“Analysis of Nekrasov’s poem “The Poet and the Citizen. Analysis of the poem Poet and Citizen (Nekrasov N

Answer from Sweet[guru]
The poet and the citizen is the most vivid, clear and definite expression of Nekrasov's civic position, his understanding of the goals and objectives of poetry ... The poem is a dialogue between the Poet and the Citizen, from which it becomes clear that the Citizen sensitively captures the changes taking place in society.
What time has come, he says with enthusiasm. The citizen believes that it is the duty of everyone to society not to be indifferent to the fate of their homeland. Moreover, this is the duty of the poet, whom nature and fate have awarded with talent and who must help discover the truth, kindle the hearts of people, lead them on the path of truth.
Destroy the vices boldly, calls the Citizen of the Poet.
He tries to awaken the indifferently sleeping soul of the Poet, who explains his social passivity by the desire to create real, eternal art, far from the burning issues of our time.
Here Nekrasov deals with a very important problem generated by the new era. This is the problem of opposing socially significant poetry to pure art. The dispute between the heroes of the poem is ideological, the dispute about the life position of the poet, but it is perceived more broadly: not only the poet, but any citizen, person in general. A true citizen, like his own, wears on his body all the ulcers of his homeland. The poet should be ashamed
...in a time of grief
The beauty of valleys, skies and seas
And sing sweet affection.
Nekrasov's lines became an aphorism:
You may not be a poet
But you have to be a citizen.
Since then, every true artist compares the true value of his work by them. The role of the poet-citizen especially increases during periods of great social storms and social upheavals. Let's look at today. With what passion, despair and hope, with what fury our writers and poets, artists and artists rushed to fight obsolete dogmas for the creation of a renewed, humane society! And even though their views are sometimes diametrically opposed and one cannot agree with everyone, the attempt itself is noble, albeit with difficulty, making mistakes and stumbling, to find the right way to move forward. For them, the dignity of a citizen is as high as in the Lomonosov, Pushkin and Nekrasov times.
Nekrasov called Elegy the most sincere and beloved one of his last poems. In it, the poet reflects with deep bitterness on the causes of disharmony in society. A life has been lived, a wise, philosophical understanding of being has come to Nekrasov.
But the disenfranchised position of the people, their life, the relationship between the poet and the people still worries the author.
Let the changing fashion tell us
What is the theme of the old misery of the people
And that poetry must forget it,
Don't believe me guys!
She doesn't age
he claims.
Answering all those who hesitated and doubted that poetry could somehow seriously affect people's lives, he wrote:
Let not every warrior harm the enemy,
But everyone go to battle! And the battle will be decided by fate. .
And Nekrasov, until the last moments of his difficult life, remained a warrior, striking at the tsarist autocracy with every line of his works.
Nekrasov's muse, so sensitively responding to someone else's pain and someone else's joy, has not laid down her poetic weapons even today, she is at the forefront of the struggle for a free, happy, spiritually rich person.

Composition

In a poem by N.A. Nekrasov's "The Poet and the Citizen" has a strong dramatic beginning. It is a dialogue between a poet and a citizen. Moreover, N.A. Nekrasov includes remarks in the text of the work (“enters”, “takes a book”, “reads”, “with delight”). The poem was written for the purpose of controversy between the champion of civil poetry and the supporters of the so-called pure art. A citizen who came to the poet urges him to wake up and smash the vices boldly. The poet sings of sweetness: "Not for worldly excitement, Not for self-interest, not for battles, We were born for inspiration, For sweet sounds and prayers."

The citizen does not share the poet's enthusiasm and declares: “It is a shame to sleep with your talent; Even more ashamed in the hour of grief The beauty of the valleys, the skies and the sea And the sweet caress to sing ... ". A citizen paints a figurative picture of a ship floating on the water for the poet. While “the storm is silent” and “the evening is affectionate and sleepy”, this picture pleases the eye. And when a storm comes, it's not the time to indulge in idle pleasures. In the course of the dispute, it turns out that if the poet talks about nonsense, then in the end the citizen remains speechless, because the voice of the poet is precisely the voice of society. The poet in the poem is called "the chosen one of heaven", "the herald of the truths of the ages." At the end of the poem, the image of the Muse arises, whose gloomy beauty goes with a crown of thorns.
The content of the work echoes the works of V.G. Belinsky and N.G. Chernyshevsky about citizenship and nationality of art. It also contains a reference to Pushkin's poem "The Poet and the Crowd" ("Not for worldly excitement ..."). And also an arrangement ... of a line from a poem by K.F. Ryleeva "Voynarovsky": "I'm not a poet, but a citizen": "You may not be a poet. But you have to be a citizen."

