The lace-maker Domna Platonovna, known to the narrator, “has the most immense and varied acquaintance” and is sure that she owes this to her simplicity and “kindness”. People, according to Domna Platonovna, are vile and generally "bastard", and no one can be trusted, which is confirmed by frequent cases when Domna Platonovna is deceived. The lacemaker is “wider across herself” and constantly complains about her health and a powerful dream, from which she suffers a lot of grief and misfortune. Domna Platonovna’s temperament is inoffensive, she is indifferent to earnings and, being carried away, like an “artist”, with her works, she has many private affairs, for which lace plays only the role of a “pass type”: she woo, finds money on mortgages and carries notes everywhere. At the same time, he retains a subtle appeal and says about a pregnant woman: "she is in her marital interest."
Having met the narrator, who lives in the apartment of the Polish colonel, whom Domna Platonovna is looking for a groom, she notices that a Russian woman in love is stupid and pathetic. And he tells the story of Colonel Domutkovskaya, or Leonidka. Leonidka "poked around" with her husband, and she has a tenant, a "friend", who does not pay the rent. Domna Platonovna promises to find Leonidka such that "there will be both love and help," but Leonidka refuses. The lodger whips Leonidka with a whip, and after a while they have such a "carom" that the "barbarian" disappears altogether. Leonidka is left without furniture, moves to live with the "first swindler" Dislensha and, despite the advice of Domna Platonovna, is going to obey her husband. Having received no answer to her letter of repentance, she decides to go to her husband and asks Domna Platonovna for money for the journey. The lace maker does not give money, confident that a woman cannot get out of trouble except through her own fall.
At this time, a familiar colonel asks Domna Platonovna to introduce him to some "educated" young lady and transfers money for her. The "scoundrel" colonel begins to cry, does not take the money and runs away. Two days later he returns and offers his sewing services. Domna Platonovna urges her not to "warp", but Leonidka does not want to go to her husband for "nasty money" and goes to rich people to ask for help, but in the end she "decides" and promises "not to be capricious". Domna Platonovna gives her a closet in her apartment, buys clothes and makes arrangements with a familiar general. But when he comes, the colonel does not unlock the door. Domna Platonovna calls her a “freeloader” and a “noble galtepa” and beats her so much that she feels sorry for herself. Leonidka looks crazy, cries, calls God and mother. Domna Platonovna sees in a dream Leonida Petrovna with a small dog and wants to pick up a stick from the ground to drive the dog away, but a dead hand appears from under the ground and grabs the lace maker. The next day, Leonidka meets with the general, after which he completely changes: he refuses to talk with Domna Platonovna, returns her money for the apartment, categorically refusing to pay "for the trouble." The colonel is no longer going to go to her husband, because "such scoundrels" do not return to their husbands. She rents an apartment and, leaving the lace-maker, adds that she is not angry with Domna Platonovna, because she is "completely stupid." A year later, Domna Platonovna finds out that Leonidka "spends romances" not only with the general, but also with his son, and decides to renew their acquaintance. She comes to the colonel, when the general's daughter-in-law is sitting with her, Leonidka offers her "coffee" and sends her to the kitchen, thanking the lace maker for making her "rubbish". Domna Platonovna is offended, scolds and talks about "pur miur love" to the general's daughter-in-law. A scandal flares up, after which the general abandons the colonel, and she begins to live in such a way that "now there is one prince, and tomorrow another count."
Domna Platonovna informs the narrator that in her youth she was a simple woman, but she was so “trained” that now she can’t trust anyone. Returning home from an acquaintance of the merchant's wife, who treats her with liquor, Domna Platonovna spares money for a cab, goes on foot, and some gentleman snatches the bag from her hands. The narrator suggests that it would be better if she did not skimp and paid money to the cabbie, but the lace maker is sure that they all have “one strike”, and tells how once she was driven “with a fall” because of little money. Once on the ground, she meets an officer who scolds the cab driver and defends the lace maker. But upon returning home, Domna Platonovna discovers that instead of lace, there are only “thrown trousers” in the bundle: as the police explain, this officer came from the bathhouse and simply robbed the lace maker. On another occasion, Domna Platonovna buys a shirt on the street that has turned into an old washcloth at home. And when Domna Platonovna decides to woo the surveyor, his friend says that he is already married. The lace maker asks for a friend, but the land surveyor, a man who “will confuse and impoverish the entire state,” slanders the groom with a “navel” and upsets the wedding. One day, Domna Platonovna even gives herself up to be scolded by the demons: returning from the fair, she finds herself in a field at night, “dark” faces are spinning around and a little man the size of a rooster invites her to make love, dances waltzes on the lacemaker’s stomach, and disappears in the morning. Domna Platonovna coped with the demon, but failed with the man: she buys furniture for one merchant’s wife, sits on top of it on a cart, but falls through and “shines naked” throughout the city until the policeman stops the cart. Domna Platonovna cannot understand in any way whether the sin lies on her for the fact that she exchanged husbands with her godfather in a dream. After that, and after the story with the captive Turk Ispulatka, Domna Platonovna is “sewn up” at night.
A few years later, the narrator takes a poor man to a typhoid hospital and recognizes Domna Platonovna, who has changed a lot, in the “older one”. Some time later, the narrator is summoned to Domna Platonovna, and she asks him to take care of the piano student Valerochka, who robbed his master. It is not possible to save the thief, Domna Platonovna fades away and prays, and the narrator admits that she loves Valerochka and asks for pity, while everyone laughs at her. A month later, Domna Platonovna dies from rapid exhaustion, and gives the chest and her “simple belongings” to the narrator so that he gives everything to Valerka.
retold
The work "Non-lethal golovan", summary described below is a story about a peasant, common man, which received an unusual nickname. The action took place in the 19th century, in the city of Orel.
"Non-lethal golovan": a summary of the chapters
The story is not just about a man, but about a righteous man who saved lives and helped dying people.
Chapter One: A Special Person
The story of Golovan can be considered a legend. The nickname "non-lethal" was not given to him as a mockery or just a meaningless set of letters. So people began to call him, highlighting him, considering him special, a person who is not afraid of death. In the end, he did die, but again - saving someone's life. The following chapters describe the fate of this amazing man.
Chapter Two: Description of the "non-lethal"
The author describes Golovan. First there is a description of one case when he saved a child from an angry chain dog, which broke loose in a leash. Then follows detailed description Golovan. In short - he had large features, 15 inches tall, muscular, broad in the shoulders. Golovan's face was round, with a large nose and trimmed beard.
It is noted that a smile often played on his lips, his eyes were kind, and his gaze was a little mocking. Golovan walked quickly and, as it were, with a jump, it seemed that he was jumping with his left foot. He always wore (regardless of the weather) a simple shirt and a long sheepskin coat. It was already blackened and oily from long use. Belted with a simple belt. Golovan never fastened the collar of his sheepskin coat; it was open to the waist.
Chapter Three: Golovan's entourage, occupation
Describes the life of the protagonist, his work, family. In short, he lived in Orel, on 3rd Dvoryanskaya Street. The following is a detailed description of the area. Golovan had several cows and a bull of the Yermolov breed. A small herd brought income in the form of milk, cream, butter. And all this is of the highest quality. Golovan worked tirelessly - from morning to night. He told sacred stories well. Many people went to Golovan for advice.
