Only a song needs beauty (according to Fet’s poetry). And a fierce cold grabs your heart

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Beauty is spread throughout the entire universe...”, said the poet. For Fet, nature becomes a means of expressing a lyrical feeling of delight and pleasure.

Creation beautiful poems about love is explained not only by the divine gift and the special talent of the poet. In the case of Fet, it also has a real autobiographical background. Fet's inspiration was the love of his youth - the daughter of a Serbian landowner, Maria Lazic. Their love was as high and unquenchable as it was tragic. Lazic knew that Fet would never marry her, nevertheless, her last words before her death were the exclamation: “It’s not he who is to blame, but me!” The circumstances of her death have not been clarified, as have the circumstances of Fet’s birth, but there is reason to believe that it was suicide. The consciousness of indirect guilt and the severity of the loss weighed on Fet throughout his life, and the result of this was a dual world, something akin to the dual world of Zhukovsky. Contemporaries noted Fet's coldness, prudence and even some cruelty in Everyday life. But what a contrast this makes with Fet’s other world - the world of his lyrical experiences, embodied in his poems. All his life Zhukovsky believed in connecting with Masha Protasova in another world, he lived with these memories. Fet is also immersed in his own world, because only in it is unity with his beloved possible. Fet feels himself and his beloved (his “second self”) inseparably merged in another existence, which actually continues in the world of poetry: “And although I am destined to drag out life without you, we are together with you, we cannot be separated.” (“Alter ego.”) The poet constantly feels spiritual closeness with his beloved. The poems “You have suffered, I still suffer...”, “In the silence and darkness of a mysterious night...” are about this. He gives to his beloved solemn promise: “I will carry your light through earthly life: it is mine - and with it a double existence” (“Terribly inviting and in vain...”).

The poet speaks directly about “double existence”, that his earthly life will only help him endure the “immortality” of his beloved, that she is alive in his soul. Indeed, for the poet, the image of his beloved woman throughout his life was not only a beautiful and long-gone ideal of another world, but also a moral judge of his earthly life. In the poem “Dream,” also dedicated to Maria Lazic, this is felt especially clearly. The poem has an autobiographical basis; Lieutenant Losev is easily recognizable as Fet himself, and the medieval house where he stayed also has its prototype in Dorpat. The comic description of the “club of devils” gives way to a certain moralizing aspect: the lieutenant hesitates in his choice, and he is reminded of a completely different image - the image of his long-dead beloved. He turns to her for advice: “Oh, what would you say, I dare not name who with these sinful thoughts.”

Literary critic Blagoy, in his research, points out the correspondence of these lines to Virgil’s words to Dante that “as a pagan, he cannot accompany him to heaven, and Beatrice is given to him as a companion.” The image of Maria Lazic (and this is undoubtedly her) for Fet is a moral ideal; the poet’s whole life is a desire for an ideal and hope for reunification.

But Fet’s love lyrics are filled not only with a feeling of hope and hope. She is also deeply tragic. The feeling of love is very contradictory; it is not only joy, but also torment and suffering. Poems often contain such combinations as joy - suffering, “the bliss of suffering,” “the sweetness of secret torments.” The poem “Don't wake her up at dawn” is filled with such a double meaning. At first glance, we see a serene picture of a girl’s morning sleep. But already the second quatrain conveys some kind of tension and destroys this serenity: “And her pillow is hot, and her weary sleep is hot.” The appearance of “strange” epithets, such as “tiring sleep,” no longer indicates serenity, but some kind of painful state close to delirium. The reason for this state is further explained, the poem reaches its climax: “She became paler and paler, her heart beat more and more painfully.” The tension grows, and suddenly the last quatrain completely changes the picture, leaving the reader in bewilderment: “Don’t wake her, don’t wake her, at dawn she sleeps so sweetly.” These lines provide a contrast with the middle of the poem and return us to the harmony of the first lines, but on a new turn. The call “don’t wake her up” sounds almost hysterical, like a cry from the soul. The same impulse of passion is felt in the poem “The night was shining, the garden was full of the moon...”, dedicated to Tatyana Bers. The tension is emphasized by the refrain: “Love you, hug you and cry over you.” In this poem, the quiet picture of the night garden gives way to and contrasts with the storm in the poet’s soul: “The piano was all open and the strings in it trembled, just like our hearts behind your song.”

The “languorous and boring” life is contrasted with the “burning torment of the heart”; the purpose of life is concentrated in a single impulse of the soul, even if in it it burns to the ground. For Fet, love is a fire, just like poetry is a flame in which the soul burns. “Didn’t anything whisper to you at that time: a man was burned there!” - Fet exclaims in the poem “When you read the painful lines...”. It seems to me that Fet could have said the same thing about the torment of love experiences. But once “burned out”, that is, survived true love Fet, however, is not devastated, and all his life he retained in his memory the freshness of these feelings and the image of his beloved.

Fet was once asked how, at his age, he could write about love so youthfully? He answered: from memory. Blagoy says that “Fet is distinguished by an exceptionally strong poetic memory,” and cites the example of the poem “On the Swing,” the impetus for writing which was a memory 40 years ago (the poem was written in 1890). “Forty years ago I was swinging on a swing with a girl, standing on a board, and her dress was flapping in the wind,” Fet writes in a letter to Polonsky. Such a “sound detail” (Blagoy), like a dress that “crackled in the wind,” is most memorable for the poet-musician. All of Fet's poetry is built on sounds, modulations and sound images. Turgenev said about Fet that he expected a poem from him, the last lines of which would have to be conveyed only by the silent movement of his lips. A striking example The poem “Whisper, timid breathing...”, which is built on only nouns and adjectives, without a single verb, can serve. Commas and Exclamation point They also convey the splendor and tension of the moment with realistic specificity. This poem creates a point image, which, when viewed closely, gives chaos, “a series of magical” “changes” elusive to the human eye, and in the distance - an accurate picture. Fet, as an impressionist, bases his poetry, and in particular the description of love experiences and memories, on the direct recording of his subjective observations and impressions. Condensation, but not mixing of colorful strokes, as in Monet’s paintings, gives the description of love experiences a culmination and extreme clarity to the image of the beloved. What is she like?

