MOU secondary school №3

ABSTRACT on literature

"Rosary" and "White Flock" -

two collections of Akhmatova.

Vanino

Plan

I. Introduction.

II. "Rosary" - intimate experiences of the heroine

1. Features of the collection "Rosary"

a) History of creation

b) individualism of speech

c) main motives

2. Why Rosary?

a) What is the reason for the division of the book into four parts

b) Composition and content of the first movement

c) The movement of the soul of the lyrical heroine in the second part

d) Philosophical motives in the third part

e) the theme of memory in the fourth part

III. "White Flock" - a sense of personal life as a national life,

historical

1. Historical publications and symbolism of the name

2. "Chorus" - beginnings and main themes

IV. Conclusion. Similarities and differences between the two collections

V. List of used literature

VI. Application

A. A. Akhmatova is currently considered as a poet of that period of the twentieth century, which, starting from 1905, covers two world wars, revolution, civil war, Stalin's purge, cold war, thaw. She was able to create her own understanding of this period through the prism of the significance of her own fate and the fate of people close to her, who embodied certain aspects of the general situation.

Not everyone knows that for decades Akhmatova waged a titanic and doomed struggle to convey to her readers the "royal word", to stop being in their eyes only the author of "The Gray-Eyed King" and "mixed gloves." In her first books, she sought to express a new understanding of history and the man in it. Akhmatova entered literature immediately as a mature poet. She did not have to go through the school of literary apprenticeship, which took place before the eyes of readers, although many great poets did not escape this fate.

But, despite this, Akhmatova's creative path was long and difficult. It is divided into periods, one of which is early work, which includes the collections "Evening", "Rosary" and "White Flock" - a transitional book.

Within the early period of creativity, the worldview growth of the poet's consciousness takes place. Akhmatova perceives the reality around her in a new way. From intimate, sensual experiences, she comes to the solution of moral global issues.

In this work, I will consider two books by Akhmatova, published between 1914 and 1917, namely: The Rosary and The White Flock.

The choice of the topic of my work, especially the chapters related to the definition of the symbolism of the title of a poetic book, is not accidental. This problem has been little studied. A relatively small number of works are devoted to her, in which researchers approach the analysis of A. Akhmatova's books in various aspects.

There is no work devoted to a holistic analysis of collections, including an analysis of the symbolism of the titles of A. Akhmatova's books, which, in my opinion, is important, since Akhmatova, when creating a book, always paid special attention to its title.

Thus, the purpose of my work is to study books, as well as the importance of the title of the book in the work of A. Akhmatova. As a result of this, I will get a very vivid and multifaceted idea of ​​the spiritual and biographical experience of the author, the circle of mind, personal fate, and the creative evolution of the poet.

As a result, I have the following tasks:

1. analyze two collections of Akhmatova;

2. identify the main similarities and differences between books;

3. reveal in the abstract such topical issues as the theme of memory and nationality;

4. emphasize religious motives, "intimacy" and "choral" beginnings in these collections;

5. compare the opinions of different critics on one of the issues, compare them and draw a conclusion from this;

6. get acquainted with the theory of the title, analyze the titles of these books from the point of view of reflecting all possible associations in them and trace the dynamics of the formation of the poet's worldview.

§1. "Rosary" - intimate experiences heroines

1. Features of the collection "Rosary"

Akhmatova's second book of poems was an extraordinary success. Her publication in the publishing house "Hyperborey" in 1914 made the name of Akhmatova known all over Russia. The first edition came out in a considerable circulation for that time - 1000 copies. The main part of the first edition of the Rosary contains 52 poems, 28 of which were previously published. Until 1923, the book was reprinted eight times. Many verses of the Rosary have been translated into foreign languages. Press reviews were numerous and mostly favorable. Akhmatova herself singled out an article (Russian Thought. - 1915. - No. 7) by Nikolai Vasilyevich Nedobrovo, a critic and poet with whom she was well acquainted. The poem “You have not been separated from me for a whole year ...” in the “White Pack” is addressed to Nedobrovo.

The epigraph is from E. Boratynsky's poem "Justification".

Like most young poets, Anna Akhmatova often has words: pain, longing, death. This so natural and therefore beautiful youthful pessimism has so far been the property of "pen trials" and, it seems, in Akhmatova's poems for the first time got its place in poetry.

In it, a number of hitherto mute existences acquire a voice - women who are in love, cunning, dreaming and enthusiastic finally speak their authentic and at the same time artistically convincing language. That connection with the world, which was mentioned above and which is the lot of every true poet, Akhmatova is almost achieved, because she knows the joy of contemplating the outside and knows how to convey this joy to us.

Here I turn to the most significant thing in Akhmatova's poetry, to her style: she almost never explains, she shows. This is also achieved by the choice of images, very thoughtful and original, but most importantly - their detailed development.
Epithets that determine the value of an object (such as: beautiful, ugly, happy, unhappy, etc.) are rare. This value is inspired by the description of the image and the relationship of the images. Akhmatova has many tricks for this. To name a few: a comparison of an adjective that specifies color with an adjective that specifies shape:

... And densely dark green ivy

Curled the high window.

