A comprehensive analysis of A. Blok's poem “On valor, on exploits, on glory ...

Read the verse "About valor, about exploits, about glory" by Alexander Alexandrovich Blok is offered to students in grade 11 at a literature lesson. At home, he is asked to learn completely by heart. On our website you can download it to your gadget for free or read it online.

The text of Blok's poem "On valor, on exploits, on glory" was written in 1908. It is dedicated to the poet's wife Lyubov Mendeleeva. Alexander Alexandrovich had a very difficult relationship with her. They met in childhood. Then for some time they did not see each other. In their youth they met again. The poet fell deeply in love with her and, in the end, in 1903, they signed. They then converged, then diverged, but nevertheless, she was a muse for him all his life. This work was created after her next departure. In it, he writes that she left him on a damp night in a blue cloak. With the help of the color of his clothes, he tries to convey to the reader that she did not just leave him. She went to the other person. The blue color symbolizes treason. Blok was very worried about this event. He could not understand why she did it. He couldn't think of anything but her. In verse, he writes that he began to drink a lot, change women, but this did not help him to forget. She appeared before his eyes all the time. Even in his sleep, he constantly dreamed of her. He called Lyubov Mendeleev back, but she did not come back. For Alexander Alexandrovich, her departure in the end was marked not only by the loss of her beloved, but also by the loss of his youth. All his dreams, thoughts, desires were associated with her, but she was no longer there. And that young ardent boy, hopelessly in love with her, was gone. In the last stanza, we learn that after a while he was still able to cope with the pain of loss, he forgot his beloved. In it, Alexander Alexandrovich writes that he removed the portrait of his beloved from the table.

About valor, about exploits, about glory
I was forgetting on a woeful land
When your face is plain framed
Before me shone on the table.

But the hour has come and you left home.
I threw the cherished ring into the night.
You gave your destiny to another
And I forgot the beautiful face.

Days flew by, spinning in a cursed swarm ...
Wine and passion tormented my life ...
And I remembered you before the analogue,
And he called you as his youth ...

I called you, but you didn't look back
I shed tears, but you did not descend.
You sadly wrapped yourself in a blue cloak,
On a damp night you left the house.

I don't know where your pride is
You, dear, you, tender, have found ...
I'm fast asleep, I dream of your blue cloak,
In which you left on a damp night ...

Do not dream of tenderness, of glory,
All is over, youth is over!
Your face in its simple frame
I took it off the table with my own hand.

Alexander Blok devoted many of his works to the theme of love. He put his whole essence, emotions, experiences into these works.

Being an extremely romantic person, generous with spiritual personal feelings, he literally created a school of love experiences with his poems.

Dedicating poems to his muse, his beautiful lady, the poet literally dissolves in his own emotional impulses and uneasy moods. This is the highest value in his life.

Blok considered the pinnacle of relationships - spiritual closeness.

The history of the conception and creation of the poem

Blok's poem "On valor, on exploits, on glory ..." was created on real events that happened to the poet himself. It is known that when he saw his future wife for the first time, the author was captivated and delighted. That is why the lyrics of this period are so passionate and so impressionable. He hoped that the marriage with the woman he loved would be happy. But everything turned out to be completely different from what the poet had planned.

Lyubov Mendeleeva, the poet's wife, turned out to be not as romantic as Alexander Blok wanted. Very quickly, their relationship in marriage began to disintegrate, and already in 1908 she left her husband, allegedly leaving on tour with the Meyerhold Theater. By the way, in the same year on December 30, the poet writes this amazing, but sad poem about his sad love. It is known that Lyubov Mendeleeva, after several years of marriage, went to another - the famous poet A. Bely. But then she returned to Alexander Blok again, even regretted that she had made such a gross mistake in her life. And the poet forgives her, since during this time he also had several romantic hobbies.

But something Lyubov Mendeleeva lacked in marriage. She again got carried away by others and went to him. From this person, she gives birth to a son, but after that she again decides to return to the poet. All this time, they did not interrupt the connection, since Alexander Blok himself insisted on friendship, for whom spiritual closeness was always more important than physical. It is known that they had known each other since early childhood, but then, after parting for a while, they met again. After they began to live together, the poet did not want any carnal relationship, since for him it was secondary and darkened spiritual intimacy. Lyubov Mendeleeva was an actress who, every time after her tours and after new hobbies, still returned to Alexander Blok.

