter, alone in a hole behind a protruding hazel bush. They had just brought in the hounds when Nikolai heard the rare rutting of a dog he knew, Volthorne; other dogs joined him, then falling silent, then starting to chase again. A minute later, a voice was heard from the island calling for a fox, and the whole flock, falling down, drove along the screwdriver, towards the greenery, away from Nikolai.
He saw horse-dwellers in red hats galloping along the edges of an overgrown ravine, he even saw dogs, and every second he expected a fox to appear on the other side, in the greenery.
The hunter, standing in the hole, moved and released the dogs, and Nikolai saw a red, low, strange fox, which, fluffing its pipe, hurriedly rushed through the greenery. The dogs began to sing to her. As they approached, the fox began to wag in circles between them, making these circles more and more often and circling its fluffy pipe (tail) around itself; and then someone’s white dog flew in, followed by a black one, and everything got mixed up, and the dogs became a star, with their butts apart, slightly hesitating. Two hunters galloped up to the dogs: one in a red hat, the other, a stranger, in a green caftan.
"What it is?" thought Nikolai. “Where did this hunter come from? This is not my uncle’s.”
The hunters fought off the fox and stood on foot for a long time, without rushing. Near them stood horses with their saddles on the chumburs, and dogs lay.
The hunters waved their hands and did something with the fox. From there the sound of a horn was heard - the agreed signal of a fight.
“It’s the Ilaginsky hunter who is rebelling against something with our Ivan,” said the eager Nikolai.
Nikolai sent the groom to call his sister and Petya to him and walked at a walk to the place where the riders were collecting the hounds. Several hunters galloped to the scene of the fight,
Nikolai got off his horse and stopped next to the hounds with Natasha and Petya riding up, waiting for information about how the matter would end. A fighting hunter with a fox in toroks emerged from the edge of the forest and approached the young master. He took off his hat from afar and tried to speak respectfully; but he was pale, out of breath, and his face was angry. One of his eyes was black, but he probably didn’t know it.
What did you have there? - Nikolai asked.
Why, he will hunt from under our hounds! And my mousey bitch caught it. Go and sue! Enough for the fox! I'll give him a ride as a fox. Here she is, in Toroki. Don’t you want this?..- said the hunter, pointing to the dagger and, probably imagining that he was still talking to his enemy.
Nikolai, without talking to the hunter, asked his sister and Petya to wait for him and went to the place where this hostile Ilaginskaya hunt was.
The victorious hunter rode into the crowd of hunters and there, surrounded by sympathizing curious people, recounted his feat.
The fact was that Ilagin, with whom the Rostovs were in a quarrel and trial, was hunting in places that, according to custom, belonged to the Rostovs, and now, as if on purpose, he ordered to drive up to the island where the Rostovs were hunting, and allowed him to poison his hunter from under other people's hounds.
Nikolai never saw Ilagin, but, as always, in his judgments and feelings, not knowing the middle, according to rumors about the violence and willfulness of this landowner, he hated him with all his soul and considered him his worst enemy. He, embittered and agitated, was now riding towards him, tightly clutching the arapnik in his hand, in full readiness for the most decisive and dangerous actions against your enemy.
As soon as he left the ledge of the forest, he saw a fat gentleman in a beaver cap on a beautiful black horse, accompanied by two stirrups, moving towards him.
Instead of an enemy, Nikolai found in Ilagin a personable, courteous gentleman, who especially wanted to get to know the young count. Having approached Rostov, Ilagin lifted his beaver cap and said that he was very sorry about what happened; that he orders to punish the hunter who allowed himself to be poisoned from under other people's dogs, asks the count to be acquainted and offers him his places for hunting.
Natasha, afraid that her brother would do something terrible, rode not far behind him in excitement. Seeing that the enemies were bowing in a friendly manner, she drove up to them. Ilagin raised his beaver cap even higher in front of Natasha and, smiling pleasantly, said that the countess represented Diana both by her passion for hunting and by her beauty, about which he had heard a lot.
