The book “The Thirteenth Feat of Hercules. Thirteenth feat of hercules 13 feat of hercules main characters

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The mathematician Kharlampy Diogenovich was noticeably different from his sloppy colleagues. With his appearance, strict discipline was established in the class. It was so quiet in the classroom that the headmaster could not believe that the students were in their places, and not in the stadium. Silence reigned as soon as the teacher entered the classroom, and lasted until the end of the lesson. Laughter was sometimes heard. Kharlampy Diogenovich allowed himself to joke, and the guys have fun laughing. For example, he could show the greatest respect to a late student by making way for him to class and naming him after him the Prince of Wales. The teacher never swore, did not call parents to school. The guys did not write off the tests, because they knew that Kharlampy Diogenovich would immediately recognize such a work and would ridicule the negligent student. The storyteller did not escape the fate of being funny in front of the whole class.

Once he could not solve the problem in any way. Without completing his homework, he went to school. Making sure that the other guys didn’t agree with the answer either, the boy ran to play football. Before the very beginning of the lesson, he learned that the excellent student Sakharov coped with the task. And the neighbor on the desk, Adolf Komarov, also solved the problem. The narrator froze, expecting to be asked specifically. A doctor and a nurse came into the classroom. They were looking for a fifth "A" grade to vaccinate. The boy, out of fear, volunteered to show where the classroom was and the teacher gave him permission. On the way, he learns that their class is planned to be vaccinated in the next lesson and informs the doctors that the class will go to the museum. Running into the classroom in front of the doctor, the narrator saw that Shurik Avdeenko was solving the problem at the blackboard, but he could not explain the solution. The teacher sent him to the place, and praised Adolf for the solved problem.

The doctors, returning, said that the children needed to be vaccinated and the teacher allowed them to take the lesson. Avdeenko was the first to be called in for the vaccination. He did it without fear, because the vaccine saved him from a possible deuce. Adolf Komarov was pale. The deskmate consoled him, but it didn’t work. The injection made Alik even paler, and the doctor had to give him ammonia. The narrator was proud in front of Alik that he did not feel the prick, although this was not true. The medics left.

There was little time left until the end of the lesson. Harlampy Diogenovich, lost in thought, began a story about the twelve exploits of Hercules and about a certain young man who, with his thirteenth exploit, decided to correct Greek mythology. The teacher said that this feat was accomplished out of cowardice, and for what it was done, he asked the narrator to explain, calling him to the blackboard. Kharlampy Diogenovich asked the boy to tell how he solved the home problem. The student tried to play for time, but he looked more and more ridiculous and ridiculous. Since then, the boy has become more serious about his homework. Reasoning, he came to the conclusion that the worst thing is that a person ceases to be afraid of being funny. This can bring misfortune on him. The arrogant Roman emperors did not see in time how ridiculous they really are, which is why the great empire perished.

Fazil Abdulovich Iskander, in his work, often talks about philosophical questions that actually define our life with you and set a certain system of values for each person. In his story "The Thirteenth Feat of Hercules" (1964), under a seemingly quite ordinary story from school life, a whole complex of meanings is hidden.

The story takes place during the Great Patriotic War. The life of an ordinary school is depicted in front of the reader. The main character is a student of 5 "B" grade, who could not complete his homework in the form of solving a problem in mathematics. The boy is afraid of his teacher and decides in every possible way to prevent the lesson from taking place.

Just take a walk? No, Harlampy Diogenovich's classes could not be missed. Therefore, the hero decides to persuade the school doctor and nurse to vaccinate their class, taking up most of the lesson. His idea is being successfully implemented, but the teacher unravels the selfish plans of his student and calls his tricks "the thirteenth feat of Hercules."

The plot composition is based on the technique of retrospection. The reader gets acquainted with the events of the work from the words of an adult storyteller, who is the main character and thus a boy who has not solved the notorious problem in mathematics. It turns out that the whole story is a memory that to some extent determined the real life of the former student.

Humor in the work
Laughter episodes turn out to be important for understanding the author's artistic intent. There are a lot of them and most of them are created using the image of Harlampy Diogenovich and his students. The schoolteacher uses humor masterfully for educational purposes.

