Analysis of the story "Sunstroke" by Bunin. Analysis of Bunin's story “Sunstroke Sunstroke Bunin read the full text

After dinner we left the brightly and hotly lit dining room onto the deck and stopped at the railings. She closed her eyes, put her hand to her cheek with her palm outward, laughed with a simple delightful laugh - everything was delightful in this little woman - and said: - I seem to be drunk ... Where did you come from? Three hours ago, I didn't even know you existed. I don't even know where you sat. In Samara? But all the same ... Is my head spinning or are we turning somewhere? There was darkness and lights ahead. From the darkness a strong, soft wind was blowing in the face, and the lights were rushing somewhere to the side: the steamer with the Volga panache was abruptly describing a wide arc, running up to a small pier. The lieutenant took her hand, raised it to his lips. The hand, small and strong, smelled of tan. And blissfully and terribly her heart sank at the thought of how strong and dark she was, probably, under this light canvas dress after a whole month of lying under the southern sun, on the hot sea sand (she said that she was coming from Anapa). The lieutenant muttered:- Let's get off ... - Where? She asked in surprise. “On this pier.- Why? He said nothing. She put her hand back to her hot cheek again. - Crazy ... “Let's get off,” he repeated dully. - I beg you... “Oh, do as you please,” she said, turning away. The scattered steamer hit the dimly lit pier with a soft thud, and they nearly fell on top of each other. The end of the rope flew overhead, then it flew backwards, and the water boiled with a noise, the gangway rattled ... The lieutenant rushed to get his things. A minute later they passed the sleepy office, went out into the deep sand, up to the hub, and silently sat down in the dusty cab. The gentle uphill climb, among the rare crooked lanterns, along the road soft with dust, seemed endless. But then they got up, drove out and crackled along the pavement, here was some kind of square, public places, watchtower, the warmth and smells of a night summer county town ... a footman in a pink shirt and a frock coat took his things with displeasure and walked forward on his trampled feet. We entered a large, but terribly stuffy room, hotly heated by the sun during the day, with white lowered curtains on the windows and two unburned candles on the mirror, and as soon as they entered and the footman closed the door, the lieutenant rushed to her so impetuously and both of them gasped in a kiss so frenziedly that for many years they remembered this moment later: neither one nor the other had ever experienced anything like this in their entire life. At ten o'clock in the morning, sunny, hot, happy, with the ringing of churches, with a bazaar on the square in front of the hotel, with the smell of hay, tar and again all that complex and smelly smell of the Russian district town, she, this little nameless woman, and without telling her name, jokingly calling herself a beautiful stranger, she left. We slept little, but in the morning, coming out from behind the screen by the bed, having washed and dressed in five minutes, she was as fresh as at seventeen. Was she embarrassed? No, very little. She was still simple, cheerful and - already reasonable. - No, no, dear, - she said in response to his request to go on together, - no, you must stay until the next steamer. If we go together, everything will be ruined. It will be very unpleasant for me. I give you my word of honor that I am not at all what you might think of me. Nothing even similar to what happened has never happened to me, and there will never be any more. I was definitely eclipsed ... Or rather, we both got something like a sunstroke ... And the lieutenant somehow easily agreed with her. In a light and happy spirit, he drove her to the dock, just in time for the departure of the pink Airplane, kissed her in front of everyone on deck and barely had time to jump onto the gangway, which had already moved back. He returned to the hotel just as easily, carelessly. However, something has changed. The number without her seemed somehow completely different than it was with her. He was still full of her - and empty. It was weird! She also smelled of good English cologne, her unfinished cup was still on the tray, but she was gone ... And the lieutenant's heart suddenly sank with such tenderness that the lieutenant hurried to smoke and walked up and down the room several times. - A strange adventure! He said aloud, laughing and feeling that tears were pouring into his eyes. - "I give you my word of honor that I am not at all what you might have thought ..." And I already left ... The screen had been pushed aside, the bed had not yet been made. And he felt that he simply did not have the strength to look at this bed now. He closed it with a screen, shut the windows so as not to hear the bazaar talk and squeak of wheels, pulled down the white bubbling curtains, sat down on the sofa ... Yes, this is the end of this "road adventure"! She left - and now she is already far away, sits, probably, in a glass white saloon or on the deck and looks at the huge river, shining under the sun, at the oncoming rafts, at the yellow shallows, at the shining distance of water and sky, at all this immense Volga expanse. .. And I'm sorry, and already forever, forever ... Because where can they meet now? “I can't,” he thought, “I can't come to this city for no reason at all, where is her husband, where is her three-year-old girl, in general her whole family and her whole ordinary life!” - And this city seemed to him some kind of special, reserved city, and the thought that she would live her lonely life in it, often, perhaps, remembering him, remembering their accidental, such a fleeting meeting, and he already never see her, the thought amazed and startled him. No, it can't be! It would be too wild, unnatural, incredible! - And he felt such pain and such uselessness of his entire future life without her that he was seized by horror, despair. "What the hell! - he thought, getting up, again starting to walk around the room and trying not to look at the bed behind the screen. - What is it with me? And what is special about it and what actually happened? Indeed, it’s like some kind of sunstroke! And most importantly, how can I now, without her, spend the whole day in this backwater? " He still remembered all of her, with all her slightest peculiarities, he remembered the smell of her tan and gingham dress, her strong body, the lively, simple and cheerful sound of her voice ... , but now the main thing was still this second, completely new feeling - that strange, incomprehensible feeling that did not exist at all while they were together, which he could not even imagine in himself, starting yesterday, as he thought, only funny acquaintance, and about which it was already impossible to tell her now! “And the main thing,” he thought, “you can never tell again! And what to do, how to live this endless day, with these memories, with this insoluble torment, in this godforsaken town above the same shining Volga, along which this pink steamer carried her! " I had to save myself, occupy something, distract myself, go somewhere. He resolutely put on his cap, took a stack, quickly walked, jingling his spurs, along the empty corridor, ran down the steep stairs to the entrance ... Yes, but where to go? At the entrance stood a young cab, in a dexterous coat, and calmly smoked a cigarette. The lieutenant looked at him in bewilderment and amazement: how is it possible to sit so calmly on the