All about the gentleman from san francisco. Bunin is a gentleman from San Francisco. I.A. BuninMr. from San Francisco

Summary of the story "The Gentleman from San Francisco" by I.A. Bunin to prepare for the final essay, for the reader's diary.

Nobody in Naples or Capri remembered the name of the gentleman from San Francisco. He was traveling with his wife and daughter for two years in the Old World, to have fun. At fifty-eight, he was firmly convinced that he was just beginning life, that wealth gave him the right to rest and pleasure, to an excellent trip. Previously, he did not live, but existed, hoping for the future. He worked tirelessly, and finally saw that he had reached the standard he aspired to. Decided to take a break. People of his circle usually traveled to Europe, India and Egypt. He decided not to deviate from the model here either. First of all, this trip was a reward for his labors, but the master is also happy for his wife and daughter. His wife is not an impressionable person, but all elderly American women, he thinks, love to travel. The daughter, a sickly marriageable girl, will improve her health and find herself a billionaire husband. The master worked out an extensive route: winter - in southern Italy, carnival - in Nice, in Monte Carlo, in March - Florence, to the passions of the Lord - to Rome. Then - Venice, Paris, bullfighting in Seville, swimming in the English Isles, Athens, Constantinople, Palestine, Egypt, on the way back - Japan.

At first everything goes great. At the end of November, we had to sail to Gibraltar in an icy haze, in a snow storm, but safely. On the famous steamer "Atlantis", a huge hotel with all the amenities, life flowed measuredly. All day long the travelers ate, drank, and enjoyed themselves; by evening, the gentleman from San Francisco dressed in a tuxedo and starched underwear, which made him look very young. In the evenings, many servants worked on the steamer. There was a terrible ocean around, but they did not think about it, relying on the ship's commander. The master's family dined, then the dancing began, everyone again had fun, drank and smoked. The ship trembled all over, overcoming the blizzard ocean, the siren howled, and the womb of the ship was like the ninth circle of hell. Fireboxes rumbled and sweaty people worked red from the flames, but upstairs everything shone and whirled in a waltz. There was one rich man among the crowd, a writer, a beauty, a couple in love who admired everyone, and only the captain knew that they were hired actors playing love for good money on different ships. The sun appeared in Gibraltar, a new passenger appeared on board - the crown prince of an Asian state. The daughter of a gentleman from San Francisco was introduced to him, the gentleman himself looks at the beautiful fellow traveler. He is generous on the road and takes for granted the care of servants. The ship arrived in Naples. Life there also flows according to routine, with lunches and excursions. In December, the weather turned out to be unfortunate, the gentleman began to quarrel with his wife in the morning, his daughter walked around pale, with a headache. Everyone assured that it was warmer in Capri, the family decided to go there. There was a terrible pitching on the little steamer, the family suffered, the master felt like an old man. Upon arrival in Italy, the gentleman shuns everyone, he is immediately singled out, helped to get out, he feels that he has done everyone a favor by his arrival. The owner of the hotel seems to him already seen once, he tells the family about this, and his daughter becomes sad and lonely on the island. The family is provided with apartments of a high-ranking person who has just departed, and the most skillful servants are assigned. The gentleman habitually dresses for the evening, the floor still staggers under him from the pitching. He goes to wait for his wife and daughter in the reading room, sits down in an armchair, and suddenly he has an asthma attack. He is carried to the worst, dampest and coldest room, his wife and daughter come running, almost dressed for dinner. The evening at the hotel is irreparably ruined for the owner. The master dies on an iron bed under coarse blankets. The wife, now a widow, asks permission to move his body to a room, but the owner says that this is impossible: after this, tourists will avoid his hotel. He says that at dawn the body must be taken out, but not in a coffin, but in a soda box. At dawn, when everyone is still sleeping, the cab driver carries the box with the body to the steamer, the car brings up his wife and daughter. The master's body returns home on the same ship, but in a black hold. In the halls above, as usual, a crowded ball. The ocean hums like a funeral mass. The infernal furnaces of Atlantis are bubbling, the halls are fragrant with flowers, the orchestra is sounding. Again, a hired couple portrays love, but no one knows either that she is already tired of pretending, or what kind of cargo is being carried in the hold.

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I.A. Bunin
gentleman from san francisco

Apocalypse

A gentleman from San Francisco - no one remembered his name either in Naples or Capri - went to the Old World for two whole years, with his wife and daughter, solely for the sake of entertainment.

He was firmly convinced that he had every right to rest, to pleasure, to a long and comfortable journey, and who knows what else. For such confidence, he had the reason that, firstly, he was rich, and secondly, he had just embarked on life, despite his fifty-eight years. Until that time, he had not lived, but only existed, though not badly, but still placing all his hopes on the future. He worked tirelessly - the Chinese, whom he ordered to work for him by the thousands, knew well what this meant! - and, finally, he saw that a lot had already been done, that he was almost equal to those whom he had once taken as a model, and decided to take a break. The people to whom he belonged used to start enjoying life with a trip to Europe, to India, to Egypt. He did and he did the same. Of course, he wanted to reward himself first of all for the years of work; however, he was also happy for his wife and daughter. His wife was never particularly impressionable, but all elderly American women are passionate travelers. And as for the daughter, an aged and slightly sickly girl, for her the trip was absolutely necessary - not to mention the health benefits, isn't there happy meetings in travel? Here sometimes you sit at the table or look at the frescoes next to the billionaire.