He lived on the outskirts, in a large house, which could rather be called a barn. The following is a detailed description of the main character's home. 5 women lived with him - his mother, three sisters and Pavel. There is a detailed description of her appearance and character. In particular, her meekness, tenderness and kindness are noted.
Chapter Four: Golovan's family and love
In the Golovan family, only he was redeemed, the rest remained serfs, including his beloved Pavel. He wanted to free them, but this required money and a lot of it. Therefore, Golovan established his dairy farm. It quickly began to gain momentum. Over time, Golovan was able to start ransoming the family and freed the women in 6-7 years, but Pavel did not have time - she left with her husband. After some time, she returned to Orel, and since she had nowhere to live, she came to Golovan.
His sisters were already aged and therefore they were engaged only in housekeeping, spun and made unusual fabrics. This chapter details Golovan's relationship with his beloved Pavel.
Chapter Five: Epidemic
It is told how main character got his nickname. They began to call him that in the first year he settled in the village. Blame was an anthrax or plague epidemic. This difficult time for people is described in detail. The disease was highly contagious and was transmitted even to people who simply served food or drink to the sick.
It was at this terrible time that Golovan came to the rescue. He fearlessly entered the infected dwellings, gave water to the sick and brought fresh milk. He made a cross with chalk when there were no more living people in the shack.
At the same time, the disease did not take Golovan, he never became infected. Therefore, he received the nickname "non-lethal".
Golovan gained universal respect, became famous person not only in their own district, but also in the surrounding areas. In addition, he allegedly took a “healing stone” from a deceased pharmacist, with the help of which, as people said, he was able to cope with the epidemic.
Chapter Six: How Golovan Stopped the Ulcer Epidemic
It tells about a villager - a guy Panka, a shepherd. At that time, a miracle worker was expected in Orel. Once Panka saw a man walking on water, leaning only on a staff. When he disappeared from sight, he plucked up courage and went to the water, and there he saw Golovan. It turned out that the man did not walk on water, but simply swam across the river, standing on a makeshift gate.
Panka swam to the other side and hid, fearing that Golovan would discover him. He noticed it anyway. Then the scythe cut off a large piece of meat from his leg and threw it into the river. When people carried Golovan into the house, he ordered to put a bucket of water on him and give him a ladle, but no one else should go into the hut.
So he wanted to heal the ulcer, taking the disease upon himself and suffering immediately for everyone. People believed that he would survive - and it really happened. The epidemic is finally over. People made him a legendary magician who can cope with any disease.
Chapter Seven: Reflections on Golovan's Faith
Golovan believed in God, but this did not prevent him from simultaneously being interested in various sciences, including astronomy. At that time, it was not yet called that. People saw a lot of witchcraft.
Therefore, Anton was avoided by many, and Golovan was friends with him, and they often looked at the sky through a special pipe. For this, people could not understand what faith he belongs to. Golovan himself always answered that he believes in one God - the creator-father.
Chapter Eight: The Great Sacred Procession to the Relics
Many people went from Orel to the great celebration (sacred procession). Some - for the sake of trade, others - to kiss the holy relics, etc. Among the people were a merchant with his wife and a sick daughter with melancholy, who was unsuccessfully treated for a long time. different ways. They traveled in the hope that a new cure would be found. One merchant promised to put them at the very beginning of the procession, for which he asked for a fee. The pious family had to agree.
Chapter Nine: Miraculous Healing, Photeus
The place where the poor people stopped is described in detail. The merchant with his wife and daughter were forced to declare the “mute and sick” fraudster Fotey as their relative. Then he was carried to the holy relics for healing.
They brought him into the temple, and he came out of it on his own feet. After that, Fotei and his “relatives” left for Orel. However, the merchant decided to “lose” his newly-made relatives along the way. Nevertheless, Fotey was delivered to Orel by other compassionate people.
Chapter Ten: Persecution of Golovan by Fotei
There he meets Golovan. He immediately saw his true nature, but when he wanted to bring Fotey to "clean water", he did not let him say anything, slapping him in the face. Golovan endured this, did not respond in kind. For humans, this behavior has remained a true mystery. They decided that Golovan was afraid of the miraculously healed.
People were also surprised by the impudence with which Fotei later treated the milkman. He demanded money from him, if he thought that there were not enough of them - he could throw coins into the dirt, throw stones at a friend. With all this, Golovan meekly endured, paid Fotey on demand and was silent. This aroused people's curiosity and strengthened their confidence that something was connecting the healed and the magician milkman.
Chapter Eleven: The Death of Golovan
After some time, there was a big fire in Orel. Golovan also died in it. According to the stories of people, saving people, he fell into a deep hole, in which he “cooked”. Even many years later, Golovan was not forgotten. Some began to call him a legend, others argue that everything said about him was in fact.
Chapter Twelve: The Truth About the "Non-Death"
During his lifetime, Golovan made friends with a woman of steadfast faith - Akilina (Alexandra Vasilievna). She was very smart, though illiterate. Often communicated upon arrival in Orel with the cathedral father Peter.
Akilina told one of her relatives that Golovan had no magic stone. People came up with this, but the milkman simply did not argue. When he cut off a piece of meat from his leg, he removed the plague pimple, but then he really miraculously recovered.
There were many rumors among people about the intimate relationship between Pavla and Golovan, but the same Akilina dispelled them. It turns out that the milkman remained a virgin until his death. Golovan's love with Pavel was platonic, "angelic". It turns out that her husband was precisely the fraudster Fotei, who had escaped from military service.
Because of his love for Pavel, Golovan endured all the insults and could not marry his beloved. Although legally the soldier Fraposhka, who was hiding under the name of Fotey, did not exist, the lovers were not allowed to marry according to the law of conscience. There is happiness righteous and sinful. In the first case, it will never cross over people, in the second - on the contrary. Pavla and Golovan chose the first, righteous option.
Thus ends the story of Golovan, a “non-lethal” person who has always helped people even in the most difficult times. He was a righteous man and even his love became "angelic".
"Non-lethal Golovan" summary of the work
Current page: 1 (total book has 4 pages)
Nikolay Semyonovich Leskov
NON-LETHAL GOLOVAN
From the stories of the three righteous
Perfect love casts out fear.
John
1
He himself is almost a myth, and his story is a legend. To tell about it, you have to be French, because some people of this nation manage to explain to others what they themselves do not understand. I say all this with the aim of asking my reader in advance for indulgence for the comprehensive imperfection of my story about a person, the reproduction of which would cost the labors of a much better master than myself. But Golovan may soon be completely forgotten, and that would be a loss. Golovan is worth attention, and although I do not know him well enough to draw a complete image of him, however, I will select and present some features of this low-ranking mortal man who managed to pass for "non-lethal".
The nickname “non-lethal” given to Golovan did not express ridicule and was by no means an empty, meaningless sound - he was called non-lethal due to the strong conviction that Golovan was a special person; a person who is not afraid of death. How could there be such an opinion about him among people who walk under God and always remember their mortality? Was there a sufficient reason for this, which developed in a consistent convention, or did simplicity, which is akin to stupidity, give him such a nickname?
It seemed to me that the latter was more likely, but how others judged it - I don’t know this, because I didn’t think about it in my childhood, and when I grew up and could understand things - the “non-lethal” Golovan was no longer in the world. He died, and not in the most neat way: he died during the so-called "big fire" in Orel, drowning in a boiling pit, where he fell, saving someone's life or someone's property. However, “a large part of it, having escaped from decay, continued to live in a grateful memory” 1
Inaccurate quote from Derzhavin's poem "Monument".