box, smoke and generally be simple, careless, indifferent? “I’m probably the only one so terribly unhappy in this whole city,” he thought as he walked towards the bazaar. The bazaar was already leaving. For some reason, he walked through the fresh manure among carts, among carts with cucumbers, among new bowls and pots, and the women sitting on the ground, vying with each other, called him, took the pots in their hands and knocked, jingled their fingers in them, showing their good quality, men deafened him, shouted to him: "Here are the first sort of cucumbers, your honor!" All this was so stupid, absurd that he fled from the market. He went to the cathedral, where they were already singing loudly, cheerfully and decisively, with the consciousness of a fulfilled duty, then he walked for a long time, circled around the small, hot and neglected garden on the cliff of the mountain, over the immense light-steel width of the river ... it was so hot that it was impossible to touch them. The peg of the cap was wet with sweat inside, his face was flushed ... Returning to the hotel, he delightedly entered the large and empty cool dining room on the ground floor, took off his cap with delight and sat down at a table near the open window, which carried heat, but that was all. - the air was still blowing, I ordered botvinya with ice ... Everything was fine, there was immeasurable happiness in everything, great joy; even in this heat and in all the smells of the bazaar, in this whole unfamiliar town and in this old district hotel, there was she, this joy, and at the same time, my heart was simply torn to pieces. He drank several glasses of vodka, nibbling on lightly salted cucumbers with dill and feeling that he, without hesitation, would die tomorrow, if it were possible by some miracle to return her, spend another day with her, - spend only then, only then, in order to express to her and prove something to her, to convince how painfully and enthusiastically he loves her ... Why prove? Why convince? He didn't know why, but it was more necessary than life. - The nerves have completely cleared up! - he said, pouring the fifth glass of vodka. He pushed the botvinya away from him, asked for black coffee and began to smoke and think intensely: what should he do now, how to get rid of this sudden, unexpected love? But to get rid - he felt it too vividly - was impossible. And suddenly he quickly got up again, took the cap and the stack and, asking where the post office was, hurriedly went there with the phrase of the telegram already ready in his head: "From now on, my whole life is forever, to the grave, yours, in your power." But when he reached an old thick-walled house where there was a post office and a telegraph office, he stopped in horror: he knew the city where she lived, knew that she had a husband and a three-year-old daughter, but did not know her last name or her first name! He asked her about this several times yesterday at dinner and at the hotel, and each time she laughed and said: - Why do you need to know who I am, what is my name? On the corner, near the post office, there was a photographic display case. He looked for a long time at a large portrait of some military man in thick epaulettes, with bulging eyes, with a low forehead, with amazingly magnificent sideburns and the broadest chest, completely decorated with orders ... yes, amazed, he understood it now - with this terrible "sunstroke", too much love, too much happiness! He glanced at the newlyweds - a young man in a long frock coat and a white tie, cropped by a hedgehog, stretched out to the front under the arm with a girl in a wedding gas, - turned his eyes to a portrait of some pretty and perky young lady in a student cap on one side ... Then, languishing with agonizing envy of all these unknown to him, not suffering people, he began to stare intently along the street. - Where to go? What to do? The street was completely empty. The houses were all the same, white, two-story, merchant houses, with large gardens, and it seemed that there was not a soul in them; thick white dust lay on the pavement; and all this was blinding, everything was flooded with hot, fiery and joyful, but here it was like an aimless sun. In the distance, the street rose, hunched over and rested against the cloudless, grayish, with a reflection of the sky. There was something southern about it, reminiscent of Sevastopol, Kerch ... Anapa. This was especially unbearable. And the lieutenant, with his head bowed, squinting from the light, staring intently at his feet, staggering, stumbling, clinging to the spur with his spur, walked back. He returned to the hotel so overwhelmed with fatigue, as if he had made a huge trek somewhere in Turkestan, in the Sahara. He, gathering his last strength, entered his large and empty room. The room had already been tidied up, devoid of the last traces of her — only one hairpin, which she had forgotten, lay on the night table! He took off his tunic and looked at himself in the mirror: his face — an ordinary officer’s face, gray with sunburn, with whitish mustache faded from the sun and bluish whiteness of eyes that seemed even whiter from the sun — now had an excited, crazy expression, and in a thin white shirt with a standing starched collar, there was something youthful and deeply unhappy. He lay on his back on the bed, put his dusty boots on the dump. The windows were open, the curtains were lowered, and a light breeze from time to time blew them in, blew into the room with the heat of heated iron roofs and all this luminous and now completely empty, silent Volga world. He lay with his hands under the back of his head and gazed in front of him. Then he gritted his teeth, closed his eyelids, feeling the tears roll down his cheeks - and finally fell asleep, and when he opened his eyes again, the evening sun was already turning reddish yellow behind the curtains. The wind died down, the room was stuffy and dry, like in an oven ... Both yesterday and this morning were remembered as if they were ten years ago. He slowly got up, slowly washed, lifted the curtains, rang the bell and asked for the samovar and the bill, drank tea with lemon for a long time. Then he ordered a cabman to be brought in, carry out his things, and, sitting down in the cab, on its red, burnt-out seat, he gave the footman five rubles. - And it seems, your honor, that it was me who brought you at night! Said the cabby cheerfully, taking hold of the reins. When we went down to the pier, a blue summer night was already blue over the Volga, and already many colored lights were scattered along the river, and the lights hung on the masts of the approaching steamer. - Delivered exactly! - said the cabby ingratiatingly. The lieutenant gave him five rubles, took a ticket, went to the pier ... Just like yesterday, there was a soft knock on her pier and a slight dizziness from unsteadiness underfoot, then a flying end, the sound of water boiling and running forward under the wheels a little back a steamer ... And it seemed unusually welcoming, it seemed good from the crowds of this steamer, already everywhere lit and smelling of kitchen. A minute later they ran further, up, to the same place where she had been carried away this morning. The dark summer dawn was dying away far ahead, gloomy, sleepy and multi-colored reflected in the river, still here and there shining with trembling ripples in the distance below it, under this dawn, and the lights, scattered in the darkness around, floated and floated back. The lieutenant was sitting under a canopy on the deck, feeling ten years older. Alps-Maritimes, 1925.