The route was developed by a gentleman from San Francisco extensive. In December and January, he hoped to enjoy the sun of southern Italy, the monuments of antiquity, the tarantella, the serenades of itinerant singers and what people at his age feel! especially subtly - with the love of young Neapolitan women, even if not entirely disinterested, he thought of holding a carnival in Nice, in Monte Carlo, where at that time the most selective society flocks - the very one on which all the benefits of civilization depend: and the style of tuxedos , and the strength of thrones, and the declaration of war, and the well-being of hotels - where some enthusiastically indulge in automobile and sailing races, others in roulette, others in what is commonly called flirting, and fourth in shooting pigeons, which soar very beautifully from the cages over the emerald lawn, against the background of the sea, the color of forget-me-nots, and immediately knock white lumps on the ground; he wanted to dedicate the beginning of March to Florence, to come to Rome to the passions of the Lord, to listen to the Miserere there; 1
"Have mercy" - Catholic prayer (lat.).

His plans included Venice, and Paris, and bullfighting in Seville, and swimming in the English Isles, and Athens, and Constantinople, and Palestine, and Egypt, and even Japan - of course, already on the way back ... And everything went first Great.

It was the end of November, and all the way to Gibraltar we had to sail now in icy haze, now in the middle of a storm with sleet; but sailed quite safely. There were many passengers, the steamer - the famous "Atlantis" - looked like a huge hotel with all the amenities - with a night bar, with oriental baths, with its own newspaper - and life on it proceeded very measuredly: they got up early, with trumpet sounds, sharply resounding along the corridors even in that gloomy hour, when the dawn was so slow and unfriendly over the gray-green water desert, which was heavily agitated in the fog; having put on flannel pajamas, they drank coffee, chocolate, cocoa; then they sat down in the marble baths, did gymnastics, stimulating the appetite and feeling good, made daily toilets and went to the first breakfast; up to eleven o'clock it was supposed to walk briskly on the decks, breathing the cold freshness of the ocean, or play sheffle-board and other games to re-stimulate the appetite, and at eleven to refresh themselves with broth sandwiches; having refreshed themselves, they read the newspaper with pleasure and calmly waited for the second breakfast, even more nutritious and varied than the first; the next two hours were devoted to rest; all the decks were then filled with long chairs, on which travelers lay, covered with rugs, looking at the cloudy sky and at the foamy hillocks flashing overboard, or dozing sweetly; at five o'clock they, refreshed and cheerful, were given strong fragrant tea with biscuits; at seven they announced with trumpet signals what constituted the main goal of this entire existence, its crown ... And then the gentleman from San Francisco, rubbing his hands from a surge of vitality, hurried to his rich luxury cabin - to get dressed.

In the evenings, the floors of the Atlantis gaped in the darkness as if with countless fiery eyes, and a great many servants worked in the cooks, scullery and wine cellars. The ocean that went beyond the walls was terrible, but they did not think about it, firmly believing in the power over it of the commander, a red-haired man of monstrous size and weight, always as if sleepy, similar in his uniform, with wide gold stripes to a huge idol and very rarely appearing to people from his mysterious chambers; a siren on the forecastle kept screaming with hellish gloominess and screeching with furious malice, but few of the diners heard the siren - it was drowned out by the sounds of a beautiful string orchestra, exquisitely and tirelessly playing in a double-height marble hall, lined with velvet carpets, festively flooded with lights, overflowing with low-cut ladies and men in tailcoats and tuxedos, slender footmen and respectful maitre d's, among which one, the one who took orders only for wine, even walked around with a chain around his neck, like some kind of lord mayor. The tuxedo and starched underwear made the gentleman from San Francisco very young. Dry, short, oddly cut, but strongly tailored, polished to a gloss and moderately lively, he sat in the golden-pearl radiance of this hall behind a bottle of amber Johannisberg, behind glasses and goblets of the finest glass, behind a curly bouquet of hyacinths. There was something Mongol in his yellowish face with trimmed silver mustaches, his large teeth glittered with gold fillings, his strong bald head was old ivory. Richly, but according to the years, his wife was dressed, a woman large, wide and calm; complex, but light and transparent, with innocent frankness - a daughter, tall, thin, with magnificent hair, charmingly done up, with aromatic breath from violet cakes and with the most delicate pink pimples near the lips and between the shoulder blades, slightly powdered ... The dinner lasted more than an hour, and after dinner, dances opened in the ballroom, during which men - including, of course, the gentleman from San Francisco - with their legs up, decided the fate of peoples on the basis of the latest stock exchange news, smoked Havana cigars to crimson redness and drank liqueurs in a bar where Negroes in red coats served, with squirrels like peeled hard-boiled eggs. The ocean rumbled behind the wall in black mountains, the blizzard whistled hard in the heavy gear, the steamer trembled all over, overcoming both it and these mountains, as if with a plow breaking their unsteady sides, now and then boiling up and flying high with foamy tails, into the siren choked with mist moaned in mortal anguish, the watchmen on their tower froze from the cold and went crazy from the unbearable tension of attention, the gloomy and sultry bowels of the underworld, its last, ninth circle was like the underwater womb of a steamboat - the one where the gigantic fireboxes, devouring with their red-hot mouths of heaps of coal, with a roar thrown into them, drenched in acrid, dirty sweat and waist-deep naked people, crimson from the flames; and here, in the bar, they carelessly threw their legs on the arms of their chairs, sipped cognac and liqueurs, floated in waves of spicy smoke, everything in the dance hall shone and poured out light, warmth and joy, couples either spun in waltzes, or bent into tango - and the music insistently, in a kind of sweet, shameless sadness, she prayed all about one thing, all about the same ... Among this brilliant crowd there was a certain great rich man, shaven, long, like a prelate, in an old-fashioned tailcoat, there was a famous Spanish writer, there was a universal beauty, there was an elegant couple in love, whom everyone watched with curiosity and who did not hide their happiness: he danced only with her, and everything came out with them so subtly, charmingly, that only one commander knew that this couple was hired by Lloyd to play love for good money and has long been floating on one ship or another.

