Oblomovism is a state of mind characterized by personal stagnation and apathy. This word comes from the name of the main character of the famous novel by Goncharov. Throughout almost the entire narrative, Ilya Oblomov remains in a similar state. And, despite the efforts of his friend, his life ends tragically.

Roman Goncharova

This work is iconic in literature. The novel is dedicated to a condition characteristic of Russian society, which at first glance may seem to be nothing more than an extreme degree of laziness. However, the meaning of the word “Oblomovism” is deeper.

Critics called the work the pinnacle of I. A. Goncharov’s creativity. The novel clearly expresses its problems. The writer achieved in it clarity of style and completeness of composition. Ilya Ilyich Oblomov is one of the brightest characters in Russian literature of the nineteenth century.

The image of the main character

Ilya Oblomov comes from a family of landowners. His way of life became a distorted reflection of Domostroevsky norms. Oblomov spent his childhood and youth on the estate, where life was extremely monotonous. But the hero absorbed the values of his parents, if one can, of course, use this word to call a way of life in which Special attention gives in to sleep and long meals. And yet, the personality of Ilya Ilyich was formed precisely in such an atmosphere, which predetermined his fate.

The author characterizes his hero as an apathetic, withdrawn and dreamy man of thirty-two years old. Ilya Oblomov has a pleasant appearance, dark gray eyes, which lack any idea. His face lacks concentration. The characterization of Ilya Oblomov was given by Goncharov at the beginning of the novel. But as the story progresses, the hero reveals other traits: he is kind, honest, selfless. But main feature This character, unique in literature, is characterized by traditional Russian daydreaming.

Dreams

Ilya Ilyich Oblomov loves to dream above all else. His idea of happiness is somewhat utopian in nature. As a child, Ilya was surrounded by care and love. Peace and harmony reigned in the parental home. A loving nanny told him every evening colorful stories about beautiful sorceresses and miracles that could make a person happy instantly, once and for all. And there is no need to make any effort. A fairy tale can come true. You just have to believe.

Ilya Oblomov remembers his native estate so often, reclining on his sofa in a greasy, unchanging robe, that he begins to dream about the atmosphere of his native home. And there is nothing sweeter than these dreams. However, from time to time something brings him back to the gray, unsightly reality.

Oblomov and Stolz

As an antipode to the Russian dreamer from a landowner family, the author introduced into the work the image of a man of German origin. Stolz has no inclination to idle thoughts. He is a man of action. The meaning of his life is work. Promoting his ideas, Stolz criticizes Ilya Oblomov’s lifestyle.

These people have known each other since childhood. But when the son of the owner of Oblomovka, accustomed to the slow, unhurried rhythm of life, arrived in St. Petersburg, he was unable to adapt to life in the big city. The service in the office did not go well, and he found nothing better than to lie down on the sofa for many months and indulge in dreams. Stolz, on the contrary, is a man of action. He is not characterized by careerism, laziness, or negligence in relation to his work. But at the end of the novel, this hero still admits that his work does not have any high goals.

Olga Ilyinskaya

This heroine managed to “lift” Oblomov from the couch. Having met and fallen in love with her, he began to get up early in the morning. There was no longer any chronic drowsiness on my face. Apathy left Oblomov. Ilya Ilyich began to feel embarrassed about his old robe, hiding it away, out of sight.

Olga felt some sympathy for Oblomov, calling him a “heart of gold.” Ilya Ilyich had an extremely developed imagination, as evidenced by his colorful sofa fantasies. This quality is not bad. Its owner is always an interesting conversationalist. So was Ilya Oblomov. He was quite pleasant in conversation, despite the fact that he did not know the latest St. Petersburg gossip and news. But in actively caring for this man, Ilyinskaya was seduced by something else, namely, the desire to assert herself. She was a young lady, although very active. And the ability to influence a person older than her, to change his way of life and thoughts, incredibly inspired the girl.

The relationship between Oblomov and Ilyinskaya could not have a future. He needed the quiet, calm care that he received as a child. What frightened her was his indecision.

Oblomov's tragedy

Oblomov grew up in greenhouse conditions. In childhood, he may have shown childish playfulness, but excessive care on the part of his parents and nanny suppressed the manifestation of any activity. Ilyusha was protected from danger. And it turned out that although he grew up kind person, but deprived of the ability to fight, set a goal, and even more so achieve it.

At the service he was unpleasantly surprised. The bureaucratic world had nothing in common with Oblomov's paradise. Here it was every man for himself. And infantility and inability to exist in real life led to the fact that the slightest obstacle was perceived by Oblomov as a disaster. The service became unpleasant and difficult for him. He left her and went to his beautiful world dreams and daydreams.

The life of Ilya Oblomov is a consequence of unrealized potential and the gradual degradation of personality.

Goncharov's hero in real life

The image of Ilya Oblomov is collective. There are many people in Russia who cannot adapt to changing social and economic conditions. And especially many Oblomovs appear when the old way of life collapses. It becomes easier for such people to live in a non-existent world, remembering old times, rather than change themselves.

100 great literary heroes [with illustrations] Eremin Viktor Nikolaevich

Ilya Ilyich Oblomov

Ilya Ilyich Oblomov can rightfully be called the most unknown literary hero in world history. Inspired from above, its creator, Ivan Aleksandrovich Goncharov, judging by some of the writer’s statements, both in the novel itself and about the main character, assumed that he had described a certain type of his time, characteristic mainly only for Russia. In fact, in a somewhat exaggerated form, he brought to light a timeless, all-encompassing world way of life, the comprehension and true appreciation of which is yet to come to humanity.

The famous Russian critic N.A. must have understood Oblomov least of all. Dobrolyubov, who analyzed “Oblomov” in the article “What is Oblomovism?” studied in the school curriculum, in which he examined the hero of the novel from the standpoint of contemporary democratic views on the world order, and therefore hopelessly outdated in our days. Which, however, does not interfere literary critics XXI century persistently repeating ill-conceived and often false sayings of a once popular publicist.

What was the life experience, how was the character and talent of the creator of the novel “Oblomov” formed?

Ivan Aleksandrovich Goncharov was born on July 6, 1812 in Simbirsk into a wealthy merchant family. His father died when the boy was three years old, and the children, and the Goncharovs had four of them, remained in the care of their mother. The widow paid great attention to the education of her children, but in general, Ivan Aleksandrovich vividly described the first ten years of his life in the famous “Oblomov’s Dream” - it was a world of carefree, sleepy, lazy life of the inhabitants of a rich estate.

The future writer received his primary education in private boarding schools in Simbirsk and at home. Suffice it to say that at the age of 12 Vanyusha knew the work of G.R. very well. Derzhavina, M.M. Kheraskov and V.A. Ozerov, read historical works Sh.L. Rollena, I.I. Golikova, about the travels of Mungo Park, S.P. Krasheninnikova, P.S. Pallas and others.

