Dead souls part 5. A brief retelling of "dead souls" chapter by chapter

“All Rus' will appear in it!” - Gogol said about the plot of “Dead Souls”. The author compiled the monumental epic canvas of his poem from everyday sketches, portraits, landscapes, and lyrical digressions.
Here, for example, is an episode from chapter 5 of the first volume. Chichikov, fleeing from Nozdryov, tells the coachman to drive faster. Selifan, apparently immersed in his unpleasant thoughts, does not notice the oncoming crew. A collision occurs. The author talks in some detail about how the heroes get out of this annoying misunderstanding. Why? After all, here we do not meet any persons or facts significant for the plot.
However, this episode contains many interesting details that reveal the characters of Russian people and the peculiarities of everyday life. The incident with the crew only at first glance seems unimportant for the plot of the poem. Let's look at this episode. What does he hide within himself?
The scene begins with Selifan's dialogue with someone else's coachman. Gogol describes what was happening with irony: “Selifan felt his mistake, but since a Russian person does not like to admit to another that he is guilty, he immediately said, with a dignified manner: “Why are you jumping around like that? did he put his eyes in a tavern, or what?” “Abuse” and “threats” addressed to the hero are completely fair, but he does not allow himself to be offended, he defends his own dignity by responding to insults.
Further, Selifan shows that the dispute is not only about words, but also about deeds. He immediately begins to correct his mistake. “That’s not the case,” the author comments, “everything got mixed up.” While the coachman is busy with work, Chichikov’s idle gaze notices the ladies sitting in the carriage, his friends in misfortune. Here the narrative becomes more lyrical, although Gogol still cannot do without irony. This is how he describes one of the ladies: “young, sixteen years old, with golden hair, very deftly and sweetly smoothed on a small head. The pretty oval of her face was round, like a fresh egg, and, like it, turned white with some kind of transparent whiteness, when fresh, just laid, it is held against the light in the dark hands of the housekeeper testing it and lets in the rays of the shining sun; her thin ears also showed through, glowing with the warm light that penetrated them. At the same time, the fear in her open, frozen lips, tears in her eyes - all this was so sweet in her that our hero looked at her for several minutes. Of course, she is of a special kind. This is evidenced by the “gastronomic” comparison of the heroine’s face with a testicle. This is a manifestation of Chichikov’s predatory essence. After all, we look at the girl through his eyes, not Gogol’s. True, the heroine’s fear and tears touch the soul of the callous businessman.
The author draws our attention not only to people. We observe the interesting behavior of horses, which Gogol likens to human behavior. The sketch turns out to be funny: “... the brown horse liked the new acquaintance... and, putting his muzzle on the neck of his new friend, he... whispered something in his very ear, probably terrible nonsense, because the visitor was constantly shaking his ears.” The scene is authentic, it allows you to vividly imagine the picture and... laugh heartily at people and animals. Gogol portrays both of them as individuals, each of whom has their own interests.
Events are unfolding rapidly. The encounter, like a performance, gathers the “abyss” of people from the village. Apparently, the men had nothing else to do, since they directed all their energy to advice and other participation in the incident. “Uncle Mityai” and “Uncle Minyai” rushed to help with such zeal that they almost tortured the horses. Depicting men, the author again uses irony. “Uncle Mityai” resembles both a “village bell tower” and “a hook used to get water from a well,” but “Uncle Mityai” is completely different, similar to “that gigantic samovar in which sbiten is cooked for the entire vegetated market.” . The funny thing is that neither one “got anything”, nor the other “cooked” anything. The men could not help the coachmen. It ended with the horses being freed from their obnoxious riders, and the animals, having rested for a minute, walked off on their own.
The climactic scene with the men very well demonstrates, it seems to me, the main qualities of the people - activity, energy, which is sometimes wasted senselessly, the desire to solve everything by force, without properly understanding the matter, and the “wise” hope “at chance” - after all, everything is over quite unexpected of course. What can I say? And laughter and sin. But we still live like this, only the chaises have been exchanged for cars.
Thus, the episode with the collision of crews, as well as other scenes not directly related to the plot, help to comprehensively cover life Russia XIX century. “Dead Souls” is all of Rus' with its good and evil.

Our hero died, however, in order. Although the britzka was racing at full speed and Nozdryov’s village had long since disappeared from sight, covered by fields, slopes and hillocks, he still looked back with fear, as if expecting that the pursuit was about to come. His breathing came with difficulty, and when he tried to put his hand to his heart, he felt that it was beating like a quail in a cage. “What a bathhouse! look what you are like!” Here Nozdryov was promised many difficult and strong desires; There were even some bad words. What to do? Russian people, and in their hearts too. Besides, it was a completely serious matter. “Whatever you say,” he said to himself, “if the police captain had not arrived, I might not have been able to look at the light of day again! I would have disappeared like a blister on the water, without any trace, leaving no descendants, without providing future children with either a fortune or an honest name!” Our hero cared very much about his descendants.

“What a nasty master! – Selifan thought to himself. “I have never seen such a gentleman before.” That is, I should spit on him for that! You better man don’t let him eat, but you must feed the horse, because the horse loves oats. This is his food: what, for example, is kosht for us, is oats for him, it is his food.”

The horses also seemed to be thinking unfavorably about Nozdryov: not only the bay and the Assessor, but also the brown-haired man himself was out of sorts. Although he always got worse oats for his share, and Selifan poured it into his trough in no other way than having said before: “Oh, you scoundrel!” - but, however, it was still oats, and not simple hay, he chewed it with pleasure and often stuck his long muzzle into the troughs of his comrades to taste what kind of food they had, especially when Selifan was not in the stable, but now it’s just hay... not good; everyone was unhappy.

But soon all the dissatisfied were interrupted in the midst of their outpourings in a sudden and completely unexpected way. Everyone, not excluding the coachman himself, came to his senses and woke up only when a carriage with six horses galloped towards them and almost over their heads there was a cry from the ladies sitting in the carriage, abuse and threats from someone else’s coachman: “Oh, you’re such a swindler; After all, I shouted to you loudly: turn right, crow! Are you drunk, or what?” Selifan felt his mistake, but since a Russian person does not like to admit to another that he is to blame, he immediately said, with a dignified manner: “Why are you jumping around like that? did he put his eyes in a tavern, or what?” Following this, he began to push the chaise back in order to free himself in this way from someone else’s harness, but that was not the case, everything was confused. Chubary sniffed curiously at his new friends, who found themselves on both sides of him. Meanwhile, the ladies sitting in the carriage looked at all this with an expression of fear on their faces. One was an old woman, the other was young, sixteen years old, with golden hair, very deftly and sweetly smoothed on her small head. The pretty oval of her face was round, like a fresh egg, and, like it, turned white with some kind of transparent whiteness, when fresh, just laid, it is held against the light in the dark hands of the housekeeper testing it and lets in the rays of the shining sun; her thin ears also showed through, glowing with the warm light that penetrated them. At the same time, the fear in her open, frozen lips, the tears in her eyes - all this was so sweet about her that our hero looked at her for several minutes, not paying any attention to the commotion that had taken place between the horses and coachmen. “Sit down, you Nizhny Novgorod crow!” - shouted someone else's coachman. Selifan pulled the reins back, the other coachman did the same, the horses backed away a little and then collided again, stepping over the lines. Under this circumstance, the brown-haired horse liked the new acquaintance so much that he did not want to get out of the rut into which he had fallen due to unforeseen fates, and, placing his muzzle on the neck of his new friend, seemed to be whispering something in his very ear, probably nonsense scary, because the visitor was constantly shaking his ears.

However, the men from the village, which, fortunately, was nearby, managed to gather for such a commotion. Since such a sight is a real blessing for a peasant, just like a newspaper or a club for a German, soon an abyss of them accumulated around the carriage, and only old women and small children remained in the village. The lines were untied; a few pokes to the brown horse’s face made him back away; in a word, they were separated and separated. But whether it was the annoyance that the visiting horses felt for being separated from their friends, or just stupidity, no matter how much their coachman whipped, they did not move and stood rooted to the spot. The participation of men increased to an incredible degree. Each of them vying with each other with advice: “Go, Andryushka, check with the guard, what’s wrong?” right side , and let Uncle Mityai sit astride the native! Sit down, Uncle Mityai! Lean and long Uncle Mityai with a red beard climbed onto a root horse and looked like a village bell tower, or, better, like a hook used to get water from wells. The coachman hit the horses, but no such luck, Uncle Mityai did nothing to help. “Stop, stop! - the men shouted. “Sit down, Uncle Mityai, on the side one, and let Uncle Minyai sit on the main one!” Uncle Minyai, a broad-shouldered man with a coal-black beard and a belly similar to that gigantic samovar in which sbiten is cooked for the entire vegetated market, willingly sat down on the indigenous man, who almost bent down to the ground under him. “Now things will go! - the men shouted. - Heat it up, heat it up! Spankor with a whip that nightingale over there, he’s squirming like a coramora!” But, seeing that things were not going well and no amount of heat helped, Uncle Mityai and Uncle Minyai both sat on the main one, and put Andryushka on the side one. Finally, the coachman, losing patience, drove away both Uncle Mitya and Uncle Minya, and it was a good thing, because such steam came from the horses, as if they had grabbed the station without taking a breath. He gave them a minute to rest, after which they went on their own. During the entire continuation of this trick, Chichikov looked very carefully at the young stranger. He tried to talk to her several times, but somehow he didn’t have to. Meanwhile, the ladies left, the pretty head with delicate features and a thin figure disappeared, like something similar to a vision, and again what was left was the road, the chaise, the three horses familiar to the reader, Selifan, Chichikov, the smooth surface and emptiness of the surrounding fields. Wherever in life, whether among the callous, rough, poor and unkempt and moldy low-lying ranks of it or among the monotonously cold and boringly neat upper classes, everywhere at least once a person will encounter a phenomenon that is not similar to everything that what had happened to him before that would at least once awaken in him a feeling different from those that he was destined to feel all his life. Everywhere, across whatever sorrows from which our lives are weaved, shining joy will rush merrily, as sometimes a brilliant carriage with golden harness, picture horses and the sparkling shine of glass will suddenly suddenly rush past some stalled poor village, which has seen nothing but the countryside. carts, and the men stood for a long time, yawning, with their mouths open, without putting on their hats, although the marvelous carriage had long since sped away and disappeared from sight. So the blonde, too, suddenly appeared in our story in a completely unexpected way and disappeared in the same way. If at that time you had come across some twenty-year-old youth instead of Chichikov, whether he was a hussar, a student, or simply someone who had just begun his career in life - and God! whatever would wake up, move, speak within him! For a long time he would stand senseless in one place, mindlessly gazing into the distance, forgetting the road, and all the reprimands awaiting ahead, and scoldings for delay, forgetting himself, and the service, and the world, and everything that is in the world.

