Motivational analysis of fairy tales from the collection “The House of Pomegranates” by Oscar Wilde. Children's fairy tales online Wilde the fisherman his soul summary

Annotation When the wind was onshore, the Fisherman did not catch anything or caught, but not much, because it is an evil wind, it has black wings, and violent waves rise to meet it. But when the wind was from the sea, the fish rose from the depths, swam into the net itself, and the Fisherman took it to the market and sold it there. ...

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Wilde Oscar

Fisherman and his soul

Oscar Wilde

FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL

Every evening a young fisherman went out to fish and cast nets into the sea.

When the wind was onshore, the Fisherman did not catch anything or caught, but not much, because it is an evil wind, it has black wings, and violent waves rise to meet it. But when the wind was from the sea, the fish rose from the depths, swam into the net itself, and the Fisherman took it to the market and sold it there.

Every evening the young Fisherman went out to fish, and then one day the net seemed so heavy to him that it was difficult to lift it into the boat. And Rybak, grinning, thought:

“Apparently, I caught all the fish from the sea, or, to the surprise of people, I came across some stupid miracle of the sea, or my net brought me such a monster that our great queen would want to see it.”

And, straining his strength, he leaned on the rough ropes, so that long veins, like threads of blue enamel on a bronze vase, appeared on his arms. He pulled the thin strings, and the flat plugs floated closer and closer to him in a large ring, and the net finally rose to the surface of the water.

But it was not a fish that ended up in the net, not a monster, not an underwater miracle, but a little Virgin of the Sea, who was fast asleep.

Her hair was like wet golden fleece, and each individual hair was like a thin thread of gold dipped into a crystal goblet. Her white body was like ivory, and her tail was pearly silver. Her tail was pearly silver, and green algae wrapped around it. Her ears were like shells, and her lips were like sea corals. Cold waves beat against her cold breasts, and salt sparkled on her eyelashes.

She was so beautiful that when he saw her, the young Fisherman, filled with admiration, pulled his net towards him and, leaning over the side of the shuttle, clasped her waist with his hands. But as soon as he touched her, she screamed like a frightened seagull, and woke up from her sleep, and looked at him with amethyst-lilac eyes in horror, and began to fight, trying to escape. But he did not let her go and hugged her tightly.

Seeing that she could not escape, the Virgin of the Sea began to cry.

Be merciful and let me go to sea, I am the only daughter of the Sea King, and my father is old and lonely. But the young Fisherman answered her:

I will not let you go until you give me a promise that at my first call you will rise to me from the depths and sing your songs for me: because the fish like the singing of the Dwellers of the sea, and my nets will always be full.

Will you really let me go if I give you such a promise? asked the Virgin of the Sea.

“Indeed, I will let you go,” answered the young Fisherman. And she gave him the promise that he desired, and reinforced her promise with the oath of the Dwellers of the Sea, and then the Fisherman opened his arms, and, still trembling with some strange fear, she sank to the bottom.

Every evening a young Fisherman went out to fish and called the Virgin of the Sea to him. And she rose from the waters and sang her songs to him.

Dolphins frolicked around her, and wild seagulls flew overhead.

And she sang wonderful songs. She sang about the Sea Dwellers, who drive their herds from cave to cave and carry their young on their shoulders; about Tritons, green-bearded, with a hairy chest, who blow twisted shells during the procession of the Sea King; about the royal amber palace - it has an emerald roof and floors made of clear pearls; about underwater gardens, where wide lace fans of coral sway all day long, and fish fly above them like silver birds; and anemones cling to the rocks, and pink minnows nest in the yellow grooves of the sand. She sang about huge whales sailing from the northern seas, with prickly icicles on their fins; about the Sirens, who tell such wonderful tales that merchants plug their ears with wax so as not to throw themselves into the water and die in the waves; about sunken galleys that have long masts, the sailors grabbed onto their rigging and became frozen forever, and mackerel swim into the open hatches and swim out freely; about small shells, great travelers: they stick to the keels of ships and travel around the whole world; about the cuttlefish that live on the slopes of the cliffs: she stretches out her long black arms, and if they want it, it will be night. She sang about the nautilus shellfish: it has its own opal boat, controlled by a silk sail; and about the happy Tritons who play the harp and with their spell can put the Great Octopus to sleep; and about the little children of the sea who catch a turtle and ride laughing on its slippery back; and about the Virgins of the Sea, who bask in the white foam and stretch out their hands to the sailors; and about walruses with crooked tusks, and about sea horses with flowing manes.

And while she sang, schools of tuna swam out of the depths of the sea to listen to her, and the young Fisherman caught them, surrounding them with his nets, and killed others with a spear. When did his shuttle fill up? The sea maiden, smiling at him, plunged into the sea.

And yet she avoided approaching him, lest he touch her. Often he begged her and called her, but she did not swim closer.

When he tried to grab her, she dived, like seals dive, and did not appear again that day. And every day her songs captivated him more and more. So sweet was her voice that the Fisherman forgot his canoe, his nets, and the prey no longer attracted him. Whole schools of golden-eyed tuna with scarlet fins swam past him, but he did not even notice them. The fort lay idly at his fingertips, and his baskets woven from willow twigs remained empty. With his lips half-opened and his eyes clouded with rapture, he sat motionless in the canoe, and listened, and listened, until the sea mists crept up on him and the wandering moon stained his tanned body with silver.

On one of these evenings he called her and said:

Little Virgin of the Sea, little Virgin of the Sea, I love you. Be my wife because I love you. But the Sea Maiden shook her head and answered:

You have a human soul! Drive your soul away and I can love you.

And the young Fisherman said to himself:

What do I need my soul for? I am not allowed to see her. I can't touch her. I don't know what she is like. Indeed, I will drive her away, and I will have great joy.

And he shouted with delight and, standing in his painted shuttle, stretched out his hands to the Virgin of the Sea.

“I will drive away my soul,” he shouted, “and you will be my young wife, and I will be your husband, and we will settle in the abyss, and you will show me everything you sang about, and I will do whatever you want, and our lives I will be inseparable forever.

And the Virgin of the Sea laughed with joy and covered her face with her hands.

But how can I drive away my soul? - shouted the young Fisherman. - Teach me how to do this, and I will do everything you say.

Alas! I do not know myself! - answered the Virgin of the Sea. - We, the Dwellers of the Sea, have never had a soul.

And, looking sadly at him, she plunged into the abyss.

x x x The next day, early in the morning, as soon as the sun rose above the hill to the height of a palm, the young Fisherman approached the Priest’s house and knocked on his door three times.

The novice looked through the bars of the window and, when he saw who had come, pulled back the bolt and said.

Every evening a young fisherman went out to fish and cast nets into the sea.

When the wind was onshore, the Fisherman did not catch anything or caught, but not much, because it is an evil wind, it has black wings, and violent waves rise to meet it. But when the wind was from the sea, the fish rose from the depths, swam into the net itself, and the Fisherman took it to the market and sold it there.

Every evening the young Fisherman went out to fish, and then one day the net seemed so heavy to him that it was difficult to lift it into the boat. And Rybak, grinning, thought:

“Apparently, I caught all the fish from the sea, or, to the surprise of people, I came across some stupid miracle of the sea, or my net brought me such a monster that our great queen would want to see it.”

And, straining his strength, he leaned on the rough ropes, so that long veins, like threads of blue enamel on a bronze vase, appeared on his arms. He pulled the thin strings, and the flat plugs floated closer and closer to him in a large ring, and the net finally rose to the surface of the water.

But it was not a fish that ended up in the net, not a monster, not an underwater miracle, but a little Virgin of the Sea, who was fast asleep.

Her hair was like wet golden fleece, and each individual hair was like a thin thread of gold dipped into a crystal goblet. Her white body was like ivory, and her tail was pearly silver. Her tail was pearly silver, and green algae wrapped around it. Her ears were like shells, and her lips were like sea corals. Cold waves beat against her cold breasts, and salt sparkled on her eyelashes.

She was so beautiful that when he saw her, the young Fisherman, filled with admiration, pulled his net towards him and, leaning over the side of the shuttle, clasped her waist with his hands. But as soon as he touched her, she screamed like a frightened seagull, and woke up from her sleep, and looked at him with amethyst-lilac eyes in horror, and began to fight, trying to escape. But he did not let her go and hugged her tightly.

Seeing that she could not escape, the Virgin of the Sea began to cry.

Be merciful and let me go to sea, I am the only daughter of the Sea King, and my father is old and lonely. But the young Fisherman answered her:

I will not let you go until you give me a promise that at my first call you will rise to me from the depths and sing your songs for me: because the fish like the singing of the Dwellers of the sea, and my nets will always be full.

Will you really let me go if I give you such a promise? asked the Virgin of the Sea.

“Indeed, I will let you go,” answered the young Fisherman. And she gave him the promise that he desired, and reinforced her promise with the oath of the Dwellers of the Sea, and then the Fisherman opened his arms, and, still trembling with some strange fear, she sank to the bottom.

Every evening a young Fisherman went out to fish and called the Virgin of the Sea to him. And she rose from the waters and sang her songs to him.

Dolphins frolicked around her, and wild seagulls flew overhead.

And she sang wonderful songs. She sang about the Sea Dwellers, who drive their herds from cave to cave and carry their young on their shoulders; about Tritons, green-bearded, with a hairy chest, who blow twisted shells during the procession of the Sea King; about the royal amber palace - it has an emerald roof and floors made of clear pearls; about underwater gardens, where wide lace fans of coral sway all day long, and fish fly above them like silver birds; and anemones cling to the rocks, and pink minnows nest in the yellow grooves of the sand. She sang about huge whales sailing from the northern seas, with prickly icicles on their fins; about the Sirens, who tell such wonderful tales that merchants plug their ears with wax so as not to throw themselves into the water and die in the waves; about sunken galleys that have long masts, the sailors grabbed onto their rigging and became frozen forever, and mackerel swim into the open hatches and swim out freely; about small shells, great travelers: they stick to the keels of ships and travel around the whole world; about the cuttlefish that live on the slopes of the cliffs: she stretches out her long black arms, and if they want it, it will be night. She sang about the nautilus shellfish: it has its own opal boat, controlled by a silk sail; and about the happy Tritons who play the harp and with their spell can put the Great Octopus to sleep; and about the little children of the sea who catch a turtle and ride laughing on its slippery back; and about the Virgins of the Sea, who bask in the white foam and stretch out their hands to the sailors; and about walruses with crooked tusks, and about sea horses with flowing manes.

And while she sang, schools of tuna swam out of the depths of the sea to listen to her, and the young Fisherman caught them, surrounding them with his nets, and killed others with a spear. When did his shuttle fill up? The sea maiden, smiling at him, plunged into the sea.

And yet she avoided approaching him, lest he touch her. Often he begged her and called her, but she did not swim closer.

When he tried to grab her, she dived, like seals dive, and did not appear again that day. And every day her songs captivated him more and more. So sweet was her voice that the Fisherman forgot his canoe, his nets, and the prey no longer attracted him. Whole schools of golden-eyed tuna with scarlet fins swam past him, but he did not even notice them. The fort lay idly at his fingertips, and his baskets woven from willow twigs remained empty. With his lips half-opened and his eyes clouded with rapture, he sat motionless in the canoe, and listened, and listened, until the sea mists crept up on him and the wandering moon stained his tanned body with silver.

On one of these evenings he called her and said:

Little Virgin of the Sea, little Virgin of the Sea, I love you. Be my wife because I love you. But the Sea Maiden shook her head and answered:

You have a human soul! Drive your soul away and I can love you.

