The theme of mother in Russian poetry. Recommended list of literature on the topic "The image of the mother in fiction

Praise the woman - Mother, whose love knows no barriers, Whose breast fed the whole world!
Everything beautiful in man - from the rays of the sun and from the milk of the Mother. This is what saturates us with love for life!
M. Gorky

The image of the mother has long been inherent in Russian poetry and Russian literature in general. This topic takes important place both classical and contemporary literature. Moreover, the Russian image of the mother is a national cultural symbol that has not lost its high value from ancient times to the present day. It is characteristic that the image of the mother, growing out of the image specific person, the mother of the poet, becomes a symbol of the motherland. In my blog, I want to focus only on some literary facts.

The image of a mother, her love for children appeared in Russian folklore. We all know the proverb: “When the sun is warm, when the mother is good.” And then the image of the mother somehow faded. Even Pushkin - the poet of the "golden age" - did not write about his mother. But here in literature there is a poet " anger and sadness" ON THE. Nekrasov, and we read the lines of his poems dedicated to mothers

Listening to the horrors of war
With each new victim of the battle
I feel sorry for not a friend, not a wife,
I feel sorry for the hero himself...
Alas! wife will be comforted
And a friend best friend forget;
But somewhere there is one soul -
She will remember to the grave!
Among our hypocritical deeds
And all the vulgarity and prose
Alone I spied in the world
Holy, sincere tears -
Those are the tears of poor mothers!
They can't forget their children
Those who died in the bloody field,
How not to raise a weeping willow
Of their drooping branches...

Elena Andreevna Nekrasova

The poem “Listening to the horrors of war ...”, is dedicated to Crimean War 1853-1856, but it sounds amazingly modern .. It reminds the living of the enduring value of life, it seems that only mothers who give life understand its sacred purpose. And the madmen who draw new generations into wars do not want to understand anything. They don't hear the voice of reason. How many Russian mothers are close and understand this poem:

« Sweet, kind, old, tender" mother is seen by the poet S. Yesenin " at parent's dinner ". The mother is worried - her son has not been at home for a long time. How is he in the distance? The son tries to reassure her in letters: “ There will be time, dear, dear! In the meantime, over the mother's hut flows "evening unspeakable light" . Son, “still just as tender”, “only dreams of returning to our low house out of rebellious longing.” In the "Letter to the Mother" filial feelings are expressed with piercing artistic power: “You are my only help and joy, you are my only inexpressible light”

TatyanaFedorovna Yesenina

Lines full of sorrows from the distant 19th century remind tell us about the bitter cry of the mother, which we hear in the poem of Anna Andreevna Akhmatova "Requiem". Here it is, the immortality of true poetry, here it is, the enviable length of its existence in time!
The poem has real basis: 17 months (1938 - 1939) Akhmatova spent in prison queues in connection with the arrest of her son, Lev Gumilyov: he was arrested three times: in 1935, 1938 and 1949.
. Poem "Requiem ” is a tribute to those terrible years and to all those who have walked this difficult path with her, to all those who have been noticed, to all the relatives of the condemned. The poem reflects not only the personal tragic circumstances of the author's life, but also the grief of all Russian women, those wives, mothers, sisters who stood with her for 17 terrible months in prison lines in Leningrad.

I learned how faces fall,
How fear peeks out from under the eyelids,
Like cuneiform hard pages
Suffering brings out on the cheeks,
Like curls of ashen and black
Suddenly become silver
The smile withers on the lips of the submissive,
And fear trembles in a dry laugh.
And I'm not praying for myself alone
And about everyone who stood there with me,
And in bitter cold, and in the July heat
Under the blinding red wall.

Anna Andreevna Akhmatova with her son. Crosses.

Novel "Young guard" - another milestone in the history of our country. .The hero of the novel by A. Fadeev, Oleg Koshevoy, addresses not only the mother, but also all the children, from the grief of which “our mothers turn gray.”:
"Mother Mother! I remember hands from the moment I became aware of myself in the world. And from that very moment I always remember your hands at work.
I remember them scurrying around in the soapy suds washing my sheets when those sheets were so small they looked like diapers.
I see your fingers on the primer, and I repeat after you: "be-a-ba, ba-ba."
I remember your hands, unbending, red from icy water - and I remember how imperceptibly your hands could take a splinter out of your son’s finger, and how they instantly threaded a needle when you sewed and sang.
There is nothing in the world that your hands could do, what they would abhor!
But most of all, for all eternity, I remember how gently they stroked, your hands, slightly rough and so warm and cool, how they stroked my hair, and neck, and chest, when I lay half-conscious in bed. And whenever I opened my eyes, you were always near me, and the nightlight burned in the room, and you looked at me from the darkness, yourself quiet and bright, as if in robes. I kiss your clean, holy hands!
You led your sons to war - if not you, then another, the same as you - you will never wait for others ...
Look around you too, young man, my friend, look back like me, and tell me whom you offended in life more than your mother - is it not from me, is it not from you, is it not from him, is it not from our failures, mistakes and whether our mothers turn gray from our grief? But the hour will come when all this at the mother's grave will return with a painful reproach to the heart.
Mother Mother! Forgive me, because you are alone, only you in the world can forgive, put your hands on your head, as in childhood, and forgive ... "

Elena Nikolaevna, mother of Oleg Koshevoy

The image of the mother has always carried the features of drama. And he began to look even more tragic against the backdrop of the great and terrible in its bitterness of the past war. Who more than a mother endured suffering at this time?

Can you tell me about it -
What years did you live in!
What an immeasurable heaviness
On women's shoulders lay down!

- so writes M, Isakovsky in his poem ..

And you are in front of the whole country,
And you before the whole war
Said what you are

She gave us a unique example of mercy who raised 48 children of different nationalities. Sister of Mercy Sashenka Derevskaya took in her first child when she was barely eighteen. civil war. During these years, thousands of orphans roamed the roads. The Great Patriotic War broke out. And Alexandra Abramovna again did as her mother's heart told her: she went out to the trains in which the evacuated children were brought, and brought the weakest home. Hurry to do good! Are you able to build a building in your soul. Mercy and Kindness? For without it there is no man. Without it, there is no woman.

Alexandra Abramovna Derevskaya

The sage of our century Rasul Gamzatov said: “We should not only love, but also pray for mothers, and not because they pray for us, but out of inner need ". Mother is the beginning of all beginnings, an inexhaustible source of goodness, understanding and forgiveness. Mother is the support of the earth. The mother's love of life, her mercy and selflessness strengthen and multiply the family. The people say: unhappy is the family where the woman is sad. A country cannot be happy either, where families are not arranged, where family harmony, family comfort is broken or not created. The well-being of the family depends on the mother, on her internal state smiles, warm eyes. In relation to a woman, the maturity of society is determined, and our concern for mothers determines its moral height or, conversely, depravity and spiritual poverty. Here is how M. Tsvetaeva said about it:

low-flowering branches bend,
Fountains in the pool babble jets,
In the shady alleys, all the children, all the children,
Oh, kids in the grass, why not mine?
As if there is a crown on each head,
From the views, guarding children loving.
And every woman who strokes a child,
I want to shout: "You have the whole world."
Like butterflies, the girls' dresses are colorful:
There is a quarrel, there are tears, there are preparations for going home.
And mothers whisper like gentle sisters:
"Think, my son!" - "Yes you! And mine…"
I love women that they were not shy in battle,
They knew how to hold a sword and a spear,
But I know that only in the captivity of the cradle
Normal , feminine happiness my .