All these love triangles eventually splashed out in 1908 into a lyrical work.

About valor, about exploits, about glory
I was forgetting on a woeful land
When your face is plain framed
Before me shone on the table.

But the hour has come and you left home.
I threw the cherished ring into the night.
You gave your destiny to another
And I forgot the beautiful face.

Days flew by, spinning in a cursed swarm ...
Wine and passion tormented my life ...
And I remembered you before the analogue,
And he called you like his youth ...

I called you, but you didn't look back
I shed tears, but you did not descend.
You sadly wrapped yourself in a blue cloak,
On a damp night you left the house.

I don't know where my pride is sheltered
You, dear, you are gentle, found ...
I'm fast asleep, I dream of your blue cloak,

In which you left on a damp night ...
Do not dream of tenderness, of glory,
All is over, youth is over!
Your face in its simple frame
I took it off the table with my own hand.


With great sadness, the poet describes the situation in which he found himself. The departure of the beloved is a tragedy that is played out in front of the reader. Complete despair and disappointment grips the main character "I threw the cherished ring into the night."

Memories remain, a bright image, and as proof that everything was there, a photograph on the table “your face in a simple frame”. The sadness and pain of loss does not evoke negative feelings. The main character recalls the bright image “in front of the analogue”. Even the fact that her beloved went to another man does not allow her to tarnish her image.

The poet does not blame anyone for his suffering, not a single bad word is said about the woman who has passed away. The hero has no choice but to accept his fate. With a heavy heart, he mentally lets go of the object of his adoration.

To cope with the loss more easily, the abandoned lyricist removes the photograph of the woman with his hand, hoping that it will become easier for him.

Composition "About valor, about exploits, about glory ..."

All Blok's poem is divided into three large parts: the first is the author is trying to forget the woman he loves, the second is his memory of her, the third is the decision to let go. he ends up removing her picture from his desk. The composition in the work is circular and helps the author to show the present, past and what awaits in the future.

The poet, trying to explain his main idea to the reader, uses a large number of verbs, but only all of them are used in the past tense. The poet shows that everything has already passed, and now there is no suffering at all in his life. The author speaks of those feelings that he has already experienced, just a memory of them remains. The soul of the protagonist has now calmed down and he can even sleep, calmly and without worries.

The female image is interesting, which is shown by Alexander Blok in just a few outline-descriptions. She is beautiful, gentle, independent, fearless and proud. The poet's attitude to her is tender, he seems to create a deity out of her. And her photograph, like an icon, stood on his table. He dreams of her as if she is bliss; dreams of her give the poet joy, not suffering. Maybe that's why the author chooses for this poem the form of a message - a declaration of love.

Expressive means

The declaration of love, which sounds in the poem of Alexander Blok, refers to the time when they were with their beloved woman, but now this time is gone and will never return. The author tries to use as many expressive means as possible that diversify the literary text:

★ Metaphors.
★ Anaphora.
★ Epithets.
★ Syntactic parallelism.
★ Comparisons.
★ Periphrase.
★ Impersonations.
★ Inversion.
★ Ellipsis.


All this helps the perception of the poem. By the end of the work, the reader sincerely sympathizes with the author, sharing his tragedy.

Symbols in the poem


One of the symbols that the author successfully introduced into the text is a ring. Its protagonist throws into the night as an indication of a complete break. The rings that the spouses gave each other are no longer a symbol of love and loyalty, so there is no need to stand on ceremony with this accessory.

The second symbol is a blue cloak, which is repeated several times in the text. The cloak is a symbol of the road, and the blue itself is anxiety and loneliness. Blue is also the color of treason. Our lyric hero has everything mixed up from the betrayal of his beloved woman and disappointment, and Blok chooses exactly the blue cloak to show the tragedy of the situation even more vividly.

Photography becomes a symbol of love and tenderness, and the author emphasizes several times “in a simple frame”. The author is so in love that he does not care what quality the frame is. Photo is dear to my heart.