And the young Fisherman said to himself:

What do I need my soul for? I am not allowed to see her. I can't touch her. I don't know what she is like. Indeed, I will drive her away, and I will have great joy.

And he shouted with delight and, standing in his painted shuttle, stretched out his hands to the Virgin of the Sea.

“I will drive away my soul,” he shouted, “and you will be my young wife, and I will be your husband, and we will settle in the abyss, and you will show me everything you sang about, and I will do whatever you want, and our lives I will be inseparable forever.

And the Virgin of the Sea laughed with joy and covered her face with her hands.

But how can I drive away my soul? - shouted the young Fisherman. - Teach me how to do this, and I will do everything you say.

Alas! I do not know myself! - answered the Virgin of the Sea. - We, the Dwellers of the Sea, have never had a soul.

And, looking sadly at him, she plunged into the abyss.

x x x The next day, early in the morning, as soon as the sun rose above the hill to the height of a palm, the young Fisherman approached the Priest’s house and knocked on his door three times.

The novice looked through the bars of the window and, when he saw who had come, pulled back the bolt and said:

And the young Fisherman came in and knelt on the fragrant Reeds that covered the floor, and turned to the Priest who was reading the Bible, and said to him loudly:

Father, I fell in love with the Virgin of the Sea, but my soul stood between me and her. Teach me how to get rid of my soul, for truly I do not need it. What do I need my soul for? I am not allowed to see her. I can't touch her. I don't know what she is like.

Woe! Woe to you, you have lost your mind. Or are you poisoned by poisonous herbs? The soul is the most sacred thing in man and was given to us by the Lord God so that we worthily own it. There is nothing more precious than the human soul, and no earthly blessings can compare with it. It is worth all the gold in the world, and more valuable than royal rubies. Therefore, my son, forget your thoughts, for this is an irredeemable sin. And the Dwellers of the Sea are cursed, and everyone who decides to communicate with them is cursed. They, like wild animals, do not know where is good and where is evil, and the Redeemer did not die for them.

After listening to the cruel word of the Priest, the young Fisherman burst into tears and, rising from his knees, said:

Father, Fauns live in the thicket of the forest - and are happy! and Tritons sit on the rocks with harps made of red gold. Let me be like them, I beg you! - for their life is like the life of flowers. What do I need my soul for if it comes between me and the one I love?

Carnal love is vile! - Frowning his eyebrows, the Priest exclaimed. “And those pagan creatures that God allowed to wander through his land are abominable and destructive.” Cursed be the Fauns of the forest, and cursed be these sea singers!

I myself heard them at night, they tried to seduce me and tear me away from my prayer beads. They knock on my window and laugh.; They whisper words into my ears about their disastrous joys. They tempt me with temptations, and when I want to pray, they make faces at me. They are lost, I tell you, and truly they will never be saved. For them there is neither heaven nor hell, and neither in heaven nor in hell will they be allowed to glorify the name of the Lord.

Father!” cried the young Fisherman. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I recently caught the Sea Princess in my net. She is more beautiful than the morning star, she is whiter than the moon. I would give my soul for her body and for her love I would give up eternal bliss in paradise. Reveal to me what I pray to you for, and let me go in peace.

Away! - shouted the Priest. “The one you love is rejected by God, and you will be rejected along with her.”

And he did not give him a blessing, and drove him away from his threshold. And the young Fisherman went to the market square, and his step was slow, and his head was lowered on his chest, like that of one who is sad.

And the merchants saw him and began to whisper among themselves, and one of them came out to meet him and, calling out to him, asked:

What did you bring to sell?

“I will sell you my soul,” answered the Fisherman. “Be kind, buy it, for it is a burden to me.” What is my soul for? I am not allowed to see her. I can't touch her. I don't know what she is like.

But the merchants laughed at him.

What do we need the human soul for? She's not worth a penny. Sell ​​us your body as a slave, and we will clothe you in purple and decorate your finger with a ring, and you will be the queen's favorite slave. But don’t talk about the soul, because for us it is nothing and has no value.

And the young Fisherman said to himself:

How amazing it all is! The priest convinces me that the soul is more valuable than all the gold in the world, but the merchants say that it is not worth a penny.

And he left the market place, and went down to the seashore, and began to think about what he should do.

By noon, he remembered that one of his comrades, a sea dill collector, had told him about a certain young Witch, skilled in witchcraft, who lived in a cave at the entrance to the bay. He immediately jumped up and started to run, so he wanted to get rid of his soul as quickly as possible, and a cloud of dust ran behind him along the sandy shore. The Young Witch learned of his approach because her palm itched, and she let down her red hair with laughter. And, having loosened her red hair, which surrounded her whole body, she stood at the entrance to the cave, and in her hand was a flowering branch of wild hemlock.

What do you want? What do you want? - she screamed when, exhausted from running, he climbed up and fell in front of her. “Don’t your nets need fish when the furious wind is raging?” I have a reed pipe, and as soon as I blow on it, the chubs swim into the bay. But it ain't cheap, my pretty boy, it ain't cheap. What do you want? What do you want? Don't you need a hurricane that would break ships and throw chests of rich goods ashore? I am subject to more hurricanes than the wind, for I serve one who is stronger than the wind, and with just a sieve and a bucket of water I can send the largest galleys into the abyss of the sea. But it ain't cheap, my pretty boy, it ain't cheap. What do you want? What do you want? I know a flower that grows in the valley. Nobody knows him, only me. It has purple petals, and a star in its heart, and its juice is milky white. Touch the queen’s unyielding lips with this flower, and she will follow you to the ends of the earth.

She will leave the king's bed and follow you to the ends of the earth. But it ain't cheap, my pretty boy, it ain't cheap. What do you want? What do you want? I can pound a toad in a mortar and make a wonderful potion from it, and stir it with the hand of a dead man. And when your enemy falls asleep, sprinkle this potion on him, and he will turn into a black echidna, and his own mother will crush him. With my wheel I can bring the Moon down from the sky and show you Death in crystal. What do you want? What do you want? Reveal to me your desire and I will fulfill it, and you will pay me, my pretty boy, you will pay me a red price.

“My desire is not great,” answered the young Fisherman, “but the Priest was angry with me and drove me away. I wish for little, but the merchants ridiculed me and rejected me. Then I came to you, even though people call you evil. And whatever price you ask, I will pay you.

What do you want? - the Witch asked and came closer to him.

Get rid of your soul, he said. The witch turned pale and began to tremble, and covered her face with a blue cloak.

“Pretty boy, my pretty boy,” she muttered, “you wanted something terrible!”

He shook his dark curls and laughed back.

I can do just fine without a soul. After all, I am not allowed to see her. I can't touch her. I don't know what she is like.

What will you give me if I teach you? - asked the Witch, looking down at him with her beautiful eyes.

I will give you five gold pieces, and my nets, and my painted shuttle, and the reed hut in which I live. Just tell me quickly how to get rid of my soul, and I will give you everything I have.

The witch laughed mockingly and hit him with a hemlock branch.

I can turn autumn leaves into gold, I can turn moon rays into silver. All earthly kings.richer. he whom I serve, and their kingdoms are subject to him.

What will I give you if you need neither gold nor silver?

The witch stroked his head with a thin and white hand.

“You must dance with me, my pretty boy,” she whispered quietly and smiled at him.

That's all? - exclaimed the young Fisherman in amazement and immediately jumped to his feet.

That’s all,” she answered and smiled at him again.

Then at sunset, somewhere in a secluded place, you and I will dance together,” he said, “and right now, as soon as the dancing is over, you will reveal to me what I long to know.”

She shook her head.

On the full moon, on the full moon,” she whispered. Then she looked around and listened. Some blue bird with a wild cry soared from its nest and circled over the dunes, and three motley birds rustled in the gray and coarse grass and began to whistle among themselves. And not a sound was heard anymore, only the waves splashed below, rolling smooth pebbles along the shore. The witch extended her hand and drew her guest to her and whispered into his ear with dry lips:

Tonight you must come to the top of the mountain. Today is the Sabbath, and He will be there.

The young Fisherman shuddered, looked at her, she bared her white teeth and laughed again.

Who is this He you are talking about? - Fisherman asked her.

Does it really matter? Come there tonight and stand under the branches of the white hornbeam and wait for me. If a black dog attacks you, hit him with a willow stick and he will run away from you. And if the owl says anything to you, do not answer him. On the full moon I will come to you, and we will dance together on the grass.

But can you swear to me that then you will teach me how to get rid of my soul?

She walked out of the cave into the sunlight, and her red hair streamed in the wind.

I swear to you by the hooves of a goat! - she answered.

You are the best witch! - cried the young Fisherman. - And, “of course, I will come and dance with you this night on the top of the mountain. Truly I would prefer that you ask me for silver or gold. But if this is your price, you will get it, for it is not great.

And, taking off his hat, he bowed low to the witch and, filled with great joy, ran along the road to the city.

And the Witch did not take her eyes off him, and when he was out of sight, she returned to the cave and, taking the mirror out of the carved cedar casket, put it on a stand and began to burn vervain on burning coals in front of the mirror and peer into the billowing smoke.

Then she clenched her hands in fury.

“He should be mine,” she whispered. “I’m as good as that one.”

As soon as the moon appeared, the young Fisherman climbed to the top of the mountain and stood under the branches of a hornbeam. Like a polished metal shield, the rounded sea lay at his feet, and the shadows of fishing boats glided in the distance across the bay. An owl, huge, with yellow eyes, called him by name, but he did not answer. A black snarling dog pounced on him; The fisherman hit him with a willow stick, and, yelping, the dog ran away.

By midnight, the witches began to flock in like bats.

Phew! - they shouted as soon as they descended to the ground. “There is someone else here, we don’t know him!”

And they sniffed the air, whispered and made some signs. The Young Witch was the last to appear here, and her red hair flowed in the wind. She wore a dress of gold brocade, embroidered with peacock eyes, and a small cap of green velvet.

They were both spinning like a whirlwind, and the Witch was jumping so high that he could see the red heels of her shoes. Suddenly the dancers heard the clatter of a horse, but the horse was nowhere to be seen, and the Fisherman felt fear.

“Faster!” the Witch shouted and, clasping his neck with her hands, breathed hotly into his face. “Faster!” “Faster!” she shouted, and it seemed as if the earth was spinning under his feet, his head was clouded, and great horror attacked him, as if under the gaze of some evil devil, and finally he noticed that someone was hiding under the shadow of the cliff who wasn't there before.

It was a man dressed in a velvet black Spanish suit. His face was strangely pale, but his lips were like a scarlet flower. He seemed tired and stood leaning against the cliff, casually playing with the hilt of his dagger. Not far away on the grass could be seen his hat with a feather and riding gloves. They were trimmed with gold lace, and some unprecedented coat of arms was embroidered on them with small pearls. A short cloak trimmed with sables hung from his shoulder, and his sleek white hands were decorated with rings; heavy lids hid his eyes.

The young Fisherman looked at him enchanted. Finally, their eyes met, and then, no matter where the young Fisherman danced, it seemed to him that the stranger’s gaze was constantly watching him. He heard the Witch laugh, and he grabbed her waist and spun her around in a frantic dance.

Suddenly a dog barked in the forest; the dancers stopped, and couple after couple went to the stranger, and, kneeling, fell to his hand. At the same time, a slight smile played on his proud lips, like water playing from the trembling of a bird’s wings. But there was contempt in that smile. And he continued look only at the young Fisherman.

