On the fifth day there was an impenetrable blizzard. In the snow-white and cold farmhouse there was a pale twilight and there was great grief: a child was seriously ill. And in the heat, in delirium, he often cried and kept asking for some red bast shoes. And his mother, who did not leave the bed where he lay, also cried bitter tears - from fear and from her helplessness. What to do, how to help? The husband is away, the horses are bad, and the hospital, the doctor, is thirty miles away, and no doctor would go in such a passion...
There was a knock in the hallway - Nefed brought straw to the firebox, dumped it on the floor, puffing, wiping himself, breathing cold and blizzard freshness, opened the door and looked in:
Well, lady, how are you? Don't you feel any better?
- Where is it, Nefedushka! That's right, and he won't survive! Everyone is asking for some red bast shoes...
Bast shoes? What kind of bast shoes are these?
And the Lord knows. He's delirious, he's on fire. He shook his hat and thought. A hat, a beard, an old sheepskin coat, broken felt boots - everything is covered in snow, everything is frozen... And suddenly firmly:
So, we need to extract it. This means the soul desires. We have to get it.
How to mine?
Go to Novoselki. To the shop. Painting it with magenta is a simple matter.
God be with you, it’s six miles to Novoselki! Where can one get into such horror!
I thought some more.
No, I'll go. It's okay, I'll go. You won’t be able to get there, but on foot, maybe nothing. It will be in my ass, dust...
And, closing the door, he left. And in the kitchen, without saying a word, he pulled his coat over his sheepskin coat, belted himself tightly with an old girdle, took a whip in his hands and went out, walked, drowning in the snowdrifts, across the yard, got out of the gate and drowned in the white steppe rushing somewhere madly sea.
We had lunch, it began to get dark, and it got dark - Nefed was gone. We decided that it means we stayed the night if God told us. You won't be able to go back to normal in this weather. We must wait until lunchtime tomorrow. But because he was still not there, the night was even more terrible. The whole house was buzzing, the mere thought of what was now there, in the field, in the abyss of a snow storm and darkness, was terrifying. The tallow candle burned with a trembling, gloomy flame. Her mother put her on the floor, behind the side of the bed. The child lay in the shadows, but the wall seemed to him to be fiery and was all running with bizarre, unspeakably magnificent and menacing visions. And sometimes he seemed to come to his senses and immediately began to cry bitterly and pitifully, begging (and as if quite reasonably) to give him red bast shoes:
Mommy, give it! Mommy dear, what are you doing!
And the mother threw herself on her knees and beat her chest:
Lord help me! Lord, protect!
And when it finally dawned, under the windows, through the roar and roar of the blizzard, I could hear quite clearly, not at all like I had been imagining all night, that someone was driving up, that someone’s muffled voices were being heard, and then a hasty, ominous knock on the window.
These were the Novosel men who brought the dead body of Nefed, white, frozen, completely covered in snow, lying on his back in the sledges. The men were traveling from the city, they themselves got lost all night, and at dawn they fell into some meadows, drowned along with their horse in terrible snow and were completely desperate, they decided to disappear, when suddenly they saw someone’s feet in felt boots sticking out of the snow. They rushed to shovel the snow, picked up the body, it turned out to be a familiar person. “That’s the only way we were saved when we realized that these meadows were farmsteads, Protasovskie, and that there was housing on the mountain, two steps away...
In Nefed's bosom lay brand new baby shoes and a bottle of magenta.
