Analysis of the work “Mowers” ​​(I.A. Bunin). Bunin, analysis of the mower’s work, Bunin’s plan for the mower, the main characters

It was a long time ago, in that life that “will not return forever.” The narrator walked along the high road, and ahead, in a small birch grove, men were mowing grass and singing.

The narrator was surrounded by the fields of “middle, primordial Russia.”

It seemed that no, and never was,

No time, no division of it into centuries, into years in this forgotten - or blessed - country.

The mowers walked from afar “through our Oryol places” to the even more fertile steppes, along the way helping to cope with the abundant haymaking. They were friendly, carefree and “eager to work.” They differed from the local mowers in their dialect, customs and clothing.

A week ago they were mowing in the forest near the narrator’s estate. Driving past, he saw how the mowers “went to work” - they drank spring water, stood in a row and let their mows run in a wide semicircle. When the narrator returned, the mowers were having dinner. He noticed that they were eating

“fly agaric mushrooms, terrible for their dope,” boiled in a cauldron. The narrator was horrified, and the mowers, laughing, said: “Nothing, they are sweet, pure chicken!”

Now they sang, and the narrator listened and could not understand “what is such a wondrous charm of their song.” The beauty was in the blood relationship that the narrator felt between himself and these simple mowers, one with the nature around them.

And there was also... the beauty that this homeland, this common home of ours was Russia, and that only her soul could sing the way the mowers sang in this birch forest responding to their every breath.

The singing was like a single sigh from a strong young chest. It was sung so directly and easily only in Russia. The mowers walked, without the slightest effort, “exposing the clearings in front of them,” and exhaled a song in which they “parted with their dear side,” grieved and said goodbye before death, but still did not believe “in this hopelessness.” They knew that there would be no real separation as long as “their native sky was above them, and around them was boundless Rus',” spacious, free and full of fabulous riches.

Cried in song good fellow, and his native land stood up for him, animals and birds came to his rescue, he received flying carpets and invisible hats, rivers of milk flowed for him and self-assembled tablecloths unfolded. He flew out of prison like a clear falcon, and the dense wilds hid him from his enemies.

And there was also something in this song that both the narrator and the mowers felt: endless happiness. These distant days have passed, for nothing lasts forever, “the ancient intercessors abandoned their children... prayers and spells were desecrated, Mother Cheese-Earth dried up.” The end has come, “the limit of God’s forgiveness.”

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It was a long time ago, in that life that “will not return forever.” The narrator walked along the high road, and ahead, in a small birch grove, men were mowing grass and singing.

The narrator was surrounded by the fields of “middle, primordial Russia.”

It seemed that there was no, and never had been, neither time nor its division into centuries, into years in this forgotten - or blessed - country.

The mowers walked from afar “through our Oryol places” to even more fertile steppes, along the way helping to cope with the abundant haymaking. They were friendly, carefree and “eager to work.” They differed from the local mowers in their dialect, customs and clothing.

A week ago they were mowing in the forest near the narrator’s estate. Driving past, he saw how the mowers “went to work” - they drank spring water, stood in a row and let their mows run in a wide semicircle. When the narrator returned, the mowers were having dinner. He noticed that they were eating “fly agaric mushrooms, terrible for their dope,” boiled in a pot. The narrator was horrified, and the mowers, laughing, said: “Nothing, they are sweet, pure chicken!”

Now they sang, and the narrator listened and could not understand “what is such a wondrous charm of their song.” The beauty was in the blood relationship that the narrator felt between himself and these simple mowers, one with the nature around them.

And there was also... the beauty that this homeland, this common home of ours was Russia, and that only her soul could sing the way the mowers sang in this birch forest responding to their every breath.

The singing was like a single sigh from a strong young chest. It was sung so directly and easily only in Russia. The mowers walked, without the slightest effort, “exposing the clearings in front of them” and exhaled a song in which they “parted with their dear side,” they grieved and said goodbye before death, but still did not believe “in this hopelessness.” They knew that there would be no real separation as long as there was “the native sky above them, and around them there was boundless Rus',” spacious, free and full of fabulous riches.

A good fellow cried in a song, and his native land stood up for him, animals and birds came to his rescue, he received flying carpets and invisible hats, rivers of milk flowed for him and self-assembled tablecloths unfolded. He flew out of prison like a clear falcon, and the dense wilds hid him from his enemies.