And I would like to finish the theme of the mother, her love for children with the parable "Mother's love":
Once her children came to their mother, arguing among themselves and proving their case to each other, with the question: whom does she love more than anything in the world?
Mother silently took the candle, lit it and began to speak.
"Here is a candle - it's me! Its fire is my love!"
Then she took another candle and lit it from hers.
"This is my firstborn, I gave him my fire, my love! Is it because of what I gave that the fire of my candle became smaller? The fire of my candle remained the same ..."
And so she lit as many candles as she had children, and the fire of her candle remained as big and warm ...

People, while your hearts are beating, remember the one that gave you life, did not sleep when you were sick, kissed your tiny hands and sang lullabies to you. Bow low to your mother for her kind, all-forgiving heart. Until it's not too late.
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Literary Lounge

The image of the mother in Russian culture: music, painting, literature.

Presenter 1. (Churkina V.) Sirs and ladies! Ladies and Gentlemen! We welcome you to the opening of the literary drawing room of school No. 73.

Beginning in the 1920s, Russian culture experienced an extraordinary upsurge. Salon culture has acquired a special flourishing. Among the nobles were the most educated people, owners of extensive libraries, subtle connoisseurs of world philosophical thought, literary and musical creativity. Aristocrats gathered their own kind around them.

Moscow Governor-General, Prince Dmitry Vladimirovich Golitsyn organized a cultural salon, which had big success. One of the poets of the Pushkin circle even lamented:“Well, why is it so boring at our gatherings, but at Golitsyn’s it’s so much fun? ..”

P. A. Vyazemsky calls the ability to keep a salon “art”. This elegant and delicate form public life teetered on the edge of seriousness and entertainment, private and public. Here everyone was supposed to feel at ease, but not go beyond the limits of secular decency. The hostesses of the salons were usually women, since it was women who could create a cozy, relaxed atmosphere of the salon.

Lead 2. (Kolesnichenko A.) Today our literary drawing room is devoted to the theme "The image of the mother in Russian culture."We invite you to participate in a creative laboratory to create the image of a modern mother. Before you is an easel with whatman paper, pencils, paints, felt-tip pens, markers and your imagination. In the course of the action, you can approach the easel and make your own sketches.

Lead 1. With respect and gratitude, we look at a person who reverently pronounces the name of his mother to gray hair and respectfully protects her old age; and with contempt we will execute the one who, in her bitter senile time, turned away from her, refused a good memory, a piece or shelter.

Lead 2. Born late or early
At least for this world,
To say for the first time the word "MAMA",

Which is not sacred in the world.

We decided to take these words as an epigraph to our evening dedicated to the dearest person on Earth - MOTHER!

The song “Mom is the first word” sounds (from the movie “Mom”)

Lead 1. In the languages ​​of the world, the sequences of sounds ma, mama and the like in many, often completely do not match each other. related languages correspond to the word "mother".

Rasul Gamzatov (Kirichenko V.)

And in Avar - affectionately "woman".
From a thousand words of earth and ocean
This one has a special destiny.

Becoming the first word of the year, our lullaby,
It sometimes entered the smoky circle
And on the lips of a soldier at the hour of death
The last call was suddenly.

Shadows do not fall on this word,
And in silence, probably because
Words are different, kneeling
They want to confess to him.

A spring, having rendered a service to a jug,
This word babbles because
What remembers the mountain peak -
She passed for his mother.

And the lightning will cut through the cloud again
And I will hear, following the rain,
Like, soaking into the ground, this word
Calling raindrops.

I will secretly sigh, grieving about something,
And, hiding a tear in the clear light of day:
"Don't worry," I tell my mother,
Everything is fine, my dear, with me."

Worries about her son all the time
Holy love great slave.
In Russian "mama", in Georgian "nana",
And in Avar - affectionately "woman".

Lead 2. Mother in many world cultures is a symbol of life, holiness, eternity, warmth and love.At all times it was glorified and sung by artists, poets, musicians. She was a dream, a smile, a joy...

Lead 1.

There is a holy and prophetic sign in nature,

Brightly marked for centuries!

The most beautiful of women

A woman with a child in her arms.

(Sokolov Maxim.) The famous philosopher and theologian Sergius Bulgakov said the following about the famous painting by Raphael "The Sistine Madonna": "... here the beauty is wondrous, but human beauty, a beautiful young woman, full of charm, beauty and wisdom, is coming with a firm step with a baby in her arms ... Femininity, motherhood are beautiful. About this beauty of the Renaissance (the Renaissance) it cannot be said that she could “save the world”, because she herself needs to be saved ... "

(Nechaeva Daria) What a blessing it is to have your mom by your side. How nice it is when you can turn to her for advice, with any joy or misfortune. It is not for nothing that many good people live among the people, kind words about mother. They are passed down from generation to generation. Let's, guys, remember the proverbs about the mother.

1. The bird is happy for spring, and the baby is happy for its mother.

2. There is no sweeter friend than your own mother.

3. When the sun is warm, when the mother is good.

4. In the mother's heart, there is enough affection for all children.

(Filonov Alexander) The reverent veneration of the Most Holy Theotokos originates from the very first Christians, who also learned to love and honor the Most Pure Mother of Christ, Whom He Himself indicated as their Intercessor and Patron, when from the Cross He adopted all Christians to Her in the person of the holy Apostle John the Theologian.

(Silko Dmitry) The recognition and veneration of the Mother of God in Russia is a special phenomenon, it is an image incredibly dear to every Orthodox. “Mother Protector!” - we say, calling to Her. We call her Gracious, Gracious, Joy of All Who Sorrow, Quick to Hearing, Joy and Consolation. We turn to Her the most, probably, sincere and touching prayer:Mother of God, Virgin, rejoice, Blessed Mary, the Lord is with you ... "

(Ilyicheva Ekaterina) And this is not surprising, because there was not and is not in Russia a name more reverently pronounced, loved and glorified after the Lord, than the Blessed Virgin.Therefore, Russian poets and writers could not help but turn in their work to the image of the Mother of God, not sing the One Who is “the most honest Cherubim and the most glorious Seraphim without comparison.”

(Ermashova Liana ) In addition, there is a great relationship between true poetry and prayer. Maybe poetry in general was once born a very long time ago from the words of a prayer, because rhymed lines, clothed in images and honed in beautiful forms, just soar and ascend to the beyond, as well as simple unsophisticated words of prayer, with which a loving soul appeals to God and the Most Pure Virgo.

(Borodkin Valery) Poetry is a quiet miracle arising in the depths true poet and true reader. What do we read and hear, understand and accept from Afanasy Fet?

A. Fet

Ave, Maria - the lamp is quiet,

Four verses are ready in the heart:

Pure maiden, grieving mother,

Your grace has penetrated my soul.

Queen of the sky, not in the brilliance of rays

In a quiet dream come to her!

Ave, Maria - the lamp is quiet,

I whispered all four verses.

Presentation Ave Maria! (to the music of Schubert Ave, Maria!)

Lead 2. The talents of several generations of Russian poets, writers, writers, composers, historians, artists were forged in aristocratic salons: Batyushkov, Gnedich, Krylov, Gogol, Zhukovsky, Karamzin, Lermontov, Turgenev, Nekrasov, Belinsky, Tolstoy, Tyutchev, Glinka, Bryullov, Kiprensky.