But our hero was already middle-aged and of a cautiously cool character. He also became thoughtful and thought, but his thoughts were more positive, not so unaccountable, and even partly very grounded. “Nice grandma! - he said, opening the snuff box and sniffing the tobacco. - But what, most importantly, is good about it? The good thing is that she has just now, apparently, been released from some boarding school or institute, that, as they say, there is still nothing feminine about her, that is, exactly what they have that is most unpleasant. She is now like a child, everything about her is simple, she will say whatever she wants, laugh wherever she wants to laugh. You can make anything out of it, it can be a miracle, or it can turn out to be rubbish, and it can turn out to be rubbish! Just let the mothers and aunties take care of her now. One year she will be so filled with all sorts of womanly things that her own father himself will not recognize it. Where does the pout and stiffness come from, he will begin to toss and turn according to the established instructions, he will begin to rack his brains and figure out with whom and how, and how much to speak, how to look at whom, he will be afraid every minute, so as not to say more than necessary, he will finally get confused himself , and will end up lying all his life, and it will just come out like hell!” Here he was silent for a while and then added: “Wouldn’t it be interesting to know whose it is? what, how is her father? Is he a rich landowner of respectable character or simply a well-meaning person with capital acquired in the service? After all, if, let’s say, this girl was given a dowry of two thousand thousand, she could make a very, very tasty morsel. This could constitute, so to speak, the happiness of a decent person.” Two hundred thousand rubles began to appear so attractively in his head that he inwardly began to be annoyed with himself, why, while continuing to fuss around the carriages, he did not find out from the postilion or coachman who the travelers were. Soon, however, the appearance of Sobakevich's village dispelled his thoughts and forced them to turn to their constant subject.

The village seemed quite large to him; two forests, birch and pine, like two wings, one darker, the other lighter, were on her right and left; was visible in the middle wooden house with a mezzanine, a red roof and dark gray or, better yet, wild walls - a house like the ones we build for military settlements and German colonists. It was noticeable that during its construction the architect constantly struggled with the taste of the owner. The architect was a pedant and wanted symmetry, the owner wanted convenience and, apparently, as a result, he boarded up all the corresponding windows on one side and screwed in their place one small one, probably needed for a dark closet. The pediment also did not fit in the middle of the house, no matter how hard the architect struggled, because the owner ordered one column on the side to be thrown out, and therefore there were not four columns, as was intended, but only three. The yard was surrounded by a strong and excessively thick wooden lattice. The landowner seemed to be concerned a lot about strength. For the stables, barns and kitchens, full-weight and thick logs were used, determined to stand for centuries. The village huts of the peasants were also built marvelously: there were no brick walls, carved patterns or other tricks, but everything was fitted tightly and properly. Even the well was lined with the kind of strong oak that is used only for mills and ships. In a word, everything he looked at was stubborn, without shaking, in some kind of strong and clumsy order. Approaching the porch, he noticed two faces looking out of the window almost at the same time: a female, in a cap, narrow, long, like a cucumber, and a male, round, wide, like the Moldavian pumpkins, called gourds, from which balalaikas, two-stringed, are made in Rus' light balalaikas, the beauty and fun of an agile twenty-year-old guy, flashing and dandy, winking and whistling at the white-breasted and white-necked girls who had gathered to listen to his quiet strumming. Having looked out, both faces immediately hid. A footman in a gray jacket with a blue stand-up collar came out onto the porch and led Chichikov into the hallway, where the owner himself came out. Seeing the guest, he said abruptly: “Please!” - and led him into the inner dwellings.

When Chichikov looked sideways at Sobakevich, this time he seemed to him very similar to a medium-sized bear. To complete the similarity, the tailcoat he was wearing was completely bear-colored, his sleeves were long, his trousers were long, he walked with his feet this way and that, constantly stepping on other people’s feet. His complexion was red-hot, the kind you get on a copper coin. It is known that there are many such persons in the world, over the finishing of which nature did not spend much time, did not use any small tools, such as files, gimlets and other things, but simply chopped from her shoulder: she took the ax once and her nose came out, she took it another time. - her lips came out, she picked her eyes with a large drill and, without scraping them, released them into the light, saying: “He lives!” Sobakevich had the same strong and amazingly well-made image: he held it more downward than up, did not move his neck at all, and due to such non-rotation, he rarely looked at the person he was talking to, but always either at the corner of the stove or at the door . Chichikov glanced sideways at him again as they passed the dining room: bear! perfect bear! We need such a strange rapprochement: he was even called Mikhail Semenovich. Knowing his habit of stepping on his feet, he moved his own very carefully and gave him the way forward. The owner seemed to feel this sin behind him and immediately asked: “Did I bother you?” But Chichikov thanked him, saying that no disturbance had yet occurred.

The hero of “Dead Souls” Sobakevich. Artist Boklevsky

Entering the living room, Sobakevich pointed to the armchairs, saying again: “Please!” Sitting down, Chichikov looked at the walls and the paintings hanging on them. In the paintings all were fine fellows, all Greek commanders, engraved to their full height: Mavrocordato in red trousers and uniform, with glasses on his nose, Miaouli, Canari. All these heroes had such thick thighs and incredible mustaches that a shiver ran through their bodies. Between the strong Greeks, no one knows how or why, Bagration, skinny, skinny, with small banners and cannons below and in the narrowest frames, was placed. Then again followed the Greek heroine Bobelina, to whom one leg seemed larger than the entire body of those dandies who fill today's living rooms. The owner, being a healthy and strong man himself, seemed to want his room to be decorated by strong and healthy people too. Near Bobelina, right next to the window, hung a cage, from which looked out a blackbird of a dark color with white specks, also very similar to Sobakevich. The guest and the owner did not have time to remain silent for two minutes when the door in the living room opened and the hostess entered, a very tall lady, wearing a cap with ribbons repainted with house paint. She entered sedately, holding her head straight like a palm tree.

- This is my Feoduliya Ivanovna! - said Sobakevich.

Chichikov walked up to Feodulia Ivanovna’s hand, which she almost pushed into his lips, and he had occasion to notice that his hands were washed with cucumber pickle.

Feodulia Ivanovna asked to sit down, also saying: “Please!” - and made a movement with his head, like actresses representing queens. Then she sat down on the sofa, covered herself with her merino scarf and no longer moved an eye or an eyebrow.

Chichikov again looked up and again saw Canary with thick thighs and an endless mustache, Bobelina and a blackbird in a cage.

For almost a full five minutes everyone remained silent; All that could be heard was the knock made by the blackbird’s nose on the wood of the wooden cage, at the bottom of which he was fishing for grains of bread. Chichikov looked around the room again, and everything that was in it was solid, clumsy to the highest degree and bore some strange resemblance to the owner of the house himself; in the corner of the living room stood a pot-bellied walnut bureau on the most absurd four legs, a perfect bear. The table, armchairs, chairs - everything was of the heaviest and most restless quality - in a word, every object, every chair seemed to say: “And I, too, Sobakevich!” or: “And I also look very much like Sobakevich!”

“We talked about you at the chairman of the chamber, Ivan Grigorievich,” Chichikov said finally, seeing that no one was in the mood to start a conversation, “last Thursday.” We had a very pleasant time there.

“Yes, I wasn’t with the chairman then,” Sobakevich answered.

- What a wonderful person!

- Who it? - said Sobakevich, looking at the corner of the stove.

- Chairman.

- Well, maybe it seemed like that to you: he’s just a Freemason, but such a fool as the world has never produced.

Chichikov was a little puzzled by this somewhat harsh definition, but then, having recovered, he continued:

- Of course, every person is not without weaknesses, but what an excellent person the governor is!

– Is the governor an excellent person?

- Yes, isn't it?

- The first robber in the world!

- What, the governor is a robber? - said Chichikov and absolutely could not understand how the governor could end up among the robbers. “I admit, I would never have thought of this,” he continued. “But let me note, however, that his actions are not at all like that; on the contrary, there is rather a lot of gentleness in him.” - Here he even brought as evidence the wallets embroidered with his own hands, and spoke with praise of the affectionate expression on his face.

- And the face of a robber! - said Sobakevich. - Just give him a knife and let him out onto the main road - he’ll kill you, he’ll kill you for a penny! He and also the vice-governor are Goga and Magog!

“No, he’s not on good terms with them,” Chichikov thought to himself. “But I’ll talk to him about the police chief: he seems to be his friend.”

“However, as for me,” he said, “I confess that I like the police chief more than anyone else.” Some sort of direct, open character; There is something simple-hearted in his face.

- Scammer! - Sobakevich said very calmly, - he will sell, deceive, and even have lunch with you! I know them all: they are all scammers, the whole city there is like this: the scammer sits on the scammer and drives the scammer. All sellers of Christ. There is only one decent person there: the prosecutor; and even that one, to tell the truth, is a pig.

After such commendable, although somewhat short biographies Chichikov saw that there was nothing to mention about other officials, and remembered that Sobakevich did not like to speak well of anyone.

“Well, darling, let’s go to dinner,” his wife said to Sobakevich.

- Ask! - said Sobakevich.

Then, going up to the table where there was a snack, the guest and the owner drank a glass of vodka, ate, as the whole of vast Russia snacks in cities and villages, that is, with all sorts of pickles and other stimulating blessings, and they all flowed into the dining room; ahead of them, like a smooth goose, the hostess rushed. The small table was set with four cutlery. In the fourth place she appeared very quickly, it is difficult to say for sure who she was, a lady or a maiden, a relative, a housekeeper, or simply someone living in the house: something without a cap, about thirty years old, wearing a colorful scarf. There are faces that exist in the world not as an object, but as extraneous specks or specks on an object. They sit in the same place, hold their heads in the same way, you are almost ready to mistake them for furniture and you think that a word has never come out of such mouths in your life; and somewhere in the girl's room or in the pantry it will be simply: wow!