The history of the creation of the poem is interesting. Originally N.A. Nekrasov published several stanzas in No. 6 of Sovremennik for 1855 with the title "To the Russian Writer". Then, in No. 3 of Sovremennik for 1856, several more stanzas were printed. The final version was published as a preface to the collection Poems (1856). In all subsequent editions, its text was printed with censorship distortions.

C iv i n i n (included)

Alone again, harsh again
Lies - and does not write anything.

Add: moping and barely breathing -
And my portrait will be ready.

C iv i n i n

Good portrait! No nobility
There is no beauty in it, believe me,
It's just plain stupidity.
A wild beast can lie down...

So what?

C iv i n i n
Yes, it's embarrassing to look at.
Well, then go away.

C iv i n i n
Listen: shame on you!
It's time to get up! You know yourself
What time has come;
In whom the sense of duty has not cooled down,
Who has an incorruptible heart,
In whom is talent, strength, accuracy,
Tom shouldn't sleep now...

Let's say I'm such a rarity
But first you have to give.

C iv i n i n

Here's the news! You're dealing
You just fell asleep for a while
Wake up: smash the vices boldly ...

A! I know: “Look, where did you throw it!”
But I'm a shelled bird.
Too bad I don't feel like talking.

(Picks up book.)

Savior Pushkin! - Here is the page:
Read and stop complaining!

C iv i n i n (is reading)

"Not for worldly excitement,
Not for self-interest, not for battles,
We are born to inspire
For sweet sounds and prayers.

P o e t (with delight)

Incredible sounds!
Whenever with my Muse
I was a little smarter
I swear I wouldn't pick up a pen!

C iv i n i n

Yes, the sounds are wonderful ... hooray!
Their power is so amazing
That even sleepy blues
Jumped from the soul of the poet.
I rejoice sincerely - it's time!
And I share your enthusiasm
But, I confess, your poems
I take it to heart.

Don't talk nonsense!
You are a zealous reader, but a wild critic.
So you think I'm great
Is a poet taller than Pushkin?
Say please?!.

C iv i n i n
Oh no!
Your poems are stupid
Your elegies are not new
Satyrs are alien to beauty,
Disgraceful and offensive
Your verse is poignant. You are noticeable
But without the sun, the stars are visible.
In the night that is now
We live fearfully
When the beast roams free
And the man wanders timidly, -
You firmly held your light,
But the sky didn't like it
So that he blazed under the storm,
Illuminating the way nationwide;
Trembling spark in the dark
He was a little on fire, blinking, rushing about.
Pray that he waits for the sun
And drowned in its rays!

No, you are not Pushkin. But as long as
The sun is nowhere to be seen
It's a shame to sleep with your talent;
Even more ashamed in the hour of grief
The beauty of valleys, skies and seas
And sing sweet affection ...

The storm is silent, with a bottomless wave
The heavens argue in the radiance,
And the wind is gentle and sleepy
Barely shakes the sails, -
The ship runs beautifully, harmoniously,
And the heart of travelers is calm,
As if instead of a ship
Below them is solid ground.
But the thunder struck; the storm is moaning
And the tackle is tearing, and the mast is tilting, -
No time to play chess
It's not time to sing songs!
Here is a dog - and he knows the danger
And barks furiously into the wind:
He has nothing else to do...
What would you do, poet?
Is it in a cabin remote
You would become a lyre inspired
Delight sloths ears
And drown out the roar of the storm?