Let's go and worship him! - the Witch whispered and led him up, and a strong desire to do exactly what she was talking about covered him all over, and he followed her. But when he approached that man, he suddenly, without knowing why, made the sign of the cross and called on the name of the Lord.

And immediately the witches, screaming like hawks, flew away somewhere, and the pale face that was watching him shuddered with a spasm of pain. The man went to the grove and whistled. A Spanish stallion in a silver harness ran out to meet him. The man jumped on his horse, looked around and looked sadly at the young Fisherman.

And the red-haired Witch tried to fly away with him, but the young Fisherman grabbed her hands and held her tightly.

Let me go, let me go! - she prayed. “For you have named a name that is not appropriate to be called, and you have made such a sign that it is not appropriate to look at.”

No,” he answered her, “I won’t let you in until you tell me the secret.”

What secret?” she asked, breaking away from him like a wild cat and biting her foamy lips.

“You know yourself,” he said. Her eyes, green as field grass, suddenly became clouded with tears, and she said in response:

Ask for whatever you want, but not this!

He laughed and squeezed her tighter.

And, seeing that she could not escape, she whispered to him:

I am as pretty as the daughters of the sea, I am as good as those who live in the blue waves,” and she began to caress him and brought her face closer to his.

But he frowned, pushed her away and said:

If you don't keep your promise, I will kill you, Trickster Witch.

Her face turned gray, like the flower of a Judas tree, and, shuddering, she quietly answered:

As you wish. The soul is not mine, but yours. Do with it what you want.

And she took a small knife from her belt and handed it to him. The handle of the knife was covered with green snakeskin.

Why do I need it? - asked the surprised Rybak.

She was silent for a short time, and horror distorted her face. Then she brushed her red hair from her brow and, smiling strangely, said:

What people call their shadow is not the shadow of their body, but the body of their soul. Go out to the seashore, stand with your back to the moon and cut off your shadow, this body of your soul, at your very feet, and command it to leave you, and it will fulfill your command.

The young fisherman trembled.

This is true? - he whispered.

The true truth, and it would be better if I didn’t reveal it,” exclaimed the Witch, sobbing and clinging to his knees.

He pulled her away, and there she remained, in the lush grasses, and, having reached the mountainside, he put this knife in his belt and, grabbing the ledges, began to quickly go down.

And the Soul that was in him called to him and said:

Listen! All these years I lived with you and served you faithfully. Don't drive me away now. What harm have I done to you?

But the young Fisherman laughed.

I haven’t seen any harm from you, but I don’t need you. The world is great, and there is also Heaven, there is also Hell, there is also a gloomy gray abode, which is between Heaven and Hell. Go wherever you want, leave me alone, my darling has been calling me for a long time.

His soul pitifully begged him, but he did not even listen to it.

He confidently, like a wild goat, jumped down from rock to rock; Finally he went down to the yellow shore of the sea. Slender, all made of bronze, like a statue sculpted by a Hellene, he stood on the sand, turning his back to the moon, and white hands were already stretching out to him from the foam, and some vague ghosts were rising from the waves, and their vague greeting was heard.

Directly in front of him lay his shadow, the body of his Soul, and there, behind him, hung the moon in the air, golden as honey.

And the Soul said to him:

If you really must drive me away from you, give me your heart with you. The world is cruel, and I don't want to leave without a heart.

He smiled and shook his head.

How will I love my dear if I give you my heart?

Be kind, - the Soul prayed, - give me your heart with you: the world is very cruel, and I’m scared.

“My heart is given to my dear one!” answered the Fisherman. “Don’t hesitate and leave quickly.”

Wouldn't I love with you? - the Soul asked him.

Go away, I don't need you! - the young man shouted. The fisherman, snatching a small knife with a green snakeskin handle, cut off his shadow at his very feet, and she rose and appeared before him, exactly like him, and looked into his eyes.

He pulled back, stuck the knife in his belt, and a feeling of horror overwhelmed him.

Go,” he whispered, “and don’t show your face to me!”

No, we must meet again! - said the Soul. Her quiet voice was like a flute, and her lips moved slightly.

But how will we meet? Where? “You won’t follow me into the depths of the sea!” exclaimed the young Fisherman.

Every year I will come to this very place and call on you,” answered the Soul. “Who knows, it might happen that you need me.”

“Well, why do I need you?” exclaimed the young Fisherman. “But anyway, be it your way!”

And he threw himself into the water, and the Tritons blew their shells, and the little Virgin of the Sea swam out to meet him, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. i And the Soul stood on the deserted shore, looked at them and, when they disappeared into the waves, sobbing, wandered through the swamps.

And when the first year passed. The soul descended to the seashore and began to call the young Fisherman, and he rose from the abyss and asked:

Why are you calling me?" And the Soul answered:

And he came closer, and lay down on the sandbank, and leaned his head on his hand. I started listening.

And the Soul said to him:

When I left you, I turned my face to the East and set off on a long journey. Everything wise comes from the East.

I was on the road for six days, and on the morning of the seventh day I approached a hill that is located in the lands of Tataria. To hide from the sun, I sat in the shade of a tamarisk tree. The soil was dry and scorched by the heat. As flies crawl on a smooth copper disk, so people moved along this plain.

At noon, a crimson cloud of dust rose from the smooth edge of the earth. When the inhabitants of Tataria saw him, they drew their painted bows, jumped on squat horses and galloped towards him. The women ran screaming to the tents and hid behind the hanging felts.

At dusk the Tatars returned, but five were missing, and many of those who returned were wounded. They harnessed their horses to wagons and hastily took off. Three jackals came out of the cave and looked after them. Then they sniffed the air and trotted off in the opposite direction.

When the moon rose, I saw a fire on the plain and went straight towards it. Some merchants were sitting on carpets around the fire.

Their camels were tied behind them, and their black servants pitched tanned leather tents on the sand. and erected a high fence of thorny cactus.

As I approached them, their leader stood up and drew his sword. asked what I needed.

I replied that I was a Prince in my homeland and that now I was running from the Tatars, who wanted to turn me into slavery.

The leader grinned and showed me five human heads impaled on long bamboo poles.

Then he asked me who was the prophet of God on earth, and I answered: Mohammed.

Hearing the name of the false prophet, he bowed his head and took me by the hand and sat me down next to him. The black man brought me kumys in a wooden cup and a piece of fried lamb.

At dawn we set off. I was riding on a red camel next to the leader of the detachment, and a fast walker was running in front of us, and he had a spear in his hand. There were warriors on both the right and left, and behind them followed mules loaded with various goods. There were forty camels in the caravan, and there were twice as many mules.

We have passed from the country of Tartary to those who curse the Moon. We saw Vultures guarding their gold in the white rocks, we saw scaly Dragons sleeping in caves. When we passed through the mountain ranges, we were afraid to die, so that snow avalanches would not fall on us, and everyone blindfolded their eyes with a light veil of gas. As we passed through the valleys, the Pygmies hiding in the hollows of the trees threw arrows at us, and at night we heard wild people beating their drums. Approaching the Tower of the Monkeys, we laid the fruits in front of them, and they did not touch us. When we approached the Tower of Snakes, we gave them warm milk in copper bowls, and they let us pass. Three times during the journey we went to the banks of the Oxus. We crossed it on wooden rafts with large oxhide furs inflated with air. The hippopotamuses rushed at us furiously and wanted to tear us to pieces.

The camels trembled when they saw them.

The kings of each city collected a toll from us, but did not allow us into the city gates. They threw food to us from behind the walls - honey maize pancakes and pies made from the finest flour, stuffed with dates. For every hundred baskets we gave them an amber ball.

When the villagers saw us approaching, they poisoned the wells and fled to the tops of the hills.

We had to fight the Magadai, who are born old and, every year, become younger and die as babies; we fought with the Lactroi, who consider themselves to be the offspring of tigers and paint themselves with black and yellow stripes. We fought with the Aurants, who bury their dead on the tops of trees, and themselves hide in dark caves so that the Sun, which is considered a deity among them, would not kill them; and with the Krymnians, who worship the crocodile and bring him gifts of earrings of green grass and feed him with butter and young chickens; and with the Agazonbays, who have dog faces; and with Sibans on horse legs, faster than the legs of horses. A third of our squad died in battle and a third of our squad died from hardship. Others grumbled at me and said that I brought them misfortune. I took a horned echidna from under a stone and let it sting me. When they saw that I was unharmed, they were afraid.

In the fourth month we reached the city of Illel. It was night when we approached the grove outside the city walls, and the air was stuffy, for the Moon was in the constellation Scorpio.

We picked ripe pomegranates from the trees, broke them open, and drank their sweet juice. Then we lay down on the carpets and waited for dawn.

And at dawn we got up and knocked on the city gates. These city gates were made of beaten red copper, and on them were sea dragons, as well as winged dragons. The guards, watching from the loopholes, asked what we wanted. The caravan interpreter replied that we came here from the island of Syria with rich goods. They took hostages from us and said that they would open the gates at noon, and told us to wait until noon.

At noon they opened the gates, and people ran out of their houses in crowds to look at the newcomers, and the herald rushed through the streets of the city, shouting into the shell about our arrival. We stopped at the market, and as soon as the blacks untied the bales of patterned fabrics and opened the carved fig tree caskets, the merchants put on display their strange wares: waxed linen from Egypt, dyed linen from the land of the Ethiopians, purple sponges from Tire, blue Sidonian curtains, cool amber bowls, thin glass vessels and also vessels made of baked clay, very bizarre in shape. From the roof of some house, women looked at us. One had a mask of gilded leather on her face.

And on the first day the priests came to us and exchanged our goods. On the second day, noble citizens came. On the third day, artisans and slaves came. This is their custom with all merchants while they are in their city.

And for one moon we remained there, and when the moon waned, I grew tired of trade, and I began to wander through the streets of the city and approached that garden, which was the garden of their god. The priests, dressed in yellow, silently moved among the green trees, and on black marble slabs stood the palace, red as a rose, in which this god lived. The doors of the temple were covered with glaze, and they were decorated with glittering golden bas-reliefs depicting bulls and peacocks. The tiled roof was made of seawater-colored porcelain, and entire garlands of bells hung along its edges. White doves, flying, touched the bells with their wings, and the bells rang from the trembling of their wings.

In front of the temple was a pool of clear water lined with veined onyx. I lay down by the pool and touched the wide leaves with pale fingers. One of the priests came up to me and stood behind me. On his feet were sandals, one of soft snakeskin, the other of bird feathers. On his head was a felt black miter, decorated with silver crescents. Seven patterns of yellow color were woven on his robe, and his curly hair was dyed with antimony.

After a pause, he turned to me and asked what I wanted.

I said that I wanted to see God.

“God is hunting,” answered the priest, looking at me strangely with narrow, slanting eyes.

Tell me what forest he is in and I will hunt with him.

He straightened the soft fringe of his tunic with long, sharp nails.

God is sleeping!

Tell me what bed he is on, and I will guard his sleep.

God is at the table, he is feasting.

If his wine is sweet, I will drink with him; and if his wine is bitter, I will also drink with him. He bowed his head in amazement and, taking me by the hand, helped me rise and led me into the temple.

And in the first chamber I saw an idol sitting on a jasper throne, bordered with large pearls of the East. The idol was made of ebony, and its height was the height of a man. He had a ruby ​​on his forehead, and thick oil flowed from his hair onto his thighs. His legs were red with the blood of a freshly killed kid, and his loins were girded with a copper belt with seven beryls. And I told the priest:

Is this God? And he answered:

This is God.