And I want to try to put down on paper what I knew and heard about him, so that in this way his noteworthy memory will continue in the world.
2
The non-lethal Golovan was a simple man. His face, with its extremely large features, was engraved in my memory from early days and remained in it forever. I met him at an age when, they say, children are not yet able to receive lasting impressions and wear out memories from them for life, but, however, it happened to me differently. This incident was noted by my grandmother as follows:
“Yesterday (May 26, 1835) I came from Gorokhov to Masha (my mother), Semyon Dmitritch (my father) did not find him at home, on a business trip to Yelets to investigate a terrible murder. In the whole house there were only us, women and girlish servants. The coachman left with him (my father), only the janitor Kondrat remained, and at night the watchman came to the front room to spend the night from the board (provincial board, where my father was an adviser). Today, at twelve o'clock Mashenka went into the garden to look at the flowers and water the canufer, and took Nikolushka (me) with her in the arms of Anna (today a living old woman). And when they were walking back to breakfast, Anna had barely begun to unlock the gate, when the chained Ryabka fell off them, right with the chain, and rushed straight at Anna's breasts, but at that very moment, Ryabka, leaning on his paws, threw himself on Anna's chest, Golovan grabbed him by the collar, squeezed him and threw him into the cellar. There he was shot with a gun, and the child was saved.
The child was me, and no matter how accurate the evidence may be that a child of one and a half years old cannot remember what happened to him, I, however, remember this incident.
Of course, I don’t remember where the enraged Ryabka came from and where Golovan went to her after she began to wheeze, floundering with her paws and wriggling her whole body in his highly raised iron hand; but I remember the moment... just a moment. It was like a flash of lightning in the middle of a dark night, when for some reason you suddenly see an extraordinary multitude of objects at once: the curtain of a bed, a screen, a window, a canary shuddering on a perch, and a glass with a silver spoon, on the handle of which magnesia has settled in specks. This is probably the property of fear, which has large eyes. In one such moment, as I now see in front of me a huge dog's muzzle in small spots - dry hair, completely red eyes and a gaping mouth full of muddy foam in a bluish, as if pomaded throat ... a grin that was about to snap into place, but suddenly the upper lip above it twisted, the incision stretched to the ears, and from below convulsively moved, like a bare human elbow, a protruding neck. Above all this stood a huge human figure with a huge head, and she took and carried mad dog. All this time the face of a man smiled.
The described figure was Golovan. I am afraid that I will not be able to draw his portrait at all, precisely because I see him very well and clearly.
It contained, as in Peter the Great, fifteen vershoks; the build was broad, lean and muscular; he was swarthy, round-faced, with blue eyes, a very large nose, and thick lips. The hair on Golovan's head and trimmed beard was very thick, the color of salt and pepper. The head was always cut short, the beard and mustache were also cut. A calm and happy smile did not leave Golovan's face for a moment: it shone in every line, but mainly played on the lips and in the eyes, intelligent and kind, but as if a little mocking. Golovan seemed to have no other expression, at least I don’t remember otherwise. In addition to this unskilful portrait of Golovan, it is necessary to mention one oddity or peculiarity, which consisted in his gait. Golovan walked very quickly, always seeming to hurry somewhere, but not evenly, but with a jump. He did not limp, but, according to the local expression, “shkandybal”, that is, he stepped on one, on the right, foot with a firm step, and bounced on the left. It seemed that this leg did not bend, but springed somewhere in a muscle or in a joint. This is how people walk on an artificial leg, but Golovan did not have an artificial one; although, however, this feature also did not depend on nature, but he himself arranged it for himself, and this was a mystery that cannot be explained immediately.
Golovan dressed like a peasant - always, in summer and winter, in scorching heat and in forty-degree frosts, he wore a long, naked sheepskin coat, all oiled and blackened. I never saw him in other clothes, and my father, I remember, often joked about this sheepskin coat, calling it "eternal."
On the sheepskin coat, Golovan girded himself with a “checkman” strap with a white harness set, which turned yellow in many places, and in others it completely crumbled and left tangles and holes outside. But the sheepskin coat was kept tidy from all sorts of small tenants - I knew this better than others, because I often sat in Golovan's bosom, listening to his speeches, and always felt very calm here.
The wide collar of the sheepskin coat was never fastened, but, on the contrary, was wide open to the very waist. There was a “subsoil” here, which was a very spacious room for bottles of cream, which Golovan supplied to the kitchen of the Oryol noble assembly. This has been his business ever since he "went free" and got a "Yermolov cow" for a living.
The mighty chest of the “non-lethal” was covered by one linen shirt of Little Russian cut, that is, with a straight collar, always clean as boiled and always with a long colored tie. This tie was sometimes a ribbon, sometimes just a piece of woolen cloth or even chintz, but it gave Golovan's appearance something fresh and gentlemanly, which suited him very well, because he really was a gentleman.
3
Golovan and I were neighbors. Our house in Orel was on Third Dvoryanskaya Street and stood third in line from the bank cliff above the Orlik River. The place here is quite beautiful. Then, before the fires, it was the edge of a real city. To the right, behind Orlik, were the small huts of the settlement, which adjoined the root part, ending in the church of St. Basil the Great. To one side there was a very steep and uncomfortable descent along the cliff, and behind, behind the gardens, there was a deep ravine and beyond it a steppe pasture, on which some kind of store stuck out. Here in the mornings there was a soldier's drill and a stick fight - the most early paintings which I have seen and observed more often than anything else. On the same pasture, or rather, on a narrow strip separating our gardens with fences from the ravine, six or seven Golovan's cows and a red bull of the "Yermolov" breed were grazing. The Golovan kept the bull for his small but beautiful herd, and also bred him in the occasion "for keeping" in the houses where they had an economic need. It brought him income.
Golovan's livelihood consisted of his milking cows and their healthy mate. Golovan, as I said above, supplied cream and milk to the noble club, which were famous for their high merits, which, of course, depended on the good breed of his cattle and on good care for him. The butter supplied by Golovan was fresh, yellow as yolk, and fragrant, and the cream "did not flow," that is, if the bottle was turned upside down, the cream did not flow from it, but fell like a thick, heavy mass. Golovan did not put products of the lowest dignity, and therefore he had no rivals for himself, and the nobles then not only knew how to eat well, but also had something to pay with. In addition, Golovan also supplied the club with excellently large eggs from especially large Dutch hens, which he kept in abundance, and, finally, “cooked calves”, soldering them masterfully and always on time, for example, for the largest congress of nobles or for other special occasions in noble circle.
In these views, which determine Golovan's means of life, it was very convenient for him to keep to the noble streets, where he fed interesting persons whom the Orlovites once recognized in Panshin, in Lavretsky and in other heroes and heroines of the "Noble Nest".
Golovan lived, however, not in the street itself, but “on the fly”. The building, which was called the Golovanov House, was not in the order of the houses, but on a small terrace of a cliff under the left side of the street. The area of this terrace was six sazhens in length and the same in width. It was a block of earth that once went down, but stopped on the road, got stronger and, not representing a solid support for anyone, was hardly anyone's property. Then it was still possible.
Golovanov's building in the proper sense could not be called either a yard or a house. It was a large, low barn that occupied the entire space of the fallen block. Perhaps this shapeless building was erected here much earlier than the boulder decided to descend, and then it formed part of the nearest courtyard, the owner of which did not chase him and gave it to Golovan for such a cheap price as the hero could offer him. I even remember that it was said that this barn was presented to Golovan for some kind of service, which he was a great hunter and master.
