Barnyard. Animal Farm, George Orwell - “All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others. Or let's think about serious things, under the guise of satire. "Everyone is equal but some are more equal
One of the greatest works of foreign literature XX centuries - story George Orwell's Animal Farm. The summary of this book will certainly inspire you to read the original. The story of the American writer reflects in a veiled form important events in the history of Russia.
basic information
Orwell completed his work on a utopia, which tells the story of a gradual and, according to the author, inevitable transition from ideas of universal equality to totalitarianism and harsh dictatorship, in 1944. The story first appeared in print after the end of World War II. Original title: Animal Farm: A Fairy Story. The work contains a satire on the Soviet Union; famous historical figures can be seen in some of the characters. Orwell's story Animal Farm is about the 1917 revolution and the events that took place in the first twenty years after the creation of the new state.
Already from the title it is clear that the main characters here are not people, but animals. However, some of them are endowed with cruelty, which is inherent only to humans. Before presenting a brief summary of Animal Farm, it is necessary to define the main term of this philosophical work - “scotism”. This concept is a parody of communism. "Scotism" or "animalism" is a philosophical system according to which animals exist in complete independence from people.
"Animal Farm": summary
Heroes stories - inhabitants farm "Manor". Her owner, Mr. Jones, suffers from alcoholism, and therefore his business is going from bad to worse. Sometimes he even forgets to feed the animals. One day twelve years old a hog named Major organizes a meeting. It is from this event that the story begins.
The major generates revolutionary thoughts in the minds of the inhabitants of the farm. What will happen if animals become free and stop depending on selfish and cruel people? Old Major claims that someday there must be an uprising, which will ultimately make the inhabitants of the farm happy. They will work less but eat better. There will be equality in the animal world. All we need to do is get rid of human dictatorship.
A few days after the meeting, Major dies. However, the ideas expressed by the wise hog continue to live. The song, which the major sang on one of the last days of his life, becomes the anthem of the liberation movement. The anthem is called "Beasts of England".
One day Jones forgets to feed the animals. They attack him and his assistants in anger. Thus, the long-awaited revolution takes place. From now on there is not a single person on the farm. All power belongs to animals. Pigs - Napoleon, Snowball, Squealer - find themselves at the helm of a new small state.
The trouble is that the ideals of equality and universal happiness are forgotten over time. Pigs lead more and more and work less and less. Other animals have to do hard work from dawn to dusk. However, despite this they are happy. The inhabitants of the farm believe in the ideas that the wise Major once inspired them to implement.
This is the summary of Animal Farm. But here, of course, not all events in the life of the inhabitants of the farm are told. Over time, unnoticed by many animals, a dictatorship is established in the barnyard. Repressions, denunciations and other phenomena characteristic of the politics of totalitarianism begin. And most importantly, the substitution of values. The ideas that once inspired the animals to revolt are gradually fading into the background - they are inconvenient for the dictator and his minions.
Seven Commandments Invented by Pigs
After the people were expelled from the farm, the animals began to learn to read and write. True, many could not even master the alphabet. Pigs demonstrated special intellectual abilities. It was they who laid down the seven commandments, which all goats, sheep, chickens, dogs, and cats must henceforth adhere to.
On the wall of the barn in white paint one of the hogs wrote:
- The enemy is the one that walks on two legs.
- A friend is one who walks on four legs.
- Animals don't wear clothes.
- Animals don't sleep in beds.
- Animals do not drink alcohol.
- Animals don't kill each other.
- All animals are equal.
In the plot of Animal Farm, these commandments are not the least important. The fact is that over time they begin to be violated. And it is not horses, goats, sheep and chickens who violate them, but pigs, that is, those in power. The commandments are not canceled. Adjustments are made to them quietly. Thus, the postulate that an animal cannot kill its own kind is supplemented with the words “for no reason.” The commandment, which states that no inhabitant of the farm has the right to drink alcohol, in the words “to the point of unconsciousness.”
The characters in Animal Farm are quite colorful. Some have specific prototypes. Others are collective images. There are also characters in Orwell's Animal Farm that symbolize a certain social class.
Major
This character makes a long speech at the very beginning of the work, and then, as already mentioned, dies. The major becomes neither a witness nor a participant in the uprising. However, his skull is later dug up by animals from the grave and placed in a prominent place. Every morning, looking at the remains of the deceased hog, they sing their favorite song, "The Cattle of England." The prototypes of the character are Karl Marx, Vladimir Lenin.
Napoleon
If after the uprising there are two characters in power, then later only one runs the farm. Napoleon is aggressive, power-hungry, cunning. Once upon a time he hid puppies in his closet, raised and raised them. And later he used it to establish sole power. Over time, the animals begin to call him “leader”. They believe him unquestioningly even after witnessing a mass execution. It’s easy to guess which historical figure this literary hero refers to. To Stalin.
Snowball
The author feels sympathy for this character. Snowball is widely popular among the inhabitants of the farm. He is the author of the idea of creating a mill, which will make life easier for animals in the future. However, Snowball falls victim to Napoleon's treachery. He is expelled from the farm, and later accused of sabotage, treason and other crimes. This character resembles the revolutionary Leon Trotsky.
Squealer
Napoleon appears less and less often before the residents of the company. He hides on the sidelines, and gives instructions to the animals through his attorney - Squealer. Napoleon's faithful assistant is distinguished by amazing eloquence and the ability to convey even the most crazy ideas to the crowd. He is cunning, resourceful and not devoid of artistry. This character refers to politician Vyacheslav Molotov and partly to Trotsky, who also had remarkable oratorical abilities.
Boxer
This is the most hardworking inhabitant of the barnyard. He worked hard under both Jones and Napoleon. Boxer's favorite phrase: "I will work harder." It is difficult for a hardworking horse to understand the intrigues that are going on between the rulers of the farm. Every time Boxer has doubts, he begins to work even harder, while demonstrating boundless trust and devotion to those in power. Another phrase of this character: “Napoleon is always right.” Ultimately, the "leader" sells him to the flayers. The boxer personifies the Stakhanov movement.
Benjamin
The old donkey understands much more than he might seem at first sight. Benjamin, unlike most animals, can read. He notices changes in the commandments written on the barn wall. He sees a lot, but is almost always silent. Benjamin is the only one who understands that old Boxer was sent not for treatment, but to the knackers. What does this character represent? Soviet intelligentsia.
Molly
The frivolous horse is not at all pleased with the changes that have come since Jones's expulsion. Although she does not openly express her point of view. Molly's favorite thing is ribbons, which symbolize luxury. At meetings, even before the uprising, she asks just one question: “Will there be sugar?” After the establishment of a new government, she runs away to a neighboring farm. Molly personifies Russian emigration.
Other characters
The sheep, easily manipulated by Napoleon, symbolize the bulk of the population in a country ruled by a dictator. The "leader's" loyal dogs resemble NKVD officers. In Orwell's story, there are people among the characters. This is Jones, Pilkington, Winter. The prototype of Frederick is the cruel owner of a neighboring farm - Adolf Hitler.
Reprinted by permission of The Estate of the late Sonia Brownell Orwell and AM Heath & Co Ltd literary agencies. and Andrew Nurnberg.
© George Orwell, 1949
© Translation. L.G. Bespalova, 2013
© Russian edition AST Publishers, 2014
© Electronic version of the book prepared by liters company (www.litres.ru), 2014
Chapter I
Mr. Jones, the owner of the Lord's Court, locked the chicken coop for the night, but drunkenly forgot about the hatches for the young animals. The lantern in his hand shook, the circle of light darted from side to side when, writing out monograms, he walked to the back door, kicked off his boots, poured his last mug of beer that day from a barrel in the pantry and climbed into bed, where he was already snoring. Mrs Jones.
As soon as the light went out in the bedroom, rustling and rustling was heard in all the services. During the day there was a rumor that old Leader, a prize boar of a medium white breed, had an amazing dream last night and he wants to tell the animals about it. We agreed that as soon as Mr. Jones had gone home, we would gather in the large barn. Old Ringleader (he was always called that, although he was exhibited under the nickname Willingdon's Beauty) was revered on the farm, and everyone willingly agreed to lose an hour of sleep just to listen to him.