The combination of a child's and an adult's outlook on life not only gives an amazing lightness to the narrative, but also gives a greater objectivity to the problems touched upon. The unification of the protagonist and the narrator into one person allows you to more accurately convey what happened and, most importantly, to assess all this. We feel a certain respect for the teacher, a grateful attitude towards him and his educational methods, designed to ridicule the wrong actions of schoolchildren.

For example, in the episode with a late student, he compares him to the Prince of Wales, showing that coming to class later than the teacher is a manifestation of disrespect and his own licentiousness. When the cunning of the protagonist is revealed, the teacher kindly and naturally asks: "Have you swallowed an artillery shell?" His next phrase is even more anecdotal: "Then ask the military commander to de-mine you."

Irony and laughter make it possible to reveal negative aspects in the behavior of not only specific students, but also all other people. The world of a work of art becomes a kind of projection onto the entire society. After all, we all have friends who love to be late, hide cowardice with imaginary courage, rely not on our own strength, but on someone else's help.

A simple plot, irony of many events in the narrative and vivid images concentrate the reader's attention on the philosophical problems of the work. These are questions of honor, cowardice and courage, truth and lies. Another important point is to be able to look at yourself from the outside and after a while be able to assess yourself, other people and everything that happens. The narrator and the main character definitely succeeded.

Characteristics of the characters "The Thirteenth Feat of Hercules"

Already at the very beginning of the story, we understand that one of the main characters is the teacher of mathematics Harlampy Diogenovich. There is in his image something of the hero of the era of romanticism. We do not know either his past or his future. He is not like other teachers who "were sloppy people, weak of character."

Kharlampy Diogenovich was highly respected. He never raised his voice at his students, did not threaten them with the fact that he would call their parents. However, in his lessons, the guys were always quiet and disciplined. The thing is that the teacher could easily use laughter, with the help of which he showed how ridiculous or unworthy the student's behavior is.

Kharlampy Diogenovich not only gave excellent knowledge on his subject, but also constantly told his wards something instructive from mythology, expanding their horizons. The teacher was of Greek origin, although he bore a Russian name. In his patronymic there is just a reference to Ancient Greece - Diogenovich reminds of the philosopher Diogenes.

Do children resent their teacher for ridicule? No. First, they are always fair and tactful enough. Secondly, their goal is not to humiliate a person, but to show only that discrepancy between his capabilities, talent and the way he behaves now. Nobody wants to be funny, and Harlampy Diogenovich was well aware of this. As the narrator himself notes, he thereby “tempered our crafty children's souls”, exposed serious problems - be it human cowardice or a tendency to live at someone else's expense.

Another protagonist of the work is the narrator himself. He appears in two ages. Firstly, this is the same boy whose cunning was brought to light by the teacher of mathematics. Secondly, this is already an adult storyteller, taught by life experience and telling us this story.

The hero of the story is an ordinary schoolboy who is very observant, smart enough and even cunning. He easily and skillfully used circumstances (the arrival of paramedics) in order to avoid checking homework, which he himself did not complete. Couldn't he really solve this shell problem? Most likely, the hero was simply too lazy at home and did not even ask for help from his classmates, having gone to play football.

Thanks to the perspicacious and attentive teacher, he subsequently not only "began to take homework more seriously," but also realized that an act done for selfish purposes and out of cowardice could in no way deserve respect, let alone be heroic ... This is just the "thirteenth feat of Hercules."

The main idea of the story

Every reader, regardless of age, can discover the meaning of this work. The author tells a simple school story in an extremely short and at the same time interesting way. He does not read us morality, does not talk about how to act, does not set anyone as an example. However, this gives the work an even greater instructive context.

First, we understand that you need to be serious about what you do. If you are a student, it is important to approach the learning process in a timely and responsible manner. If you are already an adult, it never hurts to remember everything that your parents, educators and teachers put into you. The narrator and the main character did not forget the efforts of Harlampy Diogenovich, who, thanks to his genius and laughter, successfully instilled in his wards the foundations of morality.

We suggest reading one of the most famous works written in the form of a philosophical and satirical tale.

Secondly, F. Iskander in his work touches on an important problem - cowardice and courage. The boy acted very bravely, but what were the goals pursued by the hero - to evade responsibility, not to seem ridiculous and to present himself as a real brave man, since he was not afraid of vaccinations and injections, being a long-term patient with malaria. Only an intelligent and attentive teacher noticed that his student had acted completely wrong and helped him to realize that cunning and cowardice lead to spiritual and moral failure.

