Episodes from the life of the freedom-loving and warlike people of the Caucasus were shown by the poet M. Yu. Lermontov in the poem “Valerik,” written in 1840. This poem was written based on the poet’s observations of the military affairs of Lieutenant General Galafeev’s detachment during the campaign in Chechnya. The Valerik River actually exists and flows into the Sunzha River, a right-bank tributary of the Terek. From July 6 to July 14, 1840, Lermontov took part in battles and, according to legend, kept a journal of the military actions of General Galafeev’s detachment. The coincidence of the text of the “Journal of Military Actions” and Lermontov’s poem gives an idea of how accurately he reproduced the actual situation of the campaign and, at the same time, in what direction the poetic development of the material of his observations went. From a comparison of the text of the poem with the corresponding pages of the “Journal of Military Actions,” it is clear that not only the factual basis is the same, but also the style itself, entire sentences of the “Journal” and the lines of the poem. The author wrote a poem in the epistolary genre to express his thoughts, feelings, memories, and observations. The theme of this work is the eternal theme of life and death in all literature. With this poem, Lermontov wanted to show that in our lives there are many anxieties, worries, and worries. There is so much to do, to learn, to hear, to discover. The author wants our land to bloom calmly under the blue peaceful sky, there will never be explosions, no shots will be fired that end human lives. In “Valerika” there are various visual and expressive means. These are epithets (“a wide shadow”, “skinny horses”), metaphors (“in the streams”), gradation (“Like animals, silently, breasted”), etc. The size of the verse is iambic bimeter, the rhyme is devoid of any order. : rhymes are sometimes cross, sometimes enveloping, sometimes adjacent, and two or three verses can rhyme without any regularity. Lermontov entered Russian literature as a successor to the traditions of Pushkin. Poems were life, his work, his protest. The poet feels his loneliness, melancholy, misunderstanding; he endlessly loves his people, clearly separates true patriotism from imaginary one. Almost his entire life is connected with the Caucasus. After graduating from the cadet school, Lermontov became a cornet in the Life Guards Hussar Regiment and, by the will of fate, ended up in the Caucasus, which he loved since childhood. In the final verses, philosophical romantic irony is translated into everyday life: everything described in the poem is jokingly called the “prank” of the “eccentric” whose thoughts life and death are not worth considering. At best, they are able to “amuse” and briefly occupy the thoughts and imagination of the addressee of the message. Now our lives, the lives of young people of our time, are so closely connected with the Caucasus that it is impossible not to read Lermontov’s poems, especially the poem “Valerik”. In the Caucasus there is a special people, a unique life, spirit, customs, traditions... In lullabies, mothers sing to boys about how “an evil Chechen crawls to the shore, sharpens his dagger,” how they grow up, “bravely put their foot in the stirrup and take up a gun... " They cannot do otherwise, this is their way of life, the law of their ancestors. Their legends glorify courage and heroism, perseverance and bravery, endurance and patience. Yes, this is the kind of people who do not forgive insults, who have been avenging the blood of their lost ancestors for centuries. From grandfather to father, from father to son, a bloody covenant is passed on: “Kill the enemy!” And there is a series of murders, going on for centuries, even millennia. The “Chechen trace” was discovered during the investigation of the massacres of innocent people, when residential buildings were blown up in Moscow and Volgodonsk. The hostage taking in Moscow during the performance of the musical “Nord-Ost” was carried out by Chechen terrorists. Will the bloody list continue? We can continue ad infinitum... But is it necessary? And who needs it, who benefits? It is clear that it is not for us, ordinary people who love life, their loved ones, and relatives.
M. Yu. Lermontov entered Russian literature as a continuer of Pushkin’s traditions. Poems were life, his work, his protest. The poet feels his loneliness, melancholy, misunderstanding; he endlessly loves his people, clearly separates true patriotism from imaginary one. Almost his entire life is connected with the Caucasus. After graduating from the cadet school, Lermontov became a cornet in the Life Guards Hussar Regiment and, by the will of fate, ended up in the Caucasus, which he loved since childhood:
Although I was destined at the dawn of my days,
O southern mountains, they are torn from you,
To remember them forever,
You have to be there once:
Like the sweet song of my homeland,
I love the Caucasus.
