Traditional medicine

Poor Lisa's work author and genre. “Poor Liza,” analysis of Karamzin’s story

In the outskirts of Moscow, not far from the Simonov Monastery, there once lived a young girl Lisa with her old mother. After the death of Liza's father, a fairly wealthy villager, his wife and daughter became poor. The widow became weaker day by day and could not work. Liza alone, not sparing her tender youth and rare beauty, worked day and night - weaving canvases, knitting stockings, picking flowers in the spring, and berries in the summer and selling them in Moscow.

One spring, two years after her father’s death, Lisa came to Moscow with lilies of the valley. A young, well-dressed man met her on the street. Having learned that she was selling flowers, he offered her a ruble instead of five kopecks, saying that “beautiful lilies of the valley, plucked by hand beautiful girl, cost a ruble.” But Lisa refused the offered amount. He did not insist, but said that in the future he would always buy flowers from her and would like her to pick them only for him.

Arriving home, Lisa told her mother everything, and the next day she picked the best lilies of the valley and came to the city again, but young man I didn’t meet you this time. Throwing flowers into the river, she returned home with sadness in her soul. The next day in the evening the stranger himself came to her house. As soon as she saw him, Lisa rushed to her mother and excitedly told him who was coming to them. The old woman met the guest, and he seemed to her to be a very kind and pleasant person. Erast—that was the young man’s name—confirmed that he was going to buy flowers from Lisa in the future, and she didn’t have to go into town: he could stop by to see them himself.

Erast was a rather rich nobleman, with a fair amount of intelligence and a naturally kind heart, but weak and flighty. He led distracted life, thought only about his own pleasure, looked for it in secular amusements, and not finding it, he was bored and complained about fate. At the first meeting, Lisa’s immaculate beauty shocked him: it seemed to him that in her he found exactly what he had been looking for for a long time.

This was the beginning of their long dates. Every evening they saw each other either on the river bank, or in a birch grove, or under the shade of hundred-year-old oak trees. They hugged, but their hugs were pure and innocent.

Several weeks passed like this. It seemed that nothing could interfere with their happiness. But one evening Lisa came to a date sad. It turned out that the groom, the son of a rich peasant, was wooing her, and her mother wanted her to marry him. Erast, consoling Lisa, said that after his mother’s death he would take her to him and live with her inseparably. But Lisa reminded the young man that he could never be her husband: she was a peasant, and he was of a noble family. You offend me, said Erast, for your friend the most important thing is your soul, a sensitive, innocent soul, you will always be closest to my heart. Lisa threw herself into his arms - and at this hour her integrity was to perish.

The delusion passed in one minute, giving way to surprise and fear. Lisa cried saying goodbye to Erast.

Their dates continued, but how everything changed! Lisa was no longer an angel of purity for Erast; platonic love gave way to feelings that he could not be “proud of” and which were not new to him. Lisa noticed a change in him, and it saddened her.

One day during a date, Erast told Lisa that he was being drafted into the army; they will have to part for a while, but he promises to love her and hopes to never part with her upon his return. It is not difficult to imagine how hard it was for Lisa to be separated from her beloved. However, hope did not leave her, and every morning she woke up with the thought of Erast and their happiness upon his return.

About two months passed like this. One day Lisa went to Moscow and on one of big streets I saw Erast passing by in a magnificent carriage, which stopped near a huge house. Erast came out and was about to go out onto the porch, when he suddenly felt himself in Lisa’s arms. He turned pale, then, without saying a word, led her into the office and locked the door. Circumstances have changed, he announced to the girl, he is engaged.

Before Lisa could come to her senses, he took her out of the office and told the servant to escort her out of the yard.

Finding herself on the street, Lisa walked wherever she looked, unable to believe what she heard. She left the city and wandered for a long time until she suddenly found herself on the shore of a deep pond, under the shadow of ancient oak trees, which several weeks before had been silent witnesses to her delight. This memory shocked Lisa, but after a few minutes she fell into deep thought. Seeing a neighbor's girl walking along the road, she called her, took all the money out of her pocket and gave it to her, asking her to tell her mother, kiss her and ask her to forgive her poor daughter. Then she threw herself into the water, and they could no longer save her.

Liza's mother, having learned about terrible death daughter, could not withstand the blow and died on the spot. Erast was unhappy until the end of his life. He did not deceive Lisa when he told her that he was going to the army, but, instead of fighting the enemy, he played cards and lost his entire fortune. He had to marry an elderly rich widow who had been in love with him for a long time. Having learned about Liza’s fate, he could not console himself and considered himself a murderer. Now, perhaps, they have already reconciled.

History of creation and publication

The story was written and published in 1792 in the Moscow Journal, the editor of which was N.M. Karamzin himself. In 1796 " Poor Lisa"was published in a separate book.

Plot

After the death of her father, a “prosperous villager,” young Lisa is forced to work tirelessly to feed herself and her mother. In the spring, she sells lilies of the valley in Moscow and there she meets the young nobleman Erast, who falls in love with her and is even ready to leave the world for the sake of his love. The lovers spend all their evenings together. However, with the loss of her innocence, Lisa lost her attractiveness for Erast. One day he reports that he must go on a campaign with the regiment, and they will have to part. A few days later, Erast leaves.

Several months pass. Liza, once in Moscow, accidentally sees Erast in a magnificent carriage and finds out that he is engaged (During the war, he lost his estate at cards and now, having returned, he is forced to marry a rich widow). In despair, Lisa throws herself into the pond near which they were walking.

Artistic originality

The plot of this story was borrowed by Karamzin from the European love literature, however, transferred to “Russian” soil. The author hints that he personally knows Erast (“I met him a year before his death. He himself told me this story and led me to Lisa’s grave”) and emphasizes that the action takes place in Moscow and its environs, describes, for example , Simonov and Danilov monasteries, Vorobyovy Gory, creating the illusion of authenticity. This was an innovation for Russian literature of that time: usually the action of works took place “in one city.” The first readers of the story perceived Lisa's story as a real tragedy of a contemporary - it is no coincidence that the pond under the walls of the Simonov Monastery was named Liza's Pond, and the fate of Karamzin's heroine received a lot of imitations. The oak trees growing around the pond were covered with inscriptions - touching ( “In these streams, poor Lisa passed away her days; If you are sensitive, passer-by, sigh!”) and caustic ( “Here Erast’s bride threw herself into the water. Drown yourself, girls, there’s enough room for everyone in the pond!”) .