Ivan Bunin's story "Sunstroke" is surprising and original in its own way. At first glance, the storyline is pretty common. But this is only at first glance. There is hardly a work more subtly organized than Sunstroke. Bunin analyzes in it problems of a personal nature: moments of choice that affect the future fate of a person. The heroes make their choice and find themselves far from each other.

"Sunstroke" (Bunin): a summary

During the trip, a military man - a lieutenant and a young woman - a stranger meet on the ship. The author does not endow her with a name, however, as well as the lieutenant. They are just people, their history is not at all unique, similar to many of those that happen. The couple spend the night together. The young woman is embarrassed, but she does not regret what happened. She just needs to go, and it is time for him to get off the ship. The lieutenant easily releases the woman, escorts her to the pier and returns to his room. Here is his scent of her perfume, an unfinished cup of coffee that they forgot to put away, the memories of last night are still alive.

The lieutenant's heart is suddenly filled with a touching feeling, which he cannot accept and tries to drown out attempts to continuously smoke cigarettes. As if seeking salvation from the impending tenderness, he rushes into the city, mindlessly wanders the market, passes among people and feels When an inexpressible feeling prevents him from thinking, thinking sensibly and reasoning, he decides to send her a telegram, but on the way to the post office he realizes that he does not know neither the name, nor the surname of the woman, nor her address. Returning to his room, he feels ten years older. The lieutenant already understands that they will never meet again.

This is a very capacious content of the story, although it is rather short. Bunin's "Sunstroke", as retelled, will allow high school students to better prepare for literature lessons. The information may be useful for students of teacher training colleges, as well as for those who are studying in universities.

What is the story "Sunstroke" about?