Lapti. Ivan Bunin. On the fifth day there was an impenetrable blizzard. In the snow-white and cold farmhouse there was a pale twilight and there was great grief: a child was seriously ill. And in the heat, in delirium, he often cried and kept asking for some red bast shoes. And his mother, who did not leave the bed where he lay, also cried bitter tears - from fear and from her helplessness. What to do, how to help? The husband is away, the horses are bad, and the hospital, the doctor, is thirty miles away, and no doctor would go in such passion... There was a knock in the hallway - Nefed brought straw to the firebox, dumped it on the floor, puffing, wiping himself, breathing in the cold and the freshness of the blizzard, he opened the door and looked in: “Well, lady, how are you?” Don't you feel any better? - Where is it, Nefedushka! That's right, and he won't survive! Everyone is asking for some red bast shoes... - Bast shoes? What kind of bast shoes are these? - And the Lord knows. He's delirious, he's on fire... He shook his cap and thought. A hat, a beard, an old sheepskin coat, broken felt boots - everything is covered in snow, everything is frozen... And suddenly firmly: - So we have to get it. This means the soul desires. We have to get it. - How to get it? - Go to Novoselki. To the shop. Painting it with magenta is a simple matter. - God be with you, it’s six miles to Novoselki! Where can one get into such horror! I thought some more. - No, I'll go. It's okay, I'll go. You won’t be able to get there, but on foot, maybe nothing. It will be in my ass, dust... And, closing the door, he left. And in the kitchen, without saying a word, he pulled his coat over his sheepskin coat, belted himself tightly with an old girdle, took a whip in his hands and went out, walked, drowning in the snowdrifts, across the yard, got out of the gate and drowned in the white steppe rushing somewhere madly sea. We had lunch, it began to get dark, and it got dark - Nefed was gone. We decided that it means we stayed the night if God told us. You won't be able to go back to normal in this weather. We must wait until lunchtime tomorrow. But because he was still not there, the night was even more terrible. The whole house was buzzing, the thought was terrifying, what? now there, in the field, in the abyss of a snow storm and darkness. The tallow candle burned with a trembling, gloomy flame. Her mother put her on the floor, behind the side of the bed. The child lay in the shadows, but the wall seemed to him to be fiery and was all running with bizarre, unspeakably magnificent and menacing visions. And sometimes he seemed to come to his senses and immediately began to cry bitterly and pitifully, begging (and as if quite reasonably) to give him red bast shoes: “Mommy, give me!” Mommy, dear, what are you doing! And the mother threw herself on her knees and beat herself in the chest: “Lord, help me!” Lord, protect! And when it finally dawned, under the windows, through the roar and roar of the blizzard, I could hear it quite clearly, not at all like I had been imagining all night, that someone was driving up, that someone’s muffled voices were being heard, and then a hasty, ominous knock on the window. It was the Novosel peasants who brought the dead body - white, frozen, completely covered with snow, lying on his back in the sledges of Nefed. The men were traveling from the city, they themselves got lost all night, and at dawn they fell into some meadows, drowned along with their horse in terrible snow and were completely desperate, they decided to disappear, when suddenly they saw someone’s feet in felt boots sticking out of the snow. They rushed to shovel the snow, lifted the body - it turned out to be a familiar person... That was the only way they were saved - they realized that these meadows were farm meadows, Protasovskie, and that there was housing on the mountain, two steps away... In Nefed's bosom lay brand new children's bast shoes and a bottle of magenta. June 22, 1924On the fifth day there was an impenetrable blizzard. In white from snow and
in the cold farm house there was a pale twilight and there was a large
grief: the child was seriously ill. And in the heat, he is often delirious
he cried and kept asking for some red bast shoes. AND
his mother, who did not leave the bed where he lay, also cried
bitter tears - out of fear and out of helplessness. What
to do, how to help? My husband is away, the horses are bad, and before
hospital, to the doctor, thirty miles, and no one will go
the doctor is so passionate. . .
There was a knock in the hallway - Nefed brought straw to the firebox,
knocked her to the floor, puffing, wiping himself, breathing cold and
blizzard freshness, he opened the door and looked in:
- Well, lady, how? Don't you feel any better?
- Where is it, Nefedushka! That's right, and he won't survive! All
asks for some red bast shoes. . .
- Bast shoes? What kind of bast shoes are these?
- And the Lord knows. He's delirious, he's on fire. -
He shook his hat and thought. Hat, beard, old sheepskin coat,
broken felt boots - everything is covered in snow, everything is frozen. . . And suddenly
firmly:
- So, we need to get it. This means the soul desires. Necessary
extract.
- How to get it?
- Go to Novoselki. To the shop. Paint with magenta
a simple matter.
- God be with you, it’s six miles to Novoselki! Where in this
horror to get there!
I thought some more.
- No, I'll go. It's okay, I'll go. You won’t get there, but
on foot, maybe nothing. It will be in my ass, dust. . .
And, closing the door, he left. And in the kitchen, not a word
speaking, he pulled his coat over his sheepskin coat and belted it tightly
old girdle, took the whip in his hands and went out, went,
drowning in snowdrifts, through the yard, got out of the gate and drowned
in the white steppe sea, rushing somewhere madly.
We had lunch, it began to get dark, and it got dark - Nefed was gone.
We decided that it means we stayed the night if God told us.
You won't be able to go back to normal in this weather. We don't have to wait for tomorrow
before lunch. But because he was still not there, the night
was even worse. The whole house was buzzing, the thought that
now there, in the field, in the abyss of a snow storm and darkness.