However, despite the apparent plausibility, the world depicted in the story is idyllic: the peasant woman Liza and her mother have refinement of feelings and perceptions, their speech is literate, literary and no different from the speech of the nobleman Erast. The life of poor villagers resembles a pastoral:

Meanwhile, a young shepherd was driving his flock along the river bank, playing the pipe. Lisa fixed her gaze on him and thought: “If the one who now occupies my thoughts was born a simple peasant, a shepherd, - and if he were now driving his flock past me: ah! I would bow to him with a smile and say affably: “Hello, dear shepherd!” Where are you driving your flock? And here green grass grows for your sheep, and here flowers grow red, from which you can weave a wreath for your hat.” He would look at me with an affectionate look - maybe he would take my hand... A dream! A shepherd, playing the flute, passed by and disappeared with his motley flock behind a nearby hill.

The story became an example of Russian sentimental literature. In contrast to classicism with its cult of reason, Karamzin affirmed the cult of feelings, sensitivity, compassion: “Ah! I love those objects that touch my heart and make me shed tears of tender sorrow!” . Heroes are important first of all for their ability to love and surrender to feelings. There is no class conflict in the story: Karamzin in equally sympathizes with both Erast and Lisa. In addition, unlike the works of classicism, “Poor Liza” is devoid of morality, didacticism, and edification: the author does not teach, but tries to evoke empathy for the characters in the reader.

The story is also distinguished by its “smooth” language: Karamzin abandoned Old Slavonicisms and pomposity, which made the work easy to read.

Criticism about the story

“Poor Liza” was received by the Russian public with such enthusiasm because in this work Karamzin was the first to express the “new word” that Goethe said to the Germans in his “Werther.” The heroine’s suicide was such a “new word” in the story. The Russian public, accustomed in old novels to consoling endings in the form of weddings, who believed that virtue is always rewarded and vice is punished, for the first time in this story met the bitter truth of life.

"Poor Lisa" in art

In painting

Literary reminiscences

Dramatizations

Film adaptations

1967 - “Poor Liza” (television play), directed by Natalya Barinova, David Livnev, starring: Anastasia Voznesenskaya, Andrei Myagkov.
- “Poor Lisa”, director Idea Garanina, composer Alexey Rybnikov
- “Poor Lisa”, directed by Slava Tsukerman, starring Irina Kupchenko, Mikhail Ulyanov.

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Literature

Toporov V. N. 1 // “Poor Liza” by Karamzin: Reading experience: To the bicentenary of its publication = Liza. - Moscow: Russian State University for the Humanities, 1995.

Notes

Excerpt characterizing Poor Lisa

– In the mosaic briefcase that he keeps under his pillow. “Now I know,” said the princess without answering. “Yes, if there is a sin behind me, a great sin, then it is hatred of this scoundrel,” the princess almost shouted, completely changed. - And why is she rubbing herself in here? But I will tell her everything, everything. The time will come!

While such conversations took place in the reception room and in the princess's rooms, the carriage with Pierre (who was sent for) and with Anna Mikhailovna (who found it necessary to go with him) drove into the courtyard of Count Bezukhy. When the wheels of the carriage sounded softly on the straw spread under the windows, Anna Mikhailovna, turning to her companion with comforting words, was convinced that he was sleeping in the corner of the carriage, and woke him up. Having woken up, Pierre followed Anna Mikhailovna out of the carriage and then only thought about the meeting with his dying father that awaited him. He noticed that they drove up not to the front entrance, but to the back entrance. While he was getting off the step, two people in bourgeois clothes hurriedly ran away from the entrance into the shadow of the wall. Pausing, Pierre saw several more of the same people in the shadows of the house on both sides. But neither Anna Mikhailovna, nor the footman, nor the coachman, who could not help but see these people, paid no attention to them. Therefore, this is so necessary, Pierre decided to himself and followed Anna Mikhailovna. Anna Mikhailovna walked with hasty steps up the dimly lit narrow stone staircase, calling to Pierre, who was lagging behind her, who, although he did not understand why he had to go to the count at all, and even less why he had to go up the back stairs, but , judging by the confidence and haste of Anna Mikhailovna, he decided to himself that this was necessary. Halfway up the stairs, they were almost knocked down by some people with buckets, who, clattering with their boots, ran towards them. These people pressed against the wall to let Pierre and Anna Mikhailovna through, and did not show the slightest surprise at the sight of them.
– Are there half princesses here? – Anna Mikhailovna asked one of them...
“Here,” answered the footman to the brave ones, in a loud voice, as if now everything was already possible - the door to the left, mother.
“Maybe the count didn’t call me,” Pierre said as he walked out onto the platform, “I would have gone to my place.”
Anna Mikhailovna stopped to catch up with Pierre.
- Ah, mon ami! - she said with the same gesture as in the morning with her son, touching his hand: - croyez, que je souffre autant, que vous, mais soyez homme. [Believe me, I suffer no less than you, but be a man.]
- Right, I'll go? - asked Pierre, looking affectionately through his glasses at Anna Mikhailovna.
- Ah, mon ami, oubliez les torts qu"on a pu avoir envers vous, pensez que c"est votre pere... peut etre a l"agonie. - She sighed. - Je vous ai tout de suite aime comme mon fils. Fiez vous a moi, Pierre. [Forget, my friend, what was wronged against you. Remember that this is your father... Maybe in agony. I immediately loved you like a son. Trust me, Pierre. I will not forget your interests.]
Pierre did not understand anything; again it seemed to him even more strongly that all this should be so, and he obediently followed Anna Mikhailovna, who was already opening the door.
The door opened into the front and back. An old servant of the princesses sat in the corner and knitted a stocking. Pierre had never been to this half, did not even imagine the existence of such chambers. Anna Mikhailovna asked the girl who was ahead of them, with a decanter on a tray (calling her sweet and darling) about the health of the princesses and dragged Pierre further along the stone corridor. From the corridor, the first door to the left led to the princesses' living rooms. The maid, with the decanter, in a hurry (as everything was done in a hurry at that moment in this house) did not close the door, and Pierre and Anna Mikhailovna, passing by, involuntarily looked into the room where the eldest princess and Prince Vasily. Seeing those passing by, Prince Vasily made an impatient movement and leaned back; The princess jumped up and with a desperate gesture slammed the door with all her might, closing it.
This gesture was so unlike the princess’s usual calmness, the fear expressed on Prince Vasily’s face was so uncharacteristic of his importance that Pierre stopped, questioningly, through his glasses, looked at his leader.
Anna Mikhailovna did not express surprise, she only smiled slightly and sighed, as if showing that she had expected all this.
“Soyez homme, mon ami, c"est moi qui veillerai a vos interets, [Be a man, my friend, I will look after your interests.] - she said in response to his gaze and walked even faster down the corridor.
Pierre did not understand what the matter was, and even less what veiller a vos interets meant, [to look after your interests,] but he understood that all this should be so. They walked through the corridor into a dimly lit hall adjacent to the count's reception room. It was one of those cold and luxurious rooms that Pierre knew from the front porch. But even in this room, in the middle, there was an empty bathtub and water was spilled on the carpet. A servant and a clerk with a censer came out to meet them on tiptoe, not paying attention to them. They entered a reception room familiar to Pierre with two Italian windows, access to the winter garden, with a large bust and a full-length portrait of Catherine. All the same people, in almost the same positions, sat whispering in the waiting room. Everyone fell silent and looked back at Anna Mikhailovna who had entered, with her tear-stained, pale face, and at the fat, big Pierre, who, with his head down, obediently followed her.
Anna Mikhailovna's face expressed the consciousness that the decisive moment had arrived; She, with the manner of a businesslike St. Petersburg lady, entered the room, not letting Pierre go, even bolder than in the morning. She felt that since she was leading the one whom the dying man wanted to see, her reception was guaranteed. Taking a quick look at everyone in the room and noticing the count's confessor, she not only bent over, but suddenly became shorter, with a shallow amble, swam up to the confessor and respectfully accepted the blessing of one, then another clergyman.
“Thank God we made it,” she said to the clergyman, “all of us, my family, were so afraid.” This young man is the count’s son,” she added more quietly. - A terrible moment!
Having uttered these words, she approached the doctor.
“Cher docteur,” she told him, “ce jeune homme est le fils du comte... y a t il de l"espoir? [This young man is the son of a count... Is there hope?]
The doctor silently, with a quick movement, raised his eyes and shoulders upward. Anna Mikhailovna raised her shoulders and eyes with exactly the same movement, almost closing them, sighed and walked away from the doctor to Pierre. She turned especially respectfully and tenderly sadly to Pierre.
“Ayez confiance en Sa misericorde, [Trust in His mercy,”] she told him, showing him a sofa to sit down to wait for her, she quietly walked towards the door that everyone was looking at, and following the barely audible sound of this door, disappeared behind it.
Pierre, having decided to obey his leader in everything, went to the sofa that she showed him. As soon as Anna Mikhailovna disappeared, he noticed that the glances of everyone in the room turned to him with more than curiosity and sympathy. He noticed that everyone was whispering, pointing at him with their eyes, as if with fear and even servility. He was shown respect that had never been shown before: a lady unknown to him, who was speaking with the clergy, stood up from her seat and invited him to sit down, the adjutant picked up the glove that Pierre had dropped and handed it to him; the doctors fell silent respectfully as he passed them, and stood aside to give him room. Pierre wanted to sit in another place first, so as not to embarrass the lady, he wanted to lift his glove himself and go around the doctors, who were not standing in the road at all; but he suddenly felt that this would be indecent, he felt that this night he was a person who was obliged to perform some terrible ritual expected by everyone, and that therefore he had to accept services from everyone. He silently accepted the glove from the adjutant, sat down in the lady's place, putting his big hands on his symmetrically extended knees, in the naive pose of an Egyptian statue, and decided to himself that all this should be exactly like this and that this evening, in order not to get lost and not do anything stupid, he should not act according to his own considerations, but should be left to himself completely at the will of those who led him.

