Kuprin in the bowels of the earth analysis. In the bowels of the earth

We continue to acquaint you with the lessons of speech development, the publication of which will begin in August 2003.

Topic. "AI Kuprin." In the bowels of the Earth "(excerpt). Change of the perfect and imperfect verbs by tenses. Generalization of knowledge about the verb as a part of speech".

Goals. Continue developing students' skills in working with text; develop the ability to change the verb by tenses, taking into account the question to which he answers (taking into account the type); improve knowledge of the verb, the ability to use verbs in the text; develop creative thinking students; enrich vocabulary.

Equipment. Portraits of A.I. Kuprina, A.M. Gorky; illustrations depicting various methods of mining, wildflowers: gorse, dodder, chamomile, bell, wormwood, wild carnation; sound recording of the chirping of grasshoppers.

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LESSON PROCESS

I. Organizational moment

II. Lesson topic message

Teacher. Today in the lesson we will continue to get acquainted with the work of Alexander Ivanovich Kuprin, read an excerpt from the story "In the bowels of the Earth."

III. Statement of the educational problem

W.In the lesson, we will work on changing the verbs of the perfect and imperfect types, generalize everything that we know about the verb as a part of speech.

IV. Introductory conversation

W.Guys, what do you think the story of Alexander Ivanovich Kuprin "In the bowels of the Earth" can be about? What is "subsoil"?

Children. The bowels of the Earth are what is below the earth's surface. Most likely, this story is about what minerals our Earth is rich in.

W.You are on the right track. What does the expression "mining" mean?

D.Mining.

W.Guys, how do you get minerals?

D.In various ways: with the help of special installations, excavators, people (going down into the mine).

The teacher shows illustrations depicting different mining methods.

W.What method do you think is the most dangerous for a person's life?

D.When a man goes down into a mine.

W.Why do you think?

D.The mine may collapse.

W.Quite right. In mine ( teacher shows illustration) deep underground minerals are mined - coal, ore and others.
The work of miners is very difficult and dangerous. They have to go down several tens of meters. The miner knows that his work involves great risks. We must adore the work of these people. Now the work of miners is a little easier due to modern mechanisms that help to extract minerals. But earlier, in the days when Kuprin lived, the workers did everything by hand, with the help of hammers and sledgehammers (large hammer). Their work could truly be called hard labor.
The story of Alexander Ivanovich Kuprin ( the teacher shows a book that contains this work) - about the hard labor of miners. You know that in tsarist Russia the labor of young children who earned their living was widespread. Remember "Vanka Zhukov" by Chekhov, "Skewer" by Mamin-Sibiryak, etc.
The heroes of Kuprin's story "In the bowels of the Earth" are a twelve-year-old boy Vasily Lomakin and a man of about forty, Vanka the Greek, who worked in a mine.
And then one day in the spring a tragedy happened at the mine: the overlaps collapsed. Vasya, risking his life, saves Vanka Grek, who during the tragedy suddenly began to fight in a seizure (he was sick). Vasya could run away and throw him, but he didn't! The boy understood that at any moment the millions of poods of earth hanging over his head could collapse, collapse - and crush like a midge, like a speck of dust. And even this fear of death did not stop the boy, he was still fighting for the life of the Greek. In the end, both survived. "These two people have become relatives forever," writes Kuprin.
The boy's deed can be admired. Why do you think?

Children speak up.

- The story begins with a description of the steppe. Guys, guess why?

D.The mine was most likely located under a vast expanse of steppe.

W.It is no coincidence that Kuprin begins his story with a description of a spring morning in the steppe, in order to show first life on Earth with all its bright and delicate colors, peace and tranquility, then the other side of the Earth with dirt, danger and hard labor of people underground. This juxtaposition further emphasizes the hardships of miners' lives.
The steppe is beautiful in spring. And this charm of the steppe was able to convey the great master of the word Alexander Ivanovich Kuprin.

V. Vocabulary work

W.Before reading the description of the steppe, let us analyze the words that will be found in the text.

A record of the words selected for vocabulary work opens on the board.

On the desk:

Vi. Primary perception of the text

W.Get ready to listen carefully to an excerpt from the story "In the bowels of the Earth". Try to imagine the picture that Kuprin describes.

The teacher reads a passage:

"It is an early spring morning, cool and dewy. There is not a cloud in the sky. Only in the east, from where the sun was rising in a fiery glow, do gray predawn clouds still crowd, turning pale and melting with every minute. The whole boundless steppe space seems to be showered with fine gold dust. In the dense lush grass here and there, the large dew diamonds tremble, shimmering and flashing with multi-colored lights.The steppe is merrily dazzling with flowers: the gorse is brightly yellow, the bells are modestly blue, the fragrant chamomile whitens in whole thickets, the wild carnation burns with crimson spots healthy In the morning cold, healthy. the scent of wormwood, mixed with the delicate, almond-like scent of dodder. Everything shines, and luxuriates, and joyfully reaches for the sun. nights, wet bluish shadows.
High in the air, invisible to the eye, larks tremble and ring. The restless grasshoppers have long ago raised their hasty dry chatter.
The steppe woke up and came to life, and it seems as if it breathes deep, even and powerful sighs. "

- What picture did you imagine?

D.Early spring morning.
- Steppe. The sun rises.
- The steppe is full of flowers. Grasshoppers chirp. The larks are ringing. The steppe woke up.

W.Did you like the description of the steppe? Why?

Children speak up.

Vii. Work with text

The teacher distributes the text of an excerpt from the story "In the bowels of the Earth" to the children.

W.Read the text yourself and determine the topic and type of text.

Children read the text.

- What is the theme?

D.The awakening of the steppe.

W.What type of text does this passage refer to?

D.To the description.

W.What is the subject of the description?

D.Steppe.

W.Read the beginning of the description.

D.An early spring morning, cool and dewy.