Bunin's work "Sunstroke" tells about the unexpected love that overtakes the main characters (the lieutenant and the stranger) while traveling by ship. Both of them are not ready for the feeling that has arisen.

Moreover, they have absolutely no time to figure it out: there is only one day, which decides the outcome of events. When the time comes to say goodbye, the lieutenant cannot even think about what torments he will experience after the young woman leaves his cozy room. Precisely before his eyes, a whole life passes, which is measured, and is now estimated from the height of yesterday's night and the feeling that bewitched the lieutenant.

Story composition

The story can be conditionally divided into three parts, containing different semantic load: the first part is the moment when the lieutenant and the stranger are together. Both are confused, somewhat confused.

The second compositional part: the moment of parting between the lieutenant and the young woman. The third part is the moment of awakening a tender feeling, which is difficult to cope with. The author very subtly shows the moments of transition from one compositional part to another, while the center of the narrative gradually becomes the state of the main character - the lieutenant.

Ideological component of the story

The meeting between the lieutenant and the stranger became for both of them akin to a real sunstroke, brought blindness with passion, and then a bitter epiphany. This is what Bunin is talking about. The book "Sunstroke" is fanned with a romantic beginning, tells about everyone's need to love and be loved, but at the same time it is absolutely devoid of illusions. Perhaps the young men will see here the heroes' desire to find their only love, but rather, this is an attempt to give up love in favor of common sense: “I had to be saved ...” “This new feeling was too much happiness,” which, obviously, the heroes could not afford , otherwise it would be necessary to change the entire established way of life, make some changes in oneself and change the environment.

The state of a stranger

Bunin draws the image of a young woman whom the lieutenant meets on the ship without embellishment and does not endow her with special characteristics. She has no name - she is just a woman with whom a certain lieutenant spent the night.

But the author very subtly emphasizes her experiences, anxieties and worries. The woman says, "I am not at all what you would imagine me to be." Perhaps she was looking for in this fleeting connection the need to love and be loved. Perhaps for her everything that happened is nothing more than an accident, a surprise. She must have not received enough warmth and attention in her married life (which is mentioned in the story). We see that the stranger does not make any plans, does not oblige the lieutenant in anything. That is why she does not consider it necessary to give her name. It is bitter and painful for her to leave, leaving the lieutenant forever, but she does it, obeying her intuition. She subconsciously already knows that their relationship will not end well.

The state of the lieutenant

As shown in the story, the protagonist was probably not ready at first to appreciate the feeling that arose for the unfamiliar woman. Therefore, he so easily lets her go from himself, believing that nothing binds them.

Only when he returns to his room, he feels the signs of the beginning "fever" and realizes that it cannot be avoided. He no longer belongs to himself, he is not free. He was suddenly influenced in an incredible way by the atmosphere of the room in which they spent the night together: "there was still an unfinished cup of coffee on the table, there was still an unmade bed, but it was gone." The lieutenant cannot accept this feeling, in every possible way pushes it away from himself, almost reaches a frenzy.

The lieutenant's metamorphosis and its meaning

The way his state of mind changes, speaks of the awakening power of feelings. Perhaps the lieutenant, a military man, could not even imagine that some fleeting meeting with a woman would turn his whole system of values upside down, make him rethink the significance of life and rediscover its meaning for himself. The theme of love as the greatest mystery that knows no compromises is revealed in the story "Sunstroke". Bunin analyzes the state of his hero, emphasizes confusion and despair, as well as the bitterness with which he tries to suppress the awakening feeling of love in himself. In this unequal battle, it is rather difficult to win. The lieutenant is defeated and feels tired, ten years older.

The main idea of the story

Obviously, with his work, the author wanted to show the dramatic outcome of love. Meanwhile, each of us is always free to choose how to act in a particular difficult situation. The lieutenant and his lady were simply not ready to accept the generous gift of fate, therefore they preferred to leave, having barely met. And it’s difficult to call it an acquaintance - they didn’t tell each other their names, didn’t exchange addresses.

Most likely, their meeting was only an attempt to drown out the disturbing voice of a yearning heart. As you might guess, the heroes are unhappy in their personal lives and are very lonely, despite the existence of a marriage. They did not leave each other addresses, did not give their names because they did not want to continue the relationship. This is the main idea of the story "Sunstroke". Bunin analyzes and compares the heroes, which of them is no longer ready for a new life, but as a result, it turns out that both show considerable cowardice.

Theatrical performances and cinema

This work was filmed more than once, and also played on the stage of the theater, the situation that Bunin described in the story "Sunstroke" is so amazing. Mikhalkov shot the film of the same name in Bouvray. The performance of the actors is amazing, extremely conveys the feelings of the characters and their inner pain, which sounds like a heavy chord from beginning to end.