Perhaps no one living in Moscow knows the surroundings of this city as well as I do, because no one is in the field more often than me, no one more than me wanders on foot, without a plan, without a goal - wherever the eyes look - through the meadows and groves , over hills and plains. Every summer I find new pleasant places or new beauty in old ones. But the most pleasant place for me is the place where the gloomy, Gothic towers of the Sin...nova Monastery rise. Standing on this mountain, you see right side almost all of Moscow, this terrible mass of houses and churches, which appears to the eye in the image of a majestic amphitheater: a magnificent picture, especially when the sun shines on it, when its evening rays glow on countless golden domes, on countless crosses ascending to the sky! Below are lush, densely green flowering meadows, and behind them, along the yellow sands, flows a bright river, agitated by the light oars of fishing boats or rustling under the helm of heavy plows that sail from the most fruitful countries Russian Empire and provide greedy Moscow with bread. On the other side of the river one can see an oak grove, near which numerous herds graze; there young shepherds, sitting under the shade of trees, sing simple, sad songs and thus shorten the summer days, so uniform for them. Further away, in the dense greenery of ancient elms, the golden-domed Danilov Monastery shines; even further, almost at the edge of the horizon, the Sparrow Hills are blue. On the left side you can see vast fields covered with grain, forests, three or four villages and in the distance the village of Kolomenskoye with its high palace. I often come to this place and almost always see spring there; I come there and grieve with nature on the dark days of autumn. The winds howl terribly within the walls of the deserted monastery, between the coffins overgrown with tall grass, and in the dark passages of the cells. There, leaning on the ruins of tombstones, I listen to the dull groan of times, swallowed up by the abyss of the past, a groan from which my heart shudders and trembles. Sometimes I enter cells and imagine those who lived in them - sad pictures! Here I see a gray-haired old man, kneeling before the crucifix and praying for a quick release from his earthly shackles, for all the pleasures in life had disappeared for him, all his feelings had died, except for the feeling of illness and weakness. There a young monk - with a pale face, with a languid gaze - looks into the field through the lattice of the window, sees cheerful birds swimming freely in the sea of air, sees - and sheds bitter tears from his eyes. He languishes, withers, dries up - and the sad ringing of a bell announces to me his untimely death. Sometimes on the gates of the temple I look at the image of miracles that happened in this monastery, where fish fall from the sky to feed the inhabitants of the monastery, besieged by numerous enemies; here the image of the Mother of God puts the enemies to flight. All this renews the history of our fatherland in my memory - sad story those times when the ferocious Tatars and Lithuanians devastated the outskirts of the Russian capital with fire and sword and when unfortunate Moscow, like a defenseless widow, expected help from God alone in its cruel disasters. But what most often attracts me to the walls of the Sinova Monastery is the memory of the deplorable fate of Lisa, poor Lisa. Oh! I love those objects that touch my heart and make me shed tears of tender sorrow! Seventy yards from the monastery wall, near a birch grove, in the middle of a green meadow, there stands an empty hut, without doors, without endings, without a floor; the roof had long since rotted and collapsed. In this hut thirty years before, the beautiful, amiable Liza lived with her old woman, her mother. Lizin's father was a fairly prosperous villager, because he loved work, plowed the land well and always led a sober life. But soon after his death, his wife and daughter became poor. The lazy hand of the mercenary poorly cultivated the field, and the grain ceased to be produced well. They were forced to rent out their land, and for very little money. Moreover, the poor widow, almost constantly shedding tears over the death of her husband - for even peasant women know how to love! — day by day she became weak and could not work at all. Only Lisa, who remained after her father for fifteen years, only Lisa, not sparing her tender youth, not sparing her rare beauty, worked day and night - weaving canvases, knitting stockings, picking flowers in the spring, and taking berries in the summer - and selling them in Moscow. The sensitive, kind old woman, seeing her daughter’s tirelessness, often pressed her to her weakly beating heart, called her divine mercy, nurse, the joy of her old age, and prayed to God to reward her for all that she does for her mother. “God gave me hands to work,” said Lisa, “you fed me with your breasts and followed me when I was a child; Now it’s my turn to walk on you. Just stop breaking down, stop crying: our tears will not revive the priests.” But often tender Liza could not hold back her own tears - ah! she remembered that she had a father and that he was gone, but to reassure her mother she tried to hide the sadness of her heart and appear calm and cheerful. “In the next world, dear Liza,” answered the sad old woman, “in the next world I will stop crying. There, they say, everyone will be happy; I will probably be happy when I see your father. Only now I don’t want to die - what will happen to you without me? To whom should I leave you? No, God grant that we get you a place first! Maybe it will be found soon kind person. Then, having blessed you, my dear children, I will cross myself and calmly lie down in the damp earth.” Two years have passed since the death of Lizin's father. The meadows were covered with flowers, and Lisa came to Moscow with lilies of the valley. A young, well-dressed, pleasant-looking man met her on the street. She showed him the flowers and blushed. “Are you selling them, girl?” - he asked with a smile. “I’m selling,” she answered. - “What do you need?” - “Five kopecks.” - “It's too cheap. Here's a ruble for you." - Lisa was surprised, she dared to look at the young man, she blushed even more and, looking down at the ground, told him that she would not take the ruble. - “For what?” - “I don’t need anything extra.” “I think that beautiful lilies of the valley, plucked by the hands of a beautiful girl, are worth a ruble. When you don’t take it, here’s your five kopecks. I would like to always buy flowers from you: I would like you to pick them just for me.” “Lisa gave the flowers, took five kopecks, bowed and wanted to go, but the stranger stopped her with his hand. - “Where are you going, girl?” - “Home.” - “Where is your house?” — Lisa said where she lives, she said it and went. The young man did not want to hold her, perhaps because those passing by began to stop and, looking at them, grinned insidiously. When Lisa came home, she told her mother what had happened to her. “You did well not to take the ruble. Maybe it was some bad person...” - “Oh no, mother! I don't think so. He has such a kind face, such a voice...” - “However, Liza, it’s better to feed yourself by your labors and not take anything for nothing. You don’t know yet, my friend, how evil people They might offend the poor girl! My heart is always out of place when you go to town; I always put a candle in front of the image and pray to the Lord God that he will protect you from all trouble and adversity.” — Liza had tears in her eyes; she kissed her mother. The next day Lisa picked the best lilies of the valley and again went into town with them. Her eyes were quietly searching for something. Many wanted to buy flowers from her, but she replied that they were not for sale, and looked first in one direction or the other. Evening came, it was time to return home, and the flowers were thrown into the Moscow River. “No one owns you!” - said Lisa, feeling some sadness in her heart. “The next evening she was sitting under the window, spinning and singing plaintive songs in a quiet voice, but suddenly she jumped up and shouted: “Ah!..” A young stranger stood under the window. “What happened to you?” - asked the frightened mother, who was sitting next to her. “Nothing, mother,” answered Lisa in a timid voice, “I just saw him.” - "Whom?" - “The gentleman who bought flowers from me.” The old woman looked out the window. The young man bowed to her so courteously, with such a pleasant air, that she could not think anything but good things about him. “Hello, kind old lady! - he said. - I'm very tired; Do you have any fresh milk? The helpful Liza, without waiting for an answer from her mother - perhaps because she knew it in advance - ran to the cellar - brought a clean jar covered with a clean wooden mug - grabbed a glass, washed it, wiped it with a white towel, poured it and served it out the window, but she was looking at the ground. The stranger drank, and the nectar from Hebe’s hands could not have seemed tastier to him. Everyone will guess that after that he thanked Lisa and thanked her not so much with words as with his eyes. Meanwhile, the good-natured old woman managed to tell him about her grief and consolation - about the death of her husband and about the sweet qualities of her daughter, about her hard work and tenderness, and so on. and so on. He listened to her with attention, but his eyes were - need I say where? And Liza, timid Liza, glanced occasionally at the young man; but the lightning flashes not so quickly and disappears in the cloud, as quickly Blue eyes they turned to the ground, meeting his gaze. “I would like,” he said to his mother, “for your daughter not to sell her work to anyone but me. Thus, she will have no need to go to the city often, and you will not be forced to part with her. I can come and see you from time to time.” “Here a joy flashed in Liza’s eyes, which she tried in vain to hide; her cheeks glowed like dawn on a clear summer evening; she looked at her left sleeve and pinched it right hand. The old woman willingly accepted this offer, not suspecting any bad intention in it, and assured the stranger that the linen woven by Lisa, and the stockings knitted by Lisa, were excellent and last longer than any others. — It was getting dark, and the young man wanted to go. “What should we call you, kind, gentle gentleman?” - asked the old woman. “My name is Erast,” he answered. “Erastom,” said Lisa quietly, “Erastom!” She repeated this name five times, as if trying to solidify it. - Erast said goodbye to them and left. Lisa followed him with her eyes, and the mother sat in thought and, taking her daughter by the hand, said to her: “Oh, Lisa! How good and kind he is! If only your groom were like that!” Liza's heart began to tremble. "Mother! Mother! How can this happen? He’s a gentleman, and among the peasants...” Lisa didn’t finish her speech. Now the reader should know that this young man, this Erast, was a rather rich