Show me God!” I shouted. “Or you will be killed!”

And I touched his hand, and his hand withered.

And the priest prayed, saying:

Let the master heal his servant, and I will show him God.

Then I breathed on the priest’s hand, and again it became alive, and he trembled and led me into the next chamber, and I saw an idol standing on a jade lotus, which was decorated with emeralds. It was carved from ivory, and its height was as high as two human heights. He had chrysolite on his forehead, and his chest was anointed with cinnamon and myrrh. In one hand he held a sinuous jade rod and in the other a crystal orb. His shoes were buskins made of copper, and a selenite necklace was wrapped around his corpulent neck.

And I told the priest:

Is this God? And he answered:

This is God.

Show me God! - I shouted. “Or you will be killed!”

And I touched his eyelids with my hand, and his eyes immediately went blind. And the priest prayed:

Let the master heal his servant, and I will show him God.

Then I breathed on his blinded eyes, and they became sighted again, and, trembling, he led me into the third chamber, and there was no idol, there were no idols, but only a round metal mirror standing on a stone altar.

And I told the priest:

Where is God? And he answered:

There is no god except the mirror that you see in front of you, for it is the Mirror of Wisdom. And it reflects everything in heaven and on earth. Only the face of the person looking at it is not reflected in it. It is not reflected in it so that the one looking at it becomes a sage. There are many kinds of mirrors, but those mirrors reflect only the Thoughts of the person looking into them. Only this mirror is the Mirror of Wisdom. Whoever possesses this Mirror of Wisdom knows everything on earth, and nothing is hidden from him. Whoever does not have this mirror does not have Wisdom. Therefore this mirror is the god we worship.

And I looked in the mirror, and everything was as the priest told me.

And I did an extraordinary deed, but what I did is not important, and in a valley, a day’s journey away, I hid the Mirror of Wisdom. Let me enter you again and be your slave - you will be wiser than all the wise, and all Wisdom will be yours. Let me enter you again, and no wise man can compare with you.

But the young Fisherman laughed.

“Love is better than Wisdom,” he cried, “and the little Sea Maiden loves me.”

No, Wisdom is above all, the Soul told him.

Love is higher than it! - answered the Fisherman and plunged into the abyss, and his soul, sobbing, wandered through the swamps.

And after the second year the Soul again came to the seashore and called the Fisherman, and he came out of the depths and said:

Come closer to me and listen to me, for I have seen many wonderful things.

And the Soul said to him:

When I left you, I turned to the South and set off on a long journey. Everything precious in the world comes from the South. For six days I was on the road, walking along the big roads leading to the city of Ashter, along the red, dusty roads along which pilgrims wander, and on the morning of the seventh day I raised my eyes, and behold, a city lay spread out at my feet, for this city is in the valley .

The city has nine gates, and at each gate there is a bronze horse, and these horses neigh when the Bedouins descend from the mountains. The walls of the city are covered with red copper, and the towers on these walls are covered with bronze. In each tower there is an archer, and each has a bow in his hands.

At sunrise everyone shoots an arrow at a gong, and at sunset they blow a horn.

When I tried to enter the city, the guards detained me and asked who I was. I replied that I was a Dervish and was now heading to Mecca, where there was a green blanket on which the angels had embroidered the Koran in silver. And the guards were filled with surprise and asked me to enter the city.

The city was like a bazaar. It is truly a pity that you were not with me. In the narrow streets, cheerful paper lanterns sway like large butterflies. When the wind sweeps across the roofs, the lanterns sway in the wind like colorful bubbles. At the entrance to the shops, merchants sit on silk rugs. They have straight black beards, their turbans are strewn with golden sequins; and long threads of amber rosaries and chiseled peach pits slide through their cold fingers. Others trade in gilban, and spikenard, and some unknown perfumes from the islands of the Indian Sea, and thick oil made from red roses, myrrh and small cloves. If anyone stops and engages in conversation with them, they throw pinches of incense onto the brazier and the air becomes sweet. I saw a Syrian who was holding a rod in his hand, thin, like a reed. Gray threads of smoke came out of this rod, and its smell, while it burned, was like the smell of pink almonds in spring. Others sell silver bracelets studded with milky blue turquoise, and wrists of copper wire edged with small pearls, and tiger and leopard claws set in gold, and earrings of drilled emeralds, and rings of hollowed jade. The sounds of guitars are heard from the teahouses, and pale-faced opium smokers look at passers-by with a smile.

It is truly a pity that you were not with me. Wine sellers with large black wineskins on their backs squeeze through the crowd. Most often they sell Shiraz, sweet as honey. They serve it in small metal bowls and sprinkle rose petals in it. Sellers stand in the market and sell all the fruits in the world: ripe figs with purple flesh; melons smelling musky and yellow like topaz; oranges and pink apples, and bunches of white grapes; round red-gold oranges and oblong green-gold lemons. One day I saw an elephant passing by. His trunk was painted with saffron and cinnabar, and on his ears he had a net of scarlet silk cords. He stopped at one hut and began to devour oranges, and the merchant just laughed. You can’t even imagine what a strange people they are. When they are happy, they go to the bird sellers, buy a bird caged, and release it into the wild in order to increase the fun; and when they are in grief, they scourge themselves with thorns so that their grief does not become weaker.

One evening I came across some blacks; they carried a heavy palanquin through the market. It was made entirely of gilded bamboo, its handles were red, covered with glaze and decorated with copper peacocks. Thin muslin curtains, embroidered with beetle wings and studded with tiny pearls, hung on the windows, and when the palanquin drew level with me, a pale-faced Circassian woman looked out and smiled at me. I followed the palanquin. The blacks quickened their pace and looked at me angrily. But I ignored their threats. Great curiosity seized me.

Finally they stopped at a rectangular white house. There were no windows in this house, only a small door, like the door leading to a tomb. The blacks lowered the palanquin to the ground and knocked three times with a copper hammer. An Armenian in a green morocco caftan looked through the bars of the door window and, seeing them, unlocked the door, spread a carpet on the ground, and the woman left the stretcher. At the entrance to the house, she looked back and sent me a smile again. I have never seen such a pale face.

When the moon appeared in the sky, I came to that place again and began to look for that house, but it was no longer there. Then I guessed who this woman was and why she smiled at me. It is truly a pity that you were not with me. On the New Moon holiday, the young Sultan left the palace and went to the mosque for prayer. His beard and hair were colored with rose leaves, and his cheeks were powdered with fine gold powder. His palms and the soles of his feet were yellow with saffron. At sunrise he left his palace dressed in silver, and at sunset he returned dressed in gold. People prostrated themselves before him and hid their faces, but I did not prostrate myself. I stood at the date vendor's stand and waited. When the Sultan saw me, he raised his painted eyebrows and stopped. But I stood calmly and did not bow to him. People were surprised at my audacity and advised me to escape from the city. I ignored their advice and went and sat down next to the sellers of foreign gods; these people are despised because their trade is despised. When I told them what I had done, each gave me one of the gods and begged me to leave.

That same night, as soon as I prostrated myself on my bed in the tea house on Granatov Street, the Sultan’s bodyguards entered and took me to the palace. They locked every door behind me and hung an iron chain on it. Inside there was a vast courtyard, all surrounded by arcades. The walls were alabaster, white, with green and blue tiles, the columns were of green marble, and the marble slabs under the feet were the same color as the petals of the peach tree. I've never seen anything like it.

While I was passing through this courtyard, two women, whose faces were covered with veils, looked at me from the balcony and sent a curse after me. The bodyguards quickened their pace, and their spears clattered on the smooth floor. Finally they opened the ivory gate, and I found myself in a garden spread over seven terraces. The garden was abundantly irrigated with water. It was planted with tulips, night beauties and silver aloe. Like a thin crystal reed, a trickle of a fountain hung in the hazy air. And the cypress trees stood like burnt out torches. A nightingale sang on the branches of a cypress tree.

At the end of the garden there was a small gazebo. As we approached it, two eunuchs came out to meet us. Their corpulent bodies swayed, and they looked at me with curiosity from under their yellow eyelids. One of them took the chief of the guard aside and whispered something to him in a quiet voice. The other continued to chew some fragrant cakes all the time, which he took out from a purple enamel oval box with a mincing movement of his hand.

A few minutes later the commander of the guard ordered the soldiers to leave. They walked back to the palace, followed slowly by the eunuchs, picking sweet mulberries from the trees along the way. The older eunuch looked at me and smiled an ominous smile.

Then the chief of the guard led me to the very entrance to the gazebo. I fearlessly walked behind him and, pulling back the heavy curtain, entered.

The young Sultan reclined on painted lion skins, with a falcon sitting on his arm. Behind the Sultan stood a Nubian in a turban decorated with copper, naked to the waist and with heavy earrings in his pierced ears. A heavy, curved saber lay on the table by the bed.

The Sultan frowned when he saw me and said:

Who are you? Say your name. Or do you not know that I am the ruler of this city?

But I didn’t answer.

The Sultan pointed to the curved saber, and the Nubian grabbed it and, leaning forward, hit me with terrible force. The blade whistled through me, but I remained alive and unharmed. The Nubian stretched out on the floor, and when he got up, his teeth chattered with horror, and he hid behind the Sultan's bed.

The Sultan jumped to his feet and, snatching a dart from a weapon stand, threw it at me. I caught it in flight and broke it in half. The Sultan shot at me with a bow, but I raised my hands and the arrow stopped in flight. Then, from behind a white leather belt, he pulled out a dagger and stuck it in the Nubian’s throat, so that the slave could not tell about his master’s shame. The Nubian began to writhe like a crushed snake, and red foam bubbled up on his lips.

As soon as he died, the Sultan turned to me and said, wiping off the perspiration that glistened on his forehead with a handkerchief made of purple embroidered silk:

Are you not a prophet of God, for I have no power to cause you any harm, or perhaps the son of a prophet, for my weapon is not able to destroy you. I ask you to get away from here, because as long as you are here, I am not the ruler of my city.

And I answered him:

I will leave if you give me half of your treasures. Give me half the treasure and I will leave here.

He took me by the hand and led me into the garden. The chief of the guard, seeing me, was amazed. But when the eunuchs saw me, their knees trembled and they fell to the ground in horror.

There is an eight-walled hall in the palace, all of crimson porphyry, with a scaly copper ceiling from which lamps hang. The Sultan touched the wall; it opened up, and we walked along some long passage, illuminated by many torches. In the niches on the right and left stood wine jugs filled to the brim with silver coins. When we reached the middle of the corridor. The Sultan uttered some sacred word, and the granite door swung open on a secret spring; The Sultan covered his face with his hands so that his eyes would not go blind.

You won't believe what a wonderful place it was. There were large tortoiseshells full of pearls and huge hollowed-out moon rocks full of red rubies. The chests lined with elephant skins contained red gold, and the leather vessels contained gold sand. There were opals and sapphires: opals in crystal bowls, and sapphires in jade bowls. Large green emeralds were laid out in rows on thin ivory dishes, and in the corner stood silk bales, some filled with turquoise, others with beryl. The ivory hunting horns were filled to the brim with purple amethysts, and the horns, which were made of copper, were filled with chalcedony and carneriles. The columns of cedar wood were hung with threads of lynx's eyes "(a lynx's eye is a precious stone), on oval flat shields there were piles of carbuncles, some of the color of wine, others of the color of grass. And yet I described barely a tenth of that what was in this secret chamber.

