Dostoevsky White Nights very brief summary. "White Nights. F. M. Dostoevsky. White Nights. Audiobook

Sentimental novel

(From the memories of a dreamer)

Or was he created for
To be there for just a moment.
In the neighborhood of your heart?..

Iv. Turgenev

Night one

It was a wonderful night, the kind of night that can only happen when we are young, dear reader. The sky was so starry, such a bright sky that, looking at it, one involuntarily had to ask oneself: could all sorts of angry and capricious people really live under such a sky? This is also a young question, dear reader, very young, but God send it to your soul more often!.. Speaking about capricious and various angry gentlemen, I could not help but remember my well-behaved behavior all that day. From the very morning I began to be tormented by some amazing melancholy. It suddenly seemed to me that everyone was abandoning me, alone, and that everyone was abandoning me. Of course, everyone has the right to ask: who are all these people? because I’ve been living in St. Petersburg for eight years now, and I haven’t been able to make almost a single acquaintance. But why do I need acquaintances? I already know the whole of St. Petersburg; That’s why it seemed to me that everyone was leaving me when the whole of St. Petersburg rose up and suddenly left for the dacha. I became afraid to be alone, and for three whole days I wandered around the city in deep melancholy, absolutely not understanding what was happening to me. Whether I go to Nevsky, whether I go to the garden, whether I wander along the embankment - not a single face from those whom I am accustomed to meeting in the same place, at a certain hour, for a whole year. They, of course, don’t know me, but I know them. I know them briefly; I have almost studied their faces - and I admire them when they are cheerful, and I mope when they become misty. I almost became friends with one old man whom I meet every single day, at a certain hour, on the Fontanka. The face is so important, thoughtful; He keeps whispering under his breath and waving his left hand, and in his right he has a long, knotty cane with a gold knob. Even he noticed me and takes emotional part in me. If it happened that I would not be at the same place on the Fontanka at a certain hour, I am sure that the blues would attack him. This is why we sometimes almost bow to each other, especially when we are both in a good mood. The other day, when we had not seen each other for two whole days and on the third day we met, we were already grabbing our hats, but fortunately we came to our senses in time, lowered our hands and walked next to each other with sympathy. I am also familiar with the houses. When I walk, everyone seems to run ahead of me into the street, look at me through all the windows and almost say: “Hello; How is your health? and I, thank God, am healthy, and a floor will be added to me in the month of May.” Or: “How is your health? and I’ll be repaired tomorrow.” Or: “I almost burned out, and at the same time I was scared,” etc. Of these, I have favorites, there are short friends; one of them intends to undergo treatment this summer with an architect. I’ll come in every day on purpose so that it doesn’t get healed somehow, God forbid!.. But I’ll never forget the story of one very pretty light pink house. It was such a nice little stone house, it looked at me so welcomingly, it looked so proudly at its clumsy neighbors that my heart rejoiced when I happened to pass by. Suddenly, last week, I was walking down the street and, as I looked at a friend, I heard a plaintive cry: “And they are painting me yellow!” Villains! barbarians! they spared nothing: neither columns, nor cornices, and my friend turned yellow as a canary. I was almost filled with bile on this occasion, and I still was not able to see my disfigured poor man, who was painted with the Color of the Celestial Empire. So, you understand, reader, how familiar I am with all of St. Petersburg. I have already said that I was tormented by anxiety for three whole days, until I guessed the reason for it. And I felt bad on the street (this one wasn’t there, that one wasn’t there, where did so-and-so go?) - and at home I wasn’t myself. For two evenings I sought: what am I missing in my corner? Why was it so awkward to stay there? - and with bewilderment I looked around at my green, smoky walls, at the ceiling, hung with cobwebs that Matryona had been planting with great success, looked through all my furniture, examined every chair, thinking, is this where the trouble lies? (because if I have even one chair that’s not standing the way it was yesterday, then I’m not myself) I looked out the window, and it was all in vain... it didn’t feel any easier! I even decided to call Matryona and immediately gave her a fatherly reprimand for the cobwebs and general sloppiness; but she just looked at me in surprise and walked away without answering a word, so that the web is still happily hanging in place. Finally, only this morning I figured out what was the matter. Eh! Yes, the Vedas are running away from me to the dacha! Forgive me for the trivial word, but I had no time for high-minded syllables... because everything that was in St. Petersburg either moved or moved to the dacha; because every respectable gentleman of respectable appearance who hired a cab driver, in my eyes, immediately turned into a respectable father of a family, who, after ordinary official duties, goes lightly to the depths of his family, to the dacha, because every passer-by now had a completely special appearance, which I almost said to everyone I met: “We, gentlemen, are here only in passing, but in two hours we will leave for the dacha.” If the window opened, on which thin fingers, white as sugar, first drummed, and the head of a pretty girl poked out, beckoning a peddler with pots of flowers, I immediately, immediately imagined that these flowers were only bought for that reason, that is, not at all for that purpose. to enjoy spring and flowers in a stuffy city apartment, but that very soon everyone will move to the dacha and take the flowers with them. Moreover, I had already made such success in my new, special kind of discoveries that I could already unmistakably, by one look, indicate which dacha someone lived in. The inhabitants of the Kamenny and Aptekarsky islands or the Peterhof road were distinguished by their studied elegance of techniques, smart summer suits and beautiful carriages in which they arrived in the mountains. Residents of Pargolov and where further away, at first glance “inspired” with their prudence and solidity; the visitor to Krestovsky Island had a calm and cheerful appearance. Did I manage to meet a long procession of dray drivers, lazily walking with reins in their hands next to carts loaded with whole mountains of all kinds of furniture, tables, chairs, Turkish and non-Turkish sofas and other household belongings, on which, on top of all this, she often sat, at the very top Voza, a frugal cook who cherishes her master’s property like the apple of her eye; I looked at the boats, heavily loaded with household utensils, gliding along the Neva or Fontanka, to the Black River or the islands - the carts and boats multiplied tenfold, became lost in my eyes; it seemed that everything was up and moving, everything was moving in whole caravans to the dacha; it seemed that all of Petersburg was threatening to turn into a desert, so that finally I felt ashamed, offended and sad: I had absolutely nowhere to go and there was no need to go to the dacha. I was ready