In Gibraltar, everyone was happy with the sun, it was like early spring; a new passenger appeared on board the Atlantis, arousing general interest in himself - the crown prince of an Asian state, traveling incognito, a small man, all made of wood, broad-faced, narrow-eyed, wearing gold glasses, slightly unpleasant - because his large black mustache showed through his him, like a dead man, in general, sweet, simple and modest. The Mediterranean smelled of winter again, there was a large and flowery wave, like a peacock's tail, which, with a bright brilliance and a completely clear sky, was parted by a tramontana merrily and furiously flying towards. Then, on the second day, the sky began to turn pale, the horizon became foggy: the earth was approaching, Ischia, Capri appeared, through the binoculars Naples, piled at the foot of something gray-gray, was already visible in lumps of sugar ... Many ladies and gentlemen had already put on light coats, fur up, fur coats; unanswered, always in a whisper speaking fights - the Chinese, bow-legged teenagers with tar to toe braids and girlish thick eyelashes, gradually pulled blankets, canes, suitcases, travel bags up the stairs ... The daughter of a gentleman from San Francisco stood on the deck next to the prince, last night, by a lucky chance presented to her, she pretended to stare intently into the distance, where he pointed to her, explaining something, telling something hastily and quietly; he seemed like a boy among the others in stature, he was not at all good-looking and strange - glasses, a bowler hat, an English coat, and the hair of a sparse mustache looked like a horse, dark, thin skin on a flat face seemed to be stretched and as if slightly varnished - but the girl listened to him and from excitement did not understand what he was saying to her; her heart beat with an incomprehensible delight before him: everything, everything in him was different from the others - his dry hands, his clean skin, under which flowed ancient royal blood, even his European, quite simple, but as if especially neat clothes were fraught with an inexplicable charm. And the gentleman from San Francisco himself, in gray leggings on patent-leather boots, kept looking at the famous beauty standing near him, a tall, amazingly built blonde with eyes painted in the latest Parisian fashion, holding a tiny, bent, mangy dog ​​on a silver chain and talking all the time. with her. And the daughter, in some kind of vague awkwardness, tried not to notice him.

He was quite generous on the way and therefore fully believed in the care of all those who fed and watered him, served him from morning to evening, forestalling his slightest desire, guarded his cleanliness and peace, dragged his things, called for him porters, delivered him chests in hotels. So it was everywhere, so it was in navigation, so it should have been in Naples. Naples grew and approached; the musicians, shining with copper wind instruments, already crowded on the deck and suddenly deafened everyone with the triumphant sounds of the march, the giant commander, in full dress, appeared on his bridges and, like a merciful pagan god, waved his hand in greeting to the passengers - and to the gentleman from San Francisco, just like everyone else, it seemed that it was for him alone that the march of proud America was thundering, that it was his commander who greeted him with a safe arrival. And when the Atlantis finally entered the harbor, rolled up to the embankment with its multi-storey bulk dotted with people, and the gangway rumbled - how many porters and their assistants in caps with gold galloons, how many all kinds of commission agents, whistling boys and hefty ragamuffins with bundles colored postcards in their hands rushed to meet him with an offer of services! And he grinned at these ragamuffins, going to the car of the very hotel where the prince could also stay, and calmly spoke through his teeth in English, then in Italian:

– Go away! 2
Away! (English).

Via! 3
Away! (Italian).

Life in Naples immediately flowed into routine: early in the morning - breakfast in a gloomy dining room, cloudy, unpromising sky and a crowd of guides at the lobby door; then the first smiles of the warm pinkish sun, the view from the high-hanging balcony of Vesuvius, shrouded to the foot in radiant morning vapors, of the silver-pearl ripples of the bay and the thin outline of Capri on the horizon, of the tiny donkeys running down the sticky embankment, and of the troops small soldiers marching somewhere with cheerful and defiant music; then - exit to the car and slow movement along the crowded narrow and gray corridors of the streets, among the tall, multi-windowed houses, viewing the deadly clean and even, pleasant, but boring, snow-lit museums or cold, wax-smelling churches, in which everywhere one and the same thing: a majestic entrance, covered with a heavy leather curtain, and inside - a huge emptiness, silence, quiet lights of the menorah, reddening in the depths on a throne decorated with lace, a lonely old woman among dark wooden desks, slippery tombstones underfoot and someone else " Descent from the Cross”, certainly famous; at one o'clock in the afternoon on Mount San Martino, where by noon many people of the very first class come together and where one day the daughter of a gentleman from San Francisco almost became ill: it seemed to her that a prince was sitting in the hall, although she already knew from the newspapers, that he is in Rome; at five o'clock in the hotel, in a smart salon, where it is so warm from the carpets and blazing fireplaces; and there again preparations for dinner - again the powerful, authoritative rumble of the gong on all floors, again the strings of rustling silks on the stairs and the low-cut ladies reflected in the mirrors, again the wide and hospitable hall of the dining room, and the red jackets of the musicians on the stage, and the black crowd of lackeys near the head waiter, with extraordinary skill pouring thick pink soup on plates ... Dinners were again so plentiful and dishes, and wines, and mineral waters, and sweets, and fruits, that by eleven o'clock in the evening maids carried rubber bladders with hot water to all rooms to warm stomachs.