W.What epithets does Kuprin use to say which morning has come?

D.Early, spring, cool and dewy.

W.What can you say about morning with these adjectives?

D.It was early in the morning when the sun was just rising. It was spring.

- It was not yet much warm, it is cool in the morning, after the night there is dew everywhere.

W.Imagine a morning like this?

D.Yes.

W.Kuprin could personally observe the same early morning. In general, watching the awakening of nature after a night's sleep is very interesting. How did Kuprin see that morning? What was the sky like?

D.The sky was clear.

W.What words from the text did you guess about this?

D.Not a cloud in the sky.

W.But what unusual did Kuprin notice in the sky?

D.In the east, the predawn clouds were still crowding.

W.Read this sentence.

D."Only in the east, from where the sun was now floating out in a fiery glow, do gray predawn clouds still crowd, turning pale and melting with each passing minute."

W.Do you like this offer?

Children speak up.

- The proposal is very beautiful. See how many epithets and personifications Kuprin used in this sentence.

What does the expression "glow of fire" mean?

D.When the sun shines, it looks like fire.

W.What verb conveys movement in nature, the beginning of the day?

D.(The sun) floated out.

W.What is said about the clouds?

D.They crowd (impersonation), pale and melt by the minute.

W.This sentence shows how night gives way to day: the clouds go away, the sun comes up.
Why do you think Kuprin uses the word "taya"? After all, snow, icicles, snowflakes usually melt?

D.Here is a figurative expression: that is, they disappear before our eyes, disappear.

W.The sun comes into its own. What did the whole vast steppe space look like from the rays of the sun?

D.The steppe seems to be covered with fine gold dust.

W.Kuprin uses a figurative expression again. We know that in reality there are craftsmen who cover items with gilding. But here such an impression is created thanks to the sun, the rays that illuminate everything around.
So, the sky is clear, the sun is like a fiery glow. What else caught the attention of the writer?

D.Flowers.

W.Read the description of the flowers in your mind and write down epithets, comparisons, and personifications in your notebook.

Children read from the words "In the dense lush grass ..." to the end of the paragraph. They write out in the notebook:

Diamonds dew tremble and flare up colored lights, steppe fun bells and carnations are dazzling, modestly blue is burning crimson spots, wormwood smell spilled, the smell of wormwood is like almonds, everything basking.

Students can write out other epithets from the text (for example, dense lush grass, etc.).

W.See how the writer managed to say about flowers. What colors immediately appear before your eyes?

D.Yellow(gorse), blue(bells) white(chamomile), red(carnation), different shades from dew color (diamonds).

W.Only flowers did Kuprin show us in this passage?

D.No, also smells. Fragrant chamomile, bitter wormwood, dodder aroma.

W.See how adjectives ( odorous, bitter ) and nouns ( smell, aroma ) help the writer convey the atmosphere of the steppe. We, reading these sentences, involuntarily also imagine its tart smells.
What mood do you get when you present such a picture?

D.Joyful.

W.In what words is the attitude towards the beginning of a new day expressed in the text? Read it.

D.Everything shines, and luxuriates, and joyfully reaches for the sun.

W.With what or with whom can nature be compared?

D.With a living being, with a person.

W.Usually a person, when he just wakes up in the morning, basks, stretches and, willy-nilly, raises his hands up, he also reaches for the sun, for life.
What else does Kuprin notice in the steppe?

D.Sounds.

W.The first sounds of spring in the steppe are birds and insects. What did Kuprin hear?

D.Larks that fluttered and rang.
- Restless grasshoppers.

W.Guys, have you ever heard the chirping of grasshoppers?

D.Yes.

W.Want to listen?

D.Yes.

VIII. Physical education

W.Let's get some rest. Close your eyes and imagine the steppe that Kuprin writes about.

The teacher turns on the sound recording with the chirping of grasshoppers.

IX. Working with text (continued)

W.Guys, who guessed what other sounds Kuprin heard in the steppe?

D.Sighs of the steppe.

W.Prove with words from the text.

D."She seems to be breathing deep, even and powerful sighs."

W.Kuprin compared the steppe with a man. But why is the expression "mighty sighs" used?

D.The steppe is huge, like a giant man.

W.So, the steppe woke up and came to life. What do you think is main idea this passage?

D.The steppe is beautiful in spring.

W.Well done boys!

X. Working with a verb as part of speech

W.Thanks to what part of the speech did Kuprin manage to tell about everything that he saw and heard in the steppe?

D.Thanks to the noun - sky, morning, steppe, flowers.

W.With the help of what part of speech he clarifies all the subtle characteristics of these objects?

D.Using adjectives.

W.What part of speech helps to liven up the picture?

D.Verb.

W.What is a verb?

D.A verb is a part of speech that answers questions what to do? what to do? Changes in times, persons, numbers. Changing verbs by person and number is called conjugation.

W.There are many verbs in the text. All of them are divided into two groups - perfect and imperfect.
Write out in your notebook in one column the imperfective verbs, in the other - the perfect, determine their time.

Children work in a notebook.

Imperfective verbs:

floated up (past), crowd (present), it seems (present), tremble (present), dazzles (present), turns yellow (present), turn blue (present), turns white (present), is burning (present), spilled (present), shines (present), basking (present), stretches (present), lie (present), tremble (present), jingle (present), breathes (present).

Perfect vila verbs:

raised (past), awoke (past), came to life (past).

W.Take a look at your notes. Think, is it by chance that only three verbs in the text are perfect?

D.Most of the verbs are imperfect, that is, they talk about events taking place at a given moment (with the exception of the verb "floated out"). These verbs allow you to show the movement, the action that is happening now.
Perfective verbs help to say about actions that have already taken place.

W.Pay attention to the tense of the verbs. What time is missing in the text?

D.Future.

W.Why do you think?