nobleman, with a fair mind and a kind heart, kind by nature, but weak and flighty. He led an absent-minded life, thought only about his own pleasure, looked for it in secular amusements, but often did not find it: he was bored and complained about his fate. Lisa's beauty made an impression on his heart at the first meeting. He read novels, idylls, had a fairly vivid imagination and often moved mentally to those times (former or not), in which, according to the poets, all people carelessly walked through meadows, bathed in clean springs, kissed like turtle doves, rested under They spent all their days with roses and myrtles and in happy idleness. It seemed to him that he had found in Lisa what his heart had been looking for for a long time. “Nature calls me into her arms, to her pure joys,” he thought and decided - at least for a while - to leave the big world. Let's turn to Lisa. Night came - the mother blessed her daughter and wished her a gentle sleep, but this time her wish was not fulfilled: Lisa slept very poorly. New guest of her soul, the image of the Erasts was so vividly imagined to her that she woke up almost every minute, woke up and sighed. Even before the sun rose, Lisa got up, went down to the bank of the Moscow River, sat down on the grass and, saddened, looked at the white mists that were agitated in the air and, rising up, left shiny drops on the green cover of nature. Silence reigned everywhere. But soon the rising luminary of the day awakened all creation: the groves and bushes came to life, the birds fluttered and sang, the flowers raised their heads to be saturated with the life-giving rays of light. But Lisa still sat there, saddened. Oh, Lisa, Lisa! What happened to you? Until now, waking up with the birds, you had fun with them in the morning, and a pure, joyful soul shone in your eyes, like the sun shines in drops of heavenly dew; but now you are thoughtful, and the general joy of nature is alien to your heart. — Meanwhile, a young shepherd was driving his flock along the river bank, playing the pipe. Lisa fixed her gaze on him and thought: “If the one who now occupies my thoughts was born a simple peasant, a shepherd, and if he were now driving his flock past me: ah! I would bow to him with a smile and say affably: “Hello, dear shepherd!” Where are you driving your flock? And it grows here green grass for your sheep, and here there are red flowers from which you can weave a wreath for your hat.” He would look at me with an affectionate look - perhaps he would take my hand... A dream! A shepherd, playing the flute, passed by and disappeared with his motley flock behind a nearby hill. Suddenly Lisa heard the sound of oars - she looked at the river and saw a boat, and in the boat - Erast. All the veins in her were clogged, and, of course, not from fear. She got up and wanted to go, but she couldn’t. Erast jumped out onto the shore, approached Lisa and - her dream was partly fulfilled: for he looked at her with an affectionate look, took her hand... And Liza, Liza stood with downcast eyes, with fiery cheeks, with a trembling heart - she could not take her hand away from him - she could not turn away when he approached her with pink lips with your own... Ah! He kissed her, kissed her with such fervor that the whole universe seemed to her to be on fire! “Dear Lisa! - said Erast. - Dear Lisa! I love you,” and these words echoed in the depths of her soul like heavenly, delightful music; she hardly dared to believe her ears and... But I throw down the brush. I will only say that at that moment of delight Liza’s timidity disappeared - Erast learned that he was loved, loved passionately with a new, pure, open heart. They sat on the grass, and so that there was not much space between them, they looked into each other’s eyes, said to each other: “Love me!”, and two hours seemed like an instant to them. Finally Lisa remembered that her mother might worry about her. It was necessary to separate. “Ah, Erast! - she said. “Will you always love me?” - “Always, dear Lisa, always!” - he answered. - “And can you swear an oath to me about this?” - “I can, dear Lisa, I can!” - "No! I don't need an oath. I believe you, Erast, I believe you. Are you really going to deceive poor Liza? Surely this can’t happen?” - “You can’t, you can’t, dear Lisa!” - “How happy I am, and how happy my mother will be when she finds out that you love me!” - “Oh no, Lisa! She doesn’t need to say anything.” - “For what?” - “Old people can be suspicious. She will imagine something bad.” - “It can’t happen.” - “However, I ask you not to say a word to her about this.” - “Okay: I need to listen to you, although I wouldn’t want to hide anything from her.” - They said goodbye, kissed last time and they promised to see each other every day in the evening, either on the bank of the rock, or in the birch grove, or somewhere near Liza’s hut, just to be sure, they would definitely see each other. Lisa went, but her eyes turned a hundred times to Erast, who was still standing on the shore and looking after her. Lisa returned to her hut in a completely different state from the one in which she left it. Heartfelt joy was revealed on her face and in all her movements. “He loves me!” - she thought and admired this thought. “Oh, mother! - Lisa said to her mother, who had just woken up. - Oh, mother! What a wonderful morning! How fun everything is in the field! Never have larks sung so well, never has the sun shone so brightly, never have flowers smelled so pleasant!” - The old woman, propped up with a stick, went out into the meadow to enjoy the morning, which Lisa described in such lovely colors. It, in fact, seemed to her extremely pleasant; the kind daughter cheered up her whole nature with her joy. “Oh, Lisa! - she said. - How good everything is with the Lord God! I’m sixty years old in the world, and I still can’t get enough of the works of God, I can’t get enough of the clear sky, which looks like a high tent, and the earth, which is covered with new grass and new flowers every year. It is necessary for the king of heaven to love a person very much when he removed the local light so well for him. Ah, Lisa! Who would want to die if sometimes we didn’t have grief?.. Apparently, it’s necessary. Maybe we would forget our souls if tears never fell from our eyes.” And Lisa thought: “Ah! I would sooner forget my soul than my dear friend!” After this, Erast and Liza, afraid of not keeping their word, saw each other every evening (while Liza’s mother went to bed) either on the river bank, or in a birch grove, but most often under the shade of hundred-year-old oak trees (eighty fathoms from the hut) - oaks , overshadowing a deep, clear pond, fossilized in ancient times. There, the often quiet moon, through the green branches, silvered Liza’s blond hair with its rays, with which the zephyrs and the hand of a dear friend played; often these rays illuminated in the eyes of tender Liza a brilliant tear of love, always dried with Erast’s kiss. They hugged - but chaste, bashful Cynthia did not hide from them behind a cloud: their embrace was pure and immaculate. “When you,” said Lisa to Erast, “when you tell me: “I love you, my friend!”, when you press me to your heart and look at me with your touching eyes, ah! Then it happens to me so good, so good that I forget myself, I forget everything except Erast. Wonderful! It’s wonderful, my friend, that without knowing you, I could live calmly and cheerfully! Now I don’t understand this, now I think that without you life is not life, but sadness and boredom. Without your eyes the bright month is dark; without your voice the nightingale singing is boring; without your breath the breeze is unpleasant to me.” “Erast admired his shepherdess—that’s what he called Liza—and, seeing how much she loved him, he seemed more kind to himself. All the brilliant amusements of the great world seemed insignificant to him in comparison with the pleasures that passionate friendship an innocent soul fed his heart. With disgust he thought about the contemptuous voluptuousness with which his feelings had previously reveled. “I will live with Liza, like brother and sister,” he thought, “I will not use her love for evil and I will always be happy!” - Reckless young man! Do you know your heart? Can you always be responsible for your movements? Is reason always the king of your feelings? Lisa demanded that Erast often visit her mother. “I love her,” she said, “and I want the best for her, and it seems to me that seeing you is a great blessing for everyone.” The old lady was really always happy when she saw him. She loved to talk with him about her late husband and tell him about the days of her youth, about how she first met her dear Ivan, how he fell in love with her and in what love, in what harmony he lived with her. "Oh! We could never look at each other enough - until the very hour when cruel death crushed his legs. He died in my arms!” “Erast listened to her with unfeigned pleasure. He bought Liza’s work from her and always wanted to pay ten times more than the price she set, but the old woman never took extra. Several weeks passed in this way. One evening Erast waited a long time for his Lisa. Finally she came, but she was so sad that he was afraid; her eyes turned red from tears. “Lisa, Lisa! What happened to you? - “Ah, Erast! I cried! - "About what? What's happened?" - “I have to tell you everything. A groom is wooing me, the son of a rich peasant from a neighboring village; Mother wants me to marry him.” - “And you agree?” - "Cruel! Can you ask about this? Yes, I feel sorry for mother; she cries and says that I don’t want her peace of mind, that she will suffer at the point of death if she doesn’t marry me off with her. Oh! Mother doesn’t know that I have such a dear friend!” “Erast kissed Lisa and said that her happiness was dearer to him than anything in the world, that after her mother’s death he would take her to him and live with her inseparably, in the village and in the dense forests, as if in paradise. - “However, you cannot be my husband!” - Lisa said with a quiet sigh. - “Why?” - “I am a peasant woman.” - “You offend me. For your friend, the most important thing is the soul, the sensitive, innocent soul, and Lisa will always be closest to my heart.” She threw herself into his arms - and at this hour her integrity had to perish! - Erast felt an extraordinary excitement in his blood - Liza had never seemed so charming to him - never had her caresses touched him so much - never had her kisses been so fiery - she knew nothing, suspected nothing, was afraid of nothing - the darkness of the evening fed desires - not a single star shone in the sky - no ray could illuminate the delusions. - Erast feels awe in himself - Lisa also, not knowing why - not knowing what is happening to her... Ah, Lisa, Lisa! Where is your guardian angel? Where is your innocence? The delusion passed in one minute. Lila did not understand her feelings, she was surprised and asked. Erast was silent - he searched for words and did not find them. “Oh, I’m