In the depths of the barn, on something like a platform, under a lantern hanging from the mat, the Leader was stretched out on an armful of straw. He was twelve years old, and although he had become overweight in recent years, he was still dignified; the wise and benevolent appearance of this pig was not spoiled even by unfiled fangs. Soon other animals began to flock in, they fidgeted for a long time, trying to position themselves - each in their own way - more comfortably.
Three dogs came running first: Romashka, Rose and Kusai, followed by pigs - these lay down on the straw in front of the platform. Chickens perched on the window sills, pigeons fluttered into the rafters, sheep and cows settled behind the pigs and began to chew their cud. Fighter and Kashka, a pair of draft horses, came together; they slowly made their way to the platform, looking for a long time for where to step so as not to accidentally crush the small fry scurrying in the straw with a shaggy brush hoof. Kashka was a plump, compassionate mare not in her first youth, greatly overweight after her fourth foal. The fighter, a powerful horse almost two meters tall, was stronger than two ordinary horses combined. Because of the white mark on his snoring, he seemed stupid, and indeed he did not shine with intelligence, but he was revered for his perseverance and unheard-of hard work. Following the horses came the white goat Mona and the donkey Benjamin. Benjamin was the oldest on the farm in years and had the worst temperament. He kept quiet more and broke the silence only to make some cynical remark - for example, he declared that the Lord God gave him a tail to drive away flies, but he personally would have done without a tail and without flies. He was the only one of all the cattle on the farm who never laughed. And if they asked him why, he snapped: I don’t see any reason.
For all that, he was devoted to the Fighter, although he did not show it in any way, and on Sundays they usually grazed side by side in the paddock behind the garden, grazed the grass, but did not talk.
As soon as the horses lay down, a brood of ducklings who had strayed from the mother duck walked into the barn in single file, they squeaked weakly and darted from side to side, looking for a place where they would not be stepped on. Kashka shielded them with her front leg, they settled down perfectly behind her and immediately fell asleep. At the last minute, the gray filly Molly, a pretty little fool, driving Mr. Jones's droshky, appeared, mincing coyly and squeaking like a lump of sugar. She positioned herself closer to the platform and immediately began to shake her mane - she couldn’t wait to show off the red ribbons woven into it. The cat came last, looked around, habitually choosing a warmer place, finally squeezed herself between the Fighter and Kashka and purred blissfully - she ignored the Leader’s speech from beginning to end.
Now everyone had gathered in the barn, with the exception of Moses’ tame raven - he was dozing on a pole at the back door. When the Leader was sure that the animals were comfortably seated and tuned in to listen, he cleared his throat and began his speech:
So, comrades, how does our life work? Let's face it. Poverty, overwork, untimely death - this is our lot. We are born, we receive just enough food so as not to die of hunger, and the draft animals are also exhausted with work until all the juices are squeezed out of them, and when we are no longer good for anything, we are killed with monstrous cruelty. There is no animal in England that would not say goodbye to leisure and joy of life as soon as it turns one year old. There is no animal in England that has not been enslaved. Poverty and slavery are what the life of animals is, and we cannot escape from this.
But is this the law of nature? But is our country so poor that it cannot feed those who live in it? No, comrades, no, no, and no again. The soil of England is abundant, its climate is favorable, and besides us, it is capable of feeding many, many more to the full. Our one farm could contain a dozen horses, two dozen cows, hundreds of sheep, and they would all live freely and with dignity, in a way we had never dreamed of. Why then do we drag out this miserable existence? Yes, because people appropriate the fruits of our labor. This is the cause of all our troubles. If we define it briefly, it is in a person. Man is our true enemy. If we remove man, we will put an end to hunger and overwork forever, for man is their cause.
Of all living beings, one person consumes but produces nothing. It doesn't give milk, it doesn't lay eggs, it can't be harnessed to a plow because it's too weak, it can't catch a rabbit because it can't run fast. Everything is so, and yet he rules over us. He forces us to work for himself, takes the fruits of our labors, and feeds us from hand to mouth. The land is cultivated with our labor, it is fertilized with our manure, but what do we have? Nothing but your own skin. Here you are, cows, how many liters of milk have you given in the last year? And where did this milk go, with which you could feed strong calves? Our enemies drank it all, to the last drop. Here you are, chickens, how many eggs did you lay this year and how many eggs did the chickens hatch from? Where did the others go? They were sold at the market by Jones and his employees to raise money for themselves. Here you are, Kashka, where are your foals, four foals, your hope and support in old age? They were sold one by one as soon as they were a year old, and you will never see them again. You got them hard, you worked hard in the field, and what did you get in return - a meager ration, a place in a stall and nothing more!
But even this miserable existence is cut short before its time. I can't complain, I'm lucky. I am now thirteen years old, and four hundred piglets have been born to me. This is how nature determined the boar to live. But there is no animal that at the end of its life would not be overtaken by a merciless knife. Here you are, pigs, not even a year will pass, and every single one of you, squealing desperately, will say goodbye to life on the deck. All of you - cows, pigs, chickens, sheep, all of you - will face this terrible end. He won’t pass even horses, even dogs. Here you are, Fighter, on the very day when you, so mighty, are no longer strong, Jones will sell you to the flayer, and he will cut your throat and let you feed the hounds. When the dogs are old and toothless, Jones will tie a brick around their necks and drown them in the nearest pond.
Isn’t it clear to you yet, comrades, that the cause of our troubles is the oppression of people? If we throw a person off, no one will appropriate the fruits of our labor. Tomorrow we will be free from poverty and lawlessness. So what to do? Work day and night, sparing no effort, and overthrow the human yoke! Revolt, comrades! - here is my promise to you. I don’t know when the uprising will break out - in a week or in a hundred years, but I am sure, just as I am sure that I am standing on straw, sooner or later justice will prevail. Give up your entire, albeit short, life to bring it closer! And most importantly, convey my message to those who will replace you, and may future generations bring the fight to a victorious end.
And most importantly, comrades, be persistent. Do not let yourself be carried away from the path of struggle by any arguments. Do not listen if they tell you that man and beast have common goals, that their prosperity is inextricably linked. All these are enemy machinations. A person pursues his own interests, and only his own. And may our unity in the struggle, our comradeship be indestructible! All people are enemies. All animals are comrades.
Then a terrible commotion arose. Four hefty rats—the Leader’s speech lured them out of their holes—sitting on their hind legs and listening to him. But they didn’t manage to listen to the end of the speech - they caught the eyes of the dogs, and if they hadn’t slipped into the holes, they wouldn’t have blown their heads off. The leader raised his leg, calling for silence.
“Comrades,” he said, “there is one point that should be clarified.” Wild creatures: rats or, say, rabbits - are they our friends or enemies? Let's vote: who agrees that rats are friends?
A vote was immediately held, and by an overwhelming majority it was decided to consider the rats as comrades. Only four voted against: three dogs and a cat, however, it was later discovered that she voted both “for” and “against”. And the Leader continued:
- My speech is coming to an end. I just want to repeat: never forget that your duty is to fight a person and everything that comes from him. Anyone with two legs is an enemy. Anyone who has four legs, as well as anyone with wings, is a friend. Remember also: when fighting against a person, do not become like him. Even after defeating him, do not adopt his vices. Do not live in houses, do not sleep on beds, do not wear clothes, do not drink alcohol, do not smoke, do not engage in trade, do not handle money. All human customs are harmful. And most importantly, no animal should oppress another. Weak and strong, cunning and narrow-minded - we are all brothers. No animal should kill another. All animals are equal.
And now, comrades, I will tell you about the dream I had last night. I won’t undertake to describe it to you. I dreamed of what our land would be like when man disappeared from its face. This dream revived one memory in my memory. A long time ago, when I was still a pig, my mother, along with other pigs, sang an old song: they only remembered the tune and the first three words. I knew this motif as a child, but it has long since faded from my memory. And last night in a dream I remembered him, moreover, I remembered the words of this song, words that, I am sure, were sung by cattle in time immemorial, but then they were forgotten, and for several generations they have not been known. And now, comrades, I will sing you this song. I am old, my voice is hoarse, but I want to teach you it, and you will sing it properly. It's called "Beasts of England".
