Ode "To the Death of Prince Meshchersky" even in the small number of lines (only 88!) did not resemble a vast and majestic odic work. Her soulful, sincere lyrical tone immediately attracted attention. Thematically, Derzhavin's ode linked together two directly opposite principles: eternity and death. For the poet, they were not abstract concepts, but phenomena of being that relate to each of his readers. Man is a part of nature, and therefore on the scale of the universe he is eternal, as nature itself is eternal. However, a separate human existence is transitory, short-lived and finite. Both the noble and the insignificant are equally awaiting death.
The joyful feeling of life and the tragic experience of death are combined in an ode with a deep and passionate lyric feeling. It has a plot outline. Died Prince Meshchersky, a close friend of the poet. His death, gloomy and unforgiving, struck all the more because the whole life of the prince, "the son of luxury and negligence", was "a holiday of beauty and contentment." The dramatic nature of the demise was multiplied by the opposition of these poles. The conflict developed in the ode is the conflict, the whole figurative system of the work is conflicting. And this artistic conflict, underlying the structure of Derzhavin's ode, brings the reader to the idea of \u200b\u200ba contradictory dialectical essence of the universe that cannot be reduced to unity:
Joy, joy and love,
Where kupno shone with health,
Everyone's blood is numb there
And the spirit is troubled with sorrow.
Where the table was of food - there is a coffin;
The faces of the gravestones howl there,
The ode contains eleven stanzas, eight lines in each stanza. And all eleven contain the motive of the opposition of life and death. This opposition is declared at different levels of poetics: image, detail, syntactic construction, rhythmic sounding of lines, etc. Let us explain the idea with examples. The ode contains many tropes (that is, poetic allegories), which a little later, in the works of Zhukovsky and Batyushkov, will acquire a complete artistic form. oxymoron... This is one of the most complex and expressive tropes: when opposite meanings are combined in one image. Oxymorons convey the ambiguity of our mental states, feelings and experiences. They show the inconsistency of our actions, behavior and our whole life. The development and improvement of the oxymoron technique in poetry led to an ever greater psychological truthfulness of the work. Reading Derzhavin's ode, you constantly come across such paths:
As soon as I saw this light -
Death grinds its teeth already.
We accept our death with life,
We will be born to die.
... he wants to be himself forever -
Death comes to him like a thief,
And life suddenly kidnaps.
Here is your dust, but there is no spirit.
Where the table was of food - there is a coffin.
Where clicks were heard
The faces of the gravestones howl there,
And death looks pale at everyone.
Today is god and tomorrow is dust.
How the picture of human existence expands in these chased, almost aphoristic lines! So far, however, we will not find in them specific colorful details of the hero's life. We only learn that he was a "son of luxury" that he combined well-being with good health ("Joy, joy and love / Where kupno shone with health"). And that his death was sudden and therefore the more amazed his friends. But it is also significant that in the high odic genre the poet turned not to an important historical person, as the norms of classicism prescribed, but to a mere mortal, his acquaintance. Belinsky commented on this poetic innovation: "What led the poet to contemplate this terrible picture of the miserable fate of all things and man in particular? - The death of a face he knows. Who was this face - Potemkin, Suvorov, Bezborodko, Betsky, or another one of the historical actors of that time? - No: that was - the son of luxury, coolness and negligence! " He was an ordinary, ordinary person. Through fate an ordinary person the poet decided to comprehend a large-scale philosophical theme: the universality and omnipotence of the laws of the universe.
But the image of Death is written out in this ode colorfully and in detail. It is dynamic and deployed in a piece with impressive consistency. In the first stanza: Death "gnashes its teeth" and "slits the days of human life." In the second: "greedy Death swallows" "whole kingdoms", "smitten without pity" everything around. This is followed by the downright cosmic scope of the figurative pattern:
And her stars will crush
And her suns will be extinguished,
And it threatens all worlds.