to leave with every cart, to leave with every gentleman of respectable appearance who hired a cab; but no one, absolutely no one, invited me; as if they had forgotten me, as if I were truly a stranger to them! I walked a lot and for a long time, so that I was already quite done, as is my custom; I forgot where I was, when suddenly I found myself at the outpost. Instantly I felt cheerful, and I stepped beyond the barrier, walked between the sown fields and meadows, did not hear fatigue, but only felt with all my strength that some burden was falling from my soul. All the passers-by looked at me so welcomingly that they almost bowed resolutely; everyone was so happy about something, every single one of them was smoking cigars. And I was glad as never happened to me before. It was as if I suddenly found myself in Italy - nature struck me so strongly, a half-sick city dweller who almost suffocated within the city walls. There is something inexplicably touching in our St. Petersburg nature, when, with the onset of spring, it suddenly shows all its power, all the powers given to it by the sky become feathered, discharged, adorned with flowers... Somehow, involuntarily, it reminds me of that girl, wasted and the ailment at which you sometimes look with regret, sometimes with some kind of compassionate love, sometimes you simply don’t notice it, but which suddenly, for one moment, somehow accidentally becomes inexplicably, wonderfully beautiful, and you are amazed, intoxicated, involuntarily You ask yourself: what force made these sad, thoughtful eyes shine with such fire? what brought the blood to those pale, thinner cheeks? What has filled these tender features with passion? Why is this chest heaving so much? What so suddenly brought strength, life and beauty to the face of the poor girl, made it sparkle with such a smile, come alive with such a sparkling, sparkling laugh? You look around, you are looking for someone, you guess... But the moment passes, and perhaps tomorrow you will again meet the same thoughtful and absent-minded look as before, the same pale face, the same humility and timidity in movements and even repentance, even traces of some kind of deadening melancholy and annoyance for a momentary passion... And it’s a pity for you that instant beauty withered so quickly, so irrevocably, that it flashed before you so deceptively and in vain - it’s a pity because You didn’t even have time to love her... Still, my night was better than my day! Here's how it went: I came back to the city very late, and ten o’clock had already struck when I began to approach the apartment. My road went along the canal embankment, on which at this hour you will not meet a living soul. True, I live in the most remote part of the city. I walked and sang, because when I am happy, I certainly hum something to myself, like every happy person who has neither friends nor good acquaintances and who, in a joyful moment, has no one to share his joy with. Suddenly the most unexpected adventure happened to me. A woman stood to the side, leaning against the canal railing; Leaning on the grating, she apparently looked very carefully at the muddy water of the canal. She was dressed in a cute yellow hat and a flirty black cape. “This is a girl, and definitely a brunette,” I thought. She didn’t seem to hear my steps, didn’t even move when I walked past, holding my breath and with my heart pounding. "Strange! — I thought, “she must be really thinking about something,” and suddenly I stopped dead in my tracks. I thought I heard a muffled sob. Yes! I was not deceived: the girl was crying, and a minute later there was more and more sobbing. My God! My heart sank. And no matter how timid I am with women, it was such a moment!.. I turned back, stepped towards her and would certainly have said: “Madam!” - if only I didn’t know that this exclamation has already been uttered a thousand times in all Russian high-society novels. This alone stopped me. But while I was looking for the word, the girl woke up, looked around, caught herself, looked down and slid past me along the embankment. I immediately followed her, but she guessed, left the embankment, crossed the street and walked along the sidewalk. I didn't dare cross the street. My heart was fluttering like a caught bird. Suddenly one incident came to my aid. On the other side of the sidewalk, not far from my stranger, a gentleman in a tailcoat, respectable years old, but one cannot say that he had a respectable gait, suddenly appeared. He walked, staggering and carefully leaning against the wall. The girl walked like an arrow, hastily and timidly, as all girls generally walk who do not want anyone to volunteer to accompany them home at night, and, of course, the swinging gentleman would never have caught up with her if my fate had not encouraged him to look for artificial remedies. Suddenly, without saying a word to anyone, my master takes off and flies as fast as he can, running, catching up with my stranger. She walked like the wind, but the swaying gentleman overtook, overtook, the girl screamed - and... I bless fate for the excellent knotty stick that happened this time in my right hand. I instantly found myself on the other side of the sidewalk, instantly the uninvited gentleman understood what was going on, took into account an irresistible reason, fell silent, fell behind, and only when we were already very far away did he protest against me in quite energetic terms. But his words barely reached us. “Give me your hand,” I said to my stranger, “and he won’t dare pester us anymore.” She silently gave me her hand, still trembling with excitement and fear. O uninvited master! how I blessed you at this moment! I glanced at her: she was pretty and brunette - I guessed right; Tears of recent fright or former grief still glistened on her black eyelashes - I don’t know. But a smile was already sparkling on his lips. She also glanced at me furtively, blushed slightly and looked down. “You see, why did you drive me away then?” If I had been here, nothing would have happened... - But I didn’t know you: I thought you too... - Do you really know me now? - A little. For example, why are you trembling? - Oh, you guessed it right the first time! - I answered in delight that my girlfriend is smart: this never interferes with beauty. - Yes, at first glance you guessed who you were dealing with. That’s right, I’m timid with women, I’m nervous, I don’t argue, no less than you were a minute ago when this gentleman scared you... I’m kind of scared now. It was like a dream, and even in my dreams I never imagined that I would ever talk to any woman.