afraid,” said Lisa, “I’m afraid of what happened to us! It seemed to me that I was dying, that my soul... No, I don’t know how to say this!.. Are you silent, Erast? Are you sighing?.. My God! What's happened?" — Meanwhile, lightning flashed and thunder roared. Lisa trembled all over. “Erast, Erast! - she said. - I'm scared! I’m afraid that thunder will kill me like a criminal!” The storm roared menacingly, rain poured from black clouds - it seemed that nature was lamenting about Liza’s lost innocence. “Erast tried to calm Lisa down and walked her to the hut. Tears rolled from her eyes as she said goodbye to him. “Ah, Erast! Assure me that we will continue to be happy!” - “We will, Lisa, we will!” - he answered. - “God willing! I can’t help but believe your words: after all, I love you! Only in my heart... But it’s complete! Sorry! Tomorrow, tomorrow, see you." Their dates continued; but how everything has changed! Erast could no longer be satisfied with just the innocent caresses of his Lisa - just her glances filled with love - just one touch of the hand, just one kiss, just one pure embrace. He wanted more, more, and finally could not desire anything - and whoever knows his heart, who has reflected on the nature of his most tender pleasures, will, of course, agree with me that fulfillment everyone desires are the most dangerous temptation of love. For Erast, Lisa was no longer that angel of purity that had previously inflamed his imagination and delighted his soul. Platonic love gave way to feelings that he could not be proud and which were no longer new to him. As for Lisa, she, completely surrendering to him, only lived and breathed him, in everything, like a lamb, she obeyed his will and placed her happiness in his pleasure. She saw a change in him and often told him: “Before you were more cheerful, before we were calmer and happier, and before I was not so afraid of losing your love!” “Sometimes, saying goodbye to her, he told her: “Tomorrow, Liza, I can’t see you: I have something important to do,” and every time at these words Liza sighed. Finally, for five days in a row she did not see him and was in the greatest anxiety; at the sixth he came with a sad face and said to her: “Dear Liza! I have to say goodbye to you for a while. You know that we are at war, I am in the service, my regiment is going on campaign.” - Lisa turned pale and almost fainted. Erast caressed her, said that he would always love dear Liza and hoped that upon his return he would never part with her. She was silent for a long time, then burst into bitter tears, grabbed his hand and, looking at him with all the tenderness of love, asked: “Can’t you stay?” “I can,” he answered, “but only with the greatest dishonor, with the greatest stain on my honor. Everyone will despise me; everyone will abhor me as a coward, as an unworthy son of the fatherland.” “Oh, when that’s the case,” said Lisa, “then go, go where God tells you to go!” But they can kill you." - “Death for the fatherland is not terrible, dear Liza.” - “I will die as soon as you are no longer in the world.” - “But why think about it? I hope to stay alive, I hope to return to you, my friend.” - “God willing! God forbid! Every day, every hour I will pray about it. Oh, why can’t I read or write! You would notify me about everything that happens to you, and I would write to you about my tears!” - “No, take care of yourself, Lisa, take care of your friend. I don’t want you to cry without me.” - “Cruel man! You are thinking of depriving me of this joy too! No! Having parted with you, will I stop crying when my heart dries up? - “Think about the pleasant moment in which we will see each other again.” - “I will, I will think about her! Oh, if only she had come sooner! Dear, dear Erast! Remember, remember your poor Liza, who loves you more than herself!” But I cannot describe everything that they said on this occasion. The next day was supposed to be the last date. Erast wanted to say goodbye to Liza’s mother, who could not hold back tears when she heard that affectionate, handsome gentleman she must go to war. He forced her to take some money from him, saying: “I don’t want Lisa to sell her work in my absence, which, by agreement, belongs to me.” — The old lady showered him with blessings. “God grant,” she said, “that you return to us safely and that I see you again in this life! Perhaps by that time my Lisa will find a groom according to her thoughts. How I would thank God if you came to our wedding! When Lisa has children, know, master, that you must baptize them! Oh! I would really like to live to see this!” “Lisa stood next to her mother and did not dare look at her. The reader can easily imagine what she felt at that moment. But what did she feel then when Erast, hugging her and pressing her to his heart for the last time, said: “Forgive me, Lisa!” What a touching picture! The morning dawn, like a scarlet sea, spread across the eastern sky. Erast stood under the branches of a tall oak tree, holding in his arms his pale, languid, sorrowful girlfriend, who, saying goodbye to him, said goodbye to her soul. The whole nature was silent. Lisa sobbed - Erast cried - left her - she fell - knelt down, raised her hands to the sky and looked at Erast, who moved away - further - further - and finally disappeared - the sun rose, and Lisa, abandoned, poor, lost her feelings and memory . She came to her senses - and the light seemed dull and sad to her. All the pleasant things of nature were hidden for her along with those dear to her heart. "Oh! - she thought. - Why did I stay in this desert? What keeps me from flying after dear Erast? War is not scary for me; It's scary where my friend is not there. I want to live with him, I want to die with him, or I want to save his precious life with my death. Wait, wait, my dear! I'm flying to you! “She already wanted to run after Erast, but the thought: “I have a mother!” - stopped her. Lisa sighed and, bowing her head, walked with quiet steps towards her hut. “From that hour, her days were days of melancholy and sorrow, which had to be hidden from her tender mother: all the more did her heart suffer!” Then it only became easier when Lisa, secluded in the dense forest, could freely shed tears and moan about separation from her beloved. Often the sad turtledove combined his plaintive voice with her moaning. But sometimes - although very rarely - a golden ray of hope, a ray of consolation, illuminated the darkness of her sorrow. “When he returns to me, how happy I will be! How everything will change! - from this thought her gaze cleared, the roses on her cheeks were refreshed, and Lisa smiled like a May morning after a stormy night. — Thus, about two months passed. One day Lisa had to go to Moscow to buy rose water, which her mother used to treat her eyes. On one of the big streets she met a magnificent carriage, and in this carriage she saw Erast. "Oh!" - Liza screamed and rushed towards him, but the carriage drove past and turned into the yard. Erast came out and was about to go to the porch huge house, when suddenly I felt myself in Lisa’s arms. He turned pale - then, without answering a word to her exclamations, he took her hand, led her into his office, locked the door and told her: “Lisa! Circumstances have changed; I am engaged to get married; you should leave me alone and for your own peace of mind forget me. I loved you and now I love you, that is, I wish you all the best. Here are a hundred rubles - take them,” he put the money in her pocket, “let me kiss you for the last time - and go home.” - Before Lisa could come to her senses, he took her out of the office and said to the servant: “Escort this girl from the yard.” My heart is bleeding at this very moment. I forget the man in Erast - I’m ready to curse him - but my tongue does not move - I look at the sky, and a tear rolls down my face. Oh! Why am I writing not a novel, but a sad true story? So, Erast deceived Lisa by telling her that he was going to the army? - No, he really was in the army, but instead of fighting the enemy, he played cards and lost almost all his estate. Peace was soon concluded, and Erast returned to Moscow, burdened with debts. He had only one way to improve his circumstances - to marry an elderly rich widow who had long been in love with him. He decided to do so and moved to live in her house, dedicating a sincere sigh to his Lisa. But can all this justify him? Lisa found herself on the street and in a position that no pen could describe. “He, he kicked me out? Does he love someone else? I'm dead! - these are her thoughts, her feelings! A severe faint interrupted them for a while. One kind woman who was walking down the street stopped over Liza, who was lying on the ground, and tried to bring her to memory. The unfortunate woman opened her eyes and stood up with the help of this kind woman, - thanked her and went, not knowing where. “I can’t live,” thought Lisa, “I can’t!.. Oh, if only the sky would fall on me!” If the earth swallowed up the poor!.. No! the sky is not falling; the earth does not shake! Woe is me!" “She left the city and suddenly saw herself on the shore of a deep pond, under the shade of ancient oak trees, which a few weeks before had been silent witnesses to her delight. This memory shook her soul; the most terrible heartache was depicted on her face. But after a few minutes she fell into some thoughtfulness - she looked around her, saw her neighbor’s daughter (a fifteen-year-old girl) walking along the road - she called her, took ten imperials out of her pocket and, handing them to her, said: “Dear Anyuta, dear friend! Take this money to your mother - it is not stolen - tell her that Liza is guilty against her, that I hid from her my love for one cruel man - for E... What is the use of knowing his name? - Say that he cheated on me, - ask her to forgive me, - God will be her helper, - kiss her hand as I now kiss yours, - say that poor Liza ordered me to kiss her, - say that I ..." Then she threw herself into the water. Anyuta screamed and cried, but could not save her, she ran to the village - people gathered and pulled Lisa out, but she was already dead. Thus she ended her life, beautiful in body and soul. When we there, in a new life, see you, I recognize you, gentle Lisa! She was buried near a pond, under a gloomy oak tree, and a wooden cross was placed on her grave. Here I often sit in thought, leaning on the receptacle of Liza’s ashes; a pond flows in my eyes; The leaves rustle above me. Lisa's mother heard about the terrible death of her daughter, and her blood ran cold with horror - her eyes closed forever. — The hut is empty. The wind howls in it, and the superstitious villagers, hearing this noise at night, say: “There is a dead man moaning there: poor Lisa is moaning there!” Erast was unhappy until the end of his life. Having learned about Lizina’s fate, he could not console himself and considered himself a murderer. I met him a year before his death. He himself told me this story and led me to Lisa’s grave. - Now, maybe they have already reconciled!