The tallow candle burned with a trembling, gloomy flame. Mother
I put her on the floor, behind the edge of the bed. The child was lying in
shadows, but the wall seemed to him to be fiery and was all running
bizarre, unspeakably magnificent and menacing visions.
And sometimes he seemed to come to his senses and immediately began
cry bitterly and pitifully, begging (and as if completely
reasonable) give him red sandals:
- Mommy, give it! Mommy dear, what are you doing!
And the mother threw herself on her knees and beat her chest:
- Lord, help! Lord, protect!
And when it finally dawned, it was heard under the windows through
the roar and roar of the blizzard is already quite clear, not at all like
all night long it seemed like someone was driving up, that there were sounds
someone's muffled voices, and then a hasty ominous knock on
window.
These were the Novosel men who brought the dead body -
white, frozen, completely covered with snow, lying on its back
in the sledges of Nefed. The men drove from the city themselves all night
got lost, and at dawn fell into some meadows and drowned
together with the horse in the terrible snow and were completely desperate,
decided to disappear, when suddenly they saw someone sticking out of the snow
feet in felt boots. They rushed to shovel the snow, lifted the body -
turns out to be a familiar person. - That’s the only way we were saved -
realized that these meadows were farm meadows, Protasovo, and that
on the mountain, two steps away, housing. . .
In Nefed's bosom lay brand new baby shoes and
a bottle of magenta. .
The plot and problems of the story “Lapti”. Bunin wrote this story in 1924, in exile, in a foreign land. One of the main tasks of the writer is to depict the Russian national character. The theme of the Russian people, the understanding of their character, was continued by Russian literature of the 20th century. In Bunin's story, the tragic situation is conveyed concisely, as if in brief flashes of memory. Bunin chose this method of narration, probably so that the reader could more clearly imagine the mother’s helpless state, her exhaustion from grief and fatigue. And a sick child, in the heat and delirium, sees flickers of flame from a candle on a dark wall.
So the surrounding reality breaks into episodes, but into the most important episodes: “On the fifth day there was an impenetrable blizzard. In the snow-white and cold farmhouse there was a pale twilight and there was great grief: a child was seriously ill. And in the heat, in delirium, he often cried and kept asking for some red bast shoes. And his mother, who did not leave the bed where he lay, also cried bitter tears - from fear and from her helplessness. What to do, how to help?
The husband is away, the horses are bad, and the hospital, the doctor, are thirty miles away, and no doctor would go in such passion...” Such an episode was the arrival of the master’s servant Nefed. He closed the door behind him, and a vague, fragile hope appeared in the room. The mother tells Nefed that the boy is deliriously asking for some red bast shoes. The wise servant immediately understands that the boy’s recovery depends on these red bast shoes.
To get them, he goes into the night to a neighboring village, although there is a blizzard outside, and getting there is almost impossible: “I’ve just thought about it. - No, I'll go. It's okay, I'll go. You won’t be able to get there, but on foot, maybe nothing. It will be in my ass, dust... And, closing the door, he left. And in the kitchen, without saying a word, he pulled his coat over his sheepskin coat, belted himself tightly with an old girdle, took a whip in his hands and went out, walked, drowning in the snowdrifts, across the yard, got out of the gate and drowned in the white steppe rushing somewhere madly sea". Nefed got there and froze on the way back. He managed to buy bast shoes and red paint: “In Nefed’s bosom there were brand new children’s bast shoes and a bottle of magenta.”
What is the main thing in this story: that the boy is saved? Yes. But it is important to understand why he was saved. This is what Nefed said when he heard about the red bast shoes: “So we have to get it. This means the soul desires. We have to get it." To understand what the soul of another person desires, you must have a soul yourself. The meaning of the story's title.
Modern researcher M. B. Bagge notes that the title of the story includes a word that is ambiguous in meaning. Lapti is not only a type of shoe; a bast shoe is a name for an ingenuous, uncomplicated, simple, poorly educated person. These are the Russian “bast shoes”, simple Russian men like Nefed. The moral meaning of the work. Going into a snowstorm to get red bast shoes for a sick boy, Nefed sacrifices himself.