Creatures of England and creatures
All the lands that exist,
About the earthly future paradise
Take the news, creatures!Creatures, you will be happy,
A man will be overthrown
There will be all meadows and fields
Given to the creatures forever.We'll take the nose ring out -
Ours still took it!
We'll break the whip, throw off the harness,
The bits will rust!It may take a long time to wait
But wheat and barley
Hay, and beans, and beets -
They will be ours on this day!Our waters will become cleaner
The color of the shoots will become brighter,
Sweeter than the air of freedom
There is nothing for the creature.The road to freedom is the road
It’s far away - not everyone will get there;
Geese, horses, cows,
Let's give labor to freedom.Creatures of England and creatures
All the lands that exist,
About the earthly future paradise
Accept, creatures, the news! (Hereinafter in the text of “Animal Farm” is a translation of poems by V. Kornilov. - Here and further - note. lane (except where specifically noted).}
The animals became frantically excited - they were so shocked by this song. Before the Leader had time to finish singing the song, they immediately picked it up. Even the dumbest ones learned the tune and individual words, but the smartest of them, that is, pigs and dogs, after a few minutes knew the song by heart from the first to the last word. And, having rehearsed once or twice, the whole farm burst out in unison as one “Beasts of England”. Each sang in his own way: cows mooed, dogs barked, sheep bleated, horses neighed, ducks quacked. The song fell so deeply into the hearts of the animals that they sang it five times in a row and would probably have sung it all night long if they had not been interrupted.
Unfortunately, the noise woke up Mr. Jones - he jumped out of bed, deciding that a fox had sneaked into the yard. He grabbed the gun, which he kept in the corner just in case, and fired a shot into the air. The pellets crashed into the barn wall, and the meeting was instantly dispersed. Everyone ran to their places. The chickens climbed onto their roosts, the animals lay down on the straw, and soon the whole farm fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter II
And three days later the old Leader passed away peacefully in his sleep. He was buried at the far end of the garden.
He died in early March. Over the next three months, the animals began their underground work with all their might. Among those who are smarter, the Leader’s speech produced a complete revolution in their views. They did not know when the Leader’s prediction would come true, they did not hope that the uprising would take place during their lifetime, but they knew for sure: their duty was to prepare for it. The task of training and organizing the animals was, of course, assigned to the pigs. Among animals they were considered the smartest. Among them, two young boars, Obval and Napoleon, stood out sharply, which Mr. Jones fattened for sale. Napoleon, a large, fierce-looking Berkshire boar, the only Berkshire boar on the farm, was a man of few words, but he was distinguished by incredible tenacity in achieving his goals. Obval was of a livelier disposition and much more eloquent and resourceful, but, by all accounts, he was inferior to Napoleon in strength of character. Apart from them, there were no boars on the farm, only gilts. Of these, the most noticeable was a fat pig named Squealer, round-faced, nimble, with darting eyes and a shrill voice. He was a rare speaker: when he needed to prove something difficult to prove, he had a way of spinning like a loach, twisting his tail, and for some reason this was convincing. They said about Squealer that it costs him nothing to pass off black as white.
It was these three who developed the teachings of the old Leader into a coherent philosophical system and called it “scotism.” Almost every night, when Mr. Jones fell asleep, they secretly met in the barn and explained the main principles of bestialism to the rest of the cattle. It is impossible to convey the stupidity and indifference they encountered at first. Some said that they owed loyalty to Mr. Jones, and called him nothing more than master, or even made immature statements of this kind: “Mr. Jones feeds us. Without him we will die of hunger." Some asked questions of a different kind: “What do we care what happens after we die?” or “If the uprising happens anyway, what difference does it make whether we work for it or not?” The pigs spent a lot of work convincing them that such statements are incompatible with the spirit of bestialism. But the stupidest questions were asked by Molly, the gray filly. Her first question to Obval was: “Will we have sugar after the uprising?”
“It won’t,” Obval snapped. – We cannot produce sugar. And anyway, why do you need sugar? You get plenty of oats and hay.
– Will it be possible to wear ribbons in the mane? – asked Molly.
“Comrade,” said Obval, “these ribbons that you love so much are a symbol of slavery, that’s what they are.” Isn't freedom more valuable than ribbons?
Molly agreed, but without much confidence.
But it turned out to be even more difficult for the pigs to refute the lies spread by the tame raven Moses. Moses, Mr. Jones's favorite, was a snitch and an earworm, but he knew how to talk with his teeth. He assured that there was a certain mysterious land where milk rivers flowed with jelly banks, and all animals would go there after death. This region, Moses said, is in the sky, right behind the clouds. There, all week, every day, Sunday, there is no clover all year round, and lump sugar and flaxseed cake grow right on the hedges. The animals could not stand Moses: he weaved tales and was idle all day, but some believed in milk rivers and jelly banks, and it took incredible effort for the pigs to convince them that there was no trace of such a land.
The most devoted followers of pigs turned out to be draft horses - Fighter and Kashka. They could not come up with anything on their own, but, having once and for all recognized pigs as their teachers, they literally absorbed every word they said and intelligibly passed it on to other animals. They never missed a single underground meeting in the barn and were the first to sing “Beasts of England,” which invariably ended the meetings.
The uprising took place earlier and easier than they expected. Mr. Jones, a tough but skillful owner, has been plagued by failure after failure in recent years. He lost a lot of money in a lawsuit, lost heart, and became addicted to drink. And all day long he sat in a chair in the kitchen, read newspapers, sipped beer and fed Moses crusts soaked in beer. His workers became lazy, stole, the fields were overgrown with weeds, the roofs were leaky, the fences were lopsided, the cattle were underfed.
June has arrived - it's time for haymaking. On Midsummer's Eve - which fell on a Saturday - Mr. Jones went to Willingdon and was so busy at the Red Lion that he did not return until Sunday lunchtime. The workers milked the cows early in the morning and went to hunt hares, but didn’t even think about giving the animals food. Mr. Jones himself, upon his return, dozed off on the sofa in the living room, covering his face with the News of the World; So evening came, and no one gave the animals food. Finally their patience ran out. One cow knocked down the door of the granary with its horns, the animals rushed to the bottom of the barrel and - let's grab the grain. That's when they woke up Mr. Jones. Not a minute had passed, and he, along with four workers, burst into the granary, and whips ran across the backs of the animals. The starving animals could not bear this. And, without saying a word, everyone, as one, rushed towards their oppressors. Kicks and blows rained down on Jones and the workers from all sides. The animals were out of control. People had never seen anything like this, and this unexpected rebellion of those very animals that they had not oppressed or beaten, scared them out of their consciousness. They tried to fight back, but after a minute or two they took to their heels. And now all five of them rushed headlong along the country road to the highway, and the cattle, triumphant, chased after them.
Mrs. Jones looked out the window, saw what was happening, threw some things into her bag and ran away from the farm. Moses jumped off the pole and, croaking loudly, splashed after her. Meanwhile, the animals drove Jones and his workers onto the road and slammed the plank gates behind them. They had not yet had time to understand what had happened, but the uprising had already taken place, Jones was expelled, and the Lord's Court went to them.
At first they did not believe their luck. And first of all, in full force they galloped around all the boundaries - they really wanted to make sure that there was no trace of people left on the farm; then they rushed back to the services to destroy the traces of Jones’s hated rule. They demolished the grooming shed attached to the end of the stable; mouthpieces, bits, dog chains, terrible knives with which Mr. Jones lightened the pigs and lambs were thrown into the well. Reins, halters, blinders, vile bags were thrown onto a pile of smoldering garbage in the yard. The whips also flew there. When the whips started to burn, the animals jumped for joy. The collapse also sent the ribbons that were woven into the horses’ manes and tails on market days into the fire.
“Ribbons,” he announced, “are equivalent to clothing, and clothing is one of the signs of a person.” All animals must go naked.
His words made such an impression on the Fighter that he brought the straw hat that saved him from annoying flies in the summer, and also threw it into the fire.
Soon everything that reminded him of Mr. Jones was destroyed. After which Napoleon led the animals to the granary and gave each a double ration of grain, and the dogs two biscuits. Then they sang “The Beasts of England” from beginning to end seven times in a row, went to bed, and never slept so well in their lives.