However, December was not entirely successful that year: the porters, when they talked to them about the weather, only raised their shoulders guiltily, muttering that they would not remember such a year, although for more than a year they had to mutter this and refer to the fact that “ something terrible is happening everywhere ”: unprecedented downpours and storms on the Riviera, snow in Athens, Etna is also all covered and shines at night, tourists from Palermo, fleeing the cold, scatter ... The morning sun deceived every day: from noon it invariably turned gray and began sow rain, but it’s getting thicker and colder: then the palm trees at the hotel entrance shone with tin, the city seemed especially dirty and cramped, the museums were too monotonous, the cigar butts of fat cabbies in rubber capes fluttering in the wind with wings - unbearably smelly, the vigorous clapping of their whips over with thin-necked nags obviously false, the shoes of the gentlemen who sweep the tram rails are terrible, and the women splashing in the mud, in the rain, with black open heads, are ugly short-legged; about the dampness and the stench of rotten fish from the foaming sea near the embankment and there is nothing to say. The gentleman and lady from San Francisco began to quarrel in the morning; their daughter either walked around pale, with a headache, then came to life, admired everything and was then both sweet and beautiful: beautiful were those tender, complex feelings that a meeting with an ugly man in whom unusual blood flowed aroused in her, because in the end - in the end, maybe it doesn’t matter what exactly awakens the girl’s soul - whether it’s money, fame, whether the nobility of the family ... Everyone assured that it’s not at all the same in Sorrento, on Capri - it’s warmer and sunny there, and lemons are blooming, and morals are more honest, and wine is more natural. And so the family from San Francisco decided to go with all their chests to Capri, so that, after examining it, walking on the stones on the site of the palaces of Tiberius, visiting the fabulous caves of the Azure Grotto and listening to the Abruzzo bagpipers, wandering around the island for a whole month before Christmas and singing praises to the Virgin Mary, to settle in Sorrento.

On the day of departure - very memorable for the family from San Francisco! Even in the morning there was no sun. A heavy fog hid Vesuvius to its very foundation, low gray over the leaden swell of the sea. Capri was nowhere to be seen, as if he had never existed in the world. And the little steamboat heading towards it was so swaying from side to side that the family from San Francisco was lying in layers on the sofas in the miserable wardroom of this steamboat, wrapping their legs in rugs and closing their eyes from dizziness. Mrs. suffered, as she thought, most of all; she was overwhelmed several times, it seemed to her that she was dying, and the maid, who came running to her with a basin, - for many years, day after day, swaying in these waves and in the heat and in the cold, and yet tireless, - only laughed. Miss was terribly pale and held a slice of lemon in her teeth. Mister, who was lying on his back, in a wide coat and a large cap, did not open his jaws all the way; his face became dark, his mustache white, his head ached severely: the last days, thanks to bad weather, he drank too much in the evenings and admired too much "living pictures" in some brothels. And the rain fell on the rattling glass, it flowed from them on the sofas, the wind howled at the masts and sometimes, together with the oncoming wave, laid the steamer completely on its side, and then something rolled down with a roar. At the stops, at Castellammare, at Sorrento, it was a little easier; but even here it waved terribly, the coast with all its cliffs, gardens, pines, pink and white hotels and smoky, curly-green mountains flew up and down outside the window, as if on a swing; boats banged against the walls, third-graders screamed excitedly, somewhere, as if crushed, a child choked on a cry, a damp wind blew at the doors, and, not ceasing for a minute, piercingly screamed from a rocking barge under the flag of the Royal Hotel, a burry boy who lured travelers : "Kgoya-al! Hotel Kgoya-al!..” And the gentleman from San Francisco, feeling as he should, a very old man, was already thinking with anguish and malice about all these Royal, Splendid, Excelsior and about those greedy, garlic-smelling little people called Italians; once during a stop, opening his eyes and rising from the sofa, he saw under a rocky sheer a bunch of such miserable, moldy stone houses stuck to each other near the water, near the boats, near some rags, tins and brown nets, that, remembering that this was the real Italy he had come to enjoy, he felt despair... Finally, already at dusk, the island began to move with its blackness, as if drilled through with red lights at the foot, the wind became softer, warmer, more fragrant, like black oil, golden boas flowed from the lanterns of the pier ... Then suddenly an anchor thundered and splashed into the water, furious cries of boatmen rushed from everywhere - and immediately it became easier on the soul, the cabins shone brighter - the company, I wanted to eat, drink, smoke, move ... Ten minutes later, the family from San Francisco got into a large barge, fifteen minutes later stepped on the stones of the embankment, and then got into a light trailer and buzzed up the slope, among the stakes in the vineyards, dilapidated stone fences and wet, clumsy, covered in some places straw canopies of orange trees, with a gleam of orange fruits and thick glossy foliage, gliding downhill, past the open windows of the trailer ... The land in Italy smells sweet after rain, and each of its islands has its own special smell!

The island of Capri was damp and dark tonight. But then he came to life for a moment, lit up in some places. On the top of the mountain, on the platform of the funicular, there was again a crowd of those whose duty it was to worthily receive the gentleman from San Francisco. There were other visitors, but not worthy of attention - a few Russians who settled in Capri, slovenly and absent-minded, with glasses, beards, with turned up collars of old coats, and a company of long-legged, round-headed German youths in Tyrolean suits and with canvas bags over their shoulders. , who do not need anyone's services, feel at home everywhere and are not at all generous in spending. The gentleman from San Francisco, who calmly avoided both of them, was immediately noticed. He and his ladies were hurriedly helped out, they ran ahead of him, showing the way, he was again surrounded by boys and those hefty Capri women who carry suitcases and chests of respectable tourists on their heads. There was a pounding on a small, like an opera square, over which an electric ball was swaying from a damp wind, their wooden footstools whistled like a bird and tumbled over the head of a crowd of boys - and how a gentleman from San Francisco walked among them to some medieval an arch under the houses merged into one, behind which a ringing street led slopingly to the hotel entrance shining ahead with a swirl of palm trees over flat roofs to the left and blue stars in the black sky above, in front. And again it seemed that it was in honor of the guests from San Francisco that a stone damp town on a rocky island in the Mediterranean came to life, that they made the owner of the hotel so happy and hospitable that only a Chinese gong was waiting for them, howling on all floors of the gathering for dinner as soon as they entered the lobby.