“I know your passion for hair,” Grigoriev tells Fet about his story “Cactus.” This passion is manifested more than once in Fetov’s poems: “I love to look at your long lock of hair,” “golden fleece of curls,” “braids running in a heavy knot,” “a strand of fluffy hair,” and “braids with a ribbon on both sides.” Although these descriptions are somewhat general character, nevertheless, a fairly clear image of a beautiful girl is created. Fet describes her eyes a little differently. Either this is a “radiant gaze”, or “motionless eyes, crazy eyes” (similar to Tyutchev’s poem “I knew my eyes, oh these eyes”). “Your gaze is open and fearless,” writes Fet, and in the same poem he talks about “ fine lines ideal." For Fet, his beloved is a moral judge and ideal. She has great power over the poet throughout his life, although already in 1850, shortly after Lazic’s death, Fet writes: “My ideal world was destroyed long ago.” The influence of the beloved woman on the poet is also felt in the poem “For a long time I dreamed of the cries of your sobs.” The poet calls himself “an unfortunate executioner,” he acutely feels his guilt for the death of his beloved, and the punishment for this was “two drops of tears” and “cold trembling,” which he endured forever during “sleepless nights.” This poem is painted in Tyutchev's tones and absorbs Tyutchev's drama.

The biographies of these two poets are similar in many ways - they both experienced the death of their beloved woman, and the immense longing for what was lost gave food for the creation of beautiful love poems. In the case of Fet, this fact seems most strange - how can you first ruin a girl, and then write sublime poems about her all your life? It seems to me that the loss made such a deep impression on Fet that the poet experienced a certain catharsis, and the result of this suffering was the genius of Fet - he was admitted to high sphere poetry, all his descriptions of his favorite experiences and the feeling of the tragedy of love have such a strong effect on the reader because Fet himself experienced them, and his creative genius put these experiences into poetic form. Only the power of poetry was able to convey them, following Tyutchev’s saying: a thought expressed is a lie. Fet himself repeatedly speaks about the power of poetry: “How rich I am in crazy verses.”

Fet's love lyrics make it possible to penetrate deeper into his general philosophical, and, accordingly, aesthetic views, as Blagoy says, “in his solution to the fundamental question of the relationship between art and reality.” Love, like poetry, according to Fet, refers to another, other world, which is dear and close to Fet. In his poems about love, Fet acted “not as a militant preacher of pure art in opposition to the sixties, but created his own and valuable world” (Blagoy). And this world is filled with true experiences, the spiritual aspirations of the poet and a deep sense of hope, reflected in love lyrics poet.

Philosophical poetry of Fet

F criticized Hegel. Denied materialism. He took Kant’s ideas as a basis and denied the immortality of a being. Objectification is the embodiment of an idea in real world. Philosophy as art. Any achievement ultimately disappoints => doom to suffering. I accepted the idea that there is no boundary between reality and dreams. At one time, F was afraid of death, which affected the F-man, but not the F-poet. I followed Schopenhauer: a person comes into the world to suffer, because the world is an illusion. In Fet we see the motive of overcoming suffering. The idea of ​​intuitive art also turned out to be very close to Fet. The aesthetic views of Shopra were very close, who attached great importance to art as the only disinterested, free from serving the will and based on intuition, on direct contemplation of the form of “cognition of the being of the world.” 1883 - aged At 63 years old, he gave the title to the collection “Evening Lights”: more than 300 poems included in 5 issues. The title speaks of the sunset of life, of its evening. In the philosophical verses of “Eternal Lights,” thought is most often in the foreground. But it is also a poetic thought. “Just as poetry itself is a reproduction not of the entire object, but only of its beauty, poetic thought is only a reflection of philosophical thought and, again, a reflection of its beauty”; In the poems of this section, similar motifs and images coincide with the famous work of Schopenhauer (“The World as Will and Idea”), which Fet translated. But in Fet’s poetry there is not and is not that philosophy of pessimism; he overcame pessimism by immersing himself in the world of beauty. It is no coincidence that literary critics interpret Fetov’s worldview ambiguously: Accounting headquarters writes that behind the major sound of the fet-kh verse there is a pessimistic worldview. Rosenblum believes that Feta has very few hopelessly bitter verses, and the general mood of his lyrics ranges from enthusiastic-joyful to painfully pacified. Theme of creativity - Foch subtly felt the divine origin of the poetic gift. His poetry strives for the other world. The motif of flight becomes cross-cutting: “with one push to drive away a living boat.” The process of creativity as dedication to the will of the creator. From this point of view, we can talk about a religious-philosophical worldview. In thinking about death, the strength of his nature, that “vitality” of his, which gave him the strength to triumph over death not only aesthetically, but also psychologically, is once again reflected.

