Information about the author Paustovsky. Interesting facts from the life of Paustovsky

Birth of a story

On a winter day near Moscow, I kept dozing off and couldn’t wake up after a long night. Here and there in the dachas lamps were burning. It was snowing.

The writer Muravyov went out onto the platform of the carriage, opened the outer door and looked for a long time at the winter rushing past the train.

It was, perhaps, not winter, but what is called “winter” - a cloudy day, when the damp wind comes in gusts, a thaw is about to begin and the first drops will fly from the thawed branches. On such days, springs under the ice are already ringing cautiously in forest ravines. They carry a lot of air bubbles along with the water. Bubbles hurriedly run in silver lines, clinging to the limp underwater grasses. And some gray bullfinch with a pink chest sits firmly on a branch above the spring, looks with one eye at the passing bubbles, squeaks and shakes itself from the snow. So, spring is coming!

There are days when life seems especially clear and harmonious to us. This is what happened now with Muravyov.

In the old days, writers loved to address readers with all kinds of questions.

Why not, thought Muravyov, modern writers Why not sometimes take advantage of this good-natured reception? Why not, for example, start the story like this:

“Are you familiar, dear reader, with the feeling of inevitable happiness that takes over a person suddenly and without any reason? You are walking down the street, and your heart suddenly begins to pound loudly with the confidence that something wonderful has just happened on earth. Has this ever happened to you? Of course it happened. Have you looked for the cause of this condition? Unlikely. But even if the premonition of happiness deceived you, there was so much power in it that it helped you live.”

“Searching for and finding the causes of obscure but fruitful human conditions is the job of writers,” thought Muravyov. “This is one of the areas of our work.”

Work! Everything was full of it now. Thousand-ton freight trains rushed towards them in steam and roar. It was hard work. The plane flew low, humming, over the snowy plain. This was also work. Steel power transmission masts, covered with frost, carried powerful current into the darkness. And it was work.

“What is this great country of many millions, now covered with snow, working for? - thought Muravyov. - What am I working for, finally?

For life? For the sake of high spiritual values? For the sake of a person being beautiful, simple and smart? So that love can finally fill our days with its pure breath? Yes, for this reason!

Pushkin asked in his singing poems: “Who grew Theocritus’s tender roses in the snow?” In the Iron Age, tell me, who guessed the golden one?”

Of course, we are,” Muravyov answered himself. Snow flew onto the platform of the carriage and melted on the face. “Who else if not us!”

Muravyov wrote a story about labor for one of the Moscow magazines. He struggled with this story for a long time, but nothing came of it. It must be because detailed description labor was pushed aside by man. And without a person, the story turned out to be unbearably boring. It seemed to Muravyov that the story was not going well because of the hectic life in Moscow - phone calls, all sorts of things to do, guests and meetings.

In the end, Muravyov got angry and left the city. In one of the villages near Moscow, his friends had their own dacha. Muravyov decided to settle in this dacha and stay there until he finished the story.

Distant relatives of his friends lived at the dacha, but Muravyov never saw these relatives.

At the North Station, when Muravyov was walking along the platform to the commuter train, his heart suddenly began to beat dully and he thought that he would have good luck at work. He even knew now for sure that it would happen, this luck. He knew by many precise signs - by the freshness in his whole body, by his restrained excitement, by the special vigilance with which he now noticed and remembered everything around him, by his impatient desire to quickly get to this unfamiliar dacha in order to sit in silence at the table with a stack of clean thick paper, finally due to the fact that scraps of his favorite poems kept appearing in his memory: “The soul is embarrassed by lyrical excitement, trembles, and sounds, and seeks, as in a dream, to finally pour out in free manifestation...”

In such an excited state, Muravyov left the train onto a long dacha platform in a pine forest. There was no one on the platform. Only the sparrows were sitting on the railings, ruffled, looking displeasedly at the train. They didn’t even move aside when Muravyov walked next to them and almost touched them with his sleeve. Only one sparrow chirped something grumpily at Muravyov’s back. “He must have cursed me as ignorant,” thought Muravyov, looked back at the sparrow and said:

Just think - a big gentleman!

Sparrow looked after Muravyov with his beaded eye for a long time and contemptuously.

The dacha was three kilometers from the platform. Muravyov walked along a deserted road. Sometimes fields opened up among the copses. Above them the sky turned pink.

Is it really sunset already? - Muravyov said loudly and caught himself that here, outside the city, he began to talk to himself.

The day quickly dried up with almost no glimmer of light. Not a single ray of sunlight broke through the dense darkness, fell on the frost-covered branches, played pale fire on them, or cast faint shadows on the snow.

The road descended into a ravine, to log bridges. The stream muttered beneath them.

Yeah! - Muravyov said with incomprehensible joy and stopped. In a small gulch in the ice, running dark water could be seen, and below it was a rocky bottom.

Where do you get so much water in winter, buddy? - asked Muravyov.

The stream, of course, did not answer. He continued to mumble, then fading, then raising his voice until it rang. The water broke off transparent pieces of ice and pushed them against each other.

Muravyov went down to the stream and began to break off pieces of ice with a stick. The stream swirled with broken ice and foamed.

“We still need to help spring at least a little,” Muravyov thought, grinning at himself, and looked back. A girl in a blue ski suit stood on the bridge and, sticking her poles into the snow, looked carefully at Muravyov.