Out of habit, they woke up at dawn, immediately remembered what wonderful changes had happened in their lives, and rushed together to the pasture. A little further away in the pasture a hill rose up, from which almost the entire farm was clearly visible. The animals climbed onto it and looked around in the bright morning light. Everything here, wherever you look, has gone to them! How can one not be amazed, how not one can get excited, and they were already frolicking, they were going crazy! And they rolled in the dew, and ate their fill of sweet summer grass, and threw clods of black earth into the air, and inhaled its satisfying smell. They examined the entire farm meticulously; Dumb with delight, they looked at the arable land, meadows, garden, pond, grove, looked as if they were seeing them for the first time, and could not believe that the farm had gone to them.
George Orwell's Animal Farm should be included in the compulsory school literature curriculum. Every sane person is obliged to familiarize himself with it and think about how not to turn his life into the life of the inhabitants of the Animal Farm.
It should not be perceived only in the past tense. History makes continuous turns and everything returns to the same place. Somewhere, the same Animal Farm is blooming in full swing and many people really like it, it is considered something special. It is amazing how the author was able to see and convey his observations to the reader. 70 years after this story was written, everything is perceived as if it was written yesterday.
Manipulations with consciousness have always occurred. Today there are no restrictions on this: on television, completely corrupt journalists and by order show the most vile lies, passing them off as the pure truth. Thousands of people work on the Internet, writing any comments or articles on request. It is very difficult for an ordinary person to figure out where the truth turns into a lie. If you tell a lie mixed with the truth, even in unequal proportions, then it will be very difficult to distinguish one from the other.
Unfortunately, everything does not always end only at the level of information wars. Crossing the line between the war for the possession of the minds of the inhabitants of the Animal Farm and the war for the Animal Farm itself turned out to be quite simple. The best die, and in their place come Napoleons and his henchmen, who know how to speak beautifully.
The story “Animal Farm” can be perceived in different ways. We can say that all this is a thing of the past. One can accuse the writer of envy of the structure of life in the USSR or the socialist system. You can find several more reasons not to see that it has not lost its relevance. The most important thing to take away from this story is: under no circumstances should you perceive information one-sidedly or one-sidedly, do not make hasty decisions under someone else’s influence, and do not follow the lead of those who know how to beautifully talk about your life in the future.
Rating: 10
"All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others"
I like the dystopian genre more than utopia. Perhaps because dystopian novels usually have a good plot, a wonderful atmosphere and memorable characters. Utopia was created to show people what to strive for. Although it is impossible to achieve such “heights”. Dystopia shows how one cannot live. And this, perhaps, spurs us on much better than dreams of a bright future.
And without going too far, I would like to discuss George Orwell’s story “Animal Farm”, which is a dystopia written in “Aesopian language”.
The plot tells us about the “Lord's Yard” farm, whose owner, Mr. Jones, treated animals cruelly. He beat them with a whip, gave them little food and forced them to work for himself. And then one day an old boar named Old Leader inspired the animals to start a revolution on the farm and overthrow Jones and his workers. And after the death of the Leader, the animals, finding a reason, drove the people out of their farm. The animals renamed the farm Animal Farm, began to work for themselves and proclaimed seven commandments that apply on the territory of the farm:
1. Anyone who walks on two legs is an enemy.
2. He who walks on four legs or has wings is a friend.
3. The animal does not wear clothes.
4. The animal does not sleep in the bed.
5. The animal does not drink alcohol.
6. An animal will not kill another animal.
7. All animals are equal.
The pigs Napoleon and Obval became the leaders of the animals. Their common reign was spent in endless disputes and conflicts, although for the inhabitants of the farm it was, perhaps, the happiest time in their entire lives. But all good things come to an end sooner or later, just as the reign of the two leaders at Animal Farm ends. Napoleon, with the help of dogs trained by him, drives Obval out of the farm. That's all for now.
"Animal Farm" is in some way a parody of the events of 1917 in Russia. And in many of the characters you can see the world leaders of those years or certain segments of the population. You can guess Stalin in Napoleon, Lenin in Leader, Trotsky in Collapse. Farmers Peter and Culmington are Hitler and Churchill respectively. The horse Fighter is the Stakhanovite movement, and the filly Molly is the fugitive intelligentsia. There are quite a few similar characters in the story.
I liked this work no less than another work by Orwell - “1984”, in which you can find images common to “Animal Farm”. Knowing history, you can easily guess the prototypes of Big Brother and Emmanuel Goldstein. But that’s not about that now.
Animal Farm can be considered a caricature of the Russian Revolution and the subsequent years of communist rule. The novel is not without exaggeration and hyperbole, which is typical for works whose structure resembles parables. And the story may initially look bright, but towards the end the atmosphere intensifies. And now the ending: sad, not without meaning.
An interesting and at the same time creepy picture of a utopia in a totalitarian state, in which the laws and actions of the authorities contradict each other. This is a world where pigs are like people and people are like pigs. And they are impossible to distinguish. That's what Animal Farm is.
Rating: 10
"Animal Farm" is read quickly, easily understood, and taken quite literally.
However, not all so simple. While reading the book, I did not know that the author was writing a parody of the social system of the USSR. But I always guessed it, especially in songs: those in the story and familiar ones “We were born to make a fairy tale come true...”, “I don’t know another country like this, where a person would live so freely,” “We are ours, we are new let’s build a world” - were born in the memory every time along with the bleating of sheep at the “Cattle Hotur”. It’s a shame for the “draft animals” (the same as the “working class”, as one of the farmers admitted): without their participation, turning pigs into masters would have been impossible. You don’t want to be part of the obedient mass, then you have to be a gloomy donkey. Otherwise, escape or death.
A chronicle of almost any tyranny: slogans, promises, uprising, strengthening the security sector, new slogans, tightening order, hunger, cold, gadflies...
And one more thing: the unification of all pigs (owners) is inevitable. As well as their common toasts, quarrels, new reasons to meet (to toast, quarrel, etc.)
The book was very impressive. It became sad and offensive that bestiality is ineradicable.
Rating: 10
Every person who wants to understand anything about politics should definitely read at least two thematic fiction books: “The Autumn of the Patriarch” by Gabriel García Márquez and “Animal Farm” by George Orwell. Those who managed to break through to the helm of the state simply need to accountably compare the real state of affairs with the story from time to time. And it is strictly forbidden to make the slightest amendment to this commandment.
Before us is a visual representation of the revolution of 1917 and a succinct description of the events that followed it in Russia. It is noteworthy that the story can be easily compared with the state of affairs of today. Associations just come to mind:
1) Lord's Court - State Duma - State Duma
2) The most devoted followers are easily controlled sheep - pro-Kremlin youth movements
3) Today’s leaders of the uprising are not able to jointly agree on even a single place for their meetings
4) the most cunning part of the opposition (meaning Stalin) with accomplices overthrows the most active (Trotsky)
5) Yesterday’s rebels acquire security; not a trace remains of the utopian community
6) Effective ideologists for the people - TV, media
7) From now on, cooperation is possible only with those who pay more
8) The leadership declares the very thought of revolution unacceptable; vigilance is dulled by exhausting work
9) Amendments are introduced to the set of commandments (Constitution) that in every possible way justify the current government
10) A cult of personality is emerging, people are fed with numbers and promises
11) The more time passes, the bolder the falsification of events of past years (for example, about the Second World War)
12) A few years after the uprising, the rebels turned into those who were once overthrown
13) The reign of absolute totalitarianism crowns the former revolution
It would seem that animals and people are creatures of completely different kinds. People are united and at the same time quarreled by a common vice - the thirst for power. Orwell effectively shows that this desire is hidden from birth in every rational being. Sobriety of mind and fortitude are a panacea for dangerous desires, according to his like-minded person, Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Inseparable books, one to the other. Read.
Rating: 10
The attitude towards this book depends purely on what views the reader has on Soviet history. It is not surprising that many people who are proud of their communist past find the novel negative. It is written cynically in places, more and more about the dark than the light. But in my opinion it’s very accurate - not in the eyebrow, but in the eye, Mr. Orwell.
If at the beginning the events taking place on the farm cause a smile, then in the future I see no reason for it. It's a pity for poor Boxer, and the disappointment the animals feel at the end when they see what they've come to is almost palpable.
