The Tale of Bygone Years consists of 2 parts. The most ancient chronicle. The Tale of Bygone Years

3. The most ancient chronicles. The Tale of Bygone Years

The “historical memory” of the East Slavic tribes stretched back several centuries: traditions and legends were passed down from generation to generation about the settlement of Slavic tribes, about the clashes of the Slavs with the Avars (“Obras”), about the founding of Kiev, about the glorious deeds of the first Kiev princes, about distant campaigns Kiya, about the wisdom of the prophetic Oleg, about the cunning and decisive Olga, about the warlike and noble Svyatoslav.

In the 11th century Along with the historical epic, chronicle writing appears. It was the chronicle that was destined for several centuries, right up to the time of Peter the Great, to become more than just a weather record current events, but one of the leading literary genres, in the depths of which Russian plot storytelling developed, and at the same time a journalistic genre, sensitively responding to the political demands of its time.

Study of chronicles of the 11th–12th centuries. presents considerable difficulties: the oldest chronicles that have reached us date back to the 13th century (the first part of the first Novgorod chronicle of the older edition) or to the end of the 14th century. (Laurentian Chronicle). But thanks to the fundamental research of A. A. Shakhmatov, M. D. Priselkov and D. S. Likhachev, a fairly substantiated hypothesis has now been created about the initial stage of Russian chronicle writing, into which some additions and clarifications will undoubtedly be made over time, but which is unlikely will change essentially.

According to this hypothesis, chronicle writing appears during the time of Yaroslav the Wise. At this time, Christianized Rus' began to be burdened by Byzantine tutelage and sought to justify its right to church independence, which was invariably combined with political independence, for Byzantium was inclined to consider all Christian states as the spiritual flock of the Patriarchate of Constantinople and as a kind of vassals of the Byzantine Empire. This is precisely what Yaroslav’s decisive actions oppose: he seeks the establishment of a metropolitanate in Kyiv (which raises the ecclesiastical authority of Rus'), and seeks the canonization of the first Russian saints - princes Boris and Gleb. It was in this situation that the first historical work, the predecessor of the future chronicle, was apparently created - a collection of stories about the spread of Christianity in Rus'. Kyiv scribes argued that the history of Rus' repeats the history of other great powers: “divine grace” descended on Rus' just as it once did on Rome and Byzantium; Rus' had its own forerunners of Christianity - for example, Princess Olga, who was baptized in Constantinople during the time of the convinced pagan Svyatoslav; they had their own martyrs - a Christian Varangian who did not give up his son to be “slaughtered” to idols, and the prince-brothers Boris and Gleb, who died but did not break the Christian covenants of brotherly love and obedience to the “eldest”. Rus' also had its own “equal to the apostles” prince Vladimir, who baptized Rus' and thereby became equal to the great Constantine, who declared Christianity the state religion of Byzantium. To substantiate this idea, according to the assumption of D.S. Likhachev, a set of legends about the emergence of Christianity in Rus' was compiled. It included stories about the baptism and death of Olga, a story about the first Russian martyrs - the Christian Varangians, a story about the baptism of Rus' (including the “Philosopher’s Speech”, which briefly outlined the Christian concept of world history), a story about princes Boris and Gleb and extensive praise for Yaroslav the Wise under 1037. All six named works “reveal their belonging to the same hand... the closest relationship between each other: compositional, stylistic and ideological.” This set of articles (which D.S. Likhachev suggested conditionally calling “The Legend of the Spread of Christianity in Rus'”) was compiled, in his opinion, in the first half of the 40s. XI century scribes of the Kyiv metropolis.

Probably at the same time, the first Russian chronographic code was created in Kyiv - “Chronograph according to the Great Presentation”. He represented summary world history (with a clearly expressed interest in the history of the church), compiled on the basis of Byzantine chronicles - “Chronicles of George Amartol” and “Chronicles of John Malala”; it is possible that already at this time other translated monuments became known in Rus', setting out world history or containing prophecies about the coming “end of the world”: “The Revelation of Methodius of Patara”, “Interpretations” of Hippolytus on the books of the Prophet Daniel, “The Tale of Epiphanius of Cyprus about the Six days of creation”, etc.