- Cabbage soup, my soul, is very good today! - said Sobakevich, taking a sip of cabbage soup and taking a huge piece of nanny from his dish, a famous dish that is served with cabbage soup and consists of a lamb stomach stuffed with buckwheat porridge, brain and legs. “Such a nanny,” he continued, turning to Chichikov, “you won’t eat in the city, God knows what they’ll serve you there!”

“The governor, however, has a pretty good table,” said Chichikov.

– Do you know what it’s all made from? you won't eat it when you find out.

– I don’t know how it’s prepared, I can’t judge that, but the pork cutlets and boiled fish were excellent.

- It seemed so to you. After all, I know what they buy at the market. That rascal cook over there who learned from the Frenchman will buy a cat, skin it, and serve it on the table instead of a hare.

- Ugh! “What a nuisance you are talking about,” said Sobakevich’s wife.

“Well, darling, that’s how they do it, it’s not my fault, that’s how they all do it.” Whatever is unnecessary that Shark throws, so to speak, into the trash can, they throw it into the soup! yes to the soup! there it is!

“You always say things like that at the table!” – Sobakevich’s wife objected again.

“Well, my soul,” said Sobakevich, “if I did it myself, but I’ll tell you straight to your face that I won’t eat nasty things.” Even if you put sugar on a frog, I won’t put it in my mouth, and I won’t take an oyster either: I know what an oyster looks like. Take a lamb,” he continued, turning to Chichikov, “this is a side of lamb with porridge!” These are not the fricassees that are made in noble kitchens from lamb, which has been lying around on the market for four days! The German and French doctors invented all this, I would hang them for this! They came up with a diet, treat with hunger! Because they have a German liquid nature, they imagine that they can cope with the Russian stomach! No, this is all wrong, this is all fiction, this is all... - Here Sobakevich even shook his head angrily. - They interpret: enlightenment, enlightenment, and this enlightenment is a bummer! I would have said another word, but it was just indecent at the table. Not so for me. When I have pork, bring the whole pig to the table, lamb, bring the whole lamb, goose, bring the whole goose! I’d rather eat two dishes, but eat in moderation, as my soul requires. - Sobakevich confirmed this with action: he dumped half a side of lamb onto his plate, ate it all, gnawed it, sucked it to the last bone.

“Yes,” thought Chichikov, “this one’s got a good lip.”

“It’s not like that with me,” said Sobakevich, wiping his hands with a napkin, “it’s not like that with some Plyushkin: he has eight hundred souls, but lives and dines worse than my shepherd!”

-Who is this Plyushkin? - Chichikov asked.

“A fraudster,” answered Sobakevich. - Such a miser that it’s hard to imagine. The convicts live better in prison than he does: he starved all the people to death.

- Really! – Chichikov picked up with participation. - And you say that he definitely has people dying in large numbers?

-Like flies die.

- Really like flies! Let me ask, how far does he live from you?

- Five miles away.

- Five miles away! – Chichikov exclaimed and even felt a slight heartbeat. – But if I leave your gate, will it be to the right or to the left?

“I don’t even advise you to know the way to this dog!” - said Sobakevich. “It’s more excusable to go to some obscene place than to go to him.”

“No, I didn’t ask for any reasons, but only because I’m interested in knowing all kinds of places,” Chichikov answered.

The side of lamb was followed by cheesecakes, each of which was much larger than a plate, then a turkey the size of a calf, stuffed with all sorts of goodness: eggs, rice, livers and who knows what, so that everything lay in a lump in the stomach. That was the end of the dinner; but when they got up from the table, Chichikov felt a whole pound more heavy in himself. We went into the living room, where there was already jam on a saucer - neither a pear, nor a plum, nor any other berry, which, however, was not touched by either the guest or the owner. The hostess came out to put it on other saucers. Taking advantage of her absence, Chichikov turned to Sobakevich, who, lying in an armchair, was only groaning after such a hearty dinner and making some indistinct sounds with his mouth, crossing himself and constantly covering it with his hand. Chichikov addressed him with these words:

– I wanted to talk to you about a certain business.

“Here’s some more jam,” said the hostess, returning with a saucer, “radish boiled in honey!”

- And here we are after it! - said Sobakevich. - Now go to your room, Pavel Ivanovich and I will take off our tailcoats and rest a little!

The hostess had already expressed her readiness to send for down jackets and pillows, but the owner said: “Nothing, we’ll rest in the chairs,” and the hostess left.

Sobakevich bent his head slightly, preparing to hear what the deal was.

Chichikov began somehow very distantly, touched upon the entire Russian state in general and spoke with great praise about its space, said that even the most ancient Roman monarchy was not so great, and foreigners are rightly surprised... Sobakevich listened to everything, bowing his head. And that, according to the existing provisions of this state, the glory of which has no equal, audit souls, having completed their career in life, are, however, counted, until the submission of a new audit tale, on an equal basis with the living, so as not to burden government offices with a multitude of petty and useless certificates and not to increase the complexity of an already very complex state mechanism... Sobakevich listened to everything with his head bowed - and that, however, with all the justice of this measure, it can be partly burdensome for many owners, obliging them to pay taxes as if for a living object, and that he, feeling personal respect for him, would be ready to even partially take on this really difficult responsibility. As for the main subject, Chichikov expressed himself very carefully: he did not call souls dead, but only non-existent.

Sobakevich listened to everything as before, with his head bent, and at least something similar to an expression appeared on his face. It seemed that this body had no soul at all, or it had one, but not at all where it should be, but, like the immortal Koshchei, somewhere behind the mountains and covered with such a thick shell that everything that moved at the bottom it did not produce absolutely any shock on the surface.

“So?..” said Chichikov, expecting an answer, not without some excitement.

- You need dead souls? – Sobakevich asked very simply, without the slightest surprise, as if we were talking about bread.

“Yes,” Chichikov answered and again softened his expression, adding: “non-existent.”

“There will be reasons why not…” said Sobakevich.

– And if they are found, then you, no doubt... will be pleased to get rid of them?

“If you please, I’m ready to sell,” said Sobakevich, having already raised his head somewhat and realized that the buyer must probably have some benefit here.

“Damn it,” Chichikov thought to himself, “this one’s already selling before I even stuttered!” - and said out loud:

- And, for example, what about the price? although, however, this is such an item... that the price is even strange...

- Yes, so as not to ask too much from you, one hundred rubles apiece! - said Sobakevich.

- One hundred percent! - Chichikov cried, opening his mouth and looking straight into his eyes, not knowing whether he himself had misheard, or whether Sobakevich’s tongue, due to its heavy nature, turned the wrong way, blurted out another word instead of one.

- Well, is it really worth it to you? - said Sobakevich and then added: - But what would your price be?

- My price! We must have somehow made a mistake or do not understand each other, we have forgotten what the subject is. I believe for my part, hand on heart: at eight hryvnia per soul, this is the best price!

- What a waste - eight hryvnias each!

“Well, in my judgment, I think it’s no longer possible.”

– After all, I’m not selling bast shoes.

- However, you must agree: after all, these are not people either.

“So you think you can find such a fool who would sell you a revision’s soul for two kopecks?”

- But excuse me: why do you call them revisions, after all, the souls have already died a long time ago, only one sound, intangible to the senses, remains. However, in order not to enter into further discussions on this part, I’ll give you one and a half rubles, if you please, but I can’t take any more.

– It’s a shame for you to say such a sum! you bargain, tell the real price!

“I can’t, Mikhail Semyonovich, believe my conscience, I can’t: what can’t be done, that can’t be done,” Chichikov said, but he added another fifty kopecks.

- Why are you being stingy? - said Sobakevich. - Really, it’s inexpensive! Another scammer will deceive you, sell you rubbish, not souls; But I have a tough nut, everything is for selection: not a craftsman, but some other healthy guy. Just look at it: for example, the carriage maker Mikheev! After all, he never made any other carriages other than spring ones. And it’s not like the Moscow work, which is for one hour - it’s so durable, it will cut it and cover it with varnish!

Chichikov opened his mouth in order to notice that Mikheev, however, had been gone for a long time; but Sobakevich entered, as they say, into the very power of speech, where the trot and the gift of speech came from:

- And Cork Stepan, the carpenter? I'll lay my head if you can find such a guy anywhere. After all, what kind of power was that! If he had served in the guard, God knows what they would have given him, three arshins and an inch tall!

Chichikov again wanted to point out that Cork was no longer in the world; but Sobakevich, apparently, was carried away: such streams of speeches poured out that it was only necessary to listen:

- Milushkin, brickmaker! could put a stove in any house. Maxim Telyatnikov, shoemaker: whatever pricks with an awl, then the boots, whatever the boots, then thank you, and even if it’s a drunken mouth. And Eremey Sorokoplekhin! Yes, this guy alone will stand for everyone, he traded in Moscow, brought one rent for five hundred rubles. After all, this is what people are like! This is not something that some Plyushkin will sell you.

“But excuse me,” Chichikov finally said, amazed at such an abundant flood of speeches, which seemed to have no end, “why are you counting all their qualities, because now there is no sense in them, because these are all dead people.” At least prop up a fence with a dead body, says the proverb.

“Yes, of course, dead,” said Sobakevich, as if coming to his senses and remembering that they were, in fact, already dead, and then added: “However, even so, what of these people who are now considered living?” What kind of people are these? Flies, not people.

– Yes, they still exist, and this is a dream.

- Well, no, not a dream! I’ll tell you what Mikheev was like, you won’t find people like him: the machine is such that it won’t fit into this room; no, this is not a dream! And he had such strength in his shoulders that a horse does not have; I would like to know where else you would find such a dream!

He already said the last words, turning to the portraits of Bagration and Kolokotroni hanging on the wall, as usually happens with those talking when one of them suddenly, for some unknown reason, turns not to the person to whom the words refer, but to some third person who accidentally came , even to a complete stranger, from whom he knows that he will not hear any answer, opinion, or confirmation, but on whom, however, he fixes his gaze as if calling him to be an intermediary; and the stranger, somewhat confused at first, does not know whether to respond to this matter about which he has heard nothing, or to stand there, observing proper decency, and then walk away.

“No, I can’t give more than two rubles,” said Chichikov.

- Please, so that they don’t lay claim to me, that I’m asking dearly and I don’t want to do you any favor, if you please - seventy-five rubles per head, only in banknotes, really, only for acquaintance!

“Does he really think to himself,” Chichikov thought, “does he take me for a fool?” - and then added out loud:

“It’s strange to me, really: it seems like some kind of theatrical performance or comedy is happening between us, otherwise I can’t explain it to myself... You seem to be a pretty smart person, you have information about education.” After all, the subject is just fu-fu. What is he worth? who needs?

