Palada frigate Ivan Gonchar read short zmist. From Kronstadt to misu lizard

Goncharov I. A. Frigate "Pallada"// Goncharov I. A. More selection of works and lists: U 20 volumes - St. Petersburg: Nauka, 1997-...

T. 2. The frigate "Pallada": Draw more expensive in two volumes. - 1997 . - S. 5-740.

Volume one

VIEW TO KRONSTADTU TO MISU LIZARDA

Take it, say goodbye, that exit at Kronstadt. - Frigate "Pallada". - The sea is the sailors. - Cabin company. - Finnish flood. - Fresh wind. - Sea sickness. - Gotland. - Cholera on the frigate. - Falling people by the sea. - Screenshot. - Kattegat ta Skagerrak. - German sea. - Dogger's bank and Galoper lighthouse. - Leave the ship. - Fishermen. - British Channel and Spіtgedsky raid. – London. - Wellington's funeral. - Notes about English and English. - Turn at Portsmouth. - Living on the Camperdown. - Walking around Portsmouth, South, Ports and Gosport. - Checking the fair wind on the Spitges roadstead. - Evening ahead of Christmas. - The silhouette of English and Russian. - Vidplittya.

It is less surprising, as they could not take away the first leaf from England, from 2/14 leaf fall of 1852 to the year, and the other from Hong Kong, the same month, de the share of the leaf is celebrated, as if about the share of the new people of non-maturity. In England and її colonies, the leaf is a sacred object, which is to pass through thousands of hands, by those other roads, across the oceans, from pіvkulі to pіvkul, and to know inevitably the one to whom it was sent, as if only alive, and so it’s inevitable to turn, stars nadislano, that Vіn died, or he himself returned there. Have the leaves on the mainland been ruined, have the Danish chi Prussian Volodya? But now, it’s good to work on the investigation about such rubbish: I’ll write more better, as it’s only necessary ...

Do you have the details of my acquaintance with the sea, with sailors, with the shores of Denmark and Sweden, with England? You want to know, as I raptom zі sієї pіynoї kіmnati, yak having filled only in times of extreme consumption and zavzhd with regret, passing on the bosom of the seas, yak, rozpescheny z usіh you mіskіy zhіtty, zvjayneym mіtushnej day i peacefully calm in one day, in one year, is it guilty of knocking down order and throwing yourself into trouble in the life of a sailor? It used to be, you won’t fall asleep, as if a big fly were escaping into the room and rushing around the wild dzizhchans, shoving at the stele by the vіkna, or scraping the target into the coddle; bіzhish vіd vіkna, like vіd nіgo dme, laєsh road, if in nіy є vyboїni, vіdmovishsya їhati for the evening at the end of the city under the drive "far їhati", afraid to miss the deadline to go to bed; I think it smells of dim smoke in the soup, that the frying burnt out, that the water does not shine, like a crystal ... And raptom - to the sea! “So how do you go there - pump?” - nourished people, who knew that if you put a carriage not in such a coachman, then already in it hit. “How will you go to bed, what will you eat? How do you get along with new people? - the food was hoarse, and they marveled at me with a sick cіkavіst, as if at a sacrifice, doomed to torturs. From this one can see that everyone, who has not been on the sea, is still in the memory of Cooper’s old novels, or rospovidi Mariet about the sea and sailors, about captains, as they didn’t put enough passengers on the lance, they could shoot and hang the underdogs, about accidents ship, earthquake. “There the captain will put you on the very top,” my friends and acquaintances told me (often you, remember?), “Tell me not to give, to hang on an empty shore.” - "For what?" I drank. “Just don’t sit down like that, don’t walk like that, smoke a cigar, it’s not ordered.” - “I work everything, how to work there,” - lagidno vіdpovіv I. “They called out to sit at night, and there, as the sun went down, so all the fires were put out,” others said, “and the noise, the clatter, the smell, the cry!” - “Zіsp'єte vy there z cola! - lyakali deyakі, - fresh water is rare there, more and more rum drink. - "Kivshami, I myself am a bachelor, I was on a ship," adding htos. One old woman kept vainly shaking her head, marveling at me, and asked me to go "better along the dry path to the world." Shche pani, reasonable, sweet, cried, if I came to say goodbye to her. I zdivuvavsya: I swam with her all three times on the river and in a moment I didn’t swim three rocks, even stilts, skils are necessary for a great swimming, I wouldn’t mind. "What are you crying about?" - I'm asleep. "Meni shkoda you," - she said, wiping her tears. "Skoda to the fact that the zayva of the people is still a rozvaga?" - I respected. “Did you grind a lot for my rozvaga?” Vaughn said. I stood at a deaf kut: about what are you crying about? “I’m just a Skoda, what do you see, bozna-kudi.” Evil took me. The axis is how to marvel at our enviable share of the mandrivnik! “I understood your tears, yakbi tse were tears of zazdrosti,” I said, “yakbi you were shkoda, that on my, and not on your part, you fall down there, where there’s nothing for us, bachiti miracles, about those here And I think it’s important that I see the whole great book, for the first time I can read the first page ... ”I showed him with a kind warehouse. “Repeat,” she said vaguely, “I know everything; at what cost would you happen to read that book? Think about what you are checking for, what you will suffer, how many chances will not turn around! Vіm, don't believe in tears, - she added, - but I'm not crying for you: I just cry.

The thought of їhati, like a hmіl, clouded my head, and I, without a turbo and hotly, gave that warning to all the conversations, while the approach was far away. I’ve been dreaming - and dreaming for a long time - about the voyage, it’s possible for tієї hvilini, if the reader told me that it’s possible to go to the point without a point, then I turn to it from the other side: I wanted to go from the right bank of the Volga, on which I was born , and turn left; I wanted to go there myself, the girl would point her finger at the equator, the poles, the tropics. But if we sweat in the sight of a card and in the sight of a reader's pointer, I passed on to the feats and benefits of Cooks, Vancouver, I was embarrassed: before their exploits, the heroes of Homer, Ajax, Achilles and Hercules himself? Children! The unselfish mind of a boy who was born in the middle of the mainland and did not succumb to the sea, numb in front of the zhahs and bids, which are similar to the paths of swimmers. Ale with years, fears were smoothed out in memory, and they lived in reality, and survived youth, only pictures of tropical forests, blue sea, golden, rainbow sky.

“Ni, I don’t want to go to Paris, - remember, I kept repeating to you, - not to London, not to go to Italy, as if sonorously you didn’t sleep about it, sings 1, - I want to Brazil, to India, I want to go there, de the sun calls out life from the stone and immediately orders to turn it over to the stone mustache, which will hit with its fire; de man, like our forefather, rve carrying a plaid, de nisporing a lion, plaza serpent, de reigning eternally summer, - there, at the light of the palace of God, the world, de nature, like a bayadère, wildly chtivist, de stuffy, scary and pleasant to live, de the fantasy is strong before we prepare the folds, where the eyes do not get tired of marveling, but the heart beats.

Everything was enigmatic and fantastically miraculous in the enchanting distance: happy people walked and turned around from a pleasant, but deaf story about miracles, from childish clouds of darkness the world was hidden. Ale, a man appeared, a sage and sings, and touched the taemnichi kuti. Vіn pіshov there with a compass, a spade, a compass and a penzle, from the heart, let's go to the Creator and love to Yogo svetobudovi. Vіn vnіs zhittya, roznіd i svіd vіd kamyanі emptіlі, іn the wilderness lіsіv і by the power of light rіzіnіnnya showed the way to thousands behind him. "Space!" Even more I wanted to look alive with my eyes at the living space. “Having given me,” I thought, “I’ll give you a trustingly wise hand, like a grown-up child, becoming a respectful ear, and, like a wiser, on the floor, on the tips of a child of wisdom, a clouded uncle, I’m rich and cim miserable.” Ale and tsya dream fell into the wake for riches іnhim. The days were fleeting, life was threatening with empty, days, evening weekdays: days, even though they were sometimes different, were angry in one languidly-one-mantic mass of fates. Pozіhannya for the right, for a book, pozihannya at the performance, and she herself pozihannya in galaslivyh gatherings and in a friendly conversation!

I was destined to resurrect the world, to destroy the soul, to guess the heroes I had long forgotten for a long time. Raptom and I follow them, I go towards the world! I shuddered gladly at the thought: I will be in China, in India, I will overflow the oceans, I will set foot on those islands, I will walk in the first simplicity of the dikun, I will marvel at the diva - and my life will not let me see other, nabridlih manifestations. I revived; all the dreams and hopes of youth, youth itself turned before me. Hurry up, get on the road!

It’s wondrous, prote, it’s almost healed me, if it’s been said that I’m going: just like that, the information about the grandeur of the hospitality spoke clearly and eloquently. Raiduzhnі mrії nadovgo zblidli; feat ignoring in reality, strength weakened, nerves fell in the world of that, as the hour had come to leave. I started to zazdrit dolі quiet, scho vanished, radіv, if there was a shift, and I myself smelt the difficulties, jokingly brought vanishing. Ale's share, as a blessing to our namіram, here nibi put herself in charge of help. And people are the same, know unknown, sometimes inaccessible, hirs for a share, nibi rushed to earn money on the right. I have been a victim of internal struggles, lamentation, mayzhe znemagav. “Where are you going? What am I doing? And in the guise of others, I was afraid to read these questions. Fate favored me. I marveled hard at how empty my apartment was, how furniture was carried out of it, a writing style, an armchair, a sofa. Leave everything, change it for what?