May you be faithful to the appointment
But is it easier for your homeland,
Where everyone is devoted to worship
Your single personality?
In front of good hearts,
To whom the homeland is holy.
God help them!.. And the rest?
Their goal is small, their life is empty.
Some are money-grubbers and thieves,
Others are sweet singers
And the third ... the third - the wise men:
Their purpose is conversation.
Protecting your person
They do nothing, saying:
"Our tribe is incorrigible,
We don't want to die for nothing
We are waiting: maybe time will help,
And we are proud that we do not harm!
Cunningly hides the haughty mind
Selfish dreams
But... my brother! whoever you are
Do not believe this despicable logic!
Be afraid to share their fate,
Rich in word, poor in deed,
And do not go into the camp of the harmless,
When can you be useful?
The son cannot look calmly
On the mother's mountain,
There will be no worthy citizen
To the fatherland is cold in soul,
He has no bitterer reproach ...
Go into the fire for the honor of the fatherland,
For faith, for love...
Go and die flawlessly.
You won't die in vain, it's solid,
When blood flows under him ...

And you, the poet! heaven's chosen one,
Herald of the truths of the ages,
Do not believe that he who does not have bread
Not worth your prophetic strings!
Do not believe that people have fallen at all;
God did not die in the soul of people,
And a cry from a believing chest
She will always be available!
Be a citizen! serving the art
Live for the good of your neighbor
Subordinating your genius to feeling
All-embracing Love;
And if you are rich in gifts,
Do not bother to expose them:
In your work they will shine themselves
Their life-giving rays.
Take a look: in the fragments of a hard stone
The wretched worker crushes,
And flies from under the hammer
And the flame splatters by itself!

Have you finished? .. I almost fell asleep.
Where are we to such views!
You've gone too far.
It takes a genius to teach others
It takes a strong soul
And we, with our lazy soul,
Selfish and shy
We are not worth a penny.
Rushing to fame
We are afraid to go astray
And we walk along the thorny path,
And if we turn to the side -
Gone, even run from the world!
Where are you sorry, the role of the poet!
Blessed is the silent citizen:
He, alien to the Muses from the cradle,
Lord of his deeds
Leads them to a noble goal,
And his work is successful, dispute ...

C iv i n i n

Not a very flattering sentence.
But is it yours? did you say?
You could better judge
You may not be a poet
But you have to be a citizen.
What is a citizen?
Fatherland worthy son.
Oh! will be with us merchants, cadets,
Philistines, officials, nobles,
Enough even for us poets,
But we need, we need citizens!
But where are they? Who is not a senator
Not a writer, not a hero,
Not a leader
Who is a citizen of his native country?
Where are you? respond? No answer.
And even alien to the poet's soul
His mighty ideal!
But if there is one between us,
With what tears he cries!!.
A heavy lot fell to him,
But he does not ask for a better share:
He, like his own, wears on his body
All the ulcers of their homeland.
… … … … …
… … … … …
The storm roars and drives to the abyss
Freedom is a shaky boat,
The poet curses or at least groans,
And the citizen is silent and tends
Under the yoke of his head.
When ... But I am silent. Though a little
And among us fate showed
Worthy citizens... You know
Their fate?.. Kneel down!..
Lazy person! your dreams are funny
And frivolous penalties - complaints.
Your comparison makes no sense.
Here is the word of impartial truth:
Blessed is the chattering poet,
And what a pitiful citizen the voiceless!

It's not smart to get it
Who doesn't need to be beaten.
You're right: it's easier for a poet to live -
There is joy in free speech.
But was I involved in it?
Ah, in my youth,
Sad, disinterested, difficult,
In short - very reckless,
Where was my Pegasus zealous!
Not roses - I wove nettles
In his sweeping mane
And proudly left Parnassus.
No disgust, no fear
I went to prison and to the place of execution,
I went to courts and hospitals.
I will not repeat what I saw there ...
I swear I honestly hated it!
I swear I truly loved!
And what? .. hearing my sounds,
They considered them black slander;
I had to fold my hands
Or pay with your head ...
What was to be done? recklessly
Blame people, blame fate.
Whenever I see a fight
I would fight, no matter how hard
But... perish, perish... and when?
I was twenty years old then!
Cunningly life beckoned forward,
Like free streams of the sea,
And affectionately promised love
I have my best blessings -
The soul retreated fearfully ...
But no matter how many reasons
I do not hide the bitter truth
And timidly bow my head
At the word "honest citizen".
That fatal, vain flame
Until now, it burns the chest,
And I'm glad if someone
He will throw a stone at me with contempt.
Poor man! and what did you get out of
Are you the duty of a sacred man?
What a tribute from life took
Are you the son of a sick sick century? ..
When you know my life
My love, my anxiety...
Gloomy and full of bitterness,
I'm standing at the door of the coffin...