The barn was redistributed in two: one half, plastered with clay and whitewashed, with three windows to Orlik, was the living quarters of Golovan and the five women who were with him, and the other had stalls for cows and a bull. In the low attic lived Dutch chickens and a black "Spanish" rooster, which lived for a very long time and was considered a "witch bird". In it, Golovan raised a rooster stone, which is suitable for many cases: to bring happiness, to return the state taken from enemy hands, and to remake old people into young ones. This stone matures for seven years and matures only when the cock stops singing.
The barn was so large that both sections - living and cattle - were very spacious, but, despite all the care they took, they did not keep heat well. However, warmth was needed only for women, and Golovan himself was insensitive to atmospheric changes and slept in the summer and winter on willow wicker in a stall, next to his favorite - the red Tyrolean bull "Vaska". The cold did not take him, and this was one of the features of this mythical face, through which he received his fabulous reputation.
Of the five women who lived with Golovan, three were his sisters, one was his mother, and the fifth was called Pavla, or, sometimes, Pavlageyushka. But more often it was called "Golovanov's sin." So I got used to hearing from childhood, when I did not even understand the meaning of this hint. For me, this Pavla was just a very affectionate woman, and I still remember her tall stature, pale face with bright scarlet spots on her cheeks and amazing blackness and regularity of eyebrows.
Such black eyebrows in regular semicircles can only be seen in paintings depicting a Persian woman resting on the lap of an elderly Turk. Our girls, however, knew and told me very early the secret of these eyebrows: the fact was that Golovan was a greengrocer and, loving Pavla so that no one would recognize her, he anointed her eyebrows with bear fat, sleepy. After that, there was, of course, nothing surprising in Pavla's eyebrows, and she became attached to Golovan not by her own strength.
Our girls knew all this.
Pavla herself was an extremely meek woman and "everyone was silent." She was so silent that I never heard from her more than one, and then the most necessary word: "hello", "sit down", "farewell". But in each of these short words, an abyss of greeting, goodwill and affection was heard. The same was expressed by the sound of her quiet voice, the look of her gray eyes and every movement. I also remember that she had amazingly beautiful hands, which is a great rarity in the working class, and she was such a hard worker that she was distinguished by her activity even in the industrious Golovan family.
They all had a lot to do: the “non-lethal” himself was in full swing from morning until late at night. He was a shepherd, and a supplier, and a cheese maker. With the dawn, he drove his herd behind our fences into the dew and kept moving his stately cows from cliff to cliff, choosing for them where the grass was thicker. At the time when they got up in our house. Golovan was already with empty bottles, which he took away at the club instead of the new ones that he brought there today; with his own hands he cut jugs of new milk into the ice of our glacier and talked about something with my father, and when I, having learned to read and write, went for a walk in the garden, he was again sitting under our fence and supervising his cows. There was a small gate in the fence through which I could go to Golovan and talk to him. He was so good at telling one hundred and four sacred stories that I knew them from him, never learning them from a book. Some ordinary people used to come to him here - always for advice. Another, it happened, as he comes, he begins:
- I was looking for you, Golovanych, consult with me.
- What's happened?
- But this and that; something has gone wrong in the household or family troubles.
More often they came with questions of this second category. Golovanych listens, and the willow tree itself weaves or calls to the cows and keeps smiling, as if without attention, and then throws up its blue eyes at the interlocutor and answers:
- I, brother, a bad adviser! Call on God for advice.
- How do you invite him?
– Oh, brother, it’s very simple: pray and do it as if you need to die right now. Tell me, how would you do it this time?
He will think and answer.
Golovan will either agree or say:
- And I would, brother, dying, that's the best way to do it.
And he tells, as usual, everything is cheerful, with a constant smile.
His advice must have been very good, because they always listened to them and thanked him very much for them.
Could such a person have a “sin” in the face of the meekest Pavlageyushka, who at that time, I think, was in her early thirties, beyond which she did not go further? I did not understand this “sin” and remained clear of offending her and Golovan with rather general suspicions. But there was a reason for suspicion, and a very strong reason, even, judging by appearances, irrefutable. Who was she to Golovan? Alien. This is not enough: he once knew her, he was the same masters with her, he wanted to marry her, but this did not take place: Golovan was given in the service of the hero of the Caucasus Alexei Petrovich Yermolov, and at that time Pavel was married to the horseman Ferapont, according to local pronunciation "Kept". Golovan was a necessary and useful servant, because he knew how to do everything - he was not only a good cook and confectioner, but also a quick-witted and brisk marching servant. Aleksei Petrovich paid for Golovan what was due to his landowner, and besides, they say that he lent money to Golovan himself for the ransom. I don’t know if this is true, but Golovan did redeem himself soon after his return from Yermolov and always called Alexei Petrovich his “benefactor.” Alexey Petrovich, on Golovan's release, gave him a good cow with a calf for his household, from which the “Yermolovsky plant” went from him.
4
When exactly Golovan settled in a barn on a landslide - I don’t know at all, but it coincided with the first days of his “free humanity” - when he had to take great care of his relatives who remained in slavery. Golovan was redeemed by himself alone, and his mother, his three sisters and my aunt, who later became my nanny, remained "in the fortress." Pavel, or Pavlageyushka, dearly loved by them, was in the same position. Golovan made it his first concern to redeem them all, and for this he needed money. According to his skill, he could have become a cook or a confectioner, but he preferred another, namely a dairy farm, which he started with the help of the “Yermolov cow”. It was believed that he chose this because he himself was Molokan2
Molokans- a religious sect in Russia that adhered to ascetic rules of life and did not recognize the rites of the official church.
Perhaps it simply meant that he kept fiddling with milk, but it may be that the name was aimed directly at his faith, in which he seemed strange, as in many other actions. It is very possible that he knew the Molokans in the Caucasus and borrowed something from them. But this applies to his oddities, which will come down below.
Dairy farming went well: three years later Golovan already had two cows and a bull, then three, four, and he made so much money that he bought his mother, then every year he bought his sister, and he took them all and brought them to his spacious, but cool shack. So, at the age of six or seven, he freed the whole family, but the beautiful Pavel flew away from him. By the time he could redeem her, she was already far away. Her husband, the horseman Khrapon, was bad person- he did not please the master with something and, for example, was given to recruits without offset.
In the service, Khrapon got into the "races", that is, the mounted fire brigade to Moscow, and demanded his wife there; but soon he did something bad there too and fled, and his wife, who had been abandoned by him, having a quiet and timid disposition, was afraid of the tricks metropolitan life and returned to Orel. Here, too, she did not find any support in the old place and, driven by need, she came to Golovan. He, of course, immediately accepted her and placed her in the same spacious room where his sisters and mother lived. How Golovan's mother and sisters looked at the placement of Pavla, I do not know for sure, but her placement in their house did not sow any dissension. All the women lived very friendly among themselves and even loved poor Pavlageyushka very much, and Golovan showed equal attention to all of them, and showed special respect only to his mother, who was already so old that in the summer he carried her in his arms and planted her in the sun like a sick child . I remember how she "went down" with a terrible cough and kept praying "to clean up."