... There is a crimson sun

Above the shaggy gray smoke ...

repetition in two adjacent lines, doubling our attention to the image:

...Tell me how they kiss you,

Tell me how you kiss.

... In the snowy branches of black jackdaws,

Shelter for black jackdaws.

turning an adjective into a noun:

... The orchestra is playing cheerfully ...

There are a lot of color definitions in Akhmatova's poems, and most often for yellow and gray, which are still the rarest in poetry. And, perhaps, as confirmation of the non-randomness of this taste of hers, most of the epithets emphasize the poverty and dullness of the subject: “a worn rug, worn-out heels, a faded flag,” etc. Akhmatova, in order to fall in love with the world, you need to see it sweet and simple.

Akhmatova's rhythm is a powerful aid to her style. Pauses help her to highlight the most necessary words in a line, and in the whole book there is not a single example of an accent on an unstressed word, or, conversely, a word, in the meaning of a stressed word, without stress. If anyone takes the trouble to look at the collection of any modern poet from this point of view, he will be convinced that usually the situation is different. The rhythm of Akhmatova is characterized by weakness and shortness of breath. The four-line stanza, and she wrote almost the entire book, is too long for her. Its periods are most often closed with two lines, sometimes three, sometimes even one. The causal connection with which she tries to replace the rhythmic unity of the stanza, for the most part, does not achieve its goal.

The verse became firmer, the content of each line denser, the choice of words chastely stingy, and, best of all, the dispersion of thought disappeared.

But for all its limitations, Akhmatova's poetic talent is undoubtedly rare. Her deep sincerity and truthfulness, refinement of images, insinuating persuasiveness of rhythms and melodious sonority of verse put her in one of the first places in "intimate" poetry.

Almost avoiding word formation, which in our time is so often unsuccessful, Akhmatova is able to speak in such a way that long-familiar words sound new and sharp.

The chill of moonlight and gentle, soft femininity emanates from Akhmatova's poems. And she herself says: "You breathe the sun, I breathe the moon." Indeed, she breathes the moon, and moon dreams tell us her dreams of love, silvered with rays, and their motive is simple, unskillful.

In her poems there is no sunshine, no brightness, but they strangely attract to themselves, beckon with some kind of incomprehensible reticence and timid anxiety.

Almost always Akhmatova sings about him, about the one, about the one whose name is "Beloved". For him, for the Beloved, she saves her smile:

I have one smile.

So. Slightly visible movement of the lips.

For you, I save it ... -

For her beloved, her longing is not even longing, but sadness, “astringent sadness”, sometimes gentle and quiet.

She is afraid of betrayal, loss and repetition, “after all, there are so many sorrows in

way", afraid

What is close, the time is near,

What will he measure for everyone

My white shoe.

Love and sadness, and dreams, everything is woven by Akhmatova with the simplest earthly images, and perhaps this is where her charm lies.

“I… in this gray, everyday dress with worn-out heels,” she says of herself. Her poetry is in everyday dress, and yet she is beautiful, for Akhmatova is a poet.

Her poems are filled with earthly drink, and it is a pity that the simplicity of the earthly often brings them closer to the deliberately primitive.

The feeling of happiness in the heroine is caused by objects breaking through the shutter and, maybe. Carrying death with them, but the feeling of joy from communicating with the awakening, resurgent nature is stronger than death.

The heroine of The Rosary finds true happiness in liberation from the burden of things, the tightness of stuffy rooms, in gaining complete freedom and independence.

Foreword

Sadness is the strongest thing on earth.

A. Akhmatova

The first collection of Anna Akhmatova "Evening" was published at the very beginning of March 1912, in St. Petersburg, in the acmeist publishing house "Poets' Workshop". To publish 300 copies of this thin little book, Anna Akhmatova's husband, who is also the head of the publishing house, poet and critic Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev laid out one hundred rubles from his own pocket. The success of Vecher was preceded by the “triumphs” of young Akhmatova on the tiny stage of the literary cabaret Stray Dog, the opening of which was timed by the founders to coincide with the farewell of 1911. The artist Yuri Annenkov, the author of several portraits of the young Akhmatova, recalling in his declining years the appearance of his model and her performance on the stage of the Intimate Theater (the official name of the Stray Dog: The Art Society of the Intimate Theater), wrote: “Anna Akhmatova, shy and an elegantly careless beauty, with her “uncurled bangs” that covered her forehead, and with a rare grace of half-movements and half-gestures, read, almost singing, her early poems. I do not remember anyone else who would have possessed such a skill and such musical delicacy of reading ... ".
Exactly two years after the publication of the first edition, namely in March 1914, Rosary appeared on the shelves of bookstores in St. Petersburg, Akhmatova no longer had to publish this book at her own expense ... She withstood many reprints, including several pirated." One of these collections is dated 1919. Anna Andreevna valued this edition very much. Hunger, cold, devastation, but people still need poetry. Her poetry! Gumilyov, as it turned out, was right when he said, after reading the proofreading of the Rosary: ​​“Maybe it will have to be sold in every small shop.” Marina Tsvetaeva rather calmly met the first Akhmatova collection, because her own first book was published two years earlier, except that she was surprised at the coincidence of the names: she has “Evening Album”, and Anna has “Evening”, but “Rosary” delighted her. She fell in love! And in poetry, and, in absentia, in Akhmatova, although I felt in her a strong rival:

You make me freeze the sun in the sky,
All the stars are in your hand.