One spring, two years after her father’s death, Lisa came to Moscow with lilies of the valley. A young, well-dressed man met her on the street. Having learned that she was selling flowers, he offered her a ruble instead of five kopecks, saying that “beautiful lilies of the valley, plucked by the hands of a beautiful girl, are worth a ruble.” But Lisa refused the offered amount. He did not insist, but said that in the future he would always buy flowers from her and would like her to pick them only for him.

Arriving home, Lisa told her mother everything, and the next day she picked the best lilies of the valley and came to the city again, but this time she did not meet the young man. Throwing flowers into the river, she returned home with sadness in her soul. The next day in the evening the stranger himself came to her house. As soon as she saw him, Lisa rushed to her mother and excitedly told him who was coming to them. The old woman met the guest, and he seemed to her to be a very kind and pleasant person. Erast—that was the young man’s name—confirmed that he was going to buy flowers from Lisa in the future, and she didn’t have to go into town: he could stop by to see them himself.

Erast was a rather rich nobleman, with a fair amount of intelligence and a naturally kind heart, but weak and flighty. He led an absent-minded life, thought only about his own pleasure, looked for it in secular amusements, and not finding it, he was bored and complained about fate. At the first meeting, Lisa’s immaculate beauty shocked him: it seemed to him that in her he found exactly what he had been looking for for a long time.