All Golovan's sisters were elderly girls and they all helped their brother in the household: they cleaned and milked the cows, went after the chickens and spun unusual yarn, from which they then wove unusual fabrics that I had never seen after that. This yarn was called a very ugly word "spitting". The material for it was brought from somewhere in bags by Golovan, and I saw and remember this material: it consisted of small knotted scraps of multi-colored paper threads. Each piece was from an inch to a quarter of an arshin in length, and on each such piece there was certainly a more or less thick knot or knot. Where Golovan got these scraps from - I do not know, but it is obvious that it was factory garbage. That's what his sisters told me.
- This, - they said, - is a nice little one, where paper is spun and woven, so - how will they reach such a bundle, tear it off and on the floor and spit- because he doesn’t go to the byrd, but his brother collects them, and we make warm blankets out of them.
I saw how they patiently dismantled all these scraps of thread, connected them piece by piece, wound the motley, multi-colored thread thus formed on long spools; then they were squandered, rolled even thicker, stretched on pegs along the wall, sorted out something of the same color for the kai, and, finally, “spit blankets” were woven from these “spit” through a special reed. These blankets looked similar to the current flannelette ones: each of them also had two borders, but the canvas itself was always marbled. The knots in them were somehow smoothed out by piling up and although they were, of course, very noticeable, they did not prevent these blankets from being light, warm and even sometimes quite beautiful. Moreover, they were sold very cheaply - less than a ruble apiece.
This handicraft industry in the Golovan family went on without a stop, and he probably found a market for spittle blankets without difficulty.
Pavlageyushka also knitted and wove spit and wove blankets, but besides, out of zeal for the family that sheltered her, she still carried all the hardest work in the house: she went down the slope to Orlik for water, carried fuel, and so on and so forth.
Even then, firewood was very expensive in Orel, and poor people were heated either with buckwheat husks or with manure, and the latter required a lot of preparation.
All this Pavla did with her thin hands, in eternal silence, looking at the light of God from under her Persian eyebrows. Did she know that her name was "sin" - I do not know, but such was her name among the people, who firmly stand for the nicknames he invented. And how could it be otherwise: where a loving woman lives in the house of a man who loved her and was looking to marry her, there, of course, is a sin. And indeed, at the time when I saw Pavla as a child, she was unanimously revered as "Golovan's sin", but Golovan himself did not lose the slightest bit of general respect through this and retained the nickname "non-deadly."
June 12, 2015About artists, writers, scientists, when they want to show their isolation from ordinary citizens, they say: "They are terribly far from the people." This phrase is completely inappropriate for characterizing the work of N. S. Leskov. The Russian classic, on the contrary, is extremely close to ordinary citizens of his time - peasants (ordinary men and women).
It reproduces very accurately and in detail. inner world of his characters, which speaks not only of the outstanding talent of the writer, but also of a fantastic psychological instinct and intellectual intuition. What you can be sure of, even after reading this or that work, only a brief summary. "Non-lethal Golovan" is a brilliantly written story.
Appearance of the main character
The time of action described in the story is the middle of the 19th century, the place of action is the city of Orel.
Warehouse Golovan was a heroic one: he was over 2 meters tall. Big hands, big head (hence, probably, the nickname). There was not a drop of fat in him, he was muscular and at the same time broad. Most of all, blue eyes stood out in his face, they were framed by large features and a large nose. Golovan was a brunette. His beard and hair on his head were always neatly trimmed.
Profession and entourage of Golovan
Golovan had one bull and several cows. He lived by selling milk, cheese and cream to gentlemen. He himself was a peasant, but not a serf, but a free one.
His affairs were going so well that after he became free, Golovan freed his three sisters and mother from the yoke of slavery, and also settled Pavel in his house - a girl who was not related to him, nevertheless she lived with those closest to her. hero women under one roof. Evil tongues said that Pavel is "Golovan's sin."
How did Golovan become "non-lethal"?
An epidemic raged in Orel, it was terrible: livestock died, then, infected from cattle, people died. And nothing could be done, only one yard and some animals were not touched by a terrible illness: the yard of Golovan and his bull and cows. In addition, the protagonist of the tale earned the respect of the locals by going to the homes of the dying and giving them milk to drink. Milk did not help with the disease, but at least people did not die alone, abandoned by everyone. And the daredevil himself did not get sick. This is how the hero's exploits look in brief, if the reader is only interested in their summary. "Non-lethal Golovan" is a story about an extraordinary person.
The creation of the myth about the "non-lethal" Golovan was also influenced by what the shepherd's disciple Panka saw one morning. He drove the cattle to fast closer to the Orlik River, and the time was early, Panka fell asleep. Then he suddenly woke up and saw that a man from the opposite bank was walking on water as if on land. The shepherd boy marveled, and that man was Golovan. But it turned out that he did not walk on the water with his feet, but rode on the gates, leaning on a long pole.
When Golovan crossed to the other side, Panka wanted to ride the gates himself to the other side and look at the house of the famous local resident. The shepherd had just reached the desired point, when Golovan shouted that the one who took away his gate should return them. Panka was cowardly and, out of fear, found a hiding place for himself and lay down there.
Golovan thought and thought, there was nothing to do, undressed, tied all his clothes in a knot, placed them on his head and swam home. The river was not very deep, but the water in it had not warmed up yet. When Golovan got out on the shore, he was about to start getting dressed, when he suddenly noticed something under the knee on the calf. Meanwhile, a young mower came out to the bank of the river. Golovan called out to him, asked him to give him a scythe, and he sent the boy himself to pick burdocks for him. When the mower was tearing burdocks, Golovan cut off his caviar on his leg in one fell swoop and threw a piece of his body into the river. Believe it or not, the epidemic ended after that. And of course, there was a rumor that Golovan did not just cripple himself, but with a lofty goal: he made a sacrifice to the disease.
Of course, N. S. Leskov wrote his story with great brilliance. "Non-lethal Golovan", however, is a work that is better to read in the original source, and not in a summary.
Golovan is an agnostic
After that, Golovan became a healer and sage. They went to him for advice if there were any difficulties in the household or in family affairs. Golovan refused no one and gave reassuring answers to everyone. It is not known whether they helped or not, but people left him with the hope of a speedy resolution of their problems. At the same time, no one could say for sure whether Golovan believes in the Christian God, whether he observes the canon.
When asked what church he belongs to, Golovan replied: "I am from the parish of the creator-almighty." Of course, there was no such church in the city. But at the same time, the hero of the tale behaved in the same way as a true Christian: he did not refuse help to anyone and even made friends with a lover of the stars, whom everyone in the city considered a fool. These are the virtues of Golovan, their summary. "Non-lethal Golovan" is a story about the bright ideal of a righteous man who is not burdened by any specific belonging to a religious denomination.
Solving the mystery of Golovan
The author of the story (N. S. Leskov), after retelling folk legends, in order not to torment the reader and find out the truth on his own, turns for truthful information to the person who personally knew the non-lethal Golovan - to his grandmother. And she answers him all the questions that he set out in the work “Non-deadly Golovan”. The story ends with a conversation between grandmother and grandson.
- Pavla was not Golovan's mistress, they lived with him in a spiritual, "angelic" marriage.
- And he chopped off his leg, because he noticed the first signs of the disease on the calf and, knowing that there was no escape from it, he solved the problem radically.
Of course, if you read such a brilliant story as "The Non-Deadly Golovan", summary, then a lot of things can be missed, for example, the details of history or the magic and charm of Leskov's unique language. Therefore, all readers of this article need to familiarize themselves with the work in full in order to feel the rhythm, "taste" and "color" of Leskov's prose. This was the summary. "Non-lethal Golovan" - a story by N. S. Leskov, arousing interest in other works of the author.