And the Sultan said to me, removing his hands from his face:

This is where all my treasures are kept. Half of the treasure is yours, as I promised. I will give you camels and drivers who will obey you and take your share wherever you wish. All this will be accomplished this very night, for I do not want my father, the Sun, to see that he lives in my city whom I cannot kill.

But I said to the Sultan in response:

The gold is yours, and the silver is also yours, and these precious stones are yours and all these countless riches. I don't need any of this. I won't take anything from you, just this little ring on your finger.

The Sultan frowned and said:

This is a simple lead ring. It has no price. Take your half of the treasure and quickly leave my city.

No,” I answered, “I won’t take anything, just this lead ring, because I know what marks are on it and what they serve.”

And, shuddering, the Sultan prayed:

Take all the treasures I have, just leave my city. I also give you my half of the treasure.

And I did a strange thing, but it’s not worth talking about - and in a cave, a day away from here, I hid the Ring of Wealth. It's only a day's journey there, and this ring is waiting for you. The owner of this ring is richer than all the kings in the world. Come and take it, and all the treasures of the world are yours.

But the young Fisherman laughed.

Love is better than Wealth! - he shouted. “And the little Virgin of the Sea loves me.”

No, Wealth is best! - the Soul told him.

Love is better! - answered the Fisherman and plunged into the abyss, and the Soul, sobbing, wandered through the swamps.

And again, after the third year, the Soul came to the seashore and called the Fisherman, and he emerged from the abyss and said:

Why are you calling me? And the Soul answered:

Come closer to me so that I can talk to you, for I have seen many wonderful things.

And he came closer, and lay down on the sandbank, and, leaning his head on his hand, began to listen.

And the Soul said to him:

I know one city. There is a tavern over the river. There I sat with the sailors. They drank wine of both colors, ate small salted fish with bay leaves and vinegar, and bread made from barley flour. We were sitting there having fun, and an old man came in, and in his hands he had a leather rug and a lute with two amber pegs. Having spread a rug on the floor, he struck the metal strings of his lute with a feather, and a girl, whose face was covered with a veil, ran in and began to dance in front of them. Her face was covered with a muslin veil, and her legs were naked. Her legs were naked, and they fluttered across this carpet like two doves.

I have never seen anything more wonderful, and the city where she dances is a day away from here.

Hearing these words of his Soul, the young Fisherman remembered that the little Sea Maiden had no legs at all and could not dance.

A passionate desire seized him, and he said to himself: “It’s only a day’s journey there, and I can return to my sweetheart.”

And he laughed, and stood on the shallows, and stepped towards the shore.

And when he reached the shore, he laughed again and stretched out his hands to his Soul. And the Soul screamed loudly for joy, and ran towards him, and moved into him, and the young Fisherman saw that the shadow of his body was stretched out again on the sand, and the shadow of the body was the body of the Soul.

And the Soul said to him:

Let us not hesitate, we must leave here immediately, for the Gods of the Sea are jealous, and they have many monsters that obey them.

And they hastily departed, and walked under the moon all night, and all day they walked under the sun, and when evening came, they approached some city.

And the Soul said to him:

It's not this one, it's the other one. But let's go into it anyway. And they entered this city and began to wander through its streets, and as they passed along the Street of Jewelers, the young Fisherman saw a beautiful silver bowl displayed in some shop.

And his Soul said to him:

Take this silver cup and hide it. And he took the silver cup and hid it in the folds of his tunic, and they hastily left the city. And when they had gone a mile away, the young Fisherman frowned and threw away this cup and said to the Soul:

Why did you tell me to steal this cup and hide it? It was a bad thing.

Be calm, - answered the Soul, - be calm.

By the evening of the next day they approached a city, and the young Fisherman again asked the Soul:

And the Soul answered him:

It's not this one, it's the other one. But let's go into it anyway. And they entered this city and walked through its streets, and as they passed along the Street of Sandal Sellers, the young Fisherman saw a child standing by a jug of water.

And his Soul said to him:

Hit that child.

And he struck the child, and the child began to cry; then they hastily left the city.

And when they were a mile away from the city, the young Fisherman frowned and said to the Soul:

Why did you tell me to hit the child? It was a bad thing.

Be calm, - answered the Soul, - be calm! And towards the evening of the third day they approached a city, and the young Fisherman said to his Soul:

Is this not the city where the one you told me about is dancing?

And the Soul said to him:

Maybe that one too, let's go into it.

And they entered this city and walked through its streets, but nowhere could the young Fisherman find either a river or an inn. And the inhabitants of this city looked at him with curiosity, and he felt terrified, and he said to his Soul:

Let's leave here, because the one who dances with white feet is not here.

But his Soul answered him:

No, we will stay here, because the night is now dark and we will meet robbers on the road.

And he sat down in the market square and began to rest, and then a merchant passed by him, and his head was covered with the hood of a cloak, and the cloak was made of Tatar cloth, and on a long reed he held a lantern made of a cow's horn.

And the merchant said to him:

Why are you sitting at the market? You see: all the shops are closed and the bales are tied with ropes.

And the young fisherman answered him:

I can’t find a visiting house in this city, and I don’t have a brother who would shelter me.

Aren't we all brothers? - said the merchant. “Aren’t we created by one Creator?” Come with me, I have a guest room.

And the young Fisherman got up and followed the merchant to his house. And when, through the pomegranate garden, he entered under the roof of his house, the merchant brought him rose water in a copper tub to wash his hands and ripe melons to quench his thirst, and placed before him a dish of rice and a roasted young goat. At the end of the meal, the merchant led him to the guest chamber and invited him to rest and rest. And the young Fisherman thanked him, and kissed the ring that was on his hand, and threw himself on the carpets of dyed goat hair.

And when he covered himself with a cover of black sheep's wool, sleep overtook him.

And three hours before dawn, while it was still night, his Soul woke him up and said to him:

Get up and go to the merchant, to the room where he is sleeping, and kill him, and take his gold from him, for we need gold.

And the young Fisherman stood up and crept into the merchant’s bedchamber, and at the merchant’s feet there was some kind of crooked sword, and next to the merchant, on a tray, there were nine purses of gold. And he extended his hand and touched the sword, but when he touched it, the merchant shuddered and, rising up, grabbed the sword himself and shouted to the young Fisherman:

Do you repay with evil for good and with the shedding of blood for the mercy I have shown you? And his Soul said to the Fisherman:

And he hit the merchant so hard that the merchant fell dead, and he grabbed all nine purses of gold and hastily ran away through the pomegranate garden, and turned his face to the star, and that star was the Morning Star.

And, moving away from the city, the young Fisherman struck his chest and said to his Soul:

Why did you order to kill this merchant and take his gold? Truly you are an evil Soul!

“Be calm,” she answered, “be calm!”

“No,” cried the young Fisherman, “I cannot be at peace, and everything you forced me to do is hateful to me.” And you are hated by me, and therefore I ask you to tell me why you did this to me?

And his Soul answered him:

When you sent me into the world and drove me away from you, you did not give me a heart, that’s why I learned these deeds and fell in love with them.

What are you saying! - cried the Fisherman.

You know,” his Soul answered, “you know it well yourself.” Or have you forgotten that you didn't give me a heart? I guess you haven't forgotten. And therefore, do not worry either yourself or me, but be at peace, for there will not be that sorrow from which you would not get rid, and there will not be that pleasure that you would not experience.

And when the young Fisherman heard these words, he trembled and said:

You are evil, you are evil, you made me forget my sweetheart, you seduced me with temptations and directed my steps onto the path of sin. And his Soul answered:

Do you remember that when you sent me into the world, you did not give me a heart. Let's go somewhere to the city and have fun there, because we now have nine wallets of gold.

But the young Fisherman took these nine purses of gold and threw them on the ground and began to trample them.

No! - he shouted. “I have nothing to do with you, and I won’t go anywhere with you, but just as I once drove you away, so I will drive you away now, because you did me harm.”

And he turned his back to the moon and, with the same short knife with a handle wrapped in green snake skin, tried to cut off his shadow at his very feet. The shadow of the body is the body of the Soul.

But the Soul did not leave him and did not listen to his commands.

The spell given to you by the Witch, she said, has already lost its power: I cannot leave you, and you cannot drive me away.

Only once in his entire life can a person drive away his Soul from himself, but the one who regains it, may he preserve it forever and ever, and this is his punishment, and this is his punishment, and this is his reward.

And the young Fisherman became pale, clenched his fists and exclaimed:

The damned Witch deceived me, because she kept silent about it!

Yes,” answered the Soul, “she was faithful to the one whom she serves and whom she will forever serve.”

And when the young Fisherman learned that there was no deliverance from his Soul and that it was an evil Soul and would remain with him forever, he fell to the ground and wept bitterly.

And when it was already day, the young Fisherman stood up and said to his Soul:

So I will tie my hands so as not to carry out your commands, and so I will close my lips so as not to speak your words, and I will return to the place where my beloved lives, to that very sea I will return, to the small bay where she sings she is her songs, and I will call her and tell her about the evil that I have committed and which you inspired in me.

And his Soul, tempting him, said:

Who is she, your beloved, and is it worth returning to her? There are many more beautiful than her. There are Samaritan dancers who imitate every bird and every animal in their dances. Their legs are painted with lavzonia, and in their hands they have copper bells. When they dance, they laugh, and their laughter has a ringing sound, like the laughter of water. Come with me and I will show them to you. Why should you lament your sins? Isn't what is pleasant to eat created for the eater? And what is sweet to drink, is there poison?

Forget your sadness and come with me to another city. There is a small town not far from here, and it has a garden of tulip trees. In this beautiful garden there are white-colored peacocks and blue-breasted peacocks. Their tails, when they spread them when the sun shines, are like discs of ivory, as well as gilded discs. And she who gives them food dances to bring them joy; sometimes she dances in her arms. Her eyes are darkened; nostrils like the wings of a swallow. A pearl flower is suspended from one of her nostrils. She laughs as she dances, and her silver wrists ring like bells on her feet. Forget your sadness and come with me to this city.

But the young Fisherman did not answer anything to his Soul, he put a seal of silence on his lips and tied his hands with a strong rope, and went back to the place from where he had come, to that small bay where his beloved usually sang her songs to him. And the Soul constantly tempted him, but he did not answer anything and did not commit the bad deeds to which it prompted him. So great was the power of his love.

And when he came to the seashore, he took the rope from his hands, and freed his lips from the seal of silence, and began to call the little Virgin of the Sea. But she did not respond to the call, although he called her from morning to evening and begged her to come to him.

And the Soul mocked him, saying:

Love brings you few joys. You are like one who pours water into a broken vessel during a drought. You give what you have and nothing is given to you in return. It would be better for you to come with me, for I know where the Valley of Joy is and what is happening in it.

But the young Fisherman did not answer the Soul. In a cleft in the Cliff he built himself a hut from twigs and lived there for a year. And every morning he called the Virgin of the Sea, and every noon he called her again, and every night he called her again. But she did not rise from the sea to meet him, and nowhere in the whole sea could he find her, although he looked for her in caves, and in green water, and in backwaters left by the tide, and in springs that bubbled at the bottom.

And his Soul tirelessly tempted him with sin and whispered about terrible deeds, but could not seduce him, so great was the power of his love.

And when this year has passed. The soul said to itself: “I tempted my master with evil, and his love turned out to be stronger than me. Now I will tempt him with good, and perhaps he will go with me.”