- Yes, you’re buying, so it’s needed.

Here Chichikov bit his lip and couldn’t find what to answer. He began to talk about some family and family circumstances, but Sobakevich answered simply:

– I don’t need to know what your relationship is; I don’t interfere in family affairs, that’s your business. You needed souls, I’m selling them to you, and you will regret that you didn’t buy them.

“Two rubles,” said Chichikov.

- Ek, really, Jacob’s forty confirmed one thing about everyone, as the proverb says; Once you set up two, you don’t want to move out of them. Give us the real price!

“Well, damn him,” Chichikov thought to himself, “I’ll give him half a dime, for the dog’s nuts!”

- If you please, I’ll add half a ruble.

- Well, if you please, I’ll tell you mine too. the last word: fifty rubles! Really, it’s a loss to yourself, you can’t buy such good people cheaper anywhere!

“What a fist!” - Chichikov said to himself and then continued out loud with some annoyance:

- Yes, really... it seems like it’s definitely a serious matter; Yes, I’ll take it somewhere else for no reason. Everyone will also willingly sell them to me, just to get rid of them as quickly as possible. Would a fool keep them with him and pay taxes for them!

“But do you know that this kind of purchase, I say this between us, out of friendship, is not always permissible, and whether I or someone else tells you, such a person will not have any power of attorney regarding contracts or entering into any profitable obligations.

“Look where he’s aiming, the scoundrel!” – thought Chichikov and immediately said with the most cool-blooded look:

- As you wish, I do not buy for any need, as you think, but because of my inclination. own thoughts. If you don’t want two and a half, goodbye!

“You can’t knock him down, he’s stubborn!” – thought Sobakevich.

- Well, God bless you, give us thirty and take them for yourself!

- No, I see you don’t want to sell, goodbye!

- Allow me, let me! - said Sobakevich, not letting go of his hand and stepping on his foot, because our hero forgot to take care, for which he had to hiss and jump on one leg as punishment.

- Sorry! I seem to have disturbed you. Please sit down here! Ask! “Here he sat him down in a chair with some dexterity, just like a bear that has already been in his hands knows how to roll over and do different things when asked: “Show me, Misha, how women steam” or: “And how, Misha?” “Are the little guys stealing peas?”

“Really, I’m wasting my time, I need to hurry.”

– Sit for a minute, I’ll tell you one pleasant word for you. - Then Sobakevich sat closer and said quietly in his ear, as if it were a secret: - Do you want a corner?

- That is, twenty-five rubles? Neither, nor, nor, I won’t even give a quarter of an angle, I won’t add a penny.

Sobakevich fell silent. Chichikov also fell silent. Silence lasted for two minutes. Bagration with an aquiline nose looked from the wall extremely carefully at this purchase.

– What will be your last price? - Sobakevich finally said.

- Two and a half.

- Really, your human soul is like a steamed turnip. Give me at least three rubles!

- I can not.

- Well, there’s nothing to do with you, if you please! It’s a loss, and I have such a dog’s temper: I can’t help but please my neighbor. After all, I’m a tea, you need to complete the bill of sale so that everything is in order.

- Of course.

- Well, that’s it, you’ll need to go to the city.

This is how it happened. Both decided to be in the city tomorrow and deal with the deed of sale. Chichikov asked for a list of peasants. Sobakevich agreed willingly and immediately, going up to the bureau, with his own hand began to write out everyone not only by name, but even with the designation of commendable qualities.

And Chichikov, having nothing better to do, began to look at his entire spacious salary from behind. As he looked at his back, wide, like the squat Vyatka horses, and at his legs, which resembled cast-iron pedestals that are placed on sidewalks, he could not help but exclaim inwardly: “What God has rewarded you with!” It’s certainly, as they say, not well-cut, but tightly sewn!.. Were you really born a bear, or did you become a bear from the provincial life, the grain crops, the fuss with the peasants, and through them you became what is called a man-fist? But no: I think you would still be the same, even if they brought you up according to fashion, let you go and live in St. Petersburg, and not in the outback. The whole difference is that now you will eat half a side of lamb with porridge, having a cheesecake on your plate, and then you would be eating some cutlets with truffles. Yes, now you have men under your power: you are in harmony with them and, of course, you will not offend them, because they are yours, but it will be worse for you; and then you would have officials whom you would slap hard, realizing that they are not your serfs, or you would rob the treasury! No! whoever has a fist cannot straighten into a palm! But straighten your fist with one or two fingers, and it will come out even worse. If he tasted the top of some science, he would let all those who had actually learned some science know later, having taken a more prominent place. Moreover, he will probably say later: “Let me show myself!” Yes, such a wise resolution will come up with that many will have to go solo... Oh, if only they were all fists!..”

“The note is ready,” Sobakevich said, turning around.

- Are you ready? Bring her here! “He ran his eyes over it and marveled at the neatness and precision: not only was the craft, title, years and family fortune written down in detail, but even in the margins there were special notes about behavior, sobriety - in a word, it was pleasant to look at.

- Now please give me a deposit! - said Sobakevich.

- Why do you need a deposit? You will receive all the money in the city at one time.

“That’s all, you know, that’s how it is,” Sobakevich objected.

“I don’t know how to give it to you, I didn’t take any money with me.” Yes, here are ten rubles.

- Well, ten! Give me at least fifty!

Chichikov began to make excuses that no; but Sobakevich said so affirmatively that he had money, that he took out another piece of paper, saying:

“Perhaps, here’s another fifteen for you, for a total of twenty-five.” Just give me a receipt.

- What do you need a receipt for?

– That’s it, you know, it’s better to have a receipt. It's not even an hour, anything can happen.

- Okay, give me the money here!

- What's the money for? I have them in my hand! As soon as you write a receipt, you will take them that very minute.

- Excuse me, how can I write a receipt? first you need to see the money.

Chichikov released the pieces of paper from his hands to Sobakevich, who, approaching the table and covering them with the fingers of his left hand, wrote on a piece of paper with the other that he had received the deposit of twenty-five rubles in government notes for the sold souls in full. Having written the note, he looked at the notes again.

- The piece of paper is old! - he said, examining one of them in the world, - it’s a little torn, well, there’s nothing to look at between friends.

“Fist, fist! - Chichikov thought to himself, “and a beast to boot!”

– Don’t you want a female?

- No, thank you.

- I would take it inexpensively. For dating, a ruble apiece.

- No, I don’t need the female gender.

- Well, when you don’t need it, there’s nothing to say. There is no law on tastes: who loves the priest, and who loves the priest, says the proverb.

“I also wanted to ask you to keep this deal between us,” Chichikov said, saying goodbye.

- Yes, it goes without saying. There is nothing to interfere with the third; What happens in sincerity between short friends must remain in their mutual friendship. Farewell! Thank you for visiting; Please don’t forget in the future: if you have a free hour, come and have lunch and spend some time. Maybe it will happen again to serve each other in some way.

“Yes, no matter how it is! - Chichikov thought to himself, getting into the chaise. “He tore two and a half rubles for a dead soul, damn fist!”

He was dissatisfied with Sobakevich's behavior. Still, be that as it may, the person is familiar, both the governor and the police chief met, but he acted as if he were a complete stranger, he took money for rubbish! When the chaise left the yard, he looked back and saw that Sobakevich was still standing on the porch and, it seemed, was looking closely, wanting to know where the guest would go.

- You scoundrel, he’s still standing! - he said through clenched teeth and ordered Selifan, turning towards the peasant huts, to drive away in such a way that the carriage could not be seen from the side of the master’s yard. He wanted to visit Plyushkin, who, according to Sobakevich, had people dying like flies, but he didn’t want Sobakevich to know about it. When the chaise was already at the end of the village, he called the first man to him, who, having found a very thick log somewhere on the road, dragged it on his shoulder, like a tireless ant, to his hut.

- Hey, beard! But how can we get from here to Plyushkin without passing the manor’s house?

The man seemed to be at a loss with this question.

- Well, you don’t know?

- No, master, I don’t know.

- Oh you! A and gray hair still shook! Don’t you know the miser Plyushkin, the one who feeds people poorly?

- A! patched, patched! – the man screamed.

He also added a noun to the word “patched”, which is very successful, but not common in social conversation, and therefore we will skip it. However, one can guess that it was expressed very aptly, because Chichikov, although the man had long since disappeared from sight and had traveled a lot ahead, was still grinning while sitting in the chaise. The Russian people express themselves strongly! and if he rewards someone with a word, then it will go to his family and posterity, he will drag it with him into service, and into retirement, and to Petersburg, and to the ends of the world. And no matter how cunning or ennobled your nickname is then, even if you force the writing people to derive it for a hire from the ancient princely family, nothing will help: the nickname will caw for itself at the top of its crow’s throat and say clearly where the bird flew from. What is accurately spoken is the same as what is written; it cannot be cut down with an axe. And how accurate is everything that came out of the depths of Rus', where there are no Germans, no Chukhons, or any other tribes, and everything is a nugget itself, a lively and lively Russian mind that does not reach into its pocket for a word, does not hatch it , like a mother hen chicks, but it sticks right away, like a passport on an eternal sock, and there is nothing to add later, what kind of nose or lips you have - you are outlined with one line from head to toe!

Just as a countless number of churches, monasteries with domes, domes, and crosses are scattered throughout holy, pious Rus', so a countless number of tribes, generations, and peoples crowd, motley, and rush about the face of the earth. And every nation, bearing within itself a guarantee of strength, full of the creative abilities of the soul, its bright features and other gifts of God, each in its own way distinguished itself with its own word, with which, expressing any object, it reflects part of its own character in its expression. The word of a Briton will echo with heart knowledge and wise knowledge of life; The short-lived word of a Frenchman will flash and spread like a light dandy; the German will intricately come up with his own, not accessible to everyone, clever and thin word; but there is no word that would be so sweeping, lively, would burst out from under the very heart, would seethe and vibrate so much, like a well-spoken Russian word.

Coramora– a large, long, sluggish mosquito; sometimes it flies into the room and sticks out somewhere alone on the wall. You can calmly approach him and grab his leg, in response to which he just sticks out or squirms, as people say. (Note by N.V. Gogol.)

Brick hut- “hewn, when logs are hewn into a smooth wall.” (From N.V. Gogol’s notebook.)