Orwell creates a series of vivid images that are impossible to confuse: a hog in the role of the Leader, pigs as nomenclature, dogs as police, and all other animals that increasingly resemble a resigned, one-faced crowd. The pigs are also changing, slowly turning into those with whom they were called to fight. The commandments on the wall are also not eternal - after all, these are just words that can be distorted so much that the original meaning is completely lost.
Rating: 9
Politics is a thankless task. At best, boring and vulgar. At worst it becomes mean and dirty. But this, unfortunately, does not cease to be necessary. You can, of course, turn your intellectual nose up at this aspect of life for the time being and not notice its existence. You can leave politics to those who like it. You can tell yourself that by writing poetry, creating paintings, helping stray cats, or simply moving old ladies across the street, you are already contributing to a better future. And this will also be true in its own way. But then at some point the Russian Reversal will turn on, and if you are not involved in politics, it will deal with you. And suddenly it turns out that your poems and paintings incite discord and offend feelings, cat food is purchased with the money of foreign spies, and the transfer of old women corrupts the latter to a state of complete unpatriotism - which, of course, is completely unacceptable! Then you will regret that at one time you did not take an interest in the reasons for the Revolution, laughed at the freaks who came out to rally in the central square, and were too lazy to get to the polling station. But it will be too late.
What's true is true: you can't just go and walk into Mo... I mean, it's hard to figure out this mess from scratch. Therefore, it’s great that there are authors who have the talent to present such complex matters in a visual, literally child-friendly form. If you are wondering what is the difference between Stalin and Trotsky, why the history of the 20th century developed the way it did, and what dictatorial regimes continue to rely on in the enlightened and technological 21st - but looking in encyclopedias and serious scientific works, you only see three-finger figure - start your journey into the controversial world of political passions from Animal Farm. And then, you see, you’ll be able to master a school history textbook;))
Rating: 10
The story is a political pamphlet. It reveals direct analogies with what was happening in the USSR, right down to the direct correspondence of the characters in the story to their prototypes - historical figures. Here you can find Lenin and Stalin, Trotsky and the Stakhanov movement. Despite the fact that the correspondence in form is indisputable, in essence in this story I observe attempts at manipulation. The heroes of the story, Napoleon and the pigs, are the same bourgeoisie and exploiters, and the rest of the “citizens” of the barnyard get nothing but harder work and even more difficult living conditions.
If we try to draw a direct analogy with the USSR, then nothing fits here - the “mill” was built and served the people. In the stigmatized “era of stagnation,” life was, in fact, not bad at all. Free medicine, education, living space. Developed military and space technology, transport infrastructure, agriculture, energy. The USSR was truly a thorn in a certain place for the neighboring “yards”. How is it that the “totalitarian” state is superior to their “democratic” system on almost all fronts? They really wanted to destroy it and achieved their goal, promising the leaders of the late USSR equality and a beautiful life. But it didn’t work out to make friends with the leadership of the USSR and sit at the same table with them, playing cards and discussing bourgeois plans, as happened in the story. And until now this is the same thorn. Maybe they feel on a subconscious level that Russia is stronger and more honest than them? They feel it in their gut, but the notorious “doublethink”, which Orwell will write about, does not allow themselves to admit it?
The story is definitely interesting and worth reading. But you need to read without emotion. Having succumbed to analogies, you need to continue to compare even when the author quietly abandons them.
Rating: 7
A magnificent caricature of the October Revolution! Analogies and allusions are very organic despite the rather complex and unconventional material of the characters that the author chose for himself. Even with its mausoleum - it is present in the form of the skull of an old boar who founded the doctrine and pushed the uprising, dissidents, etc. The worst thing is that in the end none of the animals remembered how they lived initially, but despite living from hand to mouth and the execution of animals, they became almost regularly, dry columns of meaningless numbers convinced them that now they were working for themselves and their lives were much better. And the animals believed it. How can one not recall the long-suffering peasants who received their freedom long before the revolution, then fought under the slogan “Land to the peasants!”, and were eventually herded into collective farms, with their passports taken away - essentially enslaved back for another half a century, in some places dying from artificial hunger, without nothing but slogans, to which the party has always been generous, but which are now working “for themselves” with enthusiasm.
It’s also wonderful for me to always hear calls like: “You live poorly because you work poorly. Work harder! I always sense some kind of catch in such words; the agitators themselves are especially alarming. Although the words are essentially correct, as history shows, it is not in vain that they are alarming - those who call the most, work the least and live the best. Something like this. And then the horse died, but socialism was never built... probably it didn’t work enough.
But, unfortunately, the plot is not limited to parallels with the past - in almost every modern country of the 21st century one can find similar trends (here we can mention another novel by the author on the same topic - “1984”). Riots and revolutions periodically occur in the world, when the masses, tired of enduring, sweep away their rulers, and the new power that has risen on the wave, often having little relation to the people who raised it, gradually slides into the old and tries, instead of fulfilling the promises it made and eliminating the causes, to stupidly patch up the holes who made the rebellion possible, so that she, in turn, would not be overthrown. (A close example is Crimea - first they loudly trumpet the will of the people rallying in the streets and, immediately after the change of power, an immediate ban on all objectionable mass gatherings). Well, then bleating sheep, if they are correctly given the direction of their insane bleating, are the second pillar of power (if not the first) and a complete inhibitor of any changes after security dogs. And why don’t you explain to such a sheep - it will stupidly bleat, seeing imaginary enemies around and fighting windmills (here I will not give examples from the same close opera - whoever wants to will see, and whoever bleats will not help him :)), and she will be sheared and sheared, unless an attempt to completely remove the skin can bring her to her senses, but even this can easily be blamed on the “enemies of the people” who turn up, a la Landslide (initially an ally of the boar Napoleon).
Rating: 9
A brilliant satire of Swift's worthy successor.
Yes, the story is very political, it could easily offend someone, but isn’t that what it should be?
Scotism, unfortunately, is widespread to one degree or another everywhere: idealists are replaced by power-hungry politicians and any society can give birth to its own “Napoleon”. Everyone is equal, but someone will certainly be more equal, no matter where you look.
Is there anything that can be done to counter this? The author's answer is obvious: education, intelligence, and caring. Although this may not be enough, because then it’s not even an hour that he himself will turn into a pig...
Rating: 10
Orwell's Animal Farm is absolutely mind-blowing. I'm not afraid of this word - a masterpiece.
The work is homerically funny, but at the same time extremely scary. It's hard to realize that you really aren't as equal as others. "Animal Farm" proves that all of our real life is a dystopia. And how many political and social allusions there are, how many predictions!
Despite the fact that the ending is calculated in advance, reading from the first to the last line is incredibly interesting.
I advise everyone to read it.
Rating: 10
An excellent example of caricature and allegory with historical overtones. And there is no need to blame the author’s cynicism - no matter how the book is written, everything in it is noted correctly and truthfully, you can’t erase the words from the song.
The events in the Animal Farm reflect the history of the Soviet state, starting from the revolution and ending with the final collapse of all the hopes of the inhabitants of the yard, the reduction of all “sacred” commandments to the simple and precise “All animals are equal, but some are more equal than others” (of course, the chronology is slightly edited, but this only to comply with the artistic style of this “fairy tale”). Sometimes descriptions of metamorphoses on the farm bring a smile, sometimes sadness, because... Behind all the events, real historical facts can be easily guessed. We especially feel sorry for the animals at the end of the book - and not surprisingly, we feel sorry, in general, for ourselves.
In any case, the highest rating, the book is easy and interesting to read, in one breath, everything hidden is on the surface (if you don’t learn history only from Soviet literature), a classic of English satire and allegory on a par with Swift’s Gulliver.
Rating: 10
Excellent, very angry and biting political satire. Incredibly accurate. Written in excellent language, clearly and intelligently.
One BUT: I read and see the history of my unfortunate country. No, of course, to some extent this applies to all revolutions, but in the WFR, and especially in the English bourgeois revolution, this was still not the case. As for the Russian revolution, I am ready to substitute specific names for animals. Snowball - Trotsky. Napolen - Stalin. 9 dogs - NKVD and others like it. Boxer is a working class guy.