Oh! my farewell song
That song was the first!
Muse bowed her sad face
And, quietly sobbing, she left.
Since then, meetings have not been frequent:
Furtively, pale, will come
And whispers fiery words,
And he sings proud songs.
He calls either to the cities, or to the steppe,
Full of cherished intent
But the chains will suddenly rattle -
And she disappears instantly.
I didn't completely shy away from her.
But how afraid! how afraid!
When my neighbor drowned
In the waves of essential grief -
Either the thunder of heaven, or the fury of the sea
I sang good-naturedly.
Scourge of little thieves
For the pleasure of the big ones,
I divil the audacity of the boys
And he was proud of their praise.
Under the yoke of years the soul bent,
She cooled down to everything
And the Muse completely turned away,
Full of bitter contempt.
Now in vain I call to her -
Alas! Hidden forever.
Like a light, I don't know her myself
And I will never know.
Oh Muse, a random guest
Have you been to my soul?
Ile song is an extraordinary gift
Did fate destined her?
Alas! who knows? rock harsh
He hid everything in deep darkness.
But there was one wreath of thorns
To your gloomy beauty...

Analysis of Nekrasov's poem "The Poet and the Citizen"

It is no secret that Nikolai Nekrasov was rather ironic about his work, believing that the muse, whoever she was, clearly cheated him of the talent that Pushkin undoubtedly possessed. In the works of this poet, Nekrasov saw the grace and beauty of the style, directness of thoughts and subtle irony. Moreover, the heyday of Pushkin's work came in the first half of the 19th century and coincided with many significant events, one of which was the Decembrist uprising. By that time, Nekrasov was only 4 years old, and the future poet was not yet aware of the simple fact that the attempt to overthrow the autocracy, undertaken not by the peasants, but by the best representatives of the nobility, helped Pushkin to clearly articulate the vocation of the poet.

By the time Nekrasov became a fairly well-known writer, the social significance of poetry had lost its former sharpness and relevance. Poems again, as in the time of Zhukovsky, became secular fun, designed to delight the ears of educated people. Trying to change this idea of poetry, Nekrasov in 1855 created one of his most significant works called "The Poet and the Citizen".

This poem is built on a dialogue between two people, one of whom is a writer and, apparently, personifies Nekrasov himself, and the other is an ordinary citizen of his country, moderately well-read and educated. Their meeting begins with reproaches from the citizen, who calls on the poet to remember his destiny and turn to face his own people, who need his support. Meanwhile, the poet is not in the best state of mind, he "mopes and barely breathes." The reason for such an obvious degradation is obvious: the writer not only lost faith in his work, but also believes that society has absolutely no benefit from it.

The controversy between the citizen and the poet about the fact that the same Pushkin openly declared what exactly a person should be who took the liberty of creating poetry reveals the unexpected features and qualities of Nekrasov. Perhaps for the first time, the author tries not only to be ironic about his works, but also admits that, so revered in society, is, in fact, a waste of time for a person who is able to form public opinion with his works, But is Nekrasov such a poet??

The answer to this question is given by the controversy between the citizen and the poet, during which the author admits that he cannot rank himself among the great figures of Russian literature, if only because Russia already has such pillars of poetry as Pushkin and Lermontov. To which the citizen objected to him quite convincingly, noting that “no, you are not Pushkin. But as long as the sun is not visible from anywhere, it is a shame to sleep with your talent. This phrase can be interpreted in two ways. However, in relation to Nekrasov, it only means that, against the backdrop of romantic and touching literary opuses of other authors, his works, which have a social background and reveal the ulcers of modern society, are like an exploding bomb.

The apotheosis of this work is considered to be the phrase “you may not be a poet, but you must be a citizen”, which has become winged. This is a kind of result of the discussion between the poet and the citizen, who clearly dots the “i”, showing that no matter what a person does in his life, the interests of society should not be alien to him. And if each of the people managed to realize this, then the world would become much cleaner and better. And, perhaps, then poetry would have had a completely different purpose, which was characteristic of it in the time of Pushkin, and could “burn the hearts of people with a verb.”