D.It was important for Kuprin to show the steppe at the moment, that is, what appeared to his eyes now.

On the desk:

W.Fill the table.

One student is at the blackboard, the rest are working with signal cards (work check).
Writing on the board (the result of the work performed).

- We have once again made sure that the imperfective verbs change in tense (present, past and future), and the perfect verbs can only be used in the past and future tense.

XI. Linguistic experiment

W.But in the text, you need to very accurately use a certain type of verb. What will happen if you do not observe this, we will make sure with you if we now read the text by changing the form of the verb or its tense.

Children are doing work.

- We made sure that the text became expressionless. You see how important the correct choice of each verb is in order to convey a thought in accordance with your intention!

XII. Verbal drawing

W.Let's try to orally draw a verbal picture for this part of the story.

The teacher discusses with the children an imaginary picture according to the plan:

1. What will be drawn? (Content)
2. How will the objects be located in the picture? (Composition)
3. What paints do we use for the painting? (Color solution)

Execution of work and verification.

XIII. Working with the tutorial

Performing exercise number 517, p. 221 (according to the textbook by T.G. Ramzaeva. "Russian language", 4th grade).
On the blackboard is a portrait of A.M. Gorky.

W.Read the text and tell me where Alexei Maximovich Gorky met the morning.

Children read text:

The best thing in the world is to watch the day be born!
The first ray of the sun flashed in the sky. The darkness of the night quietly hides in the gorges of the mountains and the cracks of stones. And the tops of the mountains are smiling with an affectionate smile. The waves of the sea raise their white heads high, bow to the sun.
The good sun laughs.
Flowers sway playfully. They smile proudly, reaching for the sun. Its rays burn in dew drops. And above them, golden bees and wasps are already circling.
The day has come. "

- Where did Gorky meet the morning?

D.By the sea, in the mountains.

W.What do you notice in common in the descriptions of Kuprin and Gorky?

D.The sun has risen, the night darkness is quietly hiding, flowers sway and stretch towards the sun, rays burn in dew drops.

W.Did you like Gorky's description?

Children speak up.

- Every writer, poet sees in his own way the world, in his own words conveys sensations. But all these descriptions are wonderful. We still have a lot to learn from the great classics.

Guys, try sometime to watch the coming of a new day in this world. I am sure you will discover a lot of new, interesting and mysterious things.

XIV. Lesson summary

W.Guys, did you like the lesson? What new have you learned?

Statements of children.

XV. Homework

W.Draw an illustration for an excerpt from Kuprin's work.

Note... The story (excerpt) is taken from the book: Kuprin A.I. Emerald: Stories, a story. - L .: Det. lit., 1981 .-- 169.

LESSON

on literary local lore

on the topic "A.I. Kuprin." In the bowels of the earth "

(8th grade)

Russian language and literature teacher:

GARMASH LYUDMILA PETROVNA

MOU "School No. 64 of Donetsk", experience: 35 years

Topic. Literature of the native land. A.I. Kuprin. "In the bowels of the earth".

Purpose: show students that the structure of any work of art, genre and others artistic features subordinated to a single task - to give a voluminous, deep description of the depicted events and characters.

Equipment: portrait of A.I.Kuprin, map of Donetsk region, laptop.

During the classes.

I ... 1. The song "The dark mounds are sleeping" sounds.

2. Introductory speech by the teacher against the background of music.

1. Donetsk is a large industrial, scientific and cultural center of our country. And its scale is truly grandiose: 350 sq. Km - this is the area of \u200b\u200bour city. (Show on the map Donbass and Donetsk).

2. The Donetsk region, where we live, was not always like this. 6-7 centuries ago, there was "a clean field, unknown land" covered with steppe grasses. (Fragment of the video "Yuzovka").

As time went. Days followed by months, years by centuries. And now, many centuries later, we learn about the past of our region from ancient chronicles, works of UNT, historical songs, works of fiction.

Donetsk region is rich in literary traditions. Chekhov, Versaev, Bunin, Gorky, Mayakovsky have been here at different times. Today we are excited to read their documentaries and works of art about Donbass.

3. Let us recall with you lines from familiar poems about Donbass.

(Poetic five minutes)

4.Inexhaustible natural resources, the rapid growth of industry and economic power, the unusual nature of the work and lifestyle of miners, the most severe exploitation of workers - all this quickly put Donbass at the very center of the country's social life, attracting the attention of scientists, artists, writers to it. (Fragments of the video "Labor Donetsk").

From the previous lesson, we know that Kuprin's work is closely related to Ukraine, Donbass.

He, in particular, visited the Donbass in 1896. as a reporter for Kievskiye Vedomosti. Its appearance in the land of coal and metal is explained not only by the need to earn a living, but also by the desire to visit the very thick of the social relations that developed in the Donbass between the industrial bourgeoisie and the working class, to see firsthand the new that promised the development of the land in the future.

One of distinctive features Kuprin is that he always wrote about what he truly knew, about what he saw with his own eyes. Kuprin owns the words that a real artist must "see everything, know everything, be able to do everything, write about everything."

Let's remember what works of Kuprin you read?

Student responses.

II... Assimilation of new material. Announcement of the topic of the lesson and the purpose of the upcoming work.

1. Today, analyzing the essay "In the bowels of the earth" written by Kuprin, read at home, we will try to make sure that everything in it is subordinated to a single goal - to deeply and objectively reveal the main idea, comprehensively outline the characters of people.

1) What picture does the story begin with? What is the role of the painted landscape in revealing the main idea of \u200b\u200bthe work?

What is the name of the artistic technique based on the opposition of the depicted events?

(Definition of antithesis is given)

2) What, according to the writer, violates the harmony in nature? How does he describe this whistle at the Gololobovskaya mine? What does it compare to? Find examples of metaphors that make it possible to feel the author's attitude to the events described: to the hard work of miners, to the dangers that lie in wait for them daily, hourly.