Gogol's work “Dead Souls” was written in the second half of the 19th century. The first volume was published in 1842, the second volume was almost completely destroyed by the author. And the third volume was never written. The plot of the work was suggested to Gogol. The poem tells about a middle-aged gentleman, Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov, traveling around Russia with the aim of buying so-called dead souls - peasants who are no longer alive, but who are still listed as alive according to documents. Gogol wanted to show all of Russia, the entire Russian soul in its breadth and immensity.

Gogol’s poem “Dead Souls” can be read in a chapter-by-chapter summary below. In the above version, the main characters are described, the most significant fragments are highlighted, with the help of which you can form a complete picture of the content of this poem. Reading Gogol’s “Dead Souls” online will be useful and relevant for 9th graders.

Main characters

Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov - main character poems, middle-aged collegiate adviser. He travels around Russia with the aim of buying up dead souls, knows how to find an approach to every person, which he constantly uses.

Other characters

Manilov- landowner, no longer young. In the first minute you think only pleasant things about him, and after that you no longer know what to think. He is not concerned about everyday difficulties; lives with his wife and two sons, Themistoclus and Alcides.

Box- an elderly woman, a widow. She lives in a small village, runs the household herself, sells food and fur. Stingy woman. She knew the names of all the peasants by heart and did not keep written records.

Sobakevich- a landowner, looking for profit in everything. With its massiveness and clumsiness it resembled a bear. He agrees to sell dead souls to Chichikov even before he even talks about it.

Nozdryov- a landowner who cannot sit at home for a day. He loves to party and play cards: hundreds of times he lost to smithereens, but still continued to play; He was always the hero of some story, and he himself was a master at telling tall tales. His wife died, leaving a child, but Nozdryov did not care about family matters at all.

Plyushkin- an unusual person appearance which is difficult to determine to which class he belongs. Chichikov at first mistook him for an old housekeeper. He lives alone, although his estate used to be full of life.

Selifan- coachman, Chichikov's servant. He drinks a lot, is often distracted from the road, and likes to think about the eternal.

Volume 1

Chapter 1

A carriage with an ordinary, unremarkable car enters the city of NN. He checked into a hotel, which, as often happens, was poor and dirty. The gentleman's luggage was carried in by Selifan (a short man in a sheepskin coat) and Petrushka (a young man about 30 years old). The traveler almost immediately went to the tavern to find out who occupied leadership positions in this city. At the same time, the gentleman tried not to talk about himself at all, nevertheless, everyone with whom the gentleman spoke was able to form the most pleasant description of him. Along with this, the author very often emphasizes the insignificance of the character.

During dinner, the guest finds out from the servant who is the chairman of the city, who is the governor, how many rich landowners are, the visitor did not miss a single detail.

Chichikov meets Manilov and the clumsy Sobakevich, whom he quickly managed to charm with his manners and ability to behave in public: he could always carry on a conversation on any topic, he was polite, attentive and courteous. People who knew him spoke only positively about Chichikov. At the card table he behaved like an aristocrat and a gentleman, even arguing in a particularly pleasant way, for example, “you deigned to go.”

Chichikov hastened to pay visits to all the officials of this city in order to win them over and show his respect.

Chapter 2

Chichikov had been living in the city for more than a week, spending his time carousing and feasting. He made many useful contacts and was a welcome guest at various receptions. While Chichikov was spending time at another dinner party, the author introduces the reader to his servants. Petrushka wore a wide frock coat from a lordly shoulder and had a large nose and lips. He was of a silent nature. He loved to read, but he liked the process of reading much more than the subject of reading. Parsley always carried “his special smell” with him, ignoring Chichikov’s requests to go to the bathhouse. The author did not describe the coachman Selifan, saying that he belonged to too low a class, and the reader prefers landowners and counts.

Chichikov went to the village to Manilov, which “could lure few with its location.” Although Manilov said that the village was only 15 versts from the city, Chichikov had to travel almost twice as far. At first glance, Manilov was a distinguished man, his facial features were pleasant, but too sweet. You won’t get a single living word from him; it was as if Manilov lived in an imaginary world. Manilov had nothing of his own, no peculiarity of his own. He spoke little, most often thinking about lofty matters. When a peasant or clerk asked the master about something, he answered: “Yes, not bad,” without caring about what would happen next.

In Manilov’s office there was a book that the master had been reading for the second year, and the bookmark, once left on page 14, remained in place. Not only Manilov, but also the house itself suffered from a lack of something special. It was as if something was always missing in the house: the furniture was expensive, and there wasn’t enough upholstery for two chairs; in the other room there was no furniture at all, but they were always going to put it there. The owner spoke touchingly and tenderly to his wife. She was a match for her husband - a typical girl's boarding school student. She was trained in French, dancing and playing the piano to please and entertain her husband. Often they spoke tenderly and reverently, like young lovers. One got the impression that the couple did not care about everyday trifles.

Chichikov and Manilov stood in the doorway for several minutes, letting each other go ahead: “do me a favor, don’t worry so much about me, I’ll pass later,” “don’t make it difficult, please don’t make it difficult. Please come in." As a result, both passed at the same time, sideways, touching each other. Chichikov agreed with Manilov in everything, who praised the governor, the police chief, and others.

Chichikov was surprised by Manilov's children, two sons six and eight years old, Themistoclus and Alcides. Manilov wanted to show off his children, but Chichikov did not notice any special talents in them. After lunch, Chichikov decided to talk with Manilov about one very important matter - about dead peasants who, according to documents, are still listed as alive - about dead souls. In order to “relieve Manilov of the need to pay taxes,” Chichikov asks Manilov to sell him documents for the now non-existent peasants. Manilov was somewhat discouraged, but Chichikov convinced the landowner of the legality of such a deal. Manilov decided to give away the “dead souls” for free, after which Chichikov hastily began to get ready to see Sobakevich, pleased with the successful acquisition.

Chapter 3

Chichikov went to Sobakevich in high spirits. Selifan, the coachman, was arguing with the horse, and, carried away by thoughts, stopped watching the road. The travelers got lost.
The chaise drove off-road for a long time until it hit a fence and overturned. Chichikov was forced to ask for overnight accommodation from the old woman, who let them in only after Chichikov told about his noble title.

The owner was an elderly woman. She can be called thrifty: there were a lot of old things in the house. The woman was dressed tastelessly, but with pretensions to elegance. The lady's name was Korobochka Nastasya Petrovna. She didn’t know any Manilov, from which Chichikov concluded that they had drifted into quite the wilderness.

Chichikov woke up late. His laundry was dried and washed by the fussy Korobochka worker. Pavel Ivanovich did not stand on ceremony with Korobochka, allowing himself to be rude. Nastasya Filippovna was a college secretary, her husband had died long ago, so the entire household was her responsibility. Chichikov did not miss the opportunity to inquire about dead souls. He had to persuade Korobochka for a long time, who was also bargaining. Korobochka knew all the peasants by name, so she did not keep written records.

Chichikov was tired from a long conversation with the hostess, and was rather glad not that he received less than twenty souls from her, but that this dialogue was over. Nastasya Filippovna, delighted with the sale, decided to sell Chichikov flour, lard, straw, fluff and honey. To appease the guest, she ordered the maid to bake pancakes and pies, which Chichikov ate with pleasure, but politely refused other purchases.

Nastasya Filippovna sent a little girl with Chichikov to show the way. The chaise had already been repaired and Chichikov moved on.

Chapter 4

The chaise drove up to the tavern. The author admits that Chichikov had an excellent appetite: the hero ordered chicken, veal and pig with sour cream and horseradish. At the tavern, Chichikov asked about the owner, his sons, their wives, and at the same time found out where each landowner lived. At the tavern, Chichikov met Nozdryov, with whom he had previously dined with the prosecutor. Nozdryov was cheerful and drunk: he had lost at cards again. Nozdryov laughed at Chichikov’s plans to go to Sobakevich, persuading Pavel Ivanovich to come and visit him first. Nozdryov was sociable, the life of the party, a carouser and a talker. His wife died early, leaving two children, whom Nozdryov was absolutely not involved in raising. He could not sit at home for more than a day; his soul demanded feasts and adventures. Nozdryov had an amazing attitude towards dating: the closer he got to a person, the more fables he told. At the same time, Nozdryov managed not to quarrel with anyone after that.

Nozdryov loved dogs very much and even kept a wolf. The landowner boasted so much about his possessions that Chichikov was tired of inspecting them, although Nozdryov even attributed a forest to his lands, which could not possibly be his property. At the table, Nozdryov poured wine for the guests, but added little for himself. In addition to Chichikov, Nozdryov’s son-in-law was visiting, with whom Pavel Ivanovich did not dare talk about the true motives of his visit. However, the son-in-law soon got ready to go home, and Chichikov was finally able to ask Nozdryov about dead souls.

He asked Nozdryov to transfer the dead souls to himself without revealing his true motives, but this only intensified Nozdryov’s interest. Chichikov is forced to come up with various stories: supposedly dead souls are needed to gain weight in society or to get married successfully, but Nozdryov senses the falsehood, so he allows himself to make rude statements about Chichikov. Nozdryov invites Pavel Ivanovich to buy from him a stallion, mare or dog, complete with which he will give away his souls. Nozdryov didn’t want to give away dead souls just like that.

The next morning, Nozdryov behaved as if nothing had happened, inviting Chichikov to play checkers. If Chichikov wins, then Nozdryov will transfer all the dead souls to him. Both played dishonestly, Chichikov was greatly exhausted by the game, but the police officer unexpectedly came to Nozdryov, informing him that from now on Nozdryov was on trial for beating a landowner. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Chichikov hastened to leave Nozdryov’s estate.

Chapter 5

Chichikov was glad that he left Nozdryov empty-handed. Chichikov was distracted from his thoughts by an accident: a horse harnessed to Pavel Ivanovich’s chaise got mixed up with a horse from another harness. Chichikov was fascinated by the girl who was sitting in another cart. He thought about the beautiful stranger for a long time.

Sobakevich's village seemed huge to Chichikov: gardens, stables, barns, peasant houses. Everything seemed to be made to last. Sobakevich himself seemed to Chichikov to look like a bear. Everything about Sobakevich was massive and clumsy. Each item was ridiculous, as if it said: “I, too, look like Sobakevich.” Sobakevich spoke disrespectfully and rudely about other people. From him Chichikov learned about Plyushkin, whose peasants were dying like flies.