Analysis of the poem


The love story described in the poem is controversial and controversial. The former happiness cannot be returned. The problem that has arisen in family life is fateful rock!

Alexander Blok treated his own wife more like a muse, like a creative inspirer. And Lyubov Mendeleeva, although she was a man of art, an actress, apparently, wanted to remain an earthly woman. This was the contradiction between the spouses, so talented and so different.

For a poet, his wife is not only a source of purity. He associates it with freshness, with youth. He notes that after her departure there is a farewell to her youth "Everything is over, youth is gone!" As if with the departure of the woman, the main character lost all landmarks, but realized that this was the point of no return. Point of no return to youth, love, past happiness.

Hopes have dashed, so he removes the portrait of his beloved woman from the table at the very end of the poem. It is difficult for him to do this, but he understands that he must. The poet showed the reader that reason nevertheless won out over feelings, and no matter how sad it was for him, he still made the final act. This decision turned out to be the most correct and correct one. Now this tremendous feeling of love will no longer bring him so much pain and suffering. And maybe soon happiness will appear in his life, and sadness and tragedy will go away.

About valor, about exploits, about glory
I was forgetting on a woeful land
When your face is plainly framed
Before me shone on the table.

But the hour has come and you left home.
I threw the cherished ring into the night.
You gave your destiny to another
And I forgot the beautiful face.

Days flew by, spinning in a cursed swarm ...
Wine and passion tormented my life ...
And I remembered you before the analogue,
And he called you as his youth ...

I called you, but you didn't look back
I shed tears, but you did not descend.
You sadly wrapped yourself in a blue cloak,
On a damp night you left the house.

I don't know where your pride is
You, dear, you, tender, have found ...
I sleep soundly, I dream of your blue cloak,
In which you left on a damp night ...

Do not dream of tenderness, of glory,
All is over, youth is over!
Your face in its simple frame
I took it off the table with my own hand.

Analysis of the poem "On valor, on exploits, on glory" by Blok

Blok's poem "About valor, about exploits, about glory ..." refers to the poet's love lyrics. It is dedicated to a real event in life. Blok wrote it in 1908, immediately after his wife left him. It should be noted that their relationship was very strange. The poet's wife, L. Mendeleev, was an actress, which left a very big imprint on her life. Strong family relationships rarely develop between creative people. Stormy life constantly pushes them in search of new strong impressions. This is what happened in the Blok family. Mendeleeva left him for the sake of another poet -. Blok was upset by the betrayal of his wife, who for a long time was a creative muse for him.

The author's deep personal experience is felt in the poem. He does not use the complex symbolism inherent in his early work. The pain of a deceived person is felt behind every line. The image of a "face in a simple frame" is a portrait of his wife that was constantly on the poet's desk. In it he found the source of his inspiration.

The first time after his wife's betrayal, the author was at the mercy of anger and misunderstanding that gripped him. He throws away the "cherished ring" and assures himself that he has forgotten about the ungrateful woman forever. The lyrical hero is looking for a way out in "wine and passion". But gradually he is overwhelmed by memories of a happy past. The marriage was concluded at an early age, therefore, Blok associates betrayal of his wife with the loss of youth.

The poet is trying to return his beloved. But his pleas and tears remain unanswered. Here one more symbol of the work appears - the "blue cloak" in which the wife left home. Blok no longer has anger in his soul, he turns to his ex-wife with gentle words: "sweet, gentle." Even in a dream, he is constantly haunted by the image of the "blue cloak", which in one night broke the poet's whole life in two.
The poem ends with the admission that both youth and love are irrevocably gone. Carefree dreams left the poet forever. Cleansing the table from the "face in a simple frame" becomes a symbolic farewell action.

The piece still did not become the final point. Yielding to Blok's pleas, his wife returned to him, but left again after some time. Until the poet's death, this mysterious relationship continued. He himself, having lost faith in pure love, started short-term novels. But the first wife forever remained for him a symbol of his first immaculate love.

17.11.2011 15:05:00
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Victor, let me play a little hooligan. :))
An excerpt from the novel "..."