Now our lives, the lives of young people of our time, are so closely connected with the Caucasus that it is impossible not to read Lermontov’s poems, especially the poem “Valerik”. In the Caucasus there is a special people, a unique life, spirit, customs, traditions... In lullabies, mothers sing to boys about how “an evil Chechen crawls to the shore, sharpens his dagger,” how they grow up, “bravely put their foot in the stirrup and take up a gun... " They cannot do otherwise, this is their way of life, the law of their ancestors. Their legends glorify courage and heroism, perseverance and bravery, endurance and patience. The poet showed episodes from the life of this freedom-loving and warlike people in the poem “Valerik,” written in 1840.
The letter begins with an explanation of the accident of its writing:
I am writing to you by chance; right,
I don't know how or why.
I've lost this right.
And what will I tell you? - Nothing!
What do I remember about you? - but, good God,
You have known this for a long time;
And of course you don't care.
The first lines are reminiscent of Tatyana’s letter to Onegin; they set the tone for the sincerity of the entire message, the truthfulness and openness of the narrative. This confirms the belated declaration of love:
Firstly, because there are a lot
And I loved you for a long, long time,
Then suffering and anxiety
I paid for the days of bliss...
Approaching people carefully,
I forgot the noise of young pranks,
Love, poetry - but you
It was impossible for me to forget.
Further, the lyrical hero tells us and his beloved that he has seen a lot in life, but admits: “... I bear the cross without grumbling,” “I have comprehended life,” “to fate ... I am absolutely grateful for everything; I don’t ask God for happiness and silently endure evil.” Fate threw the hero to the Caucasus, where he had to get acquainted with the life of the highlanders:
And life is always nomadic,
Works, worries, night and day...
From personal experience, he comprehended the difficulties of this simple and unpretentious existence, when after physical work “the heart sleeps, there is no space for the imagination... And there is no work for the head...”.
But you're lying in the thick grass
And you sleep under the wide shadow
Chinar il grapevines;
There are white tents all around;
Cossack skinny horses
They stand side by side, hanging their noses,
The servants sleep by the copper cannons.
But this is still a military camp, and a hidden threat, a readiness for battle, can be heard in the following lines:
The wicks are barely smoking;
The chain stands in pairs at a distance;
Bayonets burn under the southern sun.
What are the soldiers doing at this sultry midday hour? As usual, the old and experienced teach young, inexperienced fighters, remembering their long-standing exploits or the heroism of their fathers and grandfathers:
Here's a talk about old times
I can hear it in the neighboring tent;
How they walked under Yermolov
To Chechnya, to Avaria, to the mountains;
How they fought, how we beat them,
How did we get it...
We got it under Yermolov, we still get it now, in the same Caucasus, in the same Chechnya and Accident. People are dying, young, beautiful, healthy. Not years, not decades, but centuries have passed, but everything remains the same:
Here they are taking guns out of the bushes,
They're dragging people by the legs
And they call loudly for the doctors;
And here on the left, from the edge of the forest,
Suddenly they rushed to the guns with a boom,
And a hail of bullets from the treetops
The squad is showered.
How similar it is to a modern chronicle from Chechnya, a report from the scene of hostilities!
Although now the wrong weapons are used, the scale of fighting is wrong: many more people are dying on both sides, the fighters have become cruel and sophisticated in their killings. Shouldn't we both stop and think about a peaceful life?
And Lermontov continues to describe the terrible battles at that time on the Valerik River, which flows into the Terek, on the river, which, reddened with the blood of the dead, carried corpses to the Caspian Sea:
“... There are the daggers,
To the butts!” - and the massacre began.
And two hours in the jets of the stream
The battle lasted. They cut themselves cruelly,
Like animals, silently, chest-to-chest,
The stream was dammed with bodies.
...muddy wave
It was warm, it was red.
Hundreds of human lives were lost to death. And yet, every fate is tragic, someone is waiting at home for every fighter, hoping that he will return - after all, each of those killed is someone’s husband, father or son.
... their captain was lying on his greatcoat with his back to the tree. He was dying; Two wounds were barely black in his chest; his blood was oozing a little. But his chest was high and it was difficult to rise, his eyes wandered terribly, he whispered... ... For a long time he moaned, But more and more weakly and little by little he calmed down and gave his soul to God; Leaning on their guns, gray-haired mustaches stood all around... And quietly cried...