Retired sailor Nikolai Nikolaevich Tregubov played a big role in Goncharov’s fate. A poor landowner, he did not want to be bored in the solitude of the village and rented an outbuilding in the Goncharovs’ town house. Soon Nikolai Nikolaevich became friends with the father of the future writer, became the godfather of his children and lived with the Goncharov family until his death, almost fifty years.

Tregubov was an enlightened man; he spared no expense in obtaining magazines, books, and brochures from the capitals. He did not read novels or fiction in general; he preferred books mainly of historical and political content and newspapers. Nikolai Nikolaevich was an expert in his profession. Goncharov recalled: “His conversations about mathematical and physical geography, astronomy, cosmogony in general, and then navigation were especially clear and invaluable to me. He introduced me to a map of the starry sky, clearly explained the movement of the planets, the rotation of the Earth, everything that my school mentors could not or did not want to do. I saw clearly that they were children before him in these technical lessons taught to me. He had some nautical instruments, a telescope, a sextant, and a chronometer. Between the books he had the travels of all the circumnavigators around the world, from Cook to recent times... I greedily devoured his stories and became engrossed in his travels.

“Oh, if you had completed at least four naval campaigns, that would have made me happy,” he often used to say in conclusion. I thought in response to this: I was already drawn to the sea, or at least to the water...”

Let us note that it was from Tregubov that the writer subsequently took a number of Oblomov’s character traits.

In 1822, at the age of ten, Goncharov was taken to Moscow and placed in one of the secondary institutions intended exclusively for nobles. From that time on, Ivan Alexandrovich visited home only in the summer on vacation.

In 1831, Goncharov entered the literature department of Moscow University, after which he returned to Simbirsk, where he soon became a member of the house of the Simbirsk governor A.M. Zagryazhsky. A year later Zagryazhsky took young man with him to St. Petersburg and contributed to his employment in the capital. Goncharov first worked as a translator in the Department of Foreign Trade, then became the head of the department there.

In the 1830s. Ivan Alexandrovich became close to the family of academician of painting Nikolai Apollonovich Maykov, in particular, with his sons Valerian and Apollo. He even undertook to teach the Maykov brothers history. Ivan Aleksandrovich also wrote in the handwritten journal of the Maykovs’ literary salon “Snowdrop”. Few salon participants knew Goncharov’s story “The Happy Mistake,” which already contained some of the images and situations of “Oblomov.”

Ivan Aleksandrovich created his first novel, “An Ordinary Story,” according to the calculations of some literary scholars, for six years! The novel was published in the Sovremennik magazine in 1847, and thirty-five-year-old Goncharov immediately became one of the leading writers in Russia.

Immediately after publication " Ordinary history“The writer began work on the novel “Oblomov”. Initially, it was difficult for Ivan Aleksandrovich. In February 1849, an excerpt entitled “Oblomov’s Dream” was published, and the first part of the novel was roughly completed by 1850.

However, then the matter significantly stalled. In 1852, Ivan Alexandrovich, with the assistance of the Minister of Public Education A.S. Norova “was sent to fill the position of secretary under the admiral (E.V. Putyatin) during an expedition to Russian American possessions.” Thus Tregubov’s dream came true, and his favorite went on a long voyage.

Before this campaign, Goncharov “had not traveled anywhere in the sea beyond Kronstadt and Peterhof.” During the expedition, Ivan Alexandrovich wrote letters that were published in the “Sea Collection”. From them, a two-volume description of the voyage “Frigate “Pallada”” was subsequently compiled - one of best works Russian literature of this genre.

In the ocean, Goncharov continued to work on the image of Oblomov. Apparently, it was then that the writer developed a largely controversial concept about the national specifics of Oblomovism (the author’s term). Goncharov contrasted the always active, busy, hasty Englishman with the lazy and calm Russian master. Where the writer got this comparison from is unclear. One can, of course, have no doubt about the writer’s excellent knowledge of the character of many Russian landowners, but two months of superficial observation could hardly have been enough for him to understand the character of the English. Or was it a preconceived point of view, for which the author was only purposefully seeking confirmation?

“Oblomov” was created for almost nine more years. In 1857, Goncharov went abroad to Marienbad, where within seven weeks he wrote almost all of the last three volumes of the novel. However, the final version of “Oblomov” was published only in 1859 in the first four books of the journal “Otechestvennye zapiski”, when the editor-in-chief of the magazine was still A.A. Kraevsky.

To say that “Oblomov” became an event in the life of society in pre-reform Russia means to say nothing. Goncharov's contemporary critic A.M. Skabichevsky wrote: “You had to live at that time to understand what a sensation this novel aroused among the public and what a stunning impression it made on the whole society. He fell like a bomb into the intelligentsia just at the time of the strongest public excitement, three years before the liberation of the peasants...” Note that “Oblomov” appeared less than three years after Russia’s defeat in the Crimean War of 1853–1856, when Russian society were still vigorously discussing the causes of the disaster. Many people suddenly saw in Oblomovism main reason this tragedy.

Ivan Aleksandrovich, working on Oblomov, apparently did not intend to engage in incrimination. The most accurate interpretation of the main character’s surname is a fragment of good old Rus', who finds himself face to face with the animal mug that has strengthened and entered into the power of free enterprise. Kind, weak-willed, powerless to resist the boor, Oblomov, having the financial opportunity to do so, tries to escape from the world of evil into a bright, good dream about the past, about a carefree childhood. He hopes to hide in the snares of Morpheus, but fussy businessmen every now and then pull the “snail” into the light of God and force Ilya Ilyich to live by their rules.

It was not for nothing that Goncharov gave Oblomov many of his own traits and properties of the people he loved. But later the writer succumbed to the pressure of aggressive critics and himself began to declare the accusatory nature of his work, fortunately this was facilitated by some of the author’s digressions in the novel.

Democratic criticism (later picked up and inflated by Soviet criticism) raised a special hubbub around Oblomov. It is characterized by the following words of Dobrolyubov: “The story of how the good-natured sloth Oblomov lies and sleeps and how neither friendship nor love can awaken and raise him is not God knows what an important story. But it reflects Russian life, in it a living modern Russian type appears before us, minted with merciless severity and correctness; it expressed a new word for our social development, pronounced clearly and firmly, without despair and without childish hopes, but with a full consciousness of the truth. This word is Oblomovism; it serves as a key to unraveling many phenomena of Russian life, and it gives Goncharov’s novel much more public importance than all our accusatory stories have.” Every last word is a lie and nonsense!”

Let's remember what all this political fuss was hyped around.