The polite and elegant bow of the host, the remarkably elegant young man who met them, for a moment struck the gentleman from San Francisco: looking at him, the gentleman from San Francisco suddenly remembered that this night, among other confusion that besieged him in a dream, he saw this particular gentleman, exactly the same as this one, in the same business card with round edges and with the same mirror-combed head.

Surprised, he almost stopped. But since not even the mustard seed of any so-called mystical feelings remained in his soul for a long time, his surprise immediately faded: he jokingly told his wife and daughter about this strange coincidence of dream and reality, walking along the corridor of the hotel. His daughter, however, looked at him with alarm at that moment: her heart was suddenly gripped by melancholy, a feeling of terrible loneliness on this alien, dark island ...

A high-ranking person who was visiting Capri has just departed - Flight XVII. And the guests from San Francisco were given the very apartments that he occupied. They were assigned the most beautiful and skillful maid, a Belgian, with a thin and hard waist from a corset and in a starched cap in the form of a small jagged crown, the most prominent of the footmen, a coal-black, fire-eyed Sicilian, and the most efficient bellhop, small and plump Luigi, who has changed many such places in his lifetime. And a minute later, a French maitre d' lightly knocked on the door of the gentleman's room from San Francisco, who had come to find out if the gentlemen would have dinner, and in the case of an affirmative answer, in which, however, there was no doubt, to report that today lobster, roast beef, asparagus, pheasants and so on. Paul was still walking under the gentleman from San Francisco—that wretched Italian steamboat rocked him—but he slowly, with his own hand, though unaccustomed and not quite deftly, closed the window that slammed at the head waiter’s entrance, from which smelled the smell of the distant Kitchen and wet flowers in the garden, and with leisurely distinctness answered that they would dine, that a table for them should be placed away from the doors, in the very back of the hall, that they would drink local wine, and the head waiter echoed his every word in a wide variety of intonations, which, however, had only the meaning that there is not and cannot be any doubt about the correctness of the desires of the gentleman from San Francisco and that everything will be executed exactly. Finally, he bowed his head and delicately asked:

- Everything, sir?

And, having received a slow "yes" in response, 4
Yes (English).

He added that today they have a tarantella in their lobby - dancing Carmella and Giuseppe, known throughout Italy and the whole world of tourists.

“I saw her on postcards,” said the gentleman from San Francisco in an expressionless voice. “And this Giuseppe is her husband?”

“Cousin, sir,” the head waiter replied.

And after a pause, after thinking something, but without saying anything, the gentleman from San Francisco dismissed him with a nod of his head.

And then he again began to get ready for the wedding: he turned on electricity everywhere, filled all the mirrors with reflections of light and brilliance, furniture and open chests, began to shave, wash and call every minute, while other impatient calls rushed and interrupted him along the entire corridor - from the rooms of his wife and daughter. And Luigi, in his red apron, with the ease characteristic of many fat men, making grimaces of horror that amused the maids who ran past with tiled buckets in their hands to tears, rolled head over heels at the bell and, knocking on the door with his knuckles, with feigned timidity, with idiocy respectfully asked:

“A sonato, signore?” 5
You called, sir! (Italian).

And from behind the door came a slow and creaky, insultingly polite voice:

Yes, come in... 6
Yes, come in.

What did the gentleman from San Francisco feel, what did he think on this so significant evening for him? He, like anyone who has experienced a toss, only really wanted to eat, dreamed with pleasure of the first spoonful of soup, the first sip of wine, and performed the usual business of the toilet even in some excitement, which left no time for feelings and reflections.

Having shaved, washed, properly inserted several teeth, he, standing in front of the mirrors, moistened and pinched with brushes in a silver frame the remnants of pearl hair around a swarthy-yellow skull, pulled on a strong senile body with a waist plump from enhanced nutrition, and on dry legs with flat feet - black silk stockings and ball shoes, crouching, he put in order black trousers and a snow-white shirt with a protruding chest, which were highly pulled up with silk straps, set the cufflinks in the shiny cuffs and began to suffer with catching under the hard collar of the cufflinks of the neck. The floor was still swaying under him, his fingertips were very painful, the cufflink sometimes bit hard on the flabby skin in the recess under the Adam's apple, but he was persistent and, finally, with eyes shining from tension, all gray from the excessively tight collar that squeezed his throat, still finished the job - and in exhaustion sat down in front of the dressing table, all reflected in it and repeated in other mirrors.

- Oh, it's terrible! - he muttered, lowering his strong bald head and not trying to understand, not thinking what exactly was terrible, then habitually and attentively looked at his short fingers, with arthritic hardening on the joints, their large and protruding almond-colored nails and repeated with conviction: - This is terrible. …

But then, loudly, as if in a pagan temple, a second gong rang throughout the house And, hastily getting up, the gentleman from San Francisco pulled his collar even more with a tie, and his stomach with an open waistcoat, put on a tuxedo, straightened his cuffs, once again looked at himself in the mirror . “This Carmella, swarthy, with feigned eyes, resembling a mulatto, in a flowery outfit, where orange color predominates, must be dancing unusually,” he thought, and, cheerfully leaving his room and walking across the carpet to the neighboring wife, loudly asked if they were soon?

- In five minutes! - a girl's voice answered loudly and already cheerfully from behind the door.

“Very well,” said the gentleman from San Francisco.