Can this sacrifice be called meaningless? The ending of the story is open: we do not know whether the child recovered. But we know for sure that thanks to Nefed, the Novoselsky men were saved: “The men were traveling from the city, they themselves got lost all night, and at dawn they fell into some meadows, drowned together with their horse in terrible snow and were completely desperate, they decided to disappear, when suddenly we saw someone’s feet in felt boots sticking out of the snow. They rushed to shovel the snow, picked up the body - it turned out to be a familiar person. “That’s the only way we were saved - we realized that these meadows were farmsteads, Protasovo, and that there was housing on the mountain, two steps away.” According to M. B. Bagge, “Nefed showed an example of Christian sacrifice, sacrifice in the name of love, and according to Bunin, the entire Russian world, its moral foundations are based on this sacrifice. The word “saved” in the story is not accidental.
Not only physical salvation is new - it means rural men. The word “to be saved” in Russian also means to save a living soul, that is, to save the soul for eternal life.” The work of I. A. Bunin as assessed by critics and literary scholars. “From his pen come masterpieces of artistic prose, in which the merciless truth of figurativeness, internally intense, externally dispassionate, is combined with the unattainable perfection of form” (B.K. Zaitsev). “Bunin’s art is original and independent; it does not live on other people’s rehashes and does not need it; he has his own vision, his own images and his own words.
Bunin Ivan Alekseevich
Ivan Bunin
On the fifth day there was an impenetrable blizzard. In the snow-white and cold farmhouse there was a pale twilight and there was great grief: a child was seriously ill. And in the heat, in delirium, he often cried and kept asking for some red bast shoes. And his mother, who did not leave the bed where he lay, also cried bitter tears - from fear and from her helplessness. What to do, how to help? The husband is away, the horses are bad, and the hospital and the doctor are thirty miles away, and no doctor would go in such a passion...
There was a knock in the hallway - Nefed brought straw to the firebox, dumped it on the floor, puffing, wiping himself, breathing cold and blizzard freshness, opened the door and looked in:
Well, lady, how are you? Don't you feel any better?
Where there, Nefedushka! That's right, and he won't survive! Everyone is asking for some red bast shoes...
Bast shoes? What kind of bast shoes are these?
And the Lord knows. He's delirious, he's on fire. He shook his hat and thought. A hat, a beard, an old sheepskin coat, broken felt boots - everything is covered in snow, everything is frozen... And suddenly firmly:
So, we need to extract it. This means the soul desires. We have to get it.
How to mine?
Go to Novoselki. To the shop. Painting it with magenta is a simple matter.
God be with you, it’s six miles to Novoselki! Where can one get into such horror!
I thought some more.
No, I'll go. It's okay, I'll go. You won’t be able to get there, but on foot, maybe nothing. It will be in my ass, dust...
And, closing the door, he left. And in the kitchen, without saying a word, he pulled his coat over his sheepskin coat, belted himself tightly with an old girdle, took a whip in his hands and went out, walked, drowning in the snowdrifts, across the yard, got out of the gate and drowned in the white steppe rushing somewhere madly sea.
We had lunch, it began to get dark, and it got dark - Nefed was gone. We decided that it means we stayed the night if God told us. You won't be able to go back to normal in this weather. We must wait until lunchtime tomorrow. But because he was still not there, the night was even more terrible. The whole house was buzzing, the mere thought of what was now there, in the field, in the abyss of a snow storm and darkness, was terrifying. The tallow candle burned with a trembling, gloomy flame. Her mother put her on the floor, behind the side of the bed. The child lay in the shadows, but the wall seemed to him to be fiery and was all running with bizarre, unspeakably magnificent and menacing visions. And sometimes he seemed to come to his senses and immediately began to cry bitterly and pitifully, begging (and as if quite reasonably) to give him red bast shoes:
Mommy, give it! Mommy dear, what are you doing!
And the mother threw herself on her knees and beat her chest:
Lord help me! Lord, protect!
And when it finally dawned, under the windows, through the roar and roar of the blizzard, I could hear quite clearly, not at all like I had been imagining all night, that someone was driving up, that someone’s muffled voices were being heard, and then a hasty, ominous knock on the window.
These were the Novosel men who brought the dead body of Nefed, white, frozen, completely covered in snow, lying on his back in the sledges. The men were traveling from the city, they themselves got lost all night, and at dawn they fell into some meadows, drowned along with their horse in terrible snow and were completely desperate, they decided to disappear, when suddenly they saw someone’s feet in felt boots sticking out of the snow. They rushed to shovel the snow, picked up the body, it turned out to be a familiar person. “That’s the only way we were saved when we realized that these meadows were farmsteads, Protasovskie, and that there was housing on the mountain, two steps away...
In Nefed's bosom lay brand new baby shoes and a bottle of magenta.