The story is not devoid of many other semantic interpretations. This is the role of the teacher in the formation of personality, the influence of childhood and school, the theme of laughter and self-irony, lies and exposure. F. Iskander managed to combine all this organically in his small and amazing work, which continued the traditions of classical Russian literature.

All the mathematicians I met in school and after school were sloppy people, weak of character, and quite brilliant. So the statement that the Pythagorean pants are supposedly equal in all directions is hardly absolutely accurate.

Perhaps Pythagoras himself had this, but his followers, probably, forgot about it and paid little attention to their appearance.

And yet there was one mathematician in our school who was different from all the others. He could not be called weak-willed, much less slovenly. I do not know if he was a genius - now it is difficult to establish. I think it probably was.

His name was Harlampy Diogenovich. Like Pythagoras, he was of Greek origin. He appeared in our class from the new school year. Before that, we had not heard of him and did not even know that such mathematicians could exist.

He immediately established an exemplary silence in our class. The silence was so terrible that sometimes the director would open the door in fright, because he could not understand whether we were on the spot or fled to the stadium.

The stadium was located next to the schoolyard and constantly, especially during large competitions, interfered with the pedagogical process. The director even wrote somewhere to be moved to another place. He said that the stadium makes schoolchildren nervous. In fact, it was not the stadium that made us nervous, but the stadium commandant, Uncle Vasya, who recognized us unmistakably, even if we were without books, and drove us out of there with anger that did not fade over the years.

Fortunately, our director did not obey and the stadium was left in place, only the wooden fence was replaced with a stone one. So now those who used to look at the stadium through the cracks in the wooden fence also had to climb over.

Yet our director was in vain to fear that we might run away from the mathematics lesson. It was inconceivable. It was like going up to the director at recess and silently throwing off his hat, although everyone was pretty tired of it. He always, both winter and summer, wore the same hat, evergreen like a magnolia. And he was always afraid of something.

From the outside it might seem that he was most afraid of the commission from the city council, in fact, he was most afraid of our head teacher. It was a demonic woman. Someday I will write a poem about her in the Byronic spirit, but now I am talking about something else.

Of course, there was no way we could escape math class. If we ever ran away from a lesson, it was usually a singing lesson.

Sometimes, as soon as our Kharlampy Diogenovich enters the class, everyone immediately calms down, and so on until the very end of the lesson. True, sometimes he made us laugh, but it was not spontaneous laughter, but fun organized from above by the teacher himself. It did not violate the discipline, but served it, as in geometry a proof of the opposite.

It happened something like this. For example, another student is a little late for a lesson, well, about half a second after the call, and Kharlampy Diogenovich is already entering the door.

The poor student is about to fall through the floor. Maybe it would have failed if the teacher's room had not been directly under our classroom.

Some teacher will not pay attention to such a trifle, another will scold in the heat of the moment, but not Kharlampy Diogenovich. In such cases, he stopped at the door, shifted the magazine from hand to hand and, with a gesture full of respect for the student's personality, indicated the passage.

The student hesitates, his confused face expresses a desire to somehow slip through the door after the teacher more imperceptibly. But the face of Kharlampy Diogenovich expresses joyful hospitality, restrained by decency and an understanding of the unusualness of this moment. He makes it known that the very appearance of such a student is a rare holiday for our class and personally for him, Kharlampy Diogenovich, that no one expected him, and since he came, no one would dare to reproach him for this little lateness, especially he, modest a teacher who, of course, will go into the classroom after such a wonderful student and himself will close the door behind him as a sign that the dear guest will not be released soon.

All this lasts for several seconds, and in the end the student, awkwardly squeezing through the door, stumbles back to his place.

Kharlampy Diogenovich looks after him and says something wonderful. For example:

- Prince of Wales.

The class laughs. And although we do not know who the Prince of Wales is, we understand that he cannot appear in our class. He just has nothing to do here, because the princes are mainly engaged in hunting deer. And if he gets tired of hunting for his deer and wants to visit some school, then he will certainly be taken to the first school, which is near the power plant. Because she is exemplary. In extreme cases, if he wanted to come to us, they would have warned us long ago and prepared the class for his arrival.

That is why we laughed, realizing that our student could not possibly be a prince, let alone some kind of Welsh.

But now Kharlampy Diogenovich sits down. The class is instantly silenced. The lesson begins.