What syntactic constructions does Kuprin use when describing miners? What effect does a writer achieve by using sentences that are complicated participial phrases, rows of homogeneous members of the proposal?

(Visibility, brightness and persuasiveness in depicting the appearance of miners)

3) In whose perception is the picture of the terrible, hard labor, dangerous labor of miners drawn? Why does the author use this particular technique - he entrusts the story of the hard labor of miners to the 12-year-old boy Vaska Lomakin?

(It helps the reader to see the life of the mine "from the inside" through the eyes of a naive and gullible boy, which enhances the reliability of the story, makes us closely follow the development of the plot).

4) What feelings do Vaska and I experience, making our way through the long black galleries? What do we learn about mining?

5) How would you rate Vaska’s act of not abandoning his comrade-partner in trouble?

6) What idea did Kuprin want to convey to us, who wrote this story?

7) Like this the main idea reflected in the title of the story?

8) What do you think helps the author to draw so convincingly and vividly the everyday danger of miner's work, to draw our attention to the inner world of our hero?

Teacher: You guys made sure that in each literary work every detail, every artistic technique (whether it be a portrait characteristic, landscape, etc.), even the structure of sentences - everything is subordinated to a single goal - to reveal the main idea of \u200b\u200bthe work as fully and reliably as possible, to help readers penetrate complex world the human soul, to appreciate the heroes, their actions.

9) What does this story of Kuprin teach us?

10) Many of you have parents in one way or another connected with the mine. Have you ever even been to a mine yard? Have you seen the miners climbing the mountain? What feelings did you experience? What do your parents tell you about their comrades, about their problems? Have they all been resolved? Can we say that the work of miners is a daily feat?

(Students' speeches: 2-3 people talk about the work of their fathers-miners, 3-4 people read poems of modern Donetsk poets about the mining labor-feat).

The song "Donetsk is coal, Donetsk is steel" sounds.

III... Summing up the results of the lesson.

IV... Reflection.

V. Homework: Write a miniature essay

"Labor-feat, life-feat".

Alexander Kuprin

In the bowels of the earth

An early spring morning is cool and dewy. Not a cloud in the sky. Only in the east, where the sun is now emerging in a fiery glow, are still crowding, turning pale and melting with each passing minute, do the gray predawn clouds. The whole vast expanse of the steppe seems to be showered with fine gold dust. In the dense lush grass here and there, the large dew diamonds tremble, shimmering and flashing with multi-colored lights. The steppe is merrily dazzling with flowers: the gorse turns brightly yellow, the bells are modestly blue, the fragrant chamomile whitens in whole thickets, the wild carnation burns with crimson spots. In the cool of the morning, there is a bitter, healthy scent of wormwood mixed with the delicate, almond-like scent of dodder. Everything shines and luxuriates and joyfully reaches for the sun. Only here and there in deep and narrow ravines, between steep cliffs overgrown with rare bushes, wet bluish shadows still lie, recalling the bygone night. High in the air, invisible to the eye, larks tremble and ring. The restless grasshoppers have long ago raised their hasty dry chatter. The steppe woke up and came to life, and it seems as if it breathes with deep, even and mighty sighs.

Abruptly breaking the charm of this steppe morning, the usual six o'clock whistle hums in the Gololobovskaya mine, hums for an infinitely long time, hoarsely, with harshness, as if complaining and angry. This sound is heard now louder, now weaker; sometimes he almost freezes, as if breaking off, choking, going underground, and suddenly again breaks free with new, unexpected force.

On the vast verdant horizon of the steppe, this only mine with its black fences and an ugly tower sticking out above them reminds of man and human labor. Long red pipes, smoked from above, spew, without stopping for a second, puffs of black, dirty smoke. Even from afar, one can hear the frequent ringing of hammers striking the iron, and the lingering rumble of chains, and these alarming metal sounds take on a kind of harsh, unforgiving character amid the silence of a clear, smiling morning.

Now the second shift must go underground. Hundreds of two people crowd in the mine yard between piles of large chunks of shiny coal. Completely black, soaked in coal, faces not washed for whole weeks, rags of all kinds of colors and types, legs, bast shoes, boots, old rubber galoshes and just bare feet - all this was mixed in a motley, fussy, noisy mass. In the air, there is an exquisitely ugly, aimless swearing interspersed with hoarse laughter and a suffocating, convulsive, drunken cough.

But little by little the crowd diminishes, pouring into a narrow wooden door, over which a white plaque is nailed with the inscription: "Lamp". The lamp tube is jam-packed with workers. Ten people, seated at a long table, continually fill glass bulbs with oil, clad on top in protective wire cases. When the bulbs are ready, the lamp-maker inserts a piece of lead into the ears connecting the top of the case to the bottom and flattens it with one press of massive tongs. Thus, it is achieved that the miner cannot open the light bulbs until the very exit from the ground, and even if the glass is accidentally broken, the wire mesh makes the fire completely safe. These precautions are necessary because a special combustible gas accumulates in the depths of the coal mines, which instantly explodes from fire, there have been cases when hundreds of people died from careless handling of fire in mines.

Having received a light bulb, the miner goes to another room, where the senior timekeeper notes his name in the daily list, and two assistants carefully examine his pockets, clothes and shoes to find out if he is carrying cigarettes, matches or flint with him.

After making sure that there are no prohibited things, or simply not finding them, the timekeeper nods his head briefly and throws abruptly: "Come in."

Then, through the next door, the miner enters a wide, long covered gallery located above the "main shaft".