The next stage in the development of Russian chronicles occurred in the 60–70s. XI century and is associated with the activities of the monk of the Kiev-Pechersk Monastery Nikon.

It was Nikon who added to the “Tale of the Spread of Christianity in Rus'” the legends about the first Russian princes and stories about their campaigns against Constantinople. Perhaps Nikon also included the “Korsun Legend” into the chronicle (according to which Vladimir was baptized not in Kyiv, but in Korsun); finally, the chronicle owes the same Nikon the inclusion of the so-called Varangian legend. This legend reported that the Kyiv princes allegedly descended from the Varangian prince Rurik, who was invited to Rus' to stop the internecine strife of the Slavs. The inclusion of the legend in the chronicle had its own meaning: with the authority of legend, Nikon tried to convince his contemporaries of the unnaturalness of internecine wars, of the need for all princes to obey the Grand Duke of Kyiv - the heir and descendant of Rurik. Finally, according to researchers, it was Nikon who gave the chronicle the form of weather records.

Initial arch. Around 1095, a new chronicle was created, which A. A. Shakhmatov proposed to call “Initial”. From the moment of the creation of the “Initial Code”, the possibility of a proper textual study of the ancient chronicles appears. A. A. Shakhmatov drew attention to the fact that the description of events up to the beginning of the 12th century. different in the Laurentian, Radzivilov, Moscow Academic and Ipatiev Chronicles, on the one hand, and in the Novgorod First Chronicle, on the other. This gave him the opportunity to establish that the Novgorod First Chronicle reflected the previous stage of chronicle writing - the “Initial Code”, and the rest of the named chronicles included a revision of the “Initial Code”, a new chronicle monument - “The Tale of Bygone Years”.

The compiler of the “Initial Code” continued the chronicle with a description of the events of 1073–1095, giving his work, especially in this part he added, a clearly journalistic character: he reproached the princes for internecine wars, complained that they do not care about the defense of the Russian land, do not listen to the advice of “sensible husbands”.

The Tale of Bygone Years. At the beginning of the 12th century. The “Initial Code” was again revised: the monk of the Kiev-Pechersk Monastery Nestor, a scribe with a broad historical outlook and great literary talent (he also wrote “The Life of Boris and Gleb” and “The Life of Theodosius of the Pechersk”) creates a new chronicle collection - “The Tale of Bygone Years” " Nestor set himself a significant task: not only to present the events of the turn of the 11th–12th centuries, of which he was an eyewitness, but also to completely rework the story about the beginning of Rus' - “where did the Russian land come from, who in Kyiv began first than the princedom,” as he himself formulated this task in the title of his work (PVL, p. 9).

Nestor introduces the history of Rus' into the mainstream of world history. He begins his chronicle with a presentation of the biblical legend about the division of the land between the sons of Noah, while placing the Slavs in the list of peoples going back to the “Chronicle of Amartol” (elsewhere in the text the Slavs are identified by the chronicler with the “Norics” - the inhabitants of one of the provinces of the Roman Empire, located on the banks of the Danube). Nestor slowly and thoroughly talks about the territory occupied by the Slavs, about the Slavic tribes and their past, gradually focusing the readers’ attention on one of these tribes - the glades, on the land of which Kiev arose, a city that in his time became the “mother of Russian cities.” Nestor clarifies and develops the Varangian concept of the history of Rus': Askold and Dir, mentioned in the “Initial Code” as “certain” Varangian princes, are now called “boyars” of Rurik, they are credited with the campaign against Byzantium during the time of Emperor Michael; Oleg, referred to in the “Initial Code” as Igor’s governor, in the “Tale of Bygone Years” his princely dignity was “returned” (in accordance with history), but it is emphasized that it is Igor who is the direct heir of Rurik, and Oleg, a relative of Rurik, reigned only during Igor’s childhood.