And he slowly walked down the corridors and stairs, covered with red carpets, down, looking for a reading room. Oncoming servants huddled against him against the wall, and he walked, as if not noticing them. An old woman late for dinner, already stooped, with milky hair, but low-cut, in a light gray silk dress, hurried with all her might, but funny, like a chicken, and he easily overtook her Near the glass doors of the dining room, where everyone was already assembled and began to eat, he stopped in front of a table cluttered with boxes of cigars and Egyptian cigarettes, took a large manilla and threw three lire on the table; on the winter veranda he casually glanced out the open window: from the darkness a gentle air blew on him, he imagined the top of an old palm tree, spreading its fronds across the stars, which seemed gigantic, he heard the distant steady sound of the sea ... In the reading room, cozy, quiet and bright only above the tables, standing a grey-haired German resembling Ibsen, in round silver glasses and with crazy, astounded eyes, was rustling through the newspapers. his head from the collar that was choking him, covered himself with a sheet of newspaper. He quickly skimmed through the titles of some articles, read a few lines about the never-ending Balkan war, turned over the newspaper with a habitual gesture, when suddenly the lines flashed in front of him with a glassy sheen, his neck tensed, his eyes bulged, his pince-nez flew off his nose ... He rushed forward, wanted to take a sip air - and wildly wheezed; his lower jaw fell off, illuminating his entire mouth with gold fillings, his head fell on his shoulder and rolled around, his shirt chest bulged out like a box - and his whole body, wriggling, raising the carpet with his heels, crawled to the floor, desperately fighting with someone.

If there hadn’t been a German in the reading room, they would have quickly and deftly managed to hush up this terrible incident in the hotel, instantly, in reverse, they would have dashed off by the legs and head of the gentleman from San Francisco to hell - and not a single soul from the guests would have known what he had done He. But the German burst out of the reading room with a cry, he aroused the whole house, the whole dining room, and many jumped up for food, overturning chairs, many, turning pale, ran to the reading room, in all languages ​​it was heard: “What, what happened?” - and no one answered plainly, no one understood anything, because people still marvel even more than anything and do not want to believe in death for anything. The host rushed from one guest to another, trying to delay the fleeing and calm them down with hasty assurances that this was so, a trifle, a small swoon with one gentleman from San Francisco ... But no one listened to him, many saw how lackeys and bellboys tore off this gentleman a tie, a waistcoat, a crumpled tuxedo, and even for some reason ballroom shoes with black silk legs with flat feet. And he still fought. He persistently struggled with death, did not want to succumb to it for anything, right. Suddenly and rudely fell on him. He shook his head, wheezed, as if stabbed to death, rolled his eyes like a drunk ... When they hurriedly carried him in and put him on the bed in room forty-three - the smallest, worst, dampest and coldest, at the end of the lower corridor - his daughter came running, with her hair loose, in a bonnet open, with a bare chest raised by a corset, then a big, heavy wife, already completely dressed up for dinner, whose mouth was round with horror ... But then he stopped shaking his head.

"The Gentleman from San Francisco" is a work that is included in the ranks of Russian classics. The genre of "The Gentleman from San Francisco" cannot be defined immediately, it is necessary to disassemble the work, analyze it, and only then draw any definite conclusions. But it is important to say right away that the work carries a very large semantic load. The theme of the story "The Gentleman from San Francisco" touches on very important vital problems of society.

A few words about the plot

Speaking about the description of the gentleman from San Francisco, it is important to note that the author himself does not name his main character in any way. In other words, the name of the protagonist is unknown to the reader, because, as Bunin himself writes, no one remembers the name of the man, which is already an indicator that the protagonist was an ordinary rich man who did not bring any benefit to society.

In addition, as it turns out at the end of the story, no one will miss the gentleman from San Francisco. This also proves the fact that among the acquaintances and relatives of the man there were no people who would truly love and appreciate him, and did not perceive him as a fat wallet that could pay for any whim.

The content of "The Gentleman from San Francisco" Bunin

To properly analyze a story, you need to know its content. Continuing the description of the gentleman from San Francisco, let's look at the plot that unfolds around the main character. A man, this very gentleman, goes on a journey with his family, consisting of his wife and daughter. He worked hard throughout his life and now, finally, he can afford such a vacation, because he is pretty rich.

Going to a place of rest on a huge and expensive ship, the gentleman does not deny himself any amenities: the ship has baths, gyms, and ballrooms. Many passengers simply stroll along the decks. From the description of the conditions on this ship, the reader can immediately see that the people on board are rich. They can afford any pleasure: several meals, liquors, cigars and much more.

When the ship arrives at its final destination - Naples, a gentleman from San Francisco, along with his family, goes to an expensive hotel. Even at the hotel, everything goes as planned: in the morning - breakfast, a walk, in the afternoon - visiting museums and sightseeing, in the evening - a rich table and a hearty dinner. But this year turned out to be not very warm for Naples - it rains incessantly and an icy wind blows. Then the family of the gentleman from San Francisco decides to go to the island of Capri, where, according to rumors, there is a strong heat and lemons bloom.

Death of a rich man

Sitting on a small steamboat, the family does not find a place for themselves - they have seasickness, from which they are very exhausted. Having reached the island, the master's family stays at a small hotel. More or less recovered from the hard journey, the family begins to prepare for dinner. Having gathered before his daughter and wife, the man goes to a quiet reading room. Opening the newspaper, the gentleman suddenly felt unwell, and he died of a heart attack.

The body of a gentleman from San Francisco is transferred to one of the smallest bedrooms in the entire hotel. The wife, daughter and several employees standing around look at him and do not know what to do next - whether to rejoice, or to grieve. The master's wife asks the hotel owner for permission to transfer the body of her late husband to their apartment, but is refused. According to the owner, these rooms are too valuable for his hotel and he simply cannot afford to ruin the reputation of his business. The master's wife also asks where she can order a coffin for the deceased. The owner of the hotel explains that such things cannot be found here, and in return offers the widow a huge soda box as a coffin.