My life seemed to split apart, otherwise they gave me two lives in raptom, they saw an apartment near two worlds. In one, I am a modest official, in a uniform tailcoat, who is afraid in front of the boss’s glance, who is afraid of a cold, ties in the walls of a kilkom with dozens of similar one-on-one coats, uniforms. Otherwise, I am a new argonaut, at a straw capelus, at a white linen jacket, maybe with a tyutyun bug in my mouth, but I’m inaccessible to Colchis through the days behind the golden fleece, changing the climate, heaven, seas, powers. There I am the editor of dopovіdey, stosunkіv that order; here - spivak, wanting ex officio, 2 like. How to survive another life, become a hulk of the other world? How to replace the fearfulness of an official and the apathy of a Russian writer with the energy of seafaring, the lowliness of a city dweller - the rudeness of a sailor? I have not been given any other brushes, or new nerves. And then, in raptom, from walks near Peterhof and Pargolovo, roll up to the equator, star up between the Pivdenny Pole, from Pivdenny to Pivnichny, cross the oceans, clear five continents and turn around ... ; soul vydvіduv and drib'yazkovy fear, if I zaglyublyuvsya at the report analysis of the future voyage. Sea sickness, climate change, tropical speck, evil lihomania, animals, wild birds, storms - everything fell into a thought, especially storms. Even if I am without a turbo, I’ve shown everything, I’m often outrageous, I’m often funny, I’m guarded by friends, but the fear is often day and night, when you see me, see me. Then the skele appeared, beating as if our broken ship was lying down, and stomping for nothing, grabbing with weary hands behind the smooth stone; then I dreamed that I was on an empty island, evacuated from the ship’s ulamkom, dying of hunger ... I threw myself in trepidation, with drops of sweat on my forehead. Aje ship, what a wine is not a mitzny, like it is not stuck to the sea, what is it? - Triska, cat, epigram on human strength. I'm afraid that I'll see the invisible organism of the faceless suvorih conditions, its sharp turn from a peaceful life to a constant battle with new and sharp manifestations of a vagrant pobutu? So, nareshti, chi stitch the souls together with a rapt picture of the world, which is developing uncontrollably? Adzhe tse zukhvalіst mayzhe titanic! De take the strength, shobi to take the mass of the great hostility? And if the soul of these miraculous guests escapes into the soul, why should the Lord himself not feast in the midst of his banquet?

I coped, like a moment, from doubts: some were able to overcome, others were overwhelmed with innocence, until the devil reached them, and I gradually got better. I guessed that this way is no longer Magellan's way, that people have got into riddles and fears. Not a great image of Columbus and Vasco de Gama is more likely to marvel from the deck in the distance, at the unknown future: the English pilot, in the blue jacket, in the pantaloons, in the red guise, that Russian navigator, in recognition of the hopeless day of service, point the way to the ship with his finger that year yoga come. Among the sailors, pozihayuchi apathetic, lazily marveling "in the vastness of the distance" to the ocean, the writer, thinking about those who have good hotels in Brazil, who are the laundresses on the Sandwich Islands, why ride in Australia? “Hotels in Vladmina,” they say, “you will find everything on the Sandwich Islands: a German colony, French hotels, an English porter - everything, a Crimean wild one.” In Australia, carriages and carriages; the Chinese began to wear Irish linen; in the East Indies speak English; American savages from the fox rush to Paris and London, ask to go to the university; in Africa, black men begin to wear their own colors and offal, wear white mittens. Only with great hardships and windfalls you can drink in the ring a boa constrictor or a claw of a tiger and a lion. China has been creaking for a long time, and yet the screen from the old moth was cracked - the lid flew out of the loops, pidirvana with gunpowder. Europeans rush at the ganchir'ї, away, if you happen to you at once, novlyuє, gospodaryuє ... Mine is still three hours, and you will not become a diva, a hoarder, a hoarder, a hoarder. And now there is no sea water, її roam with fresh water, for five thousand miles from the shore there is a dish of fresh green game; under the equator you can eat Russian cabbage soup. Parts of the world are close to each other: from Europe to America - with a hand of tribute; Let’s think that we’ll go there in forty spring years - poof, it’s extremely hot, but a modern pouf that is pulling on the future gigantic successes of navigation.

Hurry, hurry on the road! Poetry of distant mandrivoks is known not today, but every day. We, perhaps, remain mandrivers, at the sensi Argonauts: on us, on our turn, look at the fate of that hell.

It seemed that all fears, like a dream, fell in: forward beckoning expanse and low untested malt. The breasts were wildly free, the sky was already bright in the afternoon, the blue heavens beckoned. Ale raptom behind this perspective, a new evil ghost appeared and grew in the world of that, as I went on the road. This ghost was a thought: what kind of binding should lie on a literate mandrinnik in front of spivvitchizniks, in front of suspіlstvo, how to follow the swimmers? Expedition to Japan is not a goal: you don’t shove, you don’t spend. It is important now to go to Italy, without the knowledge of the public, to those who once took up the pen. And then lie about the whole world and tell about it so that they heard the talk without tedium, without impatience. Ale yak i scho rozpovidat that describe? Tse those same, scho ask, with some kind of physionomy to show up at the court?

There is no science about the price: authorities, starting from Aristotle up to and including Lomonosov, murmur; on the road, they didn’t sip on the ferrule of rhetoric, and the writer is free to make his way into the nadra gir, or sink into the depths of the oceans, with a great drink, or, perhaps, on the wings of the breathless kovzat shvidko and catch the passing on paper; to describe the lands of the people historically, statistically, it’s less to marvel, like taverns, - in a word, no one has been given a stylka of space and no one can write clearly, like mandrivnikov. Chi talk about the theory of winds, about the direct course of the ship, about the latitude and long time to confirm that such a land was under the water, and the axis of the bottom was named; this island looks like fire, and that one looks like water; the cob of the country is brought up to such an hour, the people look like, and with whom you diligently write down the names of the great authorities, stars, what and how? Alée, you feed something that's squeaky. Everything I say is already important; mandrivnikovi ashamedly take care of everyday life: wine is guilty of attaching to himself more importantly to what he hasn’t known for a long time, but to that, it’s possible, boulo, or maybe not. “Vіdіshlіt tse vchena suspіlstvo, in the academy, - you say, - but speaking with people, be it illumined, write otherwise. Give us miracles, poetry, fire, life and farb!”

Miracles, poetry! I said that there are no miracles: more expensively they have instilled a miraculous character. I didn't fight lions and tigers, I didn't kill human flesh. Everything goes like a prozovy rіven. The colonists do not torment the innocent, the buyers and sellers of the Negroes are no longer called merchants, but robbers; at the deserts, stations and hotels are established; bridges hang across the abyss. With comfort and safety, I passed through a number of Portuguese and English - on Madeira and the islands of Green Misu; the Dutch, the Negroes, the Hottentots and the new English - on the mission of Good Hope; Malays, Indians and ... English - from the Malay Archipelasis and China, Nareshti, Japanese and Americans - from Japan. What a marvel to make now a palm tree and a banana not in a picture, but in nature, on their native soil, right from a guavi tree, mango and pineapple, not from a greenhouse, thin and dry, but juice, from a Roman ogirok size? What marvelous thing is perishing at coconut unworldly forests, wandering about with swaying lianas, among tall, like vezhy, trees, streaking with these colorful marvelous brothers of ours? And the sea? And it will ring out in all its forms, gurgling and unruly, and the sky will be the same, noon, evening, night, with roaming, like sand, stars. Everything is so sonic, everything is so possible. Navpaki, I have seen miracles: there are none in the tropics. Everything is the same, simple. Two times fate, and that’s what they say, but it’s true: it’s hot for the winter, but it’s stingy for the wind; and you have there, on the "distant pіvnochі", chotiri seasons, and that's for the calendar, but really they're all the same. Over the luggage, there at the apartment there is no summer, to starve, and in the black forest the winter is not passed, to powder it with snow, then with rapt it will be baked, like a congratulations to the tropics, and all the flowers and smell like five whilins for these terrible promises. Striking three on the river Finnish inflow and the blue sky, which covers its curves, dress up in a black color and smile, being merciful one by one, and pivnichna people, going from St. radius: tree, flower and creature. At the tropics, now, the land of eternal marshmallow, eternal speck, peace and blue of the sky and the sea. Everything is one-man!

I poetry changed its sacred beauty. Your muses, loving poets, 3, legitimate daughters of Parnassian stones, would not have given you an obliging lyre, would not have shown you a poetic image, which falls into the vіchі new mandrіvnik. What an image! Not glittering with beauty, not with the attributes of strength, not with a demonic fire in his eyes, not with a sword, not in a crown, but simply in a black tailcoat, with a round capelus, with a white vest, with a parasol in his hands. Ale is the image of your panuє in the world over the minds and passions. Vіn usyudi: I do yoga in England - on the streets, behind the shop counter, at the legislator's chamber, on the stock exchange. All the subtlety of the image of this one, with blue eyes, shine in the thinnest and white shirts, in the smoothly-naked bodice and beautifully combed rusyavih rudih sideburns. I wrote to you, like me, driven by a seething wind, three thousand in the beer cold, pierced along the shores of Europe, as if falling down on us with a bіla pіdoshvi gіr Maderi lagidni promin of the sun and, after a gloomy, gray-lead sky and such a sea, they slobbered blacks , the blue skies shone, as we greedily rushed to the shore to warm ourselves with the hot breath of the earth, as if we reveled a mile away in the plowed fields of the flowers that came from the shore. We gladly gathered on the whirlwind shore, under the oleandry. I churned the crock and zupinivsya zdivovano, confused: like, and under the sky, among the brightly glittering farb of the green sea ... stood three familiar images in black cloth, near the round caps! The stench, spiraling on the parasols, commandingly marveled at their blue eyes at the sea, on the ships and at the mountain that rose above their heads and was overgrown with vineyards. I'm on the mountain; under the porticos, between the festoons of grape greenery, glimpsing that very image; with a cold and strict look, stitching wines, like the nativs of the swaggering inhabitants of the day, they mined, drenched in sweat, expensive sik of their soil, like barrels of barrels to the shore, and sent them far, taking away the right to eat the bread of their land for the sake of the rulers. In the ocean, in mitt'vih zustrіch, that very image is visible on the deck of the ship, whistling through its teeth: Rule, Britannia, upon the sea. 4 I’m cultivating yoga on the sands of Africa, to follow the work of the negro, on the plantations of India and China, in the middle of the bale in tea, with a look and in a word, my dear mother, which I punish with the peoples, ships, garmats, which are ruined by the impossibly natural forces of nature ... Skrіz And everywhere the image of the English merchant is mooning over the elements, over the human race, triumphing over nature!