Muravyov was embarrassed. What will this girl think of him? “He’s an old brat, but he’s doing nonsense.” Of course, she can’t think of anything else. But the girl bent down, hastily unfastened her skis and shouted to Muravyov:

Wait! It is better to break off ice with ski poles. They have iron tips!

She ran to the stream and handed Muravyov a ski pole. It turned out that it was much easier to break the ice with this stick.

They broke the ice together, concentrated and silent. Muravyov felt hot, he took off his mittens. The girl's hair came out from under her knitted cap.

Then, out of nowhere, a boy appeared in a hat with protruding different sides headphones. Muravyov noticed him when he, sniffling, began to push with excitement and get underfoot.

Perhaps that's enough! - Muravyov finally said and straightened up. Thick twilight already lay over the ground. “However, how quickly time has flown by,” thought Muravyov, looked at the girl and laughed. The girl was shaking snow off her mittens. She smiled back at him without looking up.

When we got out of the ravine onto the forest road, Muravyov started talking with the girl. The boy trudged behind for a while, sniffling and sniffling.

It turned out that the girl lives with her father at the same dacha where Muravyov was going.

So you are a distant relative of my friends! - Muravyov said joyfully and identified himself. The girl pulled off a damp mitten and extended her hand to Muravyov.

“My name is Zhenya,” she said simply. - Dad and I have been waiting for you for the second day. I won't bother you. True, don’t think so... Tomorrow is my last day of vacation. I will go to Moscow, to my institute. It's just dad...

What's dad? - asked Muravyov, wary.

“He’s a nerd and a terrible talker,” Zhenya answered. - But yesterday he gave his honest, most honest word that he would not pester you with conversations. I just don’t know - will it hold up? It’s true, it’s hard to restrain yourself.

Why is this? - asked Muravyov.

Zhenya walked next to Muravyov. She carried her skis on her shoulder and looked straight ahead. A faint light glittered in her eyes and on the polished wide limbs of her skis. Muravyov was surprised - where did this light come from? All around the fields, gloomy darkness had already settled for the night. Then Muravyov noticed that it was not the reflection of snow, as he immediately thought, but the reflection of a wide illuminated window of a large two-story dacha. They were already approaching her.

Yes, so why is it difficult to stop talking? - Muravyov asked again.

How can I tell you... - Zhenya answered hesitantly. - I understand how to build, for example, sea ship. Or how a thin piece of cloth emerges from under the fingers of a weaver. But I can’t understand how books are written. And dad doesn't understand this either.

“Yes,” said Muravyov. - You can’t talk about this on the go.

Aren't you going to write about it? - Zhenya asked timidly, and Muravyov realized that if it weren’t for shyness, she would simply ask him to write about it. - After all, others write about their work.

Muravyov stopped, narrowed his eyes, looked at Zhenya and suddenly smiled.

Well done! How did you guess that I’m writing... or rather, I’m going to write exactly about this, about my work as a writer?

“I had no idea,” Zhenya answered fearfully. - I said it just like that. Really, I really want to know how people like Katyusha Maslova or Telegin from “Walking Through Torment” suddenly come into the world and then live for centuries. So I asked.

But Muravyov no longer heard her words. The decision to write about my work came immediately. How did he not think of this before! How could he write sluggishly and coldly about what he did not know and what he himself had not experienced. Write and feel how the tongue becomes ossified and the words no longer sound, cause anger, tears, thoughts and laughter, but jangle like empty tins. What stupidity!

That same evening, Muravyov, without any regret, threw into the stove, where dry birch firewood crackled hotly, everything written for last days in Moscow.

There was a thick stack on the table blank paper. Muravyov sat down at the table and began to write on the first page:

“An old botanist - a thin, restless and quick-moving man - told me this evening how plants behave under the snow, how coltsfoot shoots slowly make their way through the crust, and cold snowdrop flowers bloom just above the snow cover. Tomorrow he promises to take me into the forest, carefully remove the top layer of snow in any clearing and show me with my own eyes these winter and still pale flowers.

I am writing this story or essay - I myself don’t know what to call everything that is now coming out of my pen - about a phenomenon that has not yet been studied by anyone, which bears the somewhat pompous name of creativity. I want to write about prose.

If we turn to the best examples prose, then we will make sure that they are full of genuine poetry. And picturesque.

Naive people, some poets with watery eyes full of dull dreams, still think that the fewer secrets there are on earth, the more boring our existence becomes. It's all nonsense! I maintain that poetry is born, to a great extent, out of knowledge. The amount of poetry is growing in full accordance with the amount of our knowledge. The fewer secrets, the more powerful the human mind, the more powerfully it perceives and transmits to others the poetry of our land.

An example of this is the story of an old botanist about the winter life of plants. You could write a great poem about this. It should be written in the same cold and white verses as snow flowers.

I want to affirm from the very beginning the idea that the sources of poetry and prose lie in two things - in knowledge and in the powerful human imagination.

Cognition is a tuber. From it grow unprecedented and eternal flowers of the imagination.

I apologize for this smart comparison, but it seems to me that it’s time to forget about our “highly cultural” prejudices that condemn smartness and many other equally good things. It’s all a matter of applying them appropriately and in moderation.”

Muravyov wrote without stopping. He was afraid to put down his pen for even a minute, so as not to stop the flow of thoughts and words.

