[Reading] ➽ Герой нашего времени By Mikhail Lermontov – Motyourdrive.co.uk

Герой нашего времени files Герой нашего времени, read online Герой нашего времени, free Герой нашего времени, free Герой нашего времени, Герой нашего времени b5f8e25bc Questo Libro Ha Sperimentato Su Di S Ancora Recentemente La Disgraziata Fiducia Di Alcuni Lettori, E Perfino Riviste, Nel Significato Letterale Delle Parole Altri Si Sono Terribilmente Offesi, E Non Per Scherzo,di Aver Servito Da Modello Per Un Uomo Cos Immorale Come L Eroe Dei Nostri Tempi Altri Hanno Notato, Con Molta Perspicacia, Che L Autore Aveva Dipinto Il Proprio Ritratto E I Ritratti Dei Proprio Conoscenti Vecchio E Miserabile Trucco Ma, Evidentemente, La Rus Fatta In Modo Che Tutto In Essa Si Rinnova, Tranne Le Assurdit Di Questo Genere La Pi Fantastica Tra Le Fiabe Fantastiche Difficilmente Da Noi Sfugge All Accusa Di Attentare Alla Dignit Della Persona Un Eroe Dei Nostri Tempi, Signori Miei Cari, Proprio Un Ritratto, Ma Non Di Una Persona Il Ritratto Che Nasce Dai Vizi Di Tutta La Nostra Generazione, Nel Pieno Del Loro Sviluppo Mi Direte Ancora Che Un Uomo Non Pu Essere Cos Malvagio, E Io Vi Dir Che Se Avete Creduto Alla Possibile Esistenza Di Tutti Gli Scellerati Tragici E Romantici, Perch Non Credete Alla Realt Di Pe Orin Se Avete Ammirato Invenzioni Molto Pi Orribili E Mostruose, Perch Questo Carattere, Nemmeno Come Invenzione,incontra La Vostra Misericordia Non Sar Forse Perch C In Lui Pi Verit Di Quanto Vi Sareste Augurati Dite Che La Morale Da Tutto Ci Non Ne Guadagna Scusate Agli Uomini Han Dato Fin Troppi Dolciumi Perci Il Loro Stomaco Si Guastato Servono Medicine Amare, Verit Irritanti Non Pensiate,tuttavia, Dopo Quel Che Precede, Che L Autore Di Questo Libro Abbia Mai Cullato Il Fiero Sogno Di Farsi Correttore Dei Vizi Dell Umanit Dio Lo Salvi Da Questa Scortesia Si Solo Divertito A Dipingere L Uomo Contemporaneo Cos Come Lo Comprende, E, Per Sua E Per Vostra Sfortuna, Troppo Spesso L Ha Incontrato Sia Allora Cos , Che Il Male Segnalato, Ma Come Curarlo, Lo Sa Soltanto Dio Dalla Prefazione

10 thoughts on “Герой нашего времени

  1. says:

    And now Childe Harold was sore sick at heart,And from his fellow bacchanals would flee Tis said, at times the sullen tear would start,But pride congealed the drop within his e e Lord Byron, Childe Harold s Pilgrimage Canto I, Stanza VI Another life that vanished too soon Mikhail Lermontov was only 26 years old when he was killed in a duel Same fate as another Russian genius, Alexander Pushkin, to whom he dedicated his poem Death of the Poet And thus he died for vengeance vainly thirsting Secretly vexed by false hopes deceived His lips forever sealed. Lermontov s poetry and prose are equally superb At such a young age, he became one of the most important Russian writers of all time And another favorite of mine That was a nice surprise, because I honestly did not have high hopes for this book I am not sure why I did not expect such a beautiful and evocative writing, powerful enough to fill my heart with delight and break it, at the same time Little I knew that Lermontov himself was kind of the personification of the Byronic hero, like the main character of this book, Pechorin, a man made of flesh, bones, arrogance, cynicism and melancholy A captive of his own pessimism and that familiar feeling of emptiness and perpetual loss A victim of the world.Yes, such has been my lot from very childhood All have read upon my countenance the marks of bad qualities, which were not existent but they were assumed to exist and they were born I was modest I was accused of slyness I grew secretive I profoundly felt both good and evil no one caressed me, all insulted me I grew vindictive I was gloomy other children merry and talkative I felt myself higher than they I was rated lower I grew envious I was prepared to love the whole world no one understood me I learned to hate My colourless youth flowed by in conflict with myself and the world fearing ridicule, I buried my best feelings in the depths of my heart, and there they died I spoke the truth I was not believed I began to deceive 93 I have always read that bad people were not born, but made almost embracing the argument that a warm environment can overcome any genetic predisposition I m not quite sure about that Pechorin clearly thought that was his case He was ready to love and the world taught him to hate.This book is not a novel per se it is divided into five novellas Bela , Maxim Maximovich , and three extracts from Pechorin s diary simply brilliant.The first part serves as an introduction to Pechorin s character A young officer and Captain Maximovich started talking about the latter s peculiar friend, Pechorin, whom he had met in the Caucases This young man had met a beautiful princess named Bela that soon became his next challenge Bela s brother, Azamat, a whiny, obnoxious teenager, really wanted somebody else s horse And Pechorin offered his assistance in exchange for Bela Yes, a woman for a horse So the little brat kidnapped his own sister and then he got his beloved horse Charming fella.By that time, I was a bit bored I was about to take the narrator s offer Therefore, you must wait a bit, or, if you like, turn over a few pages 26 I didn t I followed his advice Though I do not advise you to do the latter, because the crossing of Mount Krestov or, as the erudite Gamba calls it, le mont St Christophe is worthy of your curiosity 26 Yeah It was not.In conclusion, time went by and Pechorin s free spirit got bored of Bela While reading his response to Maximovich when he asked him about the princess I thought Finally A first sign that this book can be amazing And it certainly was A young man with a void in his heart, with needs that were impossible to satisfy, with the thought of death always in his head, couldn t be around the same people for a long time He started to feel suffocated and the urge of escaping took over him Like a Russian Childe Harold, the only option was to get away, to travel To experience new things so he can reduce that void, to vanish his ennui This situation is described with such a beautiful, dazzling writing This next passage does not have spoilers, but I hid it because it is quite long and some people might prefer not to read the whole thing but I just couldn t quote less without damaging the essence So, you have been warned view spoiler Mine is an unfortunate disposition whether it is the result of my upbringing or whether it is innate I know not I only know this, that if I am the cause of unhappiness in others I myself am no less unhappy Of course, that is a poor consolation to them only the fact remains that such is the case In my early youth, from the moment I ceased to be under the guardianship of my relations, I began madly to enjoy all the pleasures which money could buy and, of course, such pleasures became irksome to me Then I launched out into the world of fashion and that, too, soon palled upon me I fell in love with fashionable beauties and was loved by them, but my imagination and egoism alone were aroused my heart remained empty I began to read, to study but sciences also became utterly wearisome to me I saw that neither fame nor happiness depends on them in the least, because the happiest people are the uneducated, and fame is good fortune, to attain which you have only to be smart Then I grew bored Soon afterwards I was transferred to the Caucasus and that was the happiest time of my life I hoped that under the bullets of the Chechenes boredom could not exist a vain hope In a month I grew so accustomed to the buzzing of the bullets and to the proximity of death that, to tell the truth, I paid attention to the gnats and I became bored than ever, because I had lost what was almost my last hope When I saw Bela in my own house when, for the first time, I held her on my knee and kissed her black locks, I, fool that I was, thought that she was an angel sent to me by sympathetic fate Again I was mistaken the love of a savage is little better than that of your lady of quality, the barbaric ignorance and simplicity of the one weary you as much as the coquetry of the other I am not saying that I do not love her still I am grateful to her for a few fairly sweet moments I would give my life for her only I am bored with her Whether I am a fool or a villain I know not but this is certain, I am also most deserving of pity perhaps than she My soul has been spoiled by the world, my imagination is unquiet, my heart insatiable To me everything is of little moment I become as easily accustomed to grief as to joy, and my life grows emptier day by day One expedient only is left to me travel 31 32 hide spoiler

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    1825 1917 25 .

