Elena Markasova. Apology of Belikov

Apology of Belikov
A.P. Chekhov. Man in a case

Elena Markasova

Publication date: December 15, 2000

With what pleasure especially active schoolchildren include in their essays about Belikov discussions about “the spirit of officialdom and formalism that reigned in the gymnasium,” not without malice, stating the relevance of “The Man in a Case.” Who hasn’t scolded people in cases! Aren't they the main brake on progress in society and public education? Shouldn’t they be driven out earlier from the Teachers who should be placed at the very height at which they have never stood, do not stand and will not stand.

But in a strange way, some circumstances are discovered that give us reason to create an apology for Belikov, unlike his, in his own words, “comrade” , the teacher Burkin, who did not hesitate to say so many nasty things about his colleague that it would be enough for more than one essay.

“Reality irritated him, kept him in constant anxiety, and, perhaps, in order to justify ... his aversion to the present ,” says Burkin, “ he always praised the past and what never happened; and the ancient languages ​​that he taught, there were for him... the same galoshes and umbrella where he hid from real life."

Let us first note that teaching the ancient Greek language, which seems like a kind of case to modern schoolchildren (at the suggestion of Burkin), in the last third of the 19th century was not an activity for the faint of heart. Illusions regarding the glorious past of our education system (conscientious high school students, verified curricula, general interest in the study of Pushkin, Lermontov, Gogol, as well as Cicero, Herodotus or Eunapius) can be characteristic and forgivable only of those patriots who did not hold in their hands the Collection of Resolutions on Ministry of Public Education.

It was hard for the teacher then. On the right was the ministry, on the left were the parents. Here, for example, is what the residents of Tambov wrote to the Minister of Education Tolstoy, whom Alexander II dismissed due to “extreme irritation of society, especially fathers and mothers” : “Foreign languages, suitable for ten chosen ones and unnecessary for hundreds of people, are mandatory. They are tormented in vain pupils without benefit, to the detriment of health... Everyday lectures on the Latin language, and Russian literature 2 or 3 times a week..." I’m not defending Count Tolstoy, I feel sorry for the teacher: the courses of ancient Greek and Latin were constantly being redesigned. They either reduced the number of hours (for medical reasons, so that schoolchildren would not be overworked), or increased them (to prepare students for scientific work). There were also political arguments about the need to prevent the introduction of democratic ideas into the consciousness of high school students - smuggled, straight from the historical homeland of democracy. Hence the expansion and contraction of the list of authors allowed for reading in Greek and Latin lessons. Burkin, apparently, counted himself in the ranks of progressive teachers like his predecessor from the Novgorod-Seversk gymnasium in the city of Bulyubash; he, at one of the teachers’ congresses, then quite frequent, said that now (1860s) talk about the special significance of the Greek language is meaningless, since now we need to study the natural sciences and mathematics.

So think for yourself, could teacher Belikov not like circulars? For example, I also read with great interest the regulations and recommendations of modern pedagogical repertoire committees. I wonder what else they will come up with in a villainous way: will they kick out “The Captain’s Daughter”, will they suddenly order “Yama” to read, or “Armored Train 14-69” again? So, you probably shouldn’t mock Belikov: he loved, they say, “circulars and newspaper articles in which something was prohibited.”

Recently I had to replace a friend of mine at school. She honestly warned: in her lessons, children sometimes make noise, play cards, and drink beer at the last desk, but you don’t need to pay attention, everyone is already used to it. “The crowded gymnasium to which he went was scary... “They make a lot of noise in our classes,” he said.” And he was right. And it’s not good to play cards in class. And drink beer.