He wrote about his work, the magnificence and power of the Russian language, about the great masters of words, about how the whole world in all its amazing diversity should be repeated on the pages of books in its full reality, but passed through the crystal of the writer’s mind and imagination and therefore - more clear and conscious than in noisy reality.

He wrote like a man possessed. He was in a hurry. Outside the windows, in a narrow strip of light from his window, sparse snow flew slantingly between the pines. He emerged from the darkness and immediately disappeared into this darkness.

“Now snow is flying in the wind outside the windows,” Muravyov wrote. - Water crystals fly by. We all know their complex and magnificent designs. The person who could come up with the shape of such crystals would deserve great fame. But there is nothing more fleeting and fragile than these crystals. It only takes one child's breath to destroy them.

Nature has unheard of generosity. She is not sorry for her strength. There are some things we humans, especially writers, should learn from nature. First of all - this generosity. To each of your things, be it even the smallest story, you need to give all of yourself, all your strength without reserve - all the best that is in your soul. There is no place for thrift and calculation.

It is necessary, as engineers say, to open all the floodgates. And never be afraid of that feeling of devastation that will inevitably come when the work is finished. It will seem to you that you can no longer write a single line, that you have been squeezed dry, like a sponge. This is a false state. A week will pass, and you will be drawn to paper again. Once again, the whole world will be noisy before your mental gaze.

How sea wave brings a shell ashore or autumn leaf and again goes into the sea, quietly rattling the pebbles, so your consciousness will carry out and put on paper the first word of your new work in front of you.”

Muravyov wrote until the morning. When he finished writing last words, it was already turning blue outside the windows. Dawn broke over the gloomy fields in frosty smoke.

You could hear the fire humming in the newly flooded stove below and the cast-iron stove door tapping from the draft.

Muravyov wrote the last lines:

“Gorky said that you cannot write into emptiness. While working, you need to imagine that sweet person to whom you tell all the best things that have accumulated in your soul and heart. Then strong and fresh words will come.

Let us be grateful to Gorky for this simple and great advice.”

In the morning, Muravyov took a long time to wash his face cold water from a bucket. Pieces of transparent ice floated in the water.

A spruce paw hung, bent from the snow, outside the window of the small washroom. The fresh shaggy towel smelled of the wind.

My soul felt light and empty, even as if something was ringing throughout my body.

In the afternoon, Muravyov went to accompany Zhenya to the station - she was leaving for Moscow, to her institute.

Frankly speaking,” Muravyov said to Zhenya as they approached the plank platform in the forest, “I can already return to Moscow.” But I will stay for two or three more days. I'll rest.

Is it bad for you here? - Zhenya asked in fear.

No. It's wonderful here. It’s just that I almost finished my story that night.

Muravyov involuntarily said “almost finished.” For some reason he was ashamed to admit that he wrote the entire story in one night.

He wanted to tell Zhenya that he was in a hurry to have time to read this story to her before she left for Moscow, but he didn’t read it and didn’t dare. He wanted to tell Zhenya that he wrote the story thinking about her, that Gorky, of course, was right, that he was simply grateful to her, almost to a stranger, for the fact that she lives in the world and causes the need to tell her all the good things that he has accumulated in his soul.

But Muravyov didn’t say anything to Zhenya. He just shook her hand firmly goodbye, looked into her embarrassed eyes and thanked her for her help.

For what kind of help? - Zhenya was surprised.

Before the train arrived, thick snow began to fall. Far beyond the semaphore, the locomotive screamed jubilantly and protractedly. The train suddenly burst out of the snow, as if from a white enchanted land, and, grinding its brakes, stopped.

Zhenya was the last to go up to the platform. She did not go into the carriage, but stood in the doorway - flushed and smiling - and waved goodbye to Muravyov with her hand in a familiar green mitten.

The train went into the snow, enveloping the forests with steam. Muravyov stood on the platform and looked after him. And as at the Northern Station in Moscow, again he felt a dull heartbeat. Again there came a sudden feeling that right now, somewhere here, nearby, on this earth, quiet under the seemingly light weight of flying snow, something very good had happened, and he, Muravyov, was involved in this good, as an accomplice .

Fine! - said Muravyov. - You can’t live away from youth!

Muravyov went down the icy ladder from the platform and went to the stream to break up the ice. Ski pole he took with him.

Konstantin Paustovsky worked in factories, was a tram leader, an orderly, a journalist and even a fisherman... Whatever the writer did, wherever he went, whoever he met - all the events of his life sooner or later became the themes of his literary works.

“Youth Poems” and First Prose

Konstantin Paustovsky was born in 1892 in Moscow. There were four children in the family: Paustovsky had two brothers and a sister. My father was often transferred to work, the family moved a lot, and eventually they settled in Kyiv.

In 1904, Konstantin entered the First Kyiv Classical Gymnasium here. When he entered sixth grade, his father left the family. To pay for his studies, the future writer had to work as a tutor.

In his youth, Konstantin Paustovsky was fond of the work of Alexander Green. In his memoirs, he wrote: “My state could be defined in two words: admiration for the imaginary world and melancholy due to the inability to see it. These two feelings prevailed in my youthful poems and my first immature prose.” In 1912, Paustovsky’s first story, “On the Water,” was published in the Kiev almanac “Lights.”

In 1912, the future writer entered the Faculty of History and Philology of Kyiv University. After the outbreak of the First World War, he transferred to Moscow: his mother, sister and one of his brothers lived here. However, during the war, Paustovsky almost did not study: first he worked as a tram leader, then he got a job on an ambulance train.