And there was also something in this song that both the narrator and the mowers felt: endless happiness. These distant days have passed, for nothing lasts forever, “the ancient intercessors abandoned their children... prayers and spells were desecrated, Mother Cheese Earth dried up.” The end has come, “the limit of God’s forgiveness.”

Summary of Bunin's story "Mowers"

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The narrator remembers how they walked along the high road, and in a young birch forest nearby, mowers mowed and sang. It was a long time ago. And the life that everyone lived at that time will never return.

There were fields all around. The old high road, rugged with ruts, went into the endless Russian distance. The sun was setting to the west, and a flock of sheep was graying ahead. An old shepherd with a hepherd sat on the boundary line. It seemed that there was no division of time in this forgotten - or blessed - country. And the mowers walked and sang in the midst of this eternal silence, and the birch forest answered just as easily and freely.

The mowers were distant, from Ryazan, passing through these lands to earn money, moving to more fertile lands. Carefree and friendly, not burdened with anything, they were “eager” to work. And they were better dressed than the locals.

A week ago the narrator rode by on horseback and saw them mowing in the nearby forest. They went to work in the afternoon: they drank sweet spring water from wooden jugs and cheerfully ran to the place. They let out their braids at once, playfully. And then he saw their dinner, when they sat near the extinguished fire and carried pieces of something pink out of cast iron. Looking closer, the narrator realized with horror that they were eating fly agaric mushrooms. And they just laughed: “Nothing, they are sweet, like chicken.”

Now they sang: “Forgive me, goodbye, dear friend!” and moved through the birch forest. And the narrator and his companion stood and listened, realizing that they would never forget this early evening hour, and most importantly, they would never understand what the charm of this song was. Material from the site

And the beauty was in everything - both in the sonority of the birch forest, and in the fact that this song did not exist on its own, but was closely connected with their thoughts and feelings and with the thoughts and feelings of the Ryazan mowers. It was felt that the person was so naive in ignorance of his strengths and talents that if he only sighed a little, the whole forest would immediately respond to the song. What else was the charm of this song, its inescapable joy despite all its seemingly hopelessness? The fact is that the person still did not believe, and could not believe in this hopelessness. “Oh, yes, all the paths are closed to me, young man!” - he said, sweetly mourning himself. But those who really have no way or road anywhere do not cry sweetly and do not sing of their sorrows. “My happiness has ended,” he sighed, “the dark night with its wilderness surrounds me,” and he was so close to this wilderness, alive for him, virgin and filled with magical powers! Everywhere for him there was shelter, lodging for the night, someone’s intercession, someone’s voice whispering: “Don’t worry, the morning is wiser than the evening, nothing is impossible for me, sleep well, child!” And, according to his faith, birds and forest animals, beautiful and wise princesses, and even Baba Yaga herself, saved him from all sorts of troubles. There were flying carpets for him, invisible hats, rivers of milk flowed, there were treasures of semi-precious stones, and from all mortal spells there were the keys of eternally living water. The merciful God forgave for all the daring whistles, the sharp, hot knives...

There was one more thing in this song - this is what both we and they, these Ryazan men, knew well in the depths of our souls, that we were infinitely happy in those days, now infinitely distant - and irrevocable.

For everything has its time, the fairy tale has passed. The end has come, the limit of God's forgiveness.

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Retelling
The author tells how he and his companions walked along the road, and nearby in a young birch forest they were mowing, mowing and singing. It was a long time ago, and that life will never return. They mowed and sang, and the entire birch forest with its flowers and smells responded to them. The forest picked up their song as freely and easily as they sang.
They were “distant”, “Ryazan”.