Big-headed, short, neatly dressed, carefully shaven, he held the class in his hands imperiously and calmly. In addition to the magazine, he had a notebook where he entered something after the questioning. I don’t remember him shouting at anyone, or persuading to study, or threatening to call his parents to school. All these things were of no use to him.

During the tests, he did not even think of running between the rows, looking into the desks or there vigilantly raising his head at any rustle, as others did. No, he was quietly reading something to himself or fingering a rosary with beads as yellow as cat's eyes.

It was almost useless to write off from him, because he immediately recognized the written-off work and began to ridicule it. So we wrote off only as a last resort, if there was no way out.

Sometimes, during the test, he would tear himself away from his rosary or book and say:

- Sakharov, change seats, please, to Avdeenko.

Sakharov gets up and looks at Kharlampy Diogenovich inquiringly. He does not understand why he, an excellent student, should change to Avdeenko, who is a poor student.

- Have pity on Avdeenko, he can break his neck.

Avdeenko stares blankly at Kharlampy Diogenovich, as if not understanding, and maybe not really understanding why he might break his neck.

- Avdeenko thinks that he is a swan, - explains Kharlampy Diogenovich. “Black swan,” he adds after a moment, hinting at Avdeenko’s tanned, sullen face. - Sakharov, you can continue, - says Kharlampy Diogenovich.

Sakharov sits down.

“And you too,” he turns to Avdeenko, but something in his voice barely perceptibly moved. A precisely metered dose of mockery poured into him. “… Unless, of course, you break your neck… the black swan! - he firmly concludes, as if expressing a courageous hope that Alexander Avdeenko will find the strength to work independently.

Shurik Avdeenko sits, bending furiously over a notebook, showing the powerful efforts of mind and will, thrown into the solution of the problem.

Harlampy Diogenovich's main weapon is to make a person funny. A student who deviates from school rules is not a lazy person, not a loaf, not a bully, just a funny person. Or rather, not just funny, perhaps many would agree to this, but some insultingly funny. Funny, not realizing that he is funny, or the last to guess about it.

And when the teacher makes you funny, the mutual responsibility of the students immediately disintegrates, and the whole class laughs at you. Everyone laughs against one. If one person is laughing at you, there is still some way you can handle it. But you can't make the whole class laugh. And if you turned out to be funny, I wanted to prove by all means that, although you are funny, you are not so completely ridiculous.

I must say that Kharlampy Diogenovich did not give privileges to anyone. Anyone could be funny. Of course, I also did not escape the common fate.

On that day, I did not complete the homework problem. There was something about an artillery shell that flies somewhere with some speed and for some time. It was necessary to find out how many kilometers he would fly if he flew at a different speed and almost in a different direction.

In general, the task was somehow confusing and stupid. My solution did not agree with the answer in any way. And by the way, in the problem books of those years, probably because of pests, the answers were sometimes incorrect. True, very rarely, because by that time almost all of them had been overfished. But, apparently, someone else was working in the wild.

But I still had some doubts. Pests are pests, but, as they say, don't do it yourself.

So the next day I came to school an hour before class. We studied in the second shift. The most inveterate footballers were already there. I asked one of them about the problem, it turned out that he did not solve it either. My conscience finally calmed down. We split into two teams and played until the very bell.

And now we enter the classroom. Barely catching my breath, just in case I ask the excellent student Sakharov:

- Well, how is the task?

“Nothing,” he says, “decided.

At the same time, he briefly and significantly nodded his head in the sense that there were difficulties, but we overcame them.

- How did you decide, because the answer is wrong?

- Correct, - he nods his head to me with such disgusting confidence on a smart, conscientious face that I hated him at that very moment for his well-being, albeit deserved, but all the more unpleasant. I still wanted to doubt, but he turned away, robbing me of the last consolation of the falling: grabbing the air with his hands.

It turns out that at this time Kharlampy Diogenovich appeared at the door, but I did not notice him and continued to gesticulate, although he was standing almost next to me. Finally, I figured out what was the matter, frightenedly slammed the book and froze.

Kharlampy Diogenovich went to the place.

I got scared and scolded myself for first agreeing with the football player that the task was wrong, and then disagreeing with the excellent student that it was correct. And now Kharlampy Diogenovich probably noticed my excitement and will be the first to call me.