Write everything down by date (for example, the first killing of piglets, sheep, and whoever else is there - definitely 1937). It seems that you are reading that same biblical dream about cows: every creature and every little thing has its own meaning.
Firstly, it's just not very pleasant. I sincerely believe that the Russian Revolution is perhaps the most terrible tragedy that happened in the history of Russia, well, after the Tatar-Mongol yoke. It’s not that you can’t write about it, including satirize it. It is possible and necessary, especially if you do it so well.
An interesting book that allows you to look at yourself from the outside. More precisely, to see how they PREFERED to see it “there”.
From the events that took place BEFORE 1942, one can see the truth about ANTI-SOVIET PROPAGANDA
“Frederick and Pilkington changed their tune and began to talk about the horrific cruelty that reigned at Animal Farm. It has become known for certain that cannibalism is rampant there, animals torture each other with hot spurs and have socialized all females.”
Doesn't remind you of anything? :smile: It smells like the White Guard. “Nobel laureate” Solzhenitsyn can also be included here
“Now that the cattle farm was moving towards new prosperity, human beings continued to hate it with even greater force” - and this is also true. Also, Orwell did not (or could not) deny the introduction of UNIVERSAL education.
The confrontation between Trotsky (“Snowball”) and Dzhugashvili (“Napoleon”), as well as the subsequent destruction of the Trotskyists, is described in quite detail (for such a book). But this was written, apparently, under the dictation of Trotsky himself:abuse:, who, naturally, portrayed himself as “white and fluffy”:blush:
“None of the animals have retired yet. Conversations that a corner of the pasture will be reserved for those who have the right to a well-deserved rest have long since ended”: dont:
However, the correspondence of what is written on the last page of the book with the last days of the USSR is clearly not accidental - such coincidences do not happen in life. As the joke says: “An optimist is a well-instructed pessimist.” The men in gray jackets immediately said how the fairy tale would end:frown:.
Or, on the contrary, “from above” they asked the writer to draw up a “dramatic design” of a plan to destroy a “probable enemy”, and he simply chose such an artistic form
Now it’s worth thinking about WHY, after Stalin’s death, all subsequent “leaders” began to act according to this book.
P.S. I saw a cartoon as a child (in the early 90s). True, it ended in the “pre-Zhnev” times - pomp, parades, barbed wire, “dogs” and the “chief pig”, like a Christmas tree hung with orders to the very armpits: haha:.
And they ended differently - it seemed that the “cattle” saw HOW the “pigs” lived, that they had turned into a crowd of “Mister Johnsons,” and rebelled.
P.P.S. And the artistic value is below par
Rating: 3
An uprising is brewing at the Manor Farm, which is located near the town of Willingdon in England. At the beginning of the story, the farm is owned by a local alcoholic farmer, Mr. Jones. The farm is doing badly. At night, the respected boar Clever Man invites them to raise an uprising, at which he calls for overthrowing the power of people and sings the song “Beasts of England.” A few days later he dies. The animals, led by the boars Napoleon, Snowball and Squealer, are preparing for an uprising. One day, Jones forgets to feed the animals, and this causes a rebellion. The animals drive him out, and the pigs become the leaders of the farm. The animals proclaim seven commandments that everyone must obey. Snowball created a flag from a green tablecloth by drawing a white hoof and horn. The green color symbolized the fields of England, and the hoof and horn represented the animal republic. In the updated Animal Farm, the animals consider themselves free and happy, despite the fact that they have to work from dusk to dawn. The old horse Boxer, who works for three people, shows special working qualities. At one of the meetings, Napoleon seizes sole power on the farm, relying on the support of ten huge dogs, which he raised, hiding them as puppies. Another leader of the rebellion, Snowball, fled and has not been seen since. The animals' goal is to build a windmill. They work even harder, Boxer at a construction site undermines his health. One day, a storm destroys a windmill that was almost built. Napoleon declares the explosion a sabotage by the escaped Snowball and sentences him to death in absentia. On Napoleon's orders, several animals (including four piglets who protested against Napoleon's abolition of Sunday assemblies) and birds were executed by dogs on charges of secretly having a relationship with Snowball. Gradually, one after another, Napoleon corrected and then completely abolished all the commandments except one, the first and most important. However, this commandment did not remain unchanged and took the following form - “All animals are equal, but some are more equal than others.” Life on the farm is under the control of Napoleon and the pigs close to him, who make all the decisions at the Animal Farm. The owner of a neighboring farm, Mr. Frederick, tries to take over the Animal Farm, but his attempt ends in failure. The boxer is injured. After a few years, there were virtually no animals left who remembered the times before the uprising. The horse Boxer, who can no longer work, is taken to the slaughterhouse. Squealer manages to convince the animals that the hero of labor and rebellion has been taken to the hospital, where he will be better than on the farm. Also, Squealer, along with the sheep who echo him with their bleating, convinces the animals every day that life on the farm is getting better and better. At the same time, the pigs move into Jones's house, wear his clothes, drink his wine, and play cards with human neighbors from other farms. The story ends with a quarrel between people and pigs, which is watched by the horse Clover, blind from old age, and several other animals: “Those who remained outside looked from pigs to people, from people to pigs, again and again they peered into the faces of both, but it was no longer possible determine who is who."
satirical story-parable ( a fairy story), also called dystopia, by George Orwell. The story depicts the evolution of the condition of the animals, driven from the barnyard (originally called Homestead Farm) by its previous owner, the cruel Mr. Jones, from unlimited freedom to the dictatorship of a pig named Napoleon.In the story, Orwell showed the degeneration of revolutionary principles and programs, that is, a gradual transition from the ideas of universal equality and the construction of a utopia to dictatorship and totalitarianism. "Animal Farm" is a parable, an allegory of the 1917 revolution and subsequent events in Russia.
A catchphrase from the story:
“All animals are equal. But some animals are more equal than others." "All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others" )
Basic Concepts
Scotism
Scotism(or animalism) - a philosophical system according to which, according to the plan, the newly formed society of Animal Farm animals should live.
Seven Commandments
Scotism was based on seven commandments, invented by pigs, and painted by them on the end of a large barn:
- Anyone who walks on two legs is an enemy.
- The one who walks on all fours (as well as the one with wings) is a friend.
- Let the animal not wear clothes.
- Let the animal not sleep in the bed.
- The animal must not drink alcohol.
- Let no animal kill another animal.
- All animals are equal.
But it turned out that many types of Animal Farm animals, due to their narrow mentality, are not able to remember all seven commandments, which is why it was decided especially for them to reduce the provisions of scotism to a single maxim: “four legs are good, two are bad!” Later, the pigs, having ceased to observe the commandments, but without ceasing to propagate them among other animals, secretly corrected them so as not to be accused of violating them. Added ( here - in bold) commandments began to be presented as primordial:
- Don't let the animal sleep in the bed under the sheets.
- The animal must not drink alcohol to the point of insensibility.
- Let no animal kill another animal without a reason.
- All animals are equal but some are more equal than others.
The last commandment in a modified form was discovered by animals later than the others and the only one of all. The rest were erased. When pigs began to walk on two legs, the maxim subsequently changed to: “four legs are good, two are good.” better!».