Ilagin, in order to make amends for the guilt of his hunter, urgently asked Rostov to go to his eel, which was a mile away, which he kept for himself and in which, according to him, there were hares. Nikolai agreed, and the hunt, having doubled in size, moved on.
It was necessary to go through fields to reach the Ilaginsky eel. The hunters straightened out. The gentlemen rode together. Uncle, Rostov, Ilagin secretly glanced at other people's dogs, trying so that others would not notice, and anxiously looked for rivals for their dogs among these dogs.
Rostov was especially struck by her beauty by a small pure-dog, narrow, but with steel muscles, a thin muzzle and bulging black eyes, a red-spotted bitch in Ilagin’s pack. He had heard about the agility of the Ilagin dogs, and in this beautiful bitch he saw his Milka’s rival.
In the middle of a sedate conversation about this year's harvest, which Ilagin started, Nikolai pointed out to him his red-spotted bitch.
This bitch is good! - he said in a casual tone. - Frisky?
This? Yes, this one - kind dog“He’s catching,” Ilagin said in an indifferent voice about his red-spotted Erza, for which a year ago he gave three families of servants to his neighbor. “So you, Count, don’t boast about threshing?” he continued the conversation that had begun. And considering it polite to repay the young count in kind, Ilagin examined his dogs and chose Milka, who caught his eye with her width.
This black-spotted one is good - okay! - he said.
“Yes, nothing, he’s jumping,” answered Nikolai. “If only a seasoned hare ran into the field, I would show you what kind of dog this is!” - he thought and, turning to the stirrup, said that he would give a ruble to the one who suspects, that is, finds, a lying hare.
“I don’t understand,” Ilagin continued, “how other hunters are envious of the beast and the dogs. I'll tell you about myself, Count. It makes me happy, you know, to take a ride; If you're going to meet with such company... what's better (he again took off his beaver cap in front of Natasha); and this is to count the skins, how many I brought - I don’t care!
Or so that I would be offended that someone else’s dog catches it, and not mine - I just want to admire the baiting, right, Count? That's why I judge...
Oh, that’s it,” at that time a drawn-out cry was heard from one of the stopped greyhounds. He stood on a half-mound of stubble, raising his arapnik, and once again repeated in a drawn-out manner: “O-oh!” (This sound and the raised arapnik meant that he saw a lying hare in front of him).
“Oh, I guess I suspected it,” Ilagin said casually. “Well, let’s poison him, Count!”
Yes, we need to drive up... yes - what about together? - Nikolai answered, peering at Erza and the red Scolding uncle, two of his rivals with whom he had never managed to match his dogs. “Well, they’ll cut my Milka out of my ears!” he thought, moving towards the hare next to his uncle and Ilagin.
Seasoned? - Ilagin asked, moving towards the suspicious hunter and looking around, not without excitement, and whistling to Erza.
And you, Mikhail Nikanorych? - he turned to his uncle. The uncle rode, frowning.
Why should I meddle, because yours are a pure march! - in the village they pay for the dog, your thousands. You try on yours, and I’ll take a look!
Scold! On, on,” he shouted. “Swearing!” - he added, involuntarily using this diminutive to express his tenderness and hope placed in this red dog. Natasha saw and felt the excitement hidden by these two old men and her brother and was worried herself.
The hunter stood on the half-hill with a raised arapnik, the gentlemen approached him at a step; the hounds, walking on the very horizon, turned away from the hare; the hunters, not the gentlemen, also drove away. Everything moved slowly and sedately.
Where does your head lie? - Nikolai asked, approaching a hundred paces towards the suspicious hunter.