- How? really?.. “Yes, if my hand trembles, it’s because it has never been clasped by such a pretty little hand as yours.” I'm completely unaccustomed to women; that is, I never got used to them; I'm alone... I don't even know how to talk to them. And now I don’t know - did I tell you something stupid? Tell me straight; I warn you, I'm not touchy... - No, nothing, nothing; against. And if you already demand that I be frank, then I will tell you that women like such timidity; and if you want to know more, then I like her too, and I will not drive you away from me all the way home. “You will do to me,” I began, gasping with delight, “that I will immediately stop being timid, and then - goodbye to all my means!” - Facilities? what means, for what? This is really bad. - I’m sorry, I won’t, it just came out of my mouth; but how do you want there to be no desire at such a moment... — Do you like it, or what? - Well, yes; Yes, for God's sake, be kind. Judge who I am! After all, I’m already twenty-six years old, and I’ve never seen anyone. Well, how can I speak well, deftly and appropriately? It will be more profitable for you when everything is open, outward... I don’t know how to remain silent when my heart speaks in me. Well, it doesn’t matter... Believe it or not, not a single woman, ever, ever! No dating! and I only dream every day that finally, someday I will meet someone. Oh, if you only knew how many times I have been in love this way!.. - But how, in whom?.. - Yes, not to anyone, to the ideal, to the one you dream about in a dream. I create entire novels in my dreams. Oh, you don't know me! True, it’s impossible without that, I met two or three women, but what kind of women are they? these are all such housewives that... But I’ll make you laugh, I’ll tell you that several times I thought of talking, just like that, to some aristocrat on the street, of course, when she was alone; speak, of course, timidly, respectfully, passionately; to say that I am dying alone, so that she does not drive me away, that there is no way to recognize at least some woman; to inspire her that even in a woman’s duties it is not possible to refuse the timid plea of such an unfortunate person as me. That, finally, all I demand is just to say a few brotherly words to me, with sympathy, not to drive me away from the first step, to take my word for it, to listen to what I have to say, to laugh me, if you like, to reassure me, to say two words to me, just two words, then at least let her and I never meet!.. But you laugh... However, that’s why I’m saying it... - Don't be annoyed; I laugh at the fact that you are your own enemy, and if you had tried, you would have succeeded, perhaps, even if it was on the street; the simpler the better... Not a single good woman, unless she is stupid or especially angry about something at that moment, would dare to send you away without these two words that you so timidly beg... However, what am I! Of course, I would take you for a madman. I judged by myself. I myself know a lot about how people live in the world! “Oh, thank you,” I shouted, “you don’t know what you’ve done for me now!” - Good good! But tell me why you knew that I was the kind of woman with whom... well, whom you considered worthy... of attention and friendship... in a word, not a mistress, as you call it. Why did you decide to approach me? - Why? Why? But you were alone, that gentleman was too bold, now it’s night: you yourself must agree that this is a duty... - No, no, even before, there, on the other side. After all, you wanted to come to me? - There, on the other side? But I really don’t know how to answer; I'm afraid... You know, I was happy today; I walked, sang; I was out of town; I have never had such happy moments before. You... maybe it seemed to me... Well, forgive me if I remind you: it seemed to me that you were crying, and I... I couldn’t hear it... my heart was embarrassed... Oh , My God! Well, really, couldn’t I grieve for you? Was it really a sin to feel brotherly compassion for you?.. Sorry, I said compassion... Well, yes, in a word, could I really offend you by involuntarily taking it into my head to approach you?.. “Leave it, enough, don’t talk...” said the girl, looking down and squeezing my hand. “It’s my own fault for talking about this; but I’m glad that I wasn’t mistaken about you... but now I’m home; I need to come here, to the alley; there are two steps... Farewell, thank you... - So is it really, will we never see each other again?.. Will it really remain like this? “You see,” the girl said, laughing, “at first you only wanted two words, and now... But, however, I won’t tell you anything... Maybe we’ll meet... “I’ll come here tomorrow,” I said. - Oh, forgive me, I already demand... - Yes, you are impatient... you are almost demanding... - Listen, listen! - I interrupted her. - Forgive me if I tell you something like that again... But here’s the thing: I can’t help but come here tomorrow. I'm a dreamer; I have so little real life that I consider moments like this, as now, so rare that I cannot help but repeat these minutes in my dreams. I will dream about you all night, all week, all year. I will certainly come here tomorrow, exactly here, to this same place, at this very hour, and I will be happy, remembering yesterday. This place is so nice to me. I already have two or three such places in St. Petersburg. I even cried once from the memory, like you... Who knows, maybe you, ten minutes ago, cried from the memory... But forgive me, I forgot again; you may have ever been particularly happy here. “Okay,” said the girl, “I’ll probably come here tomorrow, also at ten o’clock.” I see that I can’t stop you anymore... That’s the thing, I need to be here; don’t think that I’m making an appointment with you; I'm warning you, I need to be here for myself. But... well, I’ll tell you straight out: it will be okay if you come; firstly, there may be troubles again, like today, but that’s aside... in a word, I would just like to see you... to say a few words to you. But, you see, you won’t judge me now? Don’t think that I make dates so easily... I would, if only... But let it be my secret! Just forward the agreement... - Agreement! say, say, say everything in advance; “I agree to anything, I’m ready for anything,” I cried out in delight, “I’m responsible for myself—I’ll be obedient, respectful... you know me... “It’s precisely because I know you that I’m inviting you tomorrow,” the girl said, laughing. - I know you completely. But, look, come with a condition; first of all (just be so kind as to do what I ask - you see, I’m speaking frankly), don’t fall in love with me... This is impossible, I assure you. I’m ready for friendship, here’s my hand to you... But you can’t fall in love, please! “I swear to you,” I shouted, grabbing her hand... - Come on, don’t swear, I know you can catch fire like gunpowder. Don't judge me if I say so. If only you knew... I also don’t have anyone with whom I could say a word, who I could ask for advice. Of course, you shouldn’t look for advisers on the street, but you’re an exception. I know you as if we had been friends for twenty years... Isn’t it true, you won’t change?.. “You’ll see... but I don’t know how I’ll survive even a day.” - Sleep better; good night - and remember that I have already entrusted myself to you. But you exclaimed so well just now: is it really possible to give an account of every feeling, even brotherly sympathy! Do you know, this was said so well that the thought immediately flashed through me of trusting you... - For God's sake, but what? What? - Till tomorrow. Let this be a secret for now. So much the better for you; at least from a distance it will look like a novel. Maybe I’ll tell you tomorrow, or maybe not... I’ll talk to you in advance, we’ll get to know each other better... - Oh, yes, I’ll tell you everything about myself tomorrow! But what is it? It’s like a miracle is happening to me... Where am I, my God? Well, tell me, are you really unhappy that you didn’t get angry, as someone else would have done, and didn’t drive me away at the very beginning? Two minutes and you made me happy forever. Yes! happy; who knows, maybe you have reconciled me with yourself, resolved my doubts... Maybe such moments come to me... Well, I’ll tell you everything tomorrow, you’ll know everything, everything... - Okay, I accept; you will begin...- Agree. - Goodbye! - Goodbye! And we parted. I walked all night; I could not decide to return home. I was so happy... see you tomorrow!