40. The book of “evening lights” by A. Fet as an artistic whole. The book combines four collections of poems by A.A. Fet (1820-1892), published under the title “Evening Lights” at the end of the poet’s life, in 1883-1891, and have not been reprinted since then. The fifth issue, prepared by the poet, but not published in print, is published in the “Additions” section . The composition and composition of this issue are hypothetically established in this publication. Article by D.D. Blagogo's "The World as Beauty", written specifically for this book, was subsequently reprinted several times. 2nd ed. contains an alphabetical index of works by A.A. Feta. This version of the name of the new collection turned out to be forever associated with the name of Fet. The name was multi-semantic, polysemantic, objective and symbolic at the same time. It was also the “evening of life,” but also that transitional hour from day to night, when the poet most joyfully felt his “lightness,” “liberation” from daytime, everyday worries. The fire was lit by a solitary man who “did not curtain his illuminated windows in the evening,” but behind each “window” of four lyrical books the endless living lights of nature and space burned. After the release of the first issue of “Evening Lights,” Strakhov wrote in a short review of it: “Evening Lights” is pure poetry, in the sense that there is no admixture of prose in either the thought, the image, or the sound itself... Not every time is given the feeling of poetry. Fet is like a stranger among us, and feels very well that he is serving a deity abandoned by the crowd." To any general reader of that time, Fet's poems were both alien and simply unknown. Critics either kept silent about his poems, or spoke about them in a dismissive and even in a rudely mocking tone. The fame of Fetov's "Evening Lights" was limited only to his circle of friends, but these were L. Tolstoy, Vl. Solovyov, Strakhov, Polonsky, Alexei Tolstoy, Tchaikovsky. The title, undoubtedly, spoke of the evening of life, its decline. But " Fet's evening "day turned out to be unusual. In the poems created at the end of the sixth, seventh and even eighth decades of the poet's life, his creative gift reached its highest peak, maintaining freshness and youthful strength. Usually the lyrics of a particular poet are divided according to thematic criteria: here are love lyrics, here are civil ones, here are poems about the poet and poetry, about nature, about the Motherland, etc. Fet’s work does not lend itself to such fragmentation.Moreover, Fet has such a peculiarity: having lived a long life, he remained outside its forward movement. Of course, his later poems differ from his earlier ones in their plasticity, in the subtlety of their craft, but it is no coincidence that he was able to collect all the poems in one collection, “Evening Lights.” Fet's early and late poems cannot be pitted against each other, because... the perception of the world remains the same. In this sense, Fet is a poet, not destroyed by time, whole from the beginning of creativity to the end. Nature - love - creativity. Here is a triangle that conditionally limits and absorbs the entire space of Fetov’s lyrics. It contains nature, observed by the loving heart of a creative person. Even more precisely: the nature around us - at the same time and together with it - the nature of the human soul. This is Fet's domain. They are small, judging them thematically. But they are endless if you see behind them all the fabulous wealth of images and motifs that fill Fet’s poetic world. Here nothing is small, and everything is important, because it has entered the human soul: from rose to dawn, from star to blade of grass. Many poems in “Evening Lights” are characterized by such assessments: “How airy it is!” (Tyutchev), “Every verse he has with wings” (Strakhov), “Light blue” (L. Tolstoy) There is so much blue and azure in the poems, epithets are so often found: airy, winged; verbs: to fly, soar, take wings, rush on a boat of air, rise to another life. Moving away from the unsatisfactory real world into the world created by art, from the fight against evil - into aesthetic contemplation - all these are features of passive romanticism. However, in the ideal world of Fet's lyrics there is nothing mystical or otherworldly. Fet believes that the eternal object of art is beauty. “Beauty is spread throughout the entire universe,” says Fet. " The whole world from beauty // From great to small." Often in his poems, the poet laments the inferiority of language as a means of communication between people, as an instrument of thought, and therefore as a material for the art of speech. During the period of "Evening Lights" this motif receives its most distinct formulations. "How poor is our language? - I want to, but I can’t. - // I can’t convey that to either friend or enemy, // What is raging in my chest like a transparent wave." (1887), “People’s words are so rude, // It’s a shame to even whisper them!” - he begins one of the poems from 1989. " Fet likes to contrast the poor "language of people" with the language of flowers - their aroma, the language of the night - moon and star - rays, the voice of the "so clearly speaking" night silence ("Incense Night, Gracious Night", 1887), the call of the Milky Way, the whisper of foliage. The poet and he himself speaks their language: he talks about his love secret to the evening dawn, to the stars trembling in the night, whispers about it to the key. To convey all the smallest transitions of human feelings and thoughts, Fet was constantly looking for new, hitherto unseen visual means. And they gave the impression of unusualness and oddities to inexperienced readers and critics. Contemporaries were amazed by such epithets of Fet as a sonorous garden, a melting violin, ruddy modesty, dead dreams, fragrant speeches. For Fet, an epithet does not so much characterize the subject as express the mood of the poet. The metaphors created by the poet are unusual. Such a metaphor as “ardor of hearts”, which is frequent in Fet, unfolds in the poem “When you read the painful lines...” (1887) into a metaphorical picture of the fire of the poet’s heart - the fire raging in his poems. The metaphorical fire is compared with the real one, but this real fire is also given in the metaphorical image of a sudden dawn in midnight darkness. The poem ends with a question that, in the sense of comparison, relates to both real and spiritual fire. “Didn’t anything whisper to you at that time: // A man burned there!” In Fet’s poems the line between direct and figurative meaning words (“Warm were the tender hands, Warm were the stars of the eyes”). Fet's poems are characterized by such poetic images: dawn, blizzard, dusk, haze, rose, nightingale, night, swing, spring, garden, stars. Fetov’s painting in a word is close to the impressionistic vision of the world. The poem “Bather” could be illustrated with sketches of bathers, so numerous in impressionist painting. A living woman appears before us. She came out of the water and, “breaking through the crystal cloak, pressed her baby’s foot into the smooth surface of the sand.” She appeared to me for a moment in all her beauty, all trembling lightly and fearfully. This is how the elastic leaves of the shy lily glow with cold on the morning dew. The impressionists sought to convey what is fleeting, elusive and inexpressible by anything other than sensations; they were inherently interested in the uniqueness of each individual moment, in those changeable moods that sunrises and sunsets, the night sky and the light of the moon inspire in a sensitive soul. These features are undoubtedly related to Fet's poetry. The harmonic moments of his poems are just that: moments. They live one day at a time, like a butterfly in poem of the same name Feta: “Right now, sparkling, I’ll spread my wings // And fly away.” For an impressive combined image of the landscape and the human soul, it was necessary to have one more important quality. Without it, figurativeness would not become expressiveness. We are talking about melody, about Fet’s musical gift, about the intonational richness of his lyrics. Someone notes in Fet a picturesque beginning, the desire to convey in words the colors, lines, forms of the outside world; others hear first of all the melodiousness of his poems, their musicality. Fet's charm lies in the fact that his painting is dissolved in music. Sound writing plays a significant role in the emergence of the musical sound of poetry. The sun sets, and the flying wind has died down, There is no trace of those clouds pierced with lights; Here, on the outskirts, a living and non-burning ray trembled, illuminating and dying out this entire steppe. (“The sun is setting and the wind has died down.” 1883) The image of a dying sunset is perfectly created by the combination of “hot sounds” “zh”, “sch”, “ch”, which are emphasized by rhyme; volatile - non-burning, cloud - ray. Fet also introduced extraordinary diversity into the rhythmic and strophic organization of the verse. It is difficult to find his poems written in the same size. How sad are the gloomy days of silent and cold autumn! With what languor and joylessness they ask into our souls. (“Autumn”. 1883) The calm regularity of the line helps create the image of a sad, gloomy autumn day. And in the poem “In the Moonlight” (1885), by contrasting short and long lines, Fet creates an almost physical sensation of the iridescent brilliance of moonlight, the transparency and mystery of what is happening. Let’s go out with you to wander in the moonlight! How long will it take to soak the soul in dark silence! Many composers turned to Fet’s work: Tchaikovsky and Taneyev, Rimsky-Korsakov and Grechaninov, Balakirev and Rachmaninov and many others. This is also a recognition of the special beauty of the sound and melody of Fet’s lyrics. As we have already noted, in Fet’s poems a feeling, an impression comes to the fore; however, the storyline remains unclear. We will find understatement in many of the poet’s poems. For example, “I won’t tell you anything...” (1885) They often write about him that, despite the ring-promise of phrases - the first and the last repeating it - the poet in him talks about everything. But it is not so. The reader, of course, understands everything, but, nevertheless, the feeling is not named, there is not a word about the attitude towards the heroine, except for the reluctance to disturb her. Why was the confession still heard? The whole point, again, is Fet’s magical musicality, that tenderness of intonation and the accuracy of conveying the state of the soul that the poet possesses. "And I hear my heart bloom." Hearing flowering means noticing the secret of the secret. Silence in this poem becomes more important than words. Turning to the love lyrics of “Evening Lights,” we notice that the author speaks in the present tense, but in reality this is only a living memory of the past, restoring it from memory in such a way as if it were happening here right now. This is the present tense, which in reality means the long past. At the age of sixty-seven, Fet wrote: I don’t need, I don’t need glimpses of happiness, I don’t need words and the look of fate, Leave and let me cry. (1887) Fet’s later poems are characterized by philosophical themes. Fet talks about the sad vulgarity of life and the way out of it into the world of beauty, about the poverty of human knowledge and ordinary prose words, about the wealth of art that overcomes time and about the poverty of art in comparison with the natural beauty of the world. But still, the main tone of Fet's poetry is major, not minor. Life is sad, art is joyful - this is Fet’s usual thought. For Fet, art is the only lasting joy in life, and it should be imbued with a feeling of joy.