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    I sing whatever comes into my head It ll be heard by who it s meant for, and who isn t meant to hear won t understand Free will is the ability to chooseNo I would like to believe so But there are countless limitations and restrictions which make me wonder why we have been granted with it, if we are going to be judged and chastised for our choices This is such an argument of a man, Pechorin, who is often alienated for his nullifying philosophical and vilifying romantic views.There is something superfluous about this story, a superficial one might think I ask you, dear readers Haven t you ever felt superfluous about your life at all If the answer is NO, you better not read this book and also my super superfluous words If the answer is YES, I welcome you to read further, starting with the words of the poet whose words on superfluity are too profound to be categorized as superfluous That man of loneliness and mystery, Scarce seen to smile, and seldom heard to sigh Whose name appalls the fiercest of his crew, And tints each swarthy cheek with sallower hue Still sways their souls with that commanding art That dazzles, leads, yet chills the vulgar heart What is that spell, that thus his lawless train Confess and envy yet oppose in vain What should it be, that thus their faith can bind The power of Thought the magic of the Mind Linked with success, assumed and kept with skill, That molds another s weakness to its will Wields with their hands, but, still to these unknown, Makes even their mightiest deeds appear his own Such hath it been shall be beneath the Sun The many still must labour for the one Tis Nature s doom but let the wretch who toils, Accuse not hate not him who wears the spoils Oh if he knew the weight of splendid chains, How light the balance of his humbler pains George Gordon, Lord ByronOur hero, a character of incompatibility, is not a romantic hero with overwhelming love for his women But, at the same time, his feelings for them are genuine, even if they are only transient The futility of existence and the certainty of death drives him away from the banal lives which others live, to live in an ineffable solitude His fleeting romantic adventures do not give him much hope He was strangely struck by the feminine tenderness and servile relationships Fickle friendships made him disillusioned Triumph over others losses and his being the reason for them made him relish his existence Vanity extends his claws deep inside him But he can t help despising himself There is nowhere he can go There is no love which can absolve him from his troubled life Lost loves make him wretched Friendship has become or less an obligation rather than an enchantment Life has become an After Life he is afraid of Duel has become his destiny.No our hero is a romantic hero who sulks in his melancholy for his superfluous life His women feel No he is not an infidel that they are simply being enslaved by his futile pursuits and aimless adventures He is not the one who is meant to be happy With his growing dissatisfaction with his life, everyone gets rid of him or, sometimes, he forces them to But nobody can understand how far he would go, just to take even a last look of his lost love, even if he needs to torment another soul willy nilly Such is the ordeal of our hero.Closing the argument with the preface from the author, A Hero of Our Time, my dear readers, is indeed a portrait, but not of one man It is a portrait built up of all our generation s vices in full bloom You will again tell me that a human being cannot be so wicked, and I will reply that if you can believe in the existence of all the villains of tragedy and romance, why wouldn t believe that there was a Pechorin If you could admire far terrifying and repulsive types, why aren t you merciful to this character, even if it is fictitious Isn t it because there s truth in it than you might wish Note Better read with Nabokov s translation Truly Splendid I decided that I am not going to write anything about this book which is quite amazing and puzzling in its own ways And it is indeed sad what had happened to Lermontov.Check out Florencia s amazing review of this great book.