“In the fall of 1915, I transferred from the train to a field ambulance detachment and walked with it a long retreat route from Lublin in Poland to the town of Nesvizh in Belarus. In the detachment, from a greasy scrap of newspaper I came across, I learned that on the same day two of my brothers were killed on different fronts. I was left with my mother completely alone, except for my half-blind and sick sister.”
Konstantin Paustovsky

After the death of his brothers, Konstantin returned to Moscow, but not for long. He traveled from city to city, working in factories. In Taganrog, Paustovsky became a fisherman in one of the artels. Subsequently, he said that the sea made him a writer. Here Paustovsky began writing his first novel, “Romantics.”

During his travels, the writer met Ekaterina Zagorskaya. When she lived in Crimea, the residents of a Tatar village called her Khatice, and Paustovsky called her the same way: “I love her more than my mother, more than myself... Hatice is an impulse, an edge of the divine, joy, melancholy, illness, unprecedented achievements and torment...” In 1916 the couple got married. Paustovsky's first son, Vadim, was born 9 years later, in 1925.

Konstantin Paustovsky

"Profession: knowing everything"

During the October Revolution, Konstantin Paustovsky was in Moscow. He worked here as a journalist for some time, but soon went to follow his mother again - this time to Kyiv. Having survived several revolutions of the Civil War here, Paustovsky moved to Odessa.

“In Odessa, I first found myself among young writers. Among the employees of "Sailor" were Kataev, Ilf, Bagritsky, Shengeli, Lev Slavin, Babel, Andrei Sobol, Semyon Kirsanov and even the elderly writer Yushkevich. In Odessa, I lived near the sea and wrote a lot, but had not yet published, believing that I had not yet achieved the ability to master any material or genre. Soon the “muse of distant wanderings” took possession of me again. I left Odessa, lived in Sukhum, Batumi, Tbilisi, was in Erivan, Baku and Julfa, until I finally returned to Moscow.”
Konstantin Paustovsky

In 1923, the writer returned to Moscow and became an editor at the Russian Telegraph Agency. During these years, Paustovsky wrote a lot, his stories and essays were actively published. The author's first collection of stories, “Oncoming Ships,” was published in 1928, at the same time the novel “Shining Clouds” was written. During these years, Konstantin Paustovsky collaborated with many periodicals: he worked for the Pravda newspaper and several magazines. The writer spoke about his journalistic experience as follows: “Profession: knowing everything.”

“The awareness of responsibility for millions of words, the rapid pace of work, the need to accurately and accurately regulate the flow of telegrams, to select one fact from a dozen and transfer it to all cities - all this creates that nervous and restless mental organization, which is called the “temperament of a journalist.”
Konstantin Paustovsky

"The Tale of Life"

In 1931, Paustovsky finished the story “Kara-Bugaz”. After its publication, the writer left the service and devoted all his time to literature. IN next years he traveled around the country, wrote a lot works of art and essays. In 1936, Paustovsky divorced. The writer’s second wife was Valeria Valishevskaya-Navashina, whom he met shortly after the divorce.

During the war, Paustovsky was at the front - a war correspondent, then he was transferred to TASS. Simultaneously with work in Information agency Paustovsky wrote the novel “Smoke of the Fatherland,” stories, and plays. The Moscow Chamber Theater, evacuated to Barnaul, staged a performance based on his work “Until the Heart Stops.”

Paustovsky with his son and wife Tatyana Arbuzova

The third wife of Konstantin Paustovsky was the actress of the Meyerhold Theater Tatyana Evteeva-Arbuzova. They met while both were married and both left their spouses to create new family. Paustovsky wrote to his Tatyana that “there has never been such love in the world.” They married in 1950, and their son Alexei was born that same year.

A few years later, the writer went on a trip to Europe. While traveling, he wrote travel essays and stories: “Italian Meetings”, “Fleeting Paris”, “Lights of the English Channel”. The book "Golden Rose", dedicated to literary creativity, published in 1955. In it, the author tries to comprehend “an amazing and beautiful area of human activity.” In the mid-1960s, Paustovsky completed the autobiographical “Tale of Life,” in which he talks, among other things, about his creative path.

“...Writing has become for me not only an activity, not only a job, but a state own life, my inner state. I often found myself living as if inside a novel or story.”
Konstantin Paustovsky

In 1965, Konstantin Paustovsky was nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature, but Mikhail Sholokhov received it that year.

IN last years During his lifetime, Konstantin Paustovsky suffered from asthma and had several heart attacks. In 1968, the writer passed away. According to his will, he was buried in the cemetery in Tarusa.

Konstantin Georgievich Paustovsky – Russian Soviet writer; modern readers V to a greater extent know such a facet of his work as novels and stories about nature for a children's audience.

Paustovsky was born on May 31 (May 19, old style) in Moscow, his father was a descendant of a Cossack family and worked as a railway statistician. Their family was quite creative, they played the piano here, sang often, loved theatrical performances. As Paustovsky himself said, his father was an incorrigible dreamer, so his places of work, and accordingly, his residence, changed all the time

In 1898, the Paustovsky family settled in Kyiv. The writer called himself “a Kievite by heart”; many years of his biography were connected with this city; it was in Kyiv that he established himself as a writer. Konstantin's place of study was the 1st Kiev classical gymnasium. As a student in the last grade, he wrote his first story, which was published. Even then, the decision came to him to be a writer, but he could not imagine himself in this profession without accumulating life experience, “go into life.” He also had to do this because his father abandoned his family when Konstantin was in the sixth grade, and the teenager was forced to take care of supporting his family.