The novel begins with the fact that in St. Petersburg, on Gorokhovaya Street, Ilya Ilyich Oblomov is lying in bed, a young man of about thirty-two to thirty-three, who does not burden himself with special activities. Lying in bed is his way of life, philosophically justified and not annoying to others. A man who is financially secure from his ancestors, has no family and can afford idleness, he irritates his acquaintances, who scurry around him with numerous petty squabbles and claims. Oblomov tries to get rid of them either with jokes or by diverting the conversation to topics that interest him. Useless!

Ilya Ilyich is waiting for his childhood friend Andrei Stolts, who, in his opinion, is the only one who can help him with really important issues of farming and generating income from his property.

When Oblomov’s acquaintances leave him alone, he falls asleep in a sweet sleep, in which he remembers his past, long-gone life in his native Oblomovka, where there is nothing wild or grandiose, where everything breathes tenderness, light, kindness and serene peace.

But for some reason, it was Oblomov’s Dream that aroused particular rejection among the frantic democratic public of Russia. Dobrolyubov, in particular, “convicted”: “In Oblomovka, no one asked themselves the question: why is life, what is it, what is its meaning and purpose? Oblomov’s followers understood it very simply, “as an ideal of peace and inaction, violated from time to time by various unpleasant accidents, such as illness, losses, quarrels and, among other things, labor. They endured labor as a punishment imposed on our forefathers, but they could not love, and where there was a chance, they always got rid of it, finding it possible and necessary.”

It is unlikely that the famous critic would be able to say: when and where was this not so and what is wrong with this way of life for the vast majority of the inhabitants of planet Earth? Throughout the affluent world, most people “eat, sleep, discuss the news; life flows smoothly, flowing from autumn to winter, from spring to summer, to again complete its eternal circles.” What is their crime and why is the so-called Oblomovism terrible, if it is what Dobrolyubov is indignant about? Apparently, the fact is that the critic did not understand the universality, indestructibility, harmlessness, and therefore innocence of Oblomov.

The world of Oblomovka is cozy, almost fabulous, however, as always, the world of childhood is cozy and fabulous. That is why Ilya Ilyich prefers joyful dreams to the boredom of fussing idlers and active false creators, every now and then striving to grab more and more fat from the less powerful. However, it was this world that was declared by critics to be “a parodic and ironic idyll of the “golden age”.”

But then Oblomov’s friend Andrei Ivanovich Stolts arrived. The second part of the novel begins with this event.

Stolz set out to drag Oblomov into the nonsense of secular existence, which he imagined real life. A friend pulled Ilya Ilyich out of bed and began to take him to different houses - to get acquainted and communicate, to carry on empty conversations. For some reason, many people still see the meaning of life in this.

During one of these visits, Ilya Ilyich fell in love with Olga Ilyinskaya, but not for long. They usually say that Oblomov missed his love. Is it so? Perhaps this artless, shy man simply did not dare to express his feelings to the girl who was practically pressing him? For Oblomov, such behavior is completely justified - he is a man not of this world, and the real Ilyinskaya was obliged to help him, but did not do so. So who really betrayed love? Isn't it Ilyinskaya?

By the will of fate, having found himself in the house of Agafya Matveevna Pshenitsyna, Oblomov, at first imperceptibly, and then more and more clearly feels the atmosphere of his native Oblomovka, for which he yearns all his life. A kind, simple-minded woman becomes Ilya Ilyich’s common-law wife and cooks for him. delicious dishes, improves his life, finally gives birth to his son Andryusha. And Oblomov again, until the end of his life, plunges into the world of dreams.

Olga Ilyinskaya married Stolz, who, in the end, dispersed all of Oblomov’s enemies who intended to take over his property.

By the end of his life, Oblomov became “a complete and natural reflection and expression ... of peace, contentment and serene silence. Looking and reflecting on his life and becoming more and more comfortable in it, he finally decided that he had nowhere else to go, nothing to look for...” That's how he died, from a fever.

Later, the Stoltsy begged Oblomov’s son Andryusha to be raised. And Agafya Matveevna kept “the memory of the soul of the deceased, pure as crystal,” all her life.

Goncharov’s last words must be especially remembered when assessing the image of Ilya Ilyich. Apparently, they contain main meaning both the novel and its main character. And all other idle reasoning is from the evil one.

In particular, let us cite Dobrolyubov’s curious opinion about Oblomovism and the numerous, in his opinion, “Oblomovs”: “Everything with them is external, nothing has a root in their nature. They, perhaps, do something like this when forced by external necessity, just like Oblomov went to visit where Stolz dragged him, bought notes and books for Olga, read what she forced him to read. But their soul does not lie in the task that is imposed on them by chance. If each of them were offered for free all the external benefits that their work brings them, they would gladly give up their business. Due to Oblomovism, an Oblomov official will not take office if his salary is already retained and he is promoted to rank. The warrior will take an oath not to touch the weapon if he is offered the same conditions and even keeps it beautiful shape, very useful in certain cases. The professor will stop giving lectures, the student will stop studying, the writer will give up authorship, the actor will not appear on stage, the artist will break his chisel and palette, speaking in a high style, if he finds the opportunity to get for nothing everything that he now achieves with labor. They only talk about higher aspirations, about the consciousness of moral duty, about the penetration of common interests, but in reality it turns out that all this is words and words. Their most sincere, sincere desire for peace, for a robe, and their very activity is nothing more than an honorary robe (in an expression that does not belong to us), with which they cover up their emptiness and apathy.”

In other words, by chance, Dobrolyubov, who was doing what he loved, undertook, through condemnation of the phenomenon of Oblomovism, to condemn the way of life and existence of the overwhelming majority of humanity, attributing to them unprecedented and unheard-of sins for what was predetermined for us from above. And we have all been repeating this babble for many years, drumming it into the heads of new and new generations of Russians.

Much more important in Dobrolyubov’s article is the following thought (let’s relate it to our days): “If I now see a landowner talking about the rights of humanity and the need for personal development, I already know from his first words that this is Oblomov... When I read in magazines liberal outbursts against abuses and joy that what we had long hoped and desired was finally done - I think that everyone writes this from Oblomovka. When I am in a circle of educated people who ardently sympathize with the needs of humanity and for many years, with undiminished fervor, tell the same

(and sometimes new) anecdotes about bribe-takers, about oppression, about lawlessness of all kinds - I involuntarily feel that I have been transported to the old Oblomovka...

Stop these people in their noisy ranting and say: “You say that this and that is not good; what needs to be done?” They don’t know... Offer them the simplest remedy - they will say: “how can this happen so suddenly?” They will certainly say, because the Oblomovs cannot answer otherwise...