Lead 1. The image of a mother in Russian poetry acquired the captivating features of a hearth keeper, a hard-working and faithful wife, a protector of her own children and an unfailing guardian for all the destitute, offended and offended. These qualities maternal soul displayed and sung in Russian folk tales and folk songs. This was not ignored by Russian poets as the successors of the traditions of Russian culture.

Lead 2 .A bright image of the poet's mother passes through Yesenin's work, growing into a fabulous image of a Russian woman who gave the poet the whole world.

Sergey Yesenin

MOTHER'S LETTER

Are you still alive, my old lady?
I'm alive too. Hello you, hello!
Let it flow over your hut
That evening unspeakable light.

They write to me that you, melting anxiety,
She was very sad about me,
What do you often go to the road
In an old-fashioned ramshackle.

And you in the evening blue darkness
We often see the same thing:
Like someone is in a tavern fight for me
He put a Finnish knife under the heart.

Nothing, dear! Take it easy.
It's just painful bullshit.
I'm not such a bitter drunkard,
To die without seeing you.

I'm still just as gentle
And I only dream about
So that rather from rebellious longing
Return to our low house.

I'll be back when the branches spread
In spring, our white garden.
Only you me already at dawn
Don't wake up like eight years ago.

Don't wake up what you dreamed
Don't worry about what didn't come true -
Too early loss and fatigue
I have experienced in my life.

And don't teach me to pray. No need!
There is no return to the old.
You are my only help and joy,
You are my only inexpressible light.

So forget your worries
Don't be so sad about me.
Don't go to the road so often
In an old-fashioned ramshackle.

The song "Mom is an expensive word" sounds.

Lead 1. Mother ... The dearest and closest person. She gave us life happy childhood. A mother's heart, eyes, a smile like the sun, shines always and everywhere, warming us with its warmth. She is our best friend, a wise adviser. Mother is our guardian angel. From infancy, we remember the most gentle, kindest hands of mother.

A.A. Fadeev An excerpt from the novel "The Young Guard" (Matrosov E.)

Mother Mother! I remember your hands from the moment I became aware of myself in the world. During the summer, they were always covered with a tan, he no longer departed in the winter, he was so gentle, even, only a little bit darker on the veins. Or maybe they were even rougher, your hands, because they had so much work in life, but they always seemed so tender to me, and I loved kissing them right on the dark veins.

From the very moment when I became aware of myself, and until the last minute, when you quietly laid your head on my chest for the last time, seeing me off on the difficult path of life, I always remember your hands at work. I remember how they scurried about in soapy suds, washing my sheets, I remember how you, in a sheepskin coat, in winter, carried buckets, putting a small mittened hand on the yoke in front, yourself as small and fluffy as a mitten. I see your fingers with slightly thickened joints on the primer, and I repeat after you: "Be-a-ba, ba-ba."

I remember your hands, red from the cold water in the hole where you rinsed your clothes, I remember how your hands could imperceptibly take a splinter out of your finger and how they instantly threaded a needle when you sewed and sang. Because there is nothing in the world that your hands cannot do, that they cannot do!

But most of all, for all eternity, I remember how gently they stroked, your hands, slightly rough and so warm and cool, how they stroked my hair, and neck, and chest, when I lay half-conscious in bed. And, whenever I opened my eyes, you were always near me, and the night-light burned in the room, and you looked at me with your sunken eyes, as if from darkness, you yourself were all quiet and bright, as if in robes. I kiss your clean, holy hands!

Look back, my friend, and tell me, whom did you offend in life more than your mother, is it not from me, not from you, not from him, is it not from our failures, mistakes and is it not from our grief that our mothers turn gray? But the hour will come when all this at the mother's grave will turn into a painful reproach to the heart.

Mom, mom! .. Forgive me, because you are the only one, only you in the world can forgive, put your hands on your head, as in childhood, and forgive ...

Lead 2. Maternal love warms us to old age, it inspires us, gives strength, how to thank our mothersfor their sleepless nights, unshed tears, sorrows and pain, which we voluntarily or involuntarily caused them. Nothing can measure a mother's love. Low bow to you, our dear mothers! In honor of you, 10th grade students will perform the dance "Waltz of the Flowers".

Dance. The music of P.I. Tchaikovsky "Waltz of the Flowers" ("The Nutcracker")

Lead 1. How often do mothers hear from us words of gratitude, declarations of love? Unfortunately no. Although, that we should approach our mother, hug and kiss her, ask her how the day went, find out about her well-being, just snuggle up to her.

"Honor your father and your mother, may it be good for you, may you live long on earth" - so says God's commandment. This commandment calls us to take care of our mothers.

Rasul Gamzatov PROTECT YOUR MOTHER! (Shmul O.)
I sing of what is eternally new.
And although I don’t sing a hymn at all,
But in the soul the word born
Gets his own music.

And, not obeying my will,
Rushing to the stars, expanding around ...
Music of joy and pain
It thunders - the orchestra of my soul.

But when I say, as for the first time,
This is the Word-Wonder, the Word-Light, -
Get up people!
Fallen, alive!
Arise, children of our stormy years!

Arise, pines of the age-old forest!
Arise, straighten up, grass stalks!
Arise, all flowers!.. And rise, mountains,
Lifting the sky on your shoulders!

Everyone stand up and listen standing up
Preserved in all its glory
This word is ancient, holy!
Straighten up! Get up!.. Get up everyone!
As forests rise with a new dawn,
Like blades of grass rushing up to the sun,
Stand up everyone, having heard this word,
Because this word is life.

This word is a call and a spell,
In this word - the existing soul.
This is the first spark of consciousness,
Baby's first smile.

Let this word always be
And, breaking through any traffic jam,
Even in the heart of stone will awaken
Silenced conscience reproach.

This word will never deceive,
There is a life being hidden in it.
It is the source of everything. He has no end.
Get up! .. I pronounce it: “Mum !»

Lead 2. Each of us has his own mother, everyone's mothers are different: blue-eyed and green-eyed, blondes and brunettes, tall and small. But for us they are the closest and dearest. We want to present you a presentation of our drawings, in which we depicted our mothers.

Presentation from student drawings to the music of Ave, Maria G. Caccini

Lead 1. And here is what our mother of 2017 turned out to be!

Lead 2. Sirs and ladies! Ladies and Gentlemen! We thank you for Active participation in our literary parlour. Next topic our literary drawing room will be dedicated to the Great Victory. We also invite you to take part in the creation of drawings, poems, stories on this topic.