And alone in the emptiness of the prison
We were given a travel guide.

Witnesses of Christ have tasted death,
And old gossips, and soldiers,
And the procurator of Rome - all passed
Where the arch once stood
Where the sea beat, where the cliff blackened, -
They were drunk in wine, inhaled with hot dust
And with the smell of sacred roses.

Gold rusts and steel rots,
Marble crumbles - everything is ready for death.
Sadness is the strongest thing on earth
And more durable is the royal Word.

And a gilded haiduk
Stands motionless behind the sleigh.
And strangely you look around
Empty bright eyes.

Alla Marchenko

Evening

I

Love

That snake, curled up in a ball,
At the very heart conjures
That whole days like a dove
Cooing on the white window,

It will shine in the bright hoarfrost,
Feel like a left-handed man in a slumber ...
But faithfully and secretly leads
From joy and peace.

Can cry so sweetly
In the prayer of a longing violin,
And it's scary to guess
In an unfamiliar smile.

In Tsarskoye Selo

I

Horses are led along the alley,
The waves of combed manes are long.
O captivating city of mysteries,
I'm sad, loving you.

Strange to remember! The soul yearned
Choking in death delirium,
Now I've become a toy
Like my pink cockatoo friend.

The chest is not compressed with a premonition of pain,
If you want, look into my eyes
I do not like only the hour before sunset,
Wind from the sea and the word "go away."

II

... And there is my marble double,
Defeated under the old maple,

He gave his face to the lake waters,
Heeds the rustle of green.

And light rains wash
His clotted wound...
Cold, white, wait
I, too, will become a marble.

III

And the boy...

And the boy who plays the bagpipes
And the girl who weaves her wreath,
And two crossed paths in the forest,
And in the far field a distant light, -

I see everything. I remember everything
Lovingly meekly in the heart of the shore,
Only one I never know
And I can't even remember anymore.

I don't ask for wisdom or strength
Oh, just let me warm myself by the fire!
I'm cold... Winged or wingless,
The merry god will not visit me.

Love conquers...

Love conquers deceitfully
In a simple unskillful chant.
Still so recently-strange
You were not gray and sad.

And when she smiled
In your gardens, in your house, in the field,
Everywhere you seemed
That you are free and at will.

You were bright, taken by her
And drinking her poison.
Because the stars were bigger
After all, the herbs smelled differently,
Autumn herbs.

Shrugged her hands...

She clasped her hands under a dark veil...
"Why are you pale today? .."
- Because I am tart sadness
Got him drunk.

How can I forget? He walked out, staggering
Mouth twisted painfully
I ran away without touching the railing
I followed him to the gate.

Breathless, I shouted: "Joke
All that has gone before. If you leave, I'll die."
Smiled calmly and creepily
And he said to me: "Don't stand in the wind."

Memories of the sun...

yellow grass,
The wind blows with early snowflakes
Barely.

Willow in the empty sky flattened
Fan through.
Maybe it's better that I didn't
Your wife.

The memory of the sun in the heart is weakening,
What is this? - dark?
May be! Will have time to come during the night
Winter.

High in the sky…

High in the sky a cloud was gray,
Like a squirrel's skin, spread out.
He told me: "It's not a pity that your body
It will melt in March, the fragile Snow Maiden!”

In a fluffy muff, the hands grew cold,
I was scared, I was somehow vague,
Oh how to get you back, fast weeks
His love is airy and minute!

I don't want bitterness or revenge
Let me die with the last white blizzard
Oh, I wondered about it on the eve of Epiphany,
I was his girlfriend in January.

The door is half open...

The door is half open
Lindens blow sweetly ...
Forgotten on the table
Whip and glove.

The circle from the lamp is yellow ...
I'm listening to the noise.
What did you leave?
I don't understand…

Happy and clear
Tomorrow will be morning
This life is wonderful
Heart, be wise.

You are quite tired
Beat quieter, deafer,
You know I read
that souls are immortal.

Want to know…

…Do you want to know how it all was? -
Three in the dining room struck,
And, saying goodbye, holding on to the railing,
She seemed to say with difficulty:
"That's it, oh no, I forgot
I love you, I loved you
Already then!"
"Yes?!"

Song of the last meeting

So helplessly my chest went cold,
But my steps were light
I put on my right hand
Left hand glove.

It seemed that many steps
And I knew there were only three!
Autumn whisper between the maples
He asked: “Die with me!

I'm deceived, you hear, sad,
Changeable, evil fate.
I said, "Darling, dear!
And me too. "I'll die with you..."

This is the song of the last meeting
I looked at the dark house
Candles burned in the bedroom
Indifferent yellow fire.

Like a straw...

Like a straw, you drink my soul.
I know its taste is bitter and intoxicating,
But I will not break the torture with a plea,
Oh, my rest is many weeks.

When you finish, say: it's not sad,
That my soul is not in the world,
I'm going down the road
Watch how the children play.

Gooseberries bloom on the bushes,
And they carry bricks behind the fence,
Who is he! - My brother or lover,
I don't remember and I don't need to remember.