But before the hunter had time to respond, the hare, sensing the frost by tomorrow morning, could not stand still and jumped up. A pack of hounds, on bows, rushed downhill after the hare with a roar; from all sides the greyhounds, who were not in the pack, rushed at the hounds and the hare. All these slow-moving hunter-gatherers shouting: stop! knocking down the dogs, the greyhounds shout: oh-too! guiding the dogs, they galloped across the field. Calm Ilagin, Nikolai, Natasha and uncle flew, not knowing how or where, seeing only dogs and a hare and only afraid of losing sight of the course of the persecution even for a moment. The hare was seasoned and playful. Jumping up, he did not immediately gallop, but moved his ears, listening to the screaming and stomping that suddenly came from all sides. He jumped ten times slowly, allowing the dogs to approach him, and finally, having chosen the direction and realizing the danger, he put his ears to the ground and ran at full speed. He was lying on the stubble, but in front there were green fields through which it was muddy. The two dogs of the suspicious hunter, who were closest, were the first to look and lay after the hare; but they had not yet moved far towards him, when the Ilaginskaya red-spotted Erza flew out from behind them, approached to a dog’s distance, with terrible speed attacked, aiming for the hare’s tail, and, thinking that she had grabbed it, rolled head over heels. The hare arched his back and kicked even harder. From behind Erza, wide-bottomed, black-spotted Milka came out and quickly began to sing to the hare.
Sweetie! mother! - Nikolai’s triumphant cry was heard. It seemed that Milka would strike and catch the hare, but she caught up and rushed past. The Rusak moved away. The beautiful Erza swooped in again and hung over the hare’s very tail, trying to grab him by the back thigh, as if not to make a mistake now.
Erzynka! sister! - Ilagin’s voice was heard crying, not his own. Erza did not heed his pleas. At the very moment when one should have expected her to grab the hare, he whirled and rolled out to the line between the greenery and the stubble. Again Erza and Milka, like a drawbar pair, aligned themselves and began to sing to the hare; at the turn it was easier for the hare; the dogs did not approach him so quickly.
Scold! Swearing! Pure march! - he shouted at this time new voice, and Rugai, the uncle’s red, humpbacked dog, stretching out and arching his back, caught up with the first two dogs, moved out from behind them, kicked with terrible selflessness right over the hare, knocked him off the line onto the green, kicked him even more viciously another time on the dirty greenery, drowning up to his knees, and only one could see how he rolled head over heels, getting his back dirty, in the mud, with the hare. The star of dogs surrounded him. A minute later everyone was standing near the crowded dogs. One happy uncle got down and walked away. Shaking the hare so that the blood would drain, he looked around anxiously, running his eyes, unable to find a position for his arms and legs, and said, not knowing to whom or what. thousandths and rubles are pure business,” he said, gasping and looking around angrily, as if scolding someone, as if everyone were his enemies, everyone offended him, and only now he finally managed to justify himself. “Here are the thousandths—pure business.” march!..
Scold me, fuck off! - he said, throwing the severed paw with the earth stuck on it; - deserved it - pure march!
“She got big, she gave three runs on her own,” Nikolai said, also not listening to anyone and not caring whether they listened to him or not.
What a difference this is! - said Ilaginsky the stirrup.
Yes, as soon as I stopped short, every mongrel will catch you from stealing,” he said at the same time.
Ilagin, red, forcibly catching his breath from the galloping and excitement. At the same time, Natasha, without taking a breath, squealed joyfully and enthusiastically so shrilly that her ears were ringing. With this screech she expressed everything that other hunters also expressed in their one-time conversation. And this squeal was so strange that she herself should have been ashamed of this wild squeal and everyone should have been surprised by it if it had been at another time. The uncle himself pulled the hare back, deftly and smartly threw him over the back of the horse, as if reproaching everyone with this throwing, and with such an air that he didn’t even want to talk to anyone, sat on his brown horse and rode away. Everyone except him, sad and offended, left and only long after could they return to their former pretense of indifference. For a long time they looked at the red Rugai, who, with his hunchbacked back stained with mud, rattling his iron, with the calm look of a winner, walked behind the legs of his uncle’s horse.
“Well, I’m just like everyone else when it comes to bullying. Well, just hang in there!” It seemed to Nikolai that the appearance of this dog spoke.
When, long after, the uncle drove up to Nikolai and spoke to him, Nikolai was flattered that his uncle, after everything that had happened, still deigned to speak with him.