Plot
An uprising is brewing at the Manor Farm, which is located near the town of Willingdon in England. At the beginning of the story, the farm is owned by a local alcoholic farmer, Mr. Jones. The farm is doing badly. At night, the respected boar Clever Man invites them to raise an uprising, at which he calls for overthrowing the power of people, and sings the song “Beasts of England.” A few days later he dies. The animals, led by the boars Napoleon, Snowball and Squealer, are preparing for an uprising. One day, Jones forgets to feed the animals, and this causes a rebellion. The animals drive him out, and the pigs become the leaders of the farm. The animals proclaim seven commandments that everyone must obey. Snowball created a flag from a green tablecloth by drawing a white hoof and horn. The green color symbolized the fields of England, and the hoof and horn represented the animal republic. In the updated Animal Farm, the animals consider themselves free and happy, despite the fact that they have to work from dusk to dawn. The old horse Boxer, who works for three people, shows special working qualities. At one of the meetings, Napoleon seizes sole power on the farm, relying on the support of ten huge dogs, which he raised, hiding them as puppies. Another leader of the rebellion, Snowball, fled and has not been seen since. The animals' goal is to build a windmill. They work even harder, Boxer at a construction site undermines his health. One day, a storm destroys a windmill that was almost built. Napoleon declares the explosion a sabotage by the escaped Snowball and sentences him to death in absentia. On Napoleon's orders, several animals (including four piglets who protested against Napoleon's abolition of Sunday assemblies) and birds were executed by dogs on charges of secretly having a relationship with Snowball. Gradually, one after another, Napoleon corrected and then completely abolished all the commandments except one, the first and most important. However, this commandment did not remain unchanged and took the following form - “All animals are equal, but some are more equal than others.” Life on the farm is under the control of Napoleon and the pigs close to him, who make all the decisions at the Animal Farm. The owner of a neighboring farm, Mr. Frederick, tries to take over the Animal Farm, but his attempt ends in failure. The boxer is injured. After a few years, there were virtually no animals left who remembered the times before the uprising. The horse Boxer, who can no longer work, is taken to the slaughterhouse. Squealer manages to convince the animals that the hero of labor and rebellion has been taken to the hospital, where he will be better than on the farm. Also, Squealer, along with the sheep echoing his bleating, convinces the animals every day that life on the farm is getting better and better. At the same time, the pigs move into Jones's house, wear his clothes, drink his wine, and play cards with human neighbors from other farms. The story ends with a quarrel between people and pigs, which is watched by the horse Clover, blind from old age, and several other animals: “Those who remained outside looked from pigs to people, from people to pigs, again and again they peered into the faces of both, but it was no longer possible determine who is who."
Appearance
As Orwell scholar Vyacheslav Nedoshivin writes: “One scene tormented Orwell in his declining years. Once in the village he saw a ten-year-old boy driving a huge horse with a thin twig. “It struck me,” he will write, “that if animals realized their power, we would not be able to rule over them, and that people exploit animals almost in the same way as the rich exploit the proletariat...” From here, Nedoshivin notes, the fairy tale “Animal Farm” grew - “a furious satire on Stalinism... where it will be directly said about the new lie that is pressing on the world, forcibly appropriating the name of truth.”
Language
Characters
Animals
People
see also
- 1954 cartoon "Animal Farm", based on the story.
- The 1999 film Animal Farm, based on the story.
Write a review about the article "Animal Farm"
Notes
Literature
- Blum A.V.// Star. - 2003. - No. 6.
Links
- in the library of Maxim Moshkov
- on Orwell.ru
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An excerpt characterizing Animal Farm
“And I’ll be ashamed to write to Boris, I won’t write.”- Why are you ashamed? Yes, I don’t know. Embarrassing, embarrassing.
“And I know why she will be ashamed,” said Petya, offended by Natasha’s first remark, “because she was in love with this fat man with glasses (that’s how Petya called his namesake, the new Count Bezukhy); Now she’s in love with this singer (Petya was talking about the Italian, Natasha’s singing teacher): so she’s ashamed.
“Petya, you’re stupid,” Natasha said.
“No more stupid than you, mother,” said nine-year-old Petya, as if he were an old foreman.
The Countess was prepared by hints from Anna Mikhailovna during dinner. Having gone to her room, she, sitting on an armchair, did not take her eyes off the miniature portrait of her son embedded in the snuffbox, and tears welled up in her eyes. Anna Mikhailovna, with the letter, tiptoed up to the countess's room and stopped.
“Don’t come in,” she said to the old count who was following her, “later,” and closed the door behind her.
The Count put his ear to the lock and began to listen.
At first he heard the sounds of indifferent speeches, then one sound of Anna Mikhailovna's voice, making a long speech, then a cry, then silence, then again both voices spoke together with joyful intonations, and then steps, and Anna Mikhailovna opened the door for him. On Anna Mikhailovna’s face was the proud expression of an operator who had completed a difficult amputation and was introducing the audience so that they could appreciate his art.
“C”est fait! [The job is done!],” she said to the count, pointing with a solemn gesture at the countess, who was holding a snuffbox with a portrait in one hand, a letter in the other, and pressed her lips to one or the other.
Seeing the count, she stretched out her arms to him, hugged his bald head and through the bald head again looked at the letter and portrait and again, in order to press them to her lips, she slightly pushed the bald head away. Vera, Natasha, Sonya and Petya entered the room and the reading began. The letter briefly described the campaign and two battles in which Nikolushka participated, promotion to officer, and said that he kisses the hands of maman and papa, asking for their blessing, and kisses Vera, Natasha, Petya. In addition, he bows to Mr. Sheling, and Mr. Shos and the nanny, and, in addition, asks to kiss dear Sonya, whom he still loves and about whom he still remembers. Hearing this, Sonya blushed so that tears came to her eyes. And, unable to withstand the glances directed at her, she ran into the hall, ran up, spun around and, inflating her dress with a balloon, flushed and smiling, sat down on the floor. The Countess was crying.
-What are you crying about, maman? - Vera said. “We should rejoice at everything he writes, not cry.”
This was completely fair, but the count, the countess, and Natasha all looked at her reproachfully. “And who did she look like!” thought the Countess.
Nikolushka's letter was read hundreds of times, and those who were considered worthy of listening to it had to come to the countess, who would not let him out of her hands. Tutors, nannies, Mitenka, and some acquaintances came, and the countess re-read the letter every time with new pleasure and each time, from this letter, she discovered new virtues in her Nikolushka. How strange, extraordinary, and joyful it was for her that her son was the son who had barely noticeably moved with tiny limbs inside her 20 years ago, the son for whom she had quarreled with the pampered count, the son who had learned to say before: “ pear,” and then “woman,” that this son is now there, in a foreign land, in a foreign environment, a courageous warrior, alone, without help or guidance, doing some kind of manly work there. All the world's centuries-old experience, indicating that children imperceptibly from the cradle become husbands, did not exist for the countess. The maturation of her son in every season of manhood was as extraordinary for her as if there had never been millions of millions of people who matured in exactly the same way. Just as she couldn’t believe 20 years ago that that little creature that lived somewhere under her heart would scream and begin to suck her breast and start talking, so now she couldn’t believe that this same creature could be that strong, a brave man, an example of the sons and men he was now, judging by this letter.
- What a calm, how cute he describes! - she said, reading the descriptive part of the letter. - And what a soul! Nothing about myself... nothing! About some Denisov, and he himself is probably braver than them all. He writes nothing about his suffering. What a heart! How do I recognize him! And how I remembered everyone! I haven't forgotten anyone. I always, always said, even when he was like this, I always said...
For more than a week they prepared, wrote brouillons and copied letters to Nikolushka from the whole house; under the supervision of the countess and the care of the count, the necessary items and money were collected to outfit and equip the newly promoted officer. Anna Mikhailovna, a practical woman, managed to arrange protection for herself and her son in the army, even for correspondence. She had occasion to send her letters to Grand Duke Konstantin Pavlovich, who commanded the guard. The Rostovs assumed that the Russian guard abroad had a completely definite address, and that if the letter reached the Grand Duke, who commanded the guard, then there was no reason why it should not reach the Pavlograd regiment, which should be nearby; and therefore it was decided to send letters and money through the Grand Duke’s courier to Boris, and Boris should have already delivered them to Nikolushka. The letters were from the old count, from the countess, from Petya, from Vera, from Natasha, from Sonya and, finally, 6,000 money for uniforms and various things that the count sent to his son.
On November 12, the Kutuzov military army, camped near Olmutz, was preparing for the next day to review the two emperors - Russian and Austrian. The guard, which had just arrived from Russia, spent the night 15 versts from Olmutz and the next day, right for the review, at 10 o’clock in the morning, entered the Olmutz field.