The gallery is full of bustle of change. In a square hole leading into the depths of the mine, two iron platforms walk on a chain, thrown high above the roof over a block. While one of them rises, the other falls a hundred fathoms. The platform, as if by a miracle, jumps out of the ground, loaded with trolleys with wet coal that has just been torn from the bowels of the earth. In an instant, the workers pull the trolleys off the platform, put them on the rails and run them to the mine yard. The empty platform is immediately filled with people. A conventional sign is given to the engine room with an electric bell, the platform shudders and suddenly disappears from the eyes with a terrible roar, falls into the ground. A minute passes, another, during which nothing is heard, except for the puffing of a car and the clang of a running chain, and another platform - but no longer with coal, but packed full of wet, black and people shivering from the cold - flies out of the ground, as if thrown upward by some mysterious, invisible and terrible force. And this change of people and coal continues quickly, precisely, monotonously, like the progress of a huge machine.

Vaska Lomakin, or, as the miners called him, who generally love biting nicknames, Vaska Kirpaty, stands over the opening of the main shaft, which constantly spews out people and coal from its bowels, and, slightly half-open his mouth, stares down. Vaska is a twelve-year-old boy with a face completely black from coal dust, on which blue eyes look naively and trustingly, and with a funny upturned nose. He, too, must now go down into the mine, but the people of his party have not yet gathered, and he is waiting for them.

Vaska has only been six months since he came from a distant village. The ugly revelry and licentiousness of the miner's life had not yet touched his pure soul. He does not smoke, does not drink, and does not use foul language, like his fellow workers, who are all drunk on Sundays until they feel unconscious, play cards for money and do not let their cigarettes go out of their mouths. In addition to "Kirpaty", he also has the nickname "Mamkin", given to him for the fact that, entering the service, to the foreman's question: "You, piglet, whose will you be?", He naively replied: caused an explosion of thunderous laughter and a frenzied stream of admirable abuse from the entire shift.

Vaska still cannot get used to the coal work and to the miner's manners and customs. The magnitude and complexity of the mining business overwhelms his mind, poor in impressions, and, although he does not realize this, the mine seems to him some kind of supernatural world, the abode of dark, monstrous forces. The most mysterious creature in this world is undeniably a machinist.

Here he is sitting in his greasy leather jacket, with a cigar in his teeth and with gold glasses on his nose, bearded and frowning. Vaska can clearly see it through the glass partition that separates the engine room. What kind of person is this? Yes, complete: is he still a man? Here he, without leaving his place and without letting go of a cigar, touched a button, and in a moment a huge machine, still motionless and calm, came in, the chains rattled, the platform flew down with a crash, the entire wooden structure of the mine shook. Amazing! .. And he sits as if nothing had happened and smokes. Then he pushed on some other lump, pulled on some steel stick, and in a second everything stopped, calmed down, calmed down ... "Maybe he knows such a word?" - not without fear thinks, looking at him, Vaska.

Another - a mysterious and, moreover, endowed with extraordinary power person - senior foreman Pavel Nikiforovich. He is a complete master in a dark, damp and terrible underworld, where the red dots of distant lanterns flicker through the deep darkness and silence. On his orders, new galleries are being built and slaughtering.

Pavel Nikiforovich is very handsome, but taciturn and gloomy, as if communication with underground forces left a special, mysterious seal on him. His physical strength has become a legend among miners, and even such "lucky" lads as Bukhalo and Vanka the Grek, who give tone to the violent direction of minds, speak of the senior foreman with a touch of respect.

But immeasurably higher than Pavel Nikiforovich and the machinist is in the opinion of Vaska the director of the mine - the Frenchman Karl Frantsevich. Vaska does not even have any comparisons with which he could determine the dimensions of the power of this superman. He can do everything, absolutely everything in the world, that he only wants. The life and death of all these timekeepers, foremen, miners, loaders and carriers, who feed in thousands near the plant, depend on a wave of his hand, on one glance. Wherever his tall, straight figure and pale face with a shiny black mustache are shown, general tension and confusion is immediately felt. When he speaks to a person, he looks directly into his eyes with his cold big eyes, but looks as if he is looking through this person something like that, visible to him alone. Previously, Vaska could not imagine that there are people like Karl Frantsevich in the world. It even smells like something special, some amazing sweet flowers. Vaska caught this smell once, when the director walked past him two steps away, of course, without even noticing a tiny boy who stood without a hat, with an open mouth, seeing off a rushing earthly deity with frightened eyes.

Alexander Kuprin

In the bowels of the earth

After making sure that there are no prohibited things, or simply not finding them, the timekeeper nods his head briefly and throws abruptly: "Come in."

Then, through the next door, the miner enters a wide, long covered gallery located above the "main shaft".

In the bowels of the earth

Alexander Ivanovich Kuprin

Now the second shift must go underground. Hundreds of two people crowd in the mine yard between piles of large chunks of shiny coal. Completely black, soaked in coal, faces not washed for weeks, rags of all kinds of colors and types, footwear, bast shoes, boots, old rubber galoshes and just bare feet - all this was mixed in a motley, fussy, noisy mass. In the air, there is an exquisitely ugly, aimless swearing interspersed with hoarse laughter and a suffocating, convulsive, drunken cough.

But little by little the crowd diminishes, pouring into a narrow wooden door, over which a white plaque is nailed with the inscription: "Lamp". The lamp tube is jam-packed with workers. Ten people, seated at a long table, continually fill glass bulbs with oil, clad on top in protective wire cases. When the bulbs are ready, the lamp-maker inserts a piece of lead into the ears connecting the top of the case to the bottom and flattens it with one press of massive tongs. Thus, it is achieved that the miner cannot open the light bulbs until the very exit from the ground, and even if the glass is accidentally broken, the wire mesh makes the fire completely safe. These precautions are necessary because in the depths of coal mines a special combustible gas accumulates, which instantly explodes from fire, there have been cases when hundreds of people died from careless handling of fire in mines.

After making sure that there are no prohibited things, or simply not finding them, the timekeeper nods his head shortly and throws abruptly: "Come in."

Then, through the next door, the miner enters a wide, long covered gallery located above the "main shaft".