1. Aitmatov Ch. Maternal field: a story.

2. Belov V. Danya: story.

3. Bergholz O. Letter to Kama: a poem.

4. Bunin I. Mother: a poem.

5. Voronkova L. A girl from the city: a story.

6. Resurrection Z. Mother's heart: stories.

7. Georgievskaya S. Galina mother: a story.

8. Goncharov I. I am moved by you. A word about mother.- L .: Det. lit., 1988.-144 p.

9. Gorky M. Mother: a novel.

10. Dementiev A. Ballad about mother; Mom's memory.

11. Yevtushenko E. Mothers are leaving: a poem.

12. Emelyanov B. Mom's hands. Mother's grief: stories.

13. Yesenin S. Letter to the mother.

14. Zakrutkin V. The human mother: a story.

15. Zvyagintseva V. To the portrait of the mother: a poem.

16. Isakovsky M. Mothers. Mother's memory. Russian woman: poems.

17. Kornilov B. Mom: a poem.

18. Lukonin M. Mom: a poem.

19. Lvov M. Poems about the mother.

20. Mother: Collection of poems by Russians and Soviet poets about mother.

21. Nekrasov N. To whom in Russia it is good to live: a poem.

22. Paustovsky K. Telegram: story.

23. Rasputin V. Deadline: story.

24. Rubtsov N. In memory of the mother: a poem.

25. Smelyakov I. Here again I remembered you, mother ...: a poem.

26. Khaustov L. Mothers: a poem.

27. Shukshin V. Borya; maternal heart; Mother's dreams; Suraz: novels, short stories.

28. Yashin A. Alone with his mother. Mother's Prayer: Poems.

love

mothers...

Great and diverse is Russian poetry, which, during its development and existence, has managed to absorb and contain all the storms of social upheavals and transformations. Its civic and social sound and significance is indisputable. At the same time, she always knew how to capture and express the subtlest and most intimate movements of the human soul; and in harsh times, rising to the alarm thunder, poetry did not break off its pure and subtle melody of a heart in love; it opened and strengthened global philosophical truths, shocked hitherto existing ideas about the world order.

From this great sea, which seems to reflect all the abysses, you can draw incessantly - and it will never become shallow. It is no coincidence, therefore, that we publish voluminous collections and entire volumes of poems about comradeship and friendship, love and nature, soldier's courage and the Motherland. Any of these themes deserved and received its full and worthy embodiment in the deep and original works of the masters of poetry.

But there is one more holy page in our poetry, dear and close to any non-hardened heart, to any unlost soul that has not forgotten and not abandoned its origins - this is poetry about the mother.

The poet R. Gamzanov wrote, bowing to his mother:

Everyone stand up and listen standing,

Preserved in all its glory

The word is ancient, holy!

Straighten up! Get up! Stand up everyone!

This word will never deceive,

In it is hidden a being of life,

It is the source of everything. He has no end.

Get up, I pronounce it: mother! ..

Mum! How capacious, how beautiful is this word! Maxim Gorky wrote: “Without the sun, flowers do not bloom, without love there is no happiness, without a woman there is no love, without a mother there is neither a poet nor a hero, all the pride of the world comes from Mothers!”

What could be more sacred in the world than a mother! ..

From the first day of a child's life, the mother lives by his breath, his tears and smiles. A person who has not yet taken a step on the ground and is just starting to babble, uncertainly and diligently adds up “ma-ma” in syllables and, feeling his luck, seeing a joyful mother, laughs, happy ...

The sun warms all living things, and mother's love warms the life of the baby. Mom has the kindest and most affectionate heart. I recall lines from a poem by L. Nikolaenko:

I love you mom, why, I don't know

Probably because I live and dream

And I rejoice in the sun, and a bright day.

That's why I love you dear...

All the most precious shrines are named and illuminated by the name of the mother, because the very concept of life is connected with this name.

Happy is he who from childhood has known maternal affection and has grown up under the caring warmth and light of maternal gaze; and to death suffers and is tormented by the lost in early years their most precious being in the world - their mother; and even ending his seemingly not in vain and usefully lived century, he cannot, without tears and bitterness, recall this unhealed pain, this terrible damage that his merciless fate burdened him with.

It is no coincidence that with all our hearts we respond to the poetry of G. Lysenko, a poet from Vladivostok, whose biography is easily guessed behind the lines of poetry: homeless post-war childhood, cloudless youth ... The poet wrote a poem dedicated to the memory of his mother:

Hand casting a fresh throne:

Still warm. I will remember another copper.

Mother before her death will throw an icon into the oven -

Then I wouldn't even dare to do that.

Then the night seemed long to me.

Mother died.

I am naive with audacity

Vinyl in everything is not God, but doctors.

The poet V. Kazin showed his incomprehensible bitterness and loss in the final lines of the poem "On the Mother's Grave":

Oppresses and grief, and bewilderment,

A nail stuck in my being,

I stand - your living continuation,

The beginning has lost its own.

With respect and gratitude, we look at a person who reverently pronounces the name of his mother to gray hair and respectfully protects her old age; and with contempt - who forgot about the woman who gave birth and raised him, and in the bitter old age turned away from her, refused a good memory, a piece or shelter. A poem by the poet A. Remizova about feelings for her mother “Take care of mothers” will be very relevant for such people:

Please take care of mothers

Warmly shelter from the blizzard of life,

Their love is a hundred times hot

Than friends and beloved girlfriend.

Mother will take your pain

All the torment, confusion and torment,

Mother will put bread and salt on the road

And stretch out his hands towards you ...

In printed literature, which was originally reserved only for members of the upper classes, the image of the mother remained in the background for a long time. Perhaps the reason for this phenomenon is simple and natural: after all, then the children of the nobility, as a rule, were taken for education not only tutors, but also fed, and the children of the nobility, unlike peasant children, were artificially separated from their mother and fed with the milk of other women; therefore, there was - albeit not quite conscious - a dulling of filial feelings, which, in the final analysis, could not but affect the work of future poets.

It is no coincidence that not a single poem was written about his parent and so many lovely poetic dedications to his nanny Arina Rodionovna, whom the poet often called affectionately and carefully - “mother”.

We all know Pushkin's favorite lines:

Friend of my harsh days,

My decrepit dove!

Alone in the wilderness of pine forests

You've been waiting for me for a long, long time...

And indeed, nothing human was alien to Alexander Sergeevich. In these lines we hear his lively voice, the play of the poet's living feeling.

The theme of mother sounded really deep and strong in democratic poetry. Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov created a surprisingly whole and capacious image of a peasant woman-mother. Suffice it to recall his poems “... There are women in Russian villages”, “Village suffering is in full swing”, “Orina, a soldier’s mother”, “Knight for an hour”, the epic poem “To whom it is good to live in Russia”.

Mother's face already in oral folk poetry acquired the captivating features of a hearth keeper, a hardworking and faithful wife, a protector of her own children and an unfailing guardian for all the destitute, offended and offended. He continued this theme in his work. In the poem “To whom it is good to live in Russia,” the poet described the love for the children of a peasant woman, Matryona Timofeevna. Dyomushka's death was a terrible tragedy for his mother. All the hardships of a hard peasant life, the death of a child still cannot break Matryona Timofeevna. Time passes, she has children every year, and she continues to live, raise her children, and do hard work. Matryona Timofeevna is ready to do anything to protect her beloved children. This is evidenced by an episode when they wanted to punish her son Fedot for a fault. Matryona throws herself at the feet of a passing landowner to help save the boy from punishment. And the landowner said:

Shepherd of a minor

By youth, by stupidity

Forgive ... but a daring woman

About to punish!

Why did Matryona Timofeevna suffer punishment? For his boundless love for children, for his willingness to sacrifice himself for them.

The traditions of Nekrasov were promptly picked up and widely and fully developed not only by such poets as I. Surikov, I. Nikitin, but in the course of further literary process and later authors. Of these, first of all, it is necessary to name the name of Sergei Yesenin, who created surprisingly sincere and emotional poems about his mother, a peasant woman by birth and occupation, therefore, in some ways continuing the gallery of Nekrasov's images.