The bitterness of loss... After all, just recently this man was joking and laughing, eating a simple soldier's stew, like everyone else, preparing for battle. And now he's gone. And it will never be...
The poet continues the story, painting a terrible picture after the battle:
Everything has already died down; body
They pulled it into a heap; blood flowed
A stream of smoke over the stones,
Its heavy vapor
The air was full...
And again, all these terrible events take place against the backdrop of the calm and majestic nature of the Caucasus:
The surrounding forest, as if in a fog,
Turned blue in the smoke of gunpowder.
And there, in the distance, along a discordant ridge,
But forever proud and calm,
The mountains stretched - and Kazbek
The pointed head sparkled.
Nature is far from war, it does not want to accept cruelty, it does not understand why people kill each other for so many centuries in a row. Why is blood shed, shots are fired, an ungodly deed is being committed, why is evil reigning in the world? Why, when life is so good, the earth is beautiful, and there is so much room on it for the peaceful and happy existence of people of various nationalities?
I thought: “Pitiful man. What does he want!... the sky is clear, There is plenty of room for everyone under the sky, But incessantly and in vain He alone is at enmity - why?
Then “up to seven thousand” died on the river of death - the same number remained widows, orphans, parents who did not receive sons...
No one could answer the question of how many mountaineers died. But to someone’s words: “Let this bloody day be in their memory!” –
The Chechen looked slyly
And he shook his head.
Yes, this is the kind of people who do not forgive insults, who have been avenging the blood of their lost ancestors for centuries. From grandfather to father, from father to son, a bloody covenant is passed on: “Kill the enemy!” And there is a series of murders, going on for centuries, even millennia. The “Chechen trace” was discovered during the investigation of the massacres of innocent people, when residential buildings were blown up in Moscow and Volgodonsk. The hostage taking in Moscow during the performance of the musical “Nord-Ost” was carried out by Chechen terrorists. Will the bloody list continue? We can continue ad infinitum... But is it necessary? And who needs it, who benefits?
It is clear that it is not for us, ordinary people who love life, their loved ones, and relatives. Even the thought of murder seems scary and absurd to us. We don’t want to see bloody scenes, just as M. Yu. Lermontov’s lyrical hero didn’t want to see them:
...and you hardly
Have you ever seen it up close?
How they die.
God bless you
And not to be seen: other worries
There is enough.
Indeed, there are so many anxieties, worries, worries in our lives. There is so much to do, to learn, to hear, to discover! So let our land bloom calmly under the blue peaceful sky, let there never be explosions, let there never be shots that end human lives. Probably, the great Russian poet M.Yu. thought about this. Lermontov, depicting bloody scenes of a brutal war in the poem “Valerik”.
Since childhood, Mikhail Lermontov dreamed of linking his fate with the army. He constantly admired the exploits of his fathers and grandfathers who took part in the year and he himself wanted to do something unusual, noble, and serve for the good of his homeland. That is why the poet left the university and entered the school of cavalry cadets. He was constantly attracted by military operations in the Caucasus; in 1832, Mikhail Yuryevich entered service in the Guards regiment with the rank of cornet.
Prerequisites for writing a poem
M. Lermontov wrote “Valerik” in 1840 during a bloody battle on the river of the same name. Those around him characterized the poet as an unbalanced and wayward young man, although close friends argued the opposite. Most likely, the writer deliberately behaved defiantly, challenged society in order to end up in exile in the Caucasus - this is exactly what the analysis suggests. “Valerik” by Lermontov accurately describes the battle in which the author participated. Mikhail Yuryevich joined the active army in 1837, but he only managed to see real combat in the summer of 1840.
A poem is written to express feelings, thoughts, memories or observations. It was intended for the poet’s beloved, Varvara Lopukhina. Lermontov loved her until his death, but constantly pushed her away because he considered himself unworthy of her love. At that time, the writer kept a journal of General Galafeev’s military actions; an interesting fact is that his text is the basis of a poem that describes the battle, but only its brief content.
Lermontov “Valerik” - a parallel between social life and war
The work begins as the Author writes a letter to a girl from the war, but not with a declaration of love, but simply with a description of his military everyday life. Mikhail Yuryevich deliberately or unconsciously tried to hurt Varvara, prick her pride, push her away from him. He believes that there is no spiritual closeness between them and the tragic events that happened in the Caucasus are to blame. After seeing the deaths, the poet perceives love as childish - this is also evidenced by the analysis.