Ale to finish the robiti pas de géants 5: mandruvatimemo peace, bit by bit. I have already learned to visit you in the palm forests on the oceans, without leaving Kronstadt. It’s not easy: even if you go somewhere to forgive, to Kiev from the village to Moscow, the mandriving man can’t be fooled, throw ten times in a bunch of relatives and friends, have a snack, sit lean, then raise a parcel, need some time, chotirma hundreds of people - to Japan. Three times I traveled to Kronstadt, and everything was still not ready. Vіd'їzd vіdkladavsya on the prey, and I turned back to spend the day there, de provіv roіv sіnadtsatі і dreamed of living. Chi pobachu I novu tsі chapters and crosses? - I said goodbye to my thoughts, vіdvalyuyuchi in the fourth and vostannє vіd English embankment.

Nareshti, July 7, the frigate "Pallada" weighed anchor. Zim began for me life, in which skin ruh, skin crotch, skin lesions were not similar to the usual number.

Nezabar, everything was fluttering on the frigate, doti indestructible. The mustache of a chotirist man to the crew stood on the deck, prowled the command words, a lot of sailors climbed uphill on the shrouds, like flies they clung to the yards, and the ship was filled with windows. Ale, the wind was not fair, and to this we were pulled by a strong steamboat and returned to the wind, and we began to fight with the gurgling, which was rising, otherwise, like sailors, they seem to be “fresh” with the wind. A strong hitavice began. Alas, this first storm didn’t hit me a little: don’t be in the sea, I thought, why can’t I be like this, why don’t I do it anyway, so that the ship will always go off on the sides, the deck will vibrate from the bottom and the sea won’t be thrown over. on the head.

I was sitting at the wardroom, listening at the whistle of the wind between the rigging and hitting the wind at the side of the ship. Uphill it was cold; slanting, frozen wood, puffed up in disguise. The officers without agitation moved among themselves, like by the room, on the birch; others read. Having rapped a penetrating whistle, not the wind, but the boatswain's whistles, and then the cry of ten voices resounded through all the decks: "Pishov all uphill!" Mittevo, all the inhabitants of the frigate rushed down the hill; the steel sailors urged the boatswain. The officers threw books, maps (geographical: there are no others there), and they quickly ran there. The invisible people are here, who trapiled like dashingly, then it broke, broke off and the ship went to the bottom at once. “Navіscho tse call us on the mountain?” - I drank the midshipman, so I got up. “Blow to all the mountains, if it’s an emergency work,” - having said in a hurry and a sign. Crying for the traps of that hank, I climbed onto the deck and stood by the hutch. Everything fluttered. What is such an emergency robot? - I slept with another officer. “If you whistle to the mountain top,” - vіdpovіv vіn i zanyavsya - emergency robot. I tried to put together my own idea about those who are like a robot, wondering, what to shy away, but not understanding anything: all those who did it yesterday, who, maybe, work tomorrow: pull the tackle, turn the yards, pick up the windshields. The officers explained the correct truth to me, I should have followed it so simply, as it was said, - and all the mystery was here. Avralna robot - means a wild robot, if one watch is not enough, you need all your hands, then everyone should “whistle the mountain”! English, I do not have mercy, and command "All hands up!" (“All hands up!”). After five hvilins, having worked out what was needed, all rose up with their own missions. Baron Krüdner whistled me for three croques under the noise of the storm, a motive from the opera. For a long time I tried to go to the new one: my legs did not hear, and I laughed at my susilly. “You don’t have any marine ones yet,” having said wine. "Will it be soon?" - I'm asleep. "Two months, maybe." I sighed: only I was left alone to keep me busy at the thought, that for two more months I walk, like a child, hanging on to the nanny’s bed. Nezabar vyavivalis sea sickness among the young and skhilnyh before her, or sailors had not been on the campaign for a long time. I check, if I wake up, and I’ll take care of the tedious sea of the sea, but I don’t check the check. Tim watched for the others for an hour: the axis of a young man, midshipman, pale, descends on the stele; the eyes are in the new darkness, the head is healed on the side. The axle was changed for the wart, and the wines, having given the towel, were burnt on the tank. The officer wanted to shout to the sailors, but quickly turned in disguise to the sea and climbed on board... run? - it seems to youmu іnshiy. ( True, vitrative- it means to release the giblets of the rope.) Only a little, but you can see it now, then from that, then from another ... "Drink the burners," - I seem to be alone. "Ni, shorter lemon juice", - to please others; the third is to pronounce the cibules of the radish. I don’t know what to call for, to save the sickness, and lighting a cigar. The ailment did not come, and I anxiously walked among the ailments, chekayuchi - the axis-axis will turn. "Fire a cigar into a pitching and swear by the one that rocks you: it's for nothing!" - one of the companions said to me. And it’s true for nothing: the whole hour of the voyage, I’ve never once seen the nudity of life and zbudzhuv zadrіst inspire the sailors.

I started to look around from the first croc to the ship. And now, for example, swimming, I remember those important wounds, in the sight of which my heart sank, if I looked ahead at the belongings of the vessel, staring at the hold, at the dark corner, like a bear mink, where it’s easy to reach the bright light through the tovste. valley slope. For the first time, it’s invisible to the eye, everything that we see to the eye of the eye is suddenly clear: lack of light, space, hatches, where people don’t fall, fastened to the walls of the chest of drawers and sofas, tying up to the foot of the table, those styles, important bullets, the cores of that buckshot , with the correct kupami on the fenders, like on the tatsy, the arrangement of the white garmat; buy gear to hang, lie down, crumble and not crumble, lie down for a liek, take care of everything; order and stringency instead of the ugly debauchery, as in people, so in the improvement of a floating life. It’s not selfish to go upstairs a person on a ship: the cabin is given to you by a string, and at the same time it’s unlikely that you’ll be safe in a richly crowded place, on a halaslivy street, lower on a militant glass ship, in the ocean. Ale, I will not come soon to the truth.

We, Russians, are showered with nights, and not without reason. We know for ourselves, without the help of foreigners, that it is hard on me. How can you believe that in St. Petersburg there are faceless people, natives of that place, who have never been to Kronstadt because you need to go there by sea; The sailors were especially wary of me for the marriage of drunkenness in our public to everything that the sea and the fleet are worth, and they pointed like a butt of the English, like NATO, with squads and children, for every ship that came to the port. The first part of the dokoru tsіlkom ґruntovna, tobto have a lack of tsіkavostі; if there is another, then the English are not an example for us. At the English sea - їhnіy ґrunt: їm there is nothing more to go. Therefore, in the English society there are impersonal women, like bules in all five parts of the world. Those who live steadily in India and come and go with their relatives to London, like we have from Tambov to Moscow. What do we say to our women that the stench does not exist in China, in the Good Country, in Australia, or the English for those who do not stink in Kamchatka, in the Caucasus, in the depths of the Asian steppes?

But the Petersburg dweller doesn’t know what a deck, sash, rai, hold, gangway, de feed, denis, head part of that ship’s fittings are like, - it’s impossible if the fleet is standing side by side. It’s very true that someone knows that the stench can’t be among the sailors known to them and that they can’t even visit the ship, not knowing how “the sailors will accept”. And accept it miraculously, as you well know; to instill self-love in them, you will accept the fate until you do well, and stink to know you from him with the friendliness and the most loving kindness. Go to the Kronstadt roadstead, to any warship, address yourself to the commander, or the elder one, or, if you find it, to the shift (guard) officer, take a look at the ship, and as there is no “emergency” work on the ship, then I vouch for you the best reception.

Arriving on the frigate, still with luggage, I didn’t know where to go, and in an unknown state I became completely orphaned. I marveled at myself and at my own warehouse in a compartment of speech. It didn’t take long for the whilini to come before me, three officers: Baron Schlipenbach, midshipman Boltin and Kolokoltsev - my future companions and wonderful friends. Behind them came a group of sailors. The stench at once snatched up everything that was with me, not less than myself, and carried it to the appointed cabin. For the time being, Baron Schlipenbach settled me in niy, Boltin grafted on a young, flint-haired, smoothly-cropped sailor. “The axis of the sailor was recognized to you at the message”, - having said wines. That buv Faddiev, with which I have known you for a long time. "Honor may appear," - having said wine, pulling himself up and turning to me not with the faces, but with his chest: the face in the new head was animal-like with the side to the subject, marveling at what win. Rousse hair, white eyes, white appearance, thin lips - everything told the swedish Finland, the lower Kostroma, the yogo fatherland. Z tsієї hvilin mi already with him inseparable dosі. I have three years left, so far they have gone to England; wine me, I think, in three days. Smіtlіvії i "sobі na dumtsі" weren't the only ones that won't stop, like they were hiding in the new stately ingratitude of the Kostroma citizen and the subordination of the sailor. "Help my people to put speeches in the cabin," - I gave you the first order. And those that my servant would have become two wounds of work, Faddiev having killed three priyomi - do not feed the yak. Such serenity and chipkost, such a sailor vozgali, and Thaddeev especially chiba in the bowels. Through the first year, everything was in its place, between others and books, like vines roztashuvav on chest of drawers in a tuck around and tied up, on a chitavy, hank so that it was impossible to blame one’s life without this stingy strength and tranquility, and I to England koristuvavsya books from other people's libraries.

“You, maybe, didn’t offend,” Boltin said, “but we already cleared our offense: why not have a bite to eat?” Vіn grafted me into the wardroom, the open space of the room below, on the cockpit, without windows, alley with a hatch on the mountain, through which one falls clearly. The small cabins of the officers were moving along, and in the middle, a mizzen-chogle, disguised by a round sofa, passed through the middle. At the cabin-company there was a long-standing steel, as if they were at the classrooms with lavas. On the new officer, she is engaged. There was a couch and nothing more. Like not a massive chain of steel, ale, with a strong chitavit, and it was thrown from side to side, and more than once did not crush our diminutive, kind, helpful order of the officer's table P. A. Tikhmenev. In the officers' cabins there was only a place for a bed, for a chest of drawers, which at one time served as a table, and for a bed. Then everything is driven to the reception of all sorts of things, albeit more beautifully. The cloth hung on the partition, the whiteness lay in drawers, lined at the bedside, the books stood at the police station.

