Read the work of Mumu. The creative history of the creation of the story “Mumu

Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev Mumu Astrel: AST; M.; 2008 ISBN 978-5-17-016131-7, 978-5-271-04935-4 Abstract The story “Mumu” ​​was written by I.S. Turgenev (1818–1883) in the spring of 1852. It was based on real events. A similar incident occurred with the serf of Turgenev’s mother Varvara Petrovna, the mute Andrei. True, Andrei, unlike Gerasim, did not go to the village, but continued to serve his mistress until the end of her days.

I. S. Turgenev. "Mumu" Contents 2

I. S. Turgenev. “Mumu” ​​Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev Mumu In one of the remote streets of Moscow, in a gray house with white columns, a mezzanine1 and a crooked balcony, there once lived a lady, a widow, surrounded by numerous servants.2 Her sons served in St. Petersburg, her daughters got married; She rarely went out and lived out the last years of her stingy and bored old age in solitude. Her day, joyless and stormy, has long passed; but her evening was blacker than night. Of all her servants, the most remarkable person was the janitor Gerasim, a man twelve inches tall, built like a hero and deaf-mute from birth. The lady took him from the village, where he lived alone, in a small hut, separately from his brothers, and was considered perhaps the most serviceable draft man.4 Gifted with extraordinary strength, he worked for four - the work was in his hands, and it was fun look at him when he was either plowing and, leaning his huge palms on the plow, it seemed, alone, without the help of a horse, he was tearing into the elastic breast of the earth, or on Peter’s Day he acted so crushingly with his scythe that it would be enough to sweep away a young birch forest with down with the roots, or he deftly and non-stop threshed with a three-yard flail, and, like a lever, the elongated and hard muscles of his shoulders lowered and rose. 5 The constant silence gave solemn importance to his tireless work. He was a nice man, and if it weren’t for his misfortune, any girl would willingly marry him... But they brought Gerasim to Moscow, bought him boots, sewed a caftan for the summer, a sheepskin coat for the winter, gave him a broom and a shovel and assigned him janitor At first he really didn’t like his new life. Since childhood, he was accustomed to field work and rural life. Alienated by his misfortune from the community of people, he grew up dumb and powerful, like a tree growing on fertile land... Moved to the city, he did not understand what was happening to him, he was bored and perplexed, as perplexed as a young healthy bull that has just been taken from the field, where lush grass grew up to his belly, they took him, put him on a railway carriage, and now, showering his corpulent body with smoke and sparks, then with wavy steam, they are now rushing him, rushing with a knock and a squeal, and where they are rushing - God knows! Gerasim's employment in his new position seemed to him a joke after the hard work of the peasants; in half an hour everything was ready for him, and again he would stop in the middle of the yard and look, with his mouth open, at everyone passing, as if wanting to get them to resolve his mysterious situation, then suddenly he would go somewhere in the corner and, throwing the broom far away and shovel, threw himself face down on the ground and lay motionless on his chest for hours, like a captured animal. But a person gets used to everything, and Gerasim finally got used to city life. He had little to do: his whole duty was to keep the yard clean, bring a barrel of water twice a day, haul and chop wood for the kitchen and house, keep strangers out, and keep watch at night. And I must say, he diligently fulfilled his duty: there were never any wood chips or copies lying around in his yard; if, in a dirty season, a broken water nag given under his command gets stuck somewhere with a barrel, he will only move his shoulder - and not only the cart, but the horse itself will be pushed out of place; whether he starts chopping wood, an ax so 1 Mezzanine - the upper mezzanine of a house. 2 The servants are all the servants in the manor's house. 3 A man twelve inches tall - two arshins and twelve inches tall, almost two meters.) 4 A draft man is a serf peasant who received an allotment of land from his landowner, for which he had to cultivate the landowner’s fields and pay him taxes. 5 Shoulders – An ancient form of the word “shoulders”. 3

I. S. Turgenev. “Mumu” ​​and it rings like glass, and fragments and logs fly in all directions; and what about strangers, so after one night, having caught two thieves, he hit their foreheads against each other, and hit them so hard that at least don’t take them to the police afterwards, everyone in the neighborhood began to respect him very much; Even during the day, those passing by, no longer scammers at all, but simply strangers, at the sight of the formidable janitor, waved them off and shouted at him, as if he could hear their screams. With all the rest of the servants, Gerasim’s relationship was not exactly friendly - they were afraid of him - but short; he considered them his own. They communicated with him by signs, and he understood them, carried out all orders exactly, but he also knew his rights, and no one dared to sit in his place at the capital. In general, Gerasim was of a strict and serious disposition, he loved order in everything; Even the roosters didn’t dare fight in front of him, otherwise it would be a disaster! - he sees, immediately grabs you by the legs, spins him around ten times in the air like a wheel and throws you apart. There were also geese in the lady's yard; but the goose is known to be an important and sensible bird; Gerasim felt respect for them, followed them and fed them; he himself looked like a sedate gander. They gave him a closet above the kitchen; he arranged it for himself, according to his own taste, built a bed in it from oak boards on four logs - a truly heroic bed; a hundred pounds could have been put on it - it wouldn’t have bent; under the bed there was a hefty chest; in the corner there was a table of the same strong quality, and next to the table there was a chair on three legs, so strong and squat that Gerasim himself used to pick it up, drop it and grin. The closet was locked with a lock that resembled a kalach, only black; Gerasim always carried the key to this lock with him on his belt. He didn't like people to visit him. So a year passed, at the end of which a small incident happened to Gerasim. The old lady, with whom he lived as a janitor, followed ancient customs in everything and kept numerous servants: in her house there were not only laundresses, seamstresses, carpenters, tailors and seamstresses, there was even one saddler, he was also considered a veterinarian and there was a doctor for people, there was a house doctor for the mistress, and finally there was a shoemaker named Kapiton Klimov, a bitter drunkard. Klimov considered himself a being offended and not appreciated, an educated and metropolitan man, who would not live in Moscow, idle, in some remote place, and if he drank, as he himself put it, with alacrity and knocking on his chest , then I drank precisely out of grief. So one day the lady and her chief butler, Gavrila, were talking about him, a man who, judging by his yellow eyes and duck nose, fate itself seemed to have destined to be the person in charge. The lady regretted the corrupt morality of Kapiton, who had just been found somewhere on the street the day before. “Well, Gavrilo,” she suddenly spoke, “shouldn’t we marry him, what do you think?” Maybe he'll settle down. - Why not get married, sir! “It’s possible, sir,” answered Gavrilo, “and it will be very good, sir.” - Yes; But who will go for him? - Of course, sir. However, as you wish, sir. Still, he, so to speak, may be needed for something; you can't throw him out of the top ten. – It seems he likes Tatyana? Gavrilo wanted to object, but pressed his lips together. “Yes!.. let him woo Tatyana,” the lady decided, sniffing the tobacco with pleasure, “do you hear?” “I’m listening, sir,” said Gavrilo and left. 6 In the vicinity - in a circle, in the vicinity. 7 The butler is the senior servant in the house, responsible for all order in the house and for the work of all the servants. 4

I. S. Turgenev. “Mumu” ​​Returning to his room (it was in the outbuilding and was almost entirely cluttered with forged chests), Gavrilo first sent his wife out, and then sat down by the window and thought. The lady's unexpected order apparently puzzled him. Finally he stood up and ordered Capiton to be called. Kapiton appeared... But before we convey their conversation to the readers, we consider it useful to tell in a few words who this Tatiana was, whom Kapiton had to marry, and why the lady’s command confused the butler. Tatyana, who, as we said above, held the position of laundress (however, as a skilled and learned laundress, she was entrusted with only fine linen), was a woman of about twenty-eight, small, thin, blond, with moles on her left cheek. Moles on the left cheek are considered a bad omen in Rus' - a harbinger of an unhappy life... Tatyana could not boast about her fate. From early youth she was kept in a black body: she worked for two, but never saw any kindness; they dressed her poorly; she received the smallest salary; It was as if she had no relatives: some old housekeeper,8 left behind in the village due to unworthiness, was her uncle, and the other uncles were her peasants, that’s all. She was once known as a beauty, but her beauty quickly faded away. She was of a very meek disposition, or, better said, intimidated; She felt complete indifference towards herself, and was mortally afraid of others; I thought only about how to finish my work on time, never spoke to anyone, and trembled at the mere name of the lady, although she hardly knew her by sight. When Gerasim was brought from the village, she almost froze with horror at the sight of his huge figure, she tried in every possible way not to meet him, she even squinted when she happened to run past him, rushing from the house to the laundry. At first Gerasim did not pay much attention to her, then he began to chuckle when he came across her, then he began to look at her, and finally he did not take his eyes off her at all. He fell in love with her: whether it was the meek expression on her face, or the timidity of her movements - God knows! One day she was making her way through the yard, carefully lifting her mistress’s starched jacket on her outstretched fingers... someone suddenly grabbed her tightly by the elbow; She turned around and screamed: Gerasim was standing behind her. Laughing stupidly and mooing affectionately, he handed her a gingerbread cockerel with gold leaf on its tail and wings. She wanted to refuse, but he forcibly shoved the gingerbread into her hand, shook his head, walked away and, turning around, once again mumbled something very friendly to her. From that day on, he never gave her any rest: wherever she went, he was right there, coming to meet her, smiling, humming, waving his arms, suddenly pulling out a ribbon from his bosom and handing it to her, clearing away the dust in front of her with a broom. The poor girl simply didn’t know what to do or what to do. Soon the whole house learned about the mute janitor's tricks; ridicule, jokes, and cutting words rained down on Tatyana. However, not everyone dared to mock Gerasim: he didn’t like jokes, and they left her alone in front of him. The Rada is not happy, but the girl came under his protection. Like all deaf-mutes, he was very quick-witted and understood very well when they were laughing at him or her. One day at dinner, the wardrobemaid, Tatiana’s boss, began to poke her, as they say, and got her so angry that she, poor thing, didn’t know where to put her eyes and almost cried with frustration. Gerasim suddenly stood up, extended his huge hand, placed it on the wardrobemaid’s head and looked into her face with such gloomy ferocity that she bent down close to the table itself. Everyone fell silent. Gerasim picked up the spoon again and continued to slurp the cabbage soup. “Look, you deaf devil!” “Everyone muttered in a low voice, and the wardrobemaid got up and went to the maid’s room. And then another time, noticing that Kapiton, the same Kapiton who was now being discussed, was somehow getting too kind with Tatyana, Gerasim called him over with his finger, took him to the coach house and, grabbing the end of the drawbar that stood in the corner , slightly, but meaningfully 8 Keykeeper - a servant in charge of food supplies, pantry and cellar in the manor's house. 9 Castellan - here: a woman in charge of the master's linen. 5

I. S. Turgenev. “Mumu” ​​threatened him with it. Since then, no one has spoken to Tatyana. And he got away with it all. True, the wardrobemaid, as soon as she ran into the maid’s room, immediately fainted and generally acted so skillfully that on the same day she brought Gerasim’s rude act to the attention of the lady; but the whimsical old woman only laughed several times, to the extreme insult of the wardrobemaid, forced her to repeat how, they say, he bent you down with his heavy hand, and the next day she sent Gerasim a ruble. She favored him as a faithful and strong watchman. Gerasim was quite afraid of her, but still hoped for her mercy and was about to go to her asking if she would allow him to marry Tatyana. He was just waiting for a new caftan, promised to him by the butler, so that he could appear in decent form before the lady, when suddenly this same lady came up with the idea of ​​marrying Tatiana to Kapiton. The reader will now easily understand the reason for the embarrassment that seized the butler Gavrila after his conversation with his mistress. “The lady,” he thought, sitting by the window, “of course, favors Gerasim (Gavrila knew this well, and that’s why he indulged him), after all, he is a dumb creature, it’s impossible to report to the lady that Gerasim, they say, takes care of Tatyana. And finally, it’s fair, what kind of husband is he? On the other hand, as soon as this, God forgive me, devil finds out that Tatyana is being given away as Kapiton, he will break everything in the house, by all means. After all, you can’t talk to him; After all, he, the devil, I have sinned, I am a sinner, there is no way to persuade him... Really...” The appearance of Kapiton interrupted Gavrilin’s thread of thoughts. The frivolous shoemaker entered, throwing his arms back, and, cheekily leaning against the prominent corner of the wall near the door, placed his right foot crosswise in front of his left and shook his head. Here I am, they say. What do you need? Gavrilo looked at Kapiton and tapped his fingers on the window frame. Kapiton only narrowed his pewter eyes a little, but did not lower them, he even grinned slightly and ran his hand through his whitish hair, which was ruffled in all directions. Well, yes, I say, I am. What are you looking at? “Good,” said Gavrilo and paused. - Good, nothing to say! Kapiton just shrugged his shoulders. “Are you, I suppose, better?” – he thought to himself. “Well, look at yourself, well, look,” Gavrilo continued reproachfully: “well, who do you look like?” Kapiton looked calmly at his worn and tattered frock coat, his patched trousers, special attention looked at his holey boots, especially the one on the toe of which his right foot so dapperly rested, and again stared at the butler. - And what? - With? - What, sir? – Gavrilo repeated. - What, sir? You also say: what? You look like the devil, I have sinned, sinner, that’s what you look like. Kapiton blinked his eyes quickly. “Swear, swear, swear, Gavrilo Andreich,” he thought to himself. “After all, you were drunk again,” Gavrilo began, “right again?” A? Well, answer me. “Due to poor health, he was indeed exposed to alcohol,” Kapiton objected. - Due to poor health? You don't get punished enough, that's what. And in St. Petersburg you were still an apprentice... You learned a lot in your apprenticeship! Just eat bread for nothing. “In this case, Gavrila Andreich, there is only one judge for me: the Lord God himself, and no one else.” He alone knows what kind of person I am in this world and whether I truly eat bread for nothing. As for drunkenness, in this case it is not I who is to blame, but more than one comrade; he himself deceived me, and even politicized me, he left, that is, and I... 6

I. S. Turgenev. “Mumu” ​​- And you, goose, remained on the street. Oh, you crazy man! Well, that’s not the point,” continued the butler, “but this is what. The lady…” here he paused, “the lady wants you to get married.” Do you hear? They think you'll settle down by getting married. Understand? - How can you not understand, sir? - Well, yes. In my opinion, it would be better to get a good grip on you. Well, that's their business. Well? Do you agree? Kapiton grinned. – Marriage is a good thing for a person, Gavrilo Andreich; and I, for my part, with my very pleasant pleasure. “Well, yes,” Gavrilo objected and thought to himself: “There’s nothing to say, the man says carefully.” “Only this,” he continued aloud: “They’ve found a bad bride for you...” “Which one, let me be curious...” “Tatyana.” - Tatyana? And Kapiton widened his eyes and separated from the wall. - Well, why are you alarmed? Don't you like her? - Which is not to your liking, Gavrilo Andreich! She’s nothing, a worker, a quiet girl... But you know it yourself, Gavrilo Andreich, because that goblin is a steppe kikimora, because he’s behind her... “I know, brother, I know everything,” the butler interrupted him with annoyance, - Yes, after all... - For mercy’s sake, Gavrilo Andreich! After all, he will kill me, by God, he will kill me, like swatting some fly; after all, he has a hand, after all, if you please see what kind of hand he has; after all, he simply has Minin and Pozharsky’s hand. After all, he is deaf, he hits and does not hear how he hits! It’s like he’s waving his fists in a dream. And there is no way to calm him down; Why? because, you yourself know, Gavrilo Andreich, he is deaf and, in addition, stupid as a heel. After all, this is some kind of beast, an idol, Gavrilo Andreich, worse than an idol... some kind of aspen; Why should I now suffer from him? Of course, now I don’t care about everything: a man held out, endured, oiled himself like a Kolomna pot - still, I am, however, a man, and not some, in fact, insignificant pot. - I know, I know, don’t describe it... - My God! - the shoemaker continued passionately: - when will it end? when, Lord! I am a wretched man, an endless wretched man! Fate, my fate, just think! In my early years I was beaten by a German master, in the best place of my life I was beaten by my own brother, and finally, in my mature years, this is what I have achieved... “Oh, you poor soul,” said Gavrilo. – Why are you spreading the word, really! - Why, Gavrilo Andreich! It's not beatings that I'm afraid of, Gavrilo Andreich. Punish me, lord, within the walls, and give me a greeting in front of people, and I’m all among the people, but here, from whom do I have to... “Well, get out,” Gavrilo interrupted him impatiently. Kapiton turned away and trudged out. “Suppose he weren’t there,” the butler shouted after him, “do you agree?” “I express it,” Kapiton objected and left. Eloquence did not leave him even in extreme cases. The butler walked around the room several times. “Well, now call Tatyana,” he finally said. A few moments later, Tatyana entered, barely audibly, and stopped at the threshold. - What do you order, Gavrilo Andreich? – she said in a quiet voice. The butler looked at her intently. “Well,” he said, “Tanyusha, do you want to get married?” The lady has found a groom for you. 7

I. S. Turgenev. “Mumu” ​​- I’m listening, Gavrilo Andreich. And who are they appointing as my groom? – she added hesitantly. - Capiton, shoemaker. - I’m listening, sir. “He’s a frivolous person, that’s for sure.” But in this case, the lady is counting on you. - I’m listening, sir... - One problem... after all, this capercaillie, Garaska, he’s looking after you. And how did you charm this bear to you? But he will probably kill you, some kind of bear. - He will kill, Gavrilo Andreich, he will certainly kill. – He’ll kill... Well, we’ll see. How do you say: he will kill. Does he have the right to kill you, judge for yourself. - I don’t know, Gavrilo Andreich, whether he has it or not. - What a hell! After all, you didn’t promise him anything... - What do you want, sir? The butler paused and thought: “You unrequited soul!” “Well, okay,” he added: “we’ll talk to you again, but now go, Tanyusha; I see you are definitely humble. Tatyana turned, leaned lightly on the ceiling and left. “And maybe the lady will forget about this wedding tomorrow,” the butler thought, “why am I worried? We will twist this mischievous one; If anything happens, we’ll let the police know...” “Ustinya Fedorovna,” he shouted in a loud voice to his wife, “put on the samovar, my venerable one!” Tatyana did not leave the laundry room almost all that day. At first she cried, then she wiped away her tears and went back to work. Kapiton sat in the establishment until late at night with some gloomy-looking friend and told him in detail how he lived in St. Petersburg with a gentleman who would take everyone, but he was observant of the rules and, moreover, made one small mistake: took a lot away from the hops. The gloomy comrade only agreed with him; but when Kapiton finally announced that, due to one incident, he must lay hands on himself tomorrow, the gloomy comrade noticed that it was time to sleep. And they parted rudely and silently. Meanwhile, the butler's expectations did not come true. The lady was so preoccupied with the thought of Kapiton’s wedding that even at night she only talked about it with one of her companions,10 who stayed in her house only in case of insomnia and, like a night cab driver, slept during the day. When Gavrilo came to her after tea with a report, her first question was: how is our wedding going? He, of course, replied that everything was going as well as possible and that Kapiton would come to her today with a bow. Something was unwell with the lady: she had not been busy with business for long. The butler returned to his room and called a council. The matter definitely required special discussion. Tatyana did not contradict, of course, but Kapiton announced publicly that he had one head, and not two or three... Gerasim looked sternly and quickly at everyone, did not leave the maiden porch and seemed to guess that something was being planned for unkind to him. Those gathered (among them there was an old barman, nicknamed Uncle Tail, to whom everyone respectfully turned for advice, although all they heard from him was that: that’s how it is, yes; yes, yes, yes) began by saying that just in case, for safety, they locked Kapiton in a closet with a water purification machine and began to think deeply. Of course, it would have been easy to resort to force; but God forbid! there will be noise, the lady will be worried - trouble! What should I do? We thought and thought and finally came up with something. Repeatedly there was a replacement - 10 Companion - here: a hanger-on in a manor house, an impoverished noblewoman who lived out of favor from rich people. 8