And she said to the young Fisherman:

I told you about the joys of this world, but your ear did not hear me. Let me now tell you about the sorrows of human life, and perhaps you will hear me. For truly Sorrow is the mistress of this world, and there is not a single person who escapes its snares. There are those who have no clothes, and those who have no bread. Some widows are dressed in purple, and others are dressed in rags. Lepers roam the swamps, and they are cruel to each other. Beggars wander along the highways, and their bags are empty. In cities, Famine is walking through the streets, and Plague is sitting at the city gates. Let's go, let's go - let's save people from all disasters, so that there is no more grief in the world. Why do you hesitate here and call your sweetheart? You see, she doesn't come. And what is love that you value it so highly?

But the young Fisherman did not answer, for the power of his love was great. And every morning he called the Virgin of the Sea, and every noon he called her again, and at night he called her again. But she did not rise to meet him, and nowhere in the whole sea could he find her, although he looked for her in the rivers that flow into the sea, and in the valleys that are hidden by the waves, and in the sea that turns purple at night, and in the sea that the dawn leaves in darkness.

And another year passed, and one night, when the young Fisherman was sitting alone in his hut, his Soul turned to him and said:

I tempted you with evil, and with good I tempted you, but your love is stronger than me. From now on, I will not tempt you, but I beg you, allow me to enter your heart so that I can merge with you, as before.

Indeed, you can come in,” said the young Fisherman, “for it seems to me that you experienced a lot of suffering when you wandered around the world without a heart.”

Alas! - exclaimed the Soul. - I cannot find the entrance, because your heart is shrouded in love.

“And yet I would like to help you,” said the young Fisherman. And as soon as he said this, a loud cry was heard, that cry that comes to people when one of the Dwellers of the sea dies. And the young Fisherman jumped up and left his wicker hut and ran to the shore. And the black waves quickly ran towards him and carried with them some kind of burden that was whiter than silver. White as foam was this burden, and like a flower it swayed on the waves. And the waves gave her to the surf, and the surf gave her to the foam, and the shore accepted her, and the young Fisherman saw that the body of the Virgin of the Sea was stretched out at his feet. Dead, it lay prostrate at his feet.

Sobbing as those stricken with grief sob, the Fisherman threw himself on the ground, kissed her cold scarlet lips, and fingered her damp amber hair. Lying next to her on the sand and shuddering, as if with joy, he pressed her body to his chest with his dark hands. Her lips were cold, but he kissed them. The honey of her hair was salty, but he tasted it with bitter joy. He kissed her closed eyelids, and the stormy splashes on them were not as salty as his tears.

And he brought his repentance to the dead. And he poured the tart wine of his speeches into her shell-like ears. He wrapped her arms around his neck and caressed the thin, delicate cane of her throat. Bitter, bitter was his rejoicing, and there was some strange happiness in his sorrow.

The black waves moved closer, and the groan of the white foam was like the groan of a leper. The sea pierced the shore with the snow-white claws of its foam. A cry came again from the hall of the Sea King, and far out in the open sea the Tritons blew their shells hoarsely.

Run away,” said the Soul, “for the sea is approaching ever closer, and if you hesitate, it will destroy you.” Run away, for I am overcome with fear. After all, your heart is inaccessible to me, since your love is too great. Run to safety. You don’t want me, deprived of a heart, to move to another world.

But the Fisherman did not listen to his Soul; he called out to the little Sea Maiden.

Love, he said, is better than wisdom, more valuable than wealth and more beautiful than the legs of the daughters of men. Fires cannot burn it, waters cannot extinguish it. I called you at dawn, but you did not come to my call. The moon heard your name, but you did not listen to me.

I left you on grief, I left you to my destruction. But love for you always remained in me, and it was so indestructibly powerful that everything was powerless over it, although I saw both evil and good. And now that you are dead, I will also die with you.

The cult of the Beautiful, of which Wilde was an ardent propagandist, led the young man to rebellion against bourgeois values, but to a rebellion that was rather purely aesthetic. The preaching of the beauty of suffering, of Christianity (taken in the ethical and aesthetic aspect), which Wilde came to in prison (De profundis), was prepared in his previous work. Almost for the first time in the history of culture, an artist or writer considered his entire life as an aesthetic act. However, what became almost an artistic norm in the 20th century was unacceptable for Victorian England at the end of the 19th century. Wilde, with his pursuit of exquisite sensations, with his gourmet physiology, is alien to metaphysical aspirations. Wilde's fiction, devoid of mystical overtones, is either a naked - conditional assumption, or a fabulous game of fiction. All his tales end with the apotheosis of love, self-sacrifice, compassion for the disadvantaged, and helping the poor. CONTENTS 1. Wonderful rocket; 2. The fisherman and his soul; 3. The Happy Prince

Paraphrase from ancient Greek παράφρασις - retelling, presentation of the text in your own words.

I present to your attention graphic paraphrase– presentation of the performance “The Fisherman and his soul” in 15 illustrations.
The performance is based on the fairy tale of the same name from the collection “The House of Pomegranates” (1891) by the English playwright Oscar Wilde (1854 – 1900) at the Moscow theater “School of Dramatic Art”, on Sretenka, 19.
Stage director: Igor Yatsko.

Materials: acrylic paint, paper, each sheet ~240x350 mm.
December 2014.

O. Wilde's fairy tale “The Fisherman and His Soul” compositionally similar to a fairy tale A. Pushkin “About the fisherman and the fish.” Wilde’s Fisherman is a young fellow, the Goldfish is a beautiful Mermaid, and as an Old Woman, Wilde brought out the Human Soul in the form of a Shadow of a man that spreads along the ground like a snake, dark, greedy and enviously down-to-earth like an Old Woman. In Pushkin, the fairy tale ends with everything returning to normal, but in Wilde, all three main characters die, unable to overcome their desires to drag the Swan, Cancer and Pike each in their own direction.
The Swan is the Soul that rushes into the clouds.
Cancer is the Fisherman himself, moving back, now to the seashore, now to a warm home.
Pike is a fish or mermaid that pulls into the water. Although he speaks in a human voice and promises to fulfill Emelino’s every wish.
Fairy tale O. Wilde much longer than a fairy tale A. Pushkin and is filled with many more minor characters who, like a well-rehearsed choir, create an indescribable musical harmony of various ethnic and very popular hits and melodies. What is the Sabbath on Bald Mountain worth, where the Red-haired Witch dances flamenco!
In the theater performance, however, there was no place for these musical colors, which is a pity.
*
All captions for illustrations are given according to the text of the fairy tale. "The Fisherman and His Soul" by English playwright Oscar Wilde in translation Korney Chukovsky.

Every evening a young fisherman went out to fish and cast nets into the sea.
...And, straining his strength, he leaned on the rough ropes, so that long veins, like threads of blue enamel on a bronze vase, appeared on his hands. He pulled the thin strings, and the flat plugs floated closer and closer to him in a large ring, and the net finally rose to the surface of the water.

And while the Virgin of the Sea was singing, schools of tuna swam out of the depths of the sea to listen to her, and the young Fisherman caught them, surrounding them with his nets, and killed others with a spear. When his shuttle was full, the Virgin of the Sea, smiling at him, plunged into the sea.

Little Virgin of the Sea, little Virgin of the Sea, I love you. Be my wife because I love you.
But the Sea Maiden shook her head and answered:
-You have a human soul! Drive your soul away and I can love you.

4.

But how can I drive away my soul? - shouted the young Fisherman. - Teach me how to do it, and I will do everything you say.
- Alas! I do not know myself! - answered the Virgin of the Sea. - We, the Dwellers of the Sea, never had a soul.

The human soul is worth all the gold in the world, and more valuable than royal rubies. Therefore, my son, forget your thoughts, for this is an irredeemable sin. And the Dwellers of the Sea are cursed, and everyone who decides to communicate with them is cursed. They, like wild animals, do not know where is good and where is evil, and the Redeemer did not die for them, said the Priest.

The red-haired witch grabbed the Fisherman by the hand and led him out into the moonlight and began to dance. They were both spinning like a whirlwind, and the Witch was jumping so high that he could see the red heels of her shoes.
- Faster! - the Witch screamed and, clasping his neck with her hands, breathed hotly into his face. - Faster! Faster! - she screamed, and it seemed as if the earth was spinning under his feet, his head became clouded, and great horror attacked him...

As you wish. The soul is not mine, but yours. Do whatever you want with her,” the Witch answered quietly.
And she took a small knife from her belt and handed it to him. The handle of the knife was covered with green snakeskin.
- Why do I need it? - asked the surprised Rybak.

The witch threw back her red hair from her brow and, smiling strangely, said:
- What people call their shadow is not the shadow of their body, but the body of their soul. Go out to the seashore, stand with your back to the moon and cut off your shadow, this body of your soul, at your very feet, and command it to leave you, and it will fulfill your command.

And when the first year passed. The soul descended to the seashore and began to call the young Fisherman, and he rose from the abyss and asked:
- Why are you calling me? And the Soul answered:

...Wisdom is above all,” the Soul told him.

And after the second year the Soul again came to the seashore and called the Fisherman, and he came out of the depths and said:
- Why are you calling me?
And the Soul answered:
- Come closer to me and listen to me, for I have seen many wonderful things.
...Wealth is the best! - the Soul told him.

And again, after the third year, the Soul came to the seashore and called the Fisherman, and he emerged from the abyss and said:
- Why are you calling me?
And the Soul answered:
- Come closer to me so that I can talk to you, for I have seen many wonderful things.

...I have never seen anything more wonderful than the dance of a dancer’s naked legs! - the Soul told him.

And three hours before dawn, while it was still night, his Soul woke him up and said to him:
- Get up and go to the merchant, to the room where he is sleeping, and kill him with a sword, and take his gold from him, for we need gold.

What are you saying! - cried the Fisherman.
“You know,” answered his Soul, “you know it well yourself.” Or have you forgotten that you didn't give me a heart? I guess you haven't forgotten. And therefore, do not worry either yourself or me, but be at peace, for there will not be that sorrow from which you would not get rid, and there will not be that pleasure that you would not experience.

And the young Fisherman jumped up and left his wicker hut and ran to the shore. And the black waves quickly ran towards him and carried with them some kind of burden that was whiter than silver. White as foam was this burden, and like a flower it swayed on the waves. And the waves gave her to the surf, and the surf gave her to the foam, and the shore accepted her, and the young Fisherman saw that the body of the Virgin of the Sea was stretched out at his feet. Dead, it lay prostrate at his feet.
...A cry was heard again from the palace of the Sea King, and far out in the open sea the Tritons blew their shells hoarsely.

M. A. Chebrakova

Semantic analysis of the theme of death in the fairy tales of the English writer Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900)

Melos and Logos: Dialogue in history. Proceedings of the Third International Conference "Metaphysics of Art", November 19 - 20, 2004

http://sofik-rgi.narod.ru/avtori/dpf_2004/tchebrakova.htm

Introduction.

As you know, Oscar Wilde is the author of two collections of fairy tales: “The Happy Prince and Other Tales” (“The Prince and Other Tales”, 1888) and “The House of Pomegranates” (“A House of Romegranates”, 1891). The first collection contains 5 fairy tales:

1. “The Happy Prince” (“The Narru Prinse”),

2. “The Nightingale and the Rose”,

3. “The Selfish Giant” (“T he Selfish Giant”),

4. “The Devoted Friend”,

5. “The Remarkable Rocket”;

second - 4 tales:

6. “The Young King” (“The Young King”),

7. “The Birthday of Infanta”,

8. “The Fisherman and his Soul”,

9. “The Star-Child”.