“Valerik” by Lermontov in the second part describes military operations directly. Here the author paints the battle in all colors and gives vent to his feelings. Of course, stories about wounded and dead friends, dying commanders are in no way intended for a young girl, a socialite who dreams of going to the theater or to a ball. The poet specifically compares two worlds in his work - this is also shown by analysis. Lermontov's "Valerik" highlighted the pointlessness of ladies who care only about outfits and gentlemen. At the same time, he showed the fate of ordinary soldiers dying for high ideals.
In the final third part of the work, the author again turns to his beloved. Although disguised, Mikhail Yuryevich still reproaches Lopukhina for the fact that for her a trip to the Caucasus is perceived as an exciting journey, she simply cannot understand all the hardships of the war - this is exactly what the analysis shows. “Valerik” by Lermontov speaks of the meaninglessness of human sacrifice. The poet, who had been striving all his life to go to war, only realized in a bloody battle that all this made no sense and nothing could justify the death of a person.
What is the name of this place? He answered me: “. And to translate into yours, So there will be a river of death: that’s right, Given by ancient people.”
M. Yu. Lermontov
M, Yu. Lermontov entered Russian literature as a continuer of Pushkin’s traditions. Poems were life, his work, his protest. The poet feels his own, melancholy, misunderstanding; he endlessly loves his people, clearly separates true patriotism from imaginary one. Almost his entire life is connected with the Caucasus. After graduating from the cadet school, Lermontov became a cornet in the Life Guards Hussar Regiment and, by the will of fate, ended up in the Caucasus, which he loved since childhood:
Although I was destined at the dawn of my days,
O southern mountains, they are torn from you,
To remember them forever,
You have to be there once:
Like the sweet song of my homeland,
I love the Caucasus.
Now our lives, the lives of young people of our time, are so closely connected with the Caucasus that it is impossible not to read Lermontov’s poems, especially the poem “Valerik”. In the Caucasus there is a special people, a unique life, spirit, customs, traditions... In lullabies, mothers sing to boys about how “an evil Chechen crawls ashore, sharpens his dagger,” how they grow up, “bravely put their foot into the stirrup and take gun...". They cannot do otherwise, this is their way of life, the law of their ancestors. Their legends glorify courage and heroism, perseverance and bravery, endurance and patience. The poet showed episodes from the life of this freedom-loving and warlike people in the poem “Valerik,” written in 1840.
The letter begins with an explanation of the accident of its writing:
I am writing to you by chance; right,
I don't know how or why.
I've lost this right.
And what will I tell you? - Nothing!
What do I remember about you? - but, good God,
You have known this for a long time;
And of course you don't care.
The first lines are reminiscent of Tatyana’s letter to Onegin; they set the tone for the sincerity of the entire message, the truthfulness and openness of the narrative. This confirms the belated declaration of love:
Firstly, because I loved you a lot and for a long, long time, Then I paid for the days of bliss with suffering and anxiety... Getting closer to people carefully, I forgot the noise of young pranks, Love, poetry - but it was impossible for me to Forget you.
Further, the lyrical hero tells us and his beloved that he has seen a lot in life, but admits: “... I bear the cross without grumbling,” “I have comprehended life,” “to fate... I am absolutely grateful for everything; I don’t ask God for happiness and silently endure evil.” threw the hero to the Caucasus, where he had to get acquainted with the life of the highlanders:
And life is always nomadic, Works, worries, night and day...
From personal experience, he comprehended the difficulties of this simple and unpretentious existence, when after physical work “the heart sleeps, there is no space for the imagination... And there is no work for the head...”.
But you're lying in the thick grass
And you sleep under the wide shadow
Chinar il grapevines;
There are white tents all around;
Cossack skinny horses
They stand side by side, hanging their noses,
The servants sleep by the copper cannons.
But this is still a military camp, and a hidden threat, a readiness for battle, can be heard in the following lines:
The wicks are barely smoking; The chain stands in pairs at a distance; Bayonets burn under the southern sun.