The gallery is full of bustle of change. In a square hole leading into the depths of the mine, two iron platforms walk on a chain, thrown high above the roof over a block. While one of them rises, the other falls a hundred fathoms. The platform, as if by a miracle, jumps out of the ground, loaded with trolleys with wet coal that has just been torn from the bowels of the earth. In an instant, the workers pull the trolleys off the platform, put them on the rails and run them to the mine yard. The empty platform is immediately filled with people. A conventional sign is given to the engine room with an electric bell, the platform shudders and suddenly disappears from the eyes with a terrible roar, falls into the ground. A minute passes, another, during which nothing is heard, except for the chugging of a car and the clang of a running chain, and another platform - but no longer with coal, but packed full of wet, black and shivering from the cold people, flies out of the ground, as if thrown upward by some mysterious, invisible and terrible force. And this change of people and coal continues quickly, precisely, monotonously, like the progress of a huge machine.

Vaska has only been six months since he came from a distant village. The ugly revelry and licentiousness of the miner's life had not yet touched his pure soul. He does not smoke, does not drink, and does not use foul language, like his fellow workers, who are all drunk on Sundays until they feel unconscious, play cards for money and do not let their cigarettes go out of their mouths. In addition to "Kirpaty", he also has the nickname "Mamkin", given to him for the fact that, when entering the service, to the foreman's question: "You, piglet, whose will you be?", He naively replied: "And mamkin!" caused an explosion of thunderous laughter and a frenzied stream of admirable abuse from the entire shift.

Here he is sitting in his greasy leather jacket, with a cigar in his teeth and with gold glasses on his nose, bearded and frowning. Vaska can clearly see it through the glass partition that separates the engine room. What kind of person is this? Yes, complete: is he still a man? Here he, without leaving his place and without letting go of a cigar, touched a button, and instantly a huge machine, still motionless and calm, came in, the chains rattled, the platform flew down with a crash, the entire wooden structure of the mine shook. Amazing! .. And he sits as if nothing had happened and smokes. Then he pushed on some other lump, pulled on some steel stick, and in a second everything stopped, calmed down, calmed down ... "Maybe he knows such a word?" - not without fear thinks, looking at him, Vaska.

Another - a mysterious and, moreover, endowed with extraordinary power man, senior foreman Pavel Nikiforovich. He is a complete master in a dark, damp and terrible underworld, where the red dots of distant lanterns flicker through the deep darkness of silence. On his orders, new galleries are being built and slaughtering.

Pavel Nikiforovich is very handsome, but taciturn and gloomy, as if communication with underground forces left a special, mysterious seal on him. His physical strength has become a legend among the miners, and even such "lucky" lads as Bukhalo and Vanka Grek, who give tone to the exuberant direction of the mind, speak of the senior foreman with a touch of respect.

Hey you, Kirpaty, climb, or something! - Vaska heard a rude call over his ear.

Vaska roused himself and rushed to the platform. The party in which he was an assistant sat down. Actually, he had two closest chiefs: Uncle Khryashch and Vanka the Greek. Together with them, he was placed on the same bunks in the common barracks, with them he constantly worked in the mine and during their free time he carried numerous household duties, which included mainly running to the nearest pub "Friends' meeting" for vodka and cucumbers. Uncle Cartilage was one of the old miners, exhausted and depersonalized by long, overwhelming work. He had no difference between a good and an evil deed, between a violent trick and cowardly hiding behind someone else's back. He slavishly followed the majority, unconsciously listened to the strong and crushed the weak, and in the miners' environment, despite his advanced years, he did not enjoy either respect or influence. Vanka the Greek, on the contrary, to a certain extent led public opinion and the strong passions of the whole barracks, where a splinter word and a strong fist served as the most weighty arguments, especially if it was armed with a heavy and sharp pick.

Kylo (hailo) - a tool for knocking coal out of the rock. (Author's note)

In this world of stormy, ardent, desperate natures, each mutual collision took on an exaggeratedly acute character. The barracks looked like a huge cage, chock-full of predatory beasts, where to get confused, to show a moment's indecision - was equal to death. An ordinary business conversation, a comradely joke turned into a terrible outburst of hatred. People who had just been peacefully chatting frantically jumped up from their seats, their faces turned pale, their hands convulsively squeezed the handle of a knife or hammer, horrible curses flew out of trembling, feathered lips along with a spray of saliva ... from fright, feeling how his chest grows cold and how his hands become weak and damp.

If in such a brutal environment Vanka the Greek enjoyed some comparative respect, then this, to a certain extent, speaks of his moral qualities. He was able to work for whole weeks, without interrupting his work, with some embittered stubbornness, in order to lose all the money earned by this inhuman labor in one night. Sober, he was uncommunicative and silent, and being drunk, he hired a musician, took him to a tavern and forced him to play, while he sat opposite him, drank glasses of vodka and cried. Then he suddenly jumped up with a twisted face and bloodshot eyes and began to "spread". What or whom to carry - he did not care; the nature, enslaved by long toil, asked for an exit ... Ugly, bloody fights began in all parts of the plant and continued until a dead sleep knocked down this unbridled man.

But - oddly enough - Vanka the Greek gave Kirpatom something akin to care, or rather, attention. Of course, this attention was expressed in a harsh and rude form and was accompanied by bad words, without which the miner cannot do even in his best moments, however, undoubtedly, this attention existed. So, for example, Vanka the Grek arranged for the little boy in the best place on a bunk, with his feet to the stove, despite the protest of Uncle Cartilage, who had previously owned this place. Another time, when a miner who went on a spree wanted to take away fifty dollars from Vaska by force, the Greek defended Vaska's interests. “Leave the boy,” he said calmly, lifting himself slightly on the bunk. And these words were accompanied by such an eloquent look that the miner burst into a stream of selected abuse, but nevertheless stepped aside.