In the ideal world of Fet's lyrics, in contrast to Zhukovsky, there is nothing mystical or otherworldly. Fet considers an eternal object of art

Beauty appears. But this beauty is not “message” from some otherworldly world,

This is not subjective embellishment, aesthetic poeticization

reality - it is inherent in itself. "The world in all its parts is equal

“beautiful,” says Fet. - Beauty is spread throughout the universe and, as

all the gifts of nature, influence even those who are not aware of it, like air

nourishes those who, perhaps, do not even suspect its existence. But for

It is not enough for an artist to be unconsciously influenced by beauty or

even fly in its rays. Until his eye sees her clear, albeit subtly

sounding forms, where we do not see it or only vaguely feel it - he still

not a poet... So, poetic activity, - Fet concludes, - obviously,

consists of two elements: the objective, represented by the external world, and

subjective, the poet's vigilance - this sixth sense, independent of

what other qualities of an artist? You can have all the qualities of a famous

a poet and not have his vigilance, instinct, and therefore not be a poet...

Do you see or smell in the world what Phidias, Shakespeare, saw or sensed in it?

Beethoven? "No". Go! you are not Phidias, not Shakespeare, not Beethoven, but thank

God and for that, if it is given to you to at least perceive the beauty that they for you

overheard and spied in nature" A. Fet, About the poems of F. Tyutchev,

p. 65.. All these judgments of Fet were expressed by him in one of his relatively early

of his articles from the pre-Schopenhauer period and are undoubtedly

contradictions with his deliberately paradoxically pointed “strange speeches”,

denying the existence of anything in common between poetry and reality,

asserting that “poetry is a lie and that a poet who, from the very first word

doesn't start lying without looking back - it's no good"

Romantic in pathos and method, Fet's lyrics are at the same time akin to Pushkin's "poetry of reality", representing a unique - _romantic_ - version of it. Only, speaking about Pushkin, in this phrase logical stress should be placed on each of the two words when talking about Fet - on the first of them. “Every object,” writes Fet, “has thousands of sides,” according to “an artist values ​​only one side of objects: _their beauty_, just as a mathematician values ​​their outlines or numbers” A. Fet. About the poems of F. Tyutchev, page 64.. Each subject is not only multifaceted, it is also the unity of opposites: the beautiful is fused with the ugly, terrible, cruel. The singing of nightingales pleases the ear, the colors of butterflies caress the eye. But Fet also knows something else: beautiful nightingales peck beautiful butterflies. He once wrote to Leo Tolstoy that, in addition to the mind-intellect, one can “think” with the “mind of the heart” (“...thank you very much,” Tolstoy responded warmly. “_The mind of the mind and the mind of the heart_ - this explained a lot to me”) Fet. My memoirs, part II, p. 121.. “With the mind of the mind” Fet not only recognizes, according to Darwin, the struggle for existence as a universal and immutable biological law - just as the horror of life in general is immutable for him, according to Schopenhauer - but also directly guided by it, spreading it in his practical activities on public relations. But with the “mind of the heart” he “thinks” differently: he goes for a kind of aesthetic “splitting of the atom” - breaking the unity of opposites. According to his lines lyrical creatures, continuing the age-old poetic tradition, nightingale trills sound and flow; a butterfly, which for him, the poet, is all from the same wings