Already at dawn, the body of the late gentleman from San Francisco is sent to his native land. The body, which lies in a well-tarred soda box, is at the very bottom of the ship. He goes home the same way, around the master the deep sea waters are still terribly noisy.

Protagonist's world

Speaking about the genre of "The Gentleman from San Francisco", it is important to say that this is a story. This is immediately evident from the first lines of the work, which tell the reader about the world from which the man came.

The world from which the protagonist came is striking in its materiality: there is no place in it for human emotions or miracles - only calculation, only banknotes. The author of "The Gentleman from San Francisco" shows readers how much society has degraded - money has come to the fore, pushing into the background all the spiritual values ​​\u200b\u200bthat were laid down in man by nature.

Main characters

The main characters of "The Gentleman from San Francisco", as can be seen even from the summary, are wealthy people who do not know any financial difficulties. Their journey was planned for two years, which already indicates that it was carefully thought out. The protagonist is a gentleman from San Francisco, a man whose life is dominated by order and order. Ivan Bunin especially emphasizes all the preparations of the protagonist for this journey. Having carefully considered every detail of this trip, the main character shows himself as a responsible person, intolerant of any surprises that can put him in an awkward position, cause difficulties.

The wife of this gentleman is a woman who is used to accepting all kinds of signs of attention from her husband. She is not a support for him, but only takes everything for granted. It is not uncommon for her that he devoted his life to work in order to support his family in wealth. The master's daughter is a spoiled girl who has known neither problems nor any hardships throughout her life. Raised in excellent material conditions, she always got everything she wanted. This journey for the girl, as well as for her mother, is something ordinary and acceptable, despite the hard work of her father in his youth. In addition, it cannot be said that the girl loves her father - in her relationship with him, one feels cold and indifferent.

about the author

It is worth saying a few words about the author of The Gentleman from San Francisco right away. Ivan Bunin, who is already well known to everyone interested in literature at the age of 12-13, became the author of this work. However, "The Gentleman from San Francisco", whose genre is a story, is not at all like those works that are often found in the writer's literary archive. In this story there is a main character around whom the plot develops. Usually, the writer has works that contain descriptions of landscapes and landscapes that are “stored in memory”, like paintings. For example, Bunin's "Antonov's Apples" has become precisely the work that does not have any main plot, but contains a description of the beautiful nature that once surrounded the writer.

The image of the master

The story "The Gentleman from San Francisco", whose images are diverse and have a different role for the work, is able to teach readers to take material wealth for granted, incapable of prolonging life. As we see in the example of the protagonist, who had everything he wanted, money could not save him from a heart attack. And even though the gentleman was very rich, his body was transported home not in an expensive coffin, but in an ordinary box, which was hidden at the very bottom of the ship. Money could not even provide him with a worthy "last" way.

Wife and daughter: images

The female images in The Gentleman from San Francisco became an indicator of commercialism in the work. Accustomed to living in abundance, not denying themselves anything for many years, these two figures take all the benefits for granted. The master has become something ordinary for these two heroines, but without any value. Even after the master died, the heroines did not know how to react to his death - on the one hand, they must fall into grief, as a loving wife and daughter would do; on the other hand, the death of the master was desired, she removed the stone from the shoulders of the heroines, freeing them from the onslaught of the man.

General conclusion on the work

Having considered the content of The Gentleman from San Francisco, whose genre is defined as a story, its main characters, having analyzed all the images, it must be said that the author tried to show how society has deteriorated in a few years. Bunin talks about the degradation of the whole society, which chose money as the main value, forgetting about the simple things that made up the spiritual side of everyone. In addition, in "The Gentleman from San Francisco" Ivan Bunin shows the other side of human nature - a person gets used to everything. This is evidenced by the images of the master's daughter and wife, who take the blessings of a man for granted, not bearing any value. However, they are not developed spiritually. For them, the material, as well as for the rest, comes first, but they do not know the value of money, therefore they are able to throw it to the wind. They do not support the master, they are not even upset by his death. The man's death only spoiled the evening for them.

Ivan Bunin touches on a very important topic in the story "The Gentleman from San Francisco", which faced society: the placement of material wealth in the foreground in people's lives and the complete denial of everything spiritual in a person.

Small Bunin's prose is not very large, but it is very difficult to understand. The author skillfully uses in the text images, symbols and artistic details that are not always easy to remember in class, especially in a nervous environment. Therefore, each student will benefit from our summary of "The Gentleman from San Francisco" for the reader's diary. And to write an interesting review, the Literaguru team also wrote a kind of hint - the legendary story of Bunin. Enjoy reading!

(435 words) A fifty-eight-year-old rich gentleman from San Francisco, whose name no one remembered, decided to go on a two-year cruise to the Old World. He went with an apathetic wife, who was never very impressionable, and a sickly daughter.

The plans that the “master” built implied a wide range of countries he visited: Southern Italy, Nice, Monte Carlo, Rome, Venice, Paris, Egypt and even Japan. Life on a cruise ship was more like a big hotel where every day they drank coffee, took baths, savored hot chocolate, rested, read and just enjoyed "their position". The peculiarity of "Atlantis" consisted in a rich night program.

In the evening, people seemed to come to life, an orchestra played, the ladies were in elegant dresses, and the gentlemen were in suits. The gentleman from San Francisco was awkwardly built, thin and short, but the tuxedo, which fit him perfectly, made him very young. The wife also did not differ in a fair amount of "beauty": she was full and wide, while the daughter is a real beauty, tall and stately. Dinner lasted about an hour, after which dances were announced, while men who looked like "master" sat at a table and smoked cigars, which were brought to them by Negroes in red coats.