I. S. Turgenev. “Mumu” ​​it is clear that Gerasim could not stand drunkards. Sitting outside the gate, he would turn away indignantly every time when some loaded man walked past him with unsteady steps and the visor of his cap on his ear. They decided to teach Tatyana so that she would pretend to be drunk and walk, staggering and swaying, past Gerasim. The poor girl did not agree for a long time, but she was persuaded; Moreover, she herself saw that otherwise she would not get rid of her admirer. She went. Kapiton was released from the closet; the matter concerned him after all. Gerasim was sitting on the nightstand by the gate and poking the ground with a shovel... People were looking at him from all corners, from under the curtains outside the windows... The trick was a success. Seeing Tatyana, he first, as usual, nodded his head with a gentle moo; then he took a closer look, dropped the shovel, jumped up, walked up to her, brought his face close to her face... She staggered even more in fear and closed her eyes... He grabbed her hand, rushed across the entire yard and, entering with her into the room where he was sitting advice, pushed her straight to Capito. Tatyana just froze... Gerasim stood, looked at her, waved his hand, grinned and walked, stepping heavily, into his closet. He didn't leave there for a whole day. Postilion11 Antipka later said that through the crack he saw that Gerasim, sitting on the bed and putting his hand to his cheek, was singing quietly, measuredly and only occasionally mooing, that is, he was swaying, closing his eyes and shaking his head, like coachmen or barge haulers when they draw out their mournful songs. Antipka felt terrified, and he moved away from the crack. When Gerasim came out of the closet the next day, no particular change could be noticed in him. He only seemed to become more gloomy and did not pay the slightest attention to Tatyana and Kapiton. That same evening, both of them, with geese under their arms, went to the lady and got married a week later. On the very day of the wedding, Gerasim did not change his behavior in any way; Only he arrived from the river without water: he once broke a barrel on the road; and at night in the stable he cleaned and rubbed his horse so diligently that it staggered like a blade of grass in the wind and swayed from foot to foot under his iron fists. All this happened in the spring. Another year passed, during which Kapiton finally became an alcoholic and, as a decidedly worthless person, was sent with a convoy to a distant village along with his wife. On the day of departure, at first he was very brave and assured that no matter where they sent him, even to where the women washed their shirts and put rollers on the sky, he would not be lost, but then he lost heart, began to complain that he was being taken to uneducated people, and Finally, he became so weak that he could not even put on his own hat; some compassionate soul pulled it over his forehead, adjusted the visor and slammed it on top. When everything was ready and the men already held the reins in their hands and were only waiting for the words: “With God!”, Gerasim came out of his closet, approached Tatyana and gave her a red paper handkerchief, which he had bought for her a year ago, as a souvenir. . Tatyana, who until that moment had endured all the vicissitudes of her life with great indifference, could not bear it, she burst into tears and, getting into the cart, kissed Gerasim three times in a Christian manner. He wanted to accompany her to the outpost and first walked next to her cart, but suddenly he stopped at Krymsky Brod, waved his hand and set off along the river. It was late in the evening. He walked quietly and looked at the water. Suddenly it seemed to him that something was floundering in the mud near the shore. He bent down and saw a small puppy, white with black spots, who, despite all his efforts, could not get out of the water; he struggled, slid and trembled with his entire wet and thin body. Gerasim looked at the unfortunate little dog, picked it up with one hand, put it in his bosom and took long steps home. He entered his closet, laid the rescued puppy on the bed, covered him with his heavy overcoat, ran first to the stable for straw, then to the kitchen 11 Postilion - coachman sitting astride the lead horse. In the old days, a master's carriage was sometimes harnessed to four to six horses in a train (in single file); they were driven by two coachmen. 9

I. S. Turgenev. “Mumu” ​​over a cup of milk. Carefully throwing back his coat and spreading out the straw, he placed the milk on the bed. The poor little dog was only three weeks old, her eyes had recently opened; one eye even seemed a little larger than the other; She did not yet know how to drink from a cup and only trembled and squinted. Gerasim lightly took her head with two fingers and bent her muzzle towards the milk. The dog suddenly began to drink greedily, snorting, shaking and choking. Gerasim looked and watched and suddenly laughed... All night he fussed with her, laid her down, dried her and finally fell asleep next to her in some kind of joyful and quiet sleep. No mother cares for her child as much as Gerasim looked after his pet. At first she was very weak, frail and ugly, but little by little she got over it and straightened out, and after eight months, thanks to the constant care of her savior, she turned into a very nice dog of the Spanish breed, with long ears, a fluffy tail in the shape of a trumpet and large expressive eyes. She became passionately attached to Gerasim and did not lag behind him a single step, she kept following him, wagging her tail. He also gave her a nickname - dumb people know that their mooing attracts the attention of others - he called her Mumu. All the people in the house loved her and also called her Mumunei. She was extremely smart, affectionate towards everyone, but she loved only Gerasim. Gerasim himself loved her madly... and it was unpleasant for him when others stroked her: he was afraid, perhaps, for her, whether he was jealous of her - God knows! She woke him up in the morning, pulling him by the floor, brought to him by the reins an old water carrier, with whom she lived in great friendship, with an important look on her face she went with him to the river, guarded his brooms and shovels, and did not let anyone near his closet. He cut a hole in his door specifically for her. And she seemed to feel that only in Gerasim’s closet she was a complete mistress, and therefore, having entered it, she immediately jumped onto the bed with a contented look. At night she did not sleep at all, but did not bark indiscriminately, like some stupid mongrel, who, sitting on her hind legs and raising her muzzle and closing her eyes, simply barks out of boredom, like that, at the stars, and usually three times in a row - no ! Mumu's thin voice was never heard in vain: either a stranger came close to the fence, or somewhere there was a suspicious noise or rustling... In a word, she was an excellent guard. True, besides her, there was also an old dog in the yard, yellow color, with brown speckles, named Volchok, but he was never let off the chain, even at night, and he himself, due to his decrepitude, did not at all demand freedom - he lay curled up in his kennel and only occasionally let out a hoarse, almost a soundless bark, which immediately stopped, as if he himself felt all its uselessness. Mumu did not go to the manor’s house and, when Gerasim carried firewood into the rooms, she always stayed back and waited impatiently for him at the porch, with her ears pricked up and her head turning first to the right, then suddenly to the left at the slightest knock at the door. So another year passed. Gerasim continued his work as a janitor and was very pleased with his fate, when suddenly one unexpected circumstance happened... namely: one fine summer day the lady with her hangers-on was walking around the living room. She was in good spirits, laughing and joking; the hangers-on laughed and joked too, but they didn’t feel much joy: they didn’t really like it in the house when the lady had a happy hour, because, firstly, she then demanded everyone’s immediate and complete sympathy and got angry if anyone her face did not shine with pleasure, and secondly, these outbursts did not last long and were usually replaced by a gloomy and sour mood. That day she somehow got up happily; on the cards she got four jacks: wish fulfillment (she always told fortunes in the morning), and the tea seemed especially tasty to her, for which the maid received verbal praise and a ten-kopeck piece of money. With a sweet smile on her wrinkled lips, the lady walked around the living room and approached the window. There was a front garden in front of the window, and in the middle flowerbed, under a rose bush, Mumu lay carefully gnawing on a bone. The lady saw her. - My God! - she suddenly exclaimed, “what kind of dog is this?” 10

I. S. Turgenev. “Mumu” ​​The hanger-on, to whom the lady addressed, rushed about, poor thing, with that melancholy anxiety that usually takes possession of a subordinate person when he still does not know well how to understand the exclamation of his boss. “I... I don’t know, sir,” she muttered, “it seems like a little...” “Oh my God!” - the lady interrupted her, - she’s a pretty little dog! Tell her to be brought. How long has he had it? How come I haven’t seen her before?.. Tell her to be brought. The hanger-on immediately fluttered into the hallway. - Man, man! - she screamed. - Bring Mumu as soon as possible! She's in the front garden. “Oh, her name is Mumu,” said the lady: “a very good name.” “Oh, very much,” the hanger-on objected. - Hurry, Stepan! Stepan, a burly guy who held the position of footman, rushed headlong into the front garden and wanted to grab Mumu, but she deftly wriggled out from under his fingers and, raising her tail, ran at full speed towards Gerasim, who at that time near the kitchen he was knocking out and shaking out a barrel, turning it over in his hands like a child’s drum. Stepan ran after her and began to catch her at the very feet of her owner; but the nimble dog did not give in to the hands of a stranger, it jumped and dodged. Gerasim looked with a grin at all this fuss; Finally, Stepan got up with annoyance and hastily explained to him with signs that the lady, they say, demands your dog to come to her. Gerasim was a little surprised, but he called Mumu, picked her up from the ground and handed her over to Stepan. Stepan brought it into the living room and placed it on the parquet floor. The lady began to call her to her in a gentle voice. Mumu, who had never been in such magnificent chambers in her life, was very frightened and rushed to the door, but, pushed away by the obliging Stepan, she trembled and pressed herself against the wall. “Mumu, Mumu, come to me, come to the lady,” said the lady, “come, silly... don’t be afraid...” “Come, come, Mumu, to the lady,” the hangers-on repeated, “come.” But Mumu looked around sadly and did not move from her place. “Bring her something to eat,” said the lady. - How stupid she is! won't come to see the lady. What is he afraid of? “They’re not used to it yet,” said one of the hangers-on in a timid and touching voice. Stepan brought a saucer of milk and placed it in front of Mumu, but Mumu didn’t even smell the milk and was still trembling and looking around as before. - Oh, what are you like! - said the lady, approaching her, bent down and wanted to stroke her, but Mumu convulsively turned her head and bared her teeth. The lady quickly withdrew her hand. There was a moment's silence. Mumu squealed weakly, as if complaining and apologizing... The lady walked away and frowned. The sudden movement of the dog startled her. - Ah! - all the hangers-on shouted at once, - did she bite you, God forbid! (Mumu has never bitten anyone in her life) - ah, ah! “Take her out,” the old woman said in a changed voice. - Bad dog! How evil she is! And, slowly turning around, she headed to her office. The hangers-on timidly looked at each other and started to follow her, but she stopped, looked at them coldly, and said: “Why is this? I’m not calling you,” and left. The hangers-on desperately waved their hands at Stepan; he picked up Mumu and quickly threw her out the door, right at Gerasim’s feet, and half an hour later a deep silence reigned in the house and the old lady sat on her sofa gloomier than a thundercloud. What trifles, just think, can sometimes upset a person! Until the evening the lady was not in a good mood, did not talk to anyone, did not play cards, and had a bad night. She got it into her head that the cologne they served her was not the one they usually served.

I. S. Turgenev. “Mumu” ​​realized that her pillow smelled of soap, and made the wardrobe maid sniff all the linen - in a word, she was worried and “hot” very much. The next morning she ordered Gavrila to be called an hour earlier than usual. “Tell me, please,” she began, as soon as he, not without some internal babbling, crossed the threshold of her office, “what kind of dog was that in our yard barking all night?” Didn't let me sleep! “A dog, sir... some kind of dog... maybe a dumb dog, sir...” he said in a not entirely firm voice. “I don’t know if it was dumb or someone else, but she didn’t let me sleep.” Yes, I’m surprised why there are so many dogs! I want to know. After all, we have a yard dog? - Of course, yes, yes. Volchok, sir. - Well, what else, what else do we need a dog for? Just start some riots. The eldest is not in the house, that's what. And what does a mute need a dog for? Who allowed him to keep dogs in my yard? Yesterday I went to the window, and she was lying in the front garden, she had brought some kind of abomination, gnawing, and I had roses planted there. The lady was silent. – So that she’s not here today... do you hear? - I’m listening, sir. - Today. Now go. I'll call you for a report later. Gavrilo left. Passing through the living room, the butler, for the sake of order, moved the bell from one table to another, secretly blew his duck nose in the hall and went out into the hall. In the hall, Stepan was sleeping on a bunk12, in the position of a killed warrior in a battle picture, 13 convulsively stretching out his bare legs from under the frock coat that served him as a blanket. The butler pushed him aside and in a low voice told him some order, to which Stepan responded with a half-yawn, half-laugh. The butler left, and Stepan jumped up, pulled on his caftan and boots, went out and stopped at the porch. Less than five minutes passed when Gerasim appeared with a huge bundle of firewood on his back, accompanied by the inseparable Mumu. (The lady ordered her bedroom and study to be heated even in the summer.) Gerasim stood sideways in front of the door, pushed it with his shoulder and burst into the house with his burden, and Mumu, as usual, remained waiting for him. Then Stepan, seizing an opportune moment, suddenly rushed at her like a kite at a chicken, crushed her with his chest to the ground, grabbed her in his arms and, without even putting on a cap, ran out with her into the yard, sat on the first cab he came across and galloped off to Okhotny row.14 There he soon found a buyer, to whom he sold her for fifty dollars, with the only condition that he keep her on a leash for at least a week, and returned immediately; but, before reaching the house, he got off the cab and, going around the yard, from the back alley, jumped over the fence into the yard: he was afraid to go through the gate, lest he meet Gerasim. However, his concern was in vain: Gerasim was no longer in the yard. Leaving the house, he immediately missed Mumu; He still didn’t remember that she would ever not wait for his return, he began to run everywhere, looking for her, calling her in his own way... he rushed into his closet, into the hayloft, jumped out into the street, back and forth... She disappeared! He turned to people, asked about her with the most desperate signs, pointing half an arshin from the ground, drew her with his hands... Some didn’t know exactly where Mumu had gone and just shook their heads, others knew and chuckled in response to him , and the butler assumed an extremely important air and began shouting at the coachmen. Then Gerasim ran away from the yard. 12 Konik - a wide, chest-shaped bench with a rising lid for sleeping. 13 Battle painting - a painting depicting a battle, battle. 14 Okhotny Ryad is one of the central streets in Moscow; Before the revolution, there was a market in Okhotny Ryad. 12

I. S. Turgenev. “Mumu” ​​It was already getting dark when he returned. From his exhausted appearance, from his unsteady gait, from his dusty clothes, one could assume that he had managed to run around half of Moscow. He stopped in front of the master's windows, looked around the porch, on which seven courtyard people were crowded, turned away and muttered again: “Mumu!” Mumu did not respond. He walked away. Everyone looked after him, but no one smiled, did not say a word... and the curious postilion Antipka told the next morning in the kitchen that the mute had been groaning all night. The whole next day Gerasim did not show up, so the coachman Potap had to go get water instead, which the coachman Potap was very dissatisfied with. The lady asked Gavrila whether her order had been carried out. Gavrilo replied that it was done. The next morning Gerasim left his closet and got to work. He came to dinner, ate and left again without bowing to anyone. His face, already lifeless, like that of all deaf-mutes, now seemed to have turned to stone. After lunch he left the yard again, but not for long, he returned and immediately went to the hayloft. The night came, moonlit, clear. Sighing heavily and constantly turning around, Gerasim lay and suddenly felt as if he were being pulled by the floor; he trembled all over, but did not raise his head, he even closed his eyes, but then they pulled him again, stronger than before; he jumped up... in front of him, with a piece of paper around her neck, Mumu was spinning. A long cry of joy burst from his silent chest; he grabbed Mumu and squeezed her in his arms; in an instant she licked his nose, eyes, mustache and beard... He stood, thought, carefully climbed down from the hay, looked around and, making sure that no one would see him, safely made his way into his closet. Gerasim had already guessed that the dog did not disappear on its own, that it must have been brought in on the orders of the lady; people explained to him with signs how his Mumu had snapped at her, and he decided to take his own measures. First he fed Mumu some bread, caressed her, put her to bed, then he began to think, and spent the whole night thinking about how best to hide her. Finally, he came up with the idea of ​​leaving her in the closet all day and only visiting her occasionally, and taking her out at night. He tightly plugged the hole in the door with his old overcoat and as soon as it was light he was already in the yard as if nothing had happened, even retaining (innocent cunning!) the former despondency on his face. It could not have occurred to the poor deaf man that Mumu would give himself away with his squealing: indeed, everyone in the house soon learned that the mute dog had returned and was locked up with him, but out of pity for him and her, and partly, perhaps, out of fear of him did not allow him to understand that they had discovered his secret. The butler scratched the back of his head and waved his hand: “Well, God bless him!” Maybe it won’t reach the lady!” But the mute had never been so zealous as on that day: he cleaned and scraped the entire yard, weeded out every last weed, with his own hands he pulled out all the pegs in the front garden fence to make sure they were strong enough, and then drove them in himself - in a word, he fussed and fussed so much that even the lady paid attention to his zeal. 15 During the day, Gerasim stealthily visited his recluse twice; when night came, he went to sleep with her in the closet, and not in the hayloft, and only in the second hour did he go out for a walk with her in the clean air. After walking around the yard with her for quite some time, he was about to return, when suddenly a rustling sound was heard behind the fence, from the side of the alley. Mumu pricked up her ears, growled, walked up to the fence, sniffed and began to bark loudly and piercingly. Some drunken man decided to nest there for the night. At this very time, the lady had just fallen asleep after a long period of “nervous excitement”: these worries always happened to her after a too hearty dinner. A sudden barking woke her up; her heart began to beat and froze. - Girls, girls! – she moaned. - Girls! The frightened girls jumped into her bedroom. 15 Zeal is diligence. 13