Continue the conversation with them and ask: what are you going to do? “They will answer you with what Rudin answered Natalya: “What should I do? Of course, submit to fate. What to do! I know too well how bitter, difficult, unbearable it is, but, judge for yourself..." and so on... You won’t expect anything more from them, because the stamp of Oblomovism lies on all of them."

If exactly what is quoted above is Oblomovism, then it is truly disgusting, immortal and universal. The entire 20th century convinced us of this, and modern times convince us of this even more. But what does dear, glorious and kind Ilya Ilyich Oblomov have to do with it? Why has he been branded and sneezed at so much for almost two hundred years now, and his name has become a household name and means a slacker and a couch potato?

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Bykova N. G. I. A. Goncharov’s novel “Oblomov” In 1859, the magazine “Otechestvennye zapiski” published I. A. Goncharov’s novel “Oblomov”. In terms of clarity of problems and conclusions, integrity and clarity of style, compositional completeness and harmony, the novel is the pinnacle of creativity.

In the novel “Oblomov,” Ivan Goncharov touches on the problem of the formation of a personality who grew up in an environment where they tried in every possible way to infringe on the expression of independence.

The image and characterization of Oblomov will help the reader understand what people become who are accustomed from childhood to getting what they want with the help of others.

External image of Ilya Ilyich Oblomov

“He was a man about thirty-two or three years old, of average height, with dark gray eyes, of pleasant appearance.”

It was difficult to discern certain emotions on the man’s face. Thoughts wandered around him, but disappeared too quickly, reminiscent of birds.

Ilya Ilyich Oblomov was full. Small, plump arms, narrow shoulders, and a pale neck indicated excessive delicacy. In his youth, the master was distinguished by his slimness. The girls liked the handsome blond man. Now he's gone bald. Andrey Stolts advises his friend to reset excess weight, arguing that it makes you sleepy. When visiting Oblomov’s apartment, he often sees that the master is sleeping on the move, looking for any excuse to lie down on the sofa. And swelling makes it clear that your health is bad. The reason could be the kilograms gained.

Rising from the bed, Oblomov groans like an old man. He calls himself:

“a shabby, worn out, flabby caftan.”

Recently, Ilya Ilyich attended all kinds of social events. Soon going out into the world began to depress him. Traveling with guests required a neat appearance, but he was tired of the daily change of shirts and the requirement to be clean-shaven. Taking care of his own appearance seemed to him a “stupid idea.”

His clothes are always sloppy. Bed linen is rarely changed. Servant Zakhar often makes comments to him. Stolz assures us that people haven’t been wearing robes like the ones he wears for a long time. The socks he wears are from different pairs. He could easily have worn his shirt inside out and not noticed.

“Oblomov was always in the house without a tie or vest. He loved space and freedom. The shoes on my feet were wide. When I lowered my legs from the bed, I immediately fell into them.”

Many details appearance they say that Ilya is really lazy and indulges his own weaknesses.

Housing and life

For about eight years, Ilya Oblomov has been living in a spacious rented apartment, in the very center of St. Petersburg. Of the four rooms, only one is used. It serves as his bedroom, dining room, and reception room.

“The room where Ilya lay seemed perfectly decorated. There was a mahogany bureau, two sofas upholstered in expensive fabrics, and luxurious screens with embroidery. There were carpets, curtains, paintings, expensive porcelain figurines.”

Interior items were expensive items. But this did not brighten up the negligence emanating from every corner of the room.

There were a lot of cobwebs on the walls and ceiling. The furniture was covered with a thick layer of dust. After meetings with his beloved Olga Ilyinskaya, he would come home, sit on the sofa, and draw her name in large letters on the dusty table. Various objects were placed on the table. There were dirty plates and towels, last year's newspapers, books with yellowed pages. There are two sofas in Oblomov's room.

Attitude to learning. Education

At the age of thirteen, Ilya was sent to study at a boarding school in Verkhlevo. Learning to read and write did not attract the boy.

“Father and mother put Ilyusha in front of a book. It was worth the loud cries, tears and whims.”

When he had to leave for training, he came to his mother and asked her to stay at home.

“He came to his mother sadly. She knew the reason, and secretly sighed about being separated from her son for a whole week.”

I studied at the university without enthusiasm. I was absolutely not interested in additional information, I read what the teachers asked.

He was content with writing in a notebook.

In the life of student Oblomov there was a passion for poetry. Comrade Andrei Stolts brought him various books from the family library. At first he read them with delight, but soon abandoned them, which was to be expected from him. Ilya managed to graduate from university, but the necessary knowledge was not deposited in his head. When it was necessary to demonstrate his knowledge of law and mathematics, Oblomov failed. I have always believed that education is sent to a person as retribution for sins.

Service

After training, time passed faster.

Oblomov “never made any progress in any field, he continued to stand at the threshold of his own arena.”

Something had to be done, and he decided to go to St. Petersburg to establish himself in the service as a clerical clerk.

At 20, he was quite naive; certain views on life could be attributed to inexperience. The young man was sure that

“The officials formed a friendly, close family, concerned about mutual peace and pleasure.”

He also believed that there was no need to attend services every day.

“Slush, heat or simply a lack of desire can always serve as a legitimate excuse for not going to work. Ilya Ilyich was upset when he saw that he had to be at work strictly adhering to the schedule. I suffered from melancholy, despite the condescending boss.”

After working for two years, I made a serious mistake. When sending an important document, I confused Astrakhan with Arkhangelsk. I didn’t wait for a reprimand. I wrote a report about leaving, but before that I stayed at home, hiding behind my failing health.

After the circumstances that occurred, he made no attempts to return to service. He was glad that he didn’t need it now:

“from nine to three, or from eight to nine, write reports.”

Now he is absolutely sure that work cannot make a person happy.

Relationships with others

Ilya Ilyich seems quiet, absolutely non-conflicting.

“An observant person, glancing briefly at Oblomov, would say: “Good guy, simplicity!”

His communication with his servant Zakhar from the very first chapters can radically change his opinion. He often raises his voice. Lackey really deserves a little shake-up. The master pays him for maintaining order in the apartment. He often puts off cleaning. Finds hundreds of reasons why cleaning is impossible today. There are already bedbugs, cockroaches in the house, and occasionally a mouse runs through. It is for all sorts of violations that the master scolds him.

Guests come to the apartment: Oblomov’s former colleague Sudbinsky, writer Penkin, fellow countryman Tarantiev. Each of those present tells Ilya Ilyich, who is lying in bed, about his eventful life, and is invited to take a walk and unwind. However, he refuses everyone, leaving the house is a burden for him. The master is afraid that it will leak through him. In every sentence he sees a problem and expects a catch.

“Although Oblomov is affectionate with many, he sincerely loves one, trusts him alone, maybe because he grew up and lived with him. This is Andrei Ivanovich Stolts.”