Igor knocked over the glass and with an artistic gesture grabbed the blue volume from the shelf.

With your permission, ladies and gentlemen, let us take Blok. I beg your pardon, San Sanych, I will slightly shake your tripod with incense. What is the most famous poem of the great poet? Well, except for the poem "The Twelve"? Of course, this is: "About valor, about exploits, about glory." But! Think about it: the poem is entirely based on logical blunders. We read the first stanza:

"About valor, about exploits, about glory
I was forgetting on a woeful land
When your face is in plain frames
Before me shone on the table. "

What is it about? - Igoresha looked around the audience. - Some time ago, the lyrical hero was in love. He even forgot that usually men are much more interested in than some kind of beloved woman - about fame. Of course, he was apart from his beloved. From the lady of the heart, only “a face in a simple frame” remained - a photograph or a portrait.

"But the hour has come and you left home ..."

Hello, please! It turns out that in the previous stanza she lived with him, this woman? She sat next to me, looked, for example, out the window, and at that time he looked at her portrait shining on the table. Apparently the portrait shone better. And he stared at the portrait, not at his lady. Ha, dear lire. hero! I know why she left you. I would have done the same in her place.

“But the hour has come and you left home,
I threw the cherished ring into the night.
You gave your destiny to another
And I forgot the beautiful face. "

Forgot? So he threw away the portrait? Aha, in the night with the coveted ring. If the portrait continued to stand on the table, the hero would not forget his face. About the epithets "cherished" (ring) and "beautiful" (face), I am already silent.

This is the style of a cruel romance, ”Lucy finally said. “Such things are permissible in it.

“I called you, but you didn’t look back,
I shed tears, but you did not descend
You sadly wrapped yourself in a blue cloak,
On a damp night you left home. "

Yes, this is a complete failure! Four verb rhymes in a row! And what! "She went down, she went away," "I looked back, I turned around!" "I shed tears ..." - a good tearful hero dreaming of glory! Any editor seeing such a helpless technique is obliged to close the manuscript and return it to the author. But this is Blok! Genius! He can! And, by the way, according to the logic of the plot development, it turns out that the heroine again (again!) Left. When did she come back? There is nothing about this in the text!

“I don’t know where my pride is
You, dear, you, tender, found ...
I'm fast asleep, I dream of your blue cloak,
In which you left on a damp night .. ".

"I am sound asleep." Lucy, how would you react to such a confession from a gentleman? Guys, if you ever want to tell your beloved that you feel bad without her, do not tell her that you have a sound sleep and a good appetite! Further, on the psychology of lyre. hero: he sheds tears, then fast asleep. Let me remind Stanislavsky: I don’t believe!

“Don't dream of tenderness, of glory,
Everything is over, youth is over!
Your face in its simple frame
I took it off the table with my own hand. "

How can you put "tenderness" and "glory" in one semantic row? It's like “warm” and “green” - the words don't fit together. A classic mistake of inexperienced poetry. As for the “face in a simple frame”, it was, in theory, removed from the table three more stanzas ago. Remember when lire. has the hero forgot his face? How did that face end up on the table again?

And the epithets ?! The cloak is blue, the frame is simple, the night is damp. Banality on banality. And where is the symbolism for which Blok is so famous? Where, in what lines can it be found and evaluated here? And this creation is passed off as an example of poetry? In my opinion, all this - a ring-face, found and gone, gone and condescended - does not stand up to the slightest criticism.

I butchered Blok like a herring, ”Lucy smiled tightly. - It's funny.

Of course, - Dimka finally broke through Igor's monologue, - in order to evaluate these poems, you need to understand their context, namely, to have an idea of \u200b\u200bthe personalities of Alexander Blok and Lyubov Mendeleeva. The readers - and these were people from their own circle - saw in these verses more than just words. Symbolism just implies that there is some hidden, sacred meaning. It was believed that this secret knowledge was available to "dedicated" contemporaries of the Blok. And you, Igorek, dissected the text as a set of words, according to their first plan. With such an analysis, the whole spirit of the era evaporated.