There was no one in the wardroom of the officers: they must have been uphill, maybe, "on emergency work." They served a cold meal. A. A. Boltin treated me. “Vibachte, there is nothing hot in us,” having said wine, “all fires are extinguished. We accept gunpowder. - Gunpowder? And chi rich yoga here? - I slept with a great fate. “They took five hundred pounds: there are still three hundred pounds left to take.” - "And de vin you have to lie?" - with a great fate, I slept. "That axis is here, - having said vin, pointing at the pidlog, - under you." I was a little bit cheesy at the thought, why did I already lie five hundred pounds of gunpowder and that all the “emergency work” was concerned about the fact that I was laying three hundred pounds more. "It's good that the fires are extinguished," I praised for the perfomance. “Excuse me, what a good thing: you can’t smoke,” said the other, entering the cabin. “The axis of the yak is different, looking at the same object!” - I thought at that whilin, and after a month, if, at the first hour of the repair of the frigate in Portsmouth, they were building gunpowder for protection in the English Admiralty, terribly saying that fire should not be given and that smoking is not possible.

Everything was taken over: a galley (pekti) fuse; tea was served, supper was served, and cigars smoked. I got to know each other from us, and from that hour to dosi - like home. I thought, judging by a lot of a bit, that the word "tea" among sailors is just a little allegory, for such a need to understand the punch, and ochіkuva, that if the officers get to the table, then the rush of the robot for punch will start, the rozmova will burn alive, and with it wear it, then end up on the right with explanations of friendship, wrap it in volumes, - in a word, the whole program of the orgy is wrapped up. I already thought of how I would like to participate in it. Ale, on my sip and malt, on the old table there was only one decanter of sherry, for which two people drank a charm, others did not commemorate yoga. After that, as it was ordered by the call not to serve wine at the supper, everyone agreed in one flock. Virishili: too much in savings in the amount of wine to add to the sum, assigned to the library. About her bula dovga rozmov at the supper, but about the burner, no words!

Not the same old sailor who told me about too many hours! “It used to be, you’ve changed from the cold and wet watch - that’s how you wistachish flasks of six punch! ..” - saying wine. Faddeєv vlastuvav me softly, and I, unconcerned about the zhovten, on the plank, on the vіsіmhund poods of gunpowder, that lay under their feet, falling asleep, as if rarely sleeping on the birch, languishing with the troubles of moving, stabbing fresh again and new, unacceptable. Lies, I just rolled over, as if I had bobbed at the cabin of my mіsk servant, who did not come ashore in the evening and spent the night with the sailors. Barin! - having said to the weavers in a blessed voice, - do not travel, for Christ's sake, by the sea! - "Kudi?" - "Where are you going: to the end of the world." - “How can you go?” - "The sailors said that you can do it with a dry path." - "Why not by the sea?" - "Ah, Lord! yakі passions rozpovіdat. It seems that he is from the tsієї logs, which are hanging across the top ... "-" Z ray, - I corrected. - What happened? - “At a storm in the wind, fifteen people were blown by the sea; forcibly withdrew, and one drowned. Do not travel, for Christ's sake!" Having listened to our conversation, Faddiev reminded that there is nothing to roll, but that it’s such a mist on the sea, de “twist”, and if the ship is “twisting” like this, then immediately turn uphill with a keel. "How are you, - I asked, - and de takі mіstsya?" - “Where is the month? - repeating the vin, - know the navigator, do not go there.

Father, we took anchor. The sea is boisterous and zhovte, gloomy sіrі, impenetrable; the board and the snow went alternately - the axis that saw us off from the fatherland. Vanty and tackle ice-drinkers. Sailors in flannelette coats huddled up to buy. The frigate, with a creak and a haystack, shifted from wind to wind; the shore, through which I went, digging in the mists. The shift officer, wearing a fluffy coat and a gluey casket, staring at the sight, pretending not to put down the name of anything, the cream of the sun, which gave him complete freedom to freeze and get wet. Biggest Turboti Bulo didu. In the front sheets I have known you from him and may be my companions. I will not turn to their characteristics, but I will think about the skin to the point of speech, if the devil comes. Didu, like a senior navigational captain, followed the course of the ship. The Finnish inflow is all strewn with milins, but it is miraculously furnished with lighthouses, and in clear weather it is so safe in the new, like on Nevsky Prospekt. And now, in the fog, did, as if not tensing the air, not a moment to bachit the Nerva lighthouse. There was no rest in yoga. Vіn mav tіlki rozmovu, scho about the lighthouse. “It’s like that, - having shown the wine to the skin one, who didn’t manage to reach the lighthouse, among others, - after the rozrakhunk, it’s already possible for me to bachiti yogo. Vіn here, invariably here, against tsієї vanti, - grumbling vin, pointing with a short finger at the fog, - that convict fog conquers. - “Oh, my God! go look at you, why don't you do it? - saying vin komus іz sailor. "And what is it there, why the arrow? .." - I said. De? de? - zhvavo sleeping vin. “Here, get away ...” - I said, pointing in the distance. “Oh, really - get out, get out, so, so! It can be seen, it can be seen! - I said urochisto to the captains, to the senior officer, and to the shift officer, and then to the card to the cabin, then I climbed again. - It can be seen, the axis, the axis is out, everything is visible! - repeating vin, raduchi, nacha poachiv dear father. I pishov miryati and virakhovuvati vuzli.

We went through Gotland. Then I felt the sea believe that, having left this island, the ships were throwing, used to be, a copper coin to the spirit, which is protecting the island, so that they let the wines pass without a drill. Gotland is a stone with steep, even sides, such that there is no way to attack ships. More than once the stench scrambled to succumb to the boisterous spirit, and the fierce sea high up threw their wits, and sometimes corpses, on the steep sides of the inhospitable island. Passed and Bornholm - do you remember "dear Bornholm" and taєmnichi, unfinished legend of Karamzin? Everything was cold and gloomy. On the frigate, cholera broke out, and we, the Danish only, buried three people, that one brave sailor, having sunk in the stormy weather at sea. So was our engagement with the sea, and the prophecy of my servant was often raised. Give additional help, which fell, without sacrificing other people, through strong praise, it was impossible.

And then the days went by their blackness and life on the ship. They performed the service, offended, dined - all on the whistle, and on the whistle they had fun. Obid is also a kind of emergency work. Large cups are attached to the battery deck, they are called “tanks”, where the fire is applied from one scorched, or “brotherly”, boiler. They give one herb: borsch with salted beef, with fish, with yalovichina or porridge; for the supper the same, іnodi porridge. I'm ready to try it once. "Bread is that strong," I said. One of the sailors, with a lot of things, cleanly licked his wooden spoon and served me. Shchi is savory, with a strong seasoning of cibul. Obviously, a mother’s sailor’s slug is needed, so a sailor’s matsion is needed, to digest a lot of corned beef and a cibula with boiled cabbage - loved by sailors and a korisna on the sea grass. “Ale, one fear after an insult - that’s not enough,” I thought, “the sailors, maybe, will be hungry.” - “And what do you see richly?” - I'm asleep. "Goodbye, your high nobility," five voices began to rebuke. True, then in one, then in another group, a sailor with an empty cup to the fraternal cauldron and turning around carefully, carrying the cup to the brim.

Having fun on the whistle, I said; so, there, de zіbrano in tіsnu kupu chotirist cholovіk, i nayveselіshi pіdporyadkovanі zagalnym order. After the insult, after the end of the work, especially during the week, ring out the moon command: “Blow the song on the mountain!” I begin to have fun. I especially remember how wonderfully one week struck me. Cold mist has crooked the sky and the sea In such weather, you want to drink in yourself, get angry, and the sailors sang and danced. The ale stinks danced marvelously: the stronger Rukhs clearly roared out for the serendipity. The races were more modern, virazi guise took care of the importance, brought on a frown, ale tim, here, the stench was trying harder with their feet. Looking straight ahead, with such a gloomy dignity, they were staring at them with a sawy look. Stribok is small looking strained work. Downloaded, zdaetsya, less for svіdomіstu, scho today is holy, oh, you need to have fun. But the yakbees would say they were satisfied, the stench would be dissatisfied.

Swimming became monotonous and, I know, tedious: the whole sky is gray, the same sea, the board with snow, or the snow with the board - even for someone. My teeth have already fallen ill. Rheumatism guessing about yourself zhvavіshe, nizh be-if. I’ve been lying for a few days, wrapping myself in warm carpets, with a tied cheek.

Only the white shores of Denmark blew warmth on us, and we came to life. Cholera has become familiar with signs, my rheumatism has faded, and I have become street- so I called the deck. Ale storms did not leave us: such a sound on the Baltic Sea in autumn. Pass a day or two - quietly, first the wind picks up with strength, and then we will hit it so that the vessel is stony, as if it is alive. Day and night on the ship, it’s stoking behind the camp after a while. The barometer fights like a wild oracle. The sailor and the officer do not dare to sleep peacefully in their shift. "Pishov all up!" - moon and midnight silence. I, lying in my bed, feel every knock, cry, every rush, winded, command words and I begin to understand the rest. If you feel the order: "Put the brace, fox," you calmly wrap yourself in a carpet and zasin without a turbo: already, quietly, calmly. Then yak zagostrish wuha, if you punish "brother two, three reefs", then change the windshield. It’s better not to sing it again: all the same, you’ll just slip out of the way.