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    Vrouwen houden alleen van mannen die ze niet kennen Aan de hand van vijf ingenieus verbonden novellen krijgen we een indringend psychologisch portret van de jonge officier Petsjorin, het prototype van de Russische overtollige mens Petsjorin is een gedesillusioneerde, ale dandy Ambivalentie viert hoogtij, nog versterkt door knipoogjes naar de clich s van het romantische genre.Puntig, lyrisch, sarcastisch, vitaal proza zoals het tegenwoordig niet meer geschreven wordt Helaas was Ruslands tweede dichter hetzelfde lot beschoren als zijn grote held Poesjkin hij stierf op 27 jarige leeftijd in een banaal duel.

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    . 1 ..

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    1814 1841 1798 .

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    One of the most interesting, eye opening books I ve read I m not that familiar with Russian literature, but the I read, the I m falling in love with them This book has got to be one of the most extended, sustained meditation on the egotistical mind of a young casanova But strangely, the novel doesn t make me despise its protagonist There is something intriguing, almost refreshing about the calculated cruelty yet disarming honesty of the protagonist He knows he can t commit and says so Then he ponders about the meaning of life and why he was born when he causes the misery of so many around him This book raises the questions of why we do somehow, irrationally, get attracted to such characters As a female reader, I m just amazed by the intricacies of the protagonist s mind and I loved the experience of entering into his psyche with his elaborate schemes to seduce women This is definitely also a great book for those who want to educate themselves on how crafty a casanova s mind can be while some male readers may secretly admire the protagonist s antics and admit him to be a hero of our time I highly recommend it

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    A Hero of Our Time, part swashbuckler, part travelogue, which first appeared in 1839, cleary had an influence over another certain famous Russian writer who sported a great big long grey beard Infact this could quite easily have been written by Tolstoy himself Opening in a vast landscape, the narrator is travelling through the Caucasus, he explains that he is not a novelist, but a travel writer, making notes Think a sort of Paul Theroux type The mountainous region were supposedly fabled, Noah s ark apparently passed by the twin peaks of Mount Elborus Must have been a wonderful spectacle for the elephants, giraffes, and rhinos Beyond the natural border of the River Terek was an alluring and dangerous terrain, where Ossetians, Georgians, Tatars and Chechens harried Russian soldiers and travellers, or offered uncertain alliances But just who could you trust Lermontov s narrator marvels at the purity of the mountain air, and the delights of welcoming a sense of withdrawing from the world But he also feels a sombre and bewildering depth, that the hidden valleys hold a foreboding He meets an old Caucasus hand, a staff captain called Maxim Maximych, who has been in Chechnya for a decade and who warns him about the dangerous ways of the region s inhabitants Maxim Maximych begins to rabble on to his new found friend about the ravishing tale of a young officer he met five years earlier, Pechorin who is now dead had a lively energy and a changeable temperament, he could hunt for days one minute, and hide in his room the next Whilst spending time at Maximych s fort, Bela, the daughter of a Tatar prince caught his eye, casting flirtatious looks at him as one does And even sings him a love song Ahhh, how sweet.This story then involves the Prince s son, who is after the horse of a local bandit, Pechorin offers him a deal He steals the horse, if Bela is delivered to him But after the exchange, the bandit goes looking for blood.Unlike Tolstoy, this is not some huge Russian beast of a novel, as it sits comfortably at under two hundred pages Although there turns out to be three different narrators, the whole thing works well, and is perfectly graspable for anyone who has read any of the old Russian classics Lermontov doesn t beat around the bush when kicking things off, and builds a picture straight away The book makes its points efficiently, in a little amount of time The character of Pechorin was far intriguing than anyone else, and his part of the overall story I found the better What is striking is Lermontov s handling of form, the way Pechorin emerges gradually in a fragmented narrative that anticipates Modernism in its perspectival shifts The book not only pleased Leo, but Gogol, Dostoevsky and Chekhov as well Lermontov deserves to mingle in with this crowd He really wouldn t be out of place He demonstrates that literature is the most beautiful artform when written in this fashion.

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