The main character of the work (the author does not name him) is a poor official of twenty-six years old. He has been living in St. Petersburg for eight years, but has never made any friends. In his free time, the man walks around the city and indulges in daydreaming, in which he sees himself as the hero of various romantic stories.

At the beginning of the story, the dreamer experiences causeless melancholy; it seems to him that everyone has abandoned him. He scolds the cook Matryona because the woman did not remove the cobwebs. The hero's apartment seems dull and cold to him.

The dreamer is used to walking around the city and meeting different people. But now everyone has gone to their dachas, and he wanders alone through the streets, not finding familiar faces. The hero is completely at a loss: everyone he met before seems to have disappeared.

True, outside the city his mood improves significantly. The dreamer rejoices at the spring renewal of nature and bows to strangers. But such moments pass quickly. After a pleasant walk, you need to return to the dull, deserted city.

One late evening the hero returns home and on the bank of the canal meets a girl who is crying, leaning on the parapet. He wants to calm the stranger down, but does not dare approach her. Frightened by the man, the girl runs away. The hero follows, regretting that he cannot find a reason to meet. But then chance comes to his rescue: a drunk passer-by accosts the young lady. Our hero rushes to the rescue and drives away the bully.

The defender offers the stranger to take her home, to which she agrees. The dreamer takes a closer look at the girl's lovely features and her beautiful black hair. He admits that for the first time in his life he met a woman. The stranger is surprised, but believes her savior. The hero begs for a new date, and the girl agrees to meet tomorrow at the same place. However, the stranger puts forward a condition - this will not be a romantic date, the young man should not fall in love with her. The girl promises to tell her more about herself tomorrow and listen to the man’s story.

Night two

The dreamer is looking forward to a new date with great impatience. During the conversation, it turns out that the girl’s name is Nastenka. She lives with her grandmother, who has gone blind and does not let her go one step away. He even pins the girl's dress to his clothes. Fulfilling Nastenka’s wish, the hero talks in detail about how he spends all his free time in dreams. He understands the futility of such an existence, the futility of constantly living in fantasy while real life passes by. A young man wants to find a kindred spirit, to help someone. But he has no one, his life is lonely and empty. Nastenka feels sorry for her new acquaintance and says that now he is not alone, they are friends. Then the girl tells her story.