Creating this very image, the poet found it possible to show bold innovation: deliberately lowering the majestic cosmic image, he included a visible and mocking detail in its contours. Grinning, Death looks at the kings, the "lush rich" and clever people - "and ... sharpens the blade of the scythe."
With all the clarity of the division into stanzas, the ode is distinguished by the fluidity of the narrative. This is facilitated by a number of artistic techniques. One of them, almost for the first time in Russian poetry, so fully applied by Derzhavin, is the method of "flowing" from one stanza into another, adjacent one. This was achieved in this way: the thought of the previous stanza, concentrated in its last line, was repeated by the first line of the next stanza. And then, with this whole stanza, the thought developed and strengthened. The recurring thought and image are called leitmotif (German word Leitmotiv, What means leading). Leitmotifs hold the story together, make it consistent and coherent. Let us show this with examples.
One of the main leitmotifs of Derzhavin's ode: Death looks at everything indifferently and dispassionately, because for it everyone is equal. This main motive of the poem falls precisely on its culminating middle part: the end of the sixth stanza. It is here that we find the line: "And death is pale at everyone." The next, seventh, stanza picks up this idea and strengthens it many times, developing and concretizing:
Looks at everyone - and at the kings,
To whom the worlds are cramped in the power;
Looks at the lush rich
That idols are in gold and silver;
Looks at beauty and beauty,
Looks at the sublime mind,
Looks at the daring forces -
And ... sharpens the blade of the scythe.
Another example. The last line of the eighth stanza declares a new leitmotif: the transience of human life, flying like a dream. The thought sounds like this: "And all, like a dream, your century has passed." The ninth stanza picks up this thought and continues:
Like a dream, like a sweet dream
My youth has also disappeared;
Beauty is not much undead,
Not so much joy delights
The mind is not so frivolous
I'm not so happy
Tormented by desire for honor,
Calling, I hear the noise of glory.
The verb of the tenses! metal ringing!
Your terrible voice confuses me
Calls me, calls your moan,
Calls - and brings you closer to the coffin.
I barely saw this light
Death gnashes with its teeth,
Like lightning, a scythe shines
And he cuts my days like cereals.
Nothing from fatal cocks,
No creature runs away:
The monarch and the prisoner are the food of worms,
The anger of the elements consumes the tombs;
Time gapes to erase glory:
As the waters flow fast into the sea,
So days and years flow into eternity;
Death swallows the kingdoms.
We slide the abyss at the edge,
Into which we will headlong fall;
We accept our death with life,
We will be born to die.
Without pity, all death strikes:
And the stars will crush it,
And the suns will be extinguished by it,
And it threatens all worlds.
Only a mortal does not dream of dying
And he wants to be himself eternal;
Death comes to him like a thief,
And life suddenly kidnaps.
Alas! where there is less fear for us,
There death can be comprehended more quickly;
Her and the thunders are not faster
Fly to the proud heights.
Son of luxury, cool and negligible,
Where, Meshchersky! did you hide
You left this life to the brag,
To the shores of the dead you retired;
Here is your dust, but there is no spirit.
Where is he? - He's there. - Where is it? - We don’t know.
We just cry and cry:
"Oh, woe to us born into the light!"
Joy, joy and love
Where kupno shone with health,
Everyone's blood is numb there
And the spirit is troubled with sorrow.
Where the table was of food, there is a coffin;
Where feasts resounded,
Gravestone cliques howl there,
And death looks pale at everyone.
Looks at everyone - and at the kings,
To whom the worlds are cramped in the power;
Looks at the lush rich
What are idols in gold and silver;
Looks at beauty and beauty,
Looks at the sublime mind,
Looks at the daring strength
And sharpens the blade of the scythe.
Death, trembling of nature and fear!
We are pride, we share with poverty;
Today is god, tomorrow is dust;
Today flatters hope is flattering,
And tomorrow: where are you, man?