Nikolay Leskov
(From the stories of the three righteous)
Perfect love casts out fear.
John.
Chapter first
He himself is almost a myth, and his story is a legend. To tell about it, you have to be French, because some people of this nation manage to explain to others what they themselves do not understand. I say all this with the aim of asking my reader in advance for indulgence for the comprehensive imperfection of my story about a person, the reproduction of which would cost the labors of a much better master than myself. But Golovan may soon be completely forgotten, and that would be a loss. Golovan is worth attention, and although I do not know him well enough to draw a complete image of him, however, I will select and present some features of this low-ranking mortal man who managed to pass for "non-lethal".
The nickname “non-lethal” given to Golovan did not express ridicule and was by no means an empty, meaningless sound - he was called non-lethal due to the strong conviction that Golovan was a special person; a person who is not afraid of death. How could there be such an opinion about him among people who walk under God and always remember their mortality? Was there a sufficient reason for this, which developed in a consistent convention, or did simplicity, which is akin to stupidity, give him such a nickname?
It seemed to me that the latter was more likely, but how others judged it - I don’t know this, because I didn’t think about it in my childhood, and when I grew up and could understand things - the “non-lethal” Golovan was no longer in the world. He died, and not in the neatest way: he died during the so-called "big fire" in the city of Orel, drowning in a boiling pit, where he fell, saving someone's life or someone's property. However, “a large part of him, having escaped from decay, continued to live in a grateful memory,” and I want to try to put down on paper what I knew and heard about him, so that in this way his noteworthy memory would continue in the world.
Chapter Two
The non-lethal Golovan was a simple man. His face, with its extremely large features, was engraved in my memory from early days and remained in it forever. I met him at an age when, they say, children are not yet able to receive lasting impressions and wear out memories from them for life, but, however, it happened to me differently. This incident was noted by my grandmother as follows:
“Yesterday (May 26, 1835) I came from Gorokhov to Masha (my mother), Semyon Dmitritch (my father) did not find him at home, on a business trip to Yelets to investigate a terrible murder. In the whole house there were only us, women and girlish servants. The coachman left with him (my father), only the janitor Kondrat remained, and at night the watchman came to the front room to spend the night from the board (provincial board, where my father was an adviser). Today, at twelve o'clock, Mashenka went into the garden to look at the flowers and water the canufer, and took Nikolushka (me) with her in the arms of Anna (the old woman who is still living). And when they were walking back to breakfast, Anna had barely begun to unlock the gate, when the chained Ryabka fell off them, right with the chain, and rushed straight at Anna's breasts, but at that very moment, Ryabka, leaning on his paws, threw himself on Anna's chest, Golovan grabbed him by the collar, squeezed him and threw him into the cellar. There he was shot with a gun, and the child was saved.
The child was me, and no matter how accurate the evidence may be that a child of one and a half years old cannot remember what happened to him, I, however, remember this incident.
Of course, I don’t remember where the enraged Ryabka came from and where Golovan went to her after she began to wheeze, floundering with her paws and wriggling her whole body in his highly raised iron hand; but I remember the moment... just a moment. It was like a flash of lightning in the middle of a dark night, when for some reason you suddenly see an extraordinary multitude of objects at once: the curtain of a bed, a screen, a window, a canary shuddering on a perch, and a glass with a silver spoon, on the handle of which magnesia has settled in specks. This is probably the property of fear, which has large eyes. In one such moment, as I now see in front of me a huge dog's muzzle in small spots - dry hair, completely red eyes and a gaping mouth full of muddy foam in a bluish, as if pomaded throat ... a grin that was about to snap into place, but suddenly the upper lip above it twisted, the incision stretched to the ears, and from below convulsively moved, like a bare human elbow, a protruding neck. Above all this stood a huge human figure with a huge head, and she took and carried a mad dog. All this time the face of a man smiled.
The described figure was Golovan. I am afraid that I will not be able to draw his portrait at all, precisely because I see him very well and clearly.
It contained, as in Peter the Great, fifteen vershoks; the build was broad, lean and muscular; he was swarthy, round-faced, with blue eyes, a very large nose, and thick lips. The hair on Golovan's head and trimmed beard was very thick, the color of salt and pepper. The head was always cut short, the beard and mustache were also cut. A calm and happy smile did not leave Golovan's face for a moment: it shone in every line, but mainly played on the lips and in the eyes, intelligent and kind, but as if a little mocking. Golovan seemed to have no other expression, at least I don’t remember otherwise. In addition to this unskilful portrait of Golovan, it is necessary to mention one oddity or peculiarity, which was in his gait. Golovan walked very quickly, always seeming to hurry somewhere, but not evenly, but with a jump. He did not limp, but, according to the local expression, "shkandybal", that is, he stepped on one, on the right foot with a firm step, and jumped on the left. It seemed that this leg did not bend, but springed somewhere in a muscle or in a joint. This is how people walk on an artificial leg, but Golovan did not have an artificial one; although, however, this feature also did not depend on nature, but he himself arranged it for himself, and this was a mystery that cannot be explained immediately.
Golovan dressed like a peasant - always, in summer and winter, in scorching heat and in forty-degree frosts, he wore a long, naked sheepskin coat, all oiled and blackened. I never saw him in other clothes, and my father, I remember, often joked about this sheepskin coat, calling it "eternal."
On the sheepskin coat, Golovan girded himself with a “checkman” strap with a white harness set, which turned yellow in many places, and in others it completely crumbled and left tangles and holes outside. But the sheepskin coat was kept tidy from all sorts of small tenants - I knew this better than others, because I often sat in Golovan's bosom, listening to his speeches, and always felt very calm here.
The wide collar of the sheepskin coat was never fastened, but, on the contrary, was wide open to the very waist. There was a “subsoil” here, which was a very spacious room for bottles of cream, which Golovan supplied to the kitchen of the Oryol noble assembly. This has been his business ever since he "went free" and got a "Yermolov cow" for a living.
The mighty chest of the “non-lethal” was covered by one linen shirt of Little Russian cut, that is, with a straight collar, always clean as boiled and always with a long colored tie. This tie was sometimes a ribbon, sometimes just a piece of woolen cloth or even chintz, but it gave Golovan's appearance something fresh and gentlemanly, which suited him very well, because he really was a gentleman.
Chapter Three
Golovan and I were neighbors. Our house in Orel was on Third Dvoryanskaya Street and stood third in line from the bank cliff above the Orlik River. The place here is quite beautiful. Then, before the fires, it was the edge of a real city. To the right, behind Orlik, were the small huts of the settlement, which adjoined the root part, ending in the church of St. Basil the Great. To one side there was a very steep and uncomfortable descent along the cliff, and behind, behind the gardens, there was a deep ravine and beyond it a steppe pasture, on which some kind of store stuck out. Here in the mornings there was a soldier's drill and a stick fight - the earliest pictures that I saw, observed more often than anything else. On the same pasture, or rather, on a narrow strip separating our gardens with fences from the ravine, six or seven Golovan's cows and a red bull of the "Yermolov" breed were grazing. The Golovan kept the bull for his small but beautiful herd, and also bred him in the occasion "for keeping" in the houses where they had an economic need. It brought him income.