Nastenka's story

Nastenka is now seventeen years old. She was orphaned as a child, and her grandmother raised her. Until she was fifteen, she hired teachers for the girl, including a French teacher. One day Nastenka, taking advantage of the fact that her grandmother had dozed off, pinned the dress of the deaf cook Fyokla to her clothes, and she ran away to her friend. Grandma woke up and began asking Fyokla something, thinking that she was talking to Nastenka. The cook saw that they were addressing her, but, naturally, she could not answer. She got scared, unfastened the pin and ran away. This is how the girl’s deception was revealed, for which the grandmother strongly scolded her granddaughter. After this incident, the old woman began to restrict the girl’s freedom even more.

Nastenka also said that they live in a small two-story house. On the ground floor there is her, grandmother and Fyokla, and the mezzanine is for rent. One day a visiting young man settled in it. The new tenant came to talk to his grandmother about renovations in his rooms, and the old woman asked Nastenka to bring the bills. The girl jumped up, forgetting that she was pinned with a pin. She felt ashamed in front of the young man. The tenant was also embarrassed and left immediately.

Two weeks later, the new guest told the girl that he had a lot of books. Nastenka can take them to read to her grandmother. The old woman agreed, provided that they were “moral books.” So Nastenka read the works of Pushkin and several novels by Walter Scott.

One day, a girl accidentally met a tenant on the stairs, and a conversation began between the young people. The guest asked Nastenka about the books she had read. A few days later he asked: isn’t it boring for the girl to sit with the old woman all the time? Does she have any friends? Nastenka said that her friend Masha moved to live in another city, but there are no more friends.

When the tenant invited Nastenka to the theater, the girl refused, afraid of her grandmother’s anger. The young man had no choice but to invite the old woman to the performance. This is how Nastenka first came to the theater to see The Barber of Seville. After this, the guest invited the old woman and her granddaughter to the theater several more times. Nastenka herself did not notice how she fell in love with the young man. She, however, was afraid that her love would not be reciprocated. And these fears began to come true.

Soon the tenant announced that he was leaving for Moscow on business. Nastenka was very upset by this news. For several days she could not find a place for herself and on the last night before leaving she decided on a desperate act. The girl gathered her things into a bundle and went up to the mezzanine.

The man clearly did not expect such a visit and was very depressed. Nastenka cried from shame and despair. Through tears, she swore her love to the young man, assured that she no longer wanted to live with her grandmother and was ready to go to Moscow. The guest consoled the girl for a long time, explaining to her that he was too poor and could not get married now. But in the end he promised that he would return and offer her his hand and heart. The young people agreed: exactly one year later they would meet on the embankment at ten o’clock in the evening. In the place where the dreamer first met the tear-stained girl. Nastenka knew that her lover had been in the city for three days, but had not come on a date.

The dreamer volunteered to take a letter from the girl to his lover. Nastenka was very happy about this proposal. It turned out that the letter had already been written, and the girl herself wanted to ask the hero for such a favor. The news should have been taken to mutual acquaintances of Nastenka and her fiancé. Before leaving, the young man promised that he would visit them as soon as he arrived. If Nastenka wishes, she can leave a message there.

Night three

The hero took the letter to the specified address. Nastenka really hoped that her beloved would respond to her message and come at the appointed time. She invited the dreamer to share the joy of this meeting and decided to introduce her lover to her new and only friend. In high spirits, Nastenka makes plans for her life. However, our hero begins to realize that he has already fallen in love with the girl. He becomes bitter because Nastenka perceives him only as a friend.

The wait turns out to be in vain - Nastenka’s beloved never came. The girl is very upset. The dreamer consoles her, convinces her that he has not yet received the letter and will definitely come tomorrow. These words calm Nastenka, she perked up a little. The girl asks her friend to go get the answer tomorrow. The hero, of course, agrees. However, the girl warns: if it rains tomorrow, she will not be able to come to the meeting and then they will see each other the day after tomorrow.

Night four

The next day it rained. Despite the bad weather, the dreamer still came to the appointed place. Nastenka, as expected, did not show up. The hero worried all day and could hardly wait for the next evening.

There was never a response to the letter. However, like his beloved Nastenka himself. Deciding that he would never come again, the girl became very upset and burst into tears. The dreamer consoles her in every possible way, but in vain. Nastenka announces that it’s all over, she no longer loves this evil man who cruelly deceived her.

After such words, the dreamer decides to confess his love to Nastenka. He expects the girl to drive him away - after all, the condition of their friendship has been violated. But Nastenka forgives the young man. She guessed about the dreamer's feelings. The girl assures that even if she doesn’t love him now, she will soon love him, since he is wonderful. And she hates her former lover. He rejected the girl and did not even deign to give her a conversation or a short note.

Nastenka invites the hero to move to their empty mezzanine, and the young man agrees to do this tomorrow. The dreamer and the girl dream of getting married and living with their grandmother, Fyokla and Matryona.

But at this time a young man approached the couple. Nastenka recognized her lover in him and rushed into his arms. The dreamer had no choice but to watch this touching meeting with bitterness.

Morning

The next morning was rainy. The hero felt very unwell, he was broken and depressed. Matryona brings a letter from Nastenka, in which the girl apologizes and thanks the dreamer for his help, love and participation. She writes that she is getting married in a week. Nastenka wants to introduce the hero to her fiancé so that they also become friends.