A quiet and humble student sat next to me. His name was Adolf Komarov. Now he called himself Alik and even wrote "Alik" on his notebook, because the war had started and he did not want to be teased by Hitler. All the same, everyone remembered his name before, and on occasion reminded him of it.

I loved to talk, and he loved to sit still. We were put together to influence each other, but, in my opinion, nothing came of it. Everyone stayed the way they were.

Now I noticed that even he had solved the problem. He sat over his open notebook, neat, thin and quiet, and the fact that his hands were on the blotter, he seemed even quieter. He had such a stupid habit of keeping his hands on a blotter, which I could not wean him from.

“Hitler is kaput,” I whispered in his direction. He, of course, did not answer, but at least he removed his hands from the blotting paper, and it became easier.

Meanwhile, Kharlampy Diogenovich greeted the class and sat down on a chair. He slightly pulled up the sleeves of his jacket, slowly rubbed his nose and mouth with a handkerchief, for some reason looked after that into the handkerchief and thrust it into his pocket. Then he took off his watch and started leafing through the magazine. It seemed that the executioner's preparations had gone faster.

But then he noted the absent and began to look around the class, choosing a victim. I held my breath.

- Who's on duty? He asked unexpectedly. I sighed, grateful for the respite.

There was no attendant, and Kharlampy Diogenovich forced the elder himself to erase from the board. While he was washing, Kharlampy Diogenovich taught him what the headman should do when there was no attendant. I hoped that he would tell on this occasion some parable from school life, or Aesop's fable, or something from Greek mythology. But he didn’t say anything, because the creak of a dry rag on the board was unpleasant and he waited for the headman to finish his tedious wiping as soon as possible. Finally the headman sat down.

The class froze. But at that moment the door opened and a doctor and a nurse appeared at the door.

- Excuse me, is this the fifth "A"? The doctor asked.

“No,” said Kharlampy Diogenovich with polite hostility, feeling that some kind of sanitary measure could disrupt his lesson. Although our class was almost the fifth "A", because he was the fifth "B", he said "no" so resolutely, as if there was nothing in common between us and could not be.

“Sorry,” the doctor said again and, for some reason hesitatingly hesitated, she closed the door.

I knew they were going to give typhus injections. Some classes have already done it. Injections were never announced in advance so that no one could sneak away or, pretending to be sick, stay at home.

I was not afraid of injections, because they gave me a lot of injections for malaria, and these are the most disgusting of all injections.

And now the sudden hope, which had illuminated our class with its snow-white robe, disappeared. I couldn't leave it like that.

- Can I show them where the fifth "A" is? - I said, impudent with fear.

Two circumstances justified my insolence to some extent. I sat opposite the door and was often sent to the teacher's room for chalk or something else. And then the fifth "A" was in one of the outbuildings at the schoolyard, and the doctor could really get confused, because she rarely visited us, she constantly worked in the first school.

- Show me, - said Kharlampy Diogenovich and slightly raised his eyebrows.

Trying to restrain myself and not betray my joy, I rushed out of the classroom.

I caught up with the doctor and nurse in the corridor of our floor and went with them.

“I'll show you where the fifth A is,” I said. The doctor's wife smiled as if she were not giving injections, but handing out candy.

- Why don't you do it for us? I asked.

“Your next lesson,” said the doctor, still smiling.

“And we are leaving for the museum for the next lesson,” I said somewhat unexpectedly, even for myself.

In fact, we were talking about how to go to the local history museum in an organized way and inspect the traces of the site of a primitive man there. But the history teacher kept postponing our trip, because the director was afraid that we would not be able to go there in an organized way.

The fact is that last year one boy from our school stole the dagger of an Abkhaz feudal lord from there in order to escape with him to the front. There was a lot of noise about this, and the director decided that everything turned out this way because the class went to the museum not in a row of two, but in a crowd.

In fact, this boy had calculated everything in advance. He did not immediately take the dagger, but first put it in the straw that covered the Pre-Revolutionary Poor Man's Hut. And then, a few months later, when everything calmed down, he came there in a coat with a cut-through lining and finally took the dagger away.

"And we won't let you in," said the doctor jokingly.

- What are you, - I said, starting to worry, - we are going to the courtyard and go to the museum in an organized manner.

- So, in an organized way?

- Yes, in an organized way, - I repeated seriously, fearing that she, like the director, would not believe in our ability to go to the museum in an organized way.