On the second day of their journey, the picture of the horizon changed, and Naples appeared. Meanwhile, the "master's" daughter was standing on deck with the prince she was introduced to by a lucky chance. He was not good-looking, with a flat face and swarthy skin, but she found him charming. The “master” himself looked at the beautiful blonde with the dog, while the daughter in every possible way pretended not to notice him.

After a while, "Atlantis" entered the harbor, and the "master" got off the liner, realizing that he could go to any hotel, even the one that the prince wanted to choose. Having settled in a new place, the family leads the usual daily routine, consisting of breakfast, excursions to new places, lunch and tea. However, the weather brings them down: instead of a sunny city, slush and mud await them, so they decide to go to the island of Capri, where, according to the locals, it is always warm and lemons grow.

Their mode of transportation was a small steamer, which delivered them to the place, despite the seasickness through which the whole family of the “master” went. They end up at a hotel where they are offered to go and change for dinner. A gentleman from San Francisco goes to his reading room, sits down on an armchair and takes a newspaper, but then a surprise occurs: the words blur, the newspaper falls, and the “master” himself dies. The guests are horrified, but the host understands that it is necessary to get out of a terrible situation.

Bunin's story "The Gentleman from San Francisco" tells that everything depreciates before the fact of death. Human life is subject to decay, it is too short to waste it in vain, and the main idea of ​​this instructive story is to comprehend the essence of human existence. The meaning of the life of the hero of this story lies in his belief that everything can be bought with the available wealth, but fate decided otherwise. We offer an analysis of the work "The Gentleman from San Francisco" according to the plan, the material will be useful in preparing for the exam in literature in grade 11.

Brief analysis

Year of writing– 1915

History of creation- In a shop window, Bunin accidentally drew attention to the cover of Thomas Mann's book "Death in Venice", this was the impetus for writing the story.

Subject– The opposites that surround a person everywhere are the main theme of the work - this is life and death, wealth and poverty, power and insignificance. All this reflects the philosophy of the author himself.

Composition– The problematics of “The Gentleman from San Francisco” includes both philosophical and socio-political character. The author reflects on the frailty of life, on the attitude of a person to spiritual and material values, from the point of view of various strata of society. The plot of the story begins with the journey of the master, the climax is his unexpected death, and in the denouement of the story the author reflects on the future of mankind.

Genre- A story that is a meaningful parable.

Direction- Realism. In the story of Bunin, it acquires a deep philosophical meaning.

History of creation

The history of the creation of Bunin's story dates back to 1915, when he saw the cover of the book by Thomas Mann. After that, he visited his sister, remembered the cover, for some reason she caused him to associate with the death of one of the Americans on vacation, which happened during a vacation in Capri. Immediately, a sudden decision came to him to describe this incident, which he did in the shortest possible time - the story was written in just four days. With the exception of the deceased American, all other facts in the story are completely fictitious.

Subject

In The Gentleman from San Francisco, the analysis of the work allows us to highlight main idea of ​​the story, which consists in the author's philosophical reflections on the meaning of life, on the essence of being.

Critics enthusiastically reacted to the creation of the Russian writer, interpreting the essence of the philosophical story in their own way. Theme of the story- life and death, poverty and luxury, in the description of this hero, who lived his life in vain, reflects the worldview of the whole society, divided into classes. High society, possessing all material values, having the opportunity to buy everything that is only for sale, do not have the most important thing - spiritual values.

On the ship, a dancing couple, depicting sincere happiness, is also a fake. These are actors who have been bought to play love. There is nothing real, everything is artificial and feigned, everything is bought. And the people themselves are false and hypocritical, they are faceless, which is what the meaning of the name this story.

And the master has no name, his life is aimless and empty, he does not bring any benefit, he only enjoys the benefits created by representatives of another, lower class. He dreamed of buying everything that was possible, but did not have time, fate decreed in its own way, and took his life from him. When he dies, no one remembers him, he only causes inconvenience to others, including his family.

The bottom line is that he died - that's all, he does not need any wealth, luxury, power and honor. He doesn't care where he lies - in a luxurious inlaid coffin, or in a simple soda box. Life was in vain, he did not experience real, sincere human feelings, did not know love and happiness, in the worship of the golden calf.

Composition

The storytelling is divided into two parts: how a gentleman sails on a ship to the coast of Italy, and the journey of the same gentleman back, on the same ship, only already in a coffin.

In the first part, the hero enjoys all the possible benefits that money can buy, he has all the best: a hotel room, gourmet meals, and all the other delights of life. The gentleman has so much money that he planned a trip for two years, together with his family, wife and daughter, who also do not deny themselves anything.

But after the climax, when the hero is overtaken by sudden death, everything changes dramatically. The owner of the hotel does not even allow to put the corpse of the gentleman in his room, having allocated for this purpose the cheapest and most inconspicuous. There is not even a decent coffin in which the gentleman can be put, and he is put in an ordinary box, which is a container for some products. On the ship, where the gentleman was blissful on deck among high society, his place is only in the dark hold.

Main characters

Genre

"The Gentleman from San Francisco" can be summed up as genre story a, but this story is filled with deep philosophical content, and differs from other Bunin's works. Usually, Bunin's stories contain a description of nature and natural phenomena, striking in their liveliness and realism.

In the same work there is a main character, around whom the conflict of this story is tied. Its content makes us think about the problems of society, about its degradation, which has turned into a spiritually mercantile creature, worshiping only one idol - money, and renounced everything spiritual.

The whole story is subject philosophical direction, and in plot plan is an instructive parable that gives a lesson to the reader. The injustice of a class society, where the lower part of the population vegetates in poverty, and the cream of high society senselessly burns life, all this, in the end, leads to a single finale, and in the face of death everyone is equal, both poor and rich, no one can buy it off money.

Bunin's story "The Gentleman from San Francisco" is rightfully considered one of the most outstanding works in his work.

Artwork test

Analysis Rating

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