Having started talking about vitrils, I’ll tell you before the speech how the vitril system worked on me. Whoever enjoys this system, bachachi in it is a proof of the power of a person over the turbulent element. I swear I am unacceptable, to prove that Yogo is powerless to heal the water. Look at the arrangement of that tidying up the windows nearby, at the foldability of the mechanism, at the chain of gear, ropes, motuzok, kintsiv and motuzok, for which skin adjusts its own special recognition and є necessary lanka in a lanky lance; to marvel at the number of hands, as if to bring them to the hands. At the same time, to some incomparable result, use the cunning! It is not possible to name the arrival of a glass ship, it is impossible to fight against an unacceptable wind, it is impossible to break back, having stumbled upon a mile, it is not possible to turn the wind in the opposite direction, it is not possible to sling in one mile. In the calm the ship sleeps, with the opposite wind laviring, it wiggles, deceives the wind and wins only a third of a straight path. Aje kіlka thousands of rokіv killed those who, shchob vigaduvat vіtrila і on the moths near the capital. At the skin moth, at the skin tack, flowers, tablets read history, like a way to roll people have the right to sail the sea in a friendly wind. Weaked up to thirty: on the skin under the wind falls on the windshield. There, maybe, it’s marvellous to the side, if on the endless smoothness of the waters the ship is sailing, flaming with white glass, like a swan, and if you eat a cobweb of gear, there’s no way to pass through, then you won’t be able to prove your strength, but rather hopelessness for thoroughness win. The sailing ship is similar to an old coquette, like to blush, get full, pull up ten backs and tighten into a corset, to climb on a kohantsa, and catch on a fluff; but only youth and freshness of strength will appear - all the troubles will fly into gunpowder. І vitrilne ship, wrapped in hanks, hung with vitrils, riє there, groaning and groaning, whiling; and the trochs are blown into the foreheads - wings and hung. Up to par, perhaps, you could not write about those, but rather be aware that from de de it went to the one that floats by the sea with a fair wind. The deyakі know that there is less poetry in steamboats, that wine is not so grotesque, ugly. That’s why they didn’t see: yakbi steamboats founded thousands of rocks, and the windows of the ship, not long ago, the human eye, obviously, knew more luck in this ship, apparently the ship, on which they don’t throw themselves from hut to hut, tormenting people, trying to drink. but to stand at idleness, arms crossed on chests, man, with peace of mind, that strength is squeezed under your feet, that the forces of the sea are strong, that you serve your own storm, and calmness. They took me away for a short time to show off, like a windshield blowing out of the windshield, like a frigate, lying sideways on the water, less often and rushing twelve knots a year. “So the steamboat won’t go!” - tell me. "Zate the steamboat, zavzhdi pide." Woe to the sailor of the old school, who has all the mind, all science, mysticism, and behind them self-love and ambition spread through the rigging. On the right is virishena. Vitrilas were lost to the share of other ships and poor craftsmanship; everything else took hold of the couple. There will be no great glass ships at the next shipyard; navit old ones are recycled on steam. When we were at the Portsmouth Admiralty, the ship was already ready to be taken apart and a steam engine was put in.

winoski

1 A. N. Maikov ( upright. Goncharova).

2 behind the landing ( lat.)

3 V. G. Benediktov and A. N. Maikov ( upright. Goncharova).

4 "Right, Great Britain, by the seas" ( English)

5 giant crocs (fr.).

Travel notes “Frigate “Pallada”. The work on the novel "Oblomiv" was interrupted by the extraordinary life of Goncharov. In 1852, the roci writer accepts a request from Admiral E. V. Putyatina take a part in the famous sailing on the Viysk frigate "Pallada" as the secretary of the expedition. The clerk guessed for a year: “Everyone marveled that I could be called on such a distant and unsafe path - I, such a lazy, rozpescheny! Whoever knows me, that one is not disturbed by this rіshuchostі. Raptovі change to form my character, I will never be the same two tizhnіv order ... "July 7, 1852 Goncharov from Kronstadt breaks in the greater lower Trinity swimming (1852-1855), taking with him to draw future novels "Oblomiv" and.

In the next hour, the writer will be more expensive, having anticipated the life of the present day of England, taking a trip to the glibs of the Capstan colony (Pivdenna Africa), seeing Angers (on the island of Java), Singapore, Hong Kong, Shanghai, Manila, having known the inhabitants of the Japanese port of Nagasak for a long time. On the way back, I went through the whole of Siberia. The creative result of the expensive became two volumes of drawings "Frigate" Pallada ", as if they were written as books in 1858.

At first glance, the entire writing of the writer lies on the sidelines of the main ideological and mystical noises in the genre of the socio-psychological novel; It is not for nothing that the writing of road drawings in the history of Russian literature for a long time was skillful to interpret as a kind of psychological rewiring, to remember the minds of the writer's bajans, to pause, to pause, to work on the novel "Oblomiv". However, new findings have shown that such a look at the space of "Frigate ..." in Goncharov's work is deeply pardoned. It appears that the completion of the economic, sovereign, cultural life of other lands and peoples, having become in favor of Goncharov for a greater understanding of the historical parts of Russia, was going through a moment of radical breakage of the feudal-patriarchal structure of life and was preparing to become a leader in the development of capital. Watching over the cultural and economic way of life, such a classical land of capitalism, like England, against the closed feudal way of life of Japan over the rest, helped Goncharov to see the historical necessity of the appearance in Russia of his Stolts and Tushins, like antagonists Volokhov, Rays. It should be noted that the image of Stolz in the creative history of "Oblomov" began to actively take shape just before the hour of the writer's great swimming. With pictures of Russian life, with national images and types, go through a lot of road coverings and descriptions of vdachas and pobutu of foreign peoples. For example, the idyllic atmosphere on the ship gives the writer a vague picture of the life of a far-off steppe Russian village that looks like Oblomivka. The portrait of a black woman immediately recalls in the memory of the author the image of an old peasant woman, dark, wrinkled, with a thin coat on her head. Negri, who is playing at the card, stuns to guess the atmosphere of a servitor's lackey, the sight of a tagai is a characteristic gesture of a Russian commoner, the Chinese market near Shanghai is a Moscow tovkuchka, etc., etc. Before the eye of a reader, a magnificent gallery of human characters, images two-trioma strokes, ale for the living and unforgettable. The axis of the Negro beauty and the handguard - the charitable old one from Porto Praia, the axis of the charіvna mis Caroline, the good-natured cunning Kawadzi, the respectful Chinese wealthy, the servant of the servant Richard and rich, rich and others. Goncharov pragmatically guard these new people for the most trivial, the simplest manifestations of their future. Vіn diligently unique unique exotics, picturesque poses in descriptions, as if invariably attracting the mandriving man's eyes from foreign lands and zvichaїv. At the same time, it is unique to the navmis naturalism, the lack of factographic nature of the “natural school”, gazing at the everyday character of the manifestations of the deep human ideals and vices, de b the stench did not growl.

For pіdіtkami characteristics okremih osіb Goncharov pragne pіdіti to the characteristics of the entire people zagalom. Through, it would seem, swidkoplenni zamalovka pobutu that zvichaїv draw namagaєt taєmnitsyu national character, the soul of the national life of different lands. I tse go to you bliskuche. For example, evaluating the policy of Japan's sovereign isolationism, Goncharov perspicaciously guesses the lack of individuality and inconsistency with the real spiritual needs of the nation. In the opinion of the writer, the Japanese people "see a strong need for development, and this need is promoted richly in chomu." The Japanese are "comrades, they are eager to splurge on novelty." Nareshti, following the whiskers: “Skills in their life are crying under the influence of apathy, skills of cheerfulness, playfulness! Kupa zdіbnosti, gifted - everything is visible in the dribnitsa, at the empty rose, but it is also visible that there is no more zmist, that all the powers of life have boiled over, they have burned out and make new, refreshing cobs. OKRIM PRIZOROVOSTII ASTORY PRODOKOVIEIV GONCHAROVA PRO SHIP MITIBNO ZAYUISHLA TO P'ITIRKI NAVIZNE KRAYUT SVITU, IS NOT VIRTUCHES IN THE COCH WITH WINDOW IS KNEOVAYA EQUIMA SIKHONIO LADE ROSІІY, IS PUBLY BAGATI in HEW » and help. new, refreshing grounds”. In this way, through the description of Japan, Goncharov is trying to convey the future historical future of Russia, which, by the very course of the world's civilization, sooner or later was destined to develop its spiritual and cultural isolation and merge with the family of European peoples. You can take a good look at the well-known historian of Russian literature B.M. on the conquest of the earth's backyard, on the underside of the expanse of that hour at all the corners of light.<...>The theme of the “colossal zavdannya”, as if timidly pulling Aduev in “Zvichayniy istorii” and not far off was symbolized in the past in Stolz, bursts forth here in the wide expanses of the world on a brighter road with a wine-coloured glare, warming up and inconsistency. The other sides of “Frigate...” sound like a direct anthem to the genius of a man, її zazyatіy, neutomnіy pratsі, її the strength of that masculinity. Those who once did not go as far as Goncharov into this Russian hero, knew that they were here more than that outward expression ... "

So, having brought the writer-drawer alive to the creative genius of Goncharov-novelist, having helped him to know that historical perspective on the problems of Russian life, without any image of the heroes of Oblomov and Obriva, they have significantly lost in the scale and depth of artistic expression.

Ivan Goncharov worked as a secretary of Admiral Putyatin from 1852 to 1855, having made a great sailing. Dodom Goncharov, writing great reports, in which they wrote their own thoughts. Ignored yogo only by the presence of a return zv'yazka, through which there was no hopefulness, that the leaves reached the addressee. The dekilka of leaves was rightly ruined, but Goncharov was not very happy, knowing about the zhalyugidniy camp of the state government, and none of them rejoiced at the negative aspects of the main services from the delivery of parcels and leaves. With whom Goncharov sends a postal service to the English part of the world beyond the heavens, showing on the її butt the possibility of giving a fictitious service. Most of the way was passed by the English Volodymyrs, hopping for visits to the Spanish Philippines and the Japanese islands. Yakby did not follow the Crimean war, then Goncharov, having gone up the road to America, defended the war already for those who had a conflict, like having saved them, without finding them in quiet places, de stinks would have been blown into the world, otherwise they were simply sunk.

Being a secretary, Goncharov does not hurry to share information about negotiations, or be some other information, volitionally wiggle on the papyrus of his own goodness in the face of people, like to live in a way in that way of life, to a certain wine sound. The Chitachevs will have a chance to get lost in impersonal conditions: Gocharov will gradually stray into them, trying to grab the maximum amount of space available to him for maneuvering. Screaming wines to carry out a fight with Russia, interpreting richly on the savagery of the native land, which is not only a pleasantly varied climate, but also set to life. Why do you drink tea that gets used everywhere, but at your own differently looking. Even though this herbal drink more guesses the similarity of burdi, then in other places wines are sooner with a potion, as it is used for specific purposes. At the skin port "Pallada" there was a trival hour;

Really, it’s possible to write about the sea more expensive? Nothing seems to fit, but you are less likely to struggle with boredom, not being able to know what is busy to the soul. For that very reason, Goncharov is less likely to guess about the ship on the cob, so that later on we will forget about the new one, being in the middle of the sounds of foreign peoples. Goncharov's main interest is less than after the Pacific Ocean, if the frigate sails to the coast of Asia. Chitachevі nalezhit dіznatisya yak osoblivostі bureaucracy yapontsіv, quiet nature kitaytsіv i pobozhnostі fіlіppіntsіv and second zrozumіti values vsієї ekspeditsії, chiєyu metoyu ukladannya Bulo Perche trading lands of Yaponієyu, zberіgala closed encampment without vpuskayuchi іnozemtsіv vseredine i dozvolyayuchi svoїm residents іz her contact. How miraculously it will be a laughing read, postering for the visit of the Japanese to the frigate, that they buried meat and desserts in the hoards, marveling at the wildness of their vdachas, the crew of the ship: it’s true, Goncharova, it’s important to oburiti - in guessing the recent past of Russia.