The delusion passed in one minute, giving way to surprise and fear. Lisa cried saying goodbye to Erast.

About two months passed like this. One day Lisa went to Moscow and on one of the big streets she saw Erast passing by in a magnificent carriage, which stopped near a huge house. Erast came out and was about to go out onto the porch, when he suddenly felt himself in Lisa’s arms. He turned pale, then, without saying a word, led her into the office and locked the door. Circumstances have changed, he announced to the girl, he is engaged.

Before Lisa could come to her senses, he took her out of the office and told the servant to escort her out of the yard.

Liza’s mother, having learned about her daughter’s terrible death, could not withstand the blow and died on the spot. Erast was unhappy until the end of his life. He did not deceive Lisa when he told her that he was going to the army, but, instead of fighting the enemy, he played cards and lost his entire fortune. He had to marry an elderly rich widow who had been in love with him for a long time. Having learned about Liza’s fate, he could not console himself and considered himself a murderer. Now, perhaps, they have already reconciled.

Once upon a time there lived a young and sweet girl, Lisa. Her wealthy father died, and Lisa was left with her mother to live in poverty. The unfortunate widow grew weaker every day and could no longer work. Lisa wove canvases day and night, knitted stockings, went to buy flowers in the spring, and picked berries in the summer, then sold them in Moscow.

Two years after her father's death, the girl went to the city to sell lilies of the valley and met a young man on the street. He offered a whole ruble for her goods instead of five kopecks, but the girl refused. The guy asked to always sell him flowers picked just for him.