Nestor is even more of a historian than his predecessors. He tries to arrange the maximum of events known to him on the scale of absolute chronology, uses documents for his narration (texts of treaties with Byzantium), uses fragments from the “Chronicle of George Amartol” and Russian historical legends (for example, the story of Olga’s fourth revenge, the legend of the “Belgorod jelly "and about the young man-kozhemyak). “We can safely say,” D.S. Likhachev writes about Nestor’s work, “that never before or later, until the 16th century, has Russian historical thought risen to such a height of scholarly inquisitiveness and literary skill.”

Around 1116, on behalf of Vladimir Monomakh, “The Tale of Bygone Years” was revised by the abbot of the Vydubitsky Monastery (near Kiev) Sylvester. In this new (second) edition of the Tale, the interpretation of the events of 1093–1113 was changed: they were now presented with a clear tendency to glorify the acts of Monomakh. In particular, the story of the blinding of Vasilko Terebovlsky was introduced into the text of the Tale (in article 1097), for Monomakh acted as a champion of justice and brotherly love in the inter-princely feud of these years.

Finally, in 1118, “The Tale of Bygone Years” underwent another revision, carried out at the direction of Prince Mstislav, the son of Vladimir Monomakh. The narrative was continued until 1117, some articles for earlier years were changed. We call this edition of The Tale of Bygone Years the third. These are modern ideas about the history of ancient chronicles.

As has already been said, only relatively late lists of chronicles have been preserved, which reflect the mentioned ancient codes. Thus, the “Initial Code” was preserved in the Novgorod First Chronicle (lists of the 13th–14th and 15th centuries), the second edition of the “Tale of Bygone Years” is best represented by the Laurentian (1377) and Radzivilovskaya (15th century) chronicles, and the third edition came to us as part of the Ipatiev Chronicle. Through the Tver Vault of 1305 - a common source of the Laurentian and Trinity Chronicles - “The Tale of Bygone Years” of the second edition was included in the majority of Russian chronicles of the 15th–16th centuries.

Since the middle of the 19th century. Researchers have repeatedly noted the high literary skill of Russian chroniclers. But private observations of the style of chronicles, sometimes quite deep and fair, were replaced by holistic ideas only relatively recently in the works of D. S. Likhachev and I. P. Eremin.

Thus, in the article “The Kiev Chronicle as a Literary Monument” I. P. Eremin draws attention to the different literary nature of the various components of the chronicle text: weather records, chronicle stories and chronicle stories. In the latter, according to the researcher, the chronicler resorted to a special “hagiographic”, idealizing manner of narration.

D. S. Likhachev showed that the difference in stylistic techniques that we find in the chronicle is explained primarily by the origin and specificity of the chronicle genre: in the chronicle, articles created by the chronicler himself, telling about the events of his contemporary political life, coexist with fragments from epic tales and legends , having their own special style, a special manner of plot narration. In addition, the “style of the era” had a significant influence on the chronicler’s stylistic techniques. This last phenomenon needs to be discussed in more detail.

It is extremely difficult to characterize the “style of the era,” that is, some general trends in worldview, literature, art, norms of social life, etc. Nevertheless, in the literature of the 11th–13th centuries. The phenomenon that D. S. Likhachev called “literary etiquette” manifests itself quite thoroughly. Literary etiquette is the refraction of the “style of the era”, the peculiarities of worldview and ideology in literary work. Literary etiquette, as it were, determines the tasks of literature and already its themes, the principles of constructing literary plots and, finally, the visual means themselves, highlighting the circle of the most preferable figures of speech, images, and metaphors.