Golovan's livelihood consisted of his milking cows and their healthy mate. Golovan, as I said above, supplied cream and milk to the noble club, which were famous for their high merits, which, of course, depended on the good breed of his cattle and on good care for him. The butter supplied by Golovan was fresh, yellow as yolk, and fragrant, and the cream "did not flow," that is, if the bottle was turned upside down, the cream did not flow from it, but fell like a thick, heavy mass. Golovan did not put products of the lowest dignity, and therefore he had no rivals for himself, and the nobles then not only knew how to eat well, but also had something to pay with. In addition, Golovan also supplied the club with excellently large eggs from especially large Dutch hens, which he kept in abundance, and, finally, “cooked calves”, soldering them masterfully and always on time, for example, for the largest congress of nobles or for other special occasions in noble circle.
In these views, which determine Golovan's means of life, it was very convenient for him to keep to the noble streets, where he fed interesting persons whom the Orlovites once recognized in Panshin, in Lavretsky and in other heroes and heroines of the "Noble Nest".
Golovan lived, however, not in the street itself, but “on the fly”. The building, which was called the Golovanov House, was not in the order of the houses, but on a small terrace of a cliff under the left side of the street. The area of this terrace was six sazhens in length and the same in width. It was a block of earth that once went down, but stopped on the road, got stronger and, not representing a solid support for anyone, was hardly anyone's property. Then it was still possible.
Golovanov's building in the proper sense could not be called either a yard or a house. It was a large, low barn that occupied the entire space of the fallen block. Perhaps this shapeless building was erected here much earlier than the boulder decided to descend, and then it formed part of the nearest courtyard, the owner of which did not chase him and gave it to Golovan for such a cheap price as the hero could offer him. I even remember that it was said that this barn was presented to Golovan for some kind of service, which he was a great hunter and master.
The barn was redistributed in two: one half, plastered with clay and whitewashed, with three windows to Orlik, was the living quarters of Golovan and the five women who were with him, and the other had stalls for cows and a bull. In the low attic lived Dutch chickens and a black "Spanish" rooster, which lived for a very long time and was considered a "witch bird". In it, Golovan raised a rooster stone, which is suitable for many cases: to bring happiness, to return the state taken from enemy hands, and to remake old people into young ones. This stone matures for seven years and matures only when the cock stops singing.
The barn was so large that both sections - living and cattle - were very spacious, but, despite all the care they took, they did not keep heat well. However, warmth was needed only for women, and Golovan himself was insensitive to atmospheric changes and slept in the summer and winter on willow wicker in a stall, next to his favorite - the red Tyrolean bull "Vaska". The cold did not take him, and this was one of the features of this mythical face, through which he received his fabulous reputation.
Of the five women who lived with Golovan, three were his sisters, one was his mother, and the fifth was called Pavla, or, sometimes, Pavlageyushka. But more often it was called "Golovanov's sin." So I got used to hearing from childhood, when I did not even understand the meaning of this hint. For me, this Pavla was just a very affectionate woman, and I still remember her tall stature, pale face with bright scarlet spots on her cheeks and amazing blackness and regularity of eyebrows.
Such black eyebrows in regular semicircles can only be seen in paintings depicting a Persian woman resting on the lap of an elderly Turk. Our girls, however, knew and told me very early the secret of these eyebrows: the fact was that Golovan was a greengrocer and, loving Pavla so that no one would recognize her, he anointed her eyebrows with bear fat, sleepy. After that, there was, of course, nothing surprising in Pavla's eyebrows, and she became attached to Golovan not by her own strength.
Our girls knew all this.
Pavla herself was an extremely meek woman and "everyone was silent." She was so silent that I never heard from her more than one, and then the most necessary word: "hello", "sit down", "farewell". But in each of these short words, an abyss of greeting, goodwill and affection was heard. The same was expressed by the sound of her quiet voice, the look of her gray eyes and every movement. I also remember that she had amazingly beautiful hands, which is a great rarity in the working class, and she was such a hard worker that she was distinguished by her activity even in the industrious Golovan family.
They all had a lot to do: the “non-lethal” himself was in full swing from morning until late at night. He was a shepherd, and a supplier, and a cheese maker. With the dawn, he drove his herd behind our fences into the dew and kept moving his stately cows from cliff to cliff, choosing for them where the grass was thicker. At the time when they got up in our house, Golovan was already with empty bottles, which he took away at the club instead of the new ones that he brought there today; with his own hands he cut jugs of new milk into the ice of our glacier and talked about something with my father, and when I, having learned to read and write, went for a walk in the garden, he was again sitting under our fence and supervising his cows. There was a small gate in the fence through which I could go to Golovan and talk to him. He was so good at telling one hundred and four sacred stories that I knew them from him, never learning them from a book. Some ordinary people used to come to him here - always for advice. Another, it happened, as he comes, he begins:
- I was looking for you, Golovanych, consult with me.
- What's happened?
- But this and that: something has gone wrong in the household or family troubles.
More often they came with questions of this second category. Golovanych listens, and the willow tree itself weaves or calls to the cows and keeps smiling, as if without attention, and then throws up its blue eyes at the interlocutor and answers:
- I, brother, a bad adviser! Call on God for advice.
- How do you invite him?
– Oh, brother, it’s very simple: pray and do it as if you need to die right now. Tell me, how would you do it this time?
He will think and answer.
Golovan will either agree or say:
- And I would, brother, dying, that's the best way to do it.
And he tells everything cheerfully, as usual, with his usual smile.
His advice must have been very good, because they always listened to them and thanked him very much for them.
Could such a person have a “sin” in the face of the meekest Pavlageyushka, who at that time, I think, was in her early thirties, beyond which she did not go further? I did not understand this "sin" and remained clean to offend her and Golovan with rather general suspicions. But there was a reason for suspicion, and a very strong reason, even judging by appearances, irrefutable. Who was she to Golovan? - someone else's. This is not enough: he once knew her, he was the same masters with her, he wanted to marry her, but this did not take place: Golovan was given in the service of the hero of the Caucasus Alexei Petrovich Yermolov, and at that time Pavel was married to the horseman Ferapont, according to local pronunciation "Khrapona". Golovan was a necessary and useful servant, because he knew how to do everything - he was not only a good cook and confectioner, but also a quick-witted and brisk marching servant. Aleksei Petrovich paid for Golovan what was due to his landowner, and besides, they say that he lent money to Golovan himself for the ransom. I don’t know if this is true, but Golovan did redeem himself soon after his return from Yermolov and always called Alexei Petrovich his “benefactor.” Alexey Petrovich, on Golovan's release, gave him a good cow with a calf for his household, from which the “Yermolovsky plant” went from him.
Chapter Four
When exactly Golovan settled in a barn on a landslide - I don’t know at all, but it coincided with the first days of his “free humanity” - when he had to take great care of his relatives who remained in slavery. Golovan was redeemed by himself alone, and his mother, his three sisters and my aunt, who later became my nanny, remained "in the fortress." Pavel, or Pavlageyushka, dearly loved by them, was in the same position. Golovan made it his first concern to redeem them all, and for this he needed money. According to his skill, he could have become a cook or a confectioner, but he preferred another, namely a dairy farm, which he started with the help of the “Yermolov cow”. It was believed that he chose this because he himself was Molokan. Perhaps it simply meant that he kept fiddling with milk, but it may be that the name was aimed directly at his faith, in which he seemed strange, as in many other actions. It is very possible that he knew the Molokans in the Caucasus and borrowed something from them. But this applies to his oddities, which will come down below.