And one last thing. About the fate of a teacher in the then province. And in today's day. Being a teacher in a small city (town, village) is a daily, constant stress, since students, their parents and close relatives within a radius of 70 km know how often you, comrade (Mr.) teacher, change the curtains on the windows, wash clothes, buy milk etc. And if (God forbid) you made a mistake (as a teacher) and your fellow countrymen turned against you, the main argument in favor of your unprofessionalism will be something like this: “What can he teach if on November 7 there is not even pies in the house?!” And there are two ways out: either get sick, like Belikov, or bake pies for November 7th and generally take care of the housework (“The sheep haven’t been watered, the cows haven’t been milked—what kind of teaching advice is there?”, because: “He doesn’t keep a cow, but there’s a raise children!”; quotes from personal experience.) In other words, in the footsteps of the heroic Kovalenka - “on the farm... to catch crayfish and teach crawdads.” Why do you need ancient Greek on a farm? If only there were bicycles...

And here's what's interesting. Belikov, of course, taught ancient Greek and loved it very much (“Anthropos!” he said “with a sweet expression” ). But his persecutors, his colleagues, so to speak? It is known about Burkin that he is “not a natural scientist,” Kovalenko is a broad specialist, he equally knew history and geography, but apparently he preferred catching crayfish and riding a bicycle, despite his erudition and ardor ( “- But you, Mikhailik, this I haven’t read it!.. - And I’m telling you that I have read it!” ). Well, of course, everything is as if they were “thinking, decent, read Shchedrin and Turgenev, various Bokleys and so on,” but, so to speak, for internal use. Which outwardly manifests itself in the interested-experimental pimping (despite the fact that they are “not naturalists”) between Belikov and Varenka. “The principal, the inspector and all our gymnasium ladies came to life, even prettier, as if they suddenly saw a goal in life.” It’s clear that this goal is not to be seen in noisy students! And the reasoning of the poor case-bearer that, they say, “marriage is a serious step” - what’s Buckle’s point in this? Here for the heroic persecution of the crowd, that is, the enemies of progress a la Belikoff through caricatures ( “The artist must have worked for more than one night, since all the teachers of the male and female gymnasium, seminary teachers, officials - everyone received a copy” ) Buckle at the very once. And for the funeral of these enemies - “I confess, great pleasure” - with mockery ( “Yes, he achieved his ideal!” ) and cynical observations of the slightly weeping failed chosen one ( “I noticed that Ukrainian women only cry or laugh, but they have an average mood they don't exist" ). However, it is forgivable - the nightmare of the whole city was buried, by a spy with washed bones, one of those who forced the poor students to be kicked out, introducing the entire teachers' council into a stupor with a quiet speech. An evil and terrible superman. If it weren’t for him, both Petrov and Egorova wouldn’t have had their points deducted for their behavior, they wouldn’t have been put under arrest, and they wouldn’t have been expelled in the end. Look, if Greek and other sciences were somehow bypassed, they would have a solid position...

It’s a pity for Belikov and his flimsy case - he turned out to be weak, he did not insist “on concepts,” as students of today’s commercial universities say. Scrupulousness ruined me. And marriage is a serious matter for him, and he can’t stand caricatures or women on bicycles. An aristocrat, one might say. He took it and died for reasons of honor. But I was worried, “no matter what happens,” it seems, not in vain.

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Web presence ( V.Sonkin )

Directly on the topic of today’s note - a page of some school with comments about several Chekhov’s stories, including “The Man in a Case” (where and when it was first published, what kind of feedback it received from contemporaries - they wrote that after reading “all of Russia appeared in a case" ). At the end of the page there are proud photographs of schoolchildren Materkov and Shcherbakov, who “did it.”

On the "Agama" there is information about the 1939 film "The Man in a Case".

Closely related to the topic is Tatyana Kravchenko’s review from Nezavisimaya Gazeta of Alexei Varlamov’s novel “ Kupavna ”. This text is called “Our Man in a Case” (a good title), and it expresses a thought close to the pathos of today’s note.

About Chekhov in general - let's once again give a link to the Chekhov page of the Peskin library and refer to our note about the story "Name Day" - some of the links given there are outdated, but some work.