What are the soldiers doing at this sultry midday hour? As usual, the old and experienced teach young, inexperienced fighters, remembering their long-standing exploits or the heroism of their fathers and grandfathers:
Here's a talk about old times
I can hear it in the neighboring tent;
How they walked under Yermolov
To Chechnya, to Avaria, to the mountains;
How they fought, how we beat them,
How did we get it...
We got it under Yermolov, we get it now, in the same Caucasus, in the same Chechnya and Accident. People are dying, young, beautiful, healthy. Not years, not decades, but centuries have passed, but everything remains the same:
Here they are taking guns out of the bushes,
They're dragging people by the legs
And they call loudly for the doctors;
And here on the left, from the edge of the forest,
Suddenly they rushed to the guns with a boom,
And a hail of bullets from the treetops
The squad is showered.
How similar it is to a modern chronicle from Chechnya, a report from the scene of hostilities!
Although now the wrong weapons are used, the scale of fighting is wrong: many more people are dying on both sides, the fighters have become cruel and sophisticated in their killings. Shouldn't we both stop and think about a peaceful life?
And Lermontov continues to describe the terrible battles at that time on the Valerik River, which flows into the Terek, on the river, which, reddened with the blood of the dead, carried corpses to the Caspian Sea:
There are the daggers,
Butts!” - and the massacre began.
And two hours in the jets of the stream
The battle lasted. They cut themselves cruelly,
Like animals, silently, chest-to-chest,
The stream was dammed with bodies.
Muddy wave
It was warm, it was red.
Hundreds of human lives were lost to death. And yet, every fate is tragic, someone is waiting at home for every fighter, hoping that he will return - after all, each of those killed is someone’s husband, father or son.
Their captain lay on his greatcoat with his back to the tree. He was dying; Two wounds were barely black in his chest; his blood a little
Oozed. But his chest was high and it was difficult to rise, his eyes wandered terribly, he whispered... ... For a long time he moaned, But more and more weakly and little by little he calmed down and gave his soul to God; Leaning on their guns, gray-haired mustaches stood all around... And quietly cried...
The bitterness of loss... After all, just recently this man was joking and laughing, eating a simple soldier's stew, like everyone else, preparing for battle. And now he's gone. And he will never be...
The poet continues the story, painting a terrible picture after the battle:
Everything has already died down; the bodies were dragged into a heap; blood flowed in a smoky stream over the stones, the air was full of its heavy evaporation...
And again, all these terrible events take place against the backdrop of the calm and majestic nature of the Caucasus:
The surrounding forest, as if in a fog, was chenille in the smoke of gunpowder. And there, in the distance, in a discordant ridge, but forever proud and calm, the mountains stretched - and Kazbek sparkled with its pointed head.
Nature is far from war, it does not want to accept cruelty, it does not understand why people kill each other for so many centuries in a row. Why is blood shed, shots are fired, an ungodly deed is being committed, why is evil reigning in the world? Why, when life is so good, the earth is beautiful, and there is so much room on it for the peaceful and happy existence of people of various nationalities?
I thought: “Pitiful man. What does he want!... the sky is clear, There is plenty of room for everyone under the sky, But incessantly and in vain He alone is at enmity - why?
Then “up to seven thousand” died on the river of death - the same number of widows, orphans, parents who did not receive sons...
No one could answer the question of how many mountaineers died. But to someone’s words: “May it be a bloody day for them!” -
The Chechen looked slyly and shook his head.
Yes, this is the kind of people who do not forgive insults, who have been avenging the blood of their lost ancestors for centuries. From grandfather to father, from father to son, a bloody covenant is passed on: “Kill the enemy!” And there is a series of murders, going on for centuries, even millennia. “The Chechen trace* was discovered during the investigation of the massacres of innocent people, when residential buildings were blown up in Moscow and Volgodonsk. The hostage taking in Moscow during the performance of the musical “Nord-Ost” was carried out by Chechen terrorists. Will the bloody list continue? We can continue ad infinitum... But is it necessary? And who needs it, who benefits?
It is clear that it is not for us, ordinary people who love life, their loved ones, and relatives. Even the thought of murder seems scary and absurd to us. We don’t want to see bloody scenes, just as M. Yu. Lermontov’s lyrical hero didn’t want to see them:
And you hardly
Have you ever seen someone die up close? May God grant you And not to be seen: there are enough other worries.