Dairy farming went well: three years later Golovan already had two cows and a bull, then three, four, and he made so much money that he bought his mother, then every year he bought his sister, and he took them all and brought them to his spacious, but cool shack. So, at the age of six or seven, he freed the whole family, but the beautiful Pavel flew away from him. By the time he could redeem her, she was already far away. Her husband, the rider Khrapon, was a bad man - he did not please the master with something and, for example, was recruited without offset.
In the service, Khrapon got into the "races", that is, the mounted fire brigade to Moscow, and demanded his wife there; but soon he did something bad there and fled, and his wife, who had been abandoned by him, having a quiet and timid disposition, was afraid of the twists and turns of life in the capital and returned to Orel. Here, too, she did not find any support in the old place and, driven by need, she came to Golovan. He, of course, immediately accepted her and placed her in the same spacious room where his sisters and mother lived. How Golovan's mother and sisters looked at the placement of Pavla, I do not know for sure, but her placement in their house did not sow any dissension. All the women lived very friendly among themselves and even loved poor Pavlageyushka very much, and Golovan showed equal attention to all of them, and showed special respect only to his mother, who was already so old that in the summer he carried her in his arms and planted her in the sun like a sick child . I remember how she "went down" with a terrible cough and kept praying "to clean up."
All Golovan's sisters were elderly girls and they all helped their brother in the household: they cleaned and milked the cows, went after the chickens and spun unusual yarn, from which they then wove unusual fabrics that I had never seen after that. This yarn was called a very ugly word "spitting". The material for it was brought from somewhere in bags by Golovan, and I saw and remember this material: it consisted of small knotted scraps of multi-colored paper threads. Each piece was from an inch to a quarter of an arshin in length, and on each such piece there was certainly a more or less thick knot or knot. Where Golovan got these scraps from - I do not know, but it is obvious that it was factory garbage. That's what his sisters told me.
- This, - they said, - is a nice little one, where paper is spun and woven, so - how will they reach such a bundle, tear it off and on the floor and spit- because he doesn’t go to the byrd, but his brother collects them, and we make warm blankets out of them.
I saw how they patiently dismantled all these scraps of thread, connected them piece by piece, wound the motley, multi-colored thread thus formed on long spools; then they were squandered, rolled even thicker, stretched on pegs along the wall, sorted out something of the same color for the kai, and, finally, “spit blankets” were woven from these “spit” through a special reed. These blankets looked similar to the current flannelette ones: each of them also had two borders, but the canvas itself was always marbled. The knots in them were somehow smoothed out by piling up and although they were, of course, very noticeable, they did not prevent these blankets from being light, warm and even sometimes quite beautiful. Moreover, they were sold very cheaply - less than a ruble apiece.
This handicraft industry in the Golovan family went on without a stop, and he probably found a market for spittle blankets without difficulty.
Pavlageyushka also knitted and wove spit and wove blankets, but besides, out of zeal for the family that sheltered her, she still carried all the hardest work in the house: she went down the steep slope to Orlik for water, carried fuel, and so on and so forth.
Even then, firewood was very expensive in Orel, and poor people were heated either with buckwheat husks or with manure, and the latter required a lot of preparation.
All this Pavla did with her thin hands, in eternal silence, looking at the light of God from under her Persian eyebrows. Did she know that her name was "sin" - I do not know, but such was her name among the people, who firmly stand for the nicknames he invented. And how could it be otherwise: where a woman who loves lives in the house of a man who loved her and was looking to marry her, there, of course, is a sin. And indeed, at the time when I saw Pavla as a child, she was unanimously revered as "Golovan's sin", but Golovan himself did not lose the slightest bit of general respect through this and retained the nickname "non-deadly."
Chapter Five
“Non-lethal” began to be called Golovan in the first year, when he settled alone above Orlik with his “Yermolov cow” and her calf. The reason for this was the following completely reliable circumstance, which no one remembered during the recent "Prokofiev's" plague. It was the usual hard times in Orel, and in February on St. Agafya Korovnitsa ran through the villages, as it should, "cow death". It went on, as there is a custom and as it is written in the universal book, which is also said Cool Heliport: “As summer ends, and autumn approaches, then soon the pestilence begins. And at that time, every person needs to place hope in the almighty God and in his most pure mother and by the power of the honest cross be protected and restrain his heart from grief, and from horror, and from heavy thought, for through this the human heart is diminished and soon the porsa and the ulcer clings - the brain and heart will capture, overpower a person and the greyhound will die. All this was also in the usual pictures of our nature, “when thick and dark fogs melt in autumn and the wind from the midday country and the rains and the sun incense the earth, and then you don’t need to go to the wind, but sit in a heated hut and no windows open, but it would be good, so that in that city of lower life and from that city depart to clean places. When, that is, in what particular year, the pestilence followed, glorifying Golovan as “non-fatal,” I don’t know. Such trifles were not then much dealt with and because of them they did not raise a fuss, as happened because of Naum Prokofiev. Local grief ended in its place, pacified by one hope in God and his pure mother, and unless in the case of a strong predominance of an idle “intellectual” in some locality, original healing measures were taken: “in the courtyards they laid out a clear, oak tree fire, so that the smoke dispersed, and in the huts they smoked pelynya and juniper firewood and rue leaves. But all this could only be done by an intellectual, and, moreover, with good prosperity, and the death of a borzo did not take an intellectual, but one who had no time to sit in a hut, and even an open yard to drown an open yard with an oak tree was beyond his strength. Death went hand in hand with hunger and supported each other. The starving begged from the starving, the sick died "borzo", that is, soon, which is more profitable for the peasant. There were no long languishing, and there were no people recovering. Who got sick, that "borzo" and died, except one. What kind of disease it was is not scientifically determined, but it was popularly called “bosom”, or “vered”, or “oilseed pimple”, or even furiously “pimple”. It began with the grain-growing districts, where, in the absence of bread, they ate hemp cake. In Karachev and Bryansk districts, where peasants mixed a handful of wholemeal flour with crushed bark, there was a different disease, also deadly, but not "pimple". "Pupyruh" appeared first on cattle, and then passed on to people. “A man’s sore sits under his sinuses or on his neck, and he smells a prick in his body, and inside there is an unquenchable ardor or a certain coldness and a heavy sigh in the air and cannot sigh - the spirit pulls into itself and packs up; sleep will find that it cannot stop sleeping; bitterness, sourness and vomiting will appear; in the face, a person will change, become the image of clay and the greyhound dies. Maybe it was anthrax, maybe some other ulcer, but only it was destructive and merciless, and the most common name for it, I repeat again, was “pimple”; A pimple will jump up on the body, or in the common folk “pimples”, it will turn yellow, it will blush around, and by the day the meat will begin to rot, and then greyhound and death. An imminent death was presented, however, "in good terms." The death came quiet, not painful, the most peasant, only all those who were dying were thirsty until the last minute. This was the whole short and tireless care that the patients demanded, or, rather, begged for themselves. However, caring for them even in this form was not only dangerous, but almost impossible - a person who today gave drink to a sick relative, tomorrow he himself fell ill with a "pimple", and in the house two or three dead people often lay down side by side. The rest of the orphaned families died without help - without the only help that our peasant cares about, "so that there is someone to give a drink." At first, such an orphan will put a bucket of water at his head and scoop it up with a ladle until his arm is raised, and then he will roll a nipple out of his sleeve or from the hem of his shirt, moisten it, put it in his mouth, and so it will stiffen with it.
End of introductory segment.