It will become clear that despite his indifference to all kinds of entertainment, Oblomov does not dislike people. They still want to cheer him up and make another attempt to pull him out of his beloved bed.

Living with the widow Pshenitsyna, Ilya takes great pleasure in working with her children, teaching them to read and write. With the aunt of his beloved Olga Ilyinskaya, he easily finds common topics for conversation. All this proves Oblomov’s simplicity, the lack of arrogance, which is inherent in many landowners.

Love

With Olga Ilyinskaya Oblomov his friend Andrey Stolts will introduce him. Her piano playing will leave a lasting impression on him. At home, Ilya did not sleep a wink all night. In his thoughts he painted the image of a new acquaintance. I remembered every feature of his face with trepidation. After that, he began to visit the Ilyinsky estate often.

Confessing his love to Olga will plunge her into embarrassment. They haven't seen each other for a long time. Oblomov moves to live in a rented dacha located near his beloved’s house. I just couldn’t control myself enough to visit her again. But fate itself will bring them together, organizing a chance meeting for them.

Inspired by feelings, Oblomov changes for the better.

"He gets up at seven o'clock. There is no fatigue or boredom on the face. Shirts and ties shine like snow. His coat is beautifully tailored.”

Feelings have a positive effect on his self-education. He reads books and doesn't lie idle on the couch. Writes letters to the estate manager with requests and instructions to improve the situation of the estate. Before his relationship with Olga, he always put it off until later. Dreams of family and children.

Olga becomes more and more convinced of his feelings. He carries out all her instructions. However, “Oblomovism” does not let the hero go. Soon it begins to seem to him that he:

“is in Ilyinskaya’s service.”

In his soul there is a struggle between apathy and love. Oblomov believes that it is impossible to feel sympathy for someone like him. “It’s funny to love someone like that, with flabby cheeks and sleepy eyes.”

The girl responds to his guesses with crying and suffering. Seeing the sincerity in her feelings, he regrets what he said. After a while, he again begins to look for a reason to avoid meetings. And when his beloved comes to him, he can’t get enough of her beauty and decides to propose marriage to her. However, the current way of life takes its toll.