A small group walked through Oryol places, helping with haymaking and moving further into the steppe to earn money. They were somehow older and more solid than ours - in custom, in behavior, in language - neater and more beautiful clothes, with their soft leather shoe covers and white, well-tied footwear, clean trousers and shirts, with red, red collars and with the same gussets.
They came to work in a special way. They drank spring water from jugs, as only healthy Russian farm laborers drink. At the same time, they let out their braids and mowed them playfully, in an even sequence. They were amazed by their dinner. They used spoons to carry boiled fly agarics out of cast iron. They laughed and said that they were sweet, pure chicken!
Now they were singing. The main charm of this song was that “we were all children of our homeland and were all together, and we all felt good, calm and loving without a clear understanding of our feelings, because we don’t need them, we shouldn’t understand them when they exist. And there was also a charm (no longer recognized by us then) that this homeland, this our common home was Russia, that only its soul could sing as the mowers sang in this birch forest responding to their every breath.”
Both the mowers and the listeners of their singing were happy. And you can’t return that time: “...Mother - Cheese - Earth dried up, the life-giving springs dried up - and the end came, the limit to God’s forgiveness.”


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A great master of creating short prose works was Ivan Alekseevich Bunin. Readers are impressed by the main motives of his stories, their rare artistic subtlety, and unique techniques. One of the remarkable masterpieces is Bunin's story "Mowers". Analysis of the work given in this material, demonstrates the talent of the main writer of the Russian diaspora. After all, Ivan Alekseevich had to live far from his homeland.

While in exile, the writer dedicated his books to Russia, the Russian people. This also applies to Bunin's story "Mowers". WITH summary this small work We suggest you read our article. After reading the story, you will understand why Ivan Alekseevich was awarded the Nobel Prize for recreating the Russian character in prose.

Ivan Alekseevich lived in the Oryol province for a long time before emigrating and was a faithful son of Russia. When he was presented with the prize, he noted that the entire Russian people deserved it.

Bunin. "Mowers." Contents in summary

So, let's try to briefly retell Ivan Alekseevich's small masterpiece. We begin our retelling of Bunin’s “Mowers” ​​with the fact that at the edge of the forest, where young birch trees grow, the author and his companion see mowers at work. The writer notices their noble appearance, neatness and hard work. They enjoy what they do. This friendly company seems completely carefree.

Evening has approached, and the author again wants to meet the mowers. He sees them at dinner. They enjoy a dish made from fly agarics, which they find sweetish and reminiscent of chicken. The workers rested and decided to sing. It seemed that their sonorous voices filled the forest air with a special charm, a wondrous charm.

The song seemed sad, but they performed it with particular daring. At that moment the author realized that there is no hopelessness in life. Huge Rus' can help anyone and help anyone out. Until the night the mowers delighted with their songs. The writer enjoyed this moment and inhaled the fresh aromas of honey-like forest herbs, marveling at the harmonious interweaving of man and nature.

The end of the story is a little sad; the author nostalgically recalls the mowers and their singing. He felt happy next to these workers, and their songs gave him true joy. Bunin is sincerely sorry that he cannot return more of those fabulous moments.

Plot Features

Ivan Alekseevich himself claimed that he wrote about beauty in all its forms; he conveyed part of his soul in the description of Russian nature in I. Bunin’s work “Mowers”. The analysis of the story must begin with the features of the plot. Like many other short works of the writer, the story "Mowers" does not have certain storylines. This is a kind of memory of how he met Ryazan mowers in the field, who sang incredibly beautifully.

The story deeply and heartfeltly conveys the feelings that overwhelmed the writer while they were singing. Even then the narrator understood that he would never forget that early evening hour. The author is surprised how deep the Russian soul is, that even he does not understand all the subtleties of the songs of rural workers.

Compositional and genre originality

There is no clearly defined composition in the story "Mowers". It is worth noting that individual characters do not stand out here either. There is only a separate image of mowers. The author's feelings and thoughts come to the fore in the work.

In his reflections, the writer compares these workers with something enchanting, merged into a single team, sees that their singing is very harmoniously woven into the life of nature, but they don’t even think about it. While singing, the author feels like a part of this people. Their song and the surrounding nature are inseparable from their homeland, Russia.

What genre does it belong to? this work? Perhaps this is a kind of prose poem, where the writer reflects on the Russian people. After all, Bunin so needed spiritual unity with Russia abroad. It can also be called a poetic sketch, a lyrical essay. The story is full of epithets, metaphors, comparisons.

Nature in Bunin's story "Mowers"

By describing Russian nature in the work, Ivan Alekseevich showed how subtly he felt it. His birch forest seems to respond to the song of the mowers. The author describes the old road, which is overgrown with curly ant, and argues that his grandfathers and great-grandfathers walked along this road so many times. During the day, beautiful light clouds floated across the sky, and in the evening the sky began to turn golden.

