Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "FLOWERS"
Входимость: 8. Размер: 40кб.
Входимость: 2. Размер: 17кб.
Входимость: 2. Размер: 83кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 162кб.
Входимость: 1. Размер: 19кб.
Примерный текст на первых найденных страницах
Входимость: 8. Размер: 40кб.
Часть текста: feet. At the last station but one he had become so violent that he had had to be put in a strait jacket, for which purpose the assistance of the guards and a policeman had had to be resorted to. Thus bound he was brought to town and delivered at the hospital. He looked ghastly. Over his grey garment, which had been torn to shreds during his outburst of violence, was a tightly laced jacket of coarse canvas cut low at the neck; the long sleeves pinioned his crossed arms over his chest and were tied behind his back. His bloodshot dilated eyes (he had not slept for ten days) glittered with a feverish blazing light; his lower lip twitched with a nervous spasm; his curly matted hair hung over his forehead like a mane; he paced from corner to corner of the office with swift heavy strides, staring fixedly at the old file cabinets and the oilcloth-covered chairs, and throwing an occasional glance at his companions. "Take him in. The building on the right." "I know. I was here last year. We were inspecting the hospital. I know all about it, it will be difficult to deceive me," said the patient. He turned towards the door. The...
Входимость: 2. Размер: 17кб.
Часть текста: railings fashioned in the shape of spikelets, which had once been painted green, had cracked and crumbled, and the paint had all peeled off; the railings had been pulled out by the village boys to play soldiers with, and by peasants coming to the house, who used them to fight off the angry mongrel and the other dogs who kept him company. But the flower-garden was none the worse for this damage. The remains of the fence were entwined with hops, large white-flowered bindweed and mouse-ear chickweed, which hung upon them in pale-green clusters of pale-lilac flowers scattered here and there. The prickly thistles grew to such a size on the rich moist soil (all around the flower-garden was a large shady orchard) that they looked almost like trees. The yellow moth mulleins reared their flowery spikes still higher. The nettles occupied a pretty large corner of the flower-garden; they stung, of course, but then one could admire their dark foliage from a distance, especially when it made a background for the pale beauty of the delicate rose petals. The rose blossomed one fine May morning; when it opened out its petals the fleeing morning dew left several bright teardrops upon them. It seemed as if the rose was weeping. But the world around her was so beautiful, so clear and sunny on that lovely morning when first she saw...
Входимость: 2. Размер: 83кб.
Часть текста: в хронологическом порядке, соотнося определенные «сдвиги» в поэтике с этапами творческого пути. В исследованиях второго направления проза Гаршина освещается преимущественно в сравнительно-типологическом аспекте. В первую очередь здесь следует назвать статью Н. В. Кожуховской «Толстовская традиция в военных рассказах В. М. Гаршина» (1992), где особо отмечено, что в сознании персонажей Гаршина (как и в сознании героев Л. Н. Толстого) отсутствует «защитная психологическая реакция», которая позволила бы им не мучиться чувством вины и личной ответственности. Труды в гаршиноведении второй половины XX века посвящены сопоставлению творчества Гаршина и Ф. М. Достоевского (статья Ф. И. Евнина «Ф. М. Достоевский и В. М. Гаршин» (1962), кандидатская диссертация Г. А. Склейнис «Типология характеров в романе Ф. М. Достоевского "Братья Карамазовы" и в рассказах В. М. Гаршина 80-х гг.» (1992)). Третью группу составляют работы тех исследователей, которые сосредоточили свое внимание на изучении отдельных элементов поэтики гаршинской прозы, включая поэтику его психологизма. Особый интерес представляет диссертационное исследование В. И. Шубина «Мастерство психологического анализа в творчестве В. М. Гаршина» (1980). В наших наблюдениях мы опирались на его выводы о том, что отличительная особенность рассказов писателя - это «......
Входимость: 1. Размер: 162кб.
Часть текста: my face flame and my hands clench, and terror and rage clutch at my throat, as they did that day when I stood face to face with my mortal enemy? I cannot rid myself of these haunting memories, and an odd thought has occurred to me. Perhaps, if I put them down on paper, I shall be finished with them; perhaps they will haunt me no longer, and will let me die in peace. That is the special reason that makes me take up my pen. Perhaps someone will read this diary, perhaps not. It is immaterial to me. Therefore, I need not apologize to my future readers either for my choice of subject, which cannot have the slightest interest for people accustomed to dealing with social, if not world, problems, or for the form in which my writings are set forth. True, I should like these lines to be read by one person, but that person will not blame me. Everything that has to do with me is dear to her. That person is my cousin. What is keeping her so long today? It is three months now since I came to myself after that day. The first face that I saw was Sonya's. Ever since then she has been spending every evening with me. It has become with her a kind of...
Входимость: 1. Размер: 19кб.
Часть текста: Vast though the greenhouse was, they were cramped in it. The tangled roots fought one another for moisture and nutrition. The branches of the trees were entwined with the huge leaves of the palms, which they bent and broke, themselves pressing up against the iron frames and bending and breaking in turn. The gardeners were constantly lopping the branches and tying the leaves up with wire to curb their wild growth, but it did not help much. What the plants needed was the wide free spaces of their native habitats. They were natives of hot climes, tender, luxurious creations, who remembered their native countries and yearned for them. However transparent the glass roof might be, it was not the bright sky. Sometimes, in the winter, the panes froze over, and then it would grow quite dark in the greenhouse. The wind would howl and beat against the frames, and rattle them. Snow-drifts covered the roof. Listening to the howling of the wind, the plants would remember another wind, a warm humid wind that gave to them life and health. And they longed to feel its breath upon them again, to have it sway their branches and wanton with their leaves. But the air in the greenhouse was without a stir, except perhaps sometimes in the winter when the storm would smash a pane of glass and a cold sharp flurry, laden with hoarfrost, would find its...