One of S. Yesenin's poems "Letter to Mother" is addressed to himself close person on Earth and begins with the appeal:

Are you still alive, my old lady?

I'm alive too. Hello you, hello!

Let it flow over your hut

That evening unspeakable light...

… That you often go to the road

In an old-fashioned ramshackle.

The image of the poem expresses the motive of the meeting. From Yesenin's lines:

They write to me that you, concealing anxiety,

She was very sad about me,

you can find out that Yesenin's mother is alive and anxiously waiting for a meeting with her son.

In difficult moments of his life, his heart was drawn to the parental hearth. Many Russian poets have written about mothers more than once, but it seems to me that Yesenin's poems can be called the most touching declarations of love to a "dear, dear old woman." His lines are full of piercing cordiality.

Peaceful labor, procreation, the unity of man with nature - these are the ideals according to which history should be tuned. Any deviation from this life, established for centuries, threatens with unpredictable consequences, leads to tragedy, to misfortune.

The name of this misfortune is war. The joy of life is overshadowed by the memories of the dead and those who did not return. And no matter how many simple-haired mothers run out into the alleys and look from under the palms - do not wait for those dear to the heart! No matter how many tears flow from swollen and discolored eyes, do not wash away the longing! It is about such aged, bent to the ground from vigilant maternal grief that many poems were written by the poets A. Tvardovsky, Y. Smelyakov, D. Blynsky, O. Bergholz, M. Maksimov, A. Dementyev ...

It is impossible without inner trepidation and deep complicity to read the lines of high meaning from Nekrasov’s poem “Listening to the horrors of war” about the holy sincere tears of mothers:

... Holy, sincere tears -

These are the tears of poor mothers!

They can't forget their children

Those who died in the bloody field,

How not to raise a weeping willow

Of their drooping branches...

This topic is continued by A. Nedogonov in the poem "Mother's Tears" despite the fact that his son returned from the war:

... The fifth snow swirled, swirled the road

Above the bones of the enemy at the Mozhaisk birch.

The gray-haired son returned to his native threshold ...

Mother's tears, mother's tears!

Another era dictated its own motives. The image of the mother began to look even more tragic against the backdrop of the great and terrible in its bitterness of the past war. Who more than a mother endured suffering at this time? She lost her sons at the front, survived the occupation and was left with small children in her arms without bread and shelter, she worked to exhaustion in the shops and fields and, with all her might helping the Fatherland to stand, shared the last piece with the front. She endured and overcame everything, and therefore, in our minds, the concepts of “motherland” and “mother” have long merged into one.

The beautiful, courageous image of the mother-heroine is described in the poem "Mother":

... And herself, like a mother bird, towards -

Take the enemy away for a short time.

And one grabbed her by the shoulders,

And another tore off her handkerchief.

But what fire was still hidden

In this weak, withered chest!

She smiled at the soldier.

Have you dealt with the old lady? Lead! -

Led, dragged to torment

For love and honor to answer.

They broke her, tied her hands -

Hands that worked for so many years.

That they cooked food, mowed rye,

That versts of cloth were woven,

That the sons-bogatyrs raised -

Far away sons. Around the war ...

Beaten - not killed. Like a dog

They quit. Woke up with dew.

That's okay. You can even cry

So that the dogs do not see the tears ...

The image of a mother from time immemorial bore the features of drama and even tragedy, and almost always, and above all, sounded social: if a mother, the most holy creature on earth, is bad, then is it possible to talk about the justice of the world?

It is impossible to remain indifferent to the poem "Requiem".

An unfamiliar woman asked her to describe all the horrors of Yezhovism, just like the one who stood in the prison queues in Leningrad. And Anna Andreevna responded. And it could not be otherwise, because, as she herself says:

I was then with my people,

Where my people, unfortunately, were...

Repressions fell not only on friends, but also on the Akhmatova family: the son, Lev Gumilyov, was arrested and exiled, and then the husband, and earlier, in 1921, the first husband, Yev, was shot.

Husband in the grave, son in prison,

Pray for me... -

she writes in the "Requiem", and in these lines one can hear the prayer of an unfortunate woman who has lost her loved ones.

Before us is the fate of the mother and son, whose images are correlated with the gospel symbols. We see either a simple woman whose husband is arrested at night, or a biblical Mother, whose Son was crucified. Here we have before us a simple Russian woman, in whose memory the crying of children, the swollen candle near the goddess, the sweat of death on the face of a loved one who is taken away at dawn will forever remain. She will cry for him in the same way that archery wives once cried under the walls of the Kremlin. Then suddenly we have before us the image of a mother, so similar to Anna Akhmatova herself, who cannot believe that everything is happening to her - a “mockery”, a “darling” ... How could she ever think that she would be the 300th in line at the Crosses . And now her whole life in these queues:

I've been screaming for seventeen months

I'm calling you home

I threw myself at the feet of the executioner,

You are my son and my horror ...

It is impossible to make out who is the "beast", who is the "man", because innocent people are arrested, and all the mother's thoughts involuntarily turn to death.

And then the verdict sounds - the “stone word”, and you have to kill the memory, make the soul petrified and learn to live again. And the mother again thinks about death, only now - her own. She seems to be her salvation, and it doesn’t matter what form she takes: “poisoned shell”, “weight”, “typhoid child”, - the main thing is that she will relieve suffering and spiritual emptiness. These sufferings are comparable only to the sufferings of the Mother of Jesus, who also lost her son.

But the mother understands that this is only madness, because death will not allow you to take with you:

Not a son of terrible eyes -

petrified suffering,

Not the day when the storm came

Not an hour of a prison meeting ...

So, we must live in order to name those who died in Stalin's dungeons, to remember always and everywhere who stood "both in the bitter cold and in the July heat under the blinded red wall."

There is a poem in the poem called "The Crucifixion". It describes last minutes life of Jesus, his address to his mother and father. There is a misunderstanding of what is happening, and the realization comes that everything that is happening is meaningless and unfair, because there is nothing worse than the death of an innocent person and the grief of a mother who has lost her son.

In the poem, A. Akhmatova showed her involvement in the fate of the country. The famous prose writer B. Zaitsev, after reading the Requiem, said: “Could it be possible to imagine that this fragile and thin woman would make such a cry - female, maternal, a cry not only about herself, but also about all those who suffer - wives, mothers, brides , in general, about all those who are crucified? And it is impossible for a lyrical heroine to forget mothers who suddenly turned gray-haired, the howl of an old woman who lost her son and not embody their images in the poem. And the poem "Requiem" sounds for all those who died in the terrible time of repression, like a memorial prayer.

How stingy and tragic it sounds, how simple and close everything is to our time. And again, the crimson reflections of recent conflagrations instantly come to life in the blood, deadly shells howl and rumble, screams of horror and impotent groans are heard. And above all this torn and torn world, in silent sorrow, the bent figure of a mother grows.

In 2005, Lysenko Mila wrote another "Requiem for the Boys of the 131st Maikop Brigade" to sad date January 2, 1995, when our life exploded along with the explosions of the first shells in Grozny. Her son fought in this war. The mother recalls: “Yes, these shells not only tore the lives of our boys who served in the Maikop 131 motorized rifle brigade, they tore the lives of hundreds, thousands of families. Those who died and those who are alive - we must always remember this ... ”This is how Mila describes the image of a mother, love for her son, memory for children in Requiem for the Boys of the 131st Maikop Brigade”:

... Asphalt in the blood, huge blockages ...