Sobakevich reacted calmly to the offer of dead souls, even offering to sell them before Chichikov himself spoke about it. The landowner behaved strangely, raising the price, praising the already dead peasants. Chichikov was dissatisfied with the deal with Sobakevich. It seemed to Pavel Ivanovich that it was not he who was trying to deceive the landowner, but Sobakevich.
Chichikov went to Plyushkin.

Chapter 6

Lost in his thoughts, Chichikov did not notice that he had entered the village. In the village of Plyushkina, the windows in the houses were without glass, the bread was damp and moldy, the gardens were abandoned. The results of human labor were nowhere to be seen. Near Plyushkin’s house there were many buildings overgrown with green mold.

Chichikov was met by the housekeeper. The master was not at home, the housekeeper invited Chichikov to his chambers. There were a lot of things piled up in the rooms, it was impossible to understand in the heaps what exactly was there, everything was covered in dust. From the appearance of the room it cannot be said that a living person lived here.

A bent man, unshaven, in a washed-out robe entered the chambers. The face was nothing special. If Chichikov met this man on the street, he would give him alms.

This man turned out to be the landowner himself. There was a time when Plyushkin was a thrifty owner, and his house was full of life. Now strong feelings were not reflected in the old man’s eyes, but his forehead betrayed his remarkable intelligence. Plyushkin's wife died, his daughter ran away with a military man, his son went to the city, and his youngest daughter died. The house became empty. Guests rarely visited Plyushkin, and Plyushkin did not want to see his runaway daughter, who sometimes asked her father for money. The landowner himself started a conversation about the dead peasants, because he was glad to get rid of dead souls, although after a while suspicion appeared in his gaze.

Chichikov refused treats, impressed by the dirty dishes. Plyushkin decided to bargain, manipulating his plight. Chichikov bought 78 souls from him, forcing Plyushkin to write a receipt. After the deal, Chichikov, as before, hurried to leave. Plyushkin locked the gate behind the guest, walked around his property, storerooms and kitchen, and then thought about how to thank Chichikov.

Chapter 7

Chichikov had already acquired 400 souls, so he wanted to quickly finish his business in this city. He examined and put everything in order Required documents. All the peasants of Korobochka were distinguished by strange nicknames, Chichikov was dissatisfied that their names took up a lot of space on paper, Plyushkin’s note was brevity, Sobakevich’s notes were complete and detailed. Chichikov thought about how each person passed away, making guesses in his imagination and playing out entire scenarios.

Chichikov went to court to have all the documents certified, but there they made him understand that without a bribe things would take a long time, and Chichikov would still have to stay in the city for a while. Sobakevich, who accompanied Chichikov, convinced the chairman of the legality of the transaction, Chichikov said that he had bought the peasants for removal to the Kherson province.

The police chief, officials and Chichikov decided to complete the paperwork with lunch and a game of whist. Chichikov was cheerful and told everyone about his lands near Kherson.

Chapter 8

The whole city is gossiping about Chichikov’s purchases: why does Chichikov need peasants? Did the landowners really sell so many good peasants to the newcomer, and not thieves and drunkards? Will the peasants change in the new land?
The more rumors there were about Chichikov's wealth, the more they loved him. The ladies of the city of NN considered Chichikov a very attractive person. In general, the ladies of the city of N themselves were presentable, dressed with taste, were strict in their morals, and all their intrigues remained secret.

Chichikov found an anonymous love letter, which interested him incredibly. At the reception, Pavel Ivanovich could not understand which of the girls wrote to him. The traveler was a success with the ladies, but he was so carried away by small talk that he forgot to approach the hostess. The governor's wife was at the reception with her daughter, whose beauty Chichikov was captivated - not a single lady interested Chichikov anymore.

At the reception, Chichikov met Nozdryov, who, with his cheeky behavior and drunken conversations, put Chichikov in an uncomfortable position, so Chichikov was forced to leave the reception.

Chapter 9

The author introduces the reader to two ladies, friends who met early in the morning. They talked about women's little things. Alla Grigorievna was partly a materialist, prone to denial and doubt. The ladies were gossiping about the newcomer. Sofya Ivanovna, the second woman, is unhappy with Chichikov because he flirted with many ladies, and Korobochka completely let slip about dead souls, adding to her story the story of how Chichikov deceived her by throwing 15 rubles in banknotes. Alla Grigorievna suggested that, thanks to the dead souls, Chichikov wants to impress the governor’s daughter in order to steal her from her father’s house. The ladies listed Nozdryov as Chichikov’s accomplice.

The city was buzzing: the question of dead souls worried everyone. The ladies discussed more the story of the kidnapping of the girl, supplementing it with all imaginable and inconceivable details, and the men discussed the economic side of the issue. All this led to the fact that Chichikov was not allowed on the threshold and was no longer invited to dinners. As luck would have it, Chichikov was at the hotel all this time because he was unlucky enough to get sick.

Meanwhile, the city residents, in their assumptions, went so far as to tell the prosecutor everything.

Chapter 10

Residents of the city gathered at the police chief. Everyone was wondering who Chichikov was, where he came from and whether he was hiding from the law. The postmaster tells the story of Captain Kopeikin.

In this chapter, the story about Captain Kopeikin is included in the text of Dead Souls.

Captain Kopeikin had his arm and leg torn off during a military campaign in the 1920s. Kopeikin decided to ask the Tsar for help. The man was amazed by the beauty of St. Petersburg and the high prices for food and housing. Kopeikin waited to receive the general for about 4 hours, but he was asked to come later. The audience between Kopeikin and the governor was postponed several times, Kopeikin’s faith in justice and the tsar became less and less each time. The man was running out of money for food, and the capital became disgusting due to pathos and spiritual emptiness. Captain Kopeikin decided to sneak into the general’s reception room to definitely get an answer to his question. He decided to stand there until the sovereign looked at him. The general instructed the courier to deliver Kopeikin to a new place, where he would be completely in the care of the state. Kopeikin, overjoyed, went with the courier, but no one else saw Kopeikin.

All those present admitted that Chichikov could not possibly be Captain Kopeikin, because Chichikov had all his limbs in place. Nozdryov told many different fables and, getting carried away, said that he personally came up with a plan to kidnap the governor’s daughter.

Nozdryov went to visit Chichikov, who was still ill. The landowner told Pavel Ivanovich about the situation in the city and the rumors that were circulating about Chichikov.

Chapter 11

In the morning, everything did not go according to plan: Chichikov woke up later than planned, the horses were not shod, the wheel was faulty. After a while everything was ready.

On the way, Chichikov met a funeral procession - the prosecutor died. Next, the reader learns about Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov himself. The parents were nobles who had only one serf family. One day, his father took little Pavel with him to the city to send his child to school. The father ordered his son to listen to teachers and please bosses, not to make friends, and to save money. At school, Chichikov was distinguished by his diligence. Since childhood, he understood how to increase money: he sold pies from the market to hungry classmates, trained a mouse to perform magic tricks for a fee, and sculpted wax figures.

Chichikov was at good standing. After some time, he moved his family to the city. Chichikov was attracted by a rich life, he actively tried to make his way into the people, but with difficulty he got into the government chamber. Chichikov did not hesitate to use people for his own purposes; he was not ashamed of such an attitude. After an incident with one old official, whose daughter Chichikov even planned to marry in order to get a position, Chichikov’s career took off sharply. And that official talked for a long time about how Pavel Ivanovich deceived him.

He served in many departments, cheated and cheated everywhere, launched an entire campaign against corruption, although he himself was a bribe-taker. Chichikov began construction, but several years later the declared house was never built, but those who supervised the construction got new buildings. Chichikov became involved in smuggling, for which he was put on trial.

He started his career again from the bottom rung. He was engaged in transferring documents for peasants to the guardianship council, where he was paid for each peasant. But one day Pavel Ivanovich was informed that even if the peasants died, but were listed as alive according to the records, the money would still be paid. So Chichikov came up with the idea of ​​​​buying peasants who were dead in fact, but alive according to documents, in order to sell their souls to the guardianship council.

Volume 2

The chapter begins with a description of the nature and lands belonging to Andrei Tentetnikov, a 33-year-old gentleman who wastes his time thoughtlessly: he woke up late, took a long time to wash his face, “he was not bad person, - he’s just a smoker of the sky.” After a series of unsuccessful reforms aimed at improving the lives of peasants, he stopped communicating with others, completely gave up, and became mired in the same infinity of everyday life.

Chichikov comes to Tentetnikov and, using his ability to find an approach to any person, stays with Andrei Ivanovich for some time. Chichikov was now more careful and delicate when it came to dead souls. Chichikov hasn’t talked about this with Tentetnikov yet, but with conversations about marriage he has revived Andrei Ivanovich a little.

Chichikov goes to General Betrishchev, a man of majestic appearance, who combined many advantages and many shortcomings. Betrishchev introduces Chichikov to his daughter Ulenka, with whom Tentetnikov is in love. Chichikov joked a lot, which was how he was able to win the favor of the general. Taking this opportunity, Chichikov makes up a story about an old uncle who is obsessed with dead souls, but the general does not believe him, considering it another joke. Chichikov is in a hurry to leave.

Pavel Ivanovich goes to Colonel Koshkarev, but ends up with Pyotr Rooster, whom he finds completely naked while hunting for sturgeon. Having learned that the estate was mortgaged, Chichikov wanted to leave, but here he meets the landowner Platonov, who talks about ways to increase wealth, which Chichikov is inspired by.

Colonel Koshkarev, who divided his lands into plots and manufactories, also had nothing to profit from, so Chichikov, accompanied by Platonov and Konstanzhoglo, goes to Kholobuev, who sells his estate for next to nothing. Chichikov gives a deposit for the estate, borrowing the amount from Konstanzhglo and Platonov. In the house, Pavel Ivanovich expected to see empty rooms, but “he was struck by the mixture of poverty with the shiny trinkets of later luxury.” Chichikov receives dead souls from his neighbor Lenitsyn, charming him with his ability to tickle a child. The story ends.

It can be assumed that some time has passed since the purchase of the estate. Chichikov comes to the fair to buy fabric for a new suit. Chichikov meets Kholobuev. He is dissatisfied with Chichikov’s deception, because of which he almost lost his inheritance. Denunciations are discovered against Chichikov regarding the deception of Kholobuev and dead souls. Chichikov is arrested.