Goncharov's travel notes should be read only with the method of recognition of the light-minded Russian people of the middle of the 19th century, who did not know and did not stick in their life with people of another shtibu, whose culture radically changed in the light of the sun. How can one not praise Goncharov for such a watchfulness about how to snuggle up at the entrance to the premises, or the legs, which close up at the Japanese, like sitting in an armchair. And how can a reader take the old Japanese fun of placing the same type of objects one on one, why should Russians use one of their national bans? Japan for Goncharov is similar to the attachment of stone wool, which was valued more expensively than gold in the first hour.

Light changed from that hour, but not so dramatically, so that in Goncharov's travel notes one could know the details of the day.

Linear side: 1 (the book has 45 sides in front) [accessible reading lines: 11 sides]

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200th anniversary of the birth of the great Russian writer Ivan Oleksandrovich Goncharov is consecrated

In the first hour of the first century, Magellan and Elkano traveled more than two hundred years ago, it was more expensive that it began on July 7, 1852. on the roadstead of Kronstadt, all the same became an extraordinary podієyu. First, the circumnavigations were still farther, and the Russian sailors under the command of Ivan Kruzenshtern first went around the Earth in the first place. In a different way, how many times did they go not just like that, but with a special and important mission - “to open up” Japan, to make it easier to get out of the country, as if only a little bit, but at first, they came out of the bagatov’s policy of zhorsky isolationism. Thirdly - more expensive on the frigate "Pallada" was destined to reach the history of Russian and secular literature. Vtіm, then about tse few people guessed.

From the look of the camp at the sspіlstvі, Ivan Oleksandrovich Goncharov in 1852. buv absolutely nevidomy - a modest official of the Department of Foreign Trade of the Ministry of Finance, appointments as secretary-translator of the head of the expedition, Vice-Admiral Evfimiya Putyatin. Literary kolakh yogo im'ya already sounded: in 1847 p. the famous Sovremennik, founded by Pushkin, was entrusted with the first significant work of Goncharov - Zvichayna istoriya. Ale yogo golovnі novels - "Oblomiv" and "Shaving" have not yet been written. Yak i "Frigate "Pallada"" - a book for Russian literature of the XIX century. unprecedented.

As if it so happened that Ivan Goncharov accepted as a writer-domosid. Chi that rich Pushkin - and having visited the Crimea, and in the Caucasus. And Dostoevsky from Turgenev vzagali mayzhe all of Europe was robbed. And Goncharov is a classical Russian noble garden, de Petersburg and Moscow is the center of the All-world. Such are the heroes of the writer: Aduev from “Zvichaynoї istoriї”, Illya Illich Oblomov, Raisky from “Obriva”. All stinks are sensible people, but weak-willed, they don’t care, otherwise you can’t change your life. A lot of critics tried to slander whether they had changed the readers, that Goncharov - tse i є Oblomov ... But in this turn, the author showed himself with the full diversity of his characters.

Britain, Madeira, Atlantic, Pivdenna Africa, Indonesia, Singapore, Japan, China, Philippines: to live today, in the era of letaks, it's more expensive - it's not easy to try. And Ivan Goncharov had a chance to go through the whole way with a sailing ship. Bully, of course, blatant weaknesses, the writer of the navіt was going to leave everything and turn back from England to home. Ale vin still vitrimav, diyshov to Japan. Then I had a chance to turn home on horseback through all of Russia. I want the more expensive did not become navkolosvetnoy, tse buv feat for the benefit of their country. I for the benefit of readers. “May you talk about the whole world and talk about it so that you hear the talk without tedium, without impatience,” Ivan Goncharov put such a task before him. І vіn її vikonav.

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H and 2012 fell on the occasion of two anniversary dates: 160 years from that moment, if the frigate "Pallada" broke at its price, and 200 years from the day the people of the people, it was more expensive, glorified the yak. Ivan Oleksandrovich Goncharov was born on 6 (18) chervnya 1812. near Simbirsk. Father and mother Oleksandr Ivanovich and Avdotya Matviyivna belonged to the provincial high society: let me go to the merchants, but rather to the rich. “Ambari, lyokhi, lyokhi perepovnenі were stocks of borosh, various millet and all sorts of provisions for our food that great door. In a word, a lot of children, a village," the writer guessed the batkiv state in an autobiographical drawing.

It would have been better, the future of the young man was smart: you can inherit the father's right. Indeed, everything went its own way - in 1822. Ivan, at the help of his mother (the father died, if the boy had this fate), he was sent to Moscow to study at the commercial school. Learning was tedious, reading became the only breath, Russian classics are ahead of us. About the eighteenth century Ivan did not show up and asked for a matir, so that he was excluded from the school. After some thought about his future place in life, Goncharov decided to enter the Faculty of Literature of Moscow University. At the same hour Lermontov, Turgenev, Aksakov, Herzen, Belinskiy were studying at the university - the forthcoming color of Russian literature and criticism.

In 1834, after graduating from the university, Ivan Goncharov, in his own words, seeing himself as “a free hulk, in front of which he opens all the ways in life.” Truthfully, the paths led Yogo to native Simbirsk, where “there is a great sleepy village”. At Simbіrsk, the Goncharovs did not tremble, wanting to see the relatives less, prote nadіyshla vigіdna propozitsiâ position of the secretary of the governor. Ivan Oleksandrovich waited a while - at that moment he already had a chance to think about pennies - but after eleven months he transferred to the Department of International Trade of the Ministry of Finance, where he was ordered to transfer foreign listings. The place is not worth a penny, but the service is not overly tight, which took a lot of time to occupy the creative. Plus - tse buv Petersburg, then, the possibility of knowing that splkuvannya with creative people. One of these acquaintances resulted in I. A. Goncharov on the frigate "Pallada".

Ivan Oleksandrovich did not intend to become a mandriving man. Ale, like a skinned lad, at children's dreams about the sea, about faraway walks, and if he introduced himself, Goncharov scurried up to him.

* * *

At the living room of the Maykovs, the future writer first leaned back in 1835, before moving to St. Petersburg. Vin became a close friend of the Maykovs, giving the children the heads of their sim's - Mikoli Apollonovich. After a dozen years, one of them, Apollon Mikolayovich, was called upon to break the circumnavigation. I needed a secretary of the head of the expedition, moreover, a man, like a good Russian mother, a writer. If Goncharov recognized that Apollo Maikov was guided by propositions, he was sensible, that he was a chance, and, for this powerful vislov, "all those whom the moment, putting on their feet."

Vtim, it turned out that the expedition’s chief, Vice Admiral E. V. Putyatin, having demanded such a person himself, like Goncharov, did not know even among the writers of the bazhayuchikh violations in the unsafe way more expensive. Ivan Oleksandrovich himself is happy. The forty-year-old man, the “cabinet official”, without choking on feelings, writing about those who were mad in your youthful dreams: the oceans... I have turned: all my dreams and hopes of youth, youth itself has turned before me. Hurry up, get on the road!

Significantly less than two extreme dates: July 7, 1852, if the frigate "Pallada" anchored in the roadstead of Kronstadt, and February 13, 1855, if Ivan Goncharov turned to St. Petersburg. Describe all the podії that vrazhennya for tsі two and a half roki, which would be enough for a dozen lives of that book, for a small stati - on the right it’s not enough. What a marvelous thing, Ivan Goncharov, from one side, having seen his obsession in front of the readers, that need to describe more expensively, but beyond that - the thought of writing a great book came to a new one not immediately. From England wines to ask friends not to show their leaves to anyone, shards of stench "strength without any kind and are written nedbalo", and only on the cob of 1853 r. ask to save the leaves, stink shards can be needed "for notes."

Already two months after the turn at the "Vitchiznyaniye Zapiski", and then at the "Marine Selection" and "Suchasnik" the first drawings about the expedition on the frigate "Pallada" appeared. For example, the head of the "Russian Japan" looked like a god of fortune. The first edition of the book “Frigate “Pallada”” was born in 1857; for the life of the author (Ivan Goncharov died in 1891) there was less than five years.

* * *

Kolya, May 22, 1854 the frigate "Pallada" sailed to the Imperial (ninth Radyansk) Harbour, and its crew found out about those that England and France announced Russia's war. The ship was towed in a safe place on the Amur, a prote storm severely shoveled the Pallada and as a result the frigate was moored in the Imperial Harbor for the winter. At the quarter 1855 "Pallada" was detected by the ships of the Kamchatka Flotilla of Rear Admiral V.S. September 31, 1856 the frigate Pallada was sunk.

The book with the same title was not spit by ice itself. The author himself is ready to flood її. In 1879, before moving on to the third edition, Ivan Oleksandrovich wrote that “I can’t inspire any more [books] seen, thinking that she has lived her time.” But the readers thought differently, and the book outlived the author for a long time. Hours are changing, technologies are getting better, speed is growing, and the “Pallada” Frigate, as before, was read, read and read…

PART OF PERSH

I. View of Kronstadt to Miss Lizard

Take it, say goodbye, that exit at Kronstadt. - Frigate "Pallada". - The sea and the sailors. - Cabin company. - Finnish flood. - Fresh wind. - Sea sickness. - Gotland. - Cholera on the frigate. - Falling people by the sea. - Screenshot. - Kattegat and Skagerrak. - German Sea. - Dogger's bank and Galoper lighthouse. - Leave the ship. - Fishermen. - British Channel and Spitgedsky raid. – London. - Wellington's funeral. – Notes about English and English. - Return to Portsmouth. - Living on the Camperdown. - A stroll through Portsmouth, Southsea, Portsea and Gosport. - Checking the fair wind on the Spitges roadstead. - Evening ahead of Christmas. - The silhouette of English and Russian. - Vidplitya.