In 1911, Paustovsky was a student at the Faculty of History and Philology at Kyiv University, where he studied until 1913. Then he transferred to Moscow, to the university, but to the Faculty of Law, although he did not complete his studies: his studies were interrupted by the First World War. It's like youngest son in the family, he was not drafted into the army, but he worked as a tram driver on a tram and on an ambulance train. On the same day, while on different fronts, two of his brothers died, and because of this, Paustovsky came to his mother in Moscow, but stayed there only for a while. At that time, he had a variety of places of work: Novorossiysk and Bryansk metallurgical plants, a boiler plant in Taganrog, a fishing artel in Azov, etc. In his leisure hours, Paustovsky worked on his first story, “Romantics,” during 1916-1923. (it will be published in Moscow only in 1935).

When the February Revolution began, Paustovsky returned to Moscow and collaborated with newspapers as a reporter. I met you here October Revolution. In the post-revolutionary years he committed a large number of trips around the country. IN civil war the writer ended up in Ukraine, where he was called up to serve in the Petliura army and then in the Red army. Then, for two years, Paustovsky lived in Odessa, working in the editorial office of the newspaper “Sailor”. From there, carried away by the thirst for distant travels, he went to the Caucasus, lived in Batumi, Sukhumi, Yerevan, and Baku.

He returned to Moscow in 1923. Here he worked as an editor at ROSTA, and in 1928 his first collection of stories was published, although some stories and essays had previously been published separately. In the same year he wrote his first novel, “Shining Clouds.” In the 30s Paustovsky is a journalist for several publications, in particular, the Pravda newspaper, Our Achievement magazines, etc. These years are also filled with numerous trips around the country, which provided material for many works of art.

In 1932, his story “Kara-Bugaz” was published, which became a turning point. She makes the writer famous, in addition, from that moment Paustovsky decides to become a professional writer and leaves his job. As before, the writer travels a lot; during his life he has traveled almost the entire USSR. Meshchera became his favorite corner, to which he dedicated many inspired lines.

When the Great Patriotic War began, Konstantin Georgievich also had a chance to visit many places. On the Southern Front he worked as a war correspondent, without abandoning his studies in literature. In the 50s Paustovsky's place of residence was Moscow and Tarus on the Oka. Post-war years his creative path is marked by an appeal to the topic of writing. During 1945-1963. Paustovsky worked on the autobiographical “Tale of Life,” and these 6 books were the main work of his entire life.

In the mid-50s. Konstantin Georgievich becomes a world-famous writer, recognition of his talent goes beyond the borders of his native country. The writer gets the opportunity to travel throughout the continent, and he uses it with pleasure, traveling to Poland, Turkey, Bulgaria, Czechoslovakia, Sweden, Greece, etc. In 1965, he lived for quite a long time on the island of Capri.

In 1965 he was nominated for Nobel Prize in literature, but at the request of the Soviet government was replaced by M. Sholokhov. Paustovsky - holder of the Order of Lenin and the Red Banner of Labor, was awarded big amount medals.

Tver Pedagogical College

By academic discipline"Children's literature"

Theme "Life and creative path K.G. Paustovsky"

Completed by: external student

by specialty preschool education

Remizova Natalia Alexandrovna

Teacher S.P. Dydyuk

Introduction

Chapter I. The life and creative path of K. G. Paustovsky

Conclusion

Bibliography

Introduction

Konstantin Georgievich Paustovsky is a writer in whose work high poetry inextricably and organically merges with the educational tendency. He was convinced that "in any field human knowledge lies the abyss of poetry." Paustovsky is a generally recognized master of words, who considered writing a vocation to which one should devote oneself entirely.

To have the right to write, you need to know life well, the future writer decided as a young man and went on a trip around the country, greedily absorbing impressions. Researcher of Paustovsky’s work L. Krementsov noted that the writer was allowed to grow into a major master first of all psychological type his personality - unusually emotional and at the same time strong-willed, and in addition, an excellent memory, a keen interest in people, in art, in nature; over the years - and broad erudition, culture, rich life experience.

Chapter 1. The life and creative path of K. G. Paustovsky

Konstantin Georgievich Paustovsky was born in Moscow on May 31 in Granatny Lane. Besides him, there were three more children in the family - two brothers and a sister. The family sang a lot, played the piano, and reverently loved the theater. Paustovsky's mother was a domineering and unkind woman. All her life she held “strong views”, which boiled down mainly to the tasks of raising children. His father served in the department railway, was an incorrigible dreamer and Protestant. Because of these qualities, he did not stay in one place for a long time and the family often moved: after Moscow they lived in Pskov, Vilna, and Kyiv. His parents divorced when Konstantin was in sixth grade, and the boy was sent to Ukraine to live with his grandfather’s family. former soldier, and Turkish grandmothers. From then on, he himself had to earn his own living and education. When the time came, the boy entered the First Kyiv Classical Gymnasium. His favorite subject was Russian literature, and, as the writer himself admitted, he spent more time reading books than preparing lessons.

In 1911, in the last class of the gymnasium, K.G. Paustovsky wrote his first story, and it was published in the Kiev literary magazine "Ogni". From then on, the decision to become a writer took a strong hold of him, and he began to subordinate his life to this single goal.