- Why, Galochka, let's go to the fifth "B", or they really will leave, - she said and stopped. I have always liked such neat doctors in little white caps and white dressing gowns.

- But we were told first in the fifth "A", - this little tick became obstinate and looked at me sternly. It was evident that she was posing as an adult with all her might.

I didn’t even look in her direction, showing that no one even thought to consider her an adult.

“What difference does it make,” said the doctor, and turned resolutely.

“The boy can't wait to test his courage, right?

- I am a malaria, - I said, removing personal interest, - I was injected a thousand times.

- Well, malaria, lead us, - said the doctor, and we went.

Making sure they wouldn't change their minds, I ran forward to cut the connection between myself and their arrival.

When I entered the classroom, Shurik Avdeenko was standing at the blackboard, and although the solution to the problem in three steps was written on the blackboard in his beautiful handwriting, he could not explain the solution. So he stood at the blackboard with a furious and sullen face, as if he knew before, but now he could not remember the train of his thought.

"Don't be afraid, Shurik," I thought, "you don't know anything, but I have already saved you." I wanted to be gentle and kind.

- Well done, Alik, - I said quietly to Komarov, - I solved such a difficult problem.

Alik was considered a talented C grade student in our country. He was rarely scolded, but even less praised. The tips of his ears turned pink with gratitude. He bent over his notebook again and carefully placed his hands on the blotter. Such was his habit.

But then the door opened, and the doctor, along with this Checkmark, entered the classroom. The doctor's wife said that this is how, they say, and so, the guys need to give injections.

- If it is necessary right now, - said Kharlampy Diogenovich, glancing at me briefly, - I cannot object. Avdeenko, to the place, - he nodded to Shurik.

Shurik put down the chalk and went to his place, continuing to pretend that he remembered the solution to the problem.

The class became agitated, but Kharlampy Diogenovich raised his eyebrows, and everyone fell silent. He put his notebook in his pocket, closed the journal and made way for the doctor's wife. He himself sat down next to the desk. He seemed sad and a little offended.

The doctor and the girl opened their suitcases and began to lay out jars, bottles and hostile sparkling instruments on the table.

- Well, which of you is the bravest? - Said the doctor, predatory sucking the medicine with a needle and now holding this needle with the tip up, so that the medicine does not spill out.

She said it cheerfully, but no one smiled, everyone looked at the needle.

- We will call according to the list, - said Kharlampy Diogenovich, - because there are solid heroes here.

He opened the magazine.

- Avdeenko, - said Kharlampy Diogenovich and raised his head.

The class laughed nervously. The doctor also smiled, although she did not understand why we were laughing.

Avdeenko walked up to the table, long, awkward, and it was clear from his face that he had not decided what was better, to get a deuce or to go first for the injection.

He pulled on his shirt and now stood with his back to the doctor, still the same awkward and not deciding which was better. And then, when the injection was done, he was not happy, although now the whole class envied him.

Alik Komarov turned more and more pale. It was his turn. And although he continued to keep his hands on the blotter, it seems that it did not help him.

I tried to somehow make him brave, but nothing worked. With each passing minute he grew more severe and paler. He stared at the doctor's needle without stopping.

“Turn away and don't look,” I told him.

“I cannot turn my back,” he answered in a hunted whisper.

“It won't hurt so much at first. The main pain is when they will let the medicine in, - I was preparing him.

“I’m thin,” he whispered back to me, barely moving his white lips, “it will be very painful for me.

“Nothing,” I answered, “as long as the needle doesn't hit the bone.

“I have only bones,” he whispered desperately, “they will definitely hit.

“Relax,” I told him, patting him on the back, “then they won’t get in.”

His back was as hard as a board from the exertion.

“I’m weak anyway,” he answered, not understanding anything, “I’m anemic.

“Thin people are never anemic,” I objected sternly to him. - Malaria are anemic, because malaria sucks blood.

I had chronic malaria, and no matter how much the doctors treated, there was nothing they could do about it. I was a little proud of my incurable malaria.

By the time Alik was summoned, he was completely ready. I don't think he even knew where he was going and why.

Now he stood with his back to the doctor, pale, with glazed eyes, and when they gave him an injection, he suddenly turned white like death, although it seemed there was nowhere to turn pale. He turned so pale that freckles appeared on his face, as if they had jumped out of somewhere. Before, no one thought he was freckled. Just in case, I decided to remember that he has hidden freckles. It could come in handy, although I didn't know why yet.