At the end of Section 4 of this work there is a Table containing a list of the main characters of Oscar Wilde’s fairy tales and their main actions. From the analysis of the information presented in this Table, we can conclude that in Oscar Wilde's fairy tales at least one of the main characters dies. The only exception is tale 8 ("The Young King"). But in this tale, death is present in the magical dreams of the Young King, which he sees on the eve of his coronation day. Thus, the theme of death is a common theme in all 9 of Oscar Wilde's fairy tales.

The main goal of this work is to conduct a semantic analysis of the theme of death in Oscar Wilde’s fairy tales (Sections 2 - 4) and to identify the correlation of the binary characteristics of Oscar Wilde’s fairy tales optimistic / pessimistic with the main actions of the heroes and their death (Section 5).

2. Fairy tale “The Happy Prince”

When the Prince was a man, he lived in a limited area (Palace and Garden, surrounded by a high wall), everything was beautiful around him, but the life of his human heart was imaginary (he did not know what tears were and never thought to ask what takes place behind the wall of the Garden). After his death, the Prince was reborn in the guise of a statue, which surprisingly accurately reflects the indicated features of his human life:

The limited living space of the Prince-man is reflected in the chaining of the Prince-statue to the pedestal;

The limited ideas of the Human Prince about life are reflected in the fact that under the beautiful shell of the statue there is lead;

The limited (imaginary) life of the Prince’s human heart is reflected in the fact that in his new appearance the Prince has a holy heart.

Thanks to his new location (“I was placed here, at the top, so high” (hereinafter, fragments of the text of Oscar Wilde’s fairy tales are quoted from)) the Prince sees “all the sorrows and all the poverty” of his capital and this causes him great suffering (“although his heart is now I have a fever, I can’t stop myself from crying”).

By giving away his treasures with the help of the Swallow, the Prince-Statue made many needy residents of his capital happy (“Leaf after leaf she, the Swallow, his, the Prince, gave out gold to the poor, and the children’s cheeks turned pink, and the children began to laugh and started games in the streets.” “And we have bread!” they shouted).

At the end of the fairy tale, the Swallow kissed the Happy Prince on the mouth and fell dead at his feet. And at that very moment a strange crash was heard from inside the statue, as if something had exploded. This leaden heart broke." After the quoted words in the text of the fairy tale, there follows the sentence “Truly there was a severe frost,” which hides (“deliberately camouflages”).

The tale ends with the words “And the Lord commanded his angel: “Bring Me the most valuable thing that you find in this city.” And the angel brought Him a lead heart and a dead bird. “You chose correctly,” said the Lord. “For this little bird will sing forever and ever in My gardens of paradise, and the Happy Prince will give Me praise in My golden city.”

As demonstrated in (ibid), this optimistic ending of the tale contains two intellectual riddles of Oscar Wilde:

1. Why did the angel and God choose (a) the dead Swallow and (b) the heart of the statue as the most valuable thing in the city?

2. What will the Prince praise God for in the golden city?

The clues we found look like this:

1. The angel and God therefore chose

(a) the dead Swallow, that she had a compassionate heart and the life of her heart was real and not imaginary (in particular, she selflessly served the blind Prince);

(b) the lead heart of the Prince - the statue, that the Prince’s desire to make people happy was not influenced by the fact that after parting with the sapphires, he became blind, and by the fact that, having given away all his treasures, he began to look “worse than any beggar.” However, the most significant thing was that thanks to the strong feelings caused by the death of the Swallow, the Prince finally understood the meaning of the real life of the human heart - to reduce the overall level of suffering of living beings on Earth.

2. In the golden city, the Prince will praise God for the fact that, by reviving him in the guise of a statue, God helped the Prince understand the meaning of the real life of the human heart.

3. Optimistic tales of Oscar Wilde

As stated in Section 2, Oscar Wilde's fairy tale “The Happy Prince” has an optimistic ending, which makes the entire tale feel optimistic. By analogy, we will call other tales of Oscar Wilde optimistic if in them God gives an overall positive assessment of the actions of the hero (heroes) (in an explicit or implicit form). It is easy to determine that, in addition to “The Happy Prince,” fairy tales 3, 5, 6, 8 and 9 are also optimistic (the numbering of fairy tales is given in Section 1).

A. Fairy tale “The Egoistic Giant”. At the beginning of the fairy tale under discussion, the egoistic Giant forbade children to walk in his beautiful Garden. With the departure of the children, Winter settled in the Giant's Garden (a manifestation of God's negative attitude towards the hero's actions), who left the Garden as soon as the Giant changed his attitude towards the children (a manifestation of God's positive attitude). At the end of the fairy tale, the Giant met with a little boy: “Once you, the Giant, allowed me, the boy, to play in your garden, and today I will take you to my garden, which is called Paradise.” ...And the next day - it happened in winter - when the children ran into the garden, they found the Giant dead: he was lying under a tree that was all covered in white" (a manifestation of God's positive attitude).

Thus, in the fairy tale under discussion, the taking away (death) and return (resurrection) of the Garden are the punishment and encouragement of the Giant, respectively, for his right and wrong actions, and the Giant received the highest reward (“today I will lead you to my garden, which is called Paradise”) for the fact that in addition to his Garden, he also fell in love with children (“I have many beautiful flowers, but there are no more beautiful flowers in the world than children”).

B. Tale “The Fisherman and His Soul”. At the beginning of the fairy tale under discussion, the young Fisherman is put in a situation of choice: the love of the Virgin of the Sea or the preservation of unity with his own Soul. The fisherman chose the first. However, three years later, resorting to deception, the Soul returned to the Fisherman, but could not find an entrance into his heart, “for it was shrouded in love for the Virgin of the Sea.” After the Fisherman agreed to help the Soul enter his heart, the Sea Maiden dies. Then the Fisherman dies (“Love for you, the Virgin of the Sea, always remained in me, and it was so indestructibly powerful that everything was powerless over it, although I saw both evil and good. And now, when you are dead, I will also die with you"), and the Soul connects with the Fisherman’s heart (“When the Fisherman saw that the end was near, he kissed the cold lips of the sea Maiden with crazy lips, and his heart broke... and the Soul found an entrance there, and entered it, and stood with him , as before, united").

At the end of the tale, the Priest, having discovered the bodies of the Fisherman and the Sea Maiden on the shore, said to the people: “I will not send blessings to the sea and what is in it... Take his body and the body of his beloved and bury them in the Churchyard of the Forsaken... For they were cursed in in life, they will be cursed in death." But three years passed, “and on the feast day the Priest came to the temple to... say... a sermon about the wrath of God. And when he... entered the altar and fell on his face, he saw that the throne was all strewn with flowers, never seen before by anyone.” And under the influence of flowers, instead of preaching “about the wrath of God,” the Priest spoke “about God, whose name is Love. ...And when he finished his word, everyone in the temple burst into tears, and the Priest went into the sacristy, and his eyes were full of tears.” And the Priest asked his assistants: “What are these flowers on the throne and where do they come from? “And they answered him: “What kind of flowers these are, we cannot say, but they are from the Churchyard of the Rejected...”. And the Priest trembled and returned to his house to pray. And in the morning, at dawn... he blessed the sea and the wild creatures that live in it... He gave his blessing to all the creatures of God's world; and the people marveled and rejoiced.”

Thus, in the indicated optimistic ending of the tale, the Priest recognized and fulfilled the will of God, although it contradicted his initial reaction to the love story of the Fisherman and the Sea Maiden.

B. Tale “The Young King”. In the tale under discussion, death is present in the second and third magical dreams of the Young King, which he sees on the eve of his coronation day:

In the second dream, an Arab dies from an arrow from the captain of a galley, which, by order of the Young King, was sent out to search for a pearl for his scepter, and a diver who retrieved pearls from the bottom of the sea (“But the diver’s face was strangely pale, and when he fell on the deck, blood gushed from his ears and nostrils. He shuddered and froze. The blacks shrugged their shoulders and threw the body overboard.");

In the third dream, the people mining rubies for the royal crown were watched from a dark cave by Death and Avarice. Death asked Avarice three times to give one of the three grains that she was holding in her hand, but Avarice refused Death all three times. After the first refusal of Avarice - “Death laughed, and took the cup, and dipped it into the puddle, and from the cup Fever arose. The fever spread through the great multitude of people, and every third fell dead.” After the second - “Death laughed, and picked up a black stone, and threw it into the forest, and from the thickets of wild hemlock, Fever appeared in a fiery robe. She walked around the whole great multitude of people and touched them with her hand, and whoever she touched died.” After the third - “Death laughed, and, putting his fingers in his mouth, whistled, and in response to the whistle a woman flew through the air. “Plague” was written on her brow, and a flock of skinny vultures circled around her. They spread their wings over the valley, and all the people fell dead.”

Thus, from the second and third dreams, the Young King learned that in the “heart of the ruby” and in the “heart of the pearl”, intended to decorate his scepter and crown, were the “Blood” and “Death” of people. Therefore, the next day he decided to abandon the royal attire prepared for him and went to the coronation ceremony in the attire of a shepherd (“However, I do not want either this robe or this crown, but the way I entered the palace is the way I will leave it”). At the end of the tale, “Bowing his head, he, the Young King, prayed, and the clergy silently moved away from the altar in their clumsy robes. And suddenly a terrible noise was heard at the door, and courtiers entered the temple with drawn swords... “Where is this dreamer? - they shouted. - Where is this King, dressed as a beggar, this boy who covered our kingdom with shame? Truly we will kill him, for he is not worthy to rule over us.” And the young King again lowered his head and prayed, and, having finished his prayer, stood up and, turning around, looked sadly at them. And now, through the stained glass windows, sunlight poured onto him and the rays of the sun wove around him a robe more beautiful than what was made for his luxury. The dead staff blossomed, and lilies blossomed on it, which were whiter than pearls. The dry thorn blossomed, and roses blossomed on it, which were redder than rubies... He stood in royal vestments, and the gates of the altar adorned with precious stones opened, and a mysterious, wondrous light poured from the crystal faces of the monstrance... And the people knelt in reverent fear, and the courtiers They sheathed their swords and swore allegiance to him, and the bishop’s face turned pale and his hands trembled. “The one who is taller than me crowned you!” “- he exclaimed and knelt in front of him.” G. Fairy tale “Wonderful Rocket”. The fairy tale under discussion has a complex structure, as it is made up of two different stories: the initial one is an optimistic story about the wedding of the Prince and Princess (“The Prince and Princess sat at the head of the table in the Great Hall and drank from a transparent crystal bowl. Only true lovers could drink from this bowl , for as soon as the lying lips touched it, the crystal became dull, cloudy and gray. “It is absolutely clear that they love each other,” said the little Page. “It is as clear as the crystal of this cup!”), in At the end of the fairy tale text there is a story about the Wonderful Rocket; in the middle of the fairy tale text both of these stories are connected with each other. Since the title of the fairy tale reflects only the second story, we can conclude that the main story in the fairy tale is the story of the Remarkable Rocket. In our opinion, Oscar Wilde needed the first story in order to (a) introduce the usual fairy-tale characters (Prince, Princess, King and Page) into the fairy tale and (b) emphasize the pessimism of the second story: “All participants in the fireworks display were a great success, with the exception of wonderful Rocket. She was so damp from tears that she could not be started.”