After graduating from high school, he spent two years at Kiev University, and then in 1914 he transferred to Moscow University and moved to Moscow. But the beginning World War did not allow him to complete his education, he went to the front as an orderly on the rear and field ambulance trains, and many later remembered with a kind word the skillful hands of this man. Paustovsky changed many professions: he was a counselor and conductor of the Moscow tram, a Russian language teacher and journalist, a worker at metallurgical plants, and a fisherman.

From 1923, he worked for several years as an editor at ROSTA (Russian Telegraph Agency). Paustovsky retained his editorial acumen for the rest of his life: he was an attentive and sensitive reader of young authors. But the writer was very critical of his own works; many remember how after reading his new work, even if the listeners received it enthusiastically, he could destroy what he had written at night.

In the twenties, his work was expressed in collections of stories and essays “Sea Sketches” (1925), “Minetoza” (1927), “Oncoming Ships” (1928) and in the novel “Shining Clouds” (1929). Their heroes are people of a romantic nature who do not tolerate everyday routine and strive for adventure.

The writer recalled his childhood and youth in the books “Distant Years”, “Restless Youth”, “Romantics”. His first works were full of bright, exotic colors. This is explained by the fact that in childhood the “wind of the extraordinary was constantly rustling around him” and he was haunted by the “desire for the extraordinary.” In the 30s, Paustovsky turned to historical theme and the genre of the story (“The Fate of Charles Lonseville”, “The Northern Tale”). Works that are considered examples of artistic and educational prose date back to the same time: “Colchis” (1934), “Black Sea” (1936), “Meshchera Side” (1930). In Paustovsky’s work, for the first time, a story, an essay, local history and scientific description.

After Paustovsky settled in Moscow, practically no major events happened in his life. Only in the thirties, following the example of other writers, he decided to renew his life impressions and went to the great construction sites of his time. The stories “Kara-Bugaz” (1932) and “Colchis” (1934) that appeared after this brought him fame. I finally decided on them main idea creativity of the writer - a person must treat the land on which he lives with care and reverence. In order to write the story “Kara-Bugaz”, Paustovsky traveled almost the entire coast of the Caspian Sea. Many of the characters in the story are real people, and the facts are genuine.

Since 1934, Paustovsky’s works have been mainly devoted to describing nature and depicting people of creative work. He discovers the special country of Meshchera - an area located south of Moscow - the region between Vladimir and Ryazan - where he arrived for the first time in 1930. Paustovsky called the Meshchersky region his second homeland. There he lived (with interruptions) for more than twenty years and there, according to him, he touched folk life, to the purest sources of the Russian language. “I found the greatest, simplest and most ingenuous happiness in the forested Meshchera region,” wrote Konstantin Georgievich. “The happiness of being close to one’s land, concentration and inner freedom, favorite thoughts and hard work.” That's why it was so strong influence forest region on Paustovsky’s writing consciousness, the mood of his images, on the poetics of his works.

What did the reader learn about from the descriptions of the then little-studied region! About its old map, which has to be corrected, the flow of its rivers and canals has changed so much; about lakes with mysterious water different color; about forests, “majestic as cathedrals" There are birds, fish, a she-wolf with her cubs, and the skull of a fossil deer with antlers spanning two and a half meters... But the main thing that remains in the reader’s soul is the feeling of touching a mystery. To the mystery of the charm of Russian nature, when “in an extraordinary, never-heard-of silence dawn arises... Everything is still asleep... And only owls fly around the fire slowly and silently, like clumps of white fluff.” Or when “the sunset glows heavily on the treetops, gilding them with ancient gilding. And below, at the foot of the pines, it is already dark and dull. They fly silently and seem to look into your face the bats. Some incomprehensible ringing is heard in the forests - the sound of the evening, the end of the day."

“The Meshchera Side” begins with the assurance that in this region “there are no special beauties and riches, except for forests, meadows and clear air.” But the more you get to know this “quiet and unwise land under a dim sky,” the more, “almost to the point of pain in your heart,” you begin to love it. The writer comes to this thought at the end of the story. He believed that touching one’s native nature and knowing it was the key to true happiness and the lot of the “initiated,” and not the ignorant. “A person who knows, for example, the life of plants and the laws flora“, much happier than the one who cannot even distinguish alder from aspen or clover from plantain.”

A close look at all manifestations of the life of people and nature did not muffle the romantic sound of Paustovsky’s prose. He said that romance does not contradict a keen interest in and love for the “rough life”; Almost all areas of human activity contain the golden seeds of romance.

There was everything that had attracted the writer since childhood - “dense forests, lakes, winding forest rivers, swamps, abandoned roads and even inns. K.G. Paustovsky wrote that he “owes many of his stories to Meshchera,” Summer days", "Meshcherskaya Side" and "The Tale of Forests".

Over the years writer's life he was on the Kola Peninsula, traveled to the Caucasus and Ukraine, the Volga, Kama, Don, Dnieper, Oka and Desna, Ladonezh and Onega lakes, was in Central Asia, in Altai, in Siberia, in our wonderful northwest - in Pskov, Novgorod, Vitebsk, in Pushkin’s Mikhailovsky, in Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Belarus. Impressions from these numerous trips, from meetings with very different people and - in each individual case - in their own way interesting people formed the basis for many of his stories and travel sketches.