Barely hours have elapsed
Chaos flew into the abyss,
And all, like a dream, passed your century.
Like a dream, like a sweet dream
My youth has also disappeared;
Beauty is not much undead,
Not so much joy delights
The mind is not so frivolous
I'm not so happy;
Tormented by desire for honor,
Calling, I hear the noise of glory.
But so the courage will pass
And together with him the striving for glory;
Riches acquisitive blowjob,
And in the heart of all passions there is excitement
It will pass, it will pass in its course.
Send happiness away are possible,
You are all variable and false here:
I stand at the door of eternity.
Today or tomorrow to die
Perfilyev! owes us of course -
Why torment and grieve
That your mortal friend did not live forever?
Life is an instant gift from heaven;
Arrange her for yourself
And with your pure soul
Bless the fate of the blow.
Gavrila Derzhavin, 1779
The verb of the tenses! metal ringing!
Your terrible voice confuses me
Calls me, calls your moan,
Calls - and brings you closer to the coffin.
I barely saw this light
Death gnashes with its teeth,
Like lightning, a scythe shines
And he cuts my days like cereals.
Nothing of fatal claws
No creature runs away:
The monarch and the prisoner are the food of worms,
The anger of the elements consumes the tombs;
Time gapes to erase glory:
As the waters flow fast into the sea,
So days and years flow into eternity;
Death swallows the kingdoms.
We slide the abyss at the edge,
Into which we will headlong fall;
We accept our death with life,
We will be born to die.
Without pity, all death strikes:
And the stars will crush it,
And the suns will be extinguished by it,
And it threatens all worlds.
Only a mortal does not dream of dying
And he wants to be himself eternal;
Death comes to him like a thief,
And life suddenly kidnaps.
Alas! where there is less fear for us,
There death can be comprehended more quickly;
Her and the thunders are not faster
Fly to the proud heights.
Son of luxury, cool and negligible,
Where, Meshchersky! did you hide
You left this life to the brag,
To the shores of the dead you retired;
Here is your dust, but there is no spirit.
Where is he? - He is there. -
Where exactly? - We don’t know.
We just cry and cry:
"Oh, woe to us born into the light!"
Joy, joy and love
Where kupno shone with health,
Everyone's blood is numb there
And the spirit is troubled with sorrow.
Where the table was of food, there is a coffin;
Where feasts resounded,
Gravestone cliques howl there,
And death looks pale at everyone.
Looks at everyone - and at the kings,
To whom the worlds are cramped in the power;
Looks at the lush rich
What are idols in gold and silver;
Looks at beauty and beauty,
Looks at the sublime mind,
Looks at the daring strength
And sharpens the blade of the scythe.
Death, trembling of nature and fear!
We are pride, together with poverty;
Today is god, tomorrow is dust;
Today flatters hope is flattering,
And tomorrow - where are you, man?
Barely hours have elapsed
Chaos flew into the abyss,
And all, like a dream, passed your century.
Like a dream, like a sweet dream
My youth has also disappeared;
Beauty is not much undead,
Not so much joy delights
The mind is not so frivolous
I'm not so happy;
Tormented by desire for honor,
Calling, I hear the noise of glory.
But so the courage will pass
And together with him the striving for glory;
Riches acquisitive blowjob,
And in the heart of all passions there is excitement
It will pass, it will pass in its course.
Send happiness away are possible,
You are all variable and false here:
I stand at the door of eternity.
Today or tomorrow to die
Perfilyev! we should of course:
Why torment and grieve
That your mortal friend did not live forever?
Life is an instant gift from heaven;
Arrange her for yourself
And with your pure soul
Bless the fate of the blow.
The work represents the author's reflections on death, inspired by the death of his friend. The poet did not make of him the usual eulogy eulogy, but expressed his feelings and thoughts about the fate awaiting everyone.