Being aware of the "last words" of his contemporary natural sciences, Fet, unlike many romantic writers, say, Baratynsky, did not consider poetry, art in general and science as something hostile, mutually exclusive: On the contrary, he considered them “two twins”: “both common goal- to find the truth”, “the most intimate essence of the subject.” But between them there is a huge difference - “characteristic difference” - in the method, in the methods and techniques that they use to achieve this goal. “The essence of objects,” writes Fet, “ accessible to the human spirit from two sides. In the form of abstract immobility and in the form of its vital vibration, harmonious singing, inherent beauty... The first form is approached by an endless analysis or a series of analyses, the second is completely grasped by instant synthesis. Let us give, Fet continues, a clear, albeit somewhat rough, comparison. There are a dozen glasses in front of us. It is difficult for the eye to distinguish one from the other. Having chosen one of them, we can ask it ordinary questions: What? where? for what? etc. and if we stand on top modern science, we will get the latest answers about physical, optical and chemical properties of the glass under study, and mathematics will express its configuration as accurately as possible. But this will not end there. Ascending ever higher through an endless series of questions, we will inevitably lead science to the conscientious realization that it currently does not yet know the answer to the last question. This is not enough: since the essence of objects is hidden at an immeasurable depth, and there can be no end to the ascending series of questions, then science itself cannot but know - a priori - that it will never have to say last word... But then my glass trembled with its entire indivisible essence, trembled in a way that only it can tremble, due to the combination of all the qualities we have studied and not explored. She's all about it harmonic sound; and you just have to sing and reproduce this sound with free singing, so that the glass instantly trembles and responds with the same sound. You have undoubtedly reproduced its individual sound: all other glasses like it are silent. She alone trembles and sings..."

He feels himself to be the “high priest” of the cult of beauty (“With a gray beard, I am the high priest,” 1884). He defines his poetic work as service to the “shrine,” likening his poems to the “sacred banner” of the procession, which he raises high above the crowd (“Obrochyaik”).

In the first period of his creative path(4050s) Fet finds the ideal of perfect beauty he seeks in the recognized - under the powerful influence of the “classicism” of Goethe and Schiller - the homeland of beauty - in the art of ancient Greece and Rome.

In contrast to the scientific, Fet - we have seen - considered artistic knowledge to be synthetic, grasping an object, in all its integrity and unity, with all the senses that a person possesses, and at the same time another - "sixth" - sense, the poet's instinct, perceiving subject "from the side of beauty". Of all the arts, the art of words—poetry—opens up the greatest possibilities for such a synthetic perception and reconstruction of an object, due to the comprehensive nature of its material. And Fet uses these opportunities very widely and in his own way.

Particular sharpness and subtlety of vision of the recreated object - necessary condition for the artist-painter. “Who among those not initiated into the secret of painting sees on a young face all the rainbow colors and their subtlest combinations?

Fet asks, “and yet don’t they exist and don’t Van-Dyck and

Rembrandt doesn’t see them?”

However, he penetrated more fully and deeply into the “most mysterious secret"No Fetov's lyricism literary critic and not even a writer, but a brilliant figure in the field of, albeit related, but different art - P. I. Tchaikovsky, who considered Fet among other poets “a completely exceptional phenomenon”: “Fet in his best moments goes beyond the limits indicated by poetry and boldly takes a step into our field... this is not just a poet, rather a poet-musician, as if avoiding even such topics that are easily expressed in words"

Fet's step into the field of music was also reflected in the basic genre nature of his lyrics. Along with the traditional genres of elegies, dooms, ballads, messages, he creates new genre, which means the musical term: “melodies” (in the first issue of “Evening Lights,” the corresponding section opens with the poem “The Night Was Shining...”) He does not identify a special genre of songs and gives only two or three poems the title “Romance.” But as a poet-musician, of all genres of music, it is the romance-song genre that is especially close to him. After all, it contains the junction of music and poetry: word and sound are organically fused, the verse is not spoken, but sung.

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Beauty in the poetry of A.A. Feta