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AnalysispoemsNekrasov"PoetAndcitizen"

poem by Nekrasov poet citizen

Thispoembuiltondialoguetwoof people, onefromwhichiswriterAnd, apparently, personifiesmostNekrasov, and the other - an ordinary citizen of his country, moderately well-read and educated. Their meeting begins with reproaches from the citizen, who calls on the poet to remember his destiny and turn to face his own people, who need his support. Meanwhile, the poet is not in the best state of mind, he "mopes and barely breathes." The reason for such an obvious degradation is obvious: the writer not only lost faith in his work, but also believes that society has absolutely no benefit from it.

The controversy between the citizen and the poet about the fact that the same Pushkin openly declared what exactly a person should be who took the liberty of creating poetry reveals the unexpected features and qualities of Nekrasov. Perhaps for the first time, the author tries not only to be ironic about his works, but also admits that love lyrics, so revered in society, are, in fact, a waste of time for a person who is able to shape public opinion with his works, HereonlyiswhetherNekrasovsopoet?

apotheosisthisworksBylawcountsphrase"poetcanYouNotbe, Butcitizenbemust", which became winged. This is a kind of outcome of the discussion between the poet and the citizen, who clearly dots the i's, showing that no matter what a person does in his life, the interests of society should not be alien to him. And if each of the people managed to realize this, then the world would become much cleaner and better. And, perhaps, then poetry would have had a completely different purpose, which was characteristic of it in the time of Pushkin, and could “burn the hearts of people with a verb.”

History of creation An analysis of the poem "The Poet and the Citizen", like any other work of art, should begin with a study of the history of its creation, with the socio-political situation that was developing in the country at that time, and the biographical data of the author, if they are somehow connected with the work. Date of writing the text - 1855 - June 1856. It was first published in the author's collection, published in the same 56th. Prior to this, Chernyshevsky announced Nekrasov's book by publishing in the next issue of Sovremennik a small review-analysis of the poem "The Poet and the Citizen" and its text, as well as several more bright and biting works in Nekrasov's way, including the bitter satire "The Forgotten Village" . The publications caused a great resonance in society and sharp dissatisfaction with the authorities and official criticism. In The Poet and the Citizen, the autocratic government saw (quite rightly, by the way) harsh criticism of itself and subversive, revolutionary appeals. The entire issue of Sovremennik, as well as the edition of the book, were withdrawn from free access and prohibited from reprinting. The magazine itself was threatened with closure. And Nekrasov, who was abroad at that time, was threatened with arrest upon his return. Why was the reaction of the authorities and censorship so violent?

The theme and idea of the poem Nekrasov never divided his poetry into purely lyrical, intimate, and civil. These two directions, seemingly completely different, harmoniously combined in his work into one common stream. “The Poet and the Citizen” (an analysis of the poem proves this statement) is a program work in the sense that it reveals the most important concepts for the author, touches on burning issues. Nekrasov clearly and openly expressed his creative and socio-political credo: it doesn’t matter who you are by profession and beliefs. It is important that you are the son of your country, which means that you are a citizen who is obliged to fight for it, for a better life, prosperity, both economic and spiritual. Unfortunately, very few people agree with him. Therefore, the Citizen exclaims with bitterness: "There are many good hearts / To whom the homeland is holy." In the "time of grief and sorrow" talented, honest, educated people have no right to sit on the sidelines, sing of the "beauties of nature" and "sweet kindness." Artists, especially writers, are endowed with a special gift - to influence the minds and hearts of people, to lead them along - to a feat. To fulfill one's duty, to give oneself to the service of the Motherland and the people - Nekrasov sees this as the purpose of the creative personality. “The Poet and the Citizen,” which we are analyzing, is a manifesto-poem, an appeal-poem that openly calls on all fellow writers to take the side of the people: “There will be no worthy citizen / He is cold in soul to his homeland / There is no bitterer reproach for him ... " . If you hug a tree, then ... Films that women should definitely watch Why we can fall in love: 12 strange reasons Composition of the work and stylistic features So, the theme of the poem is the poet and poetry, their role in the socio-political movement of the country. The main idea and main idea are expressed in the following lines: “Be a citizen…/ Live for the good of your neighbor…”. In order to express it more clearly and more understandably, more vividly to convey to readers, Nekrasov chooses an original form for a lyrical work - a dramatized dialogue, an ideological dispute. The replicas of the heroes are interspersed with passionate monologues of the Citizen, full of rhetorical appeals and exclamations, making his speeches extremely emotional. At the same time, the Poet conducts his own internal dialogue. A large number of imperative verbs, socio-political vocabulary, invocative intonations create in readers the very active and effective mood that Nekrasov is striving for. "The Poet and the Citizen" is a poem with which he fully managed to prove to the masters of the word that their task is not "fine literature" and delighting the ears of its lovers, not idle talk, but serving the people. The work in question has not lost its relevance even today.