How light is here and how homeless,
Resting a tired body...
And passers-by think vaguely:
That's right, just yesterday she was a widow.

I went crazy...

I've lost my mind, oh strange boy
Wednesday at three o'clock!
Pricked ring finger
A ringing wasp for me.

I accidentally pressed her
And she seemed to die
But the end of the poisoned sting
Was sharper than the spindle.

Will I cry about you strange
Will your face smile at me?
Look! On the ring finger
So beautifully smooth ring.

I don't need my legs anymore...

I don't need my legs anymore
Let them turn into a fish tail!
I swim, and the coolness is joyful,
The distant bridge turns white.

I do not need a humble soul,
Let it become smoke, light smoke,
Taking off over the black embankment,
It will be light blue.

Watch how deep I dive
I hold on to the seaweed with my hand,
I do not repeat any words
And I will not be captivated by anyone's longing ...

And you, my distant, really
Has he become pale and mournful?
What do I hear? For three whole weeks
You all whisper: “Poor, why ?!”

II

Deception

I

This morning is drunk with the spring sun
And on the terrace you can hear the smell of roses,
And the sky is brighter than blue faience.
Notebook covered in soft morocco,
I read elegies and stanzas in it,
Written by my grandmother.

I see the road to the gate, and pedestals
They turn white clearly in the emerald turf,
Oh, the heart loves sweetly and blindly!
And exquisite flower beds delight,
And the sharp cry of a crow in the black sky,
And in the depths of the alley is the arch of the crypt.

II

The sultry wind blows hot,
The sun burned my hands
Above me is an air vault,
Like blue glass.

Immortals smell dry
In a scattered braid,
On the trunk of a gnarled spruce
Ant Highway.

The pond is lazy silver,
Life is easy again
Who will dream of me today
In a light hammock net?

III

Blue evening. The winds subsided,
The bright light is calling me home.
I wonder who is there? - Isn't it the groom?
Isn't this my fiancé?

On the terrace the silhouette is familiar,
A quiet conversation can be heard.
Oh, such captivating languor
I didn't know until now.

The poplars rustled anxiously,
Tender dreams visited them,
Blued steel skies
The stars are matte pale.

I carry a bouquet of white lions,
For this, a secret fire is hidden in them,
Who, taking flowers from the hands of the timid,
Touches a warm hand.

IV

I wrote the words
I didn't dare to say for a long time.
A dull headache
The body is strangely numb.

The distant horn is silent,
In the heart all the same riddles
Light autumn snow
Lie down on the croquet ground.

Leaves last to rustle!
Thoughts are the last to languish!
I didn't want to interfere
The one that should have fun.

Forgive red lips
I am their cruel joke...
Oh you will come to us
Tomorrow on the first run.

Candles are lit in the living room
During the day their shimmer is softer,
A whole bouquet will be brought
Roses from the greenhouse.

I'm drunk with you...

I'm having fun drunk with you
There is no sense in your stories;
Autumn early hung
The flags are yellow on the elms.

Both of us are in a deceitful country
Wandered and bitterly repent
But why a strange smile
And frozen smile?

We wanted stinging flour
Instead of serene happiness ...
I won't leave my friend
And careless and tender.

Husband whipped me...

Husband whipped me patterned
Double folded belt.
For you in the casement window
I sit with fire all night.

It's dawning. And above the forge
Smoke rises.
Ah, with me, a sad prisoner,
You couldn't stay again.

For you, I'm gloomy
I took a share of flour,
Or do you love a blonde
Or a redhead?

How can I hide you, sonorous groans!
In the heart of a dark stuffy hops;
And the rays fall thin
On an unrumpled bed.

Heart to heart...

Heart to heart is not riveted
If you want, leave.
Much happiness is in store
For those who are free on the way.

I don't cry, I don't complain
I won't be happy!
Don't kiss me, I'm tired
Death will come to kiss.

The days of sharp yearnings are lived
Together with the white winter ...
Why, why are you
Better than my chosen one.

song

I'm at sunrise
I sing about love
On my knees in the garden
Swan field.

Rip and throw
(Let him forgive me)
I see the girl is barefoot
Weeping at the wattle fence.

I'm at sunrise
I sing about love
On my knees in the garden
Swan field.

I came here...

I came here, loafer
I don't care where I get bored!
On the hillock the mill slumbers,
Years can be silent here.

Over dried dodder
The bee floats softly
I call the mermaid by the pond,
And the mermaid died.

Dragged in rusty mud
The pond is wide and shallow.
Above the trembling aspen
The light moon shone.

I see everything as new
Poplars smell wet.
I am silent. Shut up, ready
Become you again - the earth.

white night

Ah, I didn't lock the door,
Didn't light the candles
You don't know how, tired,
I didn't dare lie down.

Watch the stripes go out
In the sunset darkness needles,
Drunk on the sound of a voice
Similar to yours.

And know that all is lost
That life is a damned hell!
Oh I was sure
What are you coming back.

Under a canopy...

It's hot under the canopy of the dark barn,
I laugh, and in my heart I cry angrily,
An old friend mutters to me: “Don't croak!
We will not meet luck on the way!

But I don't trust my old friend
He is funny, blind and miserable,
He measured his whole life with steps
Long and boring roads.