In the personality of Afanasy Fet, two absolutely different people: coarse, very grated, beaten by life a practical and inspired singer of beauty and love, tireless literally until his last breath (he died at the age of 72). Fet's lyrics are thematically extremely poor: the beauty of nature and woman's love- that's the whole topic. But what enormous power Fet achieves within these narrow limits. Here is a poem from 1883: Only in the world is there something shady Dormant maple tent. Only in the world is there something radiant A childish, pensive look. Only in the world is there something fragrant Sweet headdress. Only in the world is there this pure Parting to the left. Philosophical lyrics Feta is difficult to name. The poet’s world is very narrow, but how beautiful, full of grace. The dirt of life, the prose and evil of life never penetrated his poetry. Is he right about this? Apparently, yes, if you see poetry as art par excellence. Beauty should be the main thing in it. Fet’s nature lyrics are brilliant: “I came to you with greetings”, “Whisper. Timid breathing", "What sadness! The end of the alley”, “This morning, this joy”, “I’m waiting, overwhelmed with anxiety” and many other lyrical miniatures. They are diverse, different, each is a unique masterpiece. But there is something in common: in all of them, Fet affirms the unity, the identity of the life of nature and life human soul. And you can’t help but wonder: where is the source, where does this beauty come from? Is this the creation of the Heavenly Father? Or is the source of all this the poet himself, his ability to see, his bright soul open to beauty, every moment ready to glorify the surrounding beauty? In his poetry of nature, Fet acts as an anti-nihilist: if for Turgenev’s Bazarov “nature is not a temple, but a workshop, and man is a worker in it,” then for Fet nature is the only temple, a temple and a background, first of all, for love, a luxurious setting for the subtlest plot twists of love feelings, and secondly, a temple for inspiration, tenderness and prayer to beauty. If for Pushkin it was a manifestation of the highest fullness of life, then for Fet love is single content human existence, the only faith. He affirms this idea in his poems with such force that it makes one doubt whether he is a pagan. With him, nature itself loves - not together, but instead of a person (“In the Invisible Haze”). Fet is attracted by elusive, mysterious and quite clear sensations inspired by nature, love, and the contemplation of beauty, which seems to be dissolved in the air, but which nevertheless quite realistically subjugates the soul to its power. Fet is a poet of immediate, prior to any knowledge of existing experiences. Fet's lyrics do not tolerate rationality; they express what is hidden in the soul, in its relationship to the world. What Fet valued most in art was the living naturalness of the heart’s desires, in which unexpectedly, without even suspecting it, the whole person is revealed. Therefore, Fet goes into the sphere of fluid, unsteady, mobile experiences. The desire to express the “inexpressible” through an instant lyrical outburst, to inspire the reader with the mood that has gripped the poet’s neck, is one of the fundamental properties of Fet’s poetry. The lyrical experience in this case cannot be long, and Fet, as a rule, creates short poems of two, three or four stanzas. Comprehending beauty and perpetuating it, Fet goes beyond the boundaries of the objective meaning of the word and unusually skillfully manages what is contained in the word , speech, verse, stanza with wealth. Fet strains hearing, sight and smell in order to appeal to a person’s sensual, emotional abilities (“look...”, “hear...”) and activates them to the utmost. Alternating colors and sounds (“From the peaks sliding to the peaks. / The wind creeps through the heights of the forest. / Do you hear neighing in the valleys? / That the herd is trotting"), the poet overcomes the apparent dispersion of signs. This partly explains the synchronicity of contemplation and its expression that is obvious in Fet, conveying the illusion of the immediate authenticity of what is happening, as if before our eyes, now. Fet is all in the present, he is in literally the words “stops the moment,” but contains the whole world in its objective and sensory richness. Fetov's lyricism, with its desire for a holistic reproduction of existence with all its colors and polyphony, encourages the poet to merge pictorial, plastic and musical images. Fet appreciates sound and color, plasticity and aroma. But it imitates not sounds, not melodies, not rhythms, but the musical essence of the world, musical being. With subtle, unobtrusive strokes, Fet establishes a kinship between nature and man. On the one hand, there is sweetness and tranquility (“Quiet under the forest canopy...”), and on the other, anxiety (“Crying, the mosquito will sing...”, “It’s like a beetle broke a string, flying into a spruce...”). Finally, the whole picture is a recreation of youthful love (“I called my friend hoarsely. There is a corncrake right there at my feet,” “The young bushes are sleeping...”). And now all the visible and audible signs are summarized in a new sensual image (“Oh, how it smelled like spring!..”) and intertwined with the appearance of the beloved: « It's probably you! Thus, A.A. Fet is rightfully considered one of the most piercing poets of Russian nature. Many of his works are precisely descriptions of its exciting beauty. Which unusual words He knew how to find a way for the familiar picture of the night, a stream, a blade of grass to turn into a state of mind, into a mood, a memory, an experience: “The night shone. The garden was full of moonlight. The rays lay at our feet..." or: Wonderful picture How dear you are to me: White Plain, Full moon, Light of the high heavens And shining snow And distant sleighs Lonely running. In conclusion, I would like to analyze the poet’s poem “Dawn bids farewell to the earth...”. At first glance, this poem seems completely simple, dim, and calm. But this is exactly what you immediately think about: what is its simplicity? Why, despite everyday life, do you return to it again? How does unpretentiousness turn into attractiveness? The author allows us to see a “piece of the evening” through the eyes of the narrator: Dawn says goodbye to the earth, Steam lies at the bottom of the valleys, I look at the forest covered in darkness, And to the lights of its peaks. And we see in high clear sky the bright scarlet reflection of the setting sun, we turn our gaze downward - there the darkness of the earth is concealed by a light soft veil of foggy steam haze. Contrast of light and darkness, color and space, brightness and mutedness: “the dawn says goodbye to the earth.” Forest... The forest, of course, is deciduous: there are lindens, maples, rowan trees, birches, aspens - all those trees whose foliage becomes bright in the fall. That’s why the “lights of its peaks” are striking: yellow, scarlet, brown-crimson, glowing and glowing in the rays of the sunset. This means it is an autumn, September evening. It’s still warm, but the coolness is somewhere very close, you want to shrug your shoulders chillily. The forest has already plunged into darkness, no birds can be heard, mysterious rustles and smells make you wary, and... How imperceptibly they go out The rays go out in the end! With what bliss they bathe in them The trees are their lush crown! The trees here are living, thinking, feeling creatures; they say goodbye to the light of day, to the warmth of summer, to the softness and heaviness of foliage. It’s very nice: to be young, slim and strong, to caress each of your leaves. elastic waves wind, and “with such bliss”, with pleasure, with pleasure to bathe in the rays of the evening dawn “your magnificent crown”! But the trees know that soon, soon this will end, and we must have time to enjoy life: the splendor of the crown, the singing of forest birds, sunrises, sunsets, sun and rain... And more and more mysterious, more immeasurable Their shadow grows, grows like a dream: How subtle at the dawn of evening Their light essay is exalted! The observer’s gaze slid up and down: “heaven-earth”, and now there was also a feeling of depth and space, "the shadow grows" and the picture becomes three-dimensional, whole, alive. And how beautiful, charming and unique are the delicate, light, lacy outlines of clumps of trees on the light fawn-blue screen of the sky. The rays went out, the forest darkened, the color picture disappeared and now the photograph has turned into a daguerreotype. And on the ground, with elongated cartoon lines, the pattern is repeated, distorted, but recognizable and beautiful in its own way. The subtlest vibrations and moods of the human soul are captured and conveyed by this simple, familiar picture in the same simple and familiar words. As if sensing a double life And she is doubly fanned, - And they feel their native land, And they ask for the sky. Trees are amazing creatures. They are immovably attached by their roots to one place where they drink the juices of mother earth. But they can move branches, leaves, their whole body in the ocean of air where they live. It is extremely interesting to watch the movement of tall trees in the forest when you look at them from below for a long time. Arises absolute feeling that they communicate with each other, understand each other; they sway, rustle, listen, answer, nod in agreement or negatively, indignantly wave their branches like hands. Maybe they see us? can they think? feel? be in love? They - like us - are born, live, grow, eat, breathe, reproduce, get sick, die, they have enemies and friends. But how often do we think about this? A.A. Fet undoubtedly loved nature, knew a lot about it, knew how to notice and enjoy the celebration of life, although “nothing human was alien to him.” Contemporaries characterized him as a practical person, which did not prevent him from capturing the “thrill of life” and generously sharing it with his reader. It is surprising that in the poem “Dawn bids farewell to the earth...” not a word was said about the time of year, nor about sounds, colors, smells, nor about weather or temperature, but you see, hear, feel all this as if you were personally there. the narrator's place. The author’s language is so simple, understandable and close to everyday speech that it seems: “Yes, I could easily tell it like that myself.” Yes, it’s simple, like everything ingenious. The poem did not reveal to us anything new or unknown; it sought to attract the attention and imagination of the reader (spectator, listener) to what he often sees, but does not notice, feels, but is not aware of these feelings. “Stop, just a moment, you’re beautiful!” But at the same time, Afanasy Afanasyevich does not consider it his personal merit that he can tell us about the miracle of the moment: “The poet is embarrassed when you marvel at his rich imagination. Not me, my friend, but God's peace rich..."

Beauty in the poetry of A.A. Feta

In the personality of Afanasy Fet, two completely different people surprisingly came together: a coarse, very worn, life-beaten practitioner and an inspired, tireless literally until his last breath (he died at the age of 72) singer of beauty and love.

Fet's lyrics are thematically extremely poor: the beauty of nature and women's love - that's the whole theme. But what enormous power Fet achieves within these narrow limits. Here is a poem from 1883:

Only in the world is there something shady

Dormant maple tent.

^ Only in the world is there something radiant

A childish, pensive look.

Only in the world is there something fragrant

Sweet headdress.

Only in the world is there this pure

Parting to the left.

It’s difficult to call Fet’s lyrics philosophical. The poet’s world is very narrow, but how beautiful, full of grace. The dirt of life, the prose and evil of life never penetrated his poetry. Is he right about this? Apparently, yes, if you see poetry as art par excellence. Beauty should be the main thing in it.

Fet’s nature lyrics are brilliant: “I came to you with greetings”, “Whisper. Timid breathing”, “What sadness! The end of the alley”, “This morning, this joy”, “I’m waiting, overwhelmed with anxiety” and many other lyrical miniatures. They are diverse, different, each is a unique masterpiece. But there is something in common: in all of them, Fet affirms the unity, the identity of the life of nature and the life of the human soul. And you can’t help but wonder: where is the source, where does this beauty come from? Is this the creation of the Heavenly Father? Or is the source of all this the poet himself, his ability to see, his bright soul open to beauty, every moment ready to glorify the surrounding beauty?

In his poetry of nature, Fet acts as an anti-nihilist: if for Turgenev’s Bazarov “nature is not a temple, but a workshop, and man is a worker in it,” then for Fet nature is the only temple, a temple and a background, first of all, for love, a luxurious setting for the subtlest plot twists of love feelings, and secondly, a temple for inspiration, tenderness and prayer to beauty.

If for Pushkin it was a manifestation of the highest fullness of life, then for Fet love is the only content of human existence, the only faith. He affirms this idea in his poems with such force that it makes one doubt whether he is a pagan. With him, nature itself loves - not together, but instead of a person (“In the Invisible Haze”).

Fet is attracted by elusive, mysterious and quite clear sensations inspired by nature, love, and the contemplation of beauty, which seems to be dissolved in the air, but which nevertheless quite realistically subjugates the soul to its power. Fet is a poet of immediate, prior to any knowledge of existing experiences. Fet's lyrics do not tolerate rationality; they express what is hidden in the soul, in its relationship to the world. What Fet valued most in art was the living naturalness of the heart’s desires, in which unexpectedly, without suspecting it, the whole person is revealed. Therefore, Fet goes into the sphere of fluid, unsteady, mobile experiences.

The desire to express the “inexpressible” through an instant lyrical flash, to inspire the reader with the mood that gripped the poet is one of the fundamental properties of Fet’s poetry. The lyrical experience in this case cannot be long, and Fet, as a rule, creates short poems of two, three or four stanzas. Comprehending beauty and perpetuating it, Fet goes beyond the boundaries of the objective meaning of the word and unusually skillfully manages what is inherent in the word, speech , verse, stanza with wealth.

Fet strains hearing, sight and smell in order to appeal to a person’s sensual, emotional abilities (“look...”, “hear...”) and activates them to the utmost. By alternating colors and sounds (“Sliding from the peaks to the peaks. / The wind creeps through the forest heights. / Do you hear neighing in the valleys? / That herd is trotting”), the poet overcomes the apparent scattering of signs. This partly explains the synchronicity of contemplation and its expression that is obvious in Fet, conveying the illusion of the immediate authenticity of what is happening, as if before our eyes, now. Fet is all in the present, he literally “stops the moment,” but contains the whole world in it in its objective and sensory richness.

Fetov's lyricism, with its desire for a holistic reproduction of existence with all its colors and polyphony, encourages the poet to merge pictorial, plastic and musical images. Fet appreciates sound and color, plasticity and aroma. But it imitates not sounds, not melodies, not rhythms, but the musical essence of the world, musical being. With subtle, unobtrusive strokes, Fet establishes a kinship between nature and man. On the one hand, there is sweetness and tranquility (“Quiet under the forest canopy...”), and on the other, anxiety (“Crying, the mosquito will sing...”, “It’s like a beetle broke a string, flying into a spruce...”). Finally, the whole picture is a recreation of youthful love (“I called my friend hoarsely. There is a corncrake right there at my feet,” “The young bushes are sleeping...”). And now all the visible and audible signs are summarized in a new sensual image (“Oh, how it smelled like spring!..”) and intertwined with the appearance of the beloved: “It must be you!”

Thus, A.A. Fet is rightfully considered one of the most piercing poets of Russian nature. Many of his works are precisely descriptions of its exciting beauty. What unusual words could he find so that the usual picture of the night, a stream, a blade of grass would turn into a state of mind, into a mood, a memory, an experience: “The night shone. The garden was full of moonlight. The rays lay at our feet..." or:

^ Wonderful picture,

How dear you are to me:

White plain,

Full moon,

Light of the high heavens

And shining snow

And distant sleighs

Lonely running.

In conclusion, I would like to analyze the poet’s poem “Dawn bids farewell to the earth...”. At first glance, this poem seems completely simple, dim, and calm. But this is exactly what you immediately think about: what is its simplicity? Why, despite everyday life, do you return to it again? How does unpretentiousness turn into attractiveness?

^ Dawn says goodbye to the earth,

Steam lies at the bottom of the valleys,

I look at the forest covered in darkness,

And to the lights of its peaks.

And we see a bright scarlet reflection of the setting sun in the high clear sky, we turn our gaze down - there the darkness of the earth is hidden by a light soft veil of foggy steam haze. Contrast of light and darkness, color and space, brightness and mutedness: “the dawn says goodbye to the earth.”

Forest... The forest, of course, is deciduous: there are lindens, maples, rowan trees, birches, aspens - all those trees whose foliage becomes bright in the fall. That’s why the “lights of its peaks” are striking: yellow, scarlet, brown-crimson, glowing and glowing in the rays of the sunset.

This means it is an autumn, September evening. It’s still warm, but the coolness is somewhere very close, you want to shrug your shoulders chillily. The forest has already plunged into darkness, no birds can be heard, mysterious rustles and smells make you wary, and...

^ How they go out imperceptibly

The rays go out in the end!

With what bliss they bathe in them

The trees are their lush crown!

The trees here are living, thinking, feeling creatures; they say goodbye to the light of day, to the warmth of summer, to the softness and heaviness of foliage. It is very pleasant: to be young, slender and strong, to caress each of your leaves with elastic waves of the wind, and “with such bliss,” with pleasure, with pleasure, to bathe “your magnificent crown” in the rays of the evening dawn! But the trees know that soon, soon this will end, and we must have time to enjoy life: the splendor of the crown, the singing of forest birds, sunrises, sunsets, sun and rain...

^ And more and more mysterious, more immeasurable

Their shadow grows, grows like a dream:

How subtle at the dawn of evening

Their light essay is exalted!

The observer’s gaze slid up and down: “sky-earth”, and now there is also a feeling of depth and space, “the shadow grows”, and the picture becomes three-dimensional, whole, alive. And how beautiful, charming and unique are the delicate, light, lacy outlines of clumps of trees on the light fawn-blue screen of the sky. The rays went out, the forest darkened, the color picture disappeared and now the photograph has turned into a daguerreotype. And on the ground, with elongated cartoon lines, the pattern is repeated, distorted, but recognizable and beautiful in its own way.

The subtlest vibrations and moods of the human soul are captured and conveyed by this simple, familiar picture in the same simple and familiar words.

^ As if sensing a double life

And she is doubly fanned, -

And they feel their native land,

And they ask for the sky.

Trees are amazing creatures. They are immovably attached by their roots to one place where they drink the juices of mother earth. But they can move branches, leaves, their whole body in the ocean of air where they live. It is extremely interesting to watch the movement of tall trees in the forest when you look at them from below for a long time. There is an absolute feeling that they communicate with each other, understand each other; they sway, rustle, listen, answer, nod in agreement or negatively, indignantly wave their branches like hands. Maybe they see us? can they think? feel? be in love? They - like us - are born, live, grow, eat, breathe, reproduce, get sick, die, they have enemies and friends. But how often do we think about this?

A.A. Fet undoubtedly loved nature, knew a lot about it, knew how to notice and enjoy the celebration of life, although “nothing human was alien to him.” Contemporaries characterized him as a practical person, which did not prevent him from capturing the “thrill of life” and generously sharing it with his reader.

It is surprising that in the poem “Dawn bids farewell to the earth...” not a word was said about the time of year, nor about sounds, colors, smells, nor about weather or temperature, but you see, hear, feel all this as if you were personally there. the narrator's place. The author’s language is so simple, understandable and close to everyday speech that it seems: “Yes, I could easily tell it like that myself.” Yes, it’s simple, like everything ingenious. The poem did not reveal to us anything new or unknown; it sought to attract the attention and imagination of the reader (spectator, listener) to what he often sees, but does not notice, feels, but is not aware of these feelings.

“Stop, just a moment, you’re beautiful!” But at the same time, Afanasy Afanasyevich does not consider it his personal merit that he can tell us about the miracle of the moment: “The poet is embarrassed when you marvel at his rich imagination. It’s not me, my friend, but God’s world that is rich...”

LIST OF REFERENCES USED:

"How will our word respond..." Selected Lyrics Russian poets. – M.: Pravda, 1986.

Korovin V.I. Russian poetry XIX century. – M.: Knowledge, 1983.

Revyakin A.I. Russian history literature of the 19th century century. First half. – M.: Education, 1981.