Workers feel great in the bosom of this nature. The reader just wants to share the delight and joy conveyed by the author in his description of the area and the process of haymaking. Immediately before my eyes, the paintings of A. A. Plastov “Haymaking” and G. G. Myasoedov “Time of Passion. Mowers” ​​pop up. They can even be called illustrations to Bunin’s story.

The author depicts the kinship of strong workers with nature. These people are not burdened by such hard work. They sing a song that merges with the birch forest. The trees respond to the wondrous singing. The color scheme in the work is also very rich: gray, golden, blue, red, pink, black, red. A feature of this and other stories is repetition, which is why it looks like a prose poem. The word "lovely" is repeated several times. It refers to the nature and song of mowers.

Workers in the story

The mowers not only worked, but also sang. It seemed like they didn't even make much effort at work. The workers waved their scythes around them, and they exposed entire clearings. The writer portrays not the locals, but the Ryazan mowers, who came from another region of Russia, but are distinguished by their cohesion. A special desire for work was noticeable in their movements.

And the author was happy to watch their coordinated work. They let out their braids widely, as if playing. They walked exactly one after another, mowing down stumps and bushes. Even in the sighs of these workers, the writer saw Russian beauty. In this prose poem, Bunin glorifies the work of mowers.

Meaning of folk song

In his work “Mowers,” Ivan Bunin subtly describes the song of field workers, glorifying their homeland, happiness, and hope. Some lines are dedicated to the girl he loves, to unhappy love. The beauty of mowers’ singing is in the sonority responses. They are children of their land, so such a spiritual impulse is characteristic only of them.

Bunin compares the singing of mowers to the singing of the soul. He doesn't even find words to express the beauty of this song. It has a connection with the entire world around it. These naive people, who did not know their strengths and talents, sang so much that even the forest responded to their sounds. They sounded joyful and hopeless at the same time. One of the mowers mourned himself: “Oh, all the paths for me, good fellow, are closed.” Can those who have nowhere to go and roads are closed everywhere sing and mourn so sweetly? These people don't believe in hopelessness. The most important thing in that song is that you cannot return past happy days.

The image of the Motherland in the work

While in exile, Bunin turns to the past and shows it transformed. The writer is drawn to his compatriots, he loves Russia. Therefore, in Bunin's story "Mowers" the Motherland is shown as immeasurable and distant. The writer depicted the Ryazan peasants, their inspired work, a soul-touching song during haymaking on Oryol land. Thus, the author recalls those times when he felt good and calm in his homeland.

It is on Russian material that the works of Ivan Alekseevich’s emigrant period are built. In a foreign land, the writer constantly remembered his native land, its fields, villages, peasants and nobles, and nature. Ivan Bunin knew both the Russian peasant and the Russian nobleman very well. The West is alien to the writer; he could not write about it. Bunin's works were filled with the classical traditions of Russian literature. Also, the master of words did not ignore love, life, the future of the whole world.

The writer calls the Oryol land described in the story “my native side.” And he calls Russia not just the Motherland, but a common home. In the words “boundless native Rus'” he expresses his love for her. He is connected by blood to the unsightly Russian hinterland. The writer claims that no matter where fate takes a person, he will always have his native sky before his eyes.

Sad ending

At the end of the story, readers see a sad memory of the mowers and their song. Once upon a time he too was happy in the Russian expanses. But those days are gone. This makes the author very sad. He would like to return to bygone times. But, unfortunately, he left his homeland due to political views and fear of persecution.

Like other works of the writer, “Mowers” ​​is filled with anxiety for the fate of Russia. Bunin proves that he is a true analyst of the life of the Russian people, their character, language, traditions. At the end of the story, the writer says that the fairy tale has already passed for the Russian people, God’s mercy has passed.

Idea

The story "Mowers" is called a poetic sketch, which is accompanied by the author's reflection on the fate of Russia. Once, while traveling on a ship, Bunin heard the song of the porters. This was the reason for writing this poem in prose. The writer talks about the Russian people, about the spiritual unity of people with their country. The main thing that Ivan Alekseevich wanted to show: listening to the song of the mowers, everyone feels like one whole - Russia. Everyone should feel their land and be proud of it. After all, the mowers sang as easily and naturally as only a Russian can.

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