A novel in four parts

Part one

I

In Gorokhovaya Street, in one of the large houses, the population of which would be equal to the entire county town, Ilya Ilyich Oblomov was lying in bed in his apartment in the morning. He was a man about thirty-two or three years old, of average height, pleasant appearance, with dark gray eyes, but with the absence of any definite idea, any concentration in his facial features. The thought walked like a free bird across the face, fluttered in the eyes, sat on half-open lips, hid in the folds of the forehead, then completely disappeared, and then an even light of carelessness glowed throughout the face. From the face, carelessness passed into the poses of the whole body, even into the folds of the dressing gown. Sometimes his gaze darkened with an expression as if of fatigue or boredom; but neither fatigue nor boredom could for a moment drive away from the face the softness that was the dominant and fundamental expression, not only of the face, but of the whole soul; and the soul shone so openly and clearly in the eyes, in the smile, in every movement of the head and hand. And a superficially observant, cold person, glancing in passing at Oblomov, would say: “He must be a good man, simplicity!” A deeper and prettier man, having peered into his face for a long time, would have walked away in pleasant thought, with a smile. Ilya Ilyich’s complexion was neither ruddy, nor dark, nor positively pale, but indifferent or seemed so, perhaps because Oblomov was somehow flabby beyond his years: perhaps from lack of exercise or air, or maybe that and another. In general, his body, judging by the matte, too white light of his neck, small plump arms, soft shoulders, seemed too pampered for a man. His movements, even when he was alarmed, were also restrained by softness and laziness, not without a kind of grace. If a cloud of care came over your face from your soul, your gaze became cloudy, wrinkles appeared on your forehead, and a game of doubt, sadness, and fear began; but rarely did this anxiety congeal in the form of a definite idea, and even more rarely did it turn into an intention. All anxiety was resolved with a sigh and died away in apathy or dormancy. How well Oblomov’s home suit suited his calm facial features and pampered body! He was wearing a robe made of Persian material, a real oriental robe, without the slightest hint of Europe, without tassels, without velvet, without a waist, very roomy, so that Oblomov could wrap himself in it twice. The sleeves, in constant Asian fashion, went wider and wider from the fingers to the shoulder. Although this robe had lost its original freshness and in places replaced its primitive, natural gloss with another, acquired one, it still retained the brightness of the oriental paint and the strength of the fabric. The robe had in Oblomov’s eyes a darkness of invaluable merits: it is soft, flexible; the body does not feel it on itself; he, like an obedient slave, submits to the slightest movement of the body. Oblomov always walked around the house without a tie and without a vest, because he loved space and freedom. His shoes were long, soft and wide; when he, without looking, lowered his feet from the bed to the floor, he certainly fell into them immediately. Lying down for Ilya Ilyich was neither a necessity, like that of a sick person or like a person who wants to sleep, nor an accident, like that of someone who is tired, nor a pleasure, like that of a lazy person: it was his normal state. When he was at home - and he was almost always at home - he kept lying down, and always in the same room where we found him, which served as his bedroom, study and reception room. He had three more rooms, but he rarely looked in there, perhaps in the morning, and then not every day, when a man cleaned his office, which was not done every day. In those rooms, the furniture was covered with covers, the curtains were drawn. The room where Ilya Ilyich was lying seemed at first glance to be beautifully decorated. There was a mahogany bureau, two sofas upholstered in silk, beautiful screens with embroidered birds and fruits unprecedented in nature. There were silk curtains, carpets, several paintings, bronze, porcelain and many beautiful little things. But the experienced eye of a person with pure taste, with one quick glance at everything that was here, would only read a desire to somehow observe the decorum of inevitable decency, just to get rid of them. Oblomov, of course, only bothered about this when he was cleaning his office. Refined taste would not be satisfied with these heavy, ungraceful mahogany chairs and rickety bookcases. The back of one sofa sank down, the glued wood came loose in places. The paintings, vases, and small items bore exactly the same character. The owner himself, however, looked at the decoration of his office so coldly and absent-mindedly, as if he was asking with his eyes: “Who brought and installed all this here?” Because of such a cold view of Oblomov on his property, and perhaps also from an even colder view of the same subject by his servant, Zakhar, the appearance of the office, if you examined it more closely, struck you with the neglect and negligence that prevailed in it. On the walls, near the paintings, cobwebs, saturated with dust, were molded in the form of festoons; mirrors, instead of reflecting objects, could rather serve as tablets for writing down some notes on them in the dust for memory. The carpets were stained. There was a forgotten towel on the sofa; On rare mornings there was not a plate with a salt shaker and a gnawed bone on the table that had not been cleared away from yesterday’s dinner, and there were no bread crumbs lying around. If it weren’t for this plate, and the freshly smoked pipe leaning against the bed, or the owner himself lying on it, then one would think that no one lives here - everything was so dusty, faded and generally devoid of living traces of human presence . On the shelves, however, there were two or three open books, a newspaper, and an inkwell with feathers on the bureau; but the pages on which the books were unfolded were covered with dust and turned yellow; it is clear that they were abandoned a long time ago; The issue of the newspaper was last year, and if you dipped a pen into it from the inkwell, a frightened fly would only escape with a buzz. Ilya Ilyich woke up, contrary to usual, very early, at eight o’clock. He is very concerned about something. His face alternated between fear, melancholy and annoyance. It was clear that he was overcome by an internal struggle, and his mind had not yet come to the rescue. The fact is that Oblomov the day before received an unpleasant letter from the village, from his village elder. It is known what kind of troubles the headman can write about: crop failure, arrears, decrease in income, etc. Although the headman wrote exactly the same letters to his master last year and in the third year, this last letter had as strong an effect as any an unpleasant surprise. Is it easy? It was necessary to think about means to take some measures. However, we must give justice to Ilya Ilyich’s care for his affairs. Following the first unpleasant letter from the headman, received several years ago, he had already begun to create in his mind a plan for various changes and improvements in the management of his estate. According to this plan, various new economic, police and other measures were supposed to be introduced. But the plan was still far from being fully thought out, and the headman’s unpleasant letters were repeated annually, prompting him to activity and, therefore, disturbing the peace. Oblomov was aware of the need to do something decisive before the plan was completed. As soon as he woke up, he immediately intended to get up, wash his face and, having drunk tea, think carefully, figure out something, write down and generally do this matter properly. For half an hour he lay there, tormented by this intention, but then he decided that he would still have time to do this after tea, and he could drink tea, as usual, in bed, especially since nothing prevents him from thinking while lying down. So I did. After tea he had already risen from his bed and was about to get up; Looking at the shoes, he even began to lower one foot from the bed towards them, but immediately picked it up again. Half past ten struck, Ilya Ilyich perked up. What am I really? he said out loud with annoyance. You need to know your conscience: it’s time to get down to business! Just give yourself free reign and... Zakhar! he shouted. In the room, which was separated only by a small corridor from Ilya Ilyich’s office, one heard first the grumbling of a chained dog, then the sound of feet jumping from somewhere. It was Zakhar who jumped off the couch, where he usually spent time, sitting deep in a doze. entered the room old man, in a gray frock coat, with a hole under the arm, from which a piece of a shirt was sticking out, in a gray vest, with copper buttons, with a skull as bare as a knee and with immensely wide and thick brown and gray sideburns, of which each would be three beards long . Zakhar did not try to change not only the image given to him by God, but also his costume, which he wore in the village. His dress was made according to a sample he had taken from the village. He also liked the gray frock coat and waistcoat because in this semi-uniform clothing he saw a faint memory of the livery that he had once worn when accompanying the late gentlemen to church or on a visit; and the livery in his memories was the only representative of the dignity of the Oblomov house. Nothing else reminded the old man of the lordly, wide and peaceful life in the wilderness of the village. The old gentlemen have died, the family portraits are left at home and, guess what, are lying around somewhere in the attic; legends about old life and the importance of the surname fades away or lives only in the memory of the few old people left in the village. Therefore, the gray frock coat was dear to Zakhar: in it, and also in some of the signs preserved in the master’s face and manners, reminiscent of his parents, and in his whims, which, although he grumbled, both to himself and out loud, but which between thus he respected internally, as a manifestation of the lord’s will, the master’s right; he saw faint hints of outdated greatness. Without these whims, he somehow did not feel the master above him; without them, nothing could resurrect his youth, the village they left long ago, and the legends about this ancient house, the only chronicle kept by old servants, nannies, mothers and passed on from generation to generation. The Oblomov house was once rich and famous in its own right, but then, God knows why, it became poorer, smaller, and finally, imperceptibly lost among the old noble houses. Only the gray-haired servants of the house kept and passed on to each other the faithful memory of the past, cherishing it as if it were a shrine. That's why Zakhar loved his gray frock coat so much. Perhaps he valued his sideburns because in his childhood he saw many old servants with this ancient, aristocratic decoration. Ilya Ilyich, deep in thought, did not notice Zakhar for a long time. Zakhar stood in front of him silently. Finally he coughed. What are you? asked Ilya Ilyich. You called? Did you call? Why did I call you? I don’t remember! “he answered, stretching. Go to your room for now, and I’ll remember. Zakhar left, and Ilya Ilyich continued to lie and think about the damned letter. About a quarter of an hour passed. Well, stop lying down! “he said, “you have to get up... But by the way, let me read the headman’s letter with attention again, and then I’ll get up.” Zakhar! Again the same jump and the grunt stronger. Zakhar entered, and Oblomov again fell into thought. Zakhar stood for about two minutes, unfavorably, looking a little sideways at the master, and finally went to the door. Where are you going? Oblomov suddenly asked. You don’t say anything, so why stand here for nothing? “Zakhar wheezed, for lack of another voice, which, according to him, he lost while hunting with dogs, when he rode with the