When Lisa returned home, she told her mother about the stranger. In the morning she picked the most beautiful lilies of the valley, but did not meet the guy. Upset Lisa threw flowers into the river, and in the evening next day the young man himself came to her house.

Lisa and her mother greeted the guest. He seemed very nice and accommodating to them. The guy introduced himself as Erast and said that from now on he would become Lisa’s only buyer, and that the girl should no longer go to the city.

Erast was rich, smart, kind, but his character was weak and fickle. Lisa's beauty sank deeply into the nobleman's soul. Thus began their meetings and long dates. Several weeks passed and everything was fine with them, but one day Lisa came with sadness on her face. A rich groom began wooing her, and her mother decided to marry her off. Erast promised the girl to take her to him after the death of her mother, despite the fact that the peasant woman and the nobleman cannot be together. One more moment and the couple would have drowned in depravity, but delusion gave way to reason.

After some time, Erast went into the army, but promised to return and love the girl forever. But two months later, Lisa met Erast in the city and found out that he was engaged. Lisa was beside herself with grief. She walked down the street and reached a local deep pond. She stood there for a long time, lost in her thoughts. I saw a girl passing by and gave her all the money so that she would give it to her mother, and then rushed into the water.

Upon learning of her daughter's death, the old woman died on the spot. And Erast was unhappy until the end of his days. In the army, he played cards and lost his entire fortune, after which he had to marry an elderly rich widow to pay off the debt. He learned about Lisa's fate and felt guilty.

Many remember N.M. Karamzin based on his historical works. But he also did a lot for literature. It was through his efforts that a sentimental novel was developed, which describes not just ordinary people, but their feelings, suffering, experiences. brought closer ordinary people and the rich as feeling, thinking and experiencing the same emotions and needs. At the time in which “Poor Liza” was written, namely in 1792, the liberation of the peasants was still far away, and their existence seemed something incomprehensible and wild. Sentimentalism brought them into full-fledged feeling heroes.

History of creation

Important! He also introduced the fashion for little-known names - Erast and Elizabeth. Almost unused names quickly became household names that define a person’s character.

It was this seemingly simple and uncomplicated completely fictitious story of love and death that gave birth to a whole series imitators. And the pond was even a place of pilgrimage for unhappy lovers.

It's easy to remember what the story is about. After all, its plot is not rich or full of twists and turns. The summary of the story allows you to find out the main events. Karamzin himself summary I would convey it like this:

Left without a father, Lisa began to help her impoverished mother by selling flowers and berries.
Erast, captivated by her beauty and freshness, invites her to sell the goods only to him and then asks her not to go out at all, but to give him the goods from home. This one is rich, but a flighty nobleman falls in love with Lisa. They begin to spend evenings alone.
Soon a wealthy neighbor wooed Lizaveta, but Erast consoles her, promising to marry himself. Intimacy occurs, and Erast loses interest in the girl he destroyed. Soon the young man leaves for service. Lizaveta is waiting and afraid. But by chance they meet on the street, and Lizaveta throws herself on his neck.
Erast reports that he is engaged to another, and orders the servant to give her money and take her out of the yard. Lizaveta, having handed over the money to her mother, throws herself into the pond. Her mother dies from a stroke.
Erast is ruined by losing at cards and is forced to marry a rich widow. He does not find happiness in life and blames himself.

Sell flowers to the city

Main characters

It is clear that the characterization of one of the heroes of the story “Poor Liza” will be insufficient. They must be assessed together, in their influence on each other.

Despite the novelty and originality of the plot, the image of Erast in the story “Poor Liza” is not new, and the little-known name does not save it. Rich and bored nobleman, tired of accessible and cutesy beauties. He seeks vivid sensations and finds innocent and pure girl. Her image surprises him, attracts him and even awakens love. But the very first intimacy turns the angel into an ordinary earthly girl. He immediately remembers that she is poor, uneducated, and her reputation is already ruined. He is running away from responsibility, from crime.

He runs into his usual hobbies - cards and festivities, which leads to ruin. But he doesn’t want to lose his habits and live the work life he loves. Erast sells his youth and freedom for the widow's wealth. Although a couple of months ago he tried to dissuade his beloved from a successful marriage.

Meeting his beloved after separation only tires him and interferes with him. He cynically throws money at her and forces the servant to take the unfortunate woman out. This gesture shows the depth of the fall and all its cruelty.

And here is the image main character Karamzin's story is distinguished by its freshness and novelty. She is poor, works for her mother's survival and is also gentle and beautiful. Its distinctive features are sensitivity and nationality. In Karamzin's story, poor Liza is a typical heroine from the village, poetic and with a tender heart. It is her feelings and emotions that replace her upbringing, morality and norms.

The author, generously endowing the poor girl with kindness and love, seems to emphasize that such women have natural, which does not require restrictions and teachings. She is ready to live for the sake of her loved ones, work and maintain joy.

Important! Life has already tested her strength, and she has passed the test with dignity. Behind her image, honest, beautiful, gentle, one forgets that she is a poor, uneducated peasant woman. That she works with her hands and trades with what God sent her. This should be remembered when the news about the ruin of Erast becomes known. Lisa is not afraid of poverty.

The scene describing how the poor girl died is complete despair and tragedy. Believer and loving girl It is undoubtedly clear that suicide is a terrible sin. She also understands that her mother will not live without her help. But the pain of betrayal and the realization that she is disgraced is too hard for her to experience. Lisa looked at life soberly and honestly told Erast that she was poor, that she was not a match for him, and that her mother had found her a worthy groom, albeit an unloved one.

But the young man convinced her of his love and committed an irreparable crime - he took her honor. What became an ordinary boring event for him turned out to be the end of the world and the beginning of a new life at the same time for poor Lisa. Her most tender and pure soul plunged into the mud, and a new meeting showed that her beloved assessed her action as promiscuity.

Important! The one who wrote the story “Poor Liza” realized that he was raising a whole layer of problems and, in particular, the topic of the responsibility of rich, bored noblemen to unfortunate poor girls, whose destinies and lives are broken from boredom, which later found its response in the works of Bunin and others.

Scene near the pond

Readers' reaction

The public greeted the story with ambiguity. The women had compassion and made a pilgrimage to the pond, which became the last refuge of the unfortunate girl. Some male critics shamed the author and accused him of being overly sensitive, of copious tears that constantly flow, and of the picturesqueness of the characters.

In fact, behind the external cloying and tearfulness, the reproaches of which every critical article is full of, lies the true meaning, understood by attentive readers. The author confronts not only two characters, but two worlds:

Sincere, sensitive, painfully naive peasantry with its touching and stupid, but real girls.
Good-natured, enthusiastic, generous nobility with pampered and capricious men.

One is strengthened by the difficulties of life, while the other is broken and frightened by these same difficulties.