The image of death is portrayed, of course, as ominous. The author does not depict terrible pictures, for him the main thing is the inevitability of disappearance into oblivion. He emphasizes that the path to the grave begins from the moment of birth. The image used by him is an ordinary folklore old woman with a scythe, the goal is clearly not to inspire horror, but to remind what everyone knows.
In addition, the poet connects the image of death with the image of time, reminding once again that the death of everyone is inevitably approaching.
The author focuses on the same fate of every person, awaiting him at the end of earthly existence. He says that the position in this world in the face of death does not mean anything. For this, Derzhavin puts the tsar and the most humiliated person next to him - a prisoner of the prison. Even kingdoms and natural objects, even those as durable as the sun or stars, will face the same fate.
The poet, enhancing the painful impression he creates, uses metaphors. For example, he compares aging to doors leading to eternity. The image of clinking metal symbolizes the grip of death, the inability to get out of her hands.
However, the poet still finds consolation for himself among the bleak pictures he painted. Death is natural for him. He talks about the violent end, but about natural dying, when old age undermines strength. In death, the author of the poem sees only adherence to the inexorable laws of the universe. Since a person is supposed to die, then protesting against death is simply pointless.
In this work, there is no religious theme and even a mention of God. Most likely, this is not an expression of the author's atheism, but his unwillingness to paint a blissful picture. Derzhavin directly says that he does not know for certain the fate of those who left this world. The death of Meshchersky seemed to him a loss, the poet did not want to dilute his sorrow with consolations. He urged to calmly meet the inevitable, no matter how terrible it may seem.
Option 2
The work On the Death of Prince Meshchersky was written in 1801 in connection with understandable events. As such, the genre of obituary and epitaph has rather deep roots, but Derzhavin, as a representative of classicism, especially concentrated on such events. He often wrote odes that he dedicated to great people during his lifetime, but he was also often noted for works that were dedicated to significant figures of his time who had passed away.
In addition to considering the personality of a person, Derzhavin, as a rule, also touched on a certain philosophical question, along with particulars, he talked about the eternal and created works that are quite universal, such that could be timed not only to a certain event, but also be interpreted as poetic work timeless. The poet begins with an appeal to Meshchersky himself and a statement of the understandable fact "You left this life for the brag ...". Nevertheless, further reasoning continues in a slightly different vein and does not consider an individual person, but the general fact of the inevitability of death, which is relevant for everyone and everyone, because death occurs for any owner of the body.
Various versions of death poetry are quite common. As a rule, we are talking about some kind of female image, as well as with a certain spirit, the attributes of which are various frightening actions. So Derzhavin writes about this eternal friend of mankind as the one who: “looks at everyone,” “gnashes with her teeth,” “sharpens the blade of her scythe,” “swallows kingdoms,” “is pale,” speaks “with a terrible voice,” and much more.
Next, the topic of the great equation and the indifference of this phenomenon to people is considered. Indeed, no matter what a person is, no matter what his possibilities are, the result is always identical for a beggar and a king, a fool and a sage, a beauty and a monster. Death is completely indifferent to everything and also has the ability to destroy entire communities of people, creating epidemics, wars or something similar.
Although the reasoning is rather diverse and considers the phenomenon from different sides and in different ways, in reality Derzhavin speaks only about one thing - about the inevitability of death that will overtake everyone. He takes the example of Prince Meshchersky only in order to tell the living about the need to treat their own life appropriately and not create illusions.