Bury me wind...

Bury, bury me, wind!
My relatives did not come
I need a wandering evening
And the breath of the quiet earth.

I was free like you
But I wanted to live too much
You see, the wind, my corpse is cold,
And no one to lay down their hands.

Close this black wound
Veil of evening darkness
And led the blue fog
I need to read the psalms.

And so that it's easy for me, lonely,
Go to the last sleep
Proshumi high sedge
About spring, about my spring.

You believe...

Believe me, not a snake's sharp sting,
And my anguish drank my blood.
In a white field, I became a quiet girl,

Sadness is the strongest thing on earth.

A. Akhmatova

The creative fate of Anna Akhmatova developed in such a way that only five of her poetic books - "Evening" (1912), "Rosary" (1914), "White Flock" (1917), "Plantain" (1921) and "Anno Domini" (in two editions of 1921 and 1922-1923) were compiled by herself. Over the next two years, Akhmatov's poems occasionally still appeared in periodicals, but in 1925, after the next Ideological Conference, at which, in the words of Anna Andreevna herself, she was sentenced to "civil death", they stopped publishing her. Only fifteen years later, in 1940, almost miraculously, a volume of selected works broke through to readers, and it was no longer Akhmatova who chose, but the compiler. True, Anna Andreevna still managed to include in this edition, as one of the sections, fragments from the handwritten "Reed", the sixth book of hers, which she compiled with her own hand in the late 30s. And yet, on the whole, the collection of 1940 with the impersonal title "From Six Books", like all the other lifetime favorites, including the famous "Running Time" (1965), did not express the author's will. According to legend, the initiator of this miracle was Stalin himself. Seeing that his daughter Svetlana was copying Akhmatova's poems into a notebook, he allegedly asked one of the people in his retinue why Akhmatova was not being published. Indeed, in the last pre-war year in the creative life of Akhmatova, there was a certain turning point for the better: in addition to the collection "From Six Books", there were also several publications in the Leningrad magazine. Anna Andreevna believed in this legend, she even believed that she also owed Stalin her salvation, the fact that she was taken out of the besieged city in the fall of 1941 on a military plane. In fact, the decision to evacuate Akhmatova and Zoshchenko was signed by Alexander Fadeev and, apparently, at the insistent request of Alexei Tolstoy: the red count was a burned-out cynic, but he knew and loved Anna Andreevna and Nikolai Gumilyov from his youth and never forgot about it ... Tolstoy, it seems , contributed to the release of the Tashkent collection of Akhmatova in 1943, which, however, was not at all difficult for him, since this happened after the publication of her poem “Courage” in Pravda ... The fact that it was the author of “Peter the Great”, albeit not too much, but slightly defended Akhmatova, and this fact confirms: after his death in 1944, no one could help her, neither Nikolai Tikhonov, nor Konstantin Fedin, nor Alexei Surkov, despite all his considerable literary ranks ...

This edition includes the texts of the first five books of Anna Akhmatova, in the edition and in the order in which they first saw the light.

The first four collections - "Evening", "Rosary", "White Flock" and "Plantain" are published according to the first edition, "Anno Domini" - according to the second, more complete, Berlin one, printed in October 1922, but published with the note: 1923. All other texts follow in chronological order, without taking into account those subtle connections and links in which they exist in the author's "samizdat" plans: until her death, Anna Akhmatova continued to write poetry and put them into cycles and books, still hoping that will be able to reach its reader not only with the main poems, which invariably got stuck in the viscous mud of Soviet censorship, but also with books of poetry. Like many poets of the Silver Age, she was convinced that between lyrical plays, united only by the time of their writing, and the author's book of poems, there was a "devilish difference."

The first collection of Anna Akhmatova "Evening" was published at the very beginning of March 1912, in St. Petersburg, in the acmeist publishing house "Poets' Workshop". To publish 300 copies of this thin little book, Anna Akhmatova's husband, who is also the head of the publishing house, poet and critic Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev laid out one hundred rubles from his own pocket. The success of Vecher was preceded by the “triumphs” of young Akhmatova on the tiny stage of the literary cabaret Stray Dog, the opening of which was timed by the founders to coincide with the farewell of 1911. The artist Yuri Annenkov, the author of several portraits of the young Akhmatova, recalling in his declining years the appearance of his model and her performance on the stage of the Intimate Theater (the official name of the Stray Dog: The Art Society of the Intimate Theater), wrote: “Anna Akhmatova, shy and an elegantly careless beauty, with her “uncurled bangs” that covered her forehead, and with a rare grace of half-movements and half-gestures, read, almost singing, her early poems. I do not remember anyone else who would have possessed such a skill and such musical delicacy of reading ... ".

Exactly two years after the publication of the first edition, namely in March 1914, Rosary appeared on the shelves of bookstores in St. Petersburg, Akhmatova no longer had to publish this book at her own expense ... She withstood many reprints, including several pirated." One of these collections is dated 1919. Anna Andreevna valued this edition very much. Hunger, cold, devastation, but people still need poetry. Her poetry! Gumilyov, as it turned out, was right when he said, after reading the proofreading of the Rosary: ​​“Maybe it will have to be sold in every small shop.” Marina Tsvetaeva rather calmly met the first Akhmatova collection, because her own first book was published two years earlier, except that she was surprised at the coincidence of the names: she has “Evening Album”, and Anna has “Evening”, but “Rosary” delighted her. She fell in love! And in poetry, and, in absentia, in Akhmatova, although I felt in her a strong rival:

You make me freeze the sun in the sky,

All the stars are in your hand.