Cars are burning, the flames are like daylight!

And at home, mothers watch TV,

Praying fate: "If only not about him!"

I read a telegram in the mail

She suddenly lost consciousness

And this is the son, keeping the mother's health -

He did not tell her where he went then.

And this mother, not believing her dreams,

Waited, and mentally shielding from the bullet,

Losing strength, weaving an alu shawl,

As if protecting her son.

And protected and found him,

When the strength is already running out,

AT distant city shell-shocked lay,

And yet he is alive, thin, but he walks, walks!

But how many of them, who, having waited,

Let's go look for our own boys!

How many months they walked around the yards,

Asking, crying all the quieter.

Then they learned with great difficulty

Out of a thousand of the same burnt ones,

Then they were buried by the whole regiment,

Playing music on the nerves of the bare.

And coming here for the tenth time

We want to say, shedding tears:

Relatives, you are all alive for us,

And you will be alive for years, years! ..

Even in the most seemingly quiet times an ominous fate hung over the mother and disturbed, therefore the Russian mother from distant centuries bears the stamp of eternal suffering. Prosperous people, carelessly bathing in their happiness, rarely rise to understand the suffering of their neighbor; perhaps that is why the mother in our literature, who has had plenty of dashing, is most often a compassionate person, able to understand and console the bypassed and neglected, support the weak and inspire faith in the disappointed. The power of maternal feelings is clearly and succinctly stated in L. Tatyanicheva’s poem “Sons”:

They tell me it's too much

I give love to children

What maternal anxiety

Makes my life older.

Well, what can I answer them -

As impassive as armor?

The love I gave to children

Makes me stronger...

But, acquiring the features of a symbol and fulfilling a huge social mission, the mother never lost her habitual human features, remaining a hospitable hostess and an intelligent interlocutor, a diligent worker and a born songwriter, wide at a feast and courageous in grief, open in joy and restrained in sadness, and always kind, understanding and feminine.

Motherhood itself is a whole world.

Summarizing all of the above, bowing to the poets who skillfully, sincerely, lovingly described the image of the mother, I will try to create literary portrait in a few lines of a poem in prose of his own composition: “You are in my thoughts like that! Heavenly blueness - bright, clear. In the transparency of deep colors of inexplicable purity, with eyes of blue dreams, you stopped, lifting the child so that it could look at the path leading to the grove in the radiant fog. And on your face there is peace and grace - your two companions and every mother who is ready to suffer and wait for the child - to her, her first, to utter her word that is about to be born.

How not to be proud of her, one of the mothers, the initial seed great life to whom she gave birth - like every mother in the world, who gives childhood to the world, neglecting her torment. So the sun gives the world at dawn its first ray, a new baby earthly day. And one who can weigh a grain of sand on his hand, imperceptible in the sand, is able to feel the entire weight of the planet. So the mother, her child, lifting up - holds the whole Earth. And that’s the only reason she can be called a saint.”

In essence, the image of the mother in Russian poetry has become a kind of standard of feminine virtues. The generous imagination of poets draws us an almost flawless being, but the tongue does not dare to say that such an addiction somewhere at times inevitably leads to idealization: indeed, the mother was and remains an outstanding personality!

Mother!.. Undoubtedly, this is one of the most profound and harmonious creations of Russian poetry!

Literature

1. Gamzanov R. "Stand up and listen standing up ..." // Vekshegonova I. Mom. Poems of Russian poets about mother. - M .: Young Guard, 1980.- p. 39

2. Gorky about Italy. - M .: Fiction, 1973.- p.59

3. Nikolaenko L. "I love you, mom ..." // Vekshegonova I. Mom. Poems of Russian poets about mother. - M .: Young Guard, 1980.- p. 39

4. Lysenko G. Hand casting a fresh throne // Lysenko G. Roof over the head.- V .: Far Eastern book publishing house, 1979.- p. ten

5. Kazin V. At the mother's grave // ​​Vekshegonova I. Mom. Poems of Russian poets about mother. - M .: Young Guard, 1980.- p. 107

6. Remizova A. Take care of mothers // Scientific and methodological journal " Classroom teacher”, 2004 No. 3.- p. 110

7. Pushkin // Pushkin. - M .: Children's literature, 1978. - p. 174

8. Nekrasov in Russia to live well // Nekrasov. - T.3.- M .: Pravda, 1954. - p. 83-96

9. Yesenin mother // Yesenin. - M .: Fiction, 1985.- p. 76

10. "Listening to the horrors of war ..." // Nekrasov works. In 2 vols. T. 1.- M .: Fiction, 1966. - p.110

11. Nedogonov A. Maternal tears // Vekshegonova I. Mom. Poems of Russian poets about mother. - M .: Young Guard, 1980.- p. 53

12. Tvardovsky // Tvardovsky. - M .: Children's literature, 1985. - p.18

13. Akhmatova // Akhmatova and poems. - M .: Young Guard, 1989. - p. 147-157

14. Tatyanicheva L. Sons // Vekshegonova I. Mom. Poems of Russian poets about mother. - M .: Young Guard, 1980.- p. 39

15. Kolesnikova O. You are in my thoughts like that. Poem in prose // Kolesnikova O. The image of the mother in poetry. - D .: 2008

Appendix to the work "The Image of the Mother in Poetry"

Creative work of a student of the second year of group No. 82

by profession "Cook, confectioner"

Valuyskaya Anastasia Sergeevna

"The image of the mother" (6 drawings)

-- [ Page 2 ] --

But nevertheless, the main line of development of the theme of the mother in Blok is determined by the feminine as a special element and a philosophical and poetic category that plays the main organizing role in Blok's poetry not only in his early period, but throughout his entire life. creative way. In addition to the lyrical hero, a certain lyrical I, the lyrical You as the object of Blok's poetry is of no less importance. Behind this You at all stages of his journey was a heroine, a woman constantly changing, appearing in different guises, but always performing a certain sacred function of a feminine deity in Blok's poetic world. Blok's female lyrical You is changeable and many-sided, and the maternal one is present in it, even if it does not dominate. In "Poems about beautiful lady”a further path of changes, even betrayals and falls of the lyrical You, to which all Blok's poetry is addressed, has already been laid. Gradually, there is democratization, “grounding” of the female image in Blok. We can talk about the same way of "incarnating" Blok's heroine as his lyrical hero.

So one of the faces of the feminine deity, to which all the poetry of Blok is addressed, is the mysterious face of Russia. Her image is also ambiguous - either this is the face of a simple Russian woman in a colored scarf, then this is Russia with sorcerers and soothsayers, then gypsy Russia, galloping on a horse from the steppe, waving a colorful sleeve out the window, then this is Russia of Christ - in tatters, against the background autumn landscape.

In the third volume of Blok's poetic trilogy, the theme of the homeland and the poet's appeal to the world of objective reality come to the fore. Here the deity of his poetry is revealed in the image of Russia, in the elements of the people's soul, in every simple Russian woman. Most often, this last stage of his poetry is characterized as Blok's entry into the path of realism. The realist tendencies really intensify in the third volume, which contributes to the development of the theme of the homeland and the traditionally associated theme of the mother.