Indeed, there are so many anxieties, worries, worries in our lives. There is so much to do, to learn, to hear, to discover! So let our land bloom calmly under the blue peaceful sky, let there never be explosions, let there never be shots that end human lives. Probably, the great Russian poet M.Yu. thought about this. Lermontov, depicting bloody scenes of a brutal war in the poem “Valerik”.
The poem "Valerik" was written by Mikhail Lermontov during his second Caucasian exile in 1840. Three years later it was first published in the almanac “Morning Dawn”. The work describes the battle on the Valerik River, in which the poet participated. He was in the detachment of General Galafeev. This unit conducted active military operations in Chechnya.
The theme of the work is eternal and relevant for all humanity. This is an awareness of the fragility, beauty and value of life in the face of mortal danger in a merciless and senseless war.
Genre the poems can be defined as a rare combination of love and military lyrics, where there are sketches of the landscape, philosophical reflections, and scenes of the life of the mountaineers. This is a confession message from a hero to his beloved. It was addressed to Varvara Lopukhina, for whom Lermontov had tender feelings for many years.
The first and last parts of the poem, where the poet talks about his love, seem to frame the main part of the work with a description of the battle. This compositional technique successfully connects the hero’s experiences and the tragic events of the war into a single whole.
The first part, although addressed to the woman he loves, is completely devoid of a romantic mood. Lermontov justifies this by saying that after the bloody massacre he experienced, old feelings seem like a game to him. All secular entertainment is a thing of the past for the poet, but in real life despondency and chaos reign. However, the author is unable to give up his long-term heartfelt affection, so he strives to push his beloved away from him with irony and memories of the horror he experienced. He believes that his beloved is indifferent to him, they have no spiritual closeness.
We are alien to each other in soul,
Yes, there is hardly any kindred spirit.
The second part of the poem describes military operations. Here the tone of the narrative changes, the number of hyphenations of one sentence in adjacent lines increases. Lermontov introduces many verbs and avoids personal pronouns: "things have begun", "let's get closer", “suddenly they rushed with a boom”. All this creates a picture of chaos and nervousness, the movement of impersonal masses, an ugly reality.
After the battle, images of individual people appear again - a soldier, a general, a lyrical hero. Lermontov, as in Borodino, shows military actions from the point of view of an ordinary participant. This technique, new for that time, finds expression in precise and simple descriptions, as in the scene with the dying captain.
The author sees the special tragedy of what is happening in the fact that Russians and highlanders, whose free and proud spirit evokes deep respect, must kill each other in this senseless and bloody conflict. As in other works dedicated to the Caucasus, Lermontov expresses disagreement with the methods by which these territories were annexed to Russia.
And with secret and heartfelt sadness
I thought: pathetic man.
What does he want!.. The sky is clear,
There's plenty of room for everyone under the sky,
But incessantly and in vain
He alone is at enmity - why?
In the poem, the author never calls the Chechens enemies. He uses only positive definitions - "highlanders", "dares". And before describing the brutal battle, he even declares his love for this people. Characteristic and image of "kunak" lyrical hero – Chechen Galub.
The author contrasts the brutal prose of war with the poetry of nature, the rough language of military commands with the solemn and majestic style with which he describes the mountain landscape. "Proud and Calm" The peaks of the mountains should remind a person of eternity and the desire for spiritual heights.
The third part of the poem is again addressed to the beloved. The lyrical hero tries to present his deep thoughts and feelings as eccentricities, bitterly believing that the anxieties of war look wild and absurd among secular amusements. At the same time, Lermontov implies that not only his beloved, but also the entire secular society thinks so.
In the poem “Valerik” the poet used a variety of visual means. Mobile iambic tetrameter and bimeter, irregular rhyme of several stanzas in a row, numerous super-scheme stresses, enveloping, cross and adjacent rhymes amazingly accurately convey the natural intonations of dialogues, and the ragged rhythm of battle, and the grandeur of mountain peaks, and the slightly ironic philosophical reasoning of the author.
Belinsky assessed the significance of “Valerik” in Lermontov’s work as a manifestation of his special talent. The poet knew how to look directly at truth and feelings, without embellishing them.
- “Motherland”, analysis of Lermontov’s poem, essay
- “Sail”, analysis of Lermontov’s poem