Murazov, a recent acquaintance of Pavel Ivanovich, a tax farmer who fraudulently made himself a million-dollar fortune, finds Pavel Ivanovich in the basement. Chichikov tears out his hair and mourns the loss of the box with securities: Chichikov was not allowed to dispose of many personal belongings, including the box, which contained enough money to give bail for himself. Murazov motivates Chichikov to live honestly, not break the law and not deceive people. It seems that his words were able to touch certain strings in Pavel Ivanovich’s soul. Officials hoping to receive a bribe from Chichikov are confusing the matter. Chichikov leaves the city.
 

Conclusion

“Dead Souls” shows a broad and truthful picture of life in Russia in the second half of the 19th century century. Along with beautiful nature, picturesque villages in which the originality of the Russian people is felt, greed, stinginess and the never-vanishing desire for profit are shown against the backdrop of space and freedom. The arbitrariness of landowners, poverty and lack of rights of peasants, a hedonistic understanding of life, bureaucracy and irresponsibility - all this is depicted in the text of the work, as in a mirror. Meanwhile, Gogol believes in a bright future, because it is not for nothing that the second volume was conceived as “the moral cleansing of Chichikov.” It is in this work that Gogol’s manner of reflecting reality is most clearly noticeable.

You have only read a brief retelling of “Dead Souls”; for a more complete understanding of the work, we recommend that you read the full version.

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The proposed history, as will become clear from what follows, took place somewhat shortly after the “glorious expulsion of the French.” Collegiate adviser Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov arrives in the provincial town of NN (he is neither old nor too young, neither fat nor thin, rather pleasant in appearance and somewhat round) and checks into a hotel. He makes a lot of questions to the tavern servant - both regarding the owner and income of the tavern, and also exposing his thoroughness: about city officials, the most significant landowners, asks about the state of the region and whether there were “any diseases in their province, epidemic fevers” and other similar things misfortunes.

Having gone on a visit, the visitor reveals extraordinary activity (having visited everyone, from the governor to the inspector of the medical board) and courtesy, for he knows how to say something nice to everyone. He speaks somewhat vaguely about himself (that he “has experienced a lot in his life, endured in the service for the truth, had many enemies who even attempted on his life,” and is now looking for a place to live). At the governor's house party, he manages to gain everyone's favor and, among other things, make acquaintance with the landowners Manilov and Sobakevich. In the following days, he dines with the police chief (where he meets the landowner Nozdryov), visits the chairman of the chamber and the vice-governor, the tax farmer and the prosecutor, and goes to Manilov’s estate (which, however, is preceded by a fair author’s digression, where, justifying himself with a love of thoroughness, the author attests in detail to Petrushka, the newcomer’s servant: his passion for “the process of reading itself” and the ability to carry with him a special smell, “resembling a somewhat residential peace”).

Having traveled, contrary to the promise, not fifteen, but all thirty miles, Chichikov finds himself in Manilovka, in the arms of a kind owner. Manilov’s house, standing on the south, surrounded by several scattered English flower beds and a gazebo with the inscription “Temple of Solitary Reflection,” could characterize the owner, who was “neither this nor that,” not burdened by any passions, just overly cloying. After Manilov’s confession that Chichikov’s visit is “a May day, the name day of the heart,” and dinner in the company of the hostess and two sons, Themistoclus and Alcides, Chichikov discovers the reason for his visit: he would like to acquire peasants who have died, but have not yet been declared as such in the audit certificate, registering everything in a legal manner, as if for the living (“the law - I am dumb before the law”). The first fear and bewilderment are replaced by the perfect disposition of the kind owner, and, having completed the deal, Chichikov leaves for Sobakevich, and Manilov indulges in dreams about Chichikov’s life in the neighborhood across the river, about the construction of a bridge, about a house with such a gazebo that Moscow can be seen from there, and about their friendship, if the sovereign had known about it, he would have granted them generals. Chichikov's coachman Selifan, much favored by Manilov's servants, in conversations with his horses misses the necessary turn and, with the sound of a downpour, knocks the master over into the mud. In the darkness, they find accommodation for the night with Nastasya Petrovna Korobochka, a somewhat timid landowner, with whom in the morning Chichikov also begins to sell dead souls. Having explained that he himself would now pay the tax for them, cursing the old woman’s stupidity, promising to buy both hemp and lard, but another time, Chichikov buys souls from her for fifteen rubles, receives a detailed list of them (in which Pyotr Savelyev is especially amazed by Disrespect -Trough) and, having eaten unleavened egg pie, pancakes, pies and other things, departs, leaving the hostess in great concern as to whether she has sold too cheap.

Having reached the main road to the tavern, Chichikov stops to have a snack, which the author provides with a lengthy discussion about the properties of the appetite of middle-class gentlemen. Here Nozdryov meets him, returning from the fair in the chaise of his son-in-law Mizhuev, for he had lost everything on his horses and even his watch chain. Describing the delights of the fair, the drinking qualities of the dragoon officers, a certain Kuvshinnikov, a big fan of “taking advantage of strawberries” and, finally, presenting a puppy, “a real little face,” Nozdryov takes Chichikov (thinking of making money here too) to his home, taking his reluctant son-in-law as well. Having described Nozdryov, “in some respects a historical man” (for everywhere he went, there was history), his possessions, the unpretentiousness of the dinner with an abundance of, however, drinks of dubious quality, the author sends his dazed son-in-law to his wife (Nozdryov admonishes him with abuse and words “fetyuk”), and Chichikov is forced to turn to his subject; but he fails to either beg or buy souls: Nozdryov offers to exchange them, take them in addition to the stallion, or make them a bet in card game, finally scolds, quarrels, and they part for the night. In the morning, the persuasion resumes, and, having agreed to play checkers, Chichikov notices that Nozdryov is shamelessly cheating. Chichikov, whom the owner and the servants are already attempting to beat, manages to escape due to the appearance of the police captain, who announces that Nozdryov is on trial. On the road, Chichikov’s carriage collides with a certain carriage, and while onlookers come running to separate the tangled horses, Chichikov admires the sixteen-year-old young lady, indulges in speculation about her and dreams of family life. A visit to Sobakevich in his strong estate, like himself, is accompanied by a thorough dinner, a discussion of city officials, who, according to the owner, are all swindlers (one prosecutor is a decent person, “and even that one, to tell the truth, is a pig”), and is married to the guest of interest deal. Not at all frightened by the strangeness of the object, Sobakevich bargains, characterizes the advantageous qualities of each serf, provides Chichikov with a detailed list and forces him to give a deposit.

Chichikov’s path to the neighboring landowner Plyushkin, mentioned by Sobakevich, is interrupted by a conversation with the man who gave Plyushkin an apt, but not very printed nickname, and the author’s lyrical reflection on his former love for unfamiliar places and the indifference that has now appeared. Chichikov at first takes Plyushkin, this “hole in humanity,” for a housekeeper or a beggar whose place is on the porch. His most important feature is his amazing stinginess, and he even carries the old sole of his boot into a pile piled up in the master's chambers. Having shown the profitability of his proposal (namely, that he will take on the taxes for the dead and runaway peasants), Chichikov is completely successful in his enterprise and, having refused tea with crackers, equipped with a letter to the chairman of the chamber, departs in the most cheerful mood.

While Chichikov sleeps in the hotel, the author sadly reflects on the baseness of the objects he depicts. Meanwhile, a satisfied Chichikov, having woken up, composes deeds of sale, studies the lists of acquired peasants, reflects on their expected fates and finally goes to the civil chamber in order to quickly conclude the deal. Met at the hotel gate, Manilov accompanies him. Then follows a description of the official place, Chichikov’s first ordeals and a bribe to a certain jug snout, until he enters the chairman’s apartment, where, by the way, he finds Sobakevich. The chairman agrees to be Plyushkin’s attorney, and at the same time speeds up other transactions. The acquisition of Chichikov is discussed, with land or for withdrawal he bought peasants and in what places. Having found out that the conclusion and to the Kherson province, having discussed the properties of the sold men (here the chairman remembered that the coachman Mikheev seemed to have died, but Sobakevich assured that he was still alive and “became healthier than before”), they finished with champagne and went to the police chief, “father and to a benefactor in the city" (whose habits are immediately outlined), where they drink to the health of the new Kherson landowner, become completely excited, force Chichikov to stay and attempt to marry him.

Chichikov's purchases create a sensation in the city, rumors spread that he is a millionaire. The ladies are crazy about him. Several times approaching to describe the ladies, the author becomes timid and retreats. On the eve of the ball, Chichikov even receives a love letter from the governor, although unsigned. Having, as usual, spent a lot of time on the toilet and being satisfied with the result, Chichikov goes to the ball, where he passes from one embrace to another. The ladies, among whom he is trying to find the sender of the letter, even quarrel, challenging his attention. But when the governor’s wife approaches him, he forgets everything, for she is accompanied by her daughter (“Institute, just released”), a sixteen-year-old blonde whose carriage he encountered on the road. He loses the favor of the ladies because he starts a conversation with a fascinating blonde, scandalously neglecting the others. To top off the troubles, Nozdryov appears and loudly asks how many dead people Chichikov has traded. And although Nozdryov is obviously drunk and the embarrassed society is gradually distracted, Chichikov does not enjoy either whist or the subsequent dinner, and he leaves upset.

About this time, a carriage enters the city with the landowner Korobochka, whose growing anxiety forced her to come in order to find out what the price of dead souls is. The next morning, this news becomes the property of a certain pleasant lady, and she hurries to tell it to another, pleasant in all respects, the story acquires amazing details (Chichikov, armed to the teeth, bursts into Korobochka in the dead of midnight, demands the souls that have died, instills terrible fear - “ the whole village came running, the children were crying, everyone was screaming"). Her friend concludes that the dead souls are just a cover, and Chichikov wants to take away the governor’s daughter. Having discussed the details of this enterprise, Nozdryov’s undoubted participation in it and the qualities of the governor’s daughter, both ladies let the prosecutor know everything and set off to riot the city.

In a short time, the city is seething, adding news about the appointment of a new governor-general, as well as information about the papers received: about a counterfeit banknote maker who showed up in the province, and about a robber who fled from legal prosecution. Trying to understand who Chichikov was, they remember that he was certified very vaguely and even spoke about those who attempted to kill him. The postmaster's statement that Chichikov, in his opinion, is Captain Kopeikin, who took up arms against the injustices of the world and became a robber, is rejected, since from the postmaster's entertaining story it follows that the captain is missing an arm and a leg, but Chichikov is whole. The assumption arises whether Chichikov is Napoleon in disguise, and many begin to find a certain resemblance, especially in profile. Questions of Korobochka, Manilov and Sobakevich do not produce results, and Nozdryov only increases the confusion by declaring that Chichikov is definitely a spy, a maker of false banknotes and had an undoubted intention to take away the governor’s daughter, in which Nozdryov undertook to help him (each of the versions was accompanied by detailed details right down to the name the priest who took up the wedding). All this talk has an enormous effect on the prosecutor; he suffers a blow and dies.