The concept of literary etiquette is based on the idea of ​​an unshakable and ordered world, where all people’s actions are, as it were, predetermined, where for each person there is a special standard of his behavior. Literature must accordingly affirm and demonstrate this static, “normative” world. This means that its subject should primarily be the depiction of “normative” situations: if a chronicle is written, then the focus is on descriptions of the prince’s accession to the throne, battles, diplomatic actions, death and burial of the prince; Moreover, in this last case, a unique summary of his life is summed up, summarized in the necrological description. Similarly, the lives must necessarily tell about the saint’s childhood, about his path to asceticism, about his “traditional” (precisely traditional, almost obligatory for every saint) virtues, about the miracles he performed during his life and after death, etc.

Moreover, each of these situations (in which the hero of the chronicle or life most clearly appears in his role - a prince or a saint) had to be depicted in similar, traditional speech patterns: it was necessarily said about the parents of the saint that they were pious, about the child - the future saint, that he shunned games with peers, the battle was narrated in traditional formulas such as: “and the slaughter of evil came,” “some were cut down, and others were caught” (i.e., some were chopped up with swords, others were captured), etc.

The chronicle style that most corresponded to the literary etiquette of the 11th–13th centuries was called by D. S. Likhachev “the style of monumental historicism.” But at the same time, it cannot be argued that the entire chronicle narrative is maintained in this style. If we understand style as general characteristics the author’s relationship to the subject of his narration, then we can undoubtedly talk about the comprehensive nature of this style in the chronicle - the chronicler really selects for his narration only the most important events and deeds of national significance. If we demand from the style and indispensable observance of certain linguistic features (i.e., stylistic devices themselves), then it turns out that not every line of the chronicle will be an illustration of the style of monumental historicism. Firstly, because various phenomena of reality - and the chronicle could not help but correlate with it - could not fit into a pre-conceived scheme of “etiquette situations”, and therefore we find the most striking manifestation of this style only in the description of traditional situations: in the depiction of the parish the prince “on the table”, in the description of battles, in necrological characteristics, etc. Secondly, two genetically different layers of narration coexist in the chronicle: along with the articles compiled by the chronicler, we also find fragments introduced by the chronicler into the text. Among them, a significant place is occupied by folk legends and traditions, many of which are included in the “Tale of Bygone Years” and - although to a lesser extent - subsequent chronicle collections.

If the chronicle articles themselves were the product of their time, bore the stamp of the “style of the era”, and were consistent with the traditions of the style of monumental historicism, then the oral legends included in the chronicle reflected a different - epic tradition and, naturally, had a different stylistic character. The style of folk legends included in the chronicle was defined by D. S. Likhachev as the “epic style.”

“The Tale of Bygone Years,” where the story of modern events is preceded by memories of the deeds of the glorious princes of past centuries - Oleg the Prophet, Igor, Olga, Svyatoslav, Vladimir, combines both of these styles.

In the style of monumental historicism, for example, the events of the time of Yaroslav the Wise and his son Vsevolod are presented. Suffice it to recall the description of the battle on Alta (PVL, pp. 97–98), which brought Yaroslav victory over the “accursed” Svyatopolk, the killer of Boris and Gleb: Svyatopolk came to the battlefield “in the strength of a heavy man,” Yaroslav also gathered “a multitude of howls, and against him on Lto." Before the battle, Yaroslav prays to God and his murdered brothers, asking for their help “against this nasty murderer and proud man.” And now the troops moved towards each other, “and covered the Letetskoye field with a multitude of howls.” At dawn (“the rising sun”) “there was a slaughter of evil, as if I had not been in Rus', and I was cut by the hands, and stepped three times, as if across the valleys [valleys, hollows] of the mother-in-law’s blood.” By evening, Yaroslav won, and Svyatopolk fled. Yaroslav ascended the Kiev throne, “wiped off his sweat with his retinue, showing victory and great labor.” Everything in this story is intended to emphasize the historical significance of the battle: an indication of the large number of troops, and details indicating the ferocity of the battle, and the pathetic ending - Yaroslav solemnly ascends to the Kiev throne, which he won through military labor and the struggle for a “just cause.”