On this day, Nikolai Rostov received a note from Boris informing him that the Izmailovsky regiment was spending the night 15 miles short of Olmutz, and that he was waiting for him to give him a letter and money. Rostov especially needed money now that, having returned from the campaign, the troops stopped near Olmutz, and well-supplied sutlers and Austrian Jews, offering all kinds of temptations, filled the camp. The Pavlograd residents had feasts after feasts, celebrations of awards received for the campaign and trips to Olmutz to visit Caroline of Hungary, who had recently arrived there, who opened a tavern there with female servants. Rostov recently celebrated its production of cornets, bought Bedouin, Denisov's horse, and was in debt to his comrades and sutlers. Having received Boris's note, Rostov and his friend went to Olmutz, had lunch there, drank a bottle of wine and went alone to the guards camp to look for his childhood comrade. Rostov had not yet had time to get dressed. He was wearing a shabby cadet's jacket with a soldier's cross, the same leggings lined with worn leather, and an officer's saber with a lanyard; the horse he rode on was a Don horse, bought on a campaign from a Cossack; the hussar's crumpled cap was pulled back and to one side in a jaunty manner. Approaching the camp of the Izmailovsky regiment, he thought about how he would amaze Boris and all his fellow guardsmen with his shelled combat hussar appearance.
The guard went through the entire campaign as if on a festivities, flaunting their cleanliness and discipline. The crossings were short, the backpacks were carried on carts, and the Austrian authorities prepared excellent dinners for the officers at all crossings. The regiments entered and left the cities with music, and throughout the campaign (of which the guards were proud), by order of the Grand Duke, people walked in step, and the officers walked in their places. Boris walked and stood with Berg, now the company commander, throughout the campaign. Berg, having received a company during the campaign, managed to earn the trust of his superiors with his diligence and accuracy and arranged his economic affairs very profitably; During the campaign, Boris made many acquaintances with people who could be useful to him, and through a letter of recommendation he brought from Pierre, he met Prince Andrei Bolkonsky, through whom he hoped to get a place on the headquarters of the commander-in-chief. Berg and Boris, cleanly and neatly dressed, having rested after the last day's march, sat in the clean apartment assigned to them in front of the round table and played chess. Berg held a smoking pipe between his knees. Boris, with his characteristic accuracy, placed the checkers in a pyramid with his white thin hands, waiting for Berg to make a move, and looked at his partner’s face, apparently thinking about the game, as he always thought only about what he was doing.
- Well, how will you get out of this? - he said.
“We’ll try,” Berg answered, touching the pawn and lowering his hand again.
At this time the door opened.
“Here he is, finally,” Rostov shouted. - And Berg is here! Oh, petisanfant, ale cushe dormir, [Children, go to bed,] he shouted, repeating the words of the nanny, which he and Boris had once laughed at.
- Fathers! how you have changed! - Boris stood up to meet Rostov, but while getting up, he did not forget to support and put in place the falling chess and wanted to hug his friend, but Nikolai moved away from him. With that special feeling of youth, which is afraid of the beaten path, wants, without imitating others, to express its feelings in a new way, in its own way, if only not in the way the elders express it, often feignedly, Nikolai wanted to do something special when meeting with a friend : he wanted to somehow pinch, push Boris, but just not kiss him, as everyone else did. Boris, on the contrary, calmly and friendlyly hugged and kissed Rostov three times.
They didn't see each other for almost six months; and at that age when young people take their first steps on the path of life, both found in each other enormous changes, completely new reflections of the societies in which they took their first steps in life. Both had changed a lot since their last date, and both wanted to quickly show each other the changes that had taken place in them.
- Oh, you damn polishers! Clean, fresh, as if from a party, not that we are sinners, army people,” Rostov said with new baritone sounds in his voice and army grip, pointing to his mud-splattered leggings.
The German hostess leaned out of the door at Rostov’s loud voice.
- What, pretty? - he said with a wink.
- Why are you shouting like that! “You’ll scare them,” Boris said. “I wasn’t expecting you today,” he added. - Yesterday, I just gave you a note through one of my acquaintances, Kutuzovsky’s adjutant - Bolkonsky. I didn’t think that he would deliver it to you so soon... Well, how are you? Already fired upon? – asked Boris.
Rostov, without answering, shook the soldier’s St. George’s Cross hanging on the strings of his uniform, and, pointing to his tied hand, looked at Berg, smiling.
“As you can see,” he said.
- That's how it is, yes, yes! – Boris said, smiling, “and we also made a nice trip.” After all, you know, His Highness always rode with our regiment, so we had all the comforts and all the benefits. In Poland, what kind of receptions there were, what kind of dinners, balls - I can’t tell you. And the Tsarevich was very merciful to all our officers.
And both friends told each other - one about their hussar revelry and military life, the other about the pleasures and benefits of serving under the command of high-ranking officials, etc.
- Oh guard! - said Rostov. - Well, let’s go get some wine.
Boris winced.
“If you really want to,” he said.
And, going up to the bed, he took out his wallet from under the clean pillows and ordered him to bring wine.
“Yes, and give you the money and the letter,” he added.
Rostov took the letter and, throwing the money on the sofa, leaned both hands on the table and began to read. He read a few lines and looked angrily at Berg. Having met his gaze, Rostov covered his face with the letter.
“However, they sent you a fair amount of money,” said Berg, looking at the heavy wallet pressed into the sofa. “That’s how we make our way with a salary, Count.” I'll tell you about myself...
“That’s it, my dear Berg,” said Rostov, “when you receive a letter from home and meet your man, whom you want to ask about everything, and I will be here, I will leave now, so as not to disturb you.” Listen, please go somewhere, somewhere... to hell! - he shouted and immediately, grabbing him by the shoulder and looking tenderly into his face, apparently trying to soften the rudeness of his words, he added: - you know, don’t be angry; my dear, my dear, I say this from the bottom of my heart, as if it were an old friend of ours.
“Oh, for mercy’s sake, Count, I understand very much,” said Berg, standing up and speaking to himself in a guttural voice.
“You go to the owners: they called you,” added Boris.
Berg put on a clean frock coat, without a stain or a speck, fluffed up his temples in front of the mirror, as Alexander Pavlovich wore, and, convinced by Rostov’s glance that his frock coat had been noticed, left the room with a pleasant smile.
- Oh, what a brute I am, however! - Rostov said, reading the letter.
- And what?
- Oh, what a pig I am, however, that I never wrote and scared them so much. “Oh, what a pig I am,” he repeated, suddenly blushing. - Well, let’s go get some wine for Gavrilo! Well, okay, let's do it! - he said…
In the letters of the relatives there was also a letter of recommendation to Prince Bagration, which, on the advice of Anna Mikhailovna, the old countess obtained through her friends and sent to her son, asking him to take it for its intended purpose and use it.
- This is nonsense! “I really need it,” said Rostov, throwing the letter under the table.
- Why did you leave it? – asked Boris.
- Some kind of letter of recommendation, what the hell is there in the letter!
- What the hell is in the letter? – Boris said, picking up and reading the inscription. – This letter is very necessary for you.
“I don’t need anything, and I won’t go as an adjutant to anyone.”
- From what? – asked Boris.
- Lackey position!
“You’re still the same dreamer, I see,” Boris said, shaking his head.
– And you are still the same diplomat. Well, that’s not the point... Well, what are you talking about? - asked Rostov.
- Yes, as you see. So far so good; but I admit, I would very much like to become an adjutant, and not remain at the front.
- For what?
- Because, having already started a career in military service, you should try to make, if possible, a brilliant career.
- Yes, that’s how it is! - said Rostov, apparently thinking about something else.
He looked intently and questioningly into his friend’s eyes, apparently searching in vain for a solution to some question.
Old man Gavrilo brought wine.
“Shouldn’t I send for Alphonse Karlych now?” - said Boris. - He will drink with you, but I can’t.
- Go-go! Well, what is this nonsense? - Rostov said with a contemptuous smile.
“He is a very, very good, honest and pleasant person,” said Boris.
Rostov looked intently into Boris’s eyes again and sighed. Berg returned, and over a bottle of wine the conversation between the three officers became livelier. The guardsmen told Rostov about their campaign, about how they were honored in Russia, Poland and abroad. They told about the words and deeds of their commander, the Grand Duke, and anecdotes about his kindness and temper. Berg, as usual, was silent when the matter did not concern him personally, but on the occasion of anecdotes about the Grand Duke’s temper, he told with pleasure how in Galicia he managed to talk with the Grand Duke when he was driving around the shelves and was angry about the wrong movement. With a pleasant smile on his face, he told how the Grand Duke, very angry, rode up to him and shouted: “Arnauts!” (Arnauts was the crown prince’s favorite saying when he was angry) and demanded a company commander.