Tolstoy worked very carefully on the image of each of his heroes, thinking through the character’s appearance, character, and logic of actions. The author paid especially much attention to his beloved heroine, Natasha Rostova, whose prototype was two women at once: Sofya Andreevna, the writer’s wife, and her sister, Tatyana Bers, who was very friendly with Tolstoy, who confided all her secrets to him. She sang wonderfully, and A.A. Fet, captivated by her voice, dedicated the poem “The Night Was Shining” to her. The garden was full of the moon..." Best Features these extraordinary women are reflected in the image of Natasha.
The scene when, after the hunt, Natasha, Nikolai and Petya went to see their uncle, gives new touches to the portrait of Natasha, paints her from a new, unexpected side. We see her here happy, full of hopes for a quick meeting with Bolkonsky.
The uncle was not rich, but his house was cozy, perhaps because Anisya Fedorovna, the housekeeper, “fat, ruddy, beautiful woman about forty years old, with a double chin and full, rosy lips.” Looking friendly and affectionately at the guests, she brought a treat that “resounded with juiciness, purity, whiteness and a pleasant smile.” Everything was very tasty, and Natasha was only sorry that Petya was sleeping, and her attempts to wake him were useless. “Natasha was so happy in her soul, so happy in this new environment for her, that she was only afraid that the droshky would come for her too soon.”
Natasha was delighted by the sounds of the balalaika coming from the corridor. She even went out there to hear them better: “Just as her uncle’s mushrooms, honey and liqueurs seemed to be the best in the world, so this song seemed to her at that moment the height of musical charm.” But when the uncle himself played the guitar, Natasha’s delight knew no bounds: “Lovely, lovely, uncle! More more!" And she hugged her uncle and kissed him. Her soul, thirsting for new experiences, absorbed everything beautiful that she encountered in life.
The central point of the episode was Natasha's dance. The uncle invites her to dance, and Natasha, overwhelmed with joy, not only does not force herself to beg, as any other society young lady would do, but immediately “threw off the scarf that was thrown over her, ran ahead of her uncle and, propping her hands up in sides, made a movement with her shoulders and stood.” Nikolai, looking at his sister, is a little afraid that she will do something wrong. But this fear soon passed, because Natasha, Russian in spirit, felt perfectly and knew what to do. “Where, how, when did this countess, raised by a French emigrant, suck into herself from that Russian air that she breathed, this spirit, where did she get these techniques that pas de chale should have long ago been supplanted? But the spirit and techniques were the same, inimitable, unstudied, Russian, which her uncle expected from her.” Natasha’s dance delights everyone who sees her, because Natasha is inextricably linked with the life of the people, she is natural and simple, like the people: “She did the same thing and so precisely, so accurately did it that Anisya Feodorovna, who immediately gave her the necessary handkerchief for her work, she shed tears through laughter, looking at this thin, graceful, so alien to her, brought up in silk and velvet, countess, who knew how to understand everything that was in Anisya, and in Anisya’s father, and in her aunt, and in mother, and in every Russian person."
Admiring his niece, the uncle says that she needs to choose a groom. And here the tone of the passage changes somewhat. After causeless joy comes a thought: “What did Nikolai’s smile mean when he said: “already chosen”? Is he happy about this or not? He seems to think that my Bolkonsky would not approve, would not understand this joy of ours. No, he would understand everything.” Yes, the Bolkonsky that Natasha created in her imagination would understand everything, but the point is that she doesn’t really know him. “My Bolkonsky,” Natasha thinks and imagines not the real Prince Andrei with his exorbitant pride and isolation from people, but the ideal that she invented.
When they came for the young Rostovs, the uncle said goodbye to Natasha “with completely new tenderness.”
On the way home, Natasha is silent. Tolstoy asks the question: “What was going on in this childishly receptive soul, which so greedily caught and assimilated all the diverse impressions of life? How did it all fit into her? But she was very happy."
Nikolai, who is so spiritually close to her that he guesses her thoughts, understands what she thinks about Prince Andrei. Natasha so wants him to be nearby, to imbue her with feelings. She understands that it was the happiest day of her life: “I know that I will never be as happy and calm as I am now.”