I. S. Turgenev. “Mumu” ​​– Ox, ox, I’m dying! – she said, waving her hands sadly. - Again, again this dog!.. Oh, send for the doctor. They want to kill me... Dog, dog again! Ox,” and she threw her head back, which should have meant fainting. They rushed to get the doctor, that is, the house doctor Khariton. This doctor, whose whole art consisted in the fact that he wore boots with soft soles, knew how to delicately take the pulse, slept fourteen hours a day, and the rest of the time he sighed and constantly treated his lady with cherry laurel drops - this doctor immediately he came running, smoked burnt feathers and, when the lady opened her eyes, immediately brought her a glass with the treasured drops on a silver tray. The lady accepted them, but immediately in a tearful voice began to complain again about the dog, about Gavrila, about her fate, about the fact that everyone had abandoned her, a poor old woman, that no one was sorry for her, that everyone wanted her dead. Meanwhile, the unfortunate Mumu continued to bark, and Gerasim tried in vain to call her away from the fence. “Here... here... again,” the lady stammered and again rolled her eyes under her forehead. The doctor whispered to the girl, she rushed into the hallway, pushed Stepan, he ran to wake up Gavrilo, Gavrilo rashly ordered the whole house to be raised. Gerasim turned around, saw flashing lights and shadows in the windows and, sensing trouble in his heart, grabbed Mumu under the arm, ran into the closet and locked himself. A few moments later, five people were banging on his door, but, feeling the resistance of the bolt, they stopped. Gavrilo came running in a terrible hurry, ordered them all to stay here until the morning and keep watch, and then he rushed into the girls’ room and through the senior companion Lyubov Lyubimovna, with whom he stole and stored tea, sugar and other groceries, ordered to report to the lady that the dog , unfortunately, she came running from somewhere again, but that tomorrow she would not be alive, and that the lady would do a favor, not be angry and calm down. The lady probably would not have calmed down so quickly, but the doctor in a hurry poured forty drops instead of twelve; The power of the cherry laurel worked - after a quarter of an hour the lady was already resting soundly and peacefully; and Gerasim lay, all pale, on his bed and tightly squeezed Mumu’s mouth. The next morning the lady woke up quite late. Gavrilo was waiting for her to awaken in order to give the order for a decisive attack on the Gerasimovo shelter, and he himself was preparing to withstand a strong thunderstorm. But there was no thunderstorm. Lying in bed, the lady ordered to call the eldest hanger-on. “Lyubov Lyubimovna,” she began in a quiet and weak voice: she sometimes liked to pretend to be a downtrodden and lonely sufferer; there is no need to say that all the people in the house then felt very awkward, - Lyubov Lyubimovna, you see what my position is; Come, my soul, to Gavrila Andreich, talk to him: is some little dog really more valuable to him than peace of mind, the very life of his mistress? “I wouldn’t want to believe it,” she added with an expression of deep feeling. “Come, my soul, be so kind as to go to Gavrila Andreich.” Lyubov Lyubimovna went to Gavrilin’s room. It is not known what their conversation was about, but after some time a whole crowd of people moved across the courtyard in the direction of Gerasim’s closet: Gavrilo stepped in front, holding his cap with his hand, although there was no wind; footmen and cooks walked around him; Uncle Tail looked out of the window and gave orders, that is, he just threw up his hands; Behind everyone, boys were jumping and making faces, half of whom were strangers. On the narrow staircase leading to the closet sat one guard; two others stood at the door, with sticks. They began to climb the stairs and occupied its entire length. Gavrilo walked up to the door, slammed his fist on it, and shouted: “Open it!” A faint bark was heard; but there was no answer. - They say open it! - he repeated. “Yes, Gavrilo Andreich,” Stepan noted from below, “after all, he is deaf and cannot hear.” 14

I. S. Turgenev. “Mumu” ​​Everyone laughed. - How to be? – Gavrilo objected from above. “And he has a hole in the door,” Stepan answered, “so you can move the stick.” Gavrilo bent down. “He plugged the hole with some kind of overcoat.” - And you push the army coat inside. Here again a dull bark was heard. “Look, see, it tells itself,” they noticed in the crowd and laughed again. Gavrilo scratched behind his ear. “No, brother,” he continued at last, “you can push the Armenian in yourself if you want.” - Well, if you please! And Stepan climbed up, took a stick, stuck his coat inside and began dangling the stick in the hole, saying: “Come out, come out!” He was still swinging the stick, when suddenly the closet door quickly swung open - all the servants immediately rolled head over heels down the stairs. Gavrilo first of all. Uncle Tail locked the window. “Well, well, well, well,” Gavrilo shouted from the yard, “look at me, look!” Gerasim stood motionless on the threshold. A crowd gathered at the foot of the stairs. Gerasim looked at all these little people in German caftans from above, his hands lightly resting on his hips; in his red peasant shirt, he seemed like some kind of giant in front of them. Gavrilo took a step forward. “Look, brother,” he said, “don’t be mischievous with me.” And he began to explain to him by signs that the lady, they say, certainly demands your dog; Give it now, they say, otherwise you will be in trouble. Gerasim looked at him, pointed to the dog, made a sign with his hand at his neck, as if tightening a noose, and looked at the butler with a questioning face. “Yes, yes,” he objected, nodding his head, “yes, certainly.” Gerasim lowered his eyes, then suddenly shook himself, again pointed at Mumu, who stood near him all the time, innocently wagging her tail and moving her ears with curiosity, repeated the sign of strangulation over his neck and significantly hit himself in the chest, as if announcing that he himself was taking take it upon yourself to destroy Mumu. “You’re deceiving me,” Gavrilo waved back at him. Gerasim looked at him, grinned contemptuously, hit himself in the chest again and slammed the door. Everyone looked at each other silently. - What does this mean? - Gavrilo began. - Has he locked himself? “Leave him, Gavrilo Andreich,” said Stepan: “he will do what he promised.” That's how he is... If he promises, it's certain. He's not like our brother. What's true is true. Yes. “Yes,” they all repeated and shook their heads. - This is true. Yes. Uncle Tail opened the window and also said “yes.” “Well, let’s see,” Gavrilo objected. – But still don’t remove the guard. Hey, Eroshka! - he added, turning to a pale man in a yellow nankeen Cossack, who was considered a gardener. - What should you do? Take a stick and sit here, and immediately run to me! Eroshka took the stick and sat down on the last step of the stairs. The crowd dispersed, except for a few curious people and boys, and Gavrilo returned home and through Lyubov Lyubimovna ordered the lady to report that everything was done, and he himself sent a postilion just in case 15

I. S. Turgenev. “Mumu” ​​to the visitor.16 The lady tied a knot in a handkerchief, poured cologne on it, sniffed it, rubbed her temples, drank some tea and, still under the influence of the cherry laurel drops, fell asleep again. An hour later, after all this alarm, the closet door opened and Gerasim appeared. He was wearing a festive caftan; he led Mumu on a string. Eroshka stepped aside and let him pass. Gerasim headed towards the gate. The boys and everyone else in the yard followed him with their eyes in silence. He didn’t even turn around, he only put on his hat on the street. Gavrilo sent the same Eroshka after him as an observer. Eroshka saw from a distance that he entered the tavern with the dog, and began to wait for him to come out. They knew Gerasim at the tavern and understood his signs. He asked for cabbage soup with meat and sat down, leaning his hands on the table. Mumu stood next to his chair, calmly looking at him with her intelligent eyes. Her fur was so shiny; it was obvious that she had recently been combed. They brought cabbage soup to Gerasim. He crumbled some bread into it, finely chopped the meat and placed the plate on the floor. Mumu began to eat with her usual politeness, barely touching the food with her muzzle; Gerasim looked at her for a long time; two heavy tears suddenly rolled out of his eyes: one fell onto the dog’s steep forehead, the other into the cabbage soup. He shaded his face with his hand. Mumu ate half a plate and walked away, licking her lips. Gerasim got up, paid for the cabbage soup and walked out, accompanied by a somewhat perplexed look from the policeman. 17 Eroshka, seeing Gerasim, jumped around the corner and, letting him pass, went after him again. Gerasim walked slowly and did not let Mumu off the rope; Having reached the corner of the street, he stopped, as if in thought, and suddenly with quick steps he went straight to the Crimean Brod. On the road, he went into the courtyard of a house to which an outbuilding was attached, and carried out two bricks under his arm. From the Crimean Brod he turned along the shore, reached a place where there were two boats with oars tied to pegs (he had already noticed them before), and jumped into one of them together with Mumu. Some lame old man came out from behind a hut erected in the corner of the garden and shouted at him. But Gerasim only nodded his head and began to row so hard, albeit against the flow of the river, that in an instant he rushed a hundred fathoms. The old man stood, stood, scratched his back, first with his left hand, then with his right hand, and returned, limping, to the hut. And Gerasim rowed and rowed. Now Moscow is left behind. Meadows, vegetable gardens, fields, groves have already stretched along the banks, and huts have appeared. There was a whiff of the village. He dropped the oars, leaned his head against Mumu, who was sitting in front of him on a dry crossbar - the bottom was flooded with water - and remained motionless, crossing his powerful arms on her back, while the boat was gradually carried back to the city by the wave. Finally, Gerasim straightened up, hurriedly, with some kind of painful anger on his face, wrapped a rope around the bricks he had taken, attached a noose, put it around Mumu’s neck, raised her over the river, last time looked at her. She looked at him trustingly and without fear and lightly waved her tail. He turned away, closed his eyes and unclenched his hands... Gerasim heard nothing - neither the quick squeal of the falling Mumu, nor the heavy splash of water; for him, the noisiest day was silent and soundless, just as not even the quietest night is silent for us, and when he opened his eyes again, the small waves were still rushing along the river, as if chasing each other, as before, splashing and They tapped on the sides of the boat, and only some wide circles scattered far back and towards the shore. Eroshka, as soon as Gerasim was out of sight, returned home and reported everything he had seen. 16 Hozhaly - a messenger, a servant of the police for various assignments. 17 Sex - a servant in a tavern. 16

I. S. Turgenev. “Mumu” ​​“Well, yes,” noted Stepan, “he will drown her.” You can be calm. If he promised anything... During the day no one saw Gerasim. He didn't have lunch at home. Evening came; Everyone gathered for dinner except him. - What a wonderful Gerasim! - the fat washerwoman squeaked. “Is it possible to get laid like that because of a dog!.. Really!..” “Yes, Gerasim was here,” Stepan suddenly exclaimed, scooping up a spoonful of porridge. - How? When? - Yes, about two hours ago. Of course. I met him at the gate; he was already walking away from here again, leaving the yard. I wanted to ask him about the dog, but he was obviously not in a good mood. Well, he pushed me; He must have just wanted to put me off, saying, don’t pester me, but he brought such an extraordinary bream to my veins, it’s so important that oh-oh-oh! – And Stepan, with an involuntary grin, shrugged and rubbed the back of his head. “Yes,” he added, “he has a hand, a gracious hand, there’s nothing to say.” Everyone laughed at Stepan and after dinner went to bed. Meanwhile, at that very time, along the T... highway, some giant was striding diligently and non-stop with a sack on his shoulders and a long stick in his hands. It was Gerasim. He hurried without looking back, hurried home, to his village, to his homeland. Having drowned poor Mumu, he ran to his closet, quickly packed some belongings into an old blanket, tied it in a knot, threw it over his shoulder, and was off. He noticed the road well even when he was being taken to Moscow; the village from which the lady took him lay only twenty-five miles from the highway. He walked along it with some kind of indestructible courage, with desperate and at the same time joyful determination. He was walking; his chest opened wide; the eyes greedily and directly rushed forward. He was in a hurry, as if his old mother was waiting for him in his homeland, as if she was calling him to her after a long wandering in a foreign land, among strangers... The summer night that had just arrived was quiet and warm; on the one hand, where the sun had set, the edge of the sky was still white and faintly blushed with the last glow of the disappearing day; on the other side a blue, gray twilight was already rising. The night went on from there. Hundreds of quails thundered all around, corncrakes called to each other... Gerasim could not hear them, nor could he hear the sensitive night whispering of the trees, past which his strong legs carried him; but he felt the familiar smell of ripening rye, which wafted from the dark fields, felt how the wind flying towards him - the wind from his homeland - gently hit his face, played in his hair and beard; I saw a whitening road in front of me - the road home, straight as an arrow; he saw countless stars in the sky, illuminating his path, and, like a lion, he stepped out strong and cheerfully, so that when the rising sun illuminated the young man who had just departed with its wet red rays, thirty-five miles lay between Moscow and him... Two days later he was already at home, in his hut, to the great amazement of the soldier who was placed there. Having prayed before the images, he immediately went to the elder. The headman was surprised at first; but the haymaking had just begun: Gerasim, as an excellent worker, was immediately given a scythe in his hands, - and he went to mow in the old-fashioned way, to mow in such a way that the peasants just got chills, looking at his sweep and rakes... And in Moscow, on the next day after Gerasim's escape, they missed him. They went to his closet, ransacked it, and told Gavrila. He came, looked, shrugged his shoulders and decided that the mute either fled or drowned along with his stupid dog. They let the police know and reported to the lady. The lady became angry, burst into tears, ordered him to be found at all costs, assured that she had never ordered the dog to be destroyed, and finally gave such a scolding to Gavrila that he just shook his head all day and said: “Well!”, while Uncle Tail did not reason with him, telling him: “Well!” Finally, news came from the village that Gerasim had arrived there. The lady calmed down somewhat; at first she gave the order immediately 17

I. S. Turgenev. “Mumu” ​​demanded that he return to Moscow, but then, however, she announced that she did not need such an ungrateful person at all. However, she herself died soon after; and her heirs had no time for Gerasim: they also dismissed the rest of her mother’s people according to their rent.18 And Gerasim still lives as a bob19 in his lonely hut; healthy and powerful as before and working for four as before and still important and dignified. But the neighbors noticed that since his return from Moscow he had completely stopped hanging out with women, didn’t even look at them, and didn’t keep a single dog. “However,” the men interpret, “it’s his luck that he doesn’t need a woman, and a dog - what does he need a dog for?” You can’t drag a thief into his yard with a donkey!” This is the rumor about the heroic strength of the mute. 18 They disbanded on quitrent - they released the servants to work, for which they had to pay the landowner a certain amount of money. 19 Bobyl is a landless, lonely poor peasant. 20 If you don’t need it, it’s not necessary. 21 Donkey – cap loop, lasso. 18

Turgenev's story "Mumu" was written in 1852. Like many other works, it was created based on real events from the life of the writer. His mother, Varvara Petrovna, was a cruel serf-owner. In his memoirs of childhood, Turgenev often recalled how his mother punished him with rods. It was from her that the image of the old landowner was written. Under her command was a deaf-mute janitor Andrei, whom she saw in a field plowing the ground and took to her estate. He had a dog Mumu, which he drowned in the river on the orders of his lady. The portrait description of Gerasim was copied from this particular janitor. He was big and strong, similar to Russian heroes. But Ivan Turgenev decided to change the ending of the story. In reality, the Mute forgave his mistress and remained to live on the estate, since he could not oppose his masters. Gerasim protests and realizes his self-esteem. He leaves his mistress's house and goes to live in the village. At that time, serf peasants could not control their own destinies. They were a thing in the hands of their masters, who could do whatever they wanted with them (sell, give, play cards, even kill). Therefore, Gerasim’s departure was a challenge to the entire system. A simple person realizes that he is free and no longer wants to obey the will of his master. “Mumu” ​​is a story in which the writer, with the help of comparisons, was able to convey the state of a village man in the city, how he was torn out of his usual habitat and how uncomfortable he was in the new environment. Born to work on the land, he was forced to do boring janitor work. Monotonous work depressed Gerasim; his heroic strength was given to him for plowing and hard peasant work. In the image of a mute janitor, the author describes the Russian people, their desire to be independent, with a heightened sense of justice and awareness of their own dignity. Gerasim was deprived of everything that was dear to him - free rural spaces, his beloved woman Tatyana. Mumu is the only joy the janitor has left. But due to an accidental misunderstanding, he has to lose her too. He carries out the will of the hostess consciously, having carefully prepared for this event - elegant clean clothes, lunch for your pet. Having gotten rid of Mumu, Gerasim crosses the line of all-consuming fear and constant dependence on the lady. He has nothing left to lose, everything that was so dear to him was taken away from him. He is no longer afraid of anything and gains freedom.

The composition of the work “Mumu” ​​is structured in such a way as to show us the growing feeling of anger and self-importance as a person. Freed from the bonds of serfdom, he changes internally. This is no longer a timid, downtrodden peasant, but a free man with self-esteem. But there was no happiness left in Gerasim’s life either. He lives out his life alone in the village, avoiding women and dogs. The text of the story “Mumu” ​​can be read in full online on our website. Here you can download the story for free.

In our literature, there are many talented writers who lived in the country at different times and eras. One of the grandiose minds of the 19th century was Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev. Many of his works have become part of history.

History of writing and publication

One of the most famous stories by I. V. Turgenev is considered to be a story called “Mumu”. He wrote this work in 1852. According to historians, the story is based on real events, which occurred in the house where Ivan Sergeevich’s mother lived in Moscow. The story itself appeared while the author was in prison (Turgenev was arrested for publishing an obituary on Gogol’s death). At that time, anyone who did not comply with censorship was subject to repression and persecution in Russia. At first they wanted to publish the story in the Moscow Collection, but it was closed for non-compliance with censorship. But Turgenev came up with another plan; “Mumu” ​​was published in 1854 in the third issue of the Sovremennik magazine. After the story was published, it was strongly criticized by the government. It was believed that readers might feel sorry for the main character. The editor-in-chief of Sovremennik magazine was even given a warning. But Turgenev brought his plan to life, and many people were able to read Mumu. Later, when trying to release a small collection of Turgenev’s works, it took a long time to obtain permission to publish “Muma” in it. But in 1856, the main censorship department finally gave its permission to print.

Plot of the book

The work “Mumu” ​​is a rather sad story about a deaf-mute man.
At the beginning of the work, the author introduces us to a fairly strong and stocky man whose name was Gerasim.

He moved from the village to Moscow and worked as a janitor for an old lady. Naturally, the main characters of the story are Gerasim and Mumu, a dog that the main character picked up on the street.

The story itself tells about the difficult life of serfs at that time. One of them was Gerasim. He, a man accustomed to hard work in the village, took a long time to get used to life in the capital and the work of a janitor. Gerasim had a lot of free time, so he tried to fulfill his duties as carefully as possible, spending more hours. Summary of “Mumu” ​​tells the reader about the difficult fate of Gerasim, who tried to love first a girl, then a dog, but everything was taken away from him. As a result, he spent the rest of his life alone.

Main characters

The main character of the story is the deaf and dumb big man Gerasim, about whom it was written earlier. In addition to him, there are many different characters in the story: the butler, the lady, the shoemaker, the laundress, and many others. Of all of them, Tatyana can be singled out. This is a girl who works as a laundress; she was about 28 years old, but she already looked like a middle-aged woman. Gerasim liked Tatyana, he gave her various gifts, even protected her from the rest of the servants. But the lady wanted to marry the girl to a court alcoholic who worked as a shoemaker. She ordered the butler to arrange everything, but he was afraid to say something to Gerasim, because in a fit of anger he could destroy the whole house.

Then he told Tatyana everything, she agreed to the wedding, but was also afraid of the main character. Together they deceived Gerasim, the girl pretended to be drunk, and our hero could not stand alcohol. This is a summary. Mumu appeared after Tatyana and Kapiton (the shoemaker) left Moscow. Gerasim was very worried about the loss of the girl he loved. But on the day of her departure, he met a little puppy, whom he took home and fell in love with, as Turgenev writes. Mumu, as our hero named his pet, grew up and became a wonderful dog that was liked by all the mongrels. But our hero was not able to stay with her for long: a year later the lady saw the dog and ordered him to be brought to her. Mumu was brought in, but when the elderly lady tried to pet her, the dog didn’t like it, she turned her head away and growled. The lady got scared and decided to destroy Gerasim’s pet.

Gerasim's story

If we talk about Gerasim what Turgenev himself writes, we can talk for a long time, so it’s easier to look at the summary of “Mumu”.

The main character of the story personifies all the common people of that time. In Russia, serfs worked hard and for pennies; the nobility did with them whatever they wanted. Gerasim is a man with a difficult life story. Op experienced a lot in life, first he was taken from his native village and placed in an unknown and hostile environment in the capital. Then he fell in love, but the situation turned against him. Further, as Turgenev wrote, Mumu, the little dog he loved so much, had to die at the whim of the old lady. Gerasim drowned her with his own hands and returned to his village. He couldn't love anyone anymore.

Meeting with Mumu

If you tell a brief summary of "Mumu", then the story seems sad and only evokes pity for the main character. Not so simple.

After the difficult loss of his beloved, our deaf and dumb man found a little happiness for himself, which over time filled the void in his huge heart. The puppy, named Mumu, grew very quickly and always obeyed Gerasim, and most importantly, he loved him very much. The meeting with the dog changed the hero’s whole life. The author showed us that even in the most difficult times, a small miracle can happen that will give meaning to life. Gerasim raised Mumu, played with her and simply lived, in a word, the dog was his world.