Then, after the "Rosary", Tsvetaeva called Akhmatova "Anna of All Rus'", she also owns two more poetic characteristics: "Muse of Lamentation", "Tsarskoye Selo Muse". And what is most surprising, Marina Ivanovna guessed that fate had written out for them, so different, one road trip:

And alone in the emptiness of the prison

We were given a travel guide.

"The Rosary" is the most famous book of Anna Akhmatova, it was she who brought her fame, not just fame in a narrow circle of lovers of fine literature, but real fame. Meanwhile, Akhmatova herself, from her early books, loved The White Flock and Plantain much more than The Rosary ... And let the person to whom The White Flock and Plantain are dedicated - Boris Vasilyevich Anrep, as it turned out many, many years later, turned out to be unworthy of this great earthly love and the poem of the fate of Anna of All Russia was left without the main Hero, so what? Wars and tsars have passed, but the poems about the hopeless love of the most charming woman of "silver Petersburg" for the "dashing Yaroslavl", who exchanged his native copses for the velvet greens of English lawns, did not pass, did not lose their original freshness ... In 1945, on the eve of another catastrophe, when in August of the following 1946, Anna Akhmatova was once again sentenced to “civil death” by the well-known decision of the Central Committee on the magazines “Zvezda” and “Leningrad”, after reading Mikhail Bulgakov’s novel “The Master and Margarita” in the manuscript, she wrote such visionary verses.

With the outbreak of World War I, Akhmatova severely limited her public life. At this time, she suffers from tuberculosis, a disease that did not let her go for a long time. An in-depth reading of the classics (A. S. Pushkin, E. A. Baratynsky, Rasin, etc.) affects her poetic manner, the sharply paradoxical style of cursory psychological sketches gives way to neoclassical solemn intonations. Insightful criticism guesses in her collection The White Flock (1917) the growing "sense of personal life as a national, historical life." Inspiring in her early poems the atmosphere of "mystery", the aura of autobiographical context, Akhmatova introduces free "self-expression" as a stylistic principle into high poetry. The seeming fragmentation, dissonance, spontaneity of lyrical experience is more and more clearly subject to a strong integrating principle, which gave V.V.

The third book of poems by Akhmatova was published by the Hyperborey publishing house in September 1917 with a circulation of 2000 copies. Its volume is much larger than previous books - there were 83 poems in four sections of the collection; the fifth section was the poem "By the Sea". 65 poems of the book have been printed previously. Many critics noted the new features of Akhmatova's poetry, the strengthening of the Pushkin principle in it. O. Mandelstam wrote in an article in 1916: “The voice of renunciation is growing stronger and stronger in Akhmatova’s poems, and at present her poetry is approaching becoming one of the symbols of the greatness of Russia.” The turning point in Akhmatov's work is connected with attention to reality, to the fate of Russia. Despite the revolutionary times, the first edition of the book "White Pack" sold out quickly. The second was published in 1918 by the Prometheus publishing house. Before 1923, two more editions of the book were published with minor changes and additions.

The epigraph is from I. Annensky's poem "Sweetheart".

Turning to the symbolism of the title, one can see that the words “white” and “flock” will be its fundamental components. Let's consider them in turn.

Everyone knows that colors affect our thinking and feelings. They become symbols, serve as warning signals, make us happy, sad, shape our mentality and influence our speech.

White is the color of innocence and purity. White color symbolizes purity of thoughts, sincerity, youth, innocence, inexperience. A white vest gives the look sophistication, a white dress of the bride means innocence.

A person who is attracted to the white color strives for perfection, he is constantly in search of himself. White color is a symbol of creative, life-loving nature.

In Rus', white is a favorite color, it is the color of the "Holy Spirit". (He descends to earth in the form of a white dove). White color is ubiquitous in national clothes and ornaments. It is also marginal, (that is, it symbolizes the transition from one state to another: death and birth again, for a new life). The symbol of this is the white dress of the bride, and the white shroud of the deceased, and white snow.

But the white color has, in addition to the joyful, its sad side of meanings. White is also the color of death. No wonder such a season as winter is associated with death in nature. The ground is covered with white snow, like a shroud. Whereas spring is the birth of a new life.

The symbol "white" finds its direct reflection in the verses of the book. Firstly, white is the color of love for Akhmatova, the personification of a quiet family life in the "white house". When love becomes obsolete, the heroine leaves "the white house and the quiet garden."

"White", as the personification of inspiration, creativity, is reflected in the following lines:

I wanted to give her a dove

The one that is whiter than everyone in the dovecote,

But the bird itself flew

For my slender guest.

(“Muse left on the way”, 1915, p. 77).

The white dove - a symbol of inspiration - flies after the Muse, devoting herself to creativity.

"White" is also the color of memories, memories:

Like a white stone in the depths of a well,

There is one memory in me.