And at the same time, it turns out that what we have before us is not so much the impressions of an eyewitness about a specific battle, but traditional formulas, in which other battles were described in the same “Tale of Bygone Years” and in subsequent chronicles: the phrase “slaughter of evil” is traditional, the ending is traditional, telling who “overcame” and who “fleeed”, usually for chronicle narration an indication of the number of troops , and even the formula “as if to satisfy the mother-in-law’s blood” is found in descriptions of other battles. In short, we have before us one of the examples of an “etiquette” depiction of a battle.

The creators of “The Tale of Bygone Years” write out the obituary characteristics of the princes with special care. For example, according to the chronicler, Prince Vsevolod Yaroslavich was “mockishly loving of God, loving the truth, providing for the poor [caring for the unfortunate and poor], giving honor to the bishop and presbytery [priests], being overly loving to the monks, and giving their demands” (PVL, with 142). This type of chronicle obituary will be used more than once by chroniclers of the 12th and subsequent centuries. The use of literary formulas prescribed by the style of monumental historicism gave the chronicle text a special artistic flavor: not the effect of surprise, but, on the contrary, the expectation of meeting with the familiar, the familiar, expressed in a “polished” form, consecrated by tradition - this is what had the power of aesthetic impact on the reader . This same technique is well known to folklore - let us recall the traditional plots of epics, triple repetitions of plot situations, constant epithets and similar artistic means. The style of monumental historicism, therefore, is not evidence of limited artistic possibilities, but, on the contrary, evidence of a deep awareness of the role of the poetic word. But at the same time, this style naturally fettered the freedom of plot narration, because it sought to unify and express various life situations in the same speech formulas and plot motifs.

For the development of the plot narrative, oral folk legends enshrined in the chronicle text played a significant role, each time distinguished by the unusualness and “entertaining” of the plot. The story of Oleg’s death is widely known, the plot of which was the basis for the famous ballad of A. S. Pushkin, stories about Olga’s revenge on the Drevlyans, etc. It is in this kind of legends that not only princes, but also insignificant ones in their own right, could act as heroes social status people: an old man who saved Belgorod residents from death and Pecheneg captivity, a young Kozhemyak who defeated a Pecheneg hero. But the main thing, perhaps, is something else: it is in such chronicle stories, which are genetically oral historical traditions, that the chronicler uses a completely different - compared to stories written in the style of monumental historicism - method of depicting events and characterizing characters.

In works of verbal art, there are two opposing methods of aesthetic influence on the reader (listener). In one case, a work of art influences precisely by its dissimilarity on everyday life and, we add, on the “everyday” story about it. Such a work is distinguished by special vocabulary, rhythm of speech, inversions, special visual means (epithets, metaphors) and, finally, special “unusual” behavior of the characters. We know that people in real life don’t talk like that or act like that, but it is precisely this unusualness that is perceived as art. The literature of the style of monumental historicism also occupies this position.

In another case, art seems to strive to become like life, and the narrative strives to create the “illusion of authenticity”, to bring itself as close as possible to the eyewitness account. The means of influencing the reader here are completely different: in this kind of narration, a “plot detail” plays a huge role, a successfully found everyday detail that seems to awaken in the reader his own life impressions, helps him to see what is being described with his own eyes and thereby believe in the truth of the story.

An important caveat needs to be made here. Such details are often called “elements of realism,” but it is significant that if in the literature of modern times these realistic elements are a means of reproducing real life(and the work itself is intended not only to depict reality, but also to comprehend it), then in ancient times “plot details” were nothing more than a means to create the “illusion of reality,” since the story itself can tell about a legendary event, about a miracle, in a word, about what the author portrays as having actually happened, but which may not have been so.