Probably, there is no other such work that would cause such ambivalent feelings as "Sunstroke". Bunin, reviews of this story (very contradictory) confirm this, described a situation that leaves few people indifferent. Someone regrets the main characters and believes that they certainly needed to find each other, others are sure that such meetings between a man and a woman should remain a secret, an unattainable dream and have nothing to do with reality. Who knows whether it is worth believing a sudden passion or whether you need to look for the reason deep in yourself? Maybe all "love" is just an ecstatic fantasy inherent in youth?

Ivan Bunin "Sunstroke" and the school curriculum

I would like to note that this story is included in the school curriculum of compulsory study in literature and is intended for older students - children of sixteen to seventeen years old. As a rule, at this age, the work is perceived in pink tones, appears before young people as a story of great love. For older people and old enough, the work suddenly opens up from the other side and makes them think about the question of how much we are ready to accept love in life and how we do it. The fact is that in adolescence it seems that love in itself is capable of conquering any obstacles. By the age of twenty-five or thirty, the understanding comes that in life nothing is given for free, and such a feeling as love must be protected with all the forces of the soul and heart.

An unforgettably strong piece - "Sunstroke". Bunin analyzes in it a person's ability to accept love in the special circumstances of life and how the heroes cope with this task shows that in most cases people are not able to recognize it at the very beginning and take responsibility for the development of relationships. This kind of love is doomed.

This is what Bunin is talking about in his work "Sunstroke". The summary allows you to determine the subject of the story, its compositional and ideological component. If you are interested in this description, we recommend that you turn to reading. "Sunstroke" is undoubtedly one of those works that leave a feeling of slight sadness after reading and linger in the memory for a long time.

I seem to be drunk ... Where did you come from? Three hours ago, I didn't even know you existed. I don't even know where you sat. In Samara? But all the same ... Is my head spinning or are we turning somewhere?

There was darkness and lights ahead. From the darkness a strong, soft wind was blowing in the face, and the lights were rushing somewhere to the side: the steamer with the Volga panache was abruptly describing a wide arc, running up to a small pier.

The lieutenant took her hand, raised it to his lips. The hand, small and strong, smelled of tan. And blissfully and terribly her heart sank at the thought of how strong and dark she was, probably, under this light canvas dress after a whole month of lying under the southern sun, on the hot sea sand (she said that she was coming from Anapa). The lieutenant muttered:

Let's get off ...

Where to? she asked in surprise.

On this pier.

He said nothing. She put her hand back to her hot cheek again.

Madness...

Let’s get off, ”he repeated dully.“ I beg you ...

Oh, do as you like, ”she said, turning away.

The scattered steamer hit the dimly lit pier with a soft thud, and they nearly fell on top of each other. The end of the rope flew overhead, then it flew backwards, and the water boiled with a noise, the gangway rattled ... The lieutenant rushed to get his things.

A minute later they passed the sleepy office, went out into the deep sand, up to the hub, and silently sat down in the dusty cab. The gentle uphill climb, among the rare crooked lanterns, along the road soft with dust, seemed endless. But then they got up, drove out and crackled along the pavement, here was some kind of square, public places, watchtower, the warmth and smells of a night summer county town ... a footman in a pink shirt and a frock coat took his things with displeasure and walked forward on his trampled feet. We entered a large, but terribly stuffy room, hotly heated by the sun during the day, with white lowered curtains on the windows and two unburned candles on the mirror, and as soon as they entered and the footman closed the door, the lieutenant rushed to her so impetuously and both of them gasped in a kiss so frenziedly that for many years they remembered this moment later: neither one nor the other had ever experienced anything like this in their entire life.

At ten o'clock in the morning, sunny, hot, happy, with the ringing of churches, with a bazaar on the square in front of the hotel, with the smell of hay, tar and again all that complex and smelly smell of the Russian district town, she, this little nameless woman, and without telling her name, jokingly calling herself a beautiful stranger, she left. We slept little, but in the morning, coming out from behind the screen by the bed, having washed and dressed in five minutes, she was as fresh as at seventeen. Was she embarrassed? No, very little. She was still simple, cheerful and - already reasonable.

No, no, dear, - she said in response to his request to go on together, - no, you must stay until the next steamer. If we go together, everything will be ruined. It will be very unpleasant for me. I give you my word of honor that I am not at all what you might think of me. Nothing even similar to what happened has never happened to me, and there will never be any more. I was definitely eclipsed ... Or rather, we both got something like a sunstroke ...

And the lieutenant somehow easily agreed with her. In a light and happy spirit, he drove her to the dock, just in time for the departure of the pink Airplane, kissed her in front of everyone on deck and barely had time to jump onto the gangway, which had already moved back.