(“Like a white stone in the depths of a well”, 1916, p. 116).

Salvation Day, paradise is also indicated in white by Akhmatova:

The gate dissolved into a white paradise,

Magdalena took her son.

(“Where, high, is your gypsy child”, 1914, p. 100).

The image of a bird (for example, a dove, a swallow, a cuckoo, a swan, a raven) is deeply symbolic. And this symbolism is used by Akhmatova. In her work, "bird" means a lot: poetry, state of mind, God's messenger. A bird is always the personification of a free life, in cages we see a miserable likeness of birds, without seeing them soaring in the sky. It is the same in the fate of the poet: the true inner world is reflected in the poems created by a free creator. But it is precisely this, freedom, that is always lacking in life.

Birds rarely live alone, mostly in flocks, and a flock is something united, united, many-sided and many-voiced.

Looking at the symbolism of the title of the third book of poetry by Akhmatova, we will see that here the temporal and spatial layers are not limited by anything. There is an exit from the circle, separation from the starting point and the intended line.

Thus, the “white flock” is an image that testifies to a change in spatial time, assessments, and views. He (the image) declares a position "above" everything and everyone, from a bird's eye view.

During the writing of the first two books, the author was included in the events of the surrounding reality, being with them in the same spatial dimension. In The White Flock, Akhmatova rises above reality and, like a bird, tries to cover with her eyes a vast space and most of the history of her country, she breaks out from the powerful shackles of earthly experiences.

"The White Flock" is a collection of poems of various orientations: these are both civil lyrics and poems of love content; it also contains the theme of the poet and poetry.

The book opens with a poem on a civil theme, in which tragic notes are felt (an echo of the epigraph, but on a larger scale). (“Thought: we are poor, we have nothing”, 1915)

In The White Flock, it is polyphony, polyphony that becomes a characteristic feature of the poet's lyrical consciousness. The search for Akhmatova was of a religious nature. Save the soul, as it then seemed to her, is possible only by sharing the fate of many "beggars".

So, in the third book "The White Flock" Akhmatova uses the meanings of the words "white", "flock", "bird" both in the traditional sense, and adds meanings that are unique to her.

"The White Flock" is her poetry, her poems, feelings, moods, poured onto paper.

The white bird is a symbol of God, his messengers.

A bird is an indicator of the normal course of life on earth.

"White flock" is a sign of commonwealth, connection with others.

The “White Flock” is a height, a flight above the mortal earth, it is a craving for the Divine.

Poetic originality

A.A. Akhmatova (on the example of two collections "Rosary" and "White flock

Introduction. 3

1. Features of the style and composition of Akhmatova's early collections. 5

2. Folklore traditions in the early collections of Anna Akhmatova. 12

Conclusion. 21

List of used literature.. 23

Introduction

"The poetry of Anna Akhmatova gives the impression of sharp and fragile because her perceptions are such<... >". With these words of M. Kuzmin from the preface to the book of poems "Evening", literary attempts to comprehend the "secrets of the craft" of Anna Akhmatova began. Two books of her poems "Evening" (1912) and "Rosary" were published one after another (1914), and a little later the third - The White Flock (1917) not only made people talk about the appearance of special, "female" poetry at the beginning of the century, but also made the decade itself Akhmatova's time. Rich multicolored newspaper and magazine reviews and several serious research works of the next decade: this is a sign of keen interest in the work of Anna Akhmatova, which preceded the period of official denigration or suppression of her writings.

With the beginning of the "thaw" of the late 50s - early 60s, after the "second birth" of the poet Anna Akhmatova, her early lyrics quietly faded into the background, being in the shadow of later masterpieces, primarily "Poems without a Hero". Perhaps Akhmatova's own early lyrics, voiced during these years, played a certain role in this turn: "These poor verses of the most empty girl ...". However, these words of Anna Andreevna should not be considered as determining the attitude towards her first books. In this way, she wanted to prevent the critics' "desire to permanently wall up<ее>in the 10s". Being an extremely strict and exacting judge towards herself, Akhmatova sought to emphasize the profound changes in her attitude and poetic manner that occurred in the subsequent "terrible years" - "The harsh era turned me like a river" .

Meanwhile, it is impossible not to notice that many of the artistic achievements of Anna Akhmatova in the 30s and early 60s became a natural development of her creative searches of the early period, so the study of Akhmatova’s early lyrics is very important for a deeper understanding of her later works. Only by realizing the unique originality of everything created in the 1910s, one can correctly interpret the amazing integrity and depth of the artist's heritage, and in the first steps to see the origins of a mature master.

The purpose of this work is to consider two of the early collections ("Rosary" and "White Flock"), to explore their poetic originality.

In connection with this goal, the following tasks can be formulated:

to consider the features of the style of Akhmatova's early lyrics;

to study the originality of the composition of the poem, to trace the change in the nature of the lyrical heroine, the expansion of the subject matter;

highlight folklore motifs in the early lyrical works of Akhmatova.

