A very kind and instructive tale "The Competition" was written by Vikenty Veresaev not in his youth. It is dedicated to the eternal theme of world art - beauty. The author gives his reader, both a very young and an already mature adult, a moral lesson in relation to beauty, shows what beauty is for a person.
The story is based on the story of the competition between two artists of different generations. They were given time to paint a picture depicting the beauty of a woman. One of them - Twice - Crowned, universally recognized master, Teacher. The second is his student Unicorn. The winner was entitled to a generous reward and the title Thrice - Crowned.
The teacher, and not only him, but the townspeople were sure that only he was able to cope with such a task. Twice - the Crowned One chose the path of searching for incredible beauty, “imprinted in a female image”, he traveled half the world until he found his ideal. The main thing for him was ideal female forms and a beautiful face.
The unicorn, by the time the competition was announced, had a beloved Dawn, whose beauty seemed to him ideal, and he put her portrait on public display.
And then the moment came when the people gathered in the square were ready to evaluate the proposed work. The portrait of the “radiant Violet” shocked the public, people have not seen such beauty until now. But this beauty plunged them into melancholy: men suddenly saw all the imperfection of their wives, and thought with horror how they could live with such ugly women.
The portrait of Zorka caused laughter at first, the girl had a completely ordinary appearance, which, of course, faded compared to the previous portrait. The unicorn was almost stoned, but suddenly the audience saw Zorka's eyes, the light of love and kindness coming from them. Everyone suddenly saw what the artist in love saw, the girl glows from the inside, and this inner light of hers lit up the faces of those present. Their faces became beautiful. And the husbands calmed down, they realized that they live with beautiful women, and beauty is next to them and in themselves ...
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I
When the competition was announced, no one in the city doubted that only the Twice-Crowned One, a world-famous artist, the pride of the city, was capable of completing the task. And only he himself felt some fear in his soul: he knew the strength of the young Unicorn, his student.
Heralds walked around the city and in habitually loud voices announced at the crossroads the decision of the people's assembly that had taken place: to appoint a competition for a picture depicting the beauty of a woman; this picture, of enormous size, will be erected in the central niche of the portico on the Square of Beauty, so that everyone passing from afar can see the picture and tirelessly praise the creator for the joy he has given to the world.
Exactly one year later, in the month of grapes, the paintings should be exhibited at the national court. Whose picture will be worthy to adorn the best square of the great city, he will be rewarded more generously than the kings once rewarded: a triple laurel wreath will adorn his head, and the name of the winner will be - Thrice-Crowned.
So the heralds called out at the crossroads and markets of the city, and the Twice-crowned, in a traveling hat and with a knapsack behind his shoulders, with a dogwood stick in his hand and with gold in his belt, was already leaving the city. His gray beard moved in the wind, his large, always yearning eyes looked up into the mountains, where a rocky road rose between the vineyards.
He went to search the world for the highest Beauty, imprinted in a female image.
At the hut behind the wattle fence, a black-haired young man was chopping brushwood on a stump of a hornbeam with an axe. He saw the traveler, straightened up, brushed back his curls from his tanned face, and gleefully flashed his teeth and the whites of his eyes.
- Teacher, rejoice! he cheerfully greeted the traveler.
- Rejoice, my son! - answered the Twice-crowned and recognized the Unicorn, his beloved student.
You are on a long journey, teacher. You have a hat on your head and a knapsack on your shoulders, and your sandals are made of heavy buff leather. Where are you going? Come under my roof, my father, we will drink with you a mug of good wine, so that I wish you a happy journey.
And with great haste answered the Twice-crowned:
“Willingly, my son!
The unicorn drove the shining ax into the stump with a flourish and shouted, exulting:
- Dawn! Hurry over here! Bring us the best wine, cheese, grapes! .. Great joy descends on our house: my teacher comes to me!
They sat down in front of the hut, in the shade of the vines, which hung their black bunches over their heads. Glancing at the great man with timid reverence, Dawn placed on the table a jug of wine, wooden plates with cheese, grapes and bread.
And the Unicorn asked:
Where are you going, teacher?
The Twice-crowned man set down his mug and looked at him in surprise.
“Haven’t you heard what the heralds have been shouting about in the squares and crossroads of the city for the third day?
- Heard.
“And…thinking of entering the competition?”
- Yes teacher. I know that I will have to fight with you, but such a struggle cannot be offensive to you. I know that the struggle will be difficult, but the artist is not the one who would be afraid of it.
Heralds walked around the town and announced the decision of the people's assembly: to appoint a competition of artists. They must paint a picture depicting the beauty of a woman. The best canvas will be erected on the Beauty Square.
Exactly one year later, in the month of grapes, the paintings should be exhibited at the national court. The head of the winner will be decorated with a triple laurel wreath, and his name will be Thrice-crowned. No one in the city doubted that only the famous artist, Twice-crowned, was capable of completing the task. But he himself was afraid of his talented student, the young Unicorn.
The heralds were still shouting, and the Twice-crowned in travel clothes went out of the city in search of the highest Beauty. At the beginning of the journey, he passed by the hut of the Unicorn. The student invited the teacher to drink a mug of good wine on the road. The wife of the Unicorn Dawn quickly set the table.
The unicorn said that he didn't have to go looking for the beauty. He has already found her - his beloved Dawn. The Twice-Crowned Man calmed down: the only rival, being in love blindness, removed himself from his path.
Twice-crowned moved from city to city, from village to village, swam from island to island. But nowhere did he find the one he was looking for. Time passed, and the artist kept wandering.
It was violet month. The traveler fell asleep on the sandy shore of the bay. Early in the morning he woke up, looked at the mountains and quickly, like a young man, jumped to his feet. A slender, luminous maiden in a wreath of violets was descending from a foothill. The artist's soul exclaimed without hesitation, without question: "It's her!"
It's the month of grapes. Beauty Square was filled with people. In the depths of the square rose two huge rectangles of the same size, hung with linen. Near one stood the Twice-crowned, near the other - the Unicorn.
The elder in the purple cloak pointed with his wand at the picture of the Twice-crowned. The canvas slid down. High above the crowd stood a maiden descending from a height, illuminated by the rising sun, wearing a wreath of violets. No one has ever seen such beauty in the world. Young men and men looked at Violet Crowned, shifted their gaze to their beloved... A general sigh of sacred, great anguish swept over the crowd.
The old man in the red cloak pointed with his wand at the second picture. The cover has fallen. On the bench, clasping her knee with her hands, she sat and looked at the crowd ... Zorka. There was a whistle, screams, laughter. And suddenly it became quiet. Dawn looked ahead. A barely perceptible smile froze on his lips, in his eyes there was bashful fright and blissful bewilderment in front of great happiness. She glowed from within. Joyful, warming light poured from the picture and illuminated everything around. Everyone remembered the best moments of his love ...
The old driver was the first to shout to the whole square: “Let the Unicorn be Thrice-crowned!”.
The kind and instructive tale of V. Veresaev "Competition" is dedicated to one of the eternal themes of world art - beauty. One gets the impression that the writer makes readers think about the question of true beauty, about one that not only pleases the eye, but also fills the human soul with light and love.
Like most fairy tales, The Contest provides an important moral lesson not only to young readers, but to many adults as well. Reflections on human beauty are shown in the story of two artists who take part in a competition. Their task is to portray the highest beauty, captured in a female image.
The plot of "Competition" and analysis of the work
The two main characters of the fairy tale "Competition" depict completely different beauty - and first of all, it becomes clear that beauty largely depends on the perception of a person. But it is not for nothing that Veresaev creates a plot that includes a competition between two different images of female beauty.
With the help of an eloquent contrast between the paintings of the Twice-crowned and his student Unicorn, Veresaev shows the true perception of beauty. For the artist Twice-crowned, the highest beauty lies in the external appearance - and the woman depicted in his picture impresses with her beautiful, impeccable external appearance.
And the artist Unicorn paints a picture of his beloved Zorka, who does not have an impressive appearance - her face is too wide, her eyes are not so set, and her teeth are rarely set. And when the Twice-Crowned One learns that his student Unicorn is painting a picture of the inconspicuous Dawn, he decides that he has already won the competition - and reflects on how love blinds people.
But the paintings are evaluated by the public, which is represented mainly by ordinary people. And most men, looking at the picture of Violet, feel longing, as they compare it with their wives - and cannot believe that they love such simple women.
When the cover falls from the picture of the Unicorn, the crowd at first buzzes in bewilderment and disappointment, but after a short time it subsides. People note the sincerity of Zorka's simplicity, the bewitching sparkle of her eyes, they see that her appearance glows with beauty and supreme love, despite physical inconsistencies.
The natural beauty of Zorka penetrates their souls, and then it becomes clear that only the heart and soul, and not the eyes and mind, can appreciate the greatness of true beauty.
The moral lesson of a fairy tale
Thus, Veresaev reveals the topic of a correct view of human beauty, which cannot lie in the correct section of the eyes and the subtlety of the waist, no, the readers themselves understand that it was the Unicorn who depicted the true beauty - after all, it was seen in Dawn by his loving heart.
Veresaev shows that external beauty is not internal beauty, without which a person cannot be beautiful and happy. And sometimes it is enough just to open your heart and look around carefully to see the deep, real beauty of a person.
Vikenty Vikentievich Veresaev
Competition
When the competition was announced, no one in the city doubted that only the Twice-Crowned Man, a world-famous artist, the pride of the city, was capable of completing the task. And only he himself felt some fear in his soul: he knew the strength of the young Unicorn, his student.
Heralds walked around the city and in habitually loud voices announced at the crossroads the decision of the people's assembly that had taken place: to appoint a competition for a picture depicting the beauty of a woman; this picture, of enormous size, will be erected in the central niche of the portico on the Square of Beauty, so that everyone passing from afar can see the picture and tirelessly praise the creator for the joy he has given to the world.
Exactly one year later, in the month of grapes, the paintings should be exhibited at the national court. Whose picture will be worthy to adorn the best square of the great city, he will be rewarded more generously than the kings once rewarded: a triple laurel wreath will adorn his head, and the name of the winner will be Thrice-crowned.
So the heralds called out at the crossroads and markets of the city, and the Twice-crowned, in a traveling hat and with a knapsack behind his shoulders, with a dogwood stick in his hand and with gold in his belt, was already leaving the city. His gray beard moved in the wind, his large, always yearning eyes looked up into the mountains, where a rocky road rose between the vineyards.
He went to search the world for the highest Beauty, imprinted by the creator in a female form.
At the hut behind the wattle fence, a black-haired young man was chopping brushwood on a stump of a hornbeam with an axe. He saw the traveler, straightened up, brushed back his curls from his tanned face, and gleefully flashed his teeth and the whites of his eyes.
Teacher, rejoice! he cheerfully greeted the traveler.
Rejoice, my son! - answered the Twice-crowned and recognized the Unicorn, his beloved student.
You are on a long journey, teacher. You have a hat on your head and a knapsack on your shoulders, and your sandals are made of heavy buff leather. Where are you going? Come under my roof, my father, we will drink with you a mug of good wine, so that I wish you a happy journey.
And with great haste answered the Twice-crowned:
Willingly, my son!
The unicorn drove the shining ax into the stump with a flourish and shouted, exulting:
Dawn! Hurry over here! Bring us the best wine, cheese, grapes! .. Great joy descends on our house: my teacher comes to me!
They sat down in front of the hut, in the shade of the vines, which hung their black bunches over their heads. Glancing at the great man with timid reverence, Dawn placed on the table a jug of wine, wooden plates with cheese, grapes and bread.
And the Unicorn asked:
Where are you going, teacher?
The Twice-crowned man set down his mug and looked at him in surprise.
Haven't you heard what the heralds are shouting for the third day in the squares and crossroads of the city?
And… are you thinking of entering the competition?
Yes teacher. I know that I will have to fight with you, but such a struggle cannot be offensive to you. I know that the struggle will be difficult, but the artist is not the one who would be afraid of it.
I thought so. I also know that the struggle will be difficult and it will not be easy to defeat you. When are you on your way?
How where? Search for that higher Beauty, which must exist somewhere. Look for her, no matter who she was invested in - whether in a proud princess, in a wild shepherdess, in a brave fisherwoman, or in a quiet daughter of a vinedresser.
The unicorn chuckled lightly.
I already found her.
The heart of the Twice-crowned One began to beat with slow, strong jolts, there was little air in his chest, and his gray-haired head trembled. He cautiously asked, not hoping to get a truthful answer:
Where did you find her?
And here she is!
And the Unicorn pointed to Dawn, his beloved. His gaze was straight, and there was no slyness in it.
The Twice-Crowned One looked at him in amazement.
The old man's head stopped trembling, and his heart began to beat evenly. And the feeling of a teacher spoke in him.
My son! Your beloved is sweet, I do not argue. Happy is he whose neck is embraced by these slender golden arms, to whose breast this lovely breast is pressed. But consider whether this is the beauty that should overthrow the world before it.
Yes, exactly the same one. There is no beauty in the world and cannot be higher than the beauty of my golden Dawn, - said the Unicorn enthusiastically.
And for a moment the doubt of the Twice-Crowned Man took over: had his experienced eye deceived him, had he overlooked something in this girl, standing downcast in the hot shade of the vines? Carefully and searchingly, he looked at her. An ordinary girl, of which dozens can be found everywhere. Broad face, slightly slanted eyes, slightly sparsely set teeth. The eyes are cute, big, but there is nothing special about them ... How blind are lovers!
A jubilant laugh filled his chest, but his face remained serious. He stood up and, hiding his slyness, said:
Maybe you are right. Blessed are you that you found so close what I have to look for so far and for a long time ... Rejoice! And you rejoice, happy among the virgins!
When the Twice-Crowned Man stepped out onto the road, he breathed a sigh of relief and calmness: the only dangerous rival himself, in his love blindness, removed himself from his path. The old man's back straightened, and, shortening the path, he cheerfully walked uphill along the white stones of the bed of a dried-up mountain stream.
Twice-crowned moved from city to city, from village to village, swam from island to island. Not knowing fatigue, he searched for a maiden in whom nature had invested her best beauty. He searched in vineyards and fishermen's huts, in temples and bazaars, in the villas of noblemen, in the palaces of eastern kings. His glorious name opened all doors for him, made him a welcome guest everywhere. But nowhere did he find the one he was looking for.
Once, in the month of the winds, across the sea, he saw an eastern princess riding on mules at the city gates and stopped and for a minute looked eagerly at her sparkling beauty.
And thought hesitantly:
"Maybe she?"
But at once he overcame himself, turned away and resolutely walked on.
- May be? So it's not her... True beauty is like a firefly, he told himself. - When you look for fireflies in the forest at night, it often happens: you suddenly stop - “Stop! Looks like a firefly!" It seems?.. Don't stop, move on. It is a pebble or an anemone flower that turns white in the dark; When a firefly shines with its clear light, piercing the darkness, then you don’t ask yourself, then you say directly and confidently: this is it!
Month followed month. The equinoctial storms were noisy on the sea, leaves were falling from oaks. The sun began to go lower and deeper, to look deeper into the windows of the huts. Misty shadows crept over the waves of the cooling sea. The mountains put white hats on their heads, an icy wind drove dry, rustling snow through the valleys. And the sun began to rise again. Before the morning dawn, the celestial Sagittarius ran out from behind the mountains and aimed an arrow at the curved back of the sparkling Scorpio. Warmed up more.
And the Twice-crowned wandered.
It was violet month. The traveler settled down for the night on the sandy shore of the bay. He drank wine from a flask, nibbled on a piece of stale barley bread with sheep's cheese, made himself a bed: he piled up an elevation of sea sand for a headboard, spread out his hairy cloak and bowed his head on the bed.
There was fatigue in the body, despair in the soul. Never, never, it seemed to him, would he find what he was looking for. He won't find it because he can't find it.
From the midday side, from the mountains, a warm wind blew, and all of it was saturated with the smell of violets. There, on the mountain passes, forest clearings are covered with continuous carpets of violets. Tonight he walked along the path along these passes and admired everything that was around, and inhaled the chaste smells of early spring. And now, when twilight covered the mountains, when the scent of violets wafted in the warm wind from afar, it seemed to him: everything was more beautiful, more mysterious and deeper than he could see up close. And it goes there, and again beauty will move away, and again it will be good, but not that ... What kind of witchcraft is this in world beauty, that it always eludes man, is always inaccessible and incomprehensible and does not fit entirely into any forms of nature?
The Twice-Crowned One looked back at everything that he had done in his life, which made him glorious to the whole world, and leaned his face against the headboard. He felt disgusted and ashamed of his clumsy allusions to that great and incomprehensible thing that hovered before his longing eyes and which he had never been able to translate into forms and colors.
So he fell asleep, burying his face in his hard cloak. A warm wind, saturated with the scent of violets, kept blowing from the mountains, and the eternally yearning sea that did not know calmness sighed along the shore.