Each of his books is a collection of many people different ages, nationalities, occupations, characters and actions. In addition to individual books about Levitan, Taras Shevchenko, he has chapters of novels and stories, stories and essays dedicated to Gorky, Tchaikovsky, Chekhov, Pushkin, Gogol, Lermontov, etc. But still more often he wrote about the simple and unknown - about artisans, shepherds, ferrymen, forest guards, watchmen and village children.

An important part of Paustovsky’s work was fictional biographies“Orest Kiprensky” (1937), “Isaac Levitan” (1937) and “Taras Shevchenko” (1939), as well as a collection of essays “Golden Rose”, the main theme of which was creativity.

Paustovsky, unlike many other writers, never wrote on the topic of the day. Even in the thirties, when many responded, for example, to the events associated with the conquest of the North, Paustovsky wrote primarily about the fate of people associated with this region - “The Northern Tale” (1938).

Paustovsky was a great storyteller, he knew how to see and discover the world in a new way, he always talked about the good, the bright and the beautiful. Therefore, it is absolutely no coincidence that he began to write for children.

Paustovsky’s peculiarity was his romantic perception of the world. True, he managed to remain realistically specific. A close look at all manifestations of the life of people and nature did not muffle the romantic sound of Paustovsky’s prose. He said that romance does not contradict a keen interest in and love for the “rough life”; Almost all areas of human activity contain the golden seeds of romance.

The seeds of romance are scattered with great generosity in Paustovsky’s short stories about children. In Badger's Nose (1935), the boy is endowed with special hearing and vision: he hears fish whispering; he sees ants making a ferry across a stream of pine bark and cobwebs. It is not surprising that it was given to him to see how the badger treated its burnt nose by sticking it in the wet and cold dust of an old pine stump. In the story “Lenka from the Small Lake” (1937), the boy really wants to find out what the stars are made of, and fearlessly goes through the swamps to look for a “meteor”. The story is full of admiration for the boy’s indefatigability, his keen observation: “Lenka was the first, out of many hundreds of people I met in my life, to tell me where and how fish sleep, how dry swamps smolder underground for years, how an old pine tree blooms and how together Small spiders make autumn migrations with birds.” The hero of both stories had real prototype- little friend of the writer Vasya Zotov. Paustovsky returned to his image more than once, endowing different names. In the story " Hare's feet"(1937), for example, he is Vanya Malyavin, tenderly caring for a hare with its paws singed in a forest fire.

An atmosphere of kindness and humor fills Paustovsky's stories and fairy tales about animals. A red, thieving cat (“The Thief Cat,” 1936), who for a long time tormented people with his incredible tricks and, finally. Caught red-handed, instead of punishment he receives a “wonderful dinner” and turns out to be capable of even “ noble deeds" The puppy chewed the plug of the rubber boat, and “a thick stream of air burst out of the valve with a roar, like water from a fire hose, hit him in the face, raised the fur on Murzik and threw him into the air.” The puppy was punished for his “hooligan behavior” and was not taken to the lake. But he performs a “puppy feat”: he runs alone at night through the forest to the lake. And now “Murzikin’s furry muzzle, wet with tears” presses against the narrator’s face (“Rubber Boat”, 1937).

Communication between people and animals should be based on love and respect, the writer is convinced. If this principle is violated - as in the fairy tale “Warm Bread” (1945) - then the most terrible events. The boy Filka offended the wounded horse, and then a severe frost fell on the village. Only Filka’s sincere repentance and his ardent desire to atone for his guilt finally led to the blowing of a “warm wind.” The romantic sharpness of the narrative, characteristic of Paustovsky’s writing style, manifests itself at the very beginning of the tale: “A tear rolled down from the horse’s eyes. The horse neighed pitifully, protractedly, waved its tail, and immediately a piercing wind howled in the bare trees, in the hedges and chimneys, a piercing wind whistled, the snow blew up, and powdered Filka’s throat.”

Characteristic Paustovsky's fairy tales are a skillful mixture of the real and the miraculous. Petya herds the collective farm calves, watches the beavers and birds, and looks at the flowers and herbs. But the story of an old bear’s attack on a herd is woven into the narrative. All the animals and birds find themselves on Petya’s side and fiercely fight the bear, threatening him with violence in human language (“Dense Bear”, 1948). The ordinary life of the girl Masha in “The Disheveled Sparrow” (1948) proceeds in parallel with fabulous life birds - the old crow and the lively sparrow Pashka. The crow stole a bouquet of glass flowers from Masha, and the sparrow took it away and brought it to the theater stage where Masha’s mother was dancing.

Fairy tale characters Paustovsky - “artel peasants”, a tree frog or a “caring flower” - help people, as in folk tales, in response to a kind attitude towards them. This is how the traditional didactic direction of his works intended for children is manifested. Harmony human feelings and beauty in nature - this is the ideal of K. G. Paustovsky.

Words by Konstantin Paustovsky “People usually go into nature as if on vacation. I thought that life in nature should be a constant state” can be a kind of leitmotif of the writer’s work. In Russian prose he remained primarily a singer of the nature of the Central Russian region.

For example, his fairy tales “The Ring of Steel” (1946), “The Deep Bear” (1948), “The Disheveled Sparrow” (1948) or “Warm Bread” (1954).