After the injection, he almost collapsed, but the doctor restrained him and sat him on a chair. His eyes rolled back, we were all afraid that he was dying.

- "Ambulance"! I shouted. - I'll run and call!

Kharlampy Diogenovich looked at me angrily, and the doctor deftly slipped the bottle under his nose. Of course, not Harlampy Diogenovich, but Alik.

At first he did not open his eyes, and then suddenly jumped up and busily walked to his place, as if he was not just dying.

“I didn't even feel it,” I said when they gave me an injection, although I felt everything perfectly.

- Well done, malaria, - said the doctor.

Her assistant quickly and casually rubbed my back after the injection. It was evident that she was still angry with me for not letting them into the fifth "A".

“Rub it again,” I said. “It is necessary for the medicine to disperse.

She rubbed my back with hatred. The cold touch of alcoholized cotton wool was pleasant, but the fact that she was angry with me and still had to wipe my back was even more pleasant.

Finally it was all over. The doctor's wife with her Checkmark packed their suitcases and left. After them, a pleasant smell of alcohol and an unpleasant smell of medicine remained in the classroom. The disciples sat, shivering, carefully trying the injection site with their shoulder blades and talking like victims.

- Open the window, - said Kharlampy Diogenovich, taking his place. He wanted the spirit of hospital freedom to leave the classroom with the smell of medicine.

He took out a rosary and thoughtfully fingered the yellow beads. There was not much time left until the end of the lesson. At such intervals, he usually told us something instructive and ancient Greek.

The narration is in the first person.

In the new academic year, a new mathematics teacher, the Greek Harlampy Diogenovich, appears at the school. He immediately manages to establish "exemplary silence" in the classroom. Kharlampy Diogenovich never raises his voice, does not force him to study, does not threaten punishment. He only jokes at the guilty student so that the class bursts into laughter.

One day a student of grade 5- "B", the protagonist of the story, without doing his homework, waits with fear that he will become the object of ridicule. Unexpectedly, at the beginning of the lesson, a doctor and a nurse enter the class, who are vaccinating against typhoid among the students of the school. First, the injections were to be given to the 5th "A" class, and they entered the 5th "B" by mistake. Our hero decides to seize the opportunity and volunteers to accompany them, motivating that the 5th "A" class is far away, and they may not find it. On the way, he manages to convince the doctor that it is better to start giving injections from their class.

One of the students in the class becomes ill, and our hero decides to call an ambulance, but the nurse brings the boy to his senses. After the nurse and the doctor leave, there is little time left until the end of the lesson, and Kharlampy Diogenovich calls our hero to the blackboard, but he does not cope with the task. Kharlampy Diogenovich tells the class about the twelve exploits of Hercules and reports that the thirteenth has now been accomplished. But Hercules performed his feats out of courage, and this one was done out of cowardice.

Years later, our hero understands that a person should not be afraid to seem ridiculous, because probably Ancient Rome also died due to the fact that its rulers did not keep fools and were arrogant. Kharlampy Diogenovich tempered their children's souls with laughter.

A summary of Iskander's "13th feat of Hercules"

Plot

The new math teacher did not scold or punish the students who had fined, he simply ridiculed them.

Once the main character did not learn his homework and was very afraid of ridicule from the teacher and classmates. Therefore, when the doctors came to school to vaccinate against typhus, he convinced them to start not from grade 5 "A", but from grade 5 "B", in which he himself studied. The doctors agreed, and vaccinations were given throughout the whole lesson.

After the doctors left, there was still time until the end of the lesson, and the teacher called the "hero" to the blackboard, where everyone was convinced that the boy was not ready for the lesson. Then the teacher told about the exploits of Hercules, which he performed from noble motives. And our student accomplished his "feat" out of laziness and cowardice.

Conclusion (my opinion)

This lesson left a deep imprint on the boy's soul, he realized that the teacher brought them up with laughter better than any lectures and teachings. The author remembered this lesson for the rest of his life and wrote his own story to teach others by example.

The book “The Thirteenth Feat of Hercules. Thirteenth feat of hercules 13 feat of hercules main characters

Characteristics of the characters "The Thirteenth Feat of Hercules"

The main idea of ​​the story

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Plot

Conclusion (my opinion)

The main idea of the story