Thanks for explaining, damn it. But let me do a little hooliganism, old man, to amuse Lucy. And you must admit, Dimych: if today someone brought you such poems, without naming the author, you would gouge them cleaner than me! I did not want to discredit San Sanych at all. I have a different goal: to show how the criteria of perfection and beauty can change depending on the era. Even in such a detailed habitual environment as poetics. Lucy is right: today such a text can only be perceived as a cruel romance. Many masterpieces of the past are, shall we say, not relevant today. But the paradox of history is that the work, in fact, is long gone, and the fame of its author lasts.

And in this poem I am most sorry for his heroine - Lyuba Mendeleev, - Lucy shrugged her shoulder. “They made an idol out of her during her lifetime and put her on a pedestal. No one remembers her tragedy on this pillar. All - ah, Blok! And she?

As Anna Akhmatova said about her memoirs, “Blok and Bely loved you. Shut up! " - tossed firewood Igorek.

Well, connoisseurs, tell me, who of the geniuses of Russian poetry rhymed "yourself-you" and "couldn't-get sick"?

Pu-shkin, - Dimych and I held out in chorus, looked at each other and laughed. - This is from the first stanza of Onegin.

Pour, boys! So what are we drinking for?

And who is in tune with the era, the problems are on the side! - Dimych immediately issued. "

Read by V. Kachalov

Alexander Aleksandrovich Blok lived and wrote in very difficult historical conditions, painfully feeling the lack of harmony in the “terrible world”. He did not feel it in his soul either. Only love was able to bring Blok that necessary, desired peace, without which it was impossible to live. Love was intended to exclude chaos not only in the soul, but also in the world around the poet. Blok deified love, which revealed to him the high meaning of life. He dedicated a large number of poems to this wonderful feeling. One of them is “On valor, on exploits, on glory ...”.
This work was written in 1908. It has the structure of a circular composition: the first line repeats the last, but is opposed to it; in the conclusion of the poem, the author seems to want to repeat the first line, but he no longer thinks about valor or deeds, he seeks at least tenderness, but does not find it either.
The genre of the poem is a love message. The hero turns to his beloved woman who left him. He has a longing desire to regain love, lost many years ago:

And I remembered you before the analogue,
And he called you like his youth ...
I called you, but you didn't look back
I shed tears, but you did not descend.
Those days, when the face of the beloved shone, was replaced by terrible days, spinning in a "cursed swarm". The image of the "terrible world" is symbolic, it is one of the key in the poem. Merging with the image of the damp night, it contrasts with the “blue cloak” of the past, the cloak in which the heroine wrapped herself when leaving home (blue is treason):

You sadly wrapped yourself in a blue cloak,
On a damp night you left the house.
I don't know where my pride is sheltered
You, dear, you, tender, found ...
I sleep soundly, I dream of your blue cloak,
In which you left on a damp night ...

Days are like nights, life seems like a dream ("I am sound asleep"). The poem contains a large number of epithets: "on a woeful land", "a treasured ring", "a cursed swarm", "on a damp night." The tenderness with which the hero recalls his beloved, comparing her with his youth: “And he called you as his youth ...”, - is emphasized in the work by such epithets as: “beautiful face”, “you, dear”, “you , tender ”. There are personifications and metaphors in the poem: “when your face in a simple frame in front of me shone on the table”, “I threw the cherished ring into the night”, “you gave your destiny to another”, “the days flew by”, “wine and passion tormented my life ”.
If you carefully read the poem "About valor, about exploits, about glory ...", then it is easy to see that it echoes with the poem by Alexander Pushkin "I remember a wonderful moment ...". Blok:

When your face is plain framed
Before me shone on the table.
In Pushkin:

I remember a wonderful moment:
You appeared before me.

“And I have forgotten a beautiful face” - “and I have forgotten your gentle voice”; “Days flew by” - “years went by”, etc. But, despite such a similar scenario, the finals of the works are completely opposite: Pushkin's soul awakens by the end of the poem, while in Blok we see only bitterness and despair (the hero did not return his beloved) ...
A. Blok always believed in the saving power of love, love as a cleansing light feeling and strove to give all of himself to love, great love for a woman, for the motherland. He devoted his feelings, thoughts, soul to love, which is clearly expressed in his work.