It seems to the dreamer that the world has darkened. The apartment, despite the absence of cobwebs, seems dirty and gloomy to him, and his future life is completely joyless. But the hero is still grateful to Nastenka for the short happiness of loving and hoping that she gave him.

A young man of twenty-six years old is a petty official who has been living for eight years in St. Petersburg in the 1840s, in one of the apartment buildings along the Catherine Canal, in a room with cobwebs and smoky walls. After service, his favorite pastime is walking around the city. He notices passers-by and houses, some of them become his “friends”. However, he has almost no acquaintances among people. He is poor and lonely. With sadness, he watches as the residents of St. Petersburg gather for their dacha. He has nowhere to go. Going out of the city, he enjoys the northern spring nature, which looks like a “sick and sick” girl, for one moment becoming “wonderfully beautiful.”

Returning home at ten in the evening, the hero sees a female figure at the canal grate and hears sobbing. Sympathy prompts him to make an acquaintance, but the girl timidly runs away. A drunk man tries to pester her, and only a “bough stick”, which ends up in the hero’s hand, saves the pretty stranger. They talk to each other. The young man admits that before he knew only “housewives,” but he never spoke to “women” and therefore is very timid. This calms down the fellow traveler. She listens to the story about the “novels” that the guide created in his dreams, about falling in love with ideal fictional images, about the hope of someday meeting in reality a girl worthy of love. But now she’s almost home and wants to say goodbye. The dreamer begs for a new meeting. The girl “needs to be here for herself,” and she does not mind the presence of a new acquaintance tomorrow at the same hour in the same place. Her condition is “friendship”, “but you can’t fall in love.” Like the Dreamer, she needs someone to trust, someone to ask for advice.

On their second meeting, they decide to listen to each other's "stories". The hero begins. It turns out that he is a “type”: in the “strange corners of St. Petersburg” live “neuter creatures” like him - “dreamers” - whose “life is a mixture of something purely fantastic, ardently ideal and at the same time dull prosaic and ordinary " They are afraid of the company of living people, as they spend long hours among “magical ghosts,” in “ecstatic dreams,” and in imaginary “adventures.” “You speak as if you are reading a book,” Nastenka guesses the source of the plots and images of her interlocutor: the works of Hoffmann, Merimee, V. Scott, Pushkin. After intoxicating, “voluptuous” dreams, it is painful to wake up in “loneliness”, in your “musty, unnecessary life.” The girl feels sorry for her friend, and he himself understands that “such a life is a crime and a sin.” After the “fantastic nights,” he already “has moments of sobering that are terrible.” “Dreams survive,” the soul wants “real life.” Nastenka promises the Dreamer that now they will be together. And here is her confession. She is an orphan. Lives with an old blind grandmother in a small house of her own. She studied with a teacher until she was fifteen, and for the last two years she has been sitting, “pinned” with a pin to her grandmother’s dress, who otherwise cannot keep track of her. A year ago they had a tenant, a young man of “pleasant appearance.” He gave his young mistress books by V. Scott, Pushkin and other authors. He invited them and their grandmother to the theater. The opera “The Barber of Seville” was especially memorable. When he announced that he was leaving, the poor recluse decided on a desperate act: she gathered her things in a bundle, came to the tenant’s room, sat down and “cryed in three streams.” Fortunately, he understood everything, and most importantly, he managed to fall in love with Nastenka. But he was poor and without a “decent place”, and therefore could not get married right away. They agreed that exactly a year later, having returned from Moscow, where he hoped to “arrange his affairs,” the young man would wait for his bride on a bench near the canal at ten o’clock in the evening. A year has passed. He has been in St. Petersburg for three days already. He is not at the appointed place... Now the hero understands the reason for the girl’s tears on the evening of their acquaintance. Trying to help, he volunteers to deliver her letter to the groom, which he does the next day.

Because of the rain, the third meeting of the heroes occurs only through the night. Nastenka is afraid that the groom will not come again, and cannot hide her excitement from her friend. She dreams feverishly about the future. The hero is sad because he himself loves the girl. And yet, the Dreamer has enough selflessness to console and reassure the despondent Nastenka. Touched, the girl compares the groom with a new friend: “Why is he not you?.. He is worse than you, even though I love him more than you.” And he continues to dream: “Why aren’t we all like brothers and brothers? Why does the best person always seem to hide something from another and remain silent from him? Everyone looks like that, as if he is harsher than he really is...” Gratefully accepting the Dreamer’s sacrifice, Nastenka also shows concern for him: “you are getting better,” “you will fall in love...” “God grant you happiness with her.” ! In addition, now her friendship is with the hero forever.

And finally the fourth night. The girl finally felt abandoned “inhumanly” and “cruelly.” The dreamer again offers help: go to the offender and force him to “respect” Nastenka’s feelings. However, pride awakens in her: she no longer loves the deceiver and will try to forget him. The “barbaric” act of the tenant sets off the moral beauty of the friend sitting next to him: “You wouldn’t do that? Wouldn’t you throw someone who would come to you on her own into the eyes of shameless mockery of her weak, stupid heart?” The dreamer no longer has the right to hide the truth that the girl has already guessed: “I love you, Nastenka!” He doesn’t want to “torment” her with his “selfishness” in a bitter moment, but what if his love turns out to be necessary? And indeed, the answer is: “I don’t love him, because I can only love what is generous, what understands me, what is noble...” If the Dreamer waits until the previous feelings completely subside, then the girl’s gratitude and love will go to him alone. Young people joyfully dream of a future together. At the moment of their farewell, the groom suddenly appears. Screaming and trembling, Nastenka breaks free from the hero’s hands and rushes towards him. Already, it would seem, the hope for happiness, for genuine life, that is coming true leaves the Dreamer. He silently looks after the lovers.