He returned to the hotel just as easily, carelessly. However, something has changed. The number without her seemed somehow completely different than it was with her. He was still full of her - and empty. It was weird! She also smelled of good English cologne, her unfinished cup was still on the tray, but she was gone ... And the lieutenant's heart suddenly sank with such tenderness that the lieutenant hurried to smoke and walked up and down the room several times.

A strange adventure! - he said aloud, laughing and feeling that tears were pouring into his eyes. - "I give you my word of honor that I am not at all what you might think ..." And I already left ...

The screen had been pushed aside, the bed had not yet been made. And he felt that he simply did not have the strength to look at this bed now. He closed it with a screen, shut the windows so as not to hear the bazaar talk and squeak of wheels, pulled down the white bubbling curtains, sat down on the sofa ... Yes, this is the end of this "road adventure"! She left - and now she is already far away, sits, probably, in a glass white saloon or on the deck and looks at the huge river, shining under the sun, at the oncoming rafts, at the yellow shallows, at the shining distance of water and sky, at all this immense Volga expanse. .. And I'm sorry, and already forever, forever ... Because where can they meet now? “I can't,” he thought, “I can't come to this city for no reason at all, where is her husband, where is her three-year-old girl, in general her whole family and her whole ordinary life!” And this city seemed to him some kind of special, reserved city, and the thought that she would live her lonely life in it, often, perhaps, remembering him, remembering their accidental, such a fleeting meeting, and he never will not see her, the thought amazed and amazed him. No, it can't be! It would be too wild, unnatural, incredible! And he felt such pain and such uselessness of his entire future life without her that he was seized by horror, despair.

"What the hell! - he thought, getting up, again starting to walk around the room and trying not to look at the bed behind the screen. - But what is it with me? And what is special about it and what actually happened? Indeed, it’s like some kind of sunstroke! And most importantly, how can I now, without her, spend the whole day in this backwater? "

He still remembered all of her, with all her slightest peculiarities, he remembered the smell of her tan and gingham dress, her strong body, the lively, simple and cheerful sound of her voice ... , but now the main thing was still this second, completely new feeling - that strange, incomprehensible feeling, which he could not even imagine in himself, starting yesterday this, as he thought, only an amusing acquaintance, and about which it was no longer possible to tell her now! “And the main thing,” he thought, “you can never tell again! And what to do, how to live this endless day, with these memories, with this insoluble torment, in this God-forsaken town above the very shining Volga, along which this pink steamer took her! "

I had to save myself, occupy something, distract myself, go somewhere. He resolutely put on his cap, took a stack, quickly walked, jingling his spurs, along the empty corridor, ran down the steep stairs to the entrance ... Yes, but where to go? At the entrance stood a young cab, in a dexterous coat, and calmly smoked a cigarette. The lieutenant looked at him in bewilderment and amazement: how is it possible to sit so calmly on the box, smoke and generally be simple, careless, indifferent? “Probably, I am the only one so terribly unhappy in this whole city,” he thought, walking towards the bazaar.

The bazaar was already leaving. For some reason, he walked through the fresh manure among carts, among carts with cucumbers, among new bowls and pots, and the women sitting on the ground, vying with each other, called him, took the pots in their hands and knocked, jingled their fingers in them, showing their good quality, men deafened him, shouted to him: "Here are the first sort of cucumbers, your honor!" All this was so stupid, absurd that he fled from the market. He went to the cathedral, where they were already singing loudly, cheerfully and decisively, with the consciousness of a fulfilled duty, then he walked for a long time, circled around the small, hot and neglected garden on the cliff of the mountain, over the immense light-steel width of the river ... it was so hot that it was impossible to touch them. The peg of the cap was wet with sweat inside, his face was flushed ... Returning to the hotel, he delightedly entered the large and empty cool dining room on the ground floor, took off his cap with delight and sat down at a table near the open window, which carried heat, but that was all. - the air was still blowing, I ordered botvinya with ice ... Everything was fine, there was immeasurable happiness in everything, great joy; even in this heat and in all the smells of the bazaar, in this whole unfamiliar town and in this old district hotel, there was she, this joy, and at the same time, my heart was simply torn to pieces. He drank several glasses of vodka, nibbling on lightly salted cucumbers with dill and feeling that he, without hesitation, would die tomorrow, if it were possible by some miracle to return her, spend one more day with her, - spend only then, only then, in order to express to her and prove with something, to convince how painfully and enthusiastically he loves her ... Why prove? Why convince? He didn't know why, but it was more necessary than life.

Nerves have completely cleared up! - he said, pouring the fifth glass of vodka.

He pushed the botvinya away from him, asked for black coffee and began to smoke and think intensely: what should he do now, how to get rid of this sudden, unexpected love? But to get rid - he felt it too vividly - was impossible. And suddenly he quickly got up again, took the cap and the stack and, asking where the post office was, hurriedly went there with the phrase of the telegram already ready in his head: "From now on, my whole life is forever, to the grave, yours, in your power." But when he reached an old thick-walled house where there was a post office and a telegraph office, he stopped in horror: he knew the city where she lived, knew that she had a husband and a three-year-old daughter, but did not know her last name or her first name! He asked her about this several times yesterday at dinner and at the hotel, and each time she laughed and said:

Why do you need to know who I am, what is my name?

On the corner, near the post office, there was a photographic display case. He looked for a long time at a large portrait of some military man in thick epaulettes, with bulging eyes, with a low forehead, with amazingly magnificent sideburns and the broadest chest, completely decorated with orders ... yes, amazed, he understood it now - with this terrible "sunstroke", too much love, too much happiness! He glanced at the newlyweds - a young man in a long frock coat and a white tie, cropped by a hedgehog, stretched out to the front under the arm with a girl in a wedding gas, - turned his eyes to a portrait of some pretty and perky young lady in a student cap on one side ... Then, languishing with agonizing envy of all these unknown to him, not suffering people, he began to stare intently along the street.

Where to go? What to do?

The street was completely empty. The houses were all the same, white, two-story, merchant houses, with large gardens, and it seemed that there was not a soul in them; thick white dust lay on the pavement; and all this was blinding, everything was flooded with hot, fiery and joyful, but here it was like an aimless sun. In the distance, the street rose, hunched over and rested against the cloudless, grayish, with a reflection of the sky. There was something southern about it, reminiscent of Sevastopol, Kerch ... Anapa. This was especially unbearable. And the lieutenant, with his head bowed, squinting from the light, staring intently at his feet, staggering, stumbling, clinging to the spur with his spur, walked back.

He returned to the hotel so overwhelmed with fatigue, as if he had made a huge trek somewhere in Turkestan, in the Sahara. He, gathering his last strength, entered his large and empty room. The room had already been tidied up, devoid of the last traces of her — only one hairpin, which she had forgotten, lay on the night table! He took off his tunic and looked at himself in the mirror: his face, - an ordinary officer's face, gray with sunburn, with whitish mustache faded from the sun and bluish whiteness of eyes that seemed even whiter from the sun - now had an excited, crazy expression, and in a thin white shirt with a standing starched collar, there was something youthful and deeply unhappy. He lay on his back on the bed, put his dusty boots on the dump. The windows were open, the curtains were lowered, and a light breeze from time to time blew them in, blew into the room with the heat of heated iron roofs and all this luminous and now completely empty, silent Volga world. He lay with his hands under the back of his head and gazed in front of him. Then he gritted his teeth, closed his eyelids, feeling the tears roll down his cheeks - and finally fell asleep, and when he opened his eyes again, the evening sun was already turning reddish yellow behind the curtains. The wind died down, the room was stuffy and dry, like in an oven ... Both yesterday and this morning were remembered as if they had been ten years ago.

He slowly got up, slowly washed, lifted the curtains, rang the bell and asked for the samovar and the bill, drank tea with lemon for a long time. Then he ordered a cabman to be brought in, carry out his things, and, sitting down in the cab, on its red, burnt-out seat, he gave the footman five rubles.

And it seems, your honor, that it was I who brought you at night! - said the cabby cheerfully, taking hold of the reins.

When we went down to the pier, a blue summer night was already blue over the Volga, and already many colored lights were scattered along the river, and the lights hung on the masts of the approaching steamer.

Delivered exactly! - said the cabby ingratiatingly.

The lieutenant gave him five rubles, took a ticket, went to the pier ... Just like yesterday, there was a soft knock on her pier and a slight dizziness from unsteadiness underfoot, then a flying end, the sound of water boiling and running forward under the wheels a little back a steamer ... And it seemed unusually welcoming, it seemed good from the crowds of this steamer, already everywhere lit and smelling of kitchen.

The dark summer dawn was dying away far ahead, gloomy, sleepy and multi-colored reflected in the river, still here and there shining with trembling ripples in the distance below it, under this dawn, and the lights, scattered in the darkness around, floated and floated back.

The lieutenant was sitting under a canopy on the deck, feeling ten years older.

Alps-Maritimes.

They meet in the summer, on one of the Volga steamers. He is a lieutenant, She is a lovely, small, tanned woman returning home from Anapa.

I'm completely drunk, ”she laughed. - Actually, I'm completely crazy. Three hours ago, I didn't even know you existed.

The lieutenant kisses her hand, and his heart stops blissfully and terribly.

The steamer approaches the pier, the lieutenant begs her to get off. A minute later they go to the hotel and rent a large, but stuffy room. As soon as the footman closes the door behind him, both of them merge so frenziedly in a kiss that then for many years they remember this moment: none of them has ever experienced anything like it.

And in the morning this little nameless woman, jokingly calling herself "a beautiful stranger" and "Princess Marya Morevna", leaves. Despite an almost sleepless night, she is as fresh as at seventeen, a little embarrassed, still simple, cheerful, and already sensible: she asks the lieutenant to stay until the next steamer.

Nothing even similar to what happened has never happened to me, and there will never be any more. I was definitely eclipsed ... Or rather, we both got something like a sunstroke ...

And the lieutenant somehow easily agrees with her, takes her to the pier, gets on the ship and kisses in front of everyone on the deck.

He easily and carelessly returns to the hotel, but the room seems to the lieutenant for some other. It is still full of it - and empty. The lieutenant's heart suddenly squeezes with such tenderness that there is no strength to look at the unmade bed - and he closes it with a screen. He thinks this sweet "road trip" is over. He cannot “come to this city, where her husband, her three-year-old girl, in general her whole ordinary life”.

The thought amazes him. He feels such pain and the uselessness of his entire future life without her that he is seized with horror and despair. The lieutenant begins to believe that this is really a "sunstroke" and does not know "how to live this endless day, with these memories, with this insoluble torment."

The lieutenant goes to the bazaar, to the cathedral, then circles for a long time in the abandoned garden, but nowhere does he find comfort and deliverance from this uninvited feeling.

How wild, how absurd is everything everyday, ordinary, when the heart is struck by this terrible "sunstroke", too much love, too much happiness.

Returning to the hotel, the lieutenant orders lunch. All is well, but he knows that he would die tomorrow without hesitation, if it were possible by some miracle to return the "beautiful stranger" and prove how painfully and enthusiastically he loves her. He does not know why, but this is more necessary for him than life.

Realizing that it is impossible to get rid of this unexpected love, the lieutenant decisively goes to the post office with a telegram already written, but stops at the post office in horror - he does not know her name or surname! The lieutenant returns to the hotel completely broken, lies down on the bed, closes his eyes, feeling tears rolling down his cheeks, and finally falls asleep.

The lieutenant wakes up in the evening. He remembers yesterday and this morning as a distant past. He gets up, washes, drinks tea with lemon for a long time, pays for the room and goes to the pier.

The steamer leaves at night. The lieutenant sits under a canopy on the deck, feeling ten years older.

The story "Sunstroke" by Bunin was written in 1925, published a year later in "Sovremennye zapiski". The book describes a fleeting romance between the lieutenant and a young married lady, who met while traveling on a motor ship.

main characters

Lieutenant- a young man, impressionable and ardent.

Stranger Is a young, beautiful woman who has a husband and a three-year-old daughter.

During a trip on one of the Volga steamers, the lieutenant meets a beautiful stranger who is returning home after a vacation in Anapa. She does not reveal her name to a new acquaintance, and each time she responds to his insistent requests with "a simple lovely laugh."

The lieutenant is amazed at the beauty and natural charm of his fellow traveler. In his heart ardent, passionate feelings flare up. Unable to restrain them in himself, he makes the woman a very unequivocal offer to go ashore. Suddenly, she easily and naturally agrees.

At the very first stop, they go down the ladder of the motor ship and find themselves on the pier of a small provincial town. Silently they go to a local hotel, where they rent "a terribly stuffy room, hotly heated by the sun during the day."

Without saying a word to each other, they “so frenziedly suffocated in the kiss” that in the future they will remember this sweet, breathtaking moment for many years to come.

The next morning, the "little nameless woman," quickly dressed and regaining her lost prudence, prepares to go. She admits that she had never been in a similar situation before, and for her this sudden outburst of passion is like an eclipse, a "sunstroke".

The woman asks the lieutenant not to board the ship with her, but to wait for the next voyage. Otherwise, "everything will be spoiled," and she wants to remember only this accidental night in a provincial hotel.

The man easily agrees and escorts his companion to the pier, after which he returns to the room. However, at that moment he realizes that something in his life has changed dramatically. Trying to find the reason for this change, he gradually comes to the conclusion that he was head over heels in love with the woman with whom he spent the night.

He rushes about, not knowing what to do with himself in a provincial town. The sound of a stranger's voice is still fresh in his memory, "the smell of her tan and gingham dress", the outlines of her strong elastic body. To distract himself a little, the lieutenant goes for a walk, but this does not calm him down. Suddenly, he decides to write a telegram to his beloved, but at the last moment he remembers that he does not know "neither her last name, nor her first name." All he knows about the stranger is that she has a husband and a three-year-old daughter.

Exhausted by mental anguish, the lieutenant sits on the evening ship. It fits comfortably on deck and admires the river scenery, "feeling ten years older."