Analysis of the poem On the death of Prince Meshchersky according to plan
You may be interested
- Analysis of Mayakovsky's poem About trash
Beginning with the opening lines of the poem, Mayakovsky hints that he has no aversion to people of the lower class. Describing philistinism, the poet means people who think only of themselves
- Analysis of the poem Ghosts of Bunin
Many writers and poets in their work considered the theme of life after death. Bunin was no exception, this topic also touched his work. Writing the poem "Ghosts"
- Analysis of the poem Snow will darken blue Tvardovsky
The whirling of this world is actually not always fully realized by people. It would seem that there is nothing simpler than to understand how people come into being and leave, how eras change and how simple and not quite movements of the soul pour out
- Analysis of Baratynsky's poem Spring, spring! how clean the air is
This bright poem is often read by children at competitions. Enthusiastic, optimistic mood, joy fill the very first lines. There are many exclamations, repetitions ... Shown admiration for nature, revival of life
- Analysis of the poem Dream of Nekrasov
Nekrasov Nikolai Alekseevich was born in 1821, one year with the other great creative personality - Dostoevsky F. M. Known to all of us as an outstanding poet and writer who contributed to the humanization of Russian literature
In connection with the sudden death (1779) of Prince A. I. Meshchersky - a rich Petersburg man, hospitable person, a good friend of the poet. S. V. Perfiliev (1734-1793) - friend of A. I. Meshchersky, major general, one of the tutors of the Grand Duke, the future emperor Paul I. On our website you can also read a summary and analysis of this poem.
Odes by G. R. Derzhavin "On the Death of Prince Meshchersky" and "Felitsa". Lecturer - A. Mashevsky
The verb of the tenses! metal ringing!
Your terrible voice confuses me
Calls me, calls your moan,
Calls - and brings you closer to the coffin.
I barely saw this light
Death gnashes with its teeth,
Like lightning, a scythe shines
And he cuts my days like cereals.
Nothing from fatal cocks,
No creature runs away:
The monarch and the prisoner are the food of worms,
The anger of the elements consumes the tombs;
Time gapes to erase glory:
As the waters flow fast into the sea,
So days and years flow into eternity;
Death swallows the kingdoms.
We slide the abyss at the edge,
Into which we will headlong fall;
We accept our death with life,
We will be born to die.
Without pity, all death strikes:
And the stars will crush it,
And the suns will be extinguished by it,
And it threatens all worlds.
Only a mortal does not dream of dying
And he wants to be himself eternal;
Death comes to him like a thief,
And life suddenly kidnaps.
Alas! where there is less fear for us,
There death can be comprehended more quickly;
Her and the thunders are not faster
Fly to the proud heights.
Son of luxury, cool and negligible,
Where, Meshchersky! did you hide
You left this life to the brag,
To the shores of the dead you retired;
Here is your dust, but there is no spirit.
Where is he? - He's there. - Where is it? - We don't know.
We just cry and cry:
"Oh, woe to us, born into the light!"
Joy, joy and love
Where kupno shone with health,
Everyone's blood is numb there
And the spirit is troubled with sorrow.
Where the table was of food, there is a coffin;
Where feasts resounded,
Gravestone cliques howl there,
And death looks pale at everyone.
Looks at everyone - and at the kings,
To whom the worlds are cramped in the power;
Looks at the lush rich
What are idols in gold and silver;
Looks at beauty and beauty,
Looks at the sublime mind,
Looks at the daring strength
And sharpens the blade of the scythe.
Death, trembling of nature and fear!
We are pride, we share with poverty;
Today is god, tomorrow is dust;
Today flatters hope is flattering,
And tomorrow: where are you, man?
Barely hours have elapsed
Chaos flew into the abyss,
And all, like a dream, passed your century.
Like a dream, like a sweet dream
My youth has also disappeared;
Beauty is not much undead,
Not so much joy delights
The mind is not so frivolous
I'm not so happy;
Tormented by desire for honor,
Calling, I hear the noise of glory.
But so the courage will pass
And together with him the striving for glory;
Riches acquisitive blowjob,
And in the heart of all passions there is excitement
It will pass, it will pass in its course.
Send happiness away are possible,
You are all variable and false here:
I stand at the door of eternity.
Today or tomorrow to die
Perfilyev! owes us of course
Why torment and grieve
That your mortal friend did not live forever?
Life is an instant gift from heaven;
Arrange her for yourself
And with your pure soul
Bless the fate of the blow.