old master and when it seemed like a strong wind blew into his throat. He stood half-turned in the middle of the room and kept looking sideways at Oblomov. Have your legs become so withered that you can’t stand? You see, I'm concerned just wait! Have you stayed there yet? Find the letter that I received from the headman yesterday. Where are you taking him? What letter? “I haven’t seen any letter,” said Zakhar. You accepted it from the postman: it’s so dirty! Where did they put it? Why should I know? “Zakhar said, patting the papers and various things lying on the table with his hand. You never know anything. There, in the basket, look! Or did it fall behind the sofa? The back of the sofa has not yet been repaired; Why should you call a carpenter to fix it? After all, you broke it. You won't think about anything! “I didn’t break it,” answered Zakhar, “she broke herself; It won’t last forever: it has to break someday. Ilya Ilyich did not consider it necessary to prove the contrary. Found it, or what? he only asked. Here are some letters. Not those. “Well, not anymore,” said Zakhar. Well, okay, go ahead! Ilya Ilyich said impatiently. I’ll get up and find it myself. Zakhar went to his room, but as soon as he put his hands on the couch to jump on it, a hurried cry was heard again: “Zakhar, Zakhar!” Oh, my God! Zakhar grumbled, going back to the office. What kind of torment is this? If only death would come sooner! What do you want? he said, holding the door of the office with one hand and looking at Oblomov, as a sign of disfavour, to such an extent that he had to see the master with half an eye, and the master could only see one immense sideburn, from which you would expect two three birds. Handkerchief, quickly! You could have guessed it yourself: you don’t see! Ilya Ilyich remarked sternly. Zakhar did not detect any particular displeasure or surprise at this order and reproach from the master, probably finding both of them very natural on his part. Who knows where the scarf is? He grumbled, walking around the room and feeling each chair, although it was already clear that there was nothing on the chairs. You are losing everything! he noticed, opening the door to the living room to see if there was anything there. Where? Look here! I haven't been there since the third day. Hurry up! - said Ilya Ilyich. Where is the scarf? No scarf! “Zakhar said, spreading his arms and looking around in all corners. “Yes, there he is,” he suddenly wheezed angrily, “under you!” That's where the end sticks out. You lie on it yourself, and ask for a scarf! And, without waiting for an answer, Zakhar went out. Oblomov felt a little embarrassed by his own mistake. He quickly found another reason to make Zakhar guilty. How clean you are everywhere: dust, dirt, my God! Look there, look in the corners - you’re not doing anything! Since I’m not doing anything... Zakhar spoke in an offended voice, I’m trying, I don’t regret my life! And I wash away dust and sweep almost every day... He pointed to the middle of the floor and to the table on which Oblomov was having lunch. “There, there,” he said, “everything has been swept, tidied up, as if for a wedding... What else? What is this? Ilya Ilyich interrupted, pointing to the walls and the ceiling. And this? And this? He pointed to a towel thrown away from yesterday and to a forgotten plate with a slice of bread on the table. “Well, I guess I’ll put that away,” said Zakhar condescendingly, taking the plate. Only this! And the dust on the walls, and the cobwebs?.. Oblomov said, pointing to the walls. I clean this up for Holy Week: then I clean the images and remove the cobwebs... And sweep away the books and paintings?.. Books and paintings before Christmas: then Anisya and I will go through all the closets. Now when are you going to clean up? You are all sitting at home. I sometimes go to the theater and visit: if only... What kind of cleaning at night! Oblomov looked at him reproachfully, shook his head and sighed, and Zakhar indifferently looked out the window and also sighed. The master seemed to think: “Well, brother, you are even more Oblomov than I am,” and Zakhar almost thought: “You’re lying! You’re just a master at speaking tricky and pitiful words, but you don’t even care about dust and cobwebs.” “Do you understand,” said Ilya Ilyich, “that moths start from dust? Sometimes I even see a bug on the wall! I have fleas too! - Zakhar responded indifferently. Is this good? After all, this is disgusting! Oblomov noted. Zakhar grinned all over his face, so that the grin even covered his eyebrows and sideburns, which moved apart as a result, and a red spot spread across his entire face right up to his forehead. Is it my fault that there are bedbugs in the world? he said with naive surprise. Did I make them up? “It’s from uncleanness,” interrupted Oblomov. Why are you lying? And I didn’t invent uncleanness. You have mice running around there at night I hear. And I didn’t invent mice. There are a lot of these creatures, like mice, cats, and bedbugs, everywhere. How come others don’t have moths or bedbugs? Zakhar’s face expressed incredulity, or, better to say, calm confidence that this was not happening. “I have a lot of everything,” he said stubbornly, “you can’t see through every bug, you can’t fit into its crack.” And he himself, it seems, thought: “And what kind of sleep is it without a bug?” “You sweep, pick up the rubbish from the corners,” and nothing will happen, taught Oblomov. “You take it away, and tomorrow it will be full again,” said Zakhar. “It won’t be enough,” the master interrupted, “it shouldn’t.” “It will fill up,” I know, the servant repeated. If it gets full, sweep it up again. How is it? Do you go through all the corners every day? Zakhar asked. What kind of life is this? God better send your soul! Why are others clean? Oblomov objected. Look opposite, at the tuner’s: it’s nice to look at, but there’s only one girl... “Where will the Germans take the rubbish,” Zakhar suddenly objected. Look how they live! The whole family has been gnawing on the bone for a week. The coat passes from the father's shoulders to the son, and from the son again to the father. My wife and daughters are wearing short dresses: everyone tucks their legs under them like geese... Where can they get dirty laundry? They don’t have it like we do, so that in their closets there’s a bunch of old, worn-out clothes lying around over the years, or a whole corner of bread crusts accumulated over the winter... They don’t even have crusts lying around in vain: they’ll make crackers and drink them with beer! Zakhar even spat through his teeth, talking about such a stingy life. Nothing to talk about! Ilya Ilyich objected, you better clean it up. “Sometimes I would have removed it, but you yourself don’t allow it,” said Zakhar. Fuck you! That's it, you see, I'm in the way. Of course you are; You’re all sitting at home: how can you clean up in front of you? Leave for the whole day and I'll clean it up. Here’s another idea that leave! Come on, you better get to yourself. Yes right! Zakhar insisted. Now, even if we left today, Anisya and I would clean everything up. And we can’t handle it together: we need to hire more women and clean everything up. Eh! what ideas women! Go away, said Ilya Ilyich. He was not glad that he called Zakhar to this conversation. He kept forgetting that barely touching this delicate object would cause trouble. Oblomov would like it to be clean, but he would like it to happen somehow, imperceptibly, by itself; and Zakhar always started a lawsuit, as soon as they began to demand that he sweep away dust, wash floors, etc. In this case, he will begin to prove the need for a huge fuss in the house, knowing very well that the very thought of this horrified his master. Zakhar left, and Oblomov was lost in thought. A few minutes later another half hour struck. What is this? Ilya Ilyich said almost with horror. Eleven o’clock is soon, and I haven’t gotten up yet, haven’t washed my face yet? Zakhar, Zakhar! Oh, my God! Well! was heard from the hallway, and then the famous jump. Are you ready to wash your face? asked Oblomov. Done a long time ago! - answered Zakhar. Why don’t you get up? Why don’t you say it’s ready? I would have gotten up a long time ago. Come on, I’m following you now. I need to study, I’ll sit down to write. Zakhar left, but a minute later he returned with a notebook covered in writing and greasy and scraps of paper. Now, if you write, then by the way, if you please, check the accounts: you need to pay the money. What are the scores? What money? Ilya Ilyich asked with displeasure. From the butcher, from the greengrocer, from the laundress, from the baker: everyone asks for money. Only about money and care! Ilya Ilyich grumbled. Why don’t you submit your accounts little by little, and all of a sudden? You all drove me away: tomorrow and tomorrow... Well, it’s still not possible until tomorrow? No! They really pester you: they won’t lend you money anymore. Today is the first day. Ah! Oblomov said sadly. New concern! Well, why are you standing there? Put it on the table. “I’ll get up now, wash myself and take a look,” said Ilya Ilyich. So, are you ready to wash your face? Done! said Zakhar. Well, now... He began, groaning, to rise in bed to stand up. “I forgot to tell you,” Zakhar began, “just now, while you were still sleeping, the manager sent a janitor: he says that we definitely need to move out... we need an apartment. Well, what is it? If necessary, then, of course, we will go. Why are you pestering me? This is the third time you've told me about this. They pester me too. Say we'll go. They say: you’ve been promising for a month now, but you still haven’t moved out; We, they say, will let the police know. Let them know! Oblomov said decisively. We will move ourselves when it gets warmer, in three weeks. Where in three weeks! The manager says that in two weeks the workers will come: they will destroy everything... “Move out, he says, tomorrow or the day after tomorrow...” Uh-uh! too fast! See, one more thing! Would you like to order it now? Don’t you dare remind me about the apartment. I already forbade you once; and you again. Look! What should I do? Zakhar responded. What to do? this is how he gets rid of me! Answered Ilya Ilyich. He asks me! What do I care? Don't bother me, do whatever you want, just so you don't have to move. Can't try hard for the master! But, father, Ilya Ilyich, how can I give orders? Zakhar began with a soft hiss. The house is not mine: how can I not move from someone else’s house if they are driving me away? If it were my house, then with great pleasure I would... Is it possible to persuade them somehow? “We, they say, have been living for a long time, we pay regularly.” He said, Zakhar said. Well, what about them? What! We set our own: “Move, they say we need to remodel the apartment.” They want to turn this doctor's room into one big apartment for the wedding of the owner's son. Oh, my God! Oblomov said with annoyance. After all, there are such donkeys who get married! He turned on his back. “You should write, sir, to the owner,” said Zakhar, “so maybe he wouldn’t touch you, but would order you to destroy that apartment first.” At the same time, Zakhar pointed with his hand somewhere to the right. Well, okay, as soon as I get up, I’ll write... You go to your room, and I’ll think about it. “You don’t know how to do anything,” he added, “I have to worry about this rubbish myself.” Zakhar left, and Oblomov began to think. But he was at a loss what to think about: whether about the headman’s letter, about moving to new apartment, should we start settling scores? He was lost in the rush of everyday worries and kept lying there, tossing and turning from side to side. From time to time only abrupt exclamations were heard: “Oh, my God! It touches life, it reaches everywhere.” It is not known how long he would have remained in this indecision, but a bell rang in the hallway. Someone has already come! said Oblomov, wrapping himself in a robe. I haven’t gotten up yet shame and that’s all! Who would it be so early? And he, lying down, looked at the doors with curiosity.