Chichikov himself, sitting in a hotel with a slight cold, is surprised that none of the officials visit him. Having finally gone on a visit, he discovers that the governor does not receive him, and in other places they fearfully shun him. Nozdryov, having visited him at the hotel, amid the general noise he made, partly clarifies the situation, announcing that he agrees to facilitate the kidnapping of the governor’s daughter. The next day, Chichikov hurriedly leaves, but is stopped by the funeral procession and forced to contemplate the whole light of officialdom flowing behind the coffin of the prosecutor. The brichka leaves the city, and the open spaces on both sides bring to the author sad and joyful thoughts about Russia, the road, and then only sad ones about his chosen hero. Having concluded that it is time to give the virtuous hero a rest, but, on the contrary, to hide the scoundrel, the author sets out the life story of Pavel Ivanovich, his childhood, training in classes, where he had already shown a practical mind, his relationships with his comrades and the teacher, his later service in the government chamber, some commission for the construction of a state building, where for the first time he gave vent to some of his weaknesses, his subsequent departure to other, not so profitable places, transfer to the customs service, where, showing honesty and integrity almost unnatural, he made a lot of money in an agreement with smugglers, he went bankrupt, but dodged a criminal trial, although he was forced to resign. He became an attorney and, during the troubles of pledging the peasants, he formed a plan in his head, began to travel around the expanses of Rus', so that, by buying up dead souls and pawning them in the treasury as if they were alive, he would receive money, perhaps buy a village and provide for future offspring.

Having again complained about the properties of his hero’s nature and partly justified him, having found him the name of “owner, acquirer,” the author is distracted by the urged running of horses, by the similarity of the flying troika with rushing Russia and ends the first volume with the ringing of a bell.

Volume two

It opens with a description of the nature that makes up the estate of Andrei Ivanovich Tentetnikov, whom the author calls “the smoker of the sky.” The story of the stupidity of his pastime is followed by the story of a life inspired by hopes at the very beginning, overshadowed by the pettiness of his service and troubles later; he retires, intending to improve the estate, reads books, takes care of the man, but without experience, sometimes just human, this does not give the expected results, the man is idle, Tentetnikov gives up. He breaks off acquaintances with his neighbors, offended by General Betrishchev’s address, and stops visiting him, although he cannot forget his daughter Ulinka. In a word, without someone who would tell him an invigorating “go ahead!”, he completely turns sour.

Chichikov comes to him, apologizing for a breakdown in the carriage, curiosity and a desire to pay respects. Having won the favor of the owner with his amazing ability to adapt to anyone, Chichikov, having lived with him for a while, goes to the general, to whom he weaves a story about a quarrelsome uncle and, as usual, begs for the dead. The poem fails at the laughing general, and we find Chichikov heading to Colonel Koshkarev. Contrary to expectations, he ends up with Pyotr Petrovich Rooster, whom he finds at first completely naked, keen on hunting sturgeon. At Rooster's, not having anything to get hold of, for the estate is mortgaged, he only overeats terribly, meets the bored landowner Platonov and, having encouraged him to travel together across Rus', goes to Konstantin Fedorovich Kostanzhoglo, married to Platonov's sister. He talks about the methods of management with which he increased the income from the estate tenfold, and Chichikov is terribly inspired.

Very quickly he visits Colonel Koshkarev, who has divided his village into committees, expeditions and departments and has organized a perfect paper production in the mortgaged estate, as it turns out. Having returned, he listens to the curses of the bilious Kostanzhoglo against the factories and manufactories that corrupt the peasant, the peasant’s absurd desire to educate, and his neighbor Khlobuev, who has neglected a sizable estate and is now selling it for next to nothing. Having experienced tenderness and even a craving for honest work, having listened to the story of the tax farmer Murazov, who made forty million in an impeccable way, Chichikov the next day, accompanied by Kostanzhoglo and Platonov, goes to Khlobuev, observes the unrest and dissipation of his household in the neighborhood of a governess for children, dressed in fashion wife and other traces of absurd luxury. Having borrowed money from Kostanzhoglo and Platonov, he gives a deposit for the estate, intending to buy it, and goes to Platonov’s estate, where he meets his brother Vasily, who efficiently manages the estate. Then he suddenly appears at their neighbor Lenitsyn, clearly a rogue, wins his sympathy with his ability to skillfully tickle a child and receives dead souls.

After many seizures in the manuscript, Chichikov is found already in the city at a fair, where he buys fabric that is so dear to him, the lingonberry color with a sparkle. He runs into Khlobuev, whom, apparently, he spoiled, either depriving him, or almost depriving him of his inheritance through some kind of forgery. Khlobuev, who let him go, is taken away by Murazov, who convinces Khlobuev of the need to work and orders him to collect funds for the church. Meanwhile, denunciations against Chichikov are discovered both about the forgery and about dead souls. The tailor brings a new tailcoat. Suddenly a gendarme appears, dragging the smartly dressed Chichikov to the Governor-General, “angry as anger itself.” Here all his atrocities become clear, and he, kissing the general’s boot, is thrown into prison. In a dark closet, Murazov finds Chichikov, tearing his hair and tails of his coat, mourning the loss of a box of papers, with simple virtuous words awakens in him a desire to live honestly and sets off to soften the Governor-General. At that time, officials who want to spoil their wise superiors and get a bribe from Chichikov, deliver a box to him, kidnap an important witness and write many denunciations in order to completely confuse the matter. Unrest breaks out in the province itself, greatly worrying the Governor-General. However, Murazov knows how to feel the sensitive strings of his soul and give him the right advice, which the Governor-General, having released Chichikov, is about to use when “the manuscript breaks off.”

Through Selifan's fault, Chichikov's chaise collides with someone else's chaise, in which two ladies are sitting - an elderly woman and a sixteen-year-old beauty. The men gathered from the village separate the horses and raise the chaises. Chichikov is fascinated by the young stranger and after the chaises leave, he thinks for a long time about the unexpected meeting. Chichikov drives up to the village of Mikhail Semenovich Sobakevich.

“A wooden house with a mezzanine, a red roof and dark gray or, better yet, wild walls, a house like the ones we build for military settlements and German colonists. It was noticeable that during its construction the architect constantly struggled with the taste of the owner. The architect... He wanted symmetry, the owner of convenience and, apparently, as a result of this, he boarded up all the corresponding windows on one side and screwed in their place one small one, probably needed for a dark closet... The yard was surrounded by a strong and excessively thick wooden lattice. The landowner seemed to be concerned a lot about strength. For the stables, barns and kitchens, full-weight and thick logs were used, determined to stand for centuries. The village huts of the peasants were also cut down in a marvelous way... Everything was fitted tightly and properly. Even the well was lined with the kind of strong oak that is used only for mills and ships. In a word, everything... It was stubborn, without shaking, in some kind of strong and clumsy order.” The owner himself seems to Chichikov “very similar to a medium-sized bear. The tailcoat he was wearing was completely bear-colored... He walked with his feet this way and that, constantly stepping on other people's feet. The complexion had a red-hot, hot complexion, like what happens on a copper coin.” A pleasant conversation does not develop: Sobakevich speaks straightforwardly about all officials (“the governor is the first robber in the world,” “the police chief is a fraud,” “there is only one decent person: the prosecutor, and even that, to tell the truth, is a pig”). The owner escorts Chichikov to a room in which “everything was solid, clumsy to the highest degree and bore some strange resemblance to the owner of the house himself; in the corner of the living room stood a pot-bellied walnut bureau on absurd four legs: a perfect bear... Every object, every chair seemed to say: “And I, too, are Sobakevich!” or: “And I also look very much like Sobakevich!” A hearty lunch is served. Sobakevich himself eats a lot (half a side of lamb with porridge in one sitting, “cheesecakes, each of which was much larger than a plate, then a turkey the size of a calf, stuffed with all sorts of goodness: eggs, rice, livers and who knows what... When they got up from -at the table, Chichikov felt a whole pound more heavy in himself”). Over dinner, Sobakevich talks about his neighbor Plyushkin, who owns eight hundred peasants and is an extremely stingy man. Hearing that Chichikov wants to buy dead souls, Sobakevich is not at all surprised, but immediately begins to bargain. Sobakevich promises to sell dead souls for 100 rubles apiece, citing the fact that his peasants are real craftsmen (carriage maker Mikheev, carpenter Stepan Probka, shoemaker Maxim Telyatnikov). The bargaining continues for a long time. In his hearts, Chichikov silently calls Sobakevich “fist”, and says out loud that the qualities of the peasants are not important, since they are dead. Not agreeing with Chichikov on the price and fully understanding that the deal is not entirely legal, Sobakevich hints that “this kind of purchase, I say this between us, out of friendship, is not always permissible, and tell me - I or someone else - such a person will not no power of attorney...” Ultimately, the parties agree on three rubles apiece, draw up a document, and each is afraid of being cheated by the other. Sobakevich offers Chichikov to buy a “female” at a cheap price, but the guest refuses (although he will later discover that Sobakevich nevertheless included a woman, Elizaveta Vorobei, in the deed of sale). Chichikov leaves and asks a peasant in the village how to get to Plyushkin’s estate (Plyushkin’s nickname among the peasants is “patched”). The chapter ends with a lyrical digression about the Russian language. “The Russian people are expressing themselves strongly! And if he rewards someone with a word, then it will go to his family and posterity... And then no matter how cunning and ennoble your nickname, even force the writing people to derive it from the ancient princely family for a rent, nothing will help... Like countless many churches, monasteries with domes, domes, crosses are scattered in holy, pious Rus', so a countless number of tribes, generations, peoples crowd, motley and rush about the face of the earth... The word of the British will respond with heart knowledge and wise knowledge of life; The short-lived word of a Frenchman will flash and spread like a light dandy; the German will intricately come up with his own, not accessible to everyone, clever and thin word; but there is no word that would be so sweeping, lively, would burst out from under the very heart, would boil and vibrate so much, like an aptly spoken Russian word.”