The next morning, the hero receives a letter from the happy girl asking for forgiveness for the involuntary deception and with gratitude for his love, which “cured” her “broken heart.” One of these days she is getting married. But her feelings are contradictory: “Oh God! If only I could love you both at once!” And yet the Dreamer must remain “eternally a friend, brother...”. Again he is alone in a suddenly “old” room. But even fifteen years later, he fondly remembers his short-lived love: “may you be blessed for the minute of bliss and happiness that you gave to another, lonely, grateful heart! A whole minute of bliss! Is this really not enough for even a person’s entire life?..”

Option 1

Sentimental novel
(From the memory of a dreamer)
NIGHT ONE
The hero of the story, the Dreamer (we never learn his name), has been living in St. Petersburg for eight years, but has not been able to make a single acquaintance. He is 26 years old. It’s summer, everyone has gone to their dachas. The dreamer wanders around the city and feels abandoned, not meeting the people he is used to seeing every day. Unnoticed, he finds himself at the city outpost and walks further among the fields and meadows, feeling spiritual relief. Nature struck him, a half-sick city dweller. St. Petersburg nature in the spring reminds the hero of a stunted and sick girl, who for a moment suddenly becomes inexplicably beautiful. Returning home happy late in the evening, the Dreamer notices a woman - she is standing, leaning over the parapet of the canal, and crying. The girl quickly leaves. The hero follows her, not daring to approach. A girl is accosted by a drunk, and the Dreamer rushes to her aid. Then they walk together. The dreamer is delighted with the unexpected meeting and tells the girl that tomorrow evening he will come to the canal again and will be waiting for her. The girl agrees to come, but warns Dreamer not to think that she is making a date with him. She playfully warns him not to fall in love with her, she is only ready to be friends with him. They will meet tomorrow. The hero is happy.
NIGHT TWO
They meet. The girl asks the Dreamer to tell about himself. She herself lives with her blind grandmother, who two years ago began pinning it to her dress. They sit like this all day: the grandmother knits blindly, and the granddaughter reads a book to her. This has been going on for two years now. The girl asks the young man to tell his story. He tells her that he is a dreamer. There are such types in the hidden corners of St. Petersburg. When communicating with people, they get lost, embarrassed, don’t know what to talk about, but alone such a person is happy, he lives “his own special” life, he is immersed in dreams. What he just can’t imagine - friendship with Hoffmann, St. Bartholomew’s Night, the battle of Berezina and much, much more. The dreamer is afraid that Nastenka (that, it turns out, is the girl’s name) will laugh at him, but she only asks him with timid sympathy: “Have you really lived your whole life like this?” In her opinion, you can’t live like that. The hero agrees with her. He thanks Nastenka for giving him two evenings of real life. Nastenka promises him that she will not leave him. She tells her story. Nastenka is an orphan; her parents died when she was very young. Grandmother used to be rich. She taught her granddaughter French and hired her a teacher. Since she was fifteen, her grandmother has been “pinning” her. Grandma has her own house, and she rents out the mezzanine to tenants. And now they have a young tenant. He gives grandmother and Nastenka novels by Walter Scott and works by Pushkin, and invites Nastenka and her grandmother to the theater. Nastenka is in love with a young tenant, and he begins to avoid her. And then one day the tenant tells his grandmother that he must leave for Moscow for a year. Nastenka, shocked by this news, decides to go with him. She goes up to the young man's room. He tells her that he is poor and cannot get married now, but when he returns from Moscow, they will get married. Exactly a year has passed, Nastenka found out that he arrived three days ago, but still does not come to her. The dreamer invites the girl to write him a letter, and he will deliver it. Nastenka agrees. It turns out that the letter has already been written, all that remains is to take it to such and such an address. NIGHT THREE The Dreamer remembers his third date with Nastenka. He now knows that the girl does not love him. He carried the letter. Nastenka arrived ahead of time, she is waiting for her beloved, she is sure that he will come. She is glad that Dreamer did not fall in love with her. The hero is sad at heart. Time passes, but the Tenant is still missing. Nastenka is hysterically excited. She tells Dreamer, “You are so kind. .. I compared you both. Why is he not you? Why is he not like you? He is worse than you, although I love him more than you.” The Dreamer calms Nastenka, assures her that the one she is waiting for will come tomorrow. He promises to go see him again. NIGHT FOUR Nastenka thought that the Dreamer would bring her a letter, but he was sure that the Tenant had already come to the girl. But there is neither the letter nor the Tenant himself. Nastenka, in despair, says that she will forget him. The dreamer declares his love to her. He would so much like Nastenka to love him. He cries, Nastenka consoles him. She tells him that her love was a deception of feelings and imagination, that she is ready to marry the Dreamer, and invites him to move into her grandmother’s mezzanine. They will both work and be happy. It's time for Nastenka to go home. And then the Tenant appears. Nastenka rushes to him. Dreamer watches them both leave. MORNING The Dreamer receives a letter from Nastenka. She asks him for forgiveness, thanks him for his love, calls him her friend and brother. No, the Dreamer is not offended by Nastenka. He wishes her happiness. He had a whole minute of bliss... “Isn’t this enough even for a person’s entire life? ..”