In this episode we see all the charm of Natasha’s soul, her childish spontaneity, naturalness, simplicity, her openness and gullibility, and we become scared for her, because she has yet to encounter deception and betrayal, and she will never again experience that elation. , which brought joy not only to her, but to all the people around her.
called war and peace. Tolstoy’s views on war. (3 sentences approximately)
2) the main part (the main image of the war of 1812, the thoughts of the heroes, war and nature, the participation in the war of the main characters (Rostov, Bezukhov, Bolkonsky), the role of commanders in the war, how the army behaves.
3) conclusion, conclusion.
Please help, I just read it a long time ago, but now I didn’t have time to read it. PLEASE HELP
Questions about the novel "War and Peace" 1.Which of the heroes of the novel "War and Peace" is the bearer of the theory of non-resistance?2.Which member of the Rostov family in the novel “War and Peace” wanted to give carts for the wounded?
3.What does the author compare the evening in Anna Pavlovna Scherer’s salon in the novel “War and Peace” to?
4.Who is part of the family of Prince Vasily Kuragin in the novel “War and Peace”?
5. Having returned home from captivity, Prince Andrei comes to the idea that “happiness is only the absence of these two evils.” Which ones exactly?
tried to despise her; but now he felt so sorry for her that there was no room for reproach in his soul. - He is here now, tell him... so that he just... forgives me. - She stopped and began to breathe even more often, but did not cry. “Yes... I’ll tell him,” Pierre said, “but...” He didn’t know what to say. Natasha, apparently, was frightened by the thought that could come to Pierre. “No, I know it’s over,” she said hastily. - No, this can never happen. I am tormented only by the evil that I did to him. Just tell him that I ask him to forgive, forgive, forgive me for everything... - She shook all over and sat down on a chair. A never-before-experienced feeling of pity filled Pierre’s soul. “Let’s say no more, my friend,” said Pierre. His meek, gentle, sincere voice suddenly seemed so strange to Natasha. He took and kissed her hand. “Stop it, stop it, your whole life is ahead of you,” he told her. - For me? No! “Everything is lost for me,” she said with shame and self-humiliation. - Everything is lost? - he repeated. - If I were not me, but the most beautiful, smartest and best person in the world and if I were free, I would be on my knees right now asking for your hand and love. For the first time after many days, Natasha cried with tears of gratitude and tenderness and, looking at Pierre, left the room. Answer the following questions: 1) how does Pierre Bezukhov feel about Natasha Rostova? 2) why would Bezukhov marry her? 2) what feelings are reflected in this fragment? please give me complete answers, I really need it...
In the section on the question, analysis of the episode "hunting in Otradnoye" in the novel war peace given by the author Victor Chaiko the best answer is Preparations for the hunt were always thorough and serious. L.N. Tolstoy names the exact number of dogs that were accompanied by twenty mounted hunters. On the road, a distant relative, a poor neighbor of the Rostovs, was met. Immediately the hounds “were united into one pack, and uncle and Nikolai rode side by side.” Each of the characters has their own approach to this fun. Count Ilya Andreevich was not a hunter by heart...
<...>
Part four of the second volume is entirely devoted to man in nature. Tolstoy draws with love autumn nature. This is how he writes: “The peaks and forests, which at the end of August were still green islands between the black fields of winter crops and stubble, became golden and bright red islands in the midst of bright green winter crops.” Nature in the novel is most often associated with Tolstoy’s favorite heroes - the Bolkonskys and Rostovs. Here too, on the hunt, Nikolai Rostov and Natasha “are seized by causeless joy.” Connects with nature through nature people's world. Everything he saw during the hunt and with his uncle in the village evoked his highest assessment: “Lovely! “In nature, she and Nikolai forget that there is grief, suffering, and misfortune in the world. Returning from his uncle, it says: “I know that never again will I be as happy and calm as I am now.” A feeling of anxiety grows in her.