In his style, Paustovsky turned out to be close to Andersen: he also knew how to see the unusual in the ordinary, his works are always eventful, and any incident seems unusual, coming out of the usual series of things. Animals and birds are capable of conducting a very interesting dialogue with humans, while the main author's idea is always expressed unobtrusively and subtly. Paustovsky’s fairy tales are distinguished by some special grace; they are written in a simple and succinct language: “The music sang loudly and cheerfully about happiness,” “At night, chilled wolves howled in the forest,” “Just like snow, happy dreams and fairy tales rain down on people.” "

The circle of children's reading also included many of Paustovsky's works written about nature. The last years of the master’s work were devoted to the creation of a six-volume epic about the years he experienced; it was called “The Tale of Life”; it included several works by Paustovsky starting in 1945, when “Distant Years” were written. The next work from this cycle, “Restless Youth,” was published in 1955, two years later, “The Beginning of an Unknown Century,” and two years later, in 1959, “A Time of Great Expectations.” In 1960, “Throw to the South” appeared, and in 1963, “The Book of Wanderings.”

In life, Paustovsky was an unusually courageous man. His vision was constantly deteriorating, and the writer was tormented by asthma. But he tried not to show how hard it was for him, although his character was quite complex. Friends tried their best to help him.

Conclusion

Into history Russian literature Konstantin Georgievich Paustovsky entered as an inimitable master of words, an excellent connoisseur of Russian speech, who tried to preserve its freshness and purity.

After their appearance, Paustovsky’s works became very popular among young readers. Famous critic children's literature A. Roskin noted that if Chekhov's heroes from the story “Boys” had read Paustovsky, they would have fled not to America, but to Kara-Bugaz, to the Caspian Sea - so strong was the influence of his works on young souls.

His books teach you to love native nature, to be observant, to see the unusual in the ordinary and be able to fantasize, to be kind, honest, able to admit and correct one’s guilt, other important human qualities which are so necessary in life.

In Russian prose he remained primarily a singer of the nature of the Central Russian region.

Bibliography

1. Arzamastseva I.N. Children's literature: a textbook for students. higher ped. textbook establishments. M.: Publishing center "Academy", 2007.

2. Paustovsky K.G. Poetic radiation. Stories. Stories. Letters. M.: “Young Guard”, 1976.

3. Paustovsky K.G. Stories. Stories. Fairy tales. Publishing house "Children's Literature" Moscow, 1966.

4. Paustovsky K.G. Hare's Paws: Stories and Tales M.: Det. lit., 1987.

Konstantin Paustovsky is a classic in twentieth-century literature. All works are read with pleasure by adults, and children personify human and literary nobility. Paustovsky was born in Moscow into an intelligent family, theatergoers who loved to play the piano and sing. He died at seventy-six years old. He studied in Kyiv at a classical gymnasium. His parents divorced and he had to work part-time as a teacher.

After graduating from high school, he entered Kiev University at the Faculty of Law, but dreamed of becoming a writer. For himself, he decided that in order to write, he needed to “go into life” and gain life experience. In Moscow, he works as a carriage driver, then gets a job as an orderly on a rear train, shifts a lot different professions, was even a fisherman on the Sea of Azov.

In his free time from work, he wrote stories. During the revolution, he worked in Moscow as a newspaper reporter and described events. During Patriotic War he is a war correspondent. After the war, Paustovsky studied literary activity and writes: novels, stories, as well as short stories and fairy tales for children. Book "Stories and Tales about Animals and Nature." It includes famous stories:

The Adventures of the Rhinoceros Beetle;
Tree frog;
Steel ring;
Badger's nose and other works.

Read Paustovsky's biography for grade 3

Konstantin Georgievich Paustovsky was born on May 31, 1892 in Moscow. He grew up in the family of Georgy Maksimovich Paustovsky and Maria Grigorievna Paustovskaya, had two brothers and a sister. In 1904 he entered the Kyiv gymnasium. My favorite subjects in the gymnasium were geography and literature.

In 1912, having changed places of residence and schools many times, the young man began studying at the Faculty of History and Philology of Kyiv University, completing 2 courses. After the outbreak of the First World War, he transferred to Moscow University, but soon left it and began to work. Having changed many professions, he gets a job as an orderly at the front and participates in the retreat of the Russian army. After the death of his brothers, he returns to Moscow to his mother and sister, but does not stay there for long. The young man travels throughout the south of Russia, lives in Odessa for two years, working at the Mayak newspaper, and then leaves Odessa, goes to the Caucasus, also visiting northern Persia.

In 1923 he returned to the capital. He works as an editor at a telegraph agency for a couple of years and begins publishing. He also spent the 1930s traveling around the country, publishing many essays and stories. During the Great Patriotic War he became a military journalist and served on the Southern Front. In August 1941, he completed his service to work on a play for the Moscow Theater. art theater, moves to Alma-Ata, where he sits down to write the play “Until the Heart Stops” and the novel “Smoke of the Fatherland.”

In the 1950s he lived in Moscow and Tarusa, becoming one of the compilers of the collections “Literary Moscow” and “Tarussky Pages”. After receiving worldwide recognition, he travels around Europe and lives on the island of Capri. In 1966, he signed a letter from scientists and cultural figures about the inadmissibility of Stalin’s rehabilitation. Dies on July 14, 1968 in Moscow after a prolonged illness with asthma.

For children 3rd grade, 4th grade, 5th grade.

Biography by dates and interesting facts. The most important.

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