Option 2

Returning home at ten in the evening, the hero sees a female figure at the canal grate and hears sobbing. Sympathy prompts him to make an acquaintance, but the girl timidly runs away. A drunk man tries to pester her, and only a “bough stick”, which ends up in the hero’s hand, saves the pretty stranger. They talk to each other. The young man admits that before he knew only “housewives,” but he never spoke to “women” and therefore is very timid. This calms down the fellow traveler. She listens to the story about the “romances” that the guide created in his dreams, about falling in love with ideal fictional images, about the hope of someday meeting in reality a girl worthy of love. But now she’s almost home and wants to say goodbye. The dreamer begs for a new meeting. The girl “needs to be here for herself,” and she does not mind the presence of a new acquaintance tomorrow at the same hour in the same place. Her condition is “friendship”, “but you can’t fall in love.” Like the Dreamer, she needs someone to trust, someone to ask for advice.

And here is her confession. She is an orphan. Lives with an old blind grandmother in a small house of her own. She studied with a teacher until she was fifteen, and for the last two years she has been sitting, “pinned” with a pin to her grandmother’s dress, who otherwise cannot keep track of her. A year ago they had a tenant, a young man of “pleasant appearance.” He gave his young mistress books by V. Scott, Pushkin and other authors. He invited them and their grandmother to the theater. The opera “The Barber of Seville” was especially memorable. When he announced that he was leaving, the poor recluse decided on a desperate act: she gathered her things in a bundle, came to the tenant’s room, sat down and “cryed in three streams.” Fortunately, he understood everything, and most importantly, he managed to fall in love with Nastenka. But he was poor and without a “decent place”, and therefore could not get married right away. They agreed that exactly a year later, having returned from Moscow, where he hoped to “arrange his affairs,” the young man would wait for his bride on a bench near the canal at ten o’clock in the evening. A year has passed. He has been in St. Petersburg for three days already. He is not at the appointed place... Now the hero understands the reason for the girl’s tears on the evening of their acquaintance. Trying to help, he volunteers to deliver her letter to the groom, which he does the next day.

Because of the rain, the third meeting of the heroes occurs only through the night. Nastenka is afraid that the groom will not come again, and cannot hide her excitement from her friend. She dreams feverishly about the future. The hero is sad because he himself loves the girl. And yet the Dreamer has enough selflessness to console and reassure the despondent Nastenka. Touched, the girl compares the groom with a new friend: “Why is he not you?.. He is worse than you, even though I love him more than you.” And he continues to dream: “Why aren’t we all like brothers and brothers? Why does the best person always seem to hide something from another and remain silent from him? everyone looks as if he is harsher than he really is...” Gratefully accepting the Dreamer’s sacrifice, Nastenka also shows concern for him: “you are getting better,” “you will fall in love...” “God grant you happiness with her ! In addition, now her friendship is with the hero forever.

"White Nights". Brief summary of the work

First night

The hero of the story is called the Dreamer, but we never learn his real name. He has been living in the city on the Neva for about 8 years, but is still single. A dreamer is a young, educated person with a very romantic state of mind. Wandering around the city one spring night, he accidentally meets a girl bending over the water and crying. Noticing him, she quickly leaves her place, and Dreamer continues to follow her. A summary of “White Nights” will allow you to plunge into the mysterious atmosphere of the work.

Following the girl, the Dreamer begins to rejoice at the approaching acquaintance. He saves her from a drunk man and makes an appointment. For some reason she warns him not to fall in love with her.

Second night

The next day comes. The young man is waiting for the approaching date, and now they are already walking along the alleys, and the Dreamer tells her about himself. Nastenka, that’s the girl’s name, is amazed by his story. She believes that it is impossible to live alone and promises that she will not leave him.

Later, from her story, he learns that a blind grandmother lives with her. One day a young tenant settled in the house of Nastenka and her grandmother. He got them interesting novels by Voltaire and Pushkin, and invited the girl to the theater. And she understood that she was in love, but the tenant began to avoid her and went to Moscow for a year.

It turns out that exactly a year has passed, and the beloved has already been in the city for several days. The dreamer offers to take the letter to the specified address.

Third night

The letter has been sent to the addressee. Nastenka arrived much earlier than the appointed time for the meeting, she waited until the last moment, but the young man never came. The girl is confused. She says to Dreamer, "Why isn't he like you?" He reassures the young girl in love and promises to visit this man again. White nights (a summary of the story of the same name is presented above) continue to give happiness to our hero.

Fourth night

Nastenka is again waiting for her tenant, but he is still not there. Having lost all hope, the girl begins to cry. Here the Dreamer confesses his love to her, and she agrees to marriage. The time of parting comes and a young man unexpectedly appears. Our hero watches as they both walk away, happy...

In the morning he receives a letter in which he sees a familiar handwriting. The girl asks him for forgiveness, but he does not hold a grudge against her and wishes her great happiness.

The story "White Nights", a brief summary of which helps to learn the features of the plot, was written in a romantic style. The mysterious image of St. Petersburg could not help but bring two people disillusioned with life together, but the white nights end and people run away.