The beginning of the twentieth century was marked by the appearance in Russian literature of two female names, next to which the word "poetess" seems inappropriate, for Anna Akhmatova and Marina Tsvetaeva are poets in the highest sense of the word. It was they who proved that "women's poetry" is not only "poems in an album", but also a prophetic, great word that can contain the whole world. It was in Akhmatova's poetry that a woman became taller, purer, wiser. Her poems taught women to be worthy of love, equal in love, to be generous and sacrificial. They teach men to listen not to "baby in love", but to words as hot as they are proud.

Akhmatova's poetry attracts me with the depth of feelings and at the same time with content. Such a phenomenon in Russian poetry requires special, close attention. The study of the early poetic works of Akhmatova is relevant, since it was during this period that her unique poetic style was formed. In addition, since these poems were written by a young girl (Akhmatova was 22-25 at the time of writing these collections), I am interested in understanding the way of thinking and the peculiarities of the feelings of a woman of another century.

1. Features of the style and composition of Akhmatova's early collections

The main feature of Akhmatova's early collections is their lyrical orientation. Their main theme is love, their heroine is a lyrical heroine whose life is focused on her feelings. This distinguishes Akhmatov's early collections from her later lyrics, and this allows them to be somewhat "overshadowed" in comparison with poems. Nevertheless, Akhmatova's early collections are filled with the charm and strength of the first feeling, and the pain of disappointment, and the agony of reflection on the duality of human nature.

In the collection "Rosary" (1914), the lyrical heroine is a restrained, tender, proud woman - this is the difference from the heroine of the collection "Evening", impulsive, passionate, especially striking. Love for a grown-up girl is a dense network that haunts. The state of mind of the heroine is conveyed through expressively painted artistic details: "golden dust", "colorless ice".

In the verses of this period, the heroine protests ("Ah! It's you again"):

You ask what I did to you

Given to me forever by love and fate.

I betrayed you!

Majesty and dominance are manifested in her character. The lyrical heroine declares her chosenness. In Akhmatova's poems, new motives appear for her - authoritativeness, and even worldly wisdom, which makes it possible to convict a hypocrite:

... And in vain the words are submissive

You talk about first love.

How do I know these stubborn

Your unsatisfied glances!

However, Lermontov's "insult" sounds in this collection: "I do not ask for your love ..." - "I will not humiliate myself before you ..." (Lermontov). The lyrical heroine of Akhmatova is growing up - now she blames herself for the tragedy of love, looking for the reason for the break in herself. Now Akhmatova thinks that "hearts are hopelessly decrepit from happiness and glory." There is no complaint in the verses, but there is amazement: how can this happen to me? Love, according to Akhmatova, is purgatory, because it shows the subtlest shades of feelings.

The poems of this period are close to folk songwriting, aphoristic: "How many requests a loved one always has, / A lovesick does not have requests ..."; "And the one that is dancing now // Will certainly be in hell"; "Abandoned! Made up word // Am I a flower or a letter?".

The collection "The White Flock" (1917) was created in a difficult time - both for the poetess and for Russia. Akhmatova herself says about him: "Readers and criticism are unfair to this book." The heroine of Akhmatova grows up, becomes mature, acquires new values ​​in life: "Let me give the world // That which is imperishable to love." She is already wiser, appreciates the newfound freedom of feeling and creativity. Now the lyrical heroine breaks out of the world of chamber, closed love to true, great love. The inner world of a loving woman expands to a global, universal scale, and therefore love for people, for her native land, for the Motherland enters the world of Akhmatova's poems. Patriotic motives sound more and more clearly:

Victory over silence.

In me still, like a song or grief,

The last winter before the war.

Whiter than the arches of the Smolny Cathedral,

More mysterious than the lush Summer Garden,

She was. We didn't know that soon

Let's look back in sadness.

Akhmatova's visual skill in these poems is emphasized by the dramatic juxtaposition of disparate concepts (like a song or grief), a comparison of the season with infinitely beloved Petersburg, as a leitmotif there is the idea of ​​the irreversibility of the past, longing for the past. The poems of this period are characterized by psychologism. The poetess conveys her feelings through a specific psychological detail: “The silence of love is unbearably painful for the soul…” The pain of loss has not subsided, but now it is like a song. For Akhmatova, love is "the fifth season of the year."

And in the poem "Muse left on the road ..." the motive of death is clearly heard:

I asked her for a long time

Wait for winter with me

But she said: "After all, here is the grave,

How can you still breathe? "

The lyrical works of Anna Akhmatova, with apparent clarity and simplicity, are often distinguished by the complexity and uncertainty of the composition. There are several communicative plans in Akhmatov's texts - this is an unaddressed lyrical description, and a dialogue, and an appeal to an absent, unnamed character in the work, and an appeal of the lyrical heroine to her own "I". V. Vinogradov found that A. Akhmatova more often uses two plans: one is "an emotional background, or a sequence of external sensually perceived phenomena", the other is "expression of emotions in the form of direct appeals to the interlocutor" . This is noticeable, for example, in a poem dedicated to N. Gumilyov:

I was returning home from school.

These lindens, it is true, have not forgotten

Our meeting, my merry boy.

Only, having become an arrogant swan,

The gray swan has changed.

And on my life with an imperishable ray

In these verses, there is also a quiet sadness about the past, the departure of which is here marked by the sudden transformation of a loved one (a swan - a swan), with a sad allusion to a well-known fairy tale, only with a different ending.