In The Tale of Bygone Years, stories written in this manner make extensive use of “everyday detail”: either a bridle in the hands of a youth from Kiev, who, pretending to be looking for a horse, runs with it through the camp of enemies, or a mention of how, testing himself before a duel with Pechenezh hero, a young leatherman pulls out (with professionally strong hands) from the side of a bull running past “the skin from the meat, as strong as his hand is,” a detailed, detailed (and skillfully slowing down the story) description of how the Belgorod residents “took honey onion”, which they found “to the princes of medusha”, how the honey was diluted, how the drink was poured into the “kad”, etc. These details evoke vivid visual images in the reader, help him imagine what is being described, to become, as it were, a witness to the events.

If in stories written in the manner of monumental historicism, everything is known to the reader in advance, then in epic legends the narrator skillfully uses the effect of surprise. Wise Olga seems to take seriously the matchmaking of the Drevlyan prince Mal, secretly preparing him for the ambassadors terrible death; the prediction given to Oleg the Prophet, it would seem, did not come true (the horse from which the prince was supposed to die had already died himself), but nevertheless, the bones of this horse, from which the snake would crawl, would bring death to Oleg. It is not a warrior who comes out to duel with the Pecheneg hero, but a skinned youth, moreover, “of average body,” and the Pecheneg hero - “very great and terrible” - laughs at him. And despite this “exposition”, it is the youth who prevails.

It is very significant to note that the chronicler resorts to the method of “reproducing reality” not only in retelling epic legends, but also in narrating contemporary events. An example of this is the story of “The Tale of Bygone Years” under 1097 about the blinding of Vasilko Terebovlsky (pp. 170–180). It is no coincidence that it was in this example that researchers examined the “elements of realism” of the Old Russian narrative, it was in it that they found the skillful use of “strong details,” and it was here that they discovered the masterful use of “plot direct speech.”

The climax of the story is the scene of Vasilko’s blinding. On the way to the Terebovl volost assigned to him at the Lyubech princely congress, Vasilko settled down for the night not far from Vydobich. The Kiev prince Svyatopolk, succumbing to the persuasion of David Igorevich, decides to lure Vasilko and blind him. After persistent invitations (“Don’t go on my name day”), Vasilko arrives at the “prince’s court”; David and Svyatopolk lead the guest into the “istba” (hut). Svyatopolk persuades Vasilko to stay, and David, frightened by his own malicious intent, “sits as if mute.” When Svyatopolk left the source, Vasilko tries to continue the conversation with David, but, says the chronicler, “there was no voice in David, no obedience [hearing].” This is a very rare example for early chronicles when the mood of the interlocutors is conveyed. But then David comes out (ostensibly to call Svyatopolk), and the prince’s servants burst into the hut, they rush at Vasilko, knock him to the floor. And the terrible details of the ensuing struggle: in order to restrain the mighty and desperately resisting Vasilko, they remove the board from the stove, put it on his chest, sit on the board and press their victim to the floor “like a persem [chest] of a troscotati,” and a mention that “ Torchin Berendi,” who was supposed to blind the prince with a blow of a knife, missed and cut the unfortunate man’s face - all these are not simple details of the story, but artistic “strong details” that help the reader visually imagine the terrible scene of blinding. According to the chronicler’s plan, the story was supposed to excite the reader, turn him against Svyatopolk and David, and convince him of the rightness of Vladimir Monomakh, who condemned the cruel massacre of the innocent Vasilko and punished the oath-breaking princes.

The literary influence of The Tale of Bygone Years has been clearly felt for several centuries: chroniclers continue to apply or vary the literary formulas that were used by the creators of the Tale of Bygone Years, imitate the characteristics contained in it, and sometimes quote the Tale, introducing fragments into their text from this monument. The Tale of Bygone Years has retained its aesthetic charm to this day, eloquently testifying to the literary skill of ancient Russian chroniclers.