The image of the motherland in Blok incorporates the images of the Russian Mother of God, simple, folk heroines, as well as images of Russian nature. The culmination of the development of these images in Blok is in the section of the third volume "Motherland". Russia itself becomes the female image of this section, and this Blok image is rooted in the soil of folk culture.

Here comes another important aspect Blok's image of the motherland is historical. Almost every poem from the Motherland cycle refers to the Russian historical past. Blok's poetic historicism is most obvious and original in the cycle of five poems "On the Kulikovo Field". Three aspects of the maternal theme in literature are combined here in the images of Russia, the universal mother, for which there is a mortal battle, in the image of one mother out of thousands of mothers: aspect of motherhood - the image of the Mother of God, under whose protection Russian army. Here, the already rare “You” for Blok reappears with capital letter, now it refers to the Mother of God. And, despite the fact that “You” turns into a new face, and the female image is again crushed and multiplied, nevertheless, the last poem of the section “Motherland” apparently sums up the main themes and motives - the poem “Kite” of 1916 . It is not accidentally placed last, and performs the function of the final one. It seems to be the result of the poet's path to the image of the motherland. It is significant that here the image of the motherland is already directly correlated with the image of the mother. This poem is a sign, a symbol that has absorbed in a folded form the whole theme of Russia and femininity in Blok. The poem combines its main images and themes: both a formidable omen of a kite circling over the mother - a symbol that often accompanies the image of the mother in Blok, and the “Nekrasovsky” image of the mother with the baby in the hut, raising her son for “submission” and “cross”.

It is also significant that in such a capacious work, for the first time, Blok appears in the direct speech of his mother, a simple peasant woman. Last rhetorical question: “How long will mothers grieve? / How long will the kite circle?” carries the eternal Blok idea of ​​a constant return, cyclization of history, and in these laconic lines lies the inevitability and doom in the fate of mothers.

Covering the creative path of Blok as a whole, we can summarize: Blok, associated at the beginning of the century with the search for the ideal feminine principle and elevating the female image to the divine in his work, ultimately through the reduction (even fall), concretization and prosaicization of the female image and all her poetic manners comes to the image of the mother precisely in the meaning of the homeland.

The romantic roots of Blok's poetics, symbolization as its main principle, a gradual appeal to reality, the influence of realistic (Nekrasov's) traditions, a decrease in vocabulary, the entry of the everyday sphere into poetry, images-characters from the people (along with the lyrical I and You) - all this serves as a stylistic "soil" for Blok's theme of mother and eventually leads to the lyrics of the third volume with the central image of the motherland. The image of the mother, crowning the path of Blok, already acts as a national symbol and combines the religious and philosophical category of the highest feminine principle and the historiosophical image of the motherland.

Chapter 3. The image of the mother in the poetry of A. Akhmatova

In the third chapter, we explore the work of A. Akhmatova and her image of the mother, which is actually equal to her lyrical heroine, expressed in the first person, through the speech of the mother. In Akhmatova's poetry we find three different images mother, expressed in the first person and corresponding to three different periods her creative path. This image dates back to the acmeist period on the basis of increased attention to the outside world and concrete reality, declared by the acmeists, and consistently passes through all the stages of Akhmatov's creative path, reflecting changes in her artistic world and poetics, as well as absorbing the historical signs of the times. Akhmatova's image of the mother is expressed in the first person and is a facet of her image. lyrical heroine. The lyrical nature of her image of the mother is confirmed by the attraction to psychologism, reflection inner peace and consciousness. In lyrics, psychologism is expressive: the subject of speech and the object of the image coincide. Undoubtedly, the world depicted by Akhmatova is always an inner, psychological world. At the same time, her poems are distinguished by monologism - a stylistic feature of the lyrics; the works are constructed as a lyrical monologue. In cases where Akhmatova uses a form of dialogue or the principles of "role lyrics" as defined by B.O. Korman, her "characters" are called upon to express different faces her lyrical consciousness - this can already be seen in the first poem related to the theme of the mother “Where, high, is your gypsy?” (1914). In this poem originates and most significant for early poetry Akhmatova's motive - we define it by the well-known line "I am a bad mother." This is a repentant motive, the motive of maternal guilt.

As for repentant motives and the image of an unworthy mother, they are quite stable in the poems of the first period of Akhmatov’s work (for example, in the farewell lines addressed to his son: “I didn’t scold, I didn’t caress, / I didn’t take communion ...”)

This motif is most clearly manifested in the Lullaby of 1915. This poem is completely a direct speech of the mother. But in comparison, for example, with Lermontov's Cossack Lullaby, Akhmatova's mother does not escort her son into the world, does not instruct him before the beginning of life (or does not console him, as in Nekrasov's "Bayushki-bai", before death). Here most of The poem is dedicated to the father, the man, and, first of all, to the mother herself with her bitter sigh: Sleep, my quiet one, sleep, my boy, / I am a bad mother ....

It must be remembered that even in the early Akhmatov period, new, unexpected for the image of her then heroine, civic motives and the lofty theme of the motherland (“July 1914”, “In Memory of July 19, 1914”, poems of the early 1920s), were woven into her work, preparing the transition to the next, sharply different periods. The turn from "chamber", intimate poems about love to high themes and civic pathos is already noticeable in early lyrics Akhmatova. An example of this change is the Prayer of 1915, with its sharply impressive, even repulsive image of a mother ready to sacrifice her child for the Motherland.

Already in the next period, Akhmatova's poetry includes a different image of the mother, which we conditionally designate with the quote "three hundredth with a transfer" - this is one of the thousands of mothers who give their sons to the cross.

A similar image of the mother is revealed primarily in the "Requiem" (1935-1940). The purpose and main idea of ​​the requiem as a genre is commemoration, preservation from oblivion and mourning, moreover, this is a work for the choir. Akhmatova's voice here begins to sound on behalf of millions, her image approaches the image of a mourner. At the same time, his own, personal pain associated with real biography author: the lyrical experience of the mother forms the basis of the plot of "Requiem". But constant historical allusions, as well as eternal biblical images, timeless motives, along with real everyday, typical details of those years, expand the private individual grief to national tragedy and convey the eternal nature of mother's suffering. The heroine herself calls herself "three hundredth with a transfer", this serial number emphasizing the multiplicity of such maternal, female destinies nearby, around her in the prison queue, and her involvement in a common tragedy. But the typical, inscribed in the socio-historical reality, the image of the mother here is attached to the highest aspect of motherhood - the image of the Mother of God.

The finale of the "Requiem" comes in direct parallel with the crucifixion, to the image of the mother at the son's cross, as if the voice of the Mother of God sounded during the Stalinist terror. So real-household psychological image Akhmatova's mother could be expressed on behalf of the mother herself through the image of the Virgin.

"Requiem" is supplemented by several passages, united in the "Shards" cycle with an epigraph from "Ulysses" by Joyce: "You cannot leave your mother an orphan." All these little verses are almost rough sketches or diary entries, they are so fragmentarily, hastily recorded, the formal side is not important in them, and only the mother's pain for her son is important and - the memory of real events those years. These are some notes for the future in order to save everything that once really was.