Indeed, if from the fairy tale “The Remarkable Rocket” we remove that part of the first story that is not associated with the (main) second story (for example, we begin the fairy tale with the sentence “In a certain state the wedding of a Prince and a Princess was celebrated,” and the rest of the fairy tale text that begins with the sentence “The program of the festivities should have ended with a grandiose fireworks display” should be left unchanged), then the truncated version of the fairy tale will represent an independent complete story. However, in this new story, Rocket’s life story will take on an optimistic tone: despite a number of failures, Rocket still managed to fulfill its destiny of “flying into the sky” (to die in radiance). In the original text of the fairy tale, the life purpose of the Fireworks Lights and the Rocket is not just to “fly up into the sky,” but to do a godly deed - to please the Prince and Princess with their radiance (to die in radiance in the name of a high goal).

D. Fairy tale “Boy Star”. Let us indicate some events from the fairy tale under discussion that testify to God’s chosenness of the Star Boy:

a) When Star Boy was a baby, “a star fell from the sky” and showed the Woodcutters the place in the snow where the Cloak in which he was wrapped was located;

b) Although the Woodcutter told his wife about the heavenly sign, she agreed to take the Star Boy into the house to raise her only after the appearance of the magical “Evil Wind”;

c) When the Star Boy found out that he had lost his beauty, “he threw himself face down on the grass and cried and said: “This is no other way than this is my punishment for my sin.” After all, I renounced my mother and drove her away, I became proud of her and was cruel to her. Now I must go on a quest and travel all over the world until I find her. Until then, I will know neither rest nor peace.” Thus, Star Boy was able to quickly find an explanation for what happened to him (“this is my punishment for my sin”) and understand what to do next (“I must go in search of ...”);

d) When the Star Boy gave the Leper a red gold coin, “his heart sank with anguish, for he knew what a terrible fate awaited him,” but instead his beauty returned to the Star Boy;

e) “And the clergy and nobles bowed their knees before him, the Star Boy, and said: “There was an old prophecy that on this day the one who is destined to rule us will come to us...”;

f) “And the beggar woman put her hand on his head and said: “Get up!” “And the leper put his hand on his head and also said: “Get up!” “And he rose from his knees and looked at them. And what! Before him were the King and Queen";

g) When the Star Boy became the ruler of the city, “he was fair and merciful to everyone. ...And he did not allow anyone to treat birds and forest animals cruelly and taught everyone kindness, love and mercy. And he fed the hungry and the orphans and clothed the naked, and peace and prosperity always reigned in his country.”

The fairy tale under discussion ends with the words “But he, the Star Boy, did not rule for long. His torment was too great, he was subjected to too severe a test - and three years later he died. And his successor was a tyrant,” which come immediately after the fragment of the fairy tale text we cited in paragraph (g).

According to M. Sokolyansky, “this ending, with a specific indication of the duration of the reign of the new king, disharmonious with the main genre setting, is perceived as a kind of epilogue; This epilogue is also not something out of a fairy tale. As for the last phrase about the tyrant successor, it is not plot-motivated, although it suggests serious considerations about the dialectical course of history, it clearly violates the fairy-tale-plot logic. Apparently, the reproaches of a number of critics and researchers that some of the writer’s fairy tales were “made” were not unfounded.”

In our opinion, Oscar Wilde needed this ending (in particular, the message about the death of the Boy Star) in order for the reader to grasp the main idea of ​​the fairy tale: “A person is able to become a good ruler only if he is able to withstand tests that exceed his strength "

4. Pessimistic tales of Oscar Wilde

In Sections 2 and 3 we analyzed the optimistic fairy tales of Oscar Wilde. In this Section we will conduct a semantic analysis of the theme of death in three of his pessimistic tales, that is, those tales in which God does not give (in an explicit or implicit form) a general positive assessment of the actions of the hero (heroes) (see the beginning of Section 3).

A. Tale “The Nightingale and the Rose”. At the beginning of the fairy tale in question, the Student requires a red Rose to get the girl's consent to "dance until dawn", and he cries that he does not have this rose. The Nightingale takes the Student’s tears as a sign of true love and, at the cost of his own life, gets a rose for the Student (“Death is a high price for a red rose... But Love is more expensive than Life, and the heart of some bird is nothing compared to the human heart”). At the end of the fairy tale, the girl did not accept the rose from the Student and he “threw the rose on the ground. Rose fell into a rut and was crushed by a cart wheel. ...What stupidity this Love is,” the Student reflected, returning home. “It doesn’t have half the benefit that Logic has.”

It is stated that the Nightingale “from the very beginning of the tale is spiritually high, which is confirmed by the test that lifts him to unattainable heights.”

In our opinion, (a) all of the Nightingale’s actions aimed at getting a red rose for the Student contradict the content of his own songs (from the Nightingale’s songs it follows that love is a long process and outsiders should not interfere with the “sacraments” of this process) , (b) the love of the Student and the girl did not take place due to the intervention of the Nightingale and (c) precisely for these reasons, the death of the Nightingale did not cause a positive attitude of God towards him.

B. Fairy tale “A Devoted Friend.” At the beginning of the tale under discussion, the Miller wants to get as much benefit as possible from Hans every day; Hans - work in his garden and, with the money raised from selling flowers, buy back the things he pawned in the winter. Thus (ibid),

Hans needs to learn to refuse the Miller's requests (since only in this case will he be able to survive);

The miller needs to learn to see Hans as an equal person (since only in this case will he be able to overcome his passion for fleecing and exploiting the good-natured Hans).

The fairy tale demonstrates that the Miller and Hans themselves are not able to rebuild their usual relationship, and the most revealing thing is when the Miller urgently needs a doctor: “Dear Hans! I'm in big trouble. My little son fell down the stairs and hurt himself, and I’m going after the Doctor. But the Doctor lives so far away, and the night is so bad, that I thought: wouldn’t it be better for you to go get the Doctor instead of me? I’m going to give you a car, and you, in fairness, should repay me a favor for a favor.” Hans needs a lantern: “Of course! It's such an honor that you came straight to me! I'll run after the Doctor right now. Just lend me a lantern. It’s very dark outside, and I’m afraid of falling into the ditch.” The situation is paradoxical: the miller does not give the lantern to Hans (“I would love to give ñ, but I have a new lantern, and what if something happens to it?”), Hans agrees to follow the doctor without a lantern (“It’s okay, I’ll get by and without a lantern!"). At the same time, both understand that without a lantern it is impossible to cope with the “big trouble.” As a result, despite the terrible storm and darkness, Hans reached the Doctor and he went on horseback to the Miller. However, returning home without a lantern, Hans drowned.

After Hans’s death, the Miller became even more stingy (Having returned from Hans’s funeral, the Miller says: “I can already assume that I gave him my car and now I can’t imagine what to do with it: it only takes up space at home, but to sell - they won’t give me anything, she’s so broken. I’ll be more careful in the future. Now no one will get anything from me. Generosity is always to the detriment of a person ").

Thus, the courage shown by Hans did not cause God’s positive attitude towards him because after the indicated feat of Hans, the Miller, for whose sake this feat was performed, became not better, but worse.

Let us add that, in our opinion, the moral of the fairy tale under discussion, which Konoplyanka mentions in conversations with the Water Rat and Mother Duck (see the text of the fairy tale “A Devoted Friend” in), is as follows: “If one of two people does not know how to refuse the other, then the first can turn the second into a monster.”

B. Fairy tale “The Infanta’s Birthday.” In the fairy tale under discussion, in order to find the Infanta, the little Dwarf must go through four large palace halls. Having passed the first hall, the Dwarf overcame his fear of large space and palace luxury; having passed the second - the fear that he felt from the stories of coal miners “about comprachos who hunt only at night, and when they meet a person, they turn him into a deer and give chase to him”; having passed the third, he withstood the temptation of wealth. The following happened in the fourth room:

The dwarf saw “the monster” there and, when he realized that the monster was himself, reflected in the mirror, “he let out a wild cry of despair and fell to the ground in tears: ... he is the monster, and this is over The children made fun of him, and the little Princess, who, as he believed, fell in love with him, also simply mocked his ugliness... Like a wounded animal, the Dwarf crawled into the shadows with a groan.”

Table. A list of the main characters of Oscar Wilde's fairy tales and their main actions.

Fairy tale number	The main characters of the fairy tale ((-) - the hero dies, (+) - the hero remains alive)	The main actions of the main characters of the fairy tale ((+) - positive action, (-) - negative action)
1	Happy Prince (-) Martin (-)	(+) He gave away all his treasures to the needy residents of the city and understood the meaning of the real life of the human heart. (+) Selflessly served the blind Prince;
2	Nightingale (-) Student (+)	(-) Contrary to the content of his own songs, he interfered with the “sacraments” of love. (-) Stated that Logic is higher than Love.
3	Giant (-) Giant's Garden(+) Children (+)	(+) In addition to his Garden, he also fell in love with children. (+) He fell asleep when the Children left him, and woke up with their arrival. (+) The Giant's Garden was brought back to life.
4	Little Hans(-)i Melnik (+)	(-) They failed to rebuild their usual relationships even in the face of “big trouble”.
5	PrincePrincess(+) Fireworks Lights (-) Rocket (-)	(+) Really fell in love with each other. (+) They died in the name of a high goal. (-) Turned out to be unfit to participate in the fireworks display.
6	Young King (+)	(+) He went to the coronation ceremony dressed as a shepherd.
7	Infanta (+) Little Dwarf(-)	(+) She showed natural intelligence, tact, liveliness of character, human dignity, childlike spontaneity and at the same time the ability to restrain emotions when necessary. (-) I couldn’t stand the meeting with my mirror image.
8	Fisherman and the Virgin of the Sea(-) Fisherman's Soul (+)	They drove the Fisherman's Soul out of his body (-) and (+) “indestructibly powerful” fell in love with each other. Resorting to deception (-), (+) returned to the Fisherman's body and was then able to find a way into his heart.
9	Star Boy (-)	(+) Became “just and merciful to everyone.”

5. Identifying the correlation of the binary characteristics of Oscar Wilde’s fairy tales optimistic /pessimistic with the main actions of the heroes and their death

The Table (see the end of Section 4) contains a list of the main characters of Oscar Wilde's fairy tales (for the numbering of fairy tales, see Section 1) and their main actions (see Sections 2 - 4) by which God judges Wilde (or could judge) heroes (gives the heroes (explicit or implicit) a general (positive or negative) assessment). Analyzing the information presented in the Table, we find that the following combinations of characters from its second and third columns are characteristic of Oscar Wilde’s optimistic and pessimistic fairy tales:

a) the optimism of a fairy tale is indicated by the presence in the line of the Table corresponding to this fairy tale of at least one combination of signs “(-) / (+)” or only combinations of the form “(+) / (+)” (the second condition is met only for the fairy tale “ Young King");

b) the pessimism of a fairy tale is indicated by the presence in the line of the Table corresponding to this fairy tale of at least one combination of signs “(-) / (-)” (note that according to this criterion, the second story of Oscar Wilde’s fairy tale “The Remarkable Rocket” (see paragraph G in Section 3) is pessimistic).

Thus, Oscar Wilde’s fairy tales are characterized by a correlation of the binary optimistic/pessimistic characteristic with the main actions of the heroes and their death.

References

1. Langlade J. (1999) Oscar Wilde or the truth of masks / Trans. from fr. M.: JSC “Young Guard”.

2. Reshetov V. G., Valova, O. M. (2000) “The Happy Prince” and other tales about Oscar Wilde. Kirov.

3. Sokolyansky M. G. (1990) Oscar Wilde: Essay on creativity. Kyiv; Odessa: Lybid.

4. Chebrakova M. A. (2004) Study of the general characteristics, structures and mysteries of the texts of Oscar Wilde’s fairy tales. SPb: Publishing house BAN.

5. Wilde O. (1990) Selected / Trans. from English M.: Enlightenment.