Goals and means in the novel “Crime and Punishment. Yellow ticket What is it?

On the pages of Tolstoy and Dostoevsky, in historical references we can see references to the yellow ticket. What it is? Who was it given to? was it possible to get rid of it? What does it mean to "go with a yellow ticket?" Read the description and history of this unusual document that could be obtained instead of a passport.

What it is?

There was a period in Tsarist Russia when prostitution was controlled by the state and legalized. Brothels paid taxes, and the girls were given a corresponding document instead of a passport. It was called the "yellow ticket" because of its color.

Holders of such a ticket had no right to engage in another profession. And it was very difficult to return an ordinary passport, even if the girl decided to quit her craft. A special document forced me to regularly go for a medical examination and register with the police station.

The book contained health information, rules and included a photograph of a prostitute.

But of course, not everyone wanted to have such a document. Illegal brothels and illegal street girls also flourished, but with a certain degree of risk. Those caught doing this were forced to exchange their passports for a yellow ticket.

The expression “to go with a yellow ticket” in those days meant to get dealt, to become a girl of easy virtue.

Historical reference

Prostitution, as we know, is the oldest profession. And in Russia it also existed, but not in its most developed form. The “overseas infection” flourished during the time of Peter the Great thanks to the “window to Europe.”

At the same time, the state’s official fight against this phenomenon began. In 1716, a decree was issued prohibiting fornication for money in military units. This was done to reduce sexually transmitted diseases. Punishments were introduced for military personnel who resort to the services of available women. And ladies caught red-handed were sent to prