Tanya, a seventeen-year-old village girl with a simple, pretty face and gray peasant eyes, serves as a maid for the small landowner Kazakova. From time to time, her relative Peter visits the landowner. At first he hardly notices Tanya.
In that distant time, he spent himself especially recklessly, led a wandering life, had many random love meetings and relationships - and he treated his relationship with her as if it were random...
One autumn, Peter visits Kazakova on his way from Crimea to Moscow. He first really notices Tanya when the girl makes his bed.
Waking up at night, Peter leaves the house through the back hallway, where the door of the servants' room opens. The door is slightly open, the man notices Tanya sleeping on the bed “in only a shirt and a cotton skirt” with her legs bare to the knees, and approaches her. Peter kisses her hot cheek, she does not respond, and he takes this as consent. There is intimacy between them.
Having woken up, Tanya for a long time cannot believe what happened to her, and Peter for a long time cannot believe that Tanya was really asleep.
She... cried for several days, but every day she became more and more convinced that it was not grief that had happened, but happiness, that he was becoming sweeter and dearer to her.
The next intimacy occurs between them when Peter takes Tanya from the station - Kazakova sent the girl to the city for shopping. After this, Tanya completely reconciles herself with her situation, and in moments of intimacy, which happen more and more often, she calls him Petrusha. He, too, becomes more and more attached to the girl who gave him such unexpected happiness.
They meet secretly - Tanya is afraid that the old maid will find out about everything and will make her famous throughout the village.
Peter constantly postpones his departure. Tanya knows that he stays with Kazakova only because of her, and gradually becomes more and more confident. One day they spend most of the night together. Peter tells Tanya that he is going to leave - he has business in Moscow, but he will definitely come by Christmas. He doesn’t want to take her with him, justifying himself by saying that he lives in rooms and is not born for family life at all.
Two days later Peter leaves.
Both the house and the entire estate were empty, they died. And there was no way to imagine Moscow and him in it, his life there, his business there.
He doesn't show up for Christmas. For some reason, Tanya greedily believes that Peter will come to Epiphany, and throughout the holiday she goes “in her best attire - in that dress and those ankle boots in which he met her then in the fall, at the station, on that unforgettable evening.” But Peter is still not there. In the evening, Tanya tells herself that it’s all over, he will never come, and she has nothing to wait anymore.
Peter arrives in February - by that time Tanya had lost all hope of seeing him. He is amazed to see how thin and faded she has become. He also seems to her “old, alien and even unpleasant.” However, everything is gradually returning to its previous rut.
On the eve of his next departure, Tanya tells Peter that he no longer loves her and only “ruined her for nothing.”
Again these warm children's tears on a child's hot face... She doesn't even suspect the full strength of my love for her!
She understands how much she has changed, but he begins to warmly console her, promising that he will certainly come and spend the whole summer with her. Tanya gradually calms down and begins to believe in his love again.
Tanya does not know that she is seeing him for the last time - “it was in February of the terrible year of seventeen.”
Ivan Bunin
Tanya felt cold and woke up.
Freeing her hands from the blanket in which she had awkwardly wrapped herself at night, Tanka stretched out, took a deep breath and shrank again. But it was still cold. She rolled up to the very “head” of the stove and pressed Vaska to it. He opened his eyes and looked as brightly as only healthy children look from sleep. Then he turned on his side and fell silent. Tanka also began to doze off. But the door to the hut knocked: the mother, rustling, was dragging an armful of straw out of the hay.
- Is it cold, auntie? – asked the wanderer, lying on the horse.
“No,” answered Marya, “fog.” And the dogs are lying around, which is sure to lead to a blizzard.
She was looking for matches and rattling her grips.
The wanderer lowered his feet from the bunk, yawned and put on his shoes. The cold bluish light of the morning glimmered through the windows; under the bench a lame drake, awakened, hissed and quacked. The calf stood up on weak, splayed legs, convulsively stretched out its tail, and muttered so stupidly and abruptly that the wanderer laughed and said:
- Orphan! Did you lose the cow?
- Sold.
- And there’s no horse?
- Sold.
Tanya opened her eyes.
The sale of the horse was particularly etched in her memory. “When they were still digging potatoes,” on a dry, windy day, the mother was half-hearted in the field, crying and saying that “the piece didn’t go down her throat,” and Tanka kept looking at her throat, not understanding what the fuss was about.
Then the “Anchichrists” arrived in a large, strong cart with a high front end. Both of them looked alike - black, greasy, belted over their rumps. Another one came after them, even blacker, with a stick in his hand, shouted something loudly, and a little later he took the horse out of the yard and ran with it across the pasture; His father ran after him, and Tanka thought that he ran to take the horse away, caught up and took it into the yard again. The mother stood on the threshold of the hut and cried. Looking at her, Vaska also roared at the top of his lungs... Then the “black” again took the horse out of the yard, tied it to a cart and trotted down the hill... And the father no longer chased...
The “Anchichrists”, the bourgeois horsemen, were, indeed, fierce in appearance, especially the last one, Taldykin. He came later, and before him the first two only brought down the price. They vied with each other to torture the horse, tore its face, and beat it with sticks.
“Well,” one shouted, “look here, get some money!”
“They’re not mine, take care, you don’t have to take half price,” Korney answered evasively.
- But what is half the price, if, for example, the filly is more years old than you and me? Pray to God!
“There’s no point in talking,” Korney objected absentmindedly.
It was then that Taldykin came, a healthy, fat tradesman with the physiognomy of a pug: shiny, angry black eyes, the shape of his nose, cheekbones - everything about him reminded him of this dog breed.
- What’s all the noise, but there’s no fight? - he said, entering and smiling, if flaring nostrils can be called a smile.
He walked up to the horse, stopped and was silent for a long time, looking at it indifferently. Then he turned around, casually said to his comrades: “Hurry up, it’s time to go, I’ll wait for the rain in the pasture,” and went to the gate.
Korney hesitantly called out:
- Why didn’t you look at the horse?
Taldykin stopped.
“It’s not worth a long look,” he said.
- Come on, let’s have some fun...
Taldykin came up and made lazy eyes.
He suddenly hit the horse under the belly, pulled its tail, felt under its shoulder blades, sniffed its hand and walked away.
- Bad? – trying to joke, asked Korney.
Taldykin chuckled:
- Long-lived?
- The horse is not old.
- Tak. So the first head is on its shoulders?
Korney was confused.
Taldykin quickly thrust his fist into the corner of the horse’s lips, glanced as if briefly at its teeth and, wiping his hand on the floor, asked mockingly and quickly:
- So not old? Didn’t your grandfather go to get married to her?... Well, it’ll do for us, get eleven yellow ones.
And, without waiting for Korney’s answer, he took out the money and took the horse by the turn.
- Pray to God and put half a bottle.
- What are you, what are you? – Korney was offended. - You are without a cross, uncle!
- What? - Taldykin exclaimed menacingly, - were you crazy? Don't you want money? Take it while you catch a fool, take it, they tell you!
- What kind of money is this?
- The kind you don’t have.
- No, it’s better not to...
“Well, after a certain number of days you’ll give it back for seven, you’ll give it back with pleasure, trust your conscience...”
Korney walked away, took an ax and with a businesslike look began to hew a pillow under the cart.
Then they tried the horse on the pasture... And no matter how cunning Korney was, no matter how much he restrained himself, he did not win back!
When October came and white flakes began to flicker and fall in the air, blue from the cold, covering the pasture, the vines and the rubble of the hut, Tanka had to be surprised at her mother every day.
It used to be that with the beginning of winter, true torment began for all the children, stemming, on the one hand, from the desire to run away from the hut, run waist-deep in snow across the meadow and, rolling on their feet on the first blue ice of the pond, hit it with sticks and listen, how he gurgles, and on the other hand - from the menacing shouts of his mother:
- Where are you going? Chicher, it’s cold - and she’s mowing! With the boys to the pond! Now climb onto the stove, otherwise you’ll look at me, little demon!
Sometimes, with sadness, I had to be content with the fact that a cup of steaming crumbly potatoes and a hunk of thickly salted bread, smelling like a cage, was put on the stove. Now the mother did not give any bread or potatoes in the morning, and when asked about this she answered:
- Go, I’ll get you dressed, go to the pond, baby!
Last winter, Tanka and even Vaska went to bed late and could calmly enjoy sitting on the “rough” stove even until midnight. The air in the hut was steamy and thick; A light bulb without glass was burning on the table, and the soot, like a dark, trembling wick, reached right up to the ceiling. My father was sitting near the table, sewing sheepskin coats; the mother mended shirts or knitted mittens; her inclined face was at that time meek and affectionate. In a quiet voice she sang “old” songs that she had heard as a girl, and Tanka often wanted to cry from them. In a dark hut, covered in snow blizzards, Marya remembered her youth, remembered the hot hayfields and evening dawns, when she walked in a crowd of girls along a field road with ringing songs, and behind the rust the sun went down and its dying reflection fell like golden dust through the ears... She spoke in songs daughter, that she too will have the same dawns, that everything that passes so quickly and for a long time will be replaced for a long time by village grief and care...
When her mother was getting ready for dinner, Tanka, wearing only a long shirt, would tear it off the stove and, often shuffling her bare feet, run to the bunk, to the table. Here she, like an animal, squatted down and quickly caught some salsa in the thick stew and snacked on cucumbers and potatoes. Fat Vaska ate slowly and rolled his eyes, trying to fit a big spoon into his mouth... After dinner, with a tight stomach, she just as quickly ran to the stove, fought for space with Vaska, and, when one frosty night dregs looked through the dark windows, she fell asleep in a sweet dream under the prayerful whisper of the mother: “God's saints, the merciful Saint Nikola, the pillar of protection of people, Mother Holy Friday - pray to God for us! Cross in our heads, cross at our feet, cross from the evil one..."
Now the mother put her to bed early, said that there was no dinner, and threatened to “gouge out her eyes” and “give her to the blind in a bag” if she, Tanka, did not sleep. Tanka often roared and asked for “at least some caps,” while the calm, mocking Vaska lay there, kicking his legs up and scolding his mother.
“Here’s the brownie,” he said seriously, “go to sleep and sleep!” Let dad wait!
Dad left Kazanskaya, was at home only once, said that there was “trouble” everywhere - they don’t make sheepskin coats, more people die - and he only does repairs here and there for rich men. True, that time they ate herrings, and my dad even brought “such and such a piece” of salted pike perch in a rag: “I was at the kstiny, he says, the day before, so I hid it for you guys...” But when my dad left, there was almost nothing to eat stopped...
The wanderer put on his shoes, washed, and prayed to God; His broad back in a greasy caftan, similar to a cassock, bent only at the waist; he crossed himself widely. Then he combed his wedge beard and drank from the bottle he took out of his backpack. Instead of a snack, I lit a cigarette. His washed face was wide, yellow and dense, his nose was turned up, his eyes looked sharp and surprised.
“Well, auntie,” he said, “are you burning the straw for nothing and not making the brew?”
- What should I cook? – Marya asked abruptly.
- Like what? Oh, nothing?
“Here’s a brownie…” muttered Vaska.
Marya looked at the stove:
- Ai woke up?
Vaska snorted calmly and evenly.
Tanka snorted.
“They’re sleeping,” Marya said, sat up and lowered her head.
The wanderer looked at her from under his brows for a long time and said:
- There’s no point in grieving, auntie.
Marya was silent.
“Nothing,” repeated the wanderer. – God will give the day, God will give food. I, brother, have no shelter, no home, I make my way along banks and meadows, boundaries and borders - and along the backyards - and wow... Eh, you didn’t spend the night in the snow under a broom bush - that’s what!
“You didn’t spend the night either,” Marya suddenly answered sharply, and her eyes sparkled, “with hungry children, didn’t hear how they scream in their sleep from hunger!” This is what I give them now, how will they get up? She ran around all the yards before dawn - she asked by Christ the God, she got one edge... and then, thank you, Kozel gave it... he himself, he says, didn’t have any frills left on his bast shoes... But I feel sorry for the guys - they’ve worn out the decoration...
The story “Tanka” was first published in 1893 in the magazine “Russian Wealth”. Its author was the then little-known Ivan Alekseevich Bunin. If we analyze this work, we will see the following. The genre is short story. The story is told to us in prose. The story is built on an antithesis; the lives of peasants and landowners are contrasted here. The images of the characters are drawn clearly and clearly. The style of the work is narrative.
This story raises the problem of the Russian peasantry. This question acutely worried the Russian intelligentsia of that time. The recent reform made the situation of the peasants even worse, and this could not help but worry Bunin. In the story, poor, emaciated people, exhausted by poverty and hunger, dream of only one thing - a piece of bread, an onion or potatoes with salt. But the peasants show patience, stoicism, and submission to fate. What is surprising in their actions is their faith in God, moral purity, as well as their statements of regret about their past life.
The story “Tanka” talks about a peasant family in which two children live - Vaska and Tanka. The family is in need, the children have nothing to eat. Even though the parents sold the cow, and then the horse, the situation did not improve. Therefore, Marya, the mother of the children, sends them out into the street early in the morning and puts them to bed early in the evening. She does this so that the children do not ask for food. It breaks her heart to see her children starving. Tanka, for example, is surprised when her mother tells her that “the piece won’t go down my throat.” How this can be, the girl does not understand. When your stomach is swollen from hunger, you seem ready to eat anything. But the mother says this for a completely different reason.
The plot is based on the fact that a gentleman appears in the story, who takes the girl to his house, leads her through his rooms, treats her with prunes and sugar, shows her how the clock plays and even sings her songs with a guitar. The image of the landowner Pavel Antonovich is written out laconically, his behavior is explained. The master is lonely, this evokes sympathy. And the landowner was sincerely glad when Tanka appeared in his house. At the same time, the landowner is strict, since he directs the driver to walk along the winter road to look for the whip lost along the way.
But he is not an evil person. Yes, he is stingy, but he became that way when he had to raise the economy alone, after the reform, because his serfs left. He also remained alone. His wife died and his son was sent into exile in Siberia. Pavel Antonovich became a recluse. His life is not sweet either, which is probably why when he saw Tanka standing on the street, something in his chest sank and he took her with him. And he was glad when he saw how she smiled at his home.
But the most important thing is that Tanka was also happy that evening. In the midst of a miserable, hard life, this event was like a ray of light for her. Apparently that’s why, when the landowner was taking her back home, she had an amazing dream. Everything was good about him and everyone was happy. The story seems simple, but it makes you look at life differently and think about it.
There are also other works on Bunin on the site:
- Analysis of the story “Easy Breathing”
- “Dark Alleys”, analysis of Bunin’s story
- Brief summary of Bunin’s work “Caucasus”
Tanka
Shows hunger and impoverishment in the village in winter. Tanka, a little girl, sleeps on the stove with her brother Vaska (their father Korney and mother Marya). The family was forced to sell the cow and the horse for next to nothing. But there is still nothing to eat and nothing to feed the children. Therefore, the mother sends the children for a walk outside (to the pond) in the morning, and puts them to bed early in the evening so that they don’t ask for food. Marya herself is heartbroken with pain, and she tells about the plight of the situation to the wanderer who spent the night in their house. The way her mother “voiced” was heard by Tanka, who woke up from the cold.
She decides to immediately run outside on a winter morning so that her mother does not cry. The frozen master, Pavel Antonich, picks her up and takes her to visit him (he is an old man, a zealous owner, his wife died, he had to let the serfs go, his student son was exiled to Siberia, i.e. the master is lonely). He wanted to warm and feed the frozen child. Pavel Antonich showed Tanka how the clock played, gave her tea with milk, and sang songs to her with a guitar. At the same time, he thinks about the future that awaits her, thinks about the starving people in the villages. In the evening he takes Tanka home in a sleigh. She has a dream about a garden, stars, Vaska, a clock, and her mother.
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The village girl Tanka wakes up from the cold. The mother has already stood up and is rattling her arms. The wanderer who spent the night in their hut is also not sleeping. He begins to question Tanka, and the girl says that they had to sell a cow and a horse, only one calf remained.
The sale of the horse is especially etched in Tanka’s memory. She remembers how her father bargained for a long time with the gloomy bourgeois horse owners, sold the horse for next to nothing, then with difficulty let the wet nurse out of the yard, and her mother cried for a long time, standing in the middle of the hut.
Then October came, the frosts hit, and “Tanka had to be surprised at her mother every day.” Last winter Tanka and even her younger brother Vaska went to bed late and warmed themselves on the stove. Father was sewing sheepskin coats near the table, mother was mending shirts or knitting mittens. In a quiet voice she sang “old” songs, which often made Tanka want to cry.
That winter, children were not often allowed out of the hut. When they asked to go to the pond, their mother would cajole them with a cup of hot potatoes and a slice of heavily salted bread, and for dinner they always had thick stew with pieces of lard.
Now the mother does not give any bread or potatoes in the morning, she dresses the children and sends them to the pond herself. In the evening she puts Tanka and Vaska to bed early, and when they start asking for food, she says that there is nothing for dinner.
My father had long gone to work, was at home only once, said that there was “trouble” everywhere - they didn’t make sheepskin coats, and he only repaired them here and there for rich men. Only once did my father bring herring and even a piece of salted pike perch. When my father left again, we stopped eating almost completely.
Tanka pretends to be asleep and hears her mother telling the wanderer about the famine that has gripped the entire area, and cries because the children have nothing to eat. In order not to ask for food and not to upset her mother, Tanka quietly dresses and goes to the pond, intending to return only in the evening.
Light sleighs glide along the road from the city. A gray-haired old man, master Pavel Antonich, is sitting in the sleigh. He has been driving along this road for a long time. After the Crimean campaign, he lost almost his entire fortune at cards and settled in the village forever. But even here he was unlucky - his wife died, he had to release the serfs and accompany his student son to Siberia. Then Pavel Antonich got used to loneliness, took up his meager farming and became known as a greedy and gloomy man.
Noticing that the coachman lost his leather whip on the way, Pavel Antonich sends him on a search and then travels alone. Driving through the village, he notices Tanka, who stands aside and warms her blue hand in her mouth. Pavel Antonich stops, lures the girl into a sleigh and takes her to his estate. He wraps a hungry, cold and ragged child in fur, and his old heart becomes warmer. If the coachman had been nearby, Pavel Antonich would not have dared to do this.
Pavel Antonich takes Tanka through all the rooms of the estate, treats her to prunes, gives several lumps of sugar, which the girl hides for her mother, makes her play the clock and plays the guitar himself. Then they drink tea with milk and pretzels for a long time.
Tanka falls asleep, and Pavel Antonich remembers the neighboring villages, their starving inhabitants, and thinks about what awaits Tanka, the future village beauty. Stepping softly with his felt boots, he approaches, kisses the sleeping girl and looks for a long time at the portrait of his son.
And Tanka dreams of a garden surrounding the estate, and a sleigh running between the trees. Vaska dreams of the music of the clock and the voice of her mother, who is either crying or singing sad old songs.
The story “Tanka” was first published in 1893 in the magazine “Russian Wealth”. Its author was the then little-known Ivan Alekseevich Bunin. If we analyze this work, we will see the following. The genre is short story. The story is told to us in prose. The story is built on an antithesis; the lives of peasants and landowners are contrasted here. The images of the characters are drawn clearly and clearly. The style of the work is narrative.
This story raises the problem of the Russian peasantry. This question acutely worried the Russian intelligentsia of that time. The recent reform made the situation of the peasants even worse, and this could not help but worry Bunin. In the story, poor, emaciated people, exhausted by poverty and hunger, dream of only one thing - a piece of bread, an onion or potatoes with salt. But the peasants show patience, stoicism, and submission to fate. What is surprising in their actions is their faith in God, moral purity, as well as their statements of regret about their past life.
The story “Tanka” talks about a peasant family in which two children live - Vaska and Tanka. The family is in need, the children have nothing to eat. Even though the parents sold the cow, and then the horse, the situation did not improve. Therefore, Marya, the mother of the children, sends them out into the street early in the morning and puts them to bed early in the evening. She does this so that the children do not ask for food. It breaks her heart to see her children starving. Tanka, for example, is surprised when her mother tells her that “the piece won’t go down my throat.” How this can be, the girl does not understand. When your stomach is swollen from hunger, you seem ready to eat anything. But the mother says this for a completely different reason.
The plot is based on the fact that a gentleman appears in the story, who takes the girl to his house, leads her through his rooms, treats her with prunes and sugar, shows her how the clock plays and even sings her songs with a guitar. The image of the landowner Pavel Antonovich is written out laconically, his behavior is explained. The master is lonely, this evokes sympathy. And the landowner was sincerely glad when Tanka appeared in his house. At the same time, the landowner is strict, since he directs the driver to walk along the winter road to look for the whip lost along the way.
But he is not an evil person. Yes, he is stingy, but he became that way when he had to raise the economy alone, after the reform, because his serfs left. He also remained alone. His wife died and his son was sent into exile in Siberia. Pavel Antonovich became a recluse. His life is not sweet either, which is probably why when he saw Tanka standing on the street, something in his chest sank and he took her with him. And he was glad when he saw how she smiled at his home.
But the most important thing is that Tanka was also happy that evening. In the midst of a miserable, hard life, this event was like a ray of light for her. Apparently that’s why, when the landowner was taking her back home, she had an amazing dream. Everything was good about him and everyone was happy. The story seems simple, but it makes you look at life differently and think about it.
There are also other works on Bunin on the site:
- Analysis of the story “Easy Breathing”
- “Dark Alleys”, analysis of Bunin’s story
- Brief summary of Bunin’s work “Caucasus”
- Category: Preparation for the State Examination
Time and history of creation
The story was written in 1892. The writer himself considered this story the beginning of his creative journey.
The setting of the story is a village in winter. Hunger and impoverishment. The little girl Tanka is sleeping on the stove with her brother. The family is starving; they were forced to sell their cow and horse for next to nothing. But still there is nothing to feed the children. The mother sends the children out for a walk in the morning, and in the evening, so as not to ask them to eat, she puts them to bed early. The mother's heart breaks in pain. She tells about the plight of a wanderer who spent the night in their house. Tanka, who woke up from the cold, heard her mother “voice.” Because this sound is unbearable, she decides to run outside on a winter morning. On the street Tanka, dressed in rags, freezes. The master Pavel Antonich picks her up and takes her to visit him. This is a kind old man whose wife died, a zealous owner. He released the serfs. The student son was exiled to Siberia. The master lives alone. He wants to warm and feed a frozen child. Pavel Antonich shows Tanka his watch, gives her tea with milk, and sings her songs with a guitar. He is unbearably sad to see this young and unfortunate creature doomed to poverty. He thinks about her future, about the starving people in the villages. In the evening he takes Tanka home. She feels comfortable and good, she is well-fed and happy, she has a dream about the garden, the stars, Vaska, the clock, her mother.
Poetics, composition, idea
Already in Bunin’s early works, his special style developed: the desire for maximum conciseness of prose, detailed narration, and animation of nature. The writer’s stories belong to the “lyrical essay” genre.
One of the features of Bunin's prose is its lack of plot. But the story “Tanka” cannot be called completely plotless: the composition of the story contains all the epic elements, the work is structured according to the laws of the epic genre (exposition - the story of the sale of a horse, the beginning - Tanka leaving home, the development of the action - Tanka’s meeting with the master Pavel Antonich, the climax - Pavel Antonich's reflection on Tanka's fate, the denouement is Tanka's dream).
But at the same time, there is fragmentation in the story, a quick change of events - this is how the lyrical principle in the story manifests itself along with the epic.
The action begins unexpectedly: “Tanya felt cold and woke up.” The author does not explain who Tanka is or where she is - we immediately enter the narrative. Just as unexpectedly, the story ends, its ending is open: “And Tanka dreamed of a garden through which she drove to her house in the evening. The sleigh ran quietly in the thickets, covered with frost like white fur... She dreamed of Vaska, the clock's roulades, she could hear her mother either crying or singing ancient songs in the dark, smoky hut...”
This technique creates a feeling of fluidity of life, in which there is neither beginning nor end, a small fragment of it is snatched out, the events of which we become witnesses, and everything continues to flow on. Dramatic questions about Tanka's future fate remain unanswered - this is the author's intention, since he is interested in precisely this moment of life.
The detail plays an important role: Taldykin has the “face of a pug,” and the wanderer has a “wedge beard.” The use of contrasts is also important to Bunin. The contrast in the story “Tanka” is not only a device (Tanka and Florence, “blackness” as a characteristic detail in the description of horsemen and Tanka’s “white” dream in the finale) - it is a principle of organization of the text, the first two parts (the world of Marya and Tanka, the wanderer, Korney ) contrast with the last two parts (the world of the master).
The story “Tanka” was first published in 1893 in the magazine “Russian Wealth”. Its author was the then little-known Ivan Alekseevich Bunin. If we analyze this work, we will see the following. The genre is short story. The story is told to us in prose. The story is built on an antithesis; the lives of peasants and landowners are contrasted here. The images of the characters are drawn clearly and clearly. The style of the work is narrative.
This story raises the problem of the Russian peasantry. This question acutely worried the Russian intelligentsia of that time. The recent reform made the situation of the peasants even worse, and this could not help but worry Bunin. In the story, poor, emaciated people, exhausted by poverty and hunger, dream of only one thing - a piece of bread, an onion or potatoes with salt. But the peasants show patience, stoicism, and submission to fate. What is surprising in their actions is their faith in God, moral purity, as well as their statements of regret about their past life.
The story “Tanka” talks about a peasant family in which two children live - Vaska and Tanka. The family is in need, the children have nothing to eat. Even though the parents sold the cow, and then the horse, the situation did not improve. Therefore, Marya, the mother of the children, sends them out into the street early in the morning and puts them to bed early in the evening. She does this so that the children do not ask for food. It breaks her heart to see her children starving. Tanka, for example, is surprised when her mother tells her that “the piece won’t go down my throat.” How this can be, the girl does not understand. When your stomach is swollen from hunger, you seem ready to eat anything. But the mother says this for a completely different reason.
The plot is based on the fact that a gentleman appears in the story, who takes the girl to his house, leads her through his rooms, treats her with prunes and sugar, shows her how the clock plays and even sings her songs with a guitar. The image of the landowner Pavel Antonovich is written out laconically, his behavior is explained. The master is lonely, this evokes sympathy. And the landowner was sincerely glad when Tanka appeared in his house. At the same time, the landowner is strict, since he directs the driver to walk along the winter road to look for the whip lost along the way.
But he is not an evil person. Yes, he is stingy, but he became that way when he had to raise the economy alone, after the reform, because his serfs left. He also remained alone. His wife died and his son was sent into exile in Siberia. Pavel Antonovich became a recluse. His life is not sweet either, which is probably why when he saw Tanka standing on the street, something in his chest sank and he took her with him. And he was glad when he saw how she smiled at his home.
But the most important thing is that Tanka was also happy that evening. In the midst of a miserable, hard life, this event was like a ray of light for her. Apparently that’s why, when the landowner was taking her back home, she had an amazing dream. Everything was good about him and everyone was happy. The story seems simple, but it makes you look at life differently and think about it.
There are also other works on Bunin on the site:
- Analysis of the story “Easy Breathing”
- “Dark Alleys”, analysis of Bunin’s story
- Brief summary of Bunin’s work “Caucasus”
Ivan Bunin
Freeing her hands from the blanket in which she had awkwardly wrapped herself at night, Tanka stretched out, took a deep breath and shrank again. But it was still cold. She rolled up to the very “head” of the stove and pressed Vaska to it. He opened his eyes and looked as brightly as only healthy children look from sleep. Then he turned on his side and fell silent. Tanka also began to doze off. But the door to the hut knocked: the mother, rustling, was dragging an armful of straw out of the hay.
- Is it cold, auntie? – asked the wanderer, lying on the horse.
“No,” answered Marya, “fog.” And the dogs are lying around, which is sure to lead to a blizzard.
She was looking for matches and rattling her grips.
The wanderer lowered his feet from the bunk, yawned and put on his shoes. The cold bluish light of the morning glimmered through the windows; under the bench a lame drake, awakened, hissed and quacked. The calf stood up on weak, splayed legs, convulsively stretched out its tail, and muttered so stupidly and abruptly that the wanderer laughed and said:
- Orphan! Did you lose the cow?
- Sold.
- And there’s no horse?
- Sold.
Tanya opened her eyes.
The sale of the horse was particularly etched in her memory. “When they were still digging potatoes,” on a dry, windy day, the mother was half-hearted in the field, crying and saying that “the piece didn’t go down her throat,” and Tanka kept looking at her throat, not understanding what the fuss was about.
Then the “Anchichrists” arrived in a large, strong cart with a high front end. Both of them looked alike - black, greasy, belted over their rumps. Another one came after them, even blacker, with a stick in his hand, shouted something loudly, and a little later he took the horse out of the yard and ran with it across the pasture; His father ran after him, and Tanka thought that he ran to take the horse away, caught up and took it into the yard again. The mother stood on the threshold of the hut and cried. Looking at her, Vaska also roared at the top of his lungs... Then the “black” again took the horse out of the yard, tied it to a cart and trotted down the hill... And the father no longer chased...
The “Anchichrists”, the bourgeois horsemen, were, indeed, fierce in appearance, especially the last one, Taldykin. He came later, and before him the first two only brought down the price. They vied with each other to torture the horse, tore its face, and beat it with sticks.
“Well,” one shouted, “look here, get some money!”
“They’re not mine, take care, you don’t have to take half price,” Korney answered evasively.
- But what is half the price, if, for example, the filly is more years old than you and me? Pray to God!
“There’s no point in talking,” Korney objected absentmindedly.
It was then that Taldykin came, a healthy, fat tradesman with the physiognomy of a pug: shiny, angry black eyes, the shape of his nose, cheekbones - everything about him reminded him of this dog breed.
- What’s all the noise, but there’s no fight? - he said, entering and smiling, if flaring nostrils can be called a smile.
He walked up to the horse, stopped and was silent for a long time, looking at it indifferently. Then he turned around, casually said to his comrades: “Hurry up, it’s time to go, I’ll wait for the rain in the pasture,” and went to the gate.
Korney hesitantly called out:
- Why didn’t you look at the horse?
Taldykin stopped.
“It’s not worth a long look,” he said.
- Come on, let’s have some fun...
- Bad? – trying to joke, asked Korney.
Taldykin chuckled:
- Long-lived?
- The horse is not old.
- Tak. So the first head is on its shoulders?
Korney was confused.
- So not old? Didn’t your grandfather go to get married to her?... Well, it’ll do for us, get eleven yellow ones.
- Pray to God and put half a bottle.
- What are you, what are you? – Korney was offended. - You are without a cross, uncle!
- What? - Taldykin exclaimed menacingly, - were you crazy? Don't you want money? Take it while you catch a fool, take it, they tell you!
- What kind of money is this?
- The kind you don’t have.
- No, it’s better not to...
“Well, after a certain number of days you’ll give it back for seven, you’ll give it back with pleasure, trust your conscience...”
Then they tried the horse on the pasture... And no matter how cunning Korney was, no matter how much he restrained himself, he did not win back!
When October came and white flakes began to flicker and fall in the air, blue from the cold, covering the pasture, the vines and the rubble of the hut, Tanka had to be surprised at her mother every day.
It used to be that with the beginning of winter, true torment began for all the children, stemming, on the one hand, from the desire to run away from the hut, run waist-deep in snow across the meadow and, rolling on their feet on the first blue ice of the pond, hit it with sticks and listen, how he gurgles, and on the other hand - from the menacing shouts of his mother:
- Where are you going? Chicher, it’s cold - and she’s mowing! With the boys to the pond! Now climb onto the stove, otherwise you’ll look at me, little demon!
- Go, I’ll get you dressed, go to the pond, baby!
Last winter, Tanka and even Vaska went to bed late and could calmly enjoy sitting on the “rough” stove even until midnight. The air in the hut was steamy and thick; A light bulb without glass was burning on the table, and the soot, like a dark, trembling wick, reached right up to the ceiling. My father was sitting near the table, sewing sheepskin coats; the mother mended shirts or knitted mittens; her inclined face was at that time meek and affectionate. In a quiet voice she sang “old” songs that she had heard as a girl, and Tanka often wanted to cry from them. In a dark hut, covered in snow blizzards, Marya remembered her youth, remembered the hot hayfields and evening dawns, when she walked in a crowd of girls along a field road with ringing songs, and behind the rust the sun went down and its dying reflection fell like golden dust through the ears... She spoke in songs daughter, that she too will have the same dawns, that everything that passes so quickly and for a long time will be replaced for a long time by village grief and care...
When her mother was getting ready for dinner, Tanka, wearing only a long shirt, would tear it off the stove and, often shuffling her bare feet, run to the bunk, to the table. Here she, like an animal, squatted down and quickly caught some salsa in the thick stew and snacked on cucumbers and potatoes. Fat Vaska ate slowly and rolled his eyes, trying to fit a big spoon into his mouth... After dinner, with a tight stomach, she just as quickly ran to the stove, fought for space with Vaska, and, when one frosty night dregs looked through the dark windows, she fell asleep in a sweet dream under the prayerful whisper of the mother: “God's saints, the merciful Saint Nikola, the pillar of protection of people, Mother Holy Friday - pray to God for us! Cross in our heads, cross at our feet, cross from the evil one..."
Now the mother put her to bed early, said that there was no dinner, and threatened to “gouge out her eyes” and “give her to the blind in a bag” if she, Tanka, did not sleep. Tanka often roared and asked for “at least some caps,” while the calm, mocking Vaska lay there, kicking his legs up and scolding his mother.
“Here’s the brownie,” he said seriously, “go to sleep and sleep!” Let dad wait!
Dad left Kazanskaya, was at home only once, said that there was “trouble” everywhere - they don’t make sheepskin coats, more people die - and he only does repairs here and there for rich men. True, that time they ate herrings, and my dad even brought “such and such a piece” of salted pike perch in a rag: “I was at the kstiny, he says, the day before, so I hid it for you guys...” But when my dad left, there was almost nothing to eat stopped...
The wanderer put on his shoes, washed, and prayed to God; His broad back in a greasy caftan, similar to a cassock, bent only at the waist; he crossed himself widely. Then he combed his wedge beard and drank from the bottle he took out of his backpack. Instead of a snack, I lit a cigarette. His washed face was wide, yellow and dense, his nose was turned up, his eyes looked sharp and surprised.
“Well, auntie,” he said, “are you burning the straw for nothing and not making the brew?”
- What should I cook? – Marya asked abruptly.
- Like what? Oh, nothing?
“Here’s a brownie…” muttered Vaska.
Marya looked at the stove:
- Ai woke up?
Vaska snorted calmly and evenly.
Tanka snorted.
“They’re sleeping,” Marya said, sat up and lowered her head.
The wanderer looked at her from under his brows for a long time and said:
- There’s no point in grieving, auntie.
Marya was silent.
“Nothing,” repeated the wanderer. – God will give the day, God will give food. I, brother, have no shelter, no home, I make my way along banks and meadows, boundaries and borders - and along the backyards - and wow... Eh, you didn’t spend the night in the snow under a broom bush - that’s what!
“You didn’t spend the night either,” Marya suddenly answered sharply, and her eyes sparkled, “with hungry children, didn’t hear how they scream in their sleep from hunger!” This is what I give them now, how will they get up? She ran around all the yards before dawn - she asked by Christ the God, she got one edge... and then, thank you, Kozel gave it... he himself, he says, didn’t have any frills left on his bast shoes... But I feel sorry for the guys - they’ve worn out the decoration...
I. A. Bunin
Tanka
Shows hunger and impoverishment in the village in winter. Tanka, a little girl, sleeps on the stove with her brother Vaska (their father Korney and mother Marya). The family was forced to sell the cow and the horse for next to nothing. But there is still nothing to eat and nothing to feed the children. Therefore, the mother sends the children for a walk outside (to the pond) in the morning, and puts them to bed early in the evening so that they don’t ask for food. Marya herself is heartbroken with pain, and she tells about the plight of the situation to the wanderer who spent the night in their house. The way her mother “voiced” was heard by Tanka, who woke up from the cold. She decides to immediately run outside on a winter morning so that her mother does not cry. The frozen master, Pavel Antonich, picks her up and takes her to visit him (he is an old man, a zealous owner, his wife died, he had to let the serfs go, his student son was exiled to Siberia, i.e. the master is lonely). He wanted to warm and feed the frozen child. Pavel Antonich showed Tanka how the clock played, gave her tea with milk, and sang songs to her with a guitar. At the same time, he thinks about the future that awaits her, thinks about the starving people in the villages. In the evening he takes Tanka home in a sleigh. She has a dream about a garden, stars, Vaska, a clock, and her mother.
D'Artagnan is the main character of the novel, who came from Gascony to Paris in search of fame and a brilliant career, an intelligent, fearless, cunning and irresistible hero, who immediately fell into a whirlpool of court intrigues, entailing endless duels, skirmishes and adventures, unusually lucky, with his intelligence, nobility, integrity and luck, achieving everything he dreamed of, and gaining the patronage of the king and queen of France and the respect of Cardinal Richelieu. Never resting on his laurels and tirelessly active, he seems to be looking for adventures that make his life extremely filled with events and not
In adulthood, Scott lived mainly in the Borders, but he was not born there, but in Edinburgh - on August 15, 1771. (Some evidence suggests that Scott was wrong by one year and was actually born on August 15, 1770; however, this is by no means conclusive, and the available evidence favors the accepted version, that is, 1771.) His father, also Walter Scott, born in 1729, was the eldest son of Robert Scott of Sandy Know and Barbara Haliburton, who, according to Scott, was from “an old and worthy family residing in Berwickshire.” Robert Sk
A contemporary of A. S. Pushkin, N. V. Gogol created his works in the historical conditions that developed in Russia after the unsuccessful first revolutionary action - the Decembrists in 1825. Addressing the most important historical problems of his time in his works, the writer went further along the path of realism, which was discovered by Pushkin and Griboyedov. V. G. Belinsky wrote: “Gogol was the first to look boldly and directly at Russian reality.” N.V. Gogol was endowed with the gift of extraordinary observation; the smallest details did not escape his attention. Making your juice
“I consciously and irrevocably devote my life to this topic (the topic of the Motherland)” (A. Blok - K. Stanislavsky). The image of the Motherland appears in Blok’s lyrics gradually, as if she reveals first one of her faces, then another. In the poem “Rus” (1906), Russia appears before the reader as a mysterious, witchcraft land: Rus' is girded by rivers and surrounded by wilds, with swamps and cranes and with the dull gaze of a sorcerer. Rus' is fabulously beautiful. The lyrical hero feels a blood relationship with everything Russian and longs for renewal in such a close connection: Thus I recognized in my slumber the poverty of my native country And in the rags of its rags the Souls
Bunin Ivan Alekseevich
Ivan Bunin
Tanya felt cold and woke up.
Freeing her hand from the blanket in which she had awkwardly wrapped herself at night, Tanka stretched out, took a deep breath and squeezed again. But it was still cold. She rolled up to the very “head” of the stove and pressed Vaska to it. He opened his eyes and looked as brightly as only healthy children look from sleep. Then he turned on his side and fell silent. Tanka also began to doze off. But the door to the hut knocked: the mother, rustling, was dragging an armful of straw out of the hay.
Is it cold, auntie? - asked the wanderer, lying on the horse.
No,” answered Marya, “fog.” And the dogs are lying around, inevitably in a snowstorm.
She was looking for matches and rattling her grips. The wanderer lowered his feet from the bunk, yawned and put on his shoes. The bluish cold light of the morning glimmered through the windows, and under the bench the awakened lame drake hissed and quacked. The calf stood up on weak, splayed legs, convulsively stretched out its tail, and muttered so stupidly and abruptly that the wanderer laughed and said:
Orphan! Did you lose the cow?
And there's no horse?
Tanya opened her eyes.
The sale of the horse was especially etched in her memory: “When they were still digging potatoes,” on a dry, windy day, her mother was half-hearted in the field, crying and saying that “the piece didn’t go down her throat,” and Tanka kept looking at her throat, not understanding, what's the point?
Then the “Anchichrists” arrived in a large, strong cart with a high front. They both looked alike, black, greasy, and belted at the rumps. Another one came after them, even blacker, with a stick in his hand, I shouted something loudly, a little later, I took the horse out of the yard and ran with it across the pasture, my father ran after him, and Tanka thought that he ran to take the horse away, caught up with her and took her into the yard again. The mother stood on the threshold of the hut and cried. Looking at her, Vaska began to roar at the top of his lungs. Then the “black” again took the horse out of the yard, tied it to a cart and trotted down the hill... And the father no longer chased...
The “Anchichrists,” the bourgeois horsemen, were, indeed, fierce in appearance, especially the last one, Taldykin. He came later, and before him the first two only brought down the price. They vied with each other to torture the horse, tore its face, and beat it with sticks.
Well,” one shouted, “look here, get some money with God!”
They’re not mine, take care of them, you don’t have to take half price, Korney answered evasively.
But what is this half price, if, for example, the filly is more years old than you and me? Pray to God!
“There’s no point in interpreting,” Korney objected absentmindedly.
It was then that Taldykin came, a healthy, fat tradesman with the physiognomy of a pug: shiny, angry black eyes, the shape of his nose, cheekbones - everything about him reminded him of this dog breed.
What's all the noise and there's no fight? - he said, entering and smiling, if flaring nostrils can be called a smile.
He walked up to the horse, stopped and was silent for a long time, looking at it indifferently. Then he turned around, casually said to his comrades: “Hurry up, it’s time to go, I’ll wait for the rain in the pasture,” and went to the gate.
Korney hesitantly called out:
Why didn’t the horse look?
Taldykin stopped.
It’s not worth a long look,” he said.
Come on, let's indulge...
Taldykin came up and made lazy eyes.
He suddenly hit the horse under the belly, pulled its tail, felt under its shoulder blades, sniffed its hand and walked away.
Bad? - Korney asked, trying to joke.
Taldykin chuckled:
Long-lasting?
The horse is not old.
Tek. So the first head is on its shoulders?
Korney was confused.
Taldykin quickly thrust his fist into the corner of the horse’s lips, glanced as if briefly at its teeth and, wiping his hand on the floor, asked mockingly and quickly:
So not old? Didn’t your grandfather go to marry her?.. Well, it’ll do for us, get eleven yellow ones.
And, without waiting for Korney’s answer, he took out the money and took the horse by the turn.
Pray to God and put in half a bottle.
What are you, what are you? - Korney was offended - You are without a cross, uncle!
What? - Taldykin exclaimed menacingly, - are you crazy? Don't you want money? Take it while you catch a fool, take it, they tell you!
What kind of money is this?
The kind you don't have.
No, it's better not to.
Well, after a certain number you will pay for seven, you will pay with pleasure, trust your conscience.
Korney walked away, took an ax and with a businesslike look began to hew a pillow under the cart.
Then they tried the horse on the pasture... And no matter how cunning Korney was, no matter how much he restrained himself, he did not win back!
When October came and white flakes began to flicker and fall in the air, blue from the cold, covering the pasture, the crawl spaces and the heap of the hut, Tanka had to be surprised at her mother every day.
It used to be that with the beginning of winter, true torment began for all the children, stemming, on the one hand, from the desire to run away from the hut, run waist-deep in snow across the meadow and, rolling on their feet on the first blue ice of the pond, hit it with sticks and listen to how he gurgles, and on the other hand - from the menacing shouts of his mother.
Where are you going? Chicher, it’s cold - and she’s screwed up! With the boys to the pond! Now climb onto the stove, otherwise you’ll look at me, little demon!
Sometimes, with sadness, I had to be content with the fact that a cup of steaming crumbly potatoes and a hunk of thickly salted bread, smelling like a cage, was put on the stove. Now the mother did not give any bread or potatoes in the morning, and when asked about this she answered:
Go, I’ll get you dressed, go to the pond, baby!
Last winter, Tanka and even Vaska went to bed late and could calmly enjoy sitting on the “group” of the stove even until midnight. The air in the hut was steamy and thick; A light bulb without glass was burning on the table, and the soot, like a dark, trembling wick, reached right up to the ceiling. My father was sitting near the table, sewing sheepskin coats; the mother mended shirts or knitted mittens; Her bowed face was at that time meekly and affectionately in a quiet voice, she sang “old” songs that she had heard as a girl, and Tanka often wanted to cry from them. In the dark hut, covered in snow blizzards, Marya remembered her youth, remembered the hot hayfields and evening dawns, when she walked in a crowd of girls along the field road with ringing songs, and behind the rust the sun went down and its dying glow fell like golden dust through the ears of corn. She told her daughter in a song that she too would have the same dawns, that everything that passed so quickly and for a long time would be replaced for a long time by village grief and care.
When her mother was getting ready for dinner, Tanka, wearing only a long shirt, would tear it off the stove and, often shuffling her bare feet, run to the bunk, to the table. Here she, like an animal, squatted down and quickly caught some salsa in the thick stew and snacked on cucumbers and potatoes. Fat Vaska ate slowly and rolled his eyes, trying to fit a large spoon into his mouth... After dinner, with a tight stomach, she just as quickly ran to the stove, fought for space with Vaska, and, when one frosty night was looking through the dark windows, she fell asleep sweet sleep under the prayerful whisper of the mother: “God's saints, the merciful Saint Nikola, the pillar of protection of people, Mother Blessed Friday - pray to God for us! Cross in our heads, cross at our feet, cross from the evil one”...
The genre is short story. The story is told to us in prose. The story is built on an antithesis; the lives of peasants and landowners are contrasted here. The images of the characters are drawn clearly and clearly.
The style of the work is narrative.
This story raises the problem of the Russian peasantry. This question was of great concern
The Russian intelligentsia of that time. The recent reform made the situation of the peasants even worse, and this could not help but worry Bunin.
In the story, poor, emaciated people, exhausted by poverty and hunger, dream of only one thing - a piece of bread, an onion or potatoes with salt. But the peasants show patience, stoicism, and submission to fate. What is surprising in their actions is their faith in God, moral purity, as well as their statements of regret about their past life.
The story “Tanka” talks about a peasant family in which two children live - Vaska and Tanka. The family is in need, the children have nothing to eat. Even though the parents sold the cow, and then the horse, the situation did not improve. Therefore, Marya, the mother of the children, sends them out into the street early in the morning and puts them to bed early in the evening. She does this so that the children do not ask for food.
It breaks her heart to see her children starving. Tanka, for example, is surprised when her mother tells her that “the piece won’t fit in her throat.” How this can be, the girl does not understand.
When your stomach is swollen from hunger, you seem ready to eat anything. But the mother says this for a completely different reason.
The plot is based on the fact that a gentleman appears in the story, who takes the girl to his house, leads her through his rooms, treats her with prunes and sugar, shows her how the clock plays and even sings her songs with a guitar. The image of the landowner Pavel Antonovich is written out laconically, his behavior is explained. The master is lonely, this evokes sympathy. And the landowner was sincerely glad when Tanka appeared in his house.
At the same time, the landowner is strict, since he directs the driver to walk along the winter road to look for the whip lost along the way.
But he is not an evil person. Yes, he is stingy, but he became that way when he had to raise the economy alone, after the reform, because his serfs left. He also remained alone.
And he was glad when he saw how she smiled at his home.
But the most important thing is that Tanka was also happy that evening. In the midst of a miserable, hard life, this event was like a ray of light for her. Apparently that’s why, when the landowner was taking her back home, she had an amazing dream.
Everything was good about him and everyone was happy. The story seems simple, but it makes you look at life differently and think about it.
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