The well-known literary critic B. Eikhenbaum said: “... Among the various contradictions accumulated by Russian life and culture of the last century, there is one, the most painful, preserved until the revolution: the contradiction between “civil” and “pure” poetry, between a poet-citizen and a poet -priest." Lyrica N.A. Nekrasov became the new force that sang patriotism and love for the native people. He rethinks the purpose of the poet and poetry. Nekrasov departs from the traditions in Russian poetry and develops his own attitude towards creativity and art. In 1856, he wrote the poem "The Poet and the Citizen", where Nekrasov argues the need to give creativity a civil content. The poem is a dialogue between a poet and a citizen, who have completely different understandings of the meaning of life, homeland, homeland.

A citizen cannot understand the apathy and indifference of the poet to what is happening around, because now it is simply impossible and impossible to be indifferent to life: In whom the sense of duty has not cooled down, Who has an incorruptible straight heart, In whom talent, strength, accuracy, Tom should not now sleep... To be a part of society is the main task of every person. Before Nekrasov, it was believed that poetry is a way of expressing feelings, and prose is an expression of thoughts. Nekrasov looked at it from the other side: "From the harmonious combination of prose with poetry, real poetry comes out." This process is observed in his lyrics. The poet believes that love for the motherland should be manifested not so much in feelings as in real actions, since inaction cannot make Russia better: Let you be faithful to your destination, But is it easier for your homeland, Where everyone is devoted to worship

Your single personality? One can count those who truly sincerely love their native land. The rest are the townsfolk who do not care about anything: There are many good hearts, To whom the homeland is holy. God help them!.. And the rest? Their goal is small, their life is empty. The role of the poet is enormous, for he is the "herald of the truths of the ages", he always strives for the truth and is not afraid to speak it. Here the citizen says the words that, in my opinion, are key:

You may not be a poet, but you must be a citizen. It is not surprising that these lines have become an aphorism. The poet is well aware that indifference is immoral and unworthy. He gives an explanation of such a life position and the reasons that made it so. The lyrical hero still remembers those days when he "honestly hated" and "sincerely loved." But so many ill-wishers and hatred appeared in his life that he had to reevaluate a lot. Those around him perceived his words, his desire for truth as a lie and slander. No, the lyrical hero does not blame either people or fate. Once he was young and between silence and death chose life. After all, he was only twenty years old, and "slyly life beckoned forward." Now the lyrical hero must suffer in silence from the fact that he once went astray from the path of truth and truth: If only they knew my life, My love, my worries ... Gloomy and full of anger, I stand at the door of the coffin

Thus, the author of the poem shows how society can affect the consciousness and worldview of a person, that it is society that makes us who we are: Under the yoke of years, the soul has bent, It has cooled down to everything, And the Muse has completely turned away, Full of bitter contempt. For the lyrical hero, all life was a prison, and he himself is a slave of reality. The poet is broken by fate, he was never able to resist the world and did not know true creativity. Now, looking back, the lyrical hero begins to understand that truth can only be achieved at the cost of suffering, opposition and extraordinary spiritual strength. Now he no longer knows whether his work is an accident or this fate was prepared for him: Alas! who knows? harsh rock Hid everything in deep darkness, But one wreath of thorns went To your gloomy beauty. Only now did the poet understand that life is suffering and that it was not worth deviating from his ideas.

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“Analysis of Nekrasov’s poem “The Poet and the Citizen. Analysis of the poem Poet and Citizen (Nekrasov N

Analysis of Nekrasov's poem "The Poet and the Citizen"

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