Roman I.A. Goncharov’s “Oblomov” became a kind of appeal to his contemporaries about the need to change the inert way of judgment. This work is the second part of a trilogy, which also includes such novels as “An Ordinary Story” and “The Precipice.”

The history of the creation of the novel “Oblomov” will help the reader to unravel the idea of the great writer and trace the stages of writing the work.

"Oblomov's Dream"

Goncharov’s first idea for the novel “Oblomov” appeared in 1847. He starts work and hopes to finish his new work very quickly. Goncharov promises N.A. Nekrasov, editor of the literary magazine Sovremennik, to provide him with a manuscript for printing by 1848. Work on the novel is going hard and slowly. In 1849, Goncharov published an excerpt from it entitled “Oblomov’s Dream.” It reveals the author’s thoughts about the essence of “Oblomovism” and the role of this phenomenon in social life Russia. Criticism received the passage quite favorably.

The editor of Sovremennik was delighted, but due to the fact that the novel was not completed by the promised deadline, the relationship between Goncharov and Nekrasov slightly went wrong. For this reason, Ivan Alexandrovich contacts the journal Otechestvennye Zapiski, promising to provide the manuscript by 1850.

Trip to Simbirsk

In 1849, Goncharov went to hometown, Simbirsk. He tries to work on a novel, but only manages to finish the first part. Simbirsk was a cozy small settlement in which the way of patriarchal Russia was still alive. Here Goncharov encounters many cases of the so-called Oblomov dream. The landowners live a measured, unhurried life, without any desire for progress; their whole life is built on the labor of serfs.

A break during work

After a trip to Simbirsk, Goncharov took a break from working on the novel Oblomov. The writing of the work was delayed for almost seven years. During this time, the writer took part in a trip around the world as secretary-assistant to E.V. Putyatina. The result of this journey was the collection of essays “Frigate “Pallada””. In 1857, Goncharov went for treatment to Marienbad. There he resumed the postponed work on creating the novel Oblomov. The work, which he could not finish for almost a decade, was completed in a month. During his long creative break, Goncharov managed to think through his story to the smallest detail and mentally complete the novel.

Ivan Andreevich admitted that the critic Vissarion Grigorievich Belinsky had a huge influence on his novel. In his article devoted to the first part of Goncharov’s trilogy of novels “Ordinary History,” Belinsky said that for a nobleman subject to the excessive influence of romance, a completely different ending than in this novel can be used. Goncharov listened to the critic’s opinion and, when creating Oblomov, took advantage of some of his key comments.

In 1859, Oblomov was published in the pages of Otechestvennye zapiski.

Hero prototypes

Oblomov. It is known that in many ways the image of the main character was copied by Goncharov from himself. Sybaritism and leisurely thoughtfulness were his distinctive features. For this reason, his close friends nicknamed him "Prince de Laine". Much converges in the fate and characters of Goncharov and his hero Oblomov. Both belong to old family with patriarchal foundations, they are leisurely and dreamy, but at the same time they have a sharp mind.

Olga Ilyinskaya. Researchers of Goncharov’s work consider two women to be the prototypes of Oblomov’s beloved, Olga Ilyinskaya. These are Elizaveta Tolstaya, for whom the writer had the most tender feelings, considering her the ideal of femininity and intelligence, and Ekaterina Maykova, his close friend, who amazed Goncharov with her determination and active life position.

Agafya Pshenitsyna. The prototype of Agafya Matveevna Pshenitsyna, the “ideal” Oblomov woman with whom main character found peace and comfort, became birth mother I.A. Goncharova, Avdotya Matveevna. After the death of the father of the family, he took upon himself the care of raising the boy. Godfather Ivan Andreevich, and Avdotya Matveevna plunged into the household affairs of the house, providing a well-fed and comfortable life for her son and his teacher.

Andrey Stolts. Collective image, contrasted in the novel with Russian national character Oblomov. Stolz becomes a kind of catalyst for the main character, which awakens in him inquisitiveness, liveliness and interest in life. But this effect does not last long; as soon as Stolz leaves him alone, a touch of drowsiness and laziness returns.

Conclusion

The novel “Oblomov” was completed by I.A. Goncharov in 1858, shortly before the abolition of serfdom. He showed the crisis of patriarchal Russia, leaving the reader to decide for themselves which path is ideal for the Russian person: a sleepy and peaceful existence or striving forward into the world of transformation and progress.