Another poem, written in the late thirties and reflecting the fate and consciousness of the mother in an unexpected form, is “Imitation of the Armenian”. The peculiarity of Akhmatova's imitation is that she herself or her lyrical heroine speaks on behalf of the sheep itself, while her speech is addressed not just to the person who ate the lamb, but to the tyrant, to the eastern "padishah", which emphasizes the connection with the real autobiographical situation. Here there is both an indication of a modern oriental despot, and a reflection in the images of a sheep-mother and a son-lamb of personal tragedy.

We designated the third stage of changes in Akhmatov's image of the mother with the quote "My little ones!", which is no longer the self-identification of the lyrical heroine, but is addressed to those children, orphans, sons-soldiers, to whom her poems from the time of the Great Patriotic War. During this period, the line between the voice of the heroine-mother and the voice of the author of poems becomes even thinner. During the war years, a new female image appeared in Soviet poetry - the image of the “universal mother”, “mother in general”, who perceived Russian soldiers as her own children, mourning the dead and extending her care to everyone who defends their homeland from the enemy. During the war years, Akhmatova's motherly voice acquired a sound akin to such a generalized image of the mother. Her speech in the first person no longer tells about herself, only indirectly new features of her lyrical heroine are revealed - through a maternal attitude towards "children".

The images of children "in general" were concretized by Akhmatova in the images of Vova and Valya Smirnov, who remained in besieged Leningrad where one of them died.

Akhmatova's poems, dedicated to the soldiers who fell for the Motherland, are written in the same fragmentary, brief way, as if snatched from the flow of the main text. In addition to the stylistic features of these small works, the position of the author, the angle of his view is important: all poems about children and sons-soldiers of wartime are written on behalf of the "universal mother". This motive is especially felt in the 1944 poem “To the Winners”, where Akhmatova seeks to “name everyone by name”, to pronounce the most common Russian names of her sons-heroes.

Unlike the definitions “bad mother” and “three hundredth with a transmission”, reflecting the facets of Akhmatova’s image of a mother at different stages of his work, the latter designation is not a self-definition and does not refer to the image of the lyrical heroine Akhmatova. “My little ones” is an appeal to children on behalf of the mother. Thus, during the war, the lyrical heroine's renunciation of expressing her feelings and the transition to an open monologue on behalf of her mother, addressed to her sons, are evident. It can be concluded that the final image of Akhmatova's mother, which took shape during the war, is close to the image of the motherland as a universal mother and is expressed on her behalf.

Chapter 4. The image of the mother in the poetry of A. Tvardovsky

The fourth chapter presents an analysis of the theme of the mother in the work of A. Tvardovsky as an example of an objective, epic embodiment of the image of the mother. The theme of mother in A. Tvardovsky can be called the third theme in his work - along with the two that he singled out himself: collective farms in early period and war in mature. In Tvardovsky's poetry, the theme of the mother is present from the very beginning to the end of the path. The image of the mother is central in the poetic world of Tvardovsky and rises from the private - dedications to his own mother - to the universal and highest aspect of motherhood in Russian poetry - the image of the motherland.

Despite the extremely poor coverage in the bibliography about Tvardovsky of this side of his work, it is obvious that the most important motifs for the poet are memory, native places ( small homeland), filial duty and filial gratitude are combined precisely in the image of a mother, and this connection is a separate theme in his work. At the same time, the theme of the mother in Tvardovsky is based on the entire previous experience of Russian culture; especially folk song poetry and the Nekrasov tradition are her historical basis.

Not once noted by critics as a feature artistic world poet's absence love lyrics Tvardovsky, and on the other hand - the power of sincerity, penetration in poems dedicated to the mother. Similar poems of the early period (from 1927 to 1940) can be divided into three thematic section: poems dedicated to the poet’s mother and her fate, poems about a Russian peasant woman (whose generalized image gives the image of a mother as a result, because “worker” and “mother” are the two main incarnations of a woman in Tvardovsky) and poems of a heroic theme , where the image of the mother of the son-hero most often appears.

The poem "Mother" of 1927 is a memory-appeal to the mother. Her image, from this poem to the end, is connected with the image of his small homeland, nature.

The poem "Song" of 1936 is also built on the images of memory, memories, reminders. An adult son puts on a record with a song that he himself does not remember, but this song awakens the mother's memory. As soon as she remembers this song, pictures of the past, of her youth appear before her. Song, work and motherhood appear here in turn - the main images in the poems about the mother.

In 1937, a poem reappears with the title "Mothers". The image of the mother is given here again through memory, reminders - the poet names specific things that carry the memory of the mother for him. It should be noted that in this very short and simple poem there is everything that constitutes the theme of the mother for Tvardovsky. It is no coincidence that the memory of the mother comes through such images as nature, work and song. This poem is a rare example in Tvardovsky's work of "plotless" verse. This is also the rarest example of white verse in Tvardovsky. Tvardovsky, who hated "beautifulness", tricks in poetry, in a poem about his mother avoids even rhymes, as well as big words.

Tvardovsky described the real fate of his mother in a 1935 poem “With one beauty you came to your husband’s house ...” The story of one fate takes place against the backdrop of history in general, the plot privacy on the background common life countries. It was not in vain that Tvardovsky called himself a prose writer: in this poem he consistently tells the story of his mother's life, doing without comparisons, metaphors, vivid rhymes. From the prose writer in him is the fact that the image of a woman, wife and mother is correctly guessed in his poems as psychological type, she took place as a character.

In this vein, an objectively existing image of the mother arises, created, as it were, according to the laws of prose, as a character. This is especially noticeable in the poems about new mothers. Soviet heroes(“Sailor”, “Flight”, “Son”, “Mother and Son”, “You will timidly raise him ...”). The best in this series of poems of the 30s is “You will timidly lift him up ...” (1936), where a genuine image of the hero’s mother is created, where the mother’s voice sounds simple and natural, not coinciding with the general pathos of the poem.

During the war years, the image of the mother becomes more significant in the work of Tvardovsky, fueled along with other poetic images and themes from a common tragic source. Being previously closely associated with the images of the small homeland and the earth as soil (“mother-damp-earth”), the image of the mother is now equated with the image of the universal Motherland, the country. Being correlated with the images of simple peasant women, now the image of the mother is combined with the female images of Tvardovsky. Maternal love and a woman's love for a man, usually arguing with Tvardovsky, are equalized in war.

Returning to the problem of love lyrics in Tvardovsky, we note that in the early period, it was partly replaced by the theme of the mother. In addition, due to the epic nature of Tvardovsky's poetic method, the theme of love was embodied in his work objectively, through one character or another.

During the war years, against the background of the tragedy, it became possible to show a woman in love with a man and children. The highest achievement of the fusion of the image of the mother and the image of a woman was Anna Sivtsova in the poem "House by the Road".

In the post-war, last period of creativity, the image of the mother as a character leaves the works of Tvardovsky. AT later work the theme of the mother in Tvardovsky is finally connected with the theme of memory. The complete transfer of the image of the mother to the area of ​​memory occurs in the cycle "In Memory of the Mother", written in 1965. Here, as such, there is no image of the mother, that is, no new features are added to the image already familiar to us; here the mother lives only in the memory of the son, and therefore his feelings, filial grief are revealed more than the image of the mother, which has become incorporeal. This generally corresponds to the change in the late Tvardovsky, the transition from the epic to the lyrics.

The cycle consists of four poems dedicated to the mother, the internal movement of which is from memories and discussions about the life of the mother to the death of the mother and into last poem- back to life through memory.