M I wonder how they could not take away the first leaf from England, from 2/14 leaf fall of 1852 to the year, and the other from Hong Kong, the same month, de the share of the sheet is celebrated, as if about the share of the new people’s ignorance. In England and її colonies, the leaf is a sacred object, which is to pass through thousands of hands, by those other roads, across the oceans, from pіvkulі to pіvkul, and to know inevitably the one to whom it was sent, as if only alive, and so it’s inevitable to turn, stars nadislano, that Vіn died, or he himself returned there. Have the leaves on the mainland been ruined, have the Danish chi Prussian Volodya? And now, it’s better to work on the investigation about such rubbish: I’ll write more better, as it’s only necessary.

From this one can see that everyone, who has not been on the sea, is still in the memory of Cooper’s old novels, or rospovidi Mariet about the sea and sailors, about captains, as they didn’t put enough passengers on the lance, they could shoot and hang the underdogs, about accidents ship, earthquake. “There the captain will put you on the very top,” my friends and acquaintances told me (often you, remember?), “Tell me not to give, to hang on an empty shore.” - "For what?" I drank. “Just don’t sit down like that, don’t walk like that, smoke a cigar, it’s not ordered.” - “I work everything, how to work there,” - lagidno vіdpovіv I. “They called out to sit at night, and there, as the sun went down, so all the fires were put out,” others said, “and the noise, the clatter, the smell, the cry!” - “Zіsp'єte vy there s cola! - the deacons lapped - Fresh water is rare there, more and more rum is drunk. - "Kіvshami, I myself am a bachelor, I am on a ship," adding htos. One old woman kept vainly shaking her head, marveling at me, and asked me to go "better along the dry path to the world."

Shche pani, reasonable, sweet, cried, if I came to say goodbye to her. I zdivuvavsya: I swam with her all three times on the river and in a moment I didn’t swim three rocks, even stilts, skils are necessary for a great swimming, I wouldn’t mind. "What are you crying about?" - I asked. "Meni shkoda you," - she said, wiping her tears. "Skoda to the fact that the zayva of the people is still a rozvaga?" - I respected. “Did you grind a lot for my rozvaga?” Vaughn said. I stood at a deaf kut: about what are you crying about? “I’m just a Skoda, what do you see, bozna-kudi.” Evil took me. The axis is how to marvel at our enviable share of the mandrivnik! “I understood your tears, yakbi tse were tears of zazdrosti,” I said, “yakbi you were shkoda, that on my, and not on your part, you fall down there, where there’s nothing for us, bachiti miracles, about those here And I think it’s important that I see the whole great book, for the first time I dare to read the first page ... ”I showed him with a kind warehouse. “Repeat,” she said vaguely, “I know everything; at what cost would you happen to read that book? Think about what you are checking for, what you will suffer, how many chances will not turn around! Vіm, don't believe in tears, - she added, - but I'm not crying for you: I just cry.

The thought of їhati, like a hmіl, clouded my head, and I, without a turbo and hotly, gave that warning to all the conversations, while the approach was far away. I’ve been dreaming - and dreaming for a long time - about my voyage, maybe, z tієї hvilini, if the reader told me that it’s possible to go from the right bank of the Volga, to which I having been born, and turn from the left; I wanted to go there myself, the girl would point her finger at the equator, the poles, the tropics. But if we sweat in the form of a card and in the view of the reader's vkazіvka, I passed on to the feats and benefits of Cooks, Vancouver, I was embarrassed: what before the feats of the heroes of Homer, Ajax, Achilles and Hercules himself? Children! The unselfish mind of a boy who was born in the middle of the mainland and did not succumb to the sea, numb in front of the zhahs and bids, which are similar to the paths of swimmers. Ale with years, fears were smoothed out in memory, and they lived in reality, and survived youth, only pictures of tropical forests, blue sea, golden, rainbow sky.

“Ni, I don’t want to go to Paris,” remember, I repeated to you, “not to London, not to Italy, as if sonorously you didn’t sleep about it, sings 1
A. N. Maikov ( Note. I. A. Goncharova).

- I want to go to Brazil, to India, I want to go there, de the sun calls out life from a stone, and immediately instructs me to turn a mustache on a stone, which I will hit with my fire; de man, like our forefather, rve carrying a plaid, de nisporing a lion, plaza serpent, de reigning eternally summer, - there, at the light of the palace of God, the world, de nature, like a bayadère, go wild, de stuffy, it’s scary to live, de the fantasy is strong before we prepare the folds, where the eyes do not get tired of marveling, but the heart beats.

Everything was mysterious and fantastically miraculous in the enchanting far away: happy people walked and turned around with a pleasant, but deaf story about miracles, with childish clouds of mystery of the world. Ale, a man appeared, a sage and sings, and touched the taemnichi kuti. Vіn pіshov there with a compass, a spade, a compass and a penzle, from the heart, let's go to the Creator and love to Yogo svetobudovi. Vіn vnіs zhittya, roznіd i svіd vіd kamyanі emptіlі, іn the wilderness lіsіv і by the power of light rіzіnіnnya showed the way to thousands behind him. "Space!" Even more I wanted to look alive with my eyes at the living space. "Having given me, - I thought, - a trustingly wise hand, like a grown-up child, becoming bi respectfully hearing, and, yakbi osozumіv nastilki, naskіlki child razumіє clouded uncle, I'm buve rich and sim miserable razuminnyam." Ale and tsya dream fell into the wake for riches іnhim. The days were fleeting, life was threatening with empty, days, evening weekdays: days, even though they were sometimes different, were angry in one languidly-one-mantic mass of fates. Pozіhannya for the right, for a book, pozihannya at the performance, and she herself pozihannya in galaslivyh gatherings and in a friendly conversation!

I was destined to resurrect the world, to destroy the soul, to guess the heroes I had long forgotten for a long time. Raptom and I follow them around the world! I shuddered gladly at the thought: I will be in China, in India, I will overflow the oceans, I will set foot on those islands, I will walk in the first simplicity of the dikun, I will marvel at the diva - and my life will not let me see other, nabridlih manifestations. I revived; all the dreams and hopes of youth, youth itself turned before me. Hurry up, get on the road!

My life seemed to have been divided, because they gave me two lives in raptom, they saw an apartment near two worlds. In one, I am a modest official, in a uniform tailcoat, who is afraid in front of the boss's glance, who is afraid of a cold, affliction on the walls of a kilkom with dozens of similar one-on-one coats, uniforms. Otherwise, I am a new argonaut, at a straw capelus, at a white llanium, perhaps, with a tyutyun bug in my mouth, which is inaccessible to Colchis through the days behind the golden fleece, which is changing climates, skies, seas, powers. There I am the editor of dopovіdey, stosunkіv that order; here - spivak, ex officio, hike. How to survive another life, become a hulk of the other world? How to replace the fearfulness of an official and the apathy of a Russian writer with the energy of seafaring, the lowliness of a city dweller - the rudeness of a sailor? I have not been given any other brushes, or new nerves. And then, in raptom, from walks near Peterhof and Pargolovo, roll up to the equator, star up between the Pivdenny Pole, from Pivdenny to Pivnichny, cross the oceans, clear five continents and turn around ... ; soul vydvіduv and drib'yazkovy fear, if I zaglyublyuvsya at the report analysis of the future voyage. Sea sickness, climate change, tropical speck, evil fever, animals, wild birds, storms - everything fell into a thought, especially storms.

Although I am without a turbot, I have shown everything, often outrageous, often funny, guarding friends, but fear often in the day and at night, dazzle me, give me a bead. Then the skele appeared, beating as if our broken ship was lying down, and stomping for nothing, grabbing with weary hands behind the smooth stone; then I dreamed that I was on an empty island, wandering from the ship’s hull, dying of hunger ... I threw myself in trepidation, with drops of sweat on my forehead. Aje ship, what a wine is not a mitzny, like it is not stuck to the sea, what is it? - Triska, cat, epigram on human strength. I'm afraid that I'll see the invisible organism of the faceless suvorih conditions, its sharp turn from a peaceful life to a constant battle with new and sharp manifestations of a vagrant pobutu? So, nareshti, chi stitch the souls together with a rapt picture of the world, which is developing uncontrollably? Adzhe tse zukhvalіst mayzhe titanic! De take the strength, shobi to take the mass of the great hostility? And if the soul of these miraculous guests escapes into the soul, why should the Lord himself not feast in the midst of his banquet?

In Australia, carriages and carriages; the Chinese began to wear Irish linen; in the East Indies speak all English; American savages from the fox rush to Paris and London, ask to go to the university; in Africa, black men begin to wear their own colors and offal, wear white mittens. Only with great hardships and windfalls you can drink in the ring the boa constrictor and the claws of the tiger and the lion. China has been creaking for a long time, and yet the screen from the old moth was cracked - the lid flew out of the loops, pidirvana with gunpowder. Europeans rush at the ganchir'ya, away, if you happen to you at once, novlyuє, gospodaryu... Mine is still three hours, and you will not become a diva, a hoard, a hoard, a woe. And now there is no sea water, її roam with fresh water, for five thousand miles from the shore there is a dish of fresh green game; under the equator you can eat Russian cabbage soup. Parts of the world are close to each other: from Europe to America - at hand; Let’s think that we’ll go there in forty spring years - poof, it’s extremely hot, but a modern pouf that is pulling on the future gigantic successes of navigation. Hurry, hurry on the road! Poetry of distant mandrivoks is known not today, but every day. We, perhaps, remain mandrivers, at the sensi Argonauts: on us, on our turn, look at the fate of that hell.

There is no science about the price: authorities, starting from Aristotle up to and including Lomonosov, murmur; more expensive did not waste the ferrule of rhetoric 2
Tobto not lay low in the face of the rules of the Krasnomovstvo. (Here it’s nadali, as it is not assigned otherwise, - editor’s notes).