Five more people ascended the platform with Vaska. A signal rang out, and at the same moment Vaska felt an extraordinary lightness in his whole body, as if wings had grown behind him. Shuddering and thundering, the platform flew down, and past it, merging into one continuous gray strip, rushed up the brick wall of the well. Then a deep gloom immediately set in. The lights flickered faintly in the hands of the silent, bearded miners, flinching with the uneven jolts of the falling platform. Then Vaska suddenly felt himself flying up, not down. This strange physical deception is always experienced by unaccustomed people at the time when the platform reaches the middle of the trunk, but for a long time Vaska could not get rid of this false sensation, which always caused him a slight dizziness.

The platform quickly and gently slowed down the fall and stood on the ground. From above, underground springs flowed down to the main shaft in a waterfall, and the miners quickly fled from the platform to avoid this torrential rain.

People in oilcloth cloaks, with hoods on their heads, were rolling full carts onto the platform. Uncle Khryashch threw to one of them: "Great, Terekha," but he did not deign to answer, and the party scattered in different directions.

Every time he found himself underground, Vaska felt a kind of silent, oppressive melancholy take possession of him. These long black galleries seemed endless to him. From time to time the light of a lamp flashed somewhere far away with a pitiful pale red dot and disappeared suddenly, and again appeared. The footsteps sounded dull and strange. The air was unpleasantly cheese, stuffy and cold. Sometimes behind the side walls one could hear the murmur of running water, and in these faint sounds. Vaska was catching some ominous, threatening notes.

Vaska followed Uncle Cartilage and the Greek. Their light bulbs, swinging by their hands, threw dull yellow spots on the slippery, mildewed walls of the gallery, in which three ugly indistinct shadows darted back and forth, disappearing, now stretching out to the ceiling. Involuntarily, all the bloody and mysterious legends of the mine surfaced in Vaska's memory.

Here, four people fell asleep. Three of them were found dead, and the body of the fourth was never found; they say that his spirit sometimes walks around gallery No. 5 and cries pitifully ... There, in the third year, a miner smashed the head of his comrade with a pick, who refused him a sip of vodka smuggled underground. There was also talk of an old worker who, many years ago, got lost in the galleries that he knew like the back of his hand. He was found only three days later, exhausted from hunger and mad. It was said that "someone" was taking him through the mine. This "someone", terrible, nameless and impersonal, like the underground darkness that gave rise to it, undoubtedly exists in the depths of the mines, but not a single real miner will ever talk about him, neither sober nor drunk. And every time Vaska, following his party, thinks "about him", he feels on his body someone's quiet, cold breath, throwing him into a shiver.

Well, Vanka, did you have a good walk? - Uncle Cartilage asked searchingly, turning towards the Greek as he walked.

The Greek did not answer and only spat contemptuously through his teeth. The day before, he had not come to work for five whole days, drinking away his two-month salary in a foul and ugly manner. During all this time he had hardly slept at all, and now his nerves were extremely excited.

Well, yes, my brother, well, there is nothing to say, - Uncle Cartilage did not calm down. - How did you bark at the foreman? Very well...

Don't itch, ”the Greek cut short.

Why itch, I don’t itch, ”answered Uncle Cartilage, who was most offended by the fact that he did not manage to take part in yesterday's revelry. - But only, my brother, you now cannot escape the office. They will call you, dear friend, to the calculation. It's like giving it to drink ...

Leave me alone!

Why leave me alone. This, my dear fellow, is not like turning out billiards in a restaurant. Sergei Trifonitch said so: let him say, he will ask me well now. Let it ...

Shut up, dog! - suddenly turned sharply to the old man Grek, and his eyes flashed viciously in the darkness of the gallery.

Well to me! I’m nothing, I’m silent, ”Uncle Cartilage hesitated.

It was almost a mile and a half to the place of work. Turning off the main road, the party walked for a long time in narrow cranked galleries. In some places it was necessary to bend over so as not to touch the head with the ceiling. The air grew damp and stifling every minute. Finally they reached their lava. In its narrow and cramped space, it was impossible to work either standing or sitting; I had to beat off coal while lying on my back, which is the most difficult and difficult kind of mining art. Uncle Cartilage and the Greek slowly and silently undressed, remaining naked to the waist, hooked their bulbs to the ledges of the walls and lay down next to them. The Greek was not feeling well at all. Three sleepless nights and prolonged poisoning with bad vodka made themselves painfully felt. A dull pain was felt throughout his body, as if someone had pounded him with a stick, his hands obeyed with difficulty, his head was so heavy as if it had been stuffed with coal. However, the Greek would never have dropped his miner's dignity, betraying his painful condition in some way.

Silently, intently, with gritted teeth, he hammered the pick into the fragile, ringing coal. At times he seemed to be forgotten. Everything disappeared from his eyes: the low lava, and the dull shine of coal fractures, and the flabby body of Uncle Cartilage lying next to him. The brain seemed to fall asleep for moments, in my head the motives of yesterday’s hurdy-gurdy sounded monotonously, to nausea, but my hands continued their usual work with strong and dexterous movements. Beating off layer by layer over your head. The Greek almost unconsciously moved higher and higher on his back, leaving a weak comrade far behind him.

Fine charcoal sprayed from under his pick, showering his sweaty face. Turning out a large piece, the Greek paused only for a minute to push it away with his foot, and again with malicious energy went into work. Vaska had already managed to fill the wheelbarrow twice and took it to the main highway, where coal, mined in the side galleries, was dumped in common heaps. When he returned the second time empty, he was struck from afar by some strange sounds, which were heard from the lava hole. Someone moaned and wheezed, as if they were being strangled by the throat. At first, the thought flashed through Vaska's head that the miners were fighting. He stopped in fright, but the agitated voice of Uncle Cartilage called out to him:

What have you become, puppy? Come here soon.