Tragic end

Unfortunately, Turgenev's story has a sad and even tragic ending. The lady decided to destroy Mumu because she did not allow herself to be stroked. Gerasim, who simply could not allow someone to harm his favorite, but at the same time could not disobey the owner’s order, decided to kill Mumu with his own hands. No matter how hard it was for our hero, he was able to drown the dog. He tied a rope to her neck and two bricks to it, then threw her into the water.

Over the several years spent in Moscow, Gerasim experienced both love and the bitterness of loss. All these events affected him very strongly, and after the loss of Mumu, he decided to return to his native village.

Even today, the works of Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev are studied in many schools in different countries. He was a very talented person, and the story “Mumu,” written by him in 1852, went down in literary history.



The story (short story) by I.S. Turgenev “Mumu” ​​was written in 1852, when the writer was under arrest for publishing an obituary on the death of N.V. Gogol, banned by the government.

The plot of the little story is extremely simple: the deaf-mute serf janitor Gerasim got himself a dog Mumu, and his fastidious owner - an old lady - ordered to get rid of her. Gerasim carried out the order, drowning Mumu in the river with his own hands. He refused to serve as a janitor in the lady’s house and went to the village.

For more than a century and a half, naive fifth-graders have been crying over the fate of an innocently drowned dog. Students and older schoolchildren practice their wit, playing out in every possible way the plot of Gerasim and Mumu in humorous songs and anecdotes. Officials from the Ministry of Education to this day believe that any work about animals belongs to the category of children's literature, and persistently recommend “studying” I. S. Turgenev’s “Muma” in elementary school.

For a century and a half, we have all become accustomed to considering the work of the Russian classic as just a simple story with a simple plot and a tragic ending. In Soviet times, they added to this the “anti-serfdom orientation” of the story, considering “Muma” almost random product in the writer's work. Not every elementary school teacher could explain to students why the nobleman and large landowner I.S. Turgenev undertook to expose the vices of his contemporary system.

Meanwhile, “Mumu” ​​is by no means a random “test of the pen” of a bored prisoner, not an attempt to simply “kill” time in the period between writing serious novels. The story "Mumu" is one of the most powerful, deeply sincere and largely biographical works of I.S. Turgenev. Perhaps the writer has never splashed out anything more personal and painful on paper in his entire long career. creative life. "Mumu" was not written for children at all, and its too long backstory is much more tragic than, in fact, the simple plot itself.

Heroes and prototypes

Gerasim

Any modern textbook on literature says that the story of I.S. Turgenev's "Mumu" was based on real events. This is confirmed by the memories of the writer’s contemporaries, friends, acquaintances and relatives. All of them, as one, recognized in the “old lady” Varvara Petrovna, the mother of I.S. Turgenev, and in Gerasim her serf Andrei, who served as a janitor and stoker at the manor’s house either in Moscow or on the Spasskoye-Lutovinovo estate.

One of the writer’s relatives (the daughter of his uncle - N. N. Turgenev) in her unpublished memoirs reported about Andrei: “he was a handsome man with light brown hair and blue eyes, enormous height and with the same strength, he lifted ten pounds” (Konusevich E. N. Memoirs. - GBL, f. 306, k. 3, item 13).

Information about Andrey (the prototype of Gerasim) is also contained in one of the household inventories of V. P. Turgeneva (1847), stored in the I. S. Turgenev Museum in Orel. On page 33 of this inventory it is stated that 20 arshins of “black lace” were given to “a dumb janitor for finishing a red shirt” (reported by the head of the museum’s funds, A.I. Popyatovsky). V.N. Zhitova, the half-sister of I.S. Turgenev, writes that Andrei, after the story of the drowning of the dog, continued to faithfully serve his mistress until her death.

When the old woman Turgenev died, the deaf-mute janitor did not want to remain in the service of any of the heirs, took his freedom and went to the village.

Varvara Petrovna Turgeneva, née Lutovinova (1787-1850), mother of I.S. Turgenev, was a very, very extraordinary woman for her time.

Varvara Petrovna Turgeneva

Pyotr Andreevich Lutovinov, the writer’s grandfather, died two months before the birth of his daughter Varvara. Until she was eight years old, the girl lived with her aunts in Petrovskoye. Later, her mother, Ekaterina Ivanovna Lavrova, married a second time to the nobleman Somov, a widower with two daughters. Life in someone else’s house turned out to be difficult for Varvara, and at the age of 16, after the death of her mother, she, half-naked, jumped out the window and ran away from her tyrant stepfather to her uncle Ivan Ivanovich in Spasskoye-Lutovinovo. If not for this desperate step, Varvara would probably have been destined for the bitter fate of being an unfortunate dowry, but she herself changed her fate. The rich and childless uncle, although without much joy, took his niece under his protection. He died in 1813, leaving Varvara Petrovna his entire considerable fortune. At the age of 28, the old maid Lutovinova became the richest bride in the region and was even able to unite in her hands the inheritance of numerous branches of her family. Its wealth was enormous: in the Oryol estates alone there were 5 thousand souls of serfs, and in addition to Oryol, there were also villages in the Kaluga, Tula, Tambov, and Kursk provinces. One piece of silverware in Spassky-Lutovinovo turned out to be worth 60 pounds, and the capital accumulated by Ivan Ivanovich was more than 600 thousand rubles.

Varvara Petrovna chose as her husband the one she wanted - 22-year-old handsome Sergei Nikolaevich Turgenev, a descendant of a noble but long-impoverished family. In 1815, a hussar regiment was stationed in Orel. Lieutenant Turgenev came to Spasskoye as a repairman (horse buyer), and the local landowner - an ugly but rich old maid - “bought” him for herself as an expensive toy.

However, some contemporaries assured that their marriage was happy. True, for a very short time.

I.S. Turgenev wrote about his parents, bringing them out in “First Love”:

“My father, a still young and very handsome man, married her for convenience: she was ten years older than him. My mother led a sad life: she was constantly worried, jealous...”

In fact, Varvara Petrovna did not lead any “sad” life.

Her behavior simply did not fit into the generally accepted stereotype of the behavior of women of the early 19th century. Memoirists report Turgeneva as a very extravagant, very independent lady. She was not distinguished by external beauty, her character was indeed difficult and extremely contradictory, but at the same time, in Varvara Petrovna, some researchers nevertheless considered “an intelligent, developed woman, unusually fluent in words, witty, sometimes playfully humorous, sometimes menacingly angry and always passionately loving mother". She was known as an interesting conversationalist; it is no coincidence that her circle of acquaintances included even such famous poets as V. A. Zhukovsky and I. Dmitriev.

Rich material for characterizing Varvara Turgeneva is contained in her hitherto unpublished letters and diaries. The influence of his mother on the future writer is undeniable: both the picturesque style and the love of nature passed from her to him.

Varvara Petrovna had masculine habits: she loved to ride horses, practice shooting with a carbine, went hunting with men and skillfully played billiards. Needless to say, such a woman felt like a sovereign mistress not only of her estates, but also of her family. Tormenting her weak-willed, weak-willed husband with far from unfounded jealousy and suspicion, she herself was not a faithful wife. In addition to the three sons born in marriage, Varvara Petrovna had an illegitimate daughter from the doctor A.E. Bers (father of S.A. Bers - later the wife of L.N. Tolstoy). The girl was registered as the daughter of a neighbor on the estate, Varvara Nikolaevna Bogdanovich (married to V.N. Zhitova). From birth she lived in the Turgenev house as a pupil. Varvara Petrovna loved and spoiled her “pupil” much more than her legitimate sons. Everyone in the family knew about Varenka’s true origins, but no one dared to reproach her mother for immoral behavior: “what is allowed to Jupiter is not allowed to a bull.”

In 1834 Turgeneva was widowed. At the time of her husband’s death, she was abroad and did not come to the funeral. Subsequently, the rich widow did not even bother installing a tombstone on her husband’s grave. “My father doesn’t need anything in his grave,” she assured her son Ivan. “I’m not even making a monument to avoid troubles and losses.”

As a result, the grave of I.S. Turgenev’s father was lost.

The sons - Nikolai, Ivan and Sergei - grew up as “mama’s boys” and at the same time – victims of her difficult, contradictory character.

“I have nothing to remember my childhood,” Turgenev said many years later. “Not a single bright memory. I was afraid of my mother like fire. I was punished for every trifle - in a word, they drilled me like a recruit. Rarely a day passed without rods; when I dared to ask why I was punished, my mother categorically stated: “You should know better about this, guess.”

However, Varvara Petrovna never stinted on teachers and did everything to give her sons a good European education. But when they grew up and began to be “willful,” the mother, quite naturally, did not want to come to terms with this. She loved her sons very much and sincerely believed that she had every right to control their destinies, just as she controlled the destinies of her serfs.

Her youngest son Sergei, being sick from birth, died at the age of 16. The eldest Nikolai angered his mother by marrying her maid without permission. Nikolai's military career did not work out, and for a long time he was financially dependent on the whims of his aging mother. Until the end of her life, Varvara Petrovna strictly controlled the family finances. Ivan, who lived abroad, was also completely dependent on her and was often forced to beg his mother for money. For my son’s studies in literature V.P. Turgeneva was very skeptical and even laughed at him.

In old age, Varvara Petrovna's character deteriorated even more. There were legends about the quirks of the Spassk landowner. For example, she started the custom of raising two family flags over her house - the Lutovinovs and the Turgenevs. When the flags proudly fluttered above the roof, neighbors could safely come for a visit: a gracious welcome and generous refreshments awaited them. If the flags were lowered, it meant that the hostess was not in a good mood, and Turgeneva’s house should be avoided.

This story also became widely known. Varvara Petrovna was terrified of the pathogenic bacteria cholera and ordered her servants to come up with something so that she could walk without inhaling contaminated air. The carpenter built a glass box similar to those in which they were carried from temple to temple miraculous icons. The servants successfully dragged the landowner in this box around the outskirts of Spassky-Lutovinov until some fool decided that they were carrying an icon: he put a copper penny on a stretcher in front of Varvara Petrovna. The lady became furious. The unfortunate carpenter was flogged in the stable and exiled to a distant village, and Turgeneva ordered his creation to be broken and burned.

Sometimes Varvara Petrovna showed generosity and generosity towards her loved ones: she volunteered to pay debts, wrote tender letters, etc. But generous handouts, like the often unjustified stinginess of the mother, only insulted and humiliated her adult children. One day Turgeneva wanted to give each son an estate, but she was in no hurry to formalize the deed of gift. In addition, she sold all the harvest and supplies that were stored in the village barns, so that there was nothing left for the future sowing season. The brothers refused the gift, which their mother could take from them at any moment. Outraged I.S. Turgenev shouted: “Who are you not torturing? Everyone! Who breathes freely near you? […] You can understand that we are not children, that your act is offensive to us. You are afraid to give us something, you are afraid of losing yours.” power over us. We have always been your respectful sons, but you have no faith in us, and you have no faith in anyone or anything. You only believe in your power. And what has it given you? The right to torment everyone. "

While mother was alive and in power, the life of the Turgenev brothers, by and large, was not much different from the life of serf slaves. Of course, they were not forced to sweep the yard, heat the stoves or work corvée, but otherwise there could be no talk of any freedom of personal choice.

Mu Mu

On April 26, 1842, Avdotya Ermolaevna Ivanova, a freelance seamstress, gave birth to a daughter, Pelageya, from Ivan Turgenev. The excited Turgenev reported this to Varvara Petrovna and asked for her leniency.

“You are strange,” his mother answered him affectionately, “I see no sin either on your part or on hers. This is a simple physical attraction.”

Polina Turgeneva

With or without the participation of Turgenev, Pelageya was taken from her mother, brought to Spasskoye-Lutovinovo and placed in the family of a serf washerwoman. Knowing his mother, Ivan Sergeevich could hardly count on a good attitude towards the “bastard”. However, he agreed with Varvara Petrovna’s decision and soon went abroad, where his well-known romance with Polina Viardot began.

Well, why not Gerasim, who drowned his Mumu and calmly returned to his usual village life?..

Of course, the girl had a hard time. All the servants mockingly called her “young lady,” and the laundress forced her to do hard work. Varvara Petrovna did not feel kindred feelings for her granddaughter, sometimes she ordered her to be brought into the living room and asked with feigned bewilderment: “tell me, who does this girl look like” and... sent her back to the laundress.

Ivan Sergeevich suddenly remembered his daughter when she was eight years old.

The first mention of Pelageya is found in a letter from Turgenev dated July 9 (21), 1850, addressed to Polina and her husband Louis Viardot: “... I’ll tell you what I found here - guess what? - my daughter, 8 years old, strikingly similar to me...Looking at this poor little creature [...], I felt my responsibilities towards her, and I will fulfill them - she will never know poverty, I will arrange her life as best as possible..." .

Of course, the romantic game of “ignorance” and unexpected “find” was started exclusively for Messrs. Viardot. Turgenev understood the ambiguity of the position of his illegitimate daughter in his family and in Russia in general. But while Varvara Petrovna was alive, despite all her terrible attitude towards her granddaughter, Turgenev never decided to take the girl and “arrange her life.”

In the summer of 1850 the situation changed radically. Varvara Petrovna was very ill, her days were numbered. With her death, the opportunity arose not only to place her unfortunate Pelageya-Mumu in good hands, but also to offer support to the Viardot family.

Then he writes to the Viardot couple: “Give me advice - everything that comes from you is full of kindness and such sincerity [...]. So, isn’t it true, I can count on good advice, which I will blindly follow, I tell you in advance” .

In a reply letter, Polina Viardot invited Turgenev to take the girl to Paris and raise her with her daughters.

The writer happily agreed. In 1850, Polina Turgeneva left Russia forever and settled in the house of a famous singer.

When, after many years of separation, Turgenev arrived in France, he already saw his daughter as a fourteen-year-old young lady who had almost completely forgotten the Russian language:

“My daughter makes me very happy. She has completely forgotten Russian - and I’m glad about that. She has no reason to remember the language of a country to which she will never return.”

However, Polina never settled into someone else’s family. The Viardots, essentially complete strangers to her, were not at all obliged to love their pupil, as Turgenev would have liked. They took upon themselves only the responsibilities of education, receiving considerable material rewards for this. As a result, the girl found herself hostage to difficult, largely unnatural relationships in I.S.’s family triangle. Turgenev - Louis and Pauline Viardot.

Constantly feeling her orphanhood, she was jealous of her father for Pauline Viardot, and soon began to hate not only her father’s mistress, but also everyone around her. Turgenev, blinded by his love for Viardot, did not immediately understand this. He looked for the reasons for the conflicts that arose in his daughter’s character, reproaching her for ingratitude and selfishness:

“You are touchy, vain, stubborn and secretive. You don’t like to be told the truth... You are jealous... You are distrustful...” etc.

Countess E.E. Lambert he wrote: "I saw my daughter quite a lot in Lately- and recognized her. Despite her great resemblance to me, she is a completely different nature from me: there is not a trace of artistic beginnings in her; she is very positive, gifted with common sense: she will be a good wife, a kind mother of the family, an excellent housewife - romantic, dreamy everything is alien to her: she has a lot of insight and silent observation, she will be a woman with rules and religious... She will probably be happy... She loves me passionately."

Monument to Mumu on the English Channel
in the city of Enfleur

Yes, the daughter in no way shared either the interests or personal sympathies of her famous father. The matter ended with Polina being placed in a boarding school, after which she settled separately from the Viardot family. In 1865, Polina Turgeneva got married and gave birth to two children, but the marriage was unsuccessful. Her husband Gaston Brewer soon went bankrupt, spending even the funds that were allocated by I.S. Turgenev for the maintenance of his grandchildren. On the advice of her father, Polina took the children and ran away from her husband. Almost all her life she was forced to hide in Switzerland, because... According to French law, Brewer had every right to return his wife home. I.S. Turgenev took upon himself all the costs of settling his daughter in a new place, and until the end of his life he paid her a constant maintenance. After the death of his father, P. Viardot became his legal heir. The daughter tried to challenge her rights, but lost the case, leaving her with two children without a means of support. She died in 1918 in Paris, in complete poverty.

Some other minor characters in the story "Mumu" also had their own prototypes. Thus, in the “Book for recording the malfunctions of my people...”, which was kept by V.P. Turgeneva in 1846 and 1847, there is an entry confirming that among her servants there was indeed the drunkard Kapiton: “Kapiton came to me yesterday, from He’s full of wine, it’s impossible to speak and give orders - I remained silent, it’s boring to repeat the same things.” (IRLP. R. II, op. 1, no. 452, l. 17).

V.N. Zhitova names as the prototype of Uncle Khvost, the bartender in Spassky Anton Grigorievich, who was “a man of remarkable cowardice.” And Turgenev portrayed his half-brother, paramedic P.T. Kudryashov, in the person of the old lady’s doctor, Khariton (see: Volkova T.N.V.N. Zhitova and her memoirs.).

Reaction of contemporaries

The story "Mumu" became known to contemporaries even before publication. Reading the story by the author made a very strong impression on the listeners and raised questions about the prototypes, the real basis of the work, about the reasons for the lyrical sympathy with which Turgenev surrounds his hero.

For the first time, the writer read his new story in St. Petersburg, in particular, with his distant relative A. M. Turgenev. His daughter, O. A. Turgeneva, wrote in her “Diary”:

"...AND<ван>WITH<ергеевич>brought his story “Mumu” ​​in manuscript; reading it made a very strong impression on everyone who listened to him that evening<...>The whole next day I was under the impression of this simple story. And how much depth there is in him, what sensitivity, what understanding of emotional experiences. I have never seen anything like this in other writers; even in my favorite Dickens, I don’t know anything that I could consider equal to “Mumu.” How humane one must be, a good man in order to understand and convey the experiences and torments of someone else’s soul.”

Memoirs of E. S. Ilovaiskaya (Somova) about I. S. Turgenev. - T Sat, issue. 4, p. 257 - 258.

The reading of "Mumu" also took place in Moscow, where Turgenev stayed briefly, on his way to exile - from St. Petersburg to Spasskoye. This is evidenced by E.M. Feoktistov, who on September 12 (24), 1852, wrote to Turgenev from Crimea: “... do me a favor, order to rewrite your story, which was last read to us in Moscow from Granovsky and then from Shchepkin, and send it to me here. Everyone living here is eager to read it" (IRLI, f. 166, no. 1539, l. 47 vol.).

In June 1852, Turgenev informed S. T., I. S. and K. S. Aksakov from Spassky that for the second book of the “Moscow Collection” he had a “small thing” written “under arrest”, which he was pleased with friends and himself. In conclusion, the writer pointed out: “...but, firstly, it seems to me that they won’t let her through, and secondly, don’t you think that I need to keep quiet for a while?” The manuscript of the story was sent to I. S. Aksakov, who on October 4 (16), 1852, wrote to Turgenev: “Thank you for “Muma”; I will certainly put it in the “Collection”, if only I am allowed to publish the “Collection” and if not It is forbidden to publish your works at all" (Rus Obozr, 1894, No. 8, p. 475). However, as I. S. Aksakov foresaw, the Moscow Collection (the second book) was banned by censorship on March 3 (15), 1853.

Nevertheless, the story "Mumu" was published in the third book of Nekrasov's Sovremennik for 1854. This might seem like a miracle: during the greatest intensification of government reaction, at the very end of the “dark seven years” (1848-1855), when even Nekrasov was forced to fill the pages of his Sovremennik with problem-free commercial novels, a work suddenly comes out exposing the depravity of serfdom.

In fact, there was no miracle. IN sufficiently censor V.N., “fed” by Nekrasov. Beketov, who at that time supervised Sovremennik, pretended that he did not understand the true meaning of the story about the drowning of a dog and let Mumu go to print. Meanwhile, his other colleagues caught a “forbidden” anti-serfdom theme in Turgenev’s work, which they were quick to inform Comrade Minister of Education A.S. Norov. But the St. Petersburg Censorship Committee then only slightly scolded the bribe-taker Beketov, ordering him from now on to “consider more strictly submitted articles for magazines and generally be more careful...” (Oksman Yu. G. I. S. Turgenev. Research and materials. Odessa, 1921 Issue 1, p. 54).

V.N. Beketov, as we know, did not heed this advice, and in 1863, with his connivance, N.A. Nekrasov managed to smuggle a real “time bomb” into print - N.G. Chernyshevsky’s novel “What is to be done?”

In 1856, when publishing P.V. Anenkov's "Tales and Stories" by I.S. Turgenev, difficulties again arose with permission to include the story "Mumu" in the collection. However, the Main Directorate of Censorship on May 5 (17), 1856, allowed the republication of “Mumu”, rightly judging that the prohibition of this story “could better draw the attention of the reading public to it and arouse inappropriate rumors, while its appearance in collected works would no longer produce readers of the impression that could be feared from the dissemination of this story in the magazine, with the lure of novelty" (Oksman Yu. G., op. cit., p. 55).

After the abolition of serfdom, the censors no longer saw anything “criminal” in the story “Mumu”. In addition, it was published earlier, so “Mumu” ​​was freely allowed to be included in all lifetime collections of the author’s works.

"Mumu" as assessed by critics

It is also interesting that already the first critics interpreted the meaning of I. S. Turgenev’s story “Mumu” ​​in completely different ways.

Slavophiles saw in the image of the deaf-mute Gerasim the personification of the entire Russian people. In a letter to Turgenev dated October 4 (16), 1852, I.S. Aksakov wrote:

“I don’t need to know whether this is fiction or fact, whether the janitor Gerasim really existed or not. By the janitor Gerasim something else is meant. This is the personification of the Russian people, their terrible strength and incomprehensible meekness, their withdrawal to themselves and into themselves, their silence to all requests, his moral, honest motives... He, of course, will speak over time, but now, of course, he may seem both dumb and deaf..."

Russian Review, 1894, No. 8. p. 475 - 476).

In a reply letter dated December 28, 1852 (January 9, 1853), Turgenev agreed: “You have correctly captured the idea of ​​“Mumu” ​​[...].”

There is no “anti-serfdom”, let alone revolutionary orientation in the story by I.S. and K.S. The Aksakovs did not notice. Welcoming Turgenev's appeal to depicting people's life, K. S. Aksakov pointed out in his "Review of Modern Literature" that "Mumu" and "The Inn" mark a "decisive step forward" in Turgenev's work. According to the critic, “these stories are superior to Notes of a Hunter, both in terms of a more sober, more mature and full-bodied word, and in the depth of content, especially the second. Here Mr. Turgenev treats the people with incomparably greater sympathy and understanding than before ; the author drew deeper this living water of the people. The face of Gerasim in “Mumu”, the face of Akim in “The Inn” - these are already typical, deeply significant faces, especially the second one" (Russian conversation, 1857, vol. I, book 5, section IV, p. 21).

In 1854, when “Mumu” ​​first appeared in Sovremennik, the reviewer of “Pantheon” had a very positive review, thanking the editors for publishing this “wonderful story” - “a simple story about the love of a poor deaf-mute janitor for a little dog, destroyed by an evil and capricious old woman ..." (Pantheon, 1854, vol. XIV, March, book 3, department IV, p. 19).

The critic of A. Kraevsky's "Domestic Notes" pointed to "Muma" as "an example of a wonderful finishing of a conceived idea", while finding that the plot of the story is "insignificant" (Domestic Notes, 1854, No. 4, department IV, p. 90 - 91).

B. N. Almazov wrote about “Mumu” ​​as an “unsuccessful literary work.” He believed that the plot of this story, in contrast to the previous naturalness and simplicity that distinguished Turgenev’s stories, was unnecessarily overloaded with external effects: “the incident told in it is decisively out of the range of ordinary events of human life in general and Russian life in particular.” Almazov noted the similarity of the plot of "Mumu" with the plots of some "naturalistic" French authors who filled the pages of Western magazines. The purpose of such works, according to the reviewer, was to shock the reader with something out of the ordinary: the naturalism of the scenes, the harsh tragedy of the ending, i.e. what at the end of the 20th century was called the capacious but comprehensive word “chernukha”. And although Turgenev has “many good details” relating “to the setting of the event described.” Almazov believed that they did not smooth out the “unpleasant impression that the plot makes.”

After the publication of the three-volume book “Tales and Stories of I. S. Turgenev” (St. Petersburg, 1856), several more articles about “Mumu” ​​appeared in magazines, written mostly by critics of liberal or conservative trends. Once again, critics were divided.

Some (for example, A.V. Druzhinin) considered Turgenev’s “Muma” and “The Inn” to be works “excellently told”, but representing “the interest of a smart anecdote, nothing more” (Library of Reading, 1857, No. 3, department V , p. 18).

S. S. Dudyshkin criticized the writers of the natural school in general and Turgenev in particular in “Notes of the Fatherland.” He brought “Mumu” ​​closer to “Biryuk” and other stories from “Notes of a Hunter,” as well as “Bobyl” and “Anton Goremyka” by D. V. Grigorovich. According to Dudyshkin, the writers of the natural school “took upon themselves the work of transforming economic ideas into literary ideas, presenting economic phenomena in the form of stories, novels and dramas.” In conclusion, the critic wrote that “it is impossible to make literature a servant exclusively of special social issues, as in “Notes of a Hunter” and “Mumu” ​​(Otechestvennye Zapiski, 1857, No. 4, department II, pp. 55, 62 - 63) .

Revolutionary democracy approached the assessment of the story from a completely different position. A. I. Herzen expressed his impression of reading “Mumu” ​​in a letter to Turgenev dated March 2, 1857: “The other day I read aloud “Mumu” ​​and the master’s conversation with the servant and coachman (“Conversation on the High Road”) - it’s a miracle good, and especially “Mumu”" (Herzen, vol. XXVI, p. 78).

In December of the same year, in the article “On a novel from folk life in Russia (a letter to the translator of “Rybakov”),” Herzen wrote about “Mumu”: “Turgenev<...>I wasn’t afraid to look into the stuffy closet of the courtyard, where there is only one consolation - vodka. He described to us the existence of this Russian “Uncle Tom” with such artistic skill that, having resisted double censorship, makes us shudder with rage at the sight of this severe, inhuman suffering...” (ibid., vol. XIII, p. 177) .

“Shudders of rage” at the sight of inhuman suffering, with the light hand of Herzen, and then Nekrasov and Chernyshevsky, firmly entered Russian literature of the 19th century century. Dissertation by N.G. Chernyshevsky "Aesthetic relations of art to reality" on long years has become a catechism for all writers and artists who want to make the viewer and reader constantly shudder from the “realistic” reflection of other people’s suffering in art. The prosperous majority of Russian educated society still did not have enough of their own suffering at that time.

Why did Gerasim drown Mumu?

In our opinion, the story “Mumu” ​​is one of the best, if not the best work of I.S. Turgenev. It is precisely in everyday details, which are described by the author somewhat carelessly, and sometimes completely fantastically, that it loses to some of the writer’s other short stories. Turgenev himself, perhaps, deliberately did not attach special significance to them, for the story “Mumu” ​​has nothing to do with either realistic pictures of descriptions of popular suffering, or revolutionary denunciations of serfdom.

“Mumu” ​​is one of the attempts of Turgenev the humanist to embody his own spiritual experience of what he has experienced in literature, to bring it to the reader’s judgment, perhaps to suffer through it again and at the same time free himself from it.

Taking as a basis an incident from the life of his mother’s servant, I.S. Turgenev, consciously or not, made Gerasim the character closest to the author in the story - a kind, sympathetic man, capable of perceiving the world around him in his own way and enjoying its beauty and harmony in his own way. In a word, a dumb righteous man, a blessed cripple, equally endowed with physical strength and a healthy moral nature. And this man, by order from above, kills the only living creature he loves - Mumu.

For what?

Soviet literary criticism clearly saw the killing of a dog as a reflection of the very nature of the slavish essence of the serf peasant. A slave has no right to reason, be offended, or act at his own discretion. He must follow orders. But how then can we explain the subsequent departure, in fact, the escape of the humble slave Gerasim from the master’s courtyard?

This is where the main stumbling block lies: the inconsistency of motive, consequence and main result. The ending of the story, as evidence of Gerasim's personal rebellion, completely contradicts everything that was said by the author about this character on the previous pages. It completely erases the righteousness and meekness of Gerasim, as a symbolic personification of the Russian people, deprives his image of closeness to the highest truth, which is completely inaccessible to an educated intellectual poisoned by the poison of unbelief.

In the mind of a simple serf, his mistress, the old lady, is the same mother, to rebel against whom is the same as to rebel against God, against nature itself, against higher powers, governing all life on Earth. It is we, the readers, who see in the heroine “Mumu” ​​only a grumpy, wayward old woman. And for all the surrounding characters, she is the center of their personal Universe. Turgenev showed perfectly that all life in the house revolves only around the whims of a capricious lady: all the inhabitants (the manager, servants, companions, hangers-on) are subordinate to her desires and her will.

The story of Gerasim and Mumu is in many ways reminiscent of the famous biblical story from the Old Testament about Abraham and his son Isaac. God (the old lady) orders the righteous Abraham (Gerasim) to sacrifice his only, dearly beloved son Isaac (Mumu). The righteous Abraham meekly takes his son and goes to the mountain to sacrifice him. At the last moment, the biblical God replaces Isaac with a lamb, and all ends well.

But in the story of Mumu, the all-powerful God does not cancel anything. Gerasim-Abraham sacrifices to God the one he loves. The hand of the righteous man, the servant of God and the slave of his mistress should not have wavered, and did not waver. Only faith in the lady - as the embodiment of an all-good, all-generous, just God - was shaken forever.

Gerasim's flight is reminiscent of a child's flight from parents who treated him unfairly. Offended and disillusioned, he overthrows the previous idols from the pedestal and runs wherever his eyes look.

The real janitor Andrey could not do this. He killed a creature dear to him, but did not become an apostate, he served his God (Varvara Petrovna) until the very end. This is exactly how a true righteous person should behave. True love to God above personal attachments, doubts, and resentments. Thoughts about apostasy, replacing one God with another could only arise in the head of a slave who knows for sure about the existence of other gods. This means he has freedom of choice.

The main theme of the story is spiritual slavery, poisoning the very essence human nature, is revealed by the humanist Turgenev using the example of people born as slaves. But its ending is inspired by the thoughts and feelings of a person who is constantly burdened by this slavery and wants to free himself from it. All the people who knew Turgenev considered him a completely prosperous, wealthy gentleman, a large landowner and a famous writer. Few of his contemporaries could have imagined that until he was over thirty years old, the writer lived and felt like a real slave, deprived of the opportunity to act at his own discretion even in minor details.

After the death of his mother, I.S. Turgenev received his share of the inheritance and absolute freedom of action, but all his life he behaved as if he did not know what to do with this freedom. Instead of “squeezing a slave out of himself drop by drop,” as A.P. Chekhov tried to do, Turgenev subconsciously, without realizing it, was looking for a new God, whose service would justify his own existence. But daughter Polina, abandoned by her father for the first time in Russia, found herself abandoned by him for the second time in France, in the house of people who were strangers to her. Friendship with Nekrasov and collaboration in the radical magazine Sovremennik ended in a scandal, a break, the writing of Fathers and Sons, and reassessments of everything that connected I.S. Turgenev with the fate of Russia and its long-suffering people. Love for Pauline Viardot resulted in eternal escapes and returns, life “on the edge of someone else’s nest,” supporting the former singer’s family and subsequent squabbles between relatives and Viardot’s “widow” during the division of the deceased classic’s inheritance.

A slave does not become free with the death of his master. I.S. Turgenev remained free only in his work, the main period of which fell on a difficult era of sharp ideological clashes in the socio-political life of Russia. Defending his “liberalism of the old style,” Turgenev more than once found himself between two fires, but was always extremely honest, guided when writing his works not by political conjuncture or literary fashion, but by what his heart, full of intelligent love for man, his homeland, dictated. nature, beauty and art. Perhaps it was in this that I.S. Turgenev found his new God and served him not out of fear of inevitable punishment, but only out of vocation, out of great love.

"Mumu" in world literature

By the number of translations to foreign languages, which appeared during Turgenev’s lifetime, “Mumu” ​​ranks first among the novels and short stories of the 1840s - early 1850s. Already in 1856, an abbreviated translation of the story into French, executed by Charles de Saint-Julien. The complete authorized translation of "Mumu" was published two years later in the first French collection of Turgenev's stories and stories, translated by Ks. Marmier. From this edition the first German translation of Mumu was made, carried out by Mathilde Bodenstedt and edited by Fr. Bodenstedt (her husband), who checked the translation with the Russian original. The story "Mumu" was included in all French and German editions of the collected works of I.S. Turgenev, published in Europe in the 1860-90s.

"Mumu" became the first work of Turgenev translated into Hungarian and Croatian, and in the 1860-70s as many as three appeared Czech translation stories published in Prague magazines. In 1868, the Swedish translation of “Mumu” ​​was published as a separate book in Stockholm, and by 1871 the story about a deaf-mute janitor and his dog reached America. The first translation of "Mumu" into English appeared in the USA ("Mou-mou." Lippincott's Monthly Magazin, Philadelphia, 1871, April). In 1876, also in the USA, another translation was published (“The Living Mummy” - in Scribner’s Monthly).

According to V. Rolston, the English philosopher and publicist T. Carlyle, who personally knew Turgenev and corresponded with him, stated, speaking about “Mumu”: “It seems to me that this is the most touching story I have ever read” (Foreign Criticism about Turgenev. St. Petersburg, 1884, p. 192). Later (in 1924), D. Galsworthy, in one of his articles (“Silhouettes of Six Novelists”) wrote, referring to “Mumu,” that “never through the means of art was a more exciting protest against tyrannical cruelty created” (Galsworthy J. Castles in Spain and other screeds (Leipzig, Tauchnitz, s.a., p. 179).

There is no doubt that there is an ideological and thematic similarity between the stories “Mumu” ​​and “Mademoiselle Cocotte” by Maupassant. The work of the French writer, also named after a dog, was written under the influence of Turgenev’s story, although each of the writers interprets this topic in his own way.

Elena Shirokova

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"Moo-moo" in modern folklore

Why did Gerasim drown Mumu? She would still serve him... He tied two bricks to Muma - The face of a sadist, the hands of an executioner. Muma is quietly sinking. Bubble, Mumu, Bubble Mumu... Mumu lies calmly at the bottom. End of Mume, End of Mume!

Why Gerasim drowned Mumu, I don’t understand, I don’t understand. What delirium he was in, what smoke he was in - It’s not good, it’s not wise. What kind of feelings did he feel inside when Muma was blowing bubbles? They wandered along the shore together, Trouble was already close... Mumu was attracted by the cool pond And then, and then He tied two bricks to Mumu - The eyes of a sadist, the hands of an executioner. Muma could live for a long time, raise puppies, chase geese. Why did Gerasim begin to drown her in a pond to the shame of all Russia? Since then, in any decent family the legend of Muma has always been alive. Live, but remember that one day fate will come to your house with a broom. Then whine to yourself, wag your tail - Fate is deaf, like that dumb one. Do not renounce, people, from scrip, Plague, prison, and the fate of Muma.

Rumor has it that once upon a time Gerasim was mute... In the whole world he was friends with only one Muma. He loved Tu Mumu as much as himself. But one day, loving, He U-T-O-P-I-L! Chorus: Come to the village to Gerasim! It's somewhere here, It's somewhere here, It's somewhere here! Come to the village to see Gerasim! There are no dogs there, not even cats, no one there. 2 Trouble has happened They must be separated. And then he decided: Muma would no longer live. He picked up the stone and, with a sense of guilt, tied the string straight to Muma’s neck. Chorus. 3 A guy, a famous diver, told me how Mumu heroically drowned with a song, with a pebble on her neck, and plunged into the abyss. And then at night she appeared in everyone’s dreams! Chorus. imho.ws

Why did Gerasim drown his Mu-Mu? What harm did she do to him? Why did the priest kill that dog? That poor dog only stole a bone... Why did Gerasim drown his Mu-Mu? Perhaps she didn’t let him eat either, And she just stole a bone from the table, And... poor dog! DEAD! Irina Gavrilova Poetry.ru

In the forests of the Central Russian Plain, a river flows its waters. She is like a grave, sad and like an ocean, deep. Steamboats do not rush along it and barges do not fly along it, but the muddy, gray waters keep a terrible secret. A block rests in the pool, and a twine is attached to it. Alas, this device was not invented for fishing. The dog is hanging on a noose, swollen like an airship. The legs sway with the current. Don't you feel sorry for her? Perhaps, having run away from home, in the languor of fatal love, she herself threw herself into the pool, without memory, upside down? No! The killer is a mighty fellow, Mute, but healthy as a bull, Threw the little animal into the abyss, Putting a noose under her Adam's apple. She took off like a comet, fell... She wants to swim. But even Archimedes' law is powerless to change fate. The poor dog can't come up - There's a tight noose on his throat. Black crayfish clung to her swollen belly. Shame on you, evil Gerasim, for brutally torturing Mumu! The maniac is socially dangerous and should be thrown into prison. He disappeared into his native village, wanting to confuse his tracks. The population will not give him food along the way. He runs through forests and fields, the earth burns under his feet. He runs, beaten by the rakes and pitchforks of peaceful villagers. Animal protection fighters will find the enemy without difficulty and torment mongrel dogs and wean him off forever. And even his disability will not interfere with the trial. Let him atone for his wrongdoing, Let him dig for ore in Siberia. People's grief cannot be measured. The locomotives will sound their whistles. The pioneers will go to the shore and lower a wreath onto the waves. Dawn lights up, glowing, The dawn rises over the planet. Mumu died from the villain, But the song about her will not die. imho.ws

From school essays

Gerasim and Mumu quickly found a common language.

Gerasim felt sorry for Mumu, so he decided to feed her and then drown her.

Gerasim fell in love with Mumu and swept the yard out of joy.

Gerasim put a saucer of milk on the floor and began poking his muzzle at it.

Gerasim tied a brick around his neck and swam.

Deaf and mute Gerasim did not like gossip and spoke only the truth.

Continuing the theme of Mumu in modern folklore, we are pleased to present the article almost in its entirety Anna Moiseeva in the magazine "Philologist":

Why did Gerasim drown his Mumu,

An attempt to understand the place of two Turgenev images in modern culture

Initial impressions of the work of the great Russian classic I.S. Turgenev, as a rule, are tragic, since traditionally, the very first of his many works, schoolchildren read (or, alas, listen to a friendly retelling) the sad story of the deaf-mute Gerasim and his pet, the dog Mumu. Remember? “He dropped the oars, leaned his head against Mumu, who was sitting in front of him on a dry crossbar - the bottom was flooded with water - and remained motionless, crossing his powerful arms on her back, while the boat was gradually carried back to the city by the wave. Finally, Gerasim straightened up hastily, with some kind of painful anger on his face, wrapped a rope around the bricks he had taken, attached a noose, put it around Mumu’s neck, raised her above the river, looked at her for the last time... She looked at him trustingly and without fear and wagged her tail slightly. He turned away, closed his eyes and unclenched his hands...”

Based on my own memories, I can say that grief over the untimely death of an innocent animal, as a rule, is accompanied by bewilderment: why? Well, why was it necessary to drown Mumu if Gerasim left the evil lady anyway? And no teacher’s explanations that it was impossible to immediately eradicate the slavish habit of obeying did not help: poor Gerasim’s reputation remained hopelessly tarnished.

Apparently, such a perception of the plot situation of Turgenev’s story is quite typical, since more than one generation of schoolchildren and students sang to the tune of the musical theme of the composer N. Roth for the film by F.F. Coppola " Godfather» simple song:

Why did Gerasim drown his Mumu? I don't understand, I don't understand. Why, why, Why, why, And so that there are no more problems with cleaning.

As with any folk text, there were, and probably still are, numerous variations. The exotic grammatical form “one’s own Mumu” ​​appears, and various, usually more or less cynical, answers to the question asked are given: “To discourage everyone from barking anymore,” “Well, why? / Well, because: / He wanted to live quietly alone,” “Oh, why, / Oh, why, / Turgenev took it and wrote his garbage,” “He wanted a mistress, he drowned the wrong one when he was drunk,” etc. and so on. The constant “core” of the text remains a question expressing the powerlessness of a child’s mind before the plan of a genius.

However, apparently, it is precisely the feeling of bewilderment, combined with tragic experiences that are quite serious for any normally developing child, that force one to remember this work and sometimes even cause a certain creative reaction, immediate or delayed, belated (since it is definitely not only children who compose texts “about Mu Mu"). The result of such a reaction is most often works from the field of “black humor”, perhaps since it is humor that helps to overcome various stressful situations and phobias.

Among the verbal works, in addition to the above-mentioned song, jokes about Mumu and Gerasim immediately come to mind. “And yet, Gerasim, you are not saying something,” Mumu said to the rowing owner with concentration.” “Sir, where is our dog Montmorency? – three people in the boat asked the Russian tourist Gerasim.” “Oh, granddaughter, granddaughter, and again you got everything mixed up! - old grandfather Mazai lamented, meeting Gerasim after another boat trip.” “Sir Henry Baskerville summons Sherlock Holmes and says: “Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I am afraid we no longer need your services in capturing the Hound of the Baskervilles. Any minute now, the largest specialist in this field, Mr. Gerasim, should arrive from Russia.” “Well, here we meet again, Gerasim,” the Hound of the Baskervilles smiled in a friendly manner, going out to meet Sir Henry, who had turned pale with horror.”

As is easy to see, quite often there is a play on images of literary works that are far from each other, the collision of which in one text largely determines the comic effect: Mumu - Montmorency - The Hound of the Baskervilles; Gerasim - three in the boat - grandfather Mazai - Sir Henry Baskerville. Such a game situation is, in principle, characteristic of jokes whose heroes are literary characters; it is worth recalling at least the legendary couple Natasha Rostova - Lieutenant Rzhevsky.

It is interesting that in jokes of this kind Gerasim often appears precisely as a bearer of the Russian national principle, albeit taken in its negative aspect: shocking cruelty towards refined Europeans (usually the British). At the same time, Gerasim’s behavior is not justified or explained in any way, which, in principle, is also consistent with traditional ideas about the mystery and spontaneity of the Russian soul. The lack of explanation on the part of Gerasim himself is motivated by the nature of his illness, which sometimes also becomes the subject of comic play.

Drawing by Andrey Bilzho

The textbook images of a deaf-mute giant and his little dog are reflected not only in verbal cultural texts: graphic confirmation of this thesis are the cartoons of Andrei Bilzho, known throughout the country as a wonderful doctor-“brain scientist” of the satirical television program “Itogo”, which, unfortunately, untimely ceased its work a cheerful existence. The satirical orientation is also palpable in this cycle of his works, turning Turgenev’s heroes into our contemporaries, able to easily quote the statements of politicians of the 21st century (for example, Mumu, who is drowning in a river, remembers famous saying V.V. Putin: “And they promised to wet them in the toilet...”).

It is worth recalling, for example, the wonderful Soviet cartoon “The Wolf and the Calf,” which glorifies the heroic deeds of an adopted single father. There is one curious episode when the good-natured but poorly educated Wolf, on whose stove due to some mysterious circumstances a book by I.S. Turgenev, wants to entertain the calf with a story about people like him and slips the baby a story with a supposedly “telling” title: “Mumu.” As a result, the poor thing cries bitterly and shouts “I feel sorry for the dog!” We can probably consider this episode as a satire on the policy of the domestic Ministry of Education, which believes that if images of animals appear in a work, then it can definitely be classified as literature for children, but we are more interested in other points. Once again, Turgenev's work is placed in an ironic context, oriented towards mass perception, and once again it is associated with folklore, since the entire cartoon is deliberately stylized as a Russian folk tale about animals.

There are also more striking, unusual examples of replicating the images of Mumu and Gerasim. In particular, at one time, among the philology students of Perm State University, who went to St. Petersburg for a conference, pre-diploma internships and simply for tourist purposes, the Mumu cafe on the square named after them was especially popular. Turgenev. In student and philological circles it was affectionately called “Dead Dog” or even “Our Dead Dog”, pretentiously compiling the names of the famous bohemian tavern of the early twentieth century (“Stray Dog”) and one of the shocking collections of futurist poets (“Dead Moon”). The interior of the cafe was decorated with the figure of a huge animal-like man with a cobblestone in one hand and a rope in the other, as well as many charming plush dogs with huge sad eyes. According to local waiters and personal observations, this establishment was a great success among children.

The number of examples confirming the “nationality” of these two Turgenev heroes can be increased: it is worth recalling at least the thin dog that periodically replaces the fat cow on the candy wrapper of Mumu sweets, and a joke in one of the KVN programs about Mr. Gerasim, a representative of the Animal Welfare Society. There are probably other, visual evidence, which, unfortunately, remained unknown to the author of this article. It is no coincidence that the name Mumu was included in the AiF collection “From Lassie to Nessie. 20 of the most famous animals" with the following comment: "The unfortunate dog, at the whim of the tyranny-serf lady (and in fact the insidious writer Turgenev!), drowned by the dumb Gerasim, is dearly loved by all the Russian people<…>»

It is easy to notice that all the above cases are united by the fundamental “separation” of the characters from the source text, from the realities of the serf-dominated landowner economy of the nineteenth century and the skillfully constructed system of images of the work. Gerasim’s unhappy love Tatyana, her drunkard husband Kapiton, and even, by and large, the main villainess, the lady, are actually excluded from the sphere of popular interpretation. A deaf-mute janitor and his beloved dog are left alone and begin to move through time and space with the ease characteristic of mythological heroes. The image of Gerasim itself is significantly transformed: it is unlikely that a person who has not read the text of the original source, but is familiar with its folklore interpretations, will come up with the idea that “together with a devoted little dog, a living human heart is drowning in the water, insulted, humiliated, crushed by wild tyranny”4 . In modern mass consciousness, the image of Gerasim is rather the image of an executioner, a sadist, a kind of “dog” maniac, but by no means a suffering victim of serfdom. All that remains from the prototext are the names of the characters, the memory of the tragic episode of drowning and the spectacular visual contrast embedded in it between the gigantic figure of a gloomy strongman and the tiny silhouette of a helpless little dog.

Apparently, among all Turgenev’s heroes, only this couple - Gerasim and Mumu - managed to become truly “folk heroes”, moving from the pages literary work to the vast expanses of domestic folklore and everyday culture. This fact does not at all indicate that the story “Mumu” ​​is the best work of I.S. Turgenev: Russian classics in general are in little demand by modern folklore, F.M. Dostoevsky and A.P. Chekhov was even less “lucky” in this regard, if, of course, it is generally appropriate to talk about any “luck” in this case. It is quite obvious that the mechanisms of folklorization completely mercilessly crush the author's intention, which could hardly appeal to both the classics themselves and their reverent admirers. However, this fact once again confirms the idea of ​​​​the diversity of the literary heritage of I.S. Turgenev and, in addition, allows us to talk about some specific qualities of the story “Mumu”, which provoked, in combination with extra-textual factors (such as widespread fame, inclusion in school curriculum etc.), the creative reaction of the masses. The identification and subsequent study of those qualities of a literary work that allow its heroes to become heroes of folklore is a separate, apparently very difficult scientific task, the unambiguous solution of which is hardly feasible within the framework of the genre of the article. On this moment It will be enough to indicate the very existence of such a task, interesting and important both for literary criticism and for modern folkloristics.

In one of the remote streets of Moscow, in a gray house with white columns, a mezzanine and a crooked balcony, there once lived a lady, a widow, surrounded by numerous servants. Her sons served in St. Petersburg, her daughters got married; She rarely went out and lived out the last years of her stingy and bored old age in solitude. Her day, joyless and stormy, has long passed; but her evening was blacker than night.

Of all her servants, the most remarkable person was the janitor Gerasim, a man twelve inches tall, built like a hero and deaf-mute from birth. The lady took him from the village, where he lived alone, in a small hut, separately from his brothers, and was considered perhaps the most serviceable draft man. Gifted with extraordinary strength, he worked for four people - the work was in his hands, and it was fun to watch him when he was either plowing and, leaning his huge palms on the plow, it seemed that alone, without the help of a horse, he was tearing up the elastic chest of the earth, or about Petrov the day had such a crushing effect with its scythe that it could even sweep away a young birch forest from its roots, or it would deftly and non-stop thresh with a three-yard flail, and like a lever the elongated and hard muscles of his shoulders would lower and rise. The constant silence gave solemn importance to his tireless work. He was a nice man, and if it weren’t for his misfortune, any girl would willingly marry him... But they brought Gerasim to Moscow, bought him boots, sewed a caftan for the summer, a sheepskin coat for the winter, gave him a broom and a shovel and assigned him janitor

At first he really didn’t like his new life. Since childhood, he was accustomed to field work and rural life. Alienated by his misfortune from the community of people, he grew up dumb and powerful, like a tree growing on fertile land... Moved to the city, he did not understand what was happening to him - he was bored and perplexed, as a young, healthy bull who has just been taken is perplexed from the field, where the lush grass grew up to his belly, they took him, put him on a railway carriage - and now, showering his corpulent body with smoke and sparks, now with wavy steam, they rush him now, they rush with a knock and a squeal, and where they rush - God news! Gerasim's employment in his new position seemed to him a joke after the hard work of the peasants; in half an hour everything was ready for him, and again he stopped in the middle of the yard and looked, with his mouth open, at everyone passing, as if wanting to get them to solve his mysterious situation, then suddenly he went somewhere into a corner and, throwing the broom far away and shovel, threw himself face down on the ground and lay motionless on his chest for hours, like a captured animal. But a person gets used to everything, and Gerasim finally got used to city life. He had little to do; His whole duty was to keep the yard clean, bring a barrel of water twice a day, haul and chop firewood for the kitchen and house, keep strangers out, and keep watch at night. And it must be said that he diligently fulfilled his duty: there were never any chips or litter lying around in his yard; if, in a dirty season, a broken water nag given under his command gets stuck somewhere with a barrel, he will only move his shoulder - and not only the cart, but the horse itself will be pushed out of place; Whenever he starts chopping wood, his ax rings like glass, and fragments and logs fly in all directions; and what about strangers, so after one night, having caught two thieves, he hit their foreheads against each other, and hit them so hard that at least he didn’t take them to the police afterwards, everyone in the neighborhood began to respect him very much; Even during the day, those passing by, no longer scammers at all, but simply strangers, at the sight of the formidable janitor, waved them off and shouted at him, as if he could hear their screams. With all the rest of his servants, Gerasim had a relationship that was not exactly friendly - they were afraid of him - but short: he considered them to be his own. They communicated with him by signs, and he understood them, carried out all orders exactly, but he also knew his rights, and no one dared to sit in his place at the capital. In general, Gerasim was of a strict and serious disposition, he loved order in everything; Even the roosters didn’t dare fight in front of him, otherwise there would be trouble! He sees him, immediately grabs him by the legs, spins him ten times in the air like a wheel, and throws him apart. There were also geese in the lady's yard; but the goose is known to be an important and sensible bird; Gerasim felt respect for them, followed them and fed them; he himself looked like a sedate gander. They gave him a closet above the kitchen; he arranged it for himself, according to his own taste: he built a bed in it from oak boards on four blocks, a truly heroic bed; a hundred pounds could have been put on it - it wouldn’t have bent; under the bed there was a hefty chest; in the corner there was a table of the same strong quality, and next to the table there was a chair on three legs, so strong and squat that Gerasim himself used to pick it up, drop it and grin. The closet was locked with a lock that resembled a kalach, only black; Gerasim always carried the key to this lock with him on his belt. He didn't like people to visit him.

So a year passed, at the end of which a small incident happened to Gerasim.

The old lady, with whom he lived as a janitor, followed ancient customs in everything and kept numerous servants: in her house there were not only laundresses, seamstresses, carpenters, tailors and dressmakers - there was even one saddler, he was also considered a veterinarian and doctor for the people, there was a house doctor for the mistress, and finally, there was one shoemaker named Kapiton Klimov, a bitter drunkard. Klimov considered himself a being offended and not appreciated, an educated and metropolitan man who would not live in Moscow, idle, in some outback, and if he drank, as he himself expressed himself with emphasis and beating his chest, then he drank just out of grief. So one day the lady and her chief butler, Gavrila, were talking about him, a man who, judging by his yellow eyes and duck nose, fate itself seemed to have destined to be the person in charge. The lady regretted the corrupt morality of Kapiton, who had just been found somewhere on the street the day before.

So, Gavrila,” she suddenly spoke, “shouldn’t we marry him, what do you think?” Maybe he'll settle down.

Why not get married, sir! “It’s possible, sir,” answered Gavrila, “and it will be very good, sir.”

Yes; But who will go for him?

Of course, sir. However, as you wish, sir. Still, he, so to speak, may be needed for something; you can't throw him out of the top ten.

Does he seem to like Tatyana?

Gavrila wanted to object, but pressed his lips together.

Yes!.. let him woo Tatyana, - the lady decided, sniffing the tobacco with pleasure, - do you hear?

“I’m listening, sir,” said Gavrila and left.

Returning to his room (it was in a wing and was almost entirely cluttered with forged chests), Gavrila first sent his wife out, and then sat down by the window and thought. The lady's unexpected order apparently puzzled him. Finally he stood up and ordered Capiton to be called. Kapiton appeared... But before we convey their conversation to the readers, we consider it useful to tell in a few words who this Tatyana was, whom Kapiton had to marry, and why the lady’s command confused the butler.

Tatyana, who, as we said above, held the position of laundress (however, as a skilled and learned laundress, she was entrusted with only fine linen), was a woman of about twenty-eight, small, thin, blond, with moles on her left cheek. Moles on the left cheek are considered a bad omen in Rus' - a harbinger of an unhappy life... Tatyana could not boast about her fate. From early youth she was kept in a black body; She worked for two people, but never saw any kindness; they dressed her poorly, she received the smallest salary; It was as if she had no relatives: some old housekeeper, left in the village due to disrepair, was her uncle, and the other uncles were her peasants - that’s all. She was once known as a beauty, but her beauty quickly faded away. She was of a very meek disposition, or, better said, intimidated; she felt complete indifference to herself, and was mortally afraid of others; I thought only about how to finish my work on time, never spoke to anyone, and trembled at the mere name of the lady, although she hardly knew her by sight. When Gerasim was brought from the village, she almost froze with horror at the sight of his huge figure, tried in every possible way not to meet him, even squinted her eyes, it happened when she happened to run past him, rushing from the house to the laundry - Gerasim at first did not pay special attention to her attention, then he began to chuckle when he came across her, then he began to look at her, and finally he did not take his eyes off her at all. He fell in love with her; whether by a meek expression on his face, or timidity of movements - God knows! One day she was making her way through the yard, carefully lifting her mistress’s starched jacket on her outstretched fingers... someone suddenly grabbed her tightly by the elbow; She turned around and screamed: Gerasim was standing behind her. Laughing stupidly and mooing affectionately, he handed her a gingerbread cockerel with gold leaf on its tail and wings. She wanted to refuse, but he forcibly shoved it right into her hand, shook his head, walked away and, turning around, once again mumbled something very friendly to her. From that day on, he never gave her any rest: wherever she went, he was right there, walking towards her, smiling, humming, waving his arms, suddenly pulling out a ribbon from his bosom and handing it to her, sweeping the dust in front of her. will clear. The poor girl simply didn’t know what to do or what to do. Soon the whole house learned about the dumb janitor's tricks; ridicule, jokes, and cutting words rained down on Tatyana. However, not everyone dared to mock Gerasim: he did not like jokes; and they left her alone with him. The Rada is not happy, but the girl came under his protection. Like all deaf-mutes, he was very quick-witted and understood very well when they were laughing at him or her. One day at dinner, the wardrobemaid, Tatyana’s boss, began, as they say, to spank her and got her so angry that she, poor thing, didn’t know where to put her eyes and almost cried with frustration. Gerasim suddenly stood up, extended his huge hand, placed it on the wardrobemaid’s head and looked into her face with such gloomy ferocity that she bent over the table. Everyone fell silent. Gerasim picked up the spoon again and continued to slurp the cabbage soup. “Look, you deaf devil!” - everyone muttered in a low voice, and the wardrobemaid got up and went to the maid’s room. And then another time, noticing that Kapiton, the same Kapiton who was now being discussed, was somehow getting too kind with Tatyana, Gerasim called him over with his finger, took him to the carriage house, and, yes, grabbed by the end what stood in the corner drawbar, lightly but meaningfully threatened him with it. Since then, no one has spoken to Tatyana. And he got away with it all. True, the wardrobemaid, as soon as she ran into the maid’s room, immediately fainted and generally acted so skillfully that on the same day she brought Gerasim’s rude act to the attention of the lady; but the whimsical old woman just laughed, several times, to the extreme insult of the wardrobemaid, forced her to repeat how, they say, he bent you down with his heavy hand, and the next day she sent Gerasim a ruble. She favored him as a faithful and strong watchman. Gerasim was quite afraid of her, but still hoped for her mercy and was about to go to her asking if she would allow him to marry Tatyana. He was just waiting for a new caftan, promised to him by the butler, so that he could appear in decent form before the lady, when suddenly this same lady came up with the idea of ​​marrying Tatiana to Kapiton.

The reader will now easily understand the reason for the embarrassment that seized the butler Gavrila after his conversation with his lady. “The lady,” he thought, sitting by the window, “of course, favors Gerasim (Gavrila knew this well, and that’s why he indulged him), yet he is a dumb creature; I can’t tell the lady that Gerasim is supposedly courting Tatyana. And finally, it’s fair, what kind of husband is he? But on the other hand, as soon as this, God forgive me, devil finds out that Tatyana is being given away as Kapiton, he will break everything in the house, by all means. After all, you can’t talk to him; After all, such a devil, I have sinned, a sinner, there is no way to persuade him... really!..”

The appearance of Kapiton interrupted Gavrilin's thread of thoughts. The frivolous shoemaker entered, threw his arms back and, cheekily leaning against the prominent corner of the wall near the door, placed his right foot crosswise in front of his left and shook his head. “Here I am. What do you need?

Gavrila looked at Kapiton and tapped his fingers on the window frame. Kapiton only narrowed his pewter eyes a little, but did not lower them, he even grinned slightly and ran his hand through his whitish hair, which was ruffling in all directions. Well, yes, I say, I am. What are you looking at?

“Good,” said Gavrila and was silent. - Good, nothing to say!

Kapiton just shrugged his shoulders. “And you’re probably better?” - he thought to himself.

Well, look at yourself, well, look,” Gavrila continued reproachfully, “well, who do you look like?”

Capiton calmly looked at his worn and tattered frock coat, his patched trousers, with special attention he examined his holey boots, especially the one on the toe of which his right leg rested so smartly, and again stared at the butler.

What? - Gavrila repeated. - What, sir? You also say: what? You look like the devil, I have sinned, sinner, that’s what you look like.

Kapiton blinked his eyes quickly.

“Swear, swear, swear, Gavrila Andreich,” he thought to himself again.

After all, you were drunk again,” Gavrila began, “right again?” A? Well, answer me.

Due to poor health, he was indeed exposed to alcoholic beverages,” Kapiton objected.

Due to poor health!.. You are not punished enough - that’s what; and in St. Petersburg you were still an apprentice... You learned a lot in your apprenticeship. Just eat bread for nothing.

In this case, Gavrila Andreich, there is only one judge for me: the Lord God himself - and no one else. He alone knows what kind of person I am in this world and whether I truly eat bread for nothing. And as far as drunkenness is concerned, in this case too, it is not me who is to blame, but more than one comrade; He himself deceived me, and even politicized me, he left, that is, and I...

And you, goose, remained on the street. Oh, you crazy man! Well, that’s not the point,” the butler continued, “but this is what. The lady…” here he paused, “the lady wants you to get married.” Do you hear? They think you'll settle down by getting married. Understand?

How can one not understand, sir.

Well, yes. In my opinion, it would be better to get a good grip on you. Well, that's their business. Well? Do you agree?

Kapiton grinned.

Marriage is a good thing for a person, Gavrila Andreich; and I, for my part, with my very pleasant pleasure.

Well, yes,” Gavrila objected and thought to himself: “There’s nothing to say, the man says carefully.” “Only this,” he continued aloud, “they found a bad bride for you.”

Which one, may I ask?..

Tatyana.

Tatiana?

And Kapiton widened his eyes and separated from the wall.

Well, why are you alarmed?.. Don’t you like her?

Which is not to your liking, Gavrila Andreich! She’s nothing, a worker, a quiet girl... But you yourself know, Gavrila Andreich, because that goblin is a steppe kikimora, because he’s behind her...

I know, brother, I know everything,” the butler interrupted him with annoyance, “but...

For mercy's sake, Gavrila Andreich! After all, he will kill me, by God he will kill me, like swatting some fly; after all, he has a hand, after all, if you please see for yourself what kind of hand he has; after all, he simply has Minin and Pozharsky’s hand. After all, he, deaf, hits and does not hear how he hits! It’s like he’s waving his fists in a dream. And there is no way to calm him down; Why? because, you yourself know, Gavrila Andreich, he is deaf and, on top of that, stupid as a heel. After all, this is some kind of beast, an idol, Gavrila Andreich - worse than an idol... some kind of aspen: why should I now suffer from him? Of course, now I don’t care about everything: a man held out, endured, oiled himself like a Kolomna pot - still, however, I am a man, and not some, in fact, insignificant pot.

I know, I know, don’t describe it...

Oh my God! - the shoemaker continued passionately, - when will it end? when, Lord! I am a wretched man, an endless wretched man! Fate, my fate, just think! In my younger years I was beaten by a German master; in the best part of my life, I was beaten by my own brother, and finally, in my mature years, this is what I have achieved...

“Eh, you filthy soul,” said Gavrila. - Why are you spreading the word, really!

Why, Gavrila Andreich! It's not beatings that I'm afraid of, Gavrila Andreich. Punish me, sir, within the walls, and give me a greeting in front of people, and I’m still among the people, but here, from whom do I have to...

“Well, get out,” Gavrila interrupted him impatiently.

Kapiton turned away and trudged out.

“Suppose he weren’t there,” the butler shouted after him, “do you agree?”

“I express it,” Kapiton objected and left.

Eloquence did not leave him even in extreme cases.

The butler walked around the room several times.

Well, now call Tatyana,” he finally said.

A few moments later, Tatyana entered, barely audibly, and stopped at the threshold.

What do you order, Gavrila Andreich? - she said in a quiet voice.

The butler looked at her intently.

Well,” he said, “Tanyusha, do you want to get married?” The lady has found a groom for you.

I’m listening, Gavrila Andreich. And who are they appointing as my groom? - she added hesitantly.

Capiton, shoemaker.

I'm listening, sir.

He's a frivolous person, that's for sure. But in this case, the lady is counting on you.

I'm listening, sir.

One problem... after all, this capercaillie, Garaska, is looking after you. And how did you charm this bear to you? But he will probably kill you, such a bear...

He will kill, Gavrila Andreich, he will certainly kill.

Will kill... Well, we'll see. How do you say: he will kill! Does he have the right to kill you, judge for yourself.

But I don’t know, Gavrila Andreich, whether he has it or not.

Wow! After all, you didn’t promise him anything...

What do you want, sir?

The butler paused and thought:

“You unrequited soul!” “Well, okay,” he added, “we’ll talk to you again, but now go, Tanyusha; I see you are definitely humble.

Tatyana turned, leaned lightly on the ceiling and left.

“Or maybe the lady will forget about this wedding tomorrow,” the butler thought, “why am I worried? We'll get this naughty guy down; If there’s anything, we’ll let the police know...” - Ustinya Fedorovna! - he shouted in a loud voice to his wife, - put on the samovar, my venerable...

Tatyana did not leave the laundry room almost all that day. At first she cried, then she wiped away her tears and went back to work. Kapiton sat in the establishment until late at night with some gloomy-looking friend and told him in detail how he lived in St. Petersburg with a gentleman who would have taken everything, but he was observant of the rules and, moreover, made one slight mistake: he took a lot of hops, and as for the female sex, he simply reached all the qualities... The gloomy comrade only assented; but when Kapiton finally announced that, on one occasion, he must lay hands on himself tomorrow, the gloomy comrade remarked that it was time to sleep. And they parted rudely and silently.

Meanwhile, the butler's expectations did not come true. The lady was so preoccupied with the thought of Kapiton’s wedding that even at night she only talked about it with one of her companions, who stayed in her house only in case of insomnia and, like a night cab driver, slept during the day. When Gavrila came to her after tea with a report, her first question was: how is our wedding going? He, of course, replied that everything was going as well as possible and that Kapiton would come to her today with a bow. The lady was feeling unwell; She did not take care of business for long. The butler returned to his room and called a council. The matter definitely required special discussion. Tatyana did not argue, of course; but Kapiton declared publicly that he had one head, and not two or three... Gerasim looked sternly and quickly at everyone, did not leave the maiden porch and seemed to guess that something bad was afoot for him. Those gathered (among them there was an old barman, nicknamed Uncle Tail, to whom everyone respectfully turned for advice, although all they heard from him was that: this is how it is, yes: yes, yes, yes) began with the fact that, just in case, for safety, they locked Kapiton in a closet with a water purification machine and began to think hard. Of course, it would have been easy to resort to force; but God forbid! there will be noise, the lady will be worried - trouble! What should I do? We thought and thought and finally came up with something. It was repeatedly noted that Gerasim could not stand drunkards... Sitting outside the gate, he would turn away indignantly every time when some loaded man walked past him with unsteady steps and with the visor of his cap on his ear. They decided to teach Tatyana so that she would pretend to be drunk and walk, staggering and swaying, past Gerasim. The poor girl did not agree for a long time, but she was persuaded; Moreover, she herself saw that otherwise she would not get rid of her admirer. She went. Kapiton was released from the closet: the matter concerned him after all. Gerasim was sitting on the bedside table by the gate and poking the ground with a shovel... People were looking at him from all corners, from under the curtains outside the windows...

The trick was a success. Seeing Tatyana, he first, as usual, nodded his head with a gentle moo; then he took a closer look, dropped the shovel, jumped up, walked up to her, brought his face close to her face... She staggered even more in fear and closed her eyes... He grabbed her hand, rushed across the entire yard and, entering with her into the room where he was sitting advice, pushed her straight to Capito. Tatyana just froze... Gerasim stood, looked at her, waved his hand, grinned and walked, stepping heavily, into his closet... He didn’t come out of there for a whole day. Postilion Antipka later said that through a crack he saw how Gerasim, sitting on the bed, putting his hand to his cheek, quietly, measuredly and only occasionally mooed, sang, that is, swayed, closed his eyes and shook his head, like coachmen or barge haulers when they draw out their mournful songs. Antipka felt terrified, and he moved away from the crack. When Gerasim came out of the closet the next day, no particular change could be noticed in him. He only seemed to become more gloomy, but did not pay the slightest attention to Tatyana and Kapiton. That same evening, both of them, with geese under their arms, went to the lady and got married a week later. On the very day of the wedding, Gerasim did not change his behavior in any way; Only he arrived from the river without water: he once broke a barrel on the road; and at night, in the stable, he cleaned and rubbed his horse so diligently that it staggered like a blade of grass in the wind and swayed from foot to foot under his iron fists.

All this happened in the spring. Another year passed, during which Kapiton finally became an alcoholic and, as a decidedly worthless person, was sent with a convoy to a distant village, along with his wife. On the day of departure, at first he was very brave and assured that no matter where they sent him, even to where the women washed their shirts and put rollers on the sky, he would not be lost; but then he lost heart, began to complain that he was being taken to uneducated people, and finally became so weak that he could not even put on his own hat; some compassionate soul pulled it over his forehead, adjusted the visor and slammed it on top. When everything was ready and the men already held the reins in their hands and were only waiting for the words: “With God!”, Gerasim came out of his closet, approached Tatyana and gave her a red paper handkerchief, which he had bought for her a year ago, as a souvenir. . Tatyana, who until that moment had endured all the vicissitudes of her life with great indifference, here, however, could not stand it, burst into tears and, getting into the cart, kissed Gerasim three times in a Christian manner. He wanted to accompany her to the outpost and first walked next to her cart, but suddenly stopped at the Crimean Ford, waved his hand and set off along the river.

It was late in the evening. He walked quietly and looked at the water. Suddenly it seemed to him that something was floundering in the mud near the shore. He bent down and saw a small puppy, white with black spots, who, despite all his efforts, could not get out of the water; he struggled, slid and trembled with his entire wet and thin body. Gerasim looked at the unfortunate little dog, picked it up with one hand, put it in his bosom and took long steps home. He entered his closet, laid the rescued puppy on the bed, covered him with his heavy overcoat, and ran first to the stable for straw, then to the kitchen for a cup of milk. Carefully throwing back his coat and spreading out the straw, he placed the milk on the bed. The poor little dog was only three weeks old, her eyes had recently opened; one eye even seemed a little larger than the other; She did not yet know how to drink from a cup and only trembled and squinted. Gerasim lightly took her head with two fingers and bent her muzzle towards the milk. The dog suddenly began to drink greedily, snorting, shaking and choking. Gerasim looked and watched and suddenly laughed... All night he fussed with her, laid her down, dried her and finally fell asleep next to her in some kind of joyful and quiet sleep.

No mother cares for her child as much as Gerasim looked after his pet. (The dog turned out to be a bitch.) At first she was very weak, frail and ugly, but little by little she got over it and straightened out, and after eight months, thanks to the constant care of her savior, she turned into a very nice dog of the Spanish breed, with long ears, a bushy tail the shape of a pipe and large expressive eyes. She became passionately attached to Gerasim and did not lag behind him a single step, she kept following him, wagging her tail. He also gave her a nickname - dumb people know that their mooing attracts the attention of others - he called her Mumu. All the people in the house loved her and also called her Mumunei. She was extremely smart, affectionate towards everyone, but she loved only Gerasim. Gerasim himself loved her madly... and it was unpleasant for him when others stroked her: he was afraid, perhaps, for her, whether he was jealous of her - God knows! She woke him up in the morning, pulling him by the floor, brought to him by the reins an old water carrier, with whom she lived in great friendship, with an important look on her face she went with him to the river, guarded his brooms and shovels, and did not let anyone near his closet. He deliberately cut a hole in his door for her, and she seemed to feel that only in Gerasim’s closet she was a complete mistress, and therefore, upon entering it, she immediately jumped onto the bed with a contented look. At night she did not sleep at all, but did not bark indiscriminately, like some stupid mongrel who, sitting on her hind legs and raising her muzzle and closing her eyes, simply barks out of boredom, like at the stars, and usually three times in a row - no! Mumu's thin voice was never heard in vain: either a stranger came close to the fence, or somewhere there was a suspicious noise or rustle... In a word, she was an excellent guard. True, besides her, there was also in the yard an old yellow dog with brown spots, named Volchok, but he was never let off the chain, even at night, and he himself, due to his decrepitude, did not at all demand freedom - he lay curled up in his kennel and only occasionally uttered a hoarse, almost silent bark, which he immediately stopped, as if he himself felt all its uselessness. Mumu didn’t go to the manor’s house, and when Gerasim carried firewood into the rooms, she always stayed back and waited impatiently for him at the porch, with her ears pricked up and her head turning first to the right, then suddenly to the left, at the slightest knock on the door...

So another year passed. Gerasim continued his work as a janitor and was very pleased with his fate, when suddenly one unexpected circumstance occurred... namely:

One fine summer day, the lady and her hangers-on were walking around the living room. She was in good spirits, laughing and joking; the hangers-on laughed and joked too, but they didn’t feel much joy: they didn’t really like it in the house when the lady had a happy hour, because, firstly, she then demanded everyone’s immediate and complete sympathy and got angry if anyone her face did not shine with pleasure, and secondly, these outbursts did not last long and were usually replaced by a gloomy and sour mood. That day she somehow got up happily; the cards showed her four jacks: wish fulfillment (she always used to tell fortunes in the morning) - and the tea seemed especially tasty to her, for which the maid received verbal praise and a ten-kopeck piece of money. With a sweet smile on her wrinkled lips, the lady walked around the living room and approached the window. There was a front garden in front of the window, and in the middle flowerbed, under a rose bush, Mumu lay carefully gnawing on a bone. The lady saw her.

My God! - she suddenly exclaimed, “what kind of dog is this?”

The hanger-on, to whom the lady turned, rushed about, poor thing, with that melancholy anxiety that usually takes possession of a subordinate person when he does not yet know well how to understand the exclamation of his boss.

“I don’t know, sir,” she muttered, “it seems dumb.”

My God! - the lady interrupted, - yes, she is a lovely little dog! Tell her to be brought. How long has he had it? How come I haven’t seen her before?.. Tell her to be brought.

The hanger-on immediately fluttered into the hallway.

Man, man! - she shouted, “bring Mumu quickly!” She's in the front garden.

And her name is Mumu,” said the lady, “a very good name.”

Oh, very much! - objected the hanger-on. - Hurry, Stepan!

Stepan, a burly guy who held the position of footman, rushed headlong into the front garden and wanted to grab Mumu, but she deftly wriggled out from under his fingers and, raising her tail, ran at full speed towards Gerasim, who at that time was beating out and shook out the barrel, turning it over in his hands like a child's drum. Stepan ran after her and began to catch her at the very feet of her owner; but the nimble dog did not give in to the hands of a stranger, it jumped and dodged. Gerasim looked with a grin at all this fuss; Finally, Stepan stood up with annoyance and hastily explained to him with signs that the lady, they say, demands your dog to come to her. Gerasim was a little surprised, but he called Mumu, picked her up from the ground and handed her over to Stepan. Stepan brought it into the living room and placed it on the parquet floor. The lady began to call her to her in a gentle voice. Mumu, who had never been in such magnificent chambers in her life, was very frightened and rushed to the door, but, pushed away by the obliging Stepan, she trembled and pressed herself against the wall.

Mumu, Mumu, come to me, come to the lady, - said the lady, - come, silly... don’t be afraid...

Come, come, Mumu, to the lady,” the hangers-on kept repeating, “come.”

But Mumu looked around sadly and did not move from her place.

“Bring her something to eat,” said the lady. - How stupid she is! does not go to the lady. What is he afraid of?

“They’re not used to it yet,” one of the hangers-on said in a timid and touching voice.

Stepan brought a saucer of milk and placed it in front of Mumu, but Mumu didn’t even smell the milk and kept trembling and looking around as before.

Oh, what are you! - said the lady, approaching her, bent down and wanted to stroke her, but Mumu convulsively turned her head and bared her teeth. The lady quickly pulled her hand back...

There was a moment's silence. Mumu squealed weakly, as if complaining and apologizing... The lady walked away and frowned. The sudden movement of the dog startled her.

Oh! - all the hangers-on shouted at once, - did she bite you, God forbid! (Mumu has never bitten anyone in her life.) Ah, ah!

“Take her out,” the old woman said in a changed voice. - Bad dog! how evil she is!

And, slowly turning around, she headed to her office. The hangers-on timidly looked at each other and started to follow her, but she stopped, looked at them coldly, and said: “Why is this? I’m not calling you,” and she left. The hangers-on desperately waved their hands at Stepan; he picked up Mumu and quickly threw her out the door, right at Gerasim’s feet - and half an hour later a deep silence reigned in the house and the old lady sat on her sofa gloomier than a thundercloud.

What trifles, just think, can sometimes upset a person!

Until the evening the lady was not in a good mood, did not talk to anyone, did not play cards, and had a bad night. She got it into her head that the cologne they served her was not the one they usually served, that her pillow smelled of soap, and made the wardrobe maid smell all her linen - in a word, she was very worried and “hot.” The next morning she ordered Gavrila to be called an hour earlier than usual.

Tell me, please,” she began, as soon as he, not without some internal babbling, crossed the threshold of her office, “what kind of dog was that barking in our yard all night?” Didn't let me sleep!

A dog, sir... some kind of dog... maybe a dumb dog, sir,” he said in a not entirely firm voice.

I don’t know if it was dumb or someone else, but she didn’t let me sleep. Yes, I’m surprised why there are so many dogs! I want to know. After all, we have a yard dog?

How come, sir, yes, sir. Volchok, sir.

Well, what else, what else do we need a dog for? Just start some riots. The elder is not in the house - that's what. And what does a mute need a dog for? Who allowed him to keep dogs in my yard? Yesterday I went to the window, and she was lying in the front garden, she had brought some kind of abomination, gnawing - and I had roses planted there...

The lady was silent.

So that she wouldn’t be here today... do you hear?

I'm listening, sir.

Today. Now go. I’ll call you to report later.

Gavrila left.

Passing through the living room, the butler, for the sake of order, moved the bell from one table to another, secretly blew his duck nose in the hall and went out into the hall. In the hall, Stepan was sleeping on a bunk, in the position of a killed warrior in a battle painting, his bare legs convulsively stretched out from under his frock coat, which served him as a blanket. The butler pushed him aside and in a low voice told him some order, to which Stepan responded with a half-yawn, half-laugh. The butler left, and Stepan jumped up, pulled on his caftan and boots, went out and stopped at the porch. Less than five minutes passed when Gerasim appeared with a huge bundle of firewood on his back, accompanied by the inseparable Mumu. (The lady ordered her bedroom and office to be heated even in the summer.) Gerasim stood sideways in front of the door, pushed it with his shoulder and burst into the house with his burden. Mumu, as usual, remained to wait for him. Then Stepan, seizing an opportune moment, suddenly rushed at her like a kite at a chicken, crushed her with his chest to the ground, grabbed her in his arms and, without even putting on a cap, ran out with her into the yard, sat on the first cab he came across and galloped off to Okhotny Ryad. There he soon found a buyer, to whom he sold her for fifty dollars, with the sole condition that he would keep her on a leash for at least a week, and returned immediately; but, before reaching the house, he got off the cab and, going around the yard, from the back alley, jumped over the fence into the yard; He was afraid to go through the gate, lest he might meet Gerasim.

However, his concern was in vain: Gerasim was no longer in the yard. Leaving the house, he immediately missed Mumu; He still didn’t remember that she would ever not wait for his return, he began to run everywhere, look for her, call her in his own way... he rushed into his closet, into the hayloft, jumped out into the street - back and forth... She disappeared! He turned to the people, asked about her with the most desperate signs, pointing half an arshin from the ground, drew her with his hands... Some didn’t know exactly where Mumu had gone and just shook their heads, others knew and laughed at him in response, and the butler accepted looked extremely important and began to shout at the coachmen. Then Gerasim ran away from the yard.

It was already getting dark when he returned. From his exhausted appearance, from his unsteady gait, from his dusty clothes, one could assume that he had managed to run around half of Moscow. He stopped in front of the master's windows, looked around the porch, on which seven courtyard people were crowded, turned away and muttered again: “Mumu!” - Mumu did not respond. He walked away. Everyone looked after him, but no one smiled, did not say a word... and the curious postilion Antipka told the next morning in the kitchen that the mute had been groaning all night.

The whole next day Gerasim did not show up, so the coachman Potap had to go get water instead, which the coachman Potap was very dissatisfied with. The lady asked Gavrila whether her order had been carried out. Gavrila replied that it was done. The next morning Gerasim left his closet to go to work. He came to dinner, ate and left again without bowing to anyone. His face, already lifeless, like that of all deaf-mutes, now seemed to have turned to stone. After lunch he left the yard again, but not for long; he returned and immediately went to the hayloft. The night came, moonlit, clear. Sighing heavily and constantly turning around, Gerasim lay and suddenly felt as if he were being pulled by the floor; he trembled all over, but did not raise his head, even closed his eyes; but then they pulled him again, stronger than before; he jumped up... in front of him, with a piece of paper around her neck, Mumu was spinning. A long cry of joy burst from his silent chest; he grabbed Mumu and squeezed her in his arms; in an instant she licked his nose, eyes, mustache and beard... He stood, thought, carefully climbed down from the hay, looked around and, making sure that no one would see him, safely made his way into his closet - Gerasim had already guessed that the dog had not disappeared it goes without saying that she must have been brought together on the orders of the lady; people explained to him by signs how his Mumu had snapped at her, and he decided to take his own measures. First he fed Mumu some bread, caressed her, put her to bed, then he began to think, and spent the whole night thinking about how best to hide her. Finally, he came up with the idea of ​​leaving her in the closet all day and only visiting her occasionally, and taking her out at night. He tightly plugged the hole in the door with his old overcoat and as soon as it was light he was already in the yard, as if nothing had happened, even retaining (innocent cunning!) the former despondency on his face. It could not have occurred to the poor deaf man that Mumu would give himself away with his squealing: indeed, everyone in the house soon learned that the mute dog had returned and was locked up with him, but, out of pity for him and her, and partly, perhaps, out of fear of him, they did not let him know that they had discovered his secret. The butler scratched the back of his head and waved his hand. “Well, they say, God bless him! Maybe it won’t reach the lady!” But the mute had never been as zealous as he was that day: he cleaned and scraped the entire yard, weeded out every last weed, with his own hands he pulled out all the pegs in the front garden fence to make sure they were strong enough, and then he hammered them in - in a word, he tinkered and he worked so hard that even the lady paid attention to his zeal. During the day, Gerasim secretly went to see his recluse twice; when night came, he went to sleep with her in the closet, and not in the hayloft, and only in the second hour did he go out for a walk with her clean air. After walking around the yard with her for quite some time, he was about to return, when suddenly a rustling sound was heard behind the fence, from the side of the alley. Mumu pricked up her ears, growled, walked up to the fence, sniffed and began to bark loudly and piercingly. Some drunken man decided to nest there for the night. At this very time, the lady had just fallen asleep after a long period of “nervous excitement”: these worries always happened to her after a too rich dinner. A sudden barking woke her up; her heart began to beat and froze. “Girls, girls! - she moaned. - Girls! The frightened girls jumped into her bedroom. “Oh, oh, I’m dying! - she said, waving her hands sadly. - Again, again this dog!.. Oh, send for the doctor. They want to kill me... Dog, dog again! Oh!" - and she threw her head back, which should have meant fainting. They rushed to get the doctor, that is, the house doctor Khariton. This doctor, whose whole art consisted in the fact that he wore boots with soft soles, knew how to delicately take the pulse, slept fourteen hours a day, and the rest of the time sighed and constantly regaled the lady with cherry laurel drops - this doctor immediately ran in and smoked burnt feathers and, when the lady opened her eyes, he immediately brought her a glass with the treasured drops on a silver tray. The lady accepted them, but immediately in a tearful voice began to complain again about the dog, about Gavrila, about her fate, about the fact that everyone had abandoned her, a poor old woman, that no one was sorry for her, that everyone wanted her dead. Meanwhile, the unfortunate Mumu continued to bark, and Gerasim tried in vain to call her away from the fence. “Here... here... again...” the lady stammered and again rolled her eyes under her forehead. The doctor whispered to the girl, she rushed into the hallway, pushed Stepan, he ran to wake up Gavrila, Gavrila rashly ordered the whole house to be raised.

Gerasim turned around, saw flashing lights and shadows in the windows and, sensing trouble in his heart, grabbed Mumu under the arm, ran into the closet and locked himself. A few moments later, five people were banging on his door, but, feeling the resistance of the bolt, they stopped. Gavrila came running in a terrible hurry, ordered them all to stay here until the morning and keep watch, and then he rushed into the girls' room and through the senior companion Lyubov Lyubimovna, with whom he stole and counted tea, sugar and other groceries, ordered to report to the lady that the dog, to misfortune, she came running from somewhere again, but that tomorrow she would not be alive and that the lady would do a favor, not be angry and calm down. The lady probably would not have calmed down so quickly, but the doctor hastily poured forty instead of twelve drops: the power of the cherry laurel worked - after a quarter of an hour the lady was already resting soundly and peacefully; and Gerasim lay, all pale, on his bed - and tightly squeezed Mumu’s mouth.

The next morning the lady woke up quite late. Gavrila was waiting for her to awaken in order to give the order for a decisive attack on the Gerasimovo refuge, and he himself was preparing to withstand a strong thunderstorm. But there was no thunderstorm. Lying in bed, the lady ordered to call the eldest hanger-on.

Lyubov Lyubimovna,” she began in a quiet and weak voice; she sometimes liked to pretend to be a downtrodden and lonely sufferer; there is no need to say that all the people in the house then felt very awkward, - Lyubov Lyubimovna, you see what my position is: go, my soul, to Gavrila Andreich, talk to him: is some little dog really more valuable to him than peace of mind, life itself? his ladies? “I wouldn’t want to believe this,” she added with an expression of deep feeling, “come, my soul, be so kind as to go to Gavrila Andreich.”

Lyubov Lyubimovna went to Gavrilin’s room. It is unknown what their conversation was about; but after some time a whole crowd of people moved across the courtyard in the direction of Gerasim’s closet: Gavrila stepped forward, holding his cap with his hand, although there was no wind; footmen and cooks walked around him; Uncle Tail looked out of the window and gave orders, that is, he just threw up his hands; Behind everyone, boys were jumping and making faces, half of whom were strangers. On the narrow staircase leading to the closet sat one guard; there were two others standing by the door, with sticks. They began to climb the stairs and occupied its entire length. Gavrila went up to the door, knocked on it with his fist, and shouted:

A muffled bark was heard; but there was no answer.

They say open it! - he repeated.

Yes, Gavrila Andreich,” Stepan noted from below, “after all, he is deaf and cannot hear.”

Everyone laughed.

How to be? - Gavrila objected from above.

“And he has a hole in the door,” Stepan answered, “so you move the stick.”

Gavrila bent down.

He plugged the hole with some kind of overcoat.

And you push the army coat inside.

Here again a dull bark was heard.

Look, look, it speaks for itself,” they noticed in the crowd and laughed again.

Gavrila scratched behind his ear.

No, brother,” he continued at last, “you push through the Armenian yourself if you want.”

Well, if you please!

And Stepan climbed up, took a stick, stuck his coat inside and began dangling the stick in the hole, saying: “Come out, come out!” He was still swinging the stick, when suddenly the closet door quickly swung open - all the servants immediately rolled head over heels down the stairs, Gavrila first of all. Uncle Tail locked the window.

Well, well, well, well,” Gavrila shouted from the yard, “look at me, look!”

Gerasim stood motionless on the threshold. A crowd gathered at the foot of the stairs. Gerasim looked at all these little people in German caftans from above, his hands lightly resting on his hips; in his red peasant shirt he seemed like some kind of giant in front of them, Gavrila took a step forward.

Look, brother,” he said, “don’t be mischievous with me.”

And he began to explain to him with signs that the lady, they say, certainly demands your dog: give it to him now, otherwise you will be in trouble.

Gerasim looked at him, pointed to the dog, made a sign with his hand at his neck, as if tightening a noose, and looked at the butler with a questioning face.

Yes, yes,” he objected, nodding his head, “yes, certainly.”

Gerasim lowered his eyes, then suddenly shook himself, again pointed at Mumu, who stood near him all the time, innocently wagging her tail and moving her ears with curiosity, repeated the sign of strangulation over his neck and significantly hit himself in the chest, as if announcing that he himself was taking take it upon yourself to destroy Mumu.

“You’re deceiving me,” Gavrila waved back at him.

Gerasim looked at him, grinned contemptuously, hit himself in the chest again and slammed the door.

Everyone looked at each other silently.

What does this mean? - Gavrila began. - Did he lock himself?

Leave him, Gavrila Andreich,” said Stepan, “he will do what he promised.” That's how he is... If he promises, it's certain. He's not like our brother. What's true is true. Yes.

Yes,” they all repeated and shook their heads. - This is true. Yes.

Uncle Tail opened the window and also said: “Yes.”

Well, perhaps we’ll see,” Gavrila objected, “but we still won’t remove the guard.” Hey you, Eroshka! - he added, turning to a pale man in a yellow nankeen Cossack, who was considered a gardener, - what should you do? Take a stick and sit here, and immediately run to me!

Eroshka took the stick and sat down on the last step of the stairs. The crowd dispersed, except for a few curious people and boys, and Gavrila returned home and, through Lyubov Lyubimovna, ordered the mistress to report that everything had been done, and he himself, just in case, sent a postilion to the guest. The lady tied a knot in her handkerchief, poured cologne on it, sniffed it, rubbed her temples, drank some tea and, still under the influence of the cherry laurel drops, fell asleep again.

An hour later, after all this alarm, the closet door opened and Gerasim appeared. He was wearing a festive caftan; he led Mumu on a string. Eroshka stepped aside and let him pass. Gerasim headed towards the gate. The boys and everyone in the yard followed him with their eyes, silently. He didn’t even turn around: he only put on his hat on the street. Gavrila sent the same Eroshka after him as an observer. Eroshka saw from a distance that he entered the tavern with the dog, and began to wait for him to come out.

They knew Gerasim at the tavern and understood his signs. He asked for cabbage soup with meat and sat down, leaning his hands on the table. Mumu stood next to his chair, calmly looking at him with her intelligent eyes. Her fur was so shiny: it was clear that it had recently been combed. They brought cabbage soup to Gerasim. He crumbled some bread into it, finely chopped the meat and placed the plate on the floor. Mumu began to eat with her usual politeness, barely touching her muzzle to the food. Gerasim looked at her for a long time; two heavy tears suddenly rolled out of his eyes: one fell onto the dog’s steep forehead, the other into the cabbage soup. He shaded his face with his hand. Mumu ate half a plate and walked away, licking her lips. Gerasim got up, paid for the cabbage soup and walked out, accompanied by a somewhat perplexed look from the policeman. Eroshka, seeing Gerasim, jumped around the corner and, letting him pass, went after him again.

Gerasim walked slowly and did not let Mumu off the rope. Having reached the corner of the street, he stopped, as if in thought, and suddenly with quick steps he went straight to the Crimean Ford. On the road, he went into the courtyard of a house to which an outbuilding was attached, and carried out two bricks under his arm. From the Crimean Ford he turned along the shore, reached a place where there were two boats with oars tied to pegs (he had already noticed them before), and jumped into one of them together with Mumu. A lame old man came out from behind a hut erected in the corner of the garden and shouted at him. But Gerasim only nodded his head and began rowing so hard, albeit against the flow of the river, that in an instant he rushed a hundred fathoms. The old man stood, stood, scratched his back, first with his left hand, then with his right hand, and returned, limping, to the hut.

And Gerasim rowed and rowed. Now Moscow is left behind. Meadows, vegetable gardens, fields, groves have already stretched along the banks, and huts have appeared. There was a whiff of the village. He dropped the oars, leaned his head against Mumu, who was sitting in front of him on a dry crossbar - the bottom was flooded with water - and remained motionless, crossing his powerful arms on her back, while the boat was gradually carried back to the city by the wave. Finally, Gerasim straightened up, hurriedly, with some kind of painful anger on his face, wrapped a rope around the bricks he had taken, attached a noose, put it around Mumu’s neck, raised her above the river, looked at her for the last time... She looked at him trustingly and without fear and waved her tail slightly. He turned away, closed his eyes and unclenched his hands... Gerasim heard nothing, neither the quick squeal of the falling Mumu, nor the heavy splash of water; for him, the noisiest day was silent and soundless, just as not even the quietest night is silent for us, and when he opened his eyes again, the small waves were still rushing along the river, as if chasing each other, they were still splashing against the sides of the boat, and only some wide circles scattered far back and towards the shore.

Eroshka, as soon as Gerasim was out of sight, returned home and reported everything he had seen.

Well, yes,” Stepan noted, “he will drown her.” You can be calm. If he promised anything...

During the day no one saw Gerasim. He didn't have lunch at home. Evening came; Everyone gathered for dinner except him.

What a wonderful Gerasim! - squeaked the fat washerwoman, - is it possible to get laid like that because of a dog!.. Really!

“Yes, Gerasim was here,” Stepan suddenly exclaimed, scooping up a spoonful of porridge.

How? When?

Yes, about two hours ago. Of course. I met him at the gate; he was already walking away from here again, leaving the yard. I wanted to ask him about the dog, but he was obviously not in a good mood. Well, he pushed me; He must have just wanted to put me off, saying, don’t pester me, but he brought such an extraordinary bream to my veins, it’s so important that oh-oh-oh! - And Stepan, with an involuntary grin, shrugged and rubbed the back of his head. “Yes,” he added, “he has a hand, a gracious hand, there’s nothing to say.”

Everyone laughed at Stepan and after dinner went to bed.

Meanwhile, at that very time, some giant was striding diligently and non-stop along the T... highway, with a sack over his shoulders and a long stick in his hands. It was Gerasim. He hurried without looking back, hurried home, to his village, to his homeland. Having drowned poor Mumu, he ran to his closet, quickly packed some belongings into an old blanket, tied it in a knot, slung it over his shoulder, and was off. He noticed the road well even when he was being taken to Moscow; the village from which the lady took him lay only twenty-five miles from the highway. He walked along it with some kind of indestructible courage, with desperate and at the same time joyful determination. He was walking; his chest opened wide; the eyes greedily and directly rushed forward. He was in a hurry, as if his old mother was waiting for him in his homeland, as if she was calling him to her after a long wandering in a foreign land, among strangers... The summer night that had just arrived was quiet and warm; on the one hand, where the sun had set, the edge of the sky was still white and faintly reddened by the last glow of the disappearing day; on the other hand, a blue, gray twilight was already rising. The night went on from there. Hundreds of quails thundered all around, corncrakes called to each other... Gerasim could not hear them, nor could he hear the sensitive night whispering of the trees, past which his strong legs carried him, but he felt the familiar smell of ripening rye, which was wafting from the dark fields, he felt like the wind flying towards him - the wind from his homeland - gently hit his face, played in his hair and beard; I saw a white road in front of me - the road home, straight as an arrow; he saw in the sky countless stars illuminating his path, and like a lion he stood out strong and cheerfully, so that when the rising sun illuminated the young man who had just departed with its wet red rays, already thirty-five miles lay between Moscow and him...

Two days later he was already at home, in his hut, to the great amazement of the soldier who was placed there. Having prayed before the images, he immediately went to the elder. The headman was surprised at first; but the haymaking had just begun: Gerasim, as an excellent worker, was immediately given a scythe in his hands - and he went to mow in the old-fashioned way, to mow in such a way that the peasants just got chills, looking at his sweep and rakes...

And in Moscow, the day after Gerasim’s escape, they missed him. They went to his closet, ransacked it, and told Gavrila. He came, looked, shrugged his shoulders and decided that the mute either fled or drowned along with his stupid dog. They let the police know and reported to the lady. The lady became angry, burst into tears, ordered him to be found at all costs, assured that she had never ordered the dog to be destroyed, and, finally, she scolded Gavrila so much that he just shook his head all day and said: “Well!” - until Uncle Tail reasoned with him, telling him: “Well!” Finally, news came from the village that Gerasim had arrived there. The lady calmed down somewhat; At first she gave the order to immediately demand him back to Moscow, then, however, she announced that she did not need such an ungrateful person at all. However, she herself died soon after; and her heirs had no time for Gerasim: they also dismissed the rest of her mother’s people on rent.

And Gerasim still lives as a bob in his lonely hut; healthy and powerful as before, and works for four as before, and is still important and dignified. But the neighbors noticed that since his return from Moscow he had completely stopped hanging out with women, didn’t even look at them, and didn’t keep a single dog. “However,” the men interpret, “it’s his luck that he doesn’t need a woman’s wife; and a dog - what does he need a dog for? You can’t drag a thief into his yard with a donkey!” This is the rumor about the heroic strength of the mute.

Notes

...perhaps the most serviceable draft man. - Tax - serfdom, which landowners imposed on their peasants. A conditional family (two adult workers, a man and a woman, sometimes with the addition of a semi-worker - a teenager) was taken as a unit of taxation of corvée or quitrent. Turgenev emphasizes that Gerasim was a full-fledged worker who carried out all peasant duties.

...after all, he simply has Minin and Pozharsky’s hand. - On the monument to Minin and Pozharsky, erected in Moscow on Red Square in 1826 (author - sculptor I.P. Martos), Minin is depicted with a mighty hand extended forward.

...you can’t drag a thief into his yard with a donkey! - Donkey - a cape loop made of rope, lasso (from master, control, catch).