And the writer is free to make his way into the nadra gіr, or sink into the depths of the oceans, with a great drink, or, perhaps, on the wings of a breathless shoe and catch the passing on the papyrus; to describe the lands of the people historically, statistically, it’s less to marvel, like taverns, - in a word, no one has been given a stylka of space and no one can write clearly, like mandrivnikov. Chi talk about the theory of winds, about the direct course of the ship, about the latitude and long time to confirm that such a land was under the water, and the axis of the bottom was named; this island looks like fire, and that one looks like water; the cob of the country is brought up to such an hour, the people look like, and with whom you diligently write down the names of the great authorities, stars, what and how? Alée, you feed something that's squeaky. Everything I say is already important; mandrivnikovi ashamedly take care of everyday life: wine is guilty of attaching to himself more importantly to what he hasn’t known for a long time, but to that, it’s possible, boulo, or maybe not. “Vіdіshlіtse up to a great suspіlstva, to the academy,” you say, “but if you speak with people, be it illumined, write otherwise. Give us miracles, poetry, fire, life and farb!”

Everything is so sonic, everything is so possible. Navpaki, I have seen miracles: there are none in the tropics. Everything is the same, simple. Two times fate, and that’s what they say, but it’s true: it’s hot for the winter, but it’s stingy for the wind; and you have there, on the "distant pіvnochі", chotiri seasons, and that's for the calendar, but really they're all the same. Over the luggage, there at the apartment there is no summer, to starve, and in the black forest the winter is not passed, to powder it with snow, then with rapt it will be baked, like a congratulations to the tropics, and all the flowers and smell like five whilins for these terrible promises. Striking three on the river Finnish inflow and the blue sky, which covers its curves, dress up in a black color and smile, being merciful one by one, and pivnichna people, going from St. radius: tree, flower and creature. At the tropics, now, the land of eternal marshmallow, eternal speck, peace and blue of the sky and the sea. Everything is one-man!

I poetry changed its sacred beauty. Your music, love songs 3
V. G. Benediktov and A. N. Maikov. ( Note. I. A. Goncharova)

The legitimate daughters of parnassky kam'yans, as if they would not give you an obliging lyre, would not show on that poetic image, which is thrown into the eyes of a new mandriving man. What an image! Not glittering with beauty, not with the attributes of strength, not with a demonic fire in his eyes, not with a sword, not in a crown, but simply in a black tailcoat, with a round capelus, with a white vest, with a parasol in his hands. Ale is the image of your panuє in the world over the minds and passions. Vіn usyudi: I do yoga in England - on the streets, behind the shop counter, at the legislator's chamber, on the stock exchange. All the subtlety of the image of this one, with blue eyes, shine in the thinnest and white shirts, in the smoothly-naked bodice and beautifully combed rusyavih rudih sideburns. I wrote to you, like me, chasing the windy wind, three thousand in the beer cold, ran across the shores of Europe, as if falling down on us was a blow of the gir Maderi lagidniy promin of the sun and, after a gloomy, gray-lead sky and such a sea, the blacks were swallowed up. , the blue skies shone, as we greedily rushed to the shore to warm ourselves with the hot breath of the earth, as if they reveled a mile away in the plowed fields of the flowers, which were blown from the shore. We gladly gathered on the whirling shore, the oleandry fled.

I churned the crop and zupinivsya Zdivovano, embarrassed: like, and under the sky, among the brightly glittering farb of the green sea ... there were three familiar images in black cloth, near the round drops! The stench, spiraling on the parasols, commandingly marveled at their blue eyes at the sea, on the ships and at the mountain that rose above their heads and was overgrown with vineyards. I'm on the mountain; under the porticos, between the festoons of grape greenery, glimpsing that very image; with a cold and strict look, stitching wines, like the nativs of the swaggering inhabitants of the day, they mined, drenched in sweat, expensive sik of their soil, like barrels of barrels to the shore, and sent them far, taking away the right to eat the bread of their land for the sake of the rulers. In the ocean, in mittiev zustrіch, that same image is visible on the deck of the ships, whistling through the teeth: “Rule, Britannia, upon the sea 4
Volodya, Britain on the seas (English).

". I’m cultivating yoga on the sands of Africa, to follow the work of the Negro, on the plantations of India and China, in the middle of baling tea, with a glance and a word, my dear mother, which I punish with the peoples, ships, garmats, which are ruined by the inexorable natural forces of nature ... Scream and all the image of an English merchant is mooning over the elements, over the human race, triumphing over nature!

Ale finish robiti pas de geʹants 5
Giant crocs (French).

: rise in price memorably, step by step I already managed to visit you in the palm forests on the oceans, without leaving Kronstadt. It’s not easy: it’s not easy, climbing somewhere to forgive, to Kiev from the village to Moscow, the mandriving man can’t be fooled, throwing ten times in a bunch of relatives and friends, having a snack, sitting lean, then raising a parcel, you need an hour, to destroy people - to Japan. Three times I traveled to Kronstadt, and everything was still not ready. Vіd'їzd vіdkladavsya on the prey, and I turned back to spend the day there, de provіv roіv sіnadtsatі і dreamed of living. Chi pobachu I novu tsі chapters and crosses? - I said goodbye to my thoughts, vіdvalyuyuchi in the fourth and vostannє vіd English embankment.

Nareshti, July 7, the frigate "Pallada" weighed anchor. Zim began for me to live, in which skin ruh, skin crotch, skin lesions were not similar to kolishni.

Nezabar, everything was fluttering on the frigate, doti indestructible. The mustache of a chotirist man to the crew stood on the deck, prowled the command words, a lot of sailors climbed uphill on the shrouds, like flies they clung to the yards, and the ship was filled with windows. Ale, the wind was not fair, and to this we were pulled by a strong steamboat and returned to the wind, and we began to fight with the gurgling, which was rising, otherwise, like sailors, they seem to be “fresh” with the wind. A strong hitavice began. Alas, this first storm didn’t hit me a little: not being in the sea, I thought, why can’t I be like this, why don’t I do it anyway, so that the ship will always go off on the offending sides, the deck will turn back and forth and the sea won’t be thrown over. on the head.

Tse draw, among them, the tripartite is described more expensive than Goncharov himself from 1852 to 1855 rec. At the entrance, the writer tells about those who did not dare to publish their own records as a tourist or a sailor. It just means that the artistic form is more expensive.

More expensively I went on a frigate under the name "Pallada". The author sailed through England to the number of colonies near the Pacific Ocean. Civilized people are little stuck with other worlds and cultures. Just like the English, they reproached nature and worked at the fast pace of industrialization, the colonies lived with love for nature, part of the cycle of nature. To this Goncharov, out of satisfaction, parted from vain England and the sea to the tropics, to the poles.

The author will rise in price with foreign lands and Russia. Siberia is described as a colony with a struggle for wildness. Describe the teeth of the Decembrists. Goncharov from satisfaction with life in England and Russia. The vanity of the industrial world compares with the calm, calm lives of Russian helpers, who sleep on featherbeds and don’t mind wandering around. Only the piven of the building will wake up such a gentleman. Without Yegorka's servant, like, having picked up the plumage, hastened to go fishing, the panich is not built to know his speech, to dress up. Having drunk tea, sir shukkaє in the calendar is holy, but what is the day of the people, to celebrate.

Goncharov accepts exoticism realistically, while looking for similarities. A black-haired African woman knows rice as a swarthy Russian grandmother. Parrots squat like our humpbacked ones, only dressed up, but they dig in all sorts of nasty things.

In the descriptions of the voices and likes of sailors among the people, the writer reveals his objectivity, irony and generosity. The ship's writer vvazha with a piece of the fatherland, similar to the steppe settlement. They accused Goncharova that the naval officers were hot piaki, but everything turned out wrong. The world of miraculous animals and birds is described by the author through the prism of Krylov's tales.

The climax is more expensive - a visit to Japan. Traditions and peculiarities of the culture of the country stand out as a miracle. Goncharov announces the arrival of European civilization and soon. At the expense of all the more expensive, Goncharov rob the whiskers, so that the prosperity of the peoples can be mutual, and not the prosperity of one for the exploitation of the other.

Create from Literature: Short Zmist Frigate Pallada Goncharov

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Goncharov's book of drawings "Frigate" Pallada " became the basis of Goncharov's navkolosvetnogo voyage, in a kind of bourgeois and patriarchal light order, it took away the comprehension that could be lost. The path of the writer lay through England to the numerous colonies in the Pacific Ocean. From a mature, industrially developed modern civilization to Read More ......
Road drawings “Frigate “Pallada” may have great artistic significance. M. A. Nekrasov, who correctly recognized the originality of the style of drawing, indicating “the beauty of the viklad, the freshness of the light and that artistic darkening of the farb, as to become a special feature of the description of M. Goncharov, without exposing anything sharply, Read More ......
Having shaved the St. Petersburg day, heal until evening, and all those who ring out at the card table, for the whole hour, bring themselves to a good look. Two friends are getting married - Boris Pavlovich Raisky and Ivan Ivanovich Ayanov - I will spend the evening again Read More ......
Zvichayna іstorіya This summer's early morning near the village of Hrachi began insidiously: the poor housekeeper Anni Pavlivna Aduyeva was already on her feet against the windfall of all the bags. It’s less to blame for the fuss, the son of Adueva, Oleksandr, having slept, “like following the sleep of a twenty-year-old youth, a heroic dream.” Sum'yatta Read More ......
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Goncharov started at a private boarding house, and ended up reading books by foreign European and Russian authors, and kindly learning French and German language. In 1822 roci entered the Moscow Commercial School. Not finishing yoga, Goncharov joined in 1831 roci on philological education Read More.
The life of the author of "Zvichaynaya istorii" and "Oblomov" did not know strong shocks. And yet, the same unturbulent zeal, as it was seen in the fame of the famous writer, created a reconciliation among the public, which of all the types of Gonchars created by him most inspires Oblomov. Bring to the end of the indulgence Read More ......
Goncharov, as if it were some other writer, pretends to be loyal to exactly what is described, and after that we can know specific words, express his author's position. But you can recognize it through the thoughts of the characters, through the situations in which they smell. Read More ......

Short zmist Frigate Pallada Goncharov