Vanka the Greek struggled on the ground in terrible convulsions. His face turned blue, foam appeared on his tightly compressed lips, his eyelids were wide open, and instead of eyes there were only huge rotating whites.

Uncle Cartilage was completely confused, he kept touching the Greek by the cold, trembling hand and saying in a pleading voice:

Yes, Vanka ... but stop ... well, there will be, there will be ...

Artist Roman Minin

It was a terrible epilepsy attack. An unknown, terrible force threw up the entire body of the Greek, twisting it into ugly, convulsive postures.

He then bent in an arc, resting only with his heels and the back of his head on the ground, then he fell heavily down his body, writhed, touching his chin with his knees, and stretched out like a stick, trembling with every muscle.

Oh, my God, here's the story, ”muttered Uncle Cartilage in dismay. - Vanka, stop ... listen ... Oh, my God, how is it all of a sudden? .. Wait, Kirpaty, - he suddenly caught himself, - you stay to watch him here, and I'll run after people.

Uncle, what about me? - Vaska piteously stretched out.

Well, talk to me again! It has been said - sit, and that's the end of it, - Uncle Cartilage shouted menacingly.

He hastily grabbed his coat and, putting it in his sleeves as he walked, ran from the gallery.

Vaska was left alone over the Greek who was struggling in a fit. How much time had passed while he sat huddled in a corner, seized with superstitious horror and afraid to move, he could not say. But little by little the convulsions that fluttered the Greek's body became less and less frequent. Then the wheezing stopped, the terrible squirrels closed the eyelids, and suddenly, taking a deep breath with his whole chest, the Greek stretched out motionless.

Now Vaska felt even more creepy. "Lord, isn't he dead?" - thought the boy, and from this very thought a terrible cold felt the hair on his head. Barely catching his breath, he crawled up to the patient and touched his bare chest. She was cold, but still rose and fell slightly.

Uncle Greek, and uncle Greek, - whispered Vaska.

The Greek did not respond.

Uncle, get up! Let me take you to the hospital. Uncle! ..

Somewhere in the nearest gallery, hurried steps were heard. "Well, thank God, Uncle Cartilage is returning," Vaska thought with relief.

However, it was not Uncle Cartilage.

Some unknown miner looked into the lava, illuminating it with a lamp raised high above his head.

Who is there? Come upstairs quickly! he shouted excitedly and commandingly.

Uncle, - Vaska rushed to him, - uncle, something like that happened to the Greek here! .. He lies and does not say anything.

The miner brought his face close to that of the Greek. But he only smelled like a sharp jet of wine fumes.

Ek managed to do it, - the miner shook his head. - Hey, Vanka Grek, get up! he shouted, swinging the patient's arm. - Get up, or something, they tell you. In the third issue, the collapse happened. Do you hear, Vanka! ..

The Greek mumbled something incomprehensible, but did not open his eyes.

Well, I have no time to burn with him, with a drunk! the miner exclaimed impatiently. - Wake him up, kid. Yes, hurry up only. The hour is not even, and yours will collapse. Then you will disappear like rats ...

His head disappeared into a dark hole in the lava. After a few seconds, his frequent steps also died down.

Vaska was strikingly vividly aware of the horror of his situation. Every moment millions of poods of earth hanging over his head can collapse. They will collapse and crush like a midge, like a speck of dust. If you want to shout, you won't be able to open your mouth ... If you want to move, your hands and feet are crushed by the earth ... And then death, a terrible, merciless, inexorable death ...

Vaska in despair rushes to the lying miner and shakes him with all his might by the shoulders.

Uncle Greek, uncle Greek, wake up! he shouts, straining all his strength.

His sensitive ear catches behind the walls - both on the right and on the left - the sounds of heavy, irregularly hasty steps. All the work shifts run to the exit, seized by the same horror that now possessed Vaska. For a moment, Vaska has a thought to abandon the sleeping Greek to the mercy of fate and run headlong himself. But immediately some incomprehensible, extremely complex feeling stops him. He again begins to pull the Greek by the arms, shoulders and head with a pleading cry.

But the head swings obediently from side to side, the raised hand falls with a thud. At that moment Vaska's gaze notices a coal wheelbarrow, and a happy thought illuminates his head. With terrible efforts, he lifts the heavy, heavy, like a dead man's body from the ground and loads it onto the wheelbarrow, then throws his lifeless legs over the walls and with difficulty rolls the Greek out of the lava.

The galleries are empty.

Somewhere far ahead, the trampling of the last belated workers is heard. Vaska runs, making incredible efforts to keep his balance. His thin childish arms stretched out and were stupefied, there was not enough air in his chest, some iron hammers were pounding in his temples, and fiery wheels were spinning rapidly before his eyes. It would be better to stop, to rest a little, to get comfortable with exhausted hands.

"No I can not!"

Inevitable death is chasing him, and he already feels the wave of her wings behind him.

Thank goodness for the last turn! In the distance, there was a flash of red torchlight, illuminating the elevator.

People crowd on the platform.

Hurry, hurry!

Another last, desperate effort ...

What is it, Lord! The platform rises ... now it has completely disappeared.

"Wait! Stop!"

A hoarse cry flies out of Vaska's lips. Fiery wheels before the eyes flare up into a monstrous flame. Everything collapses and falls with a deafening crash ...

Vaska comes to himself upstairs. He lies in someone's sheepskin zipun, surrounded by a whole crowd of people. Some fat gentleman rubs Vaska's whiskey. Director Karl Frantsevich is also present here. He catches Vaska's first meaningful glance, and his stern lips whisper approvingly:

Oh! mon brave garcon! Oh, you brave little boy!

Vaska, of course, does not understand these words, but he has already managed to make out the pale and anxious face of the Greek in the back rows of the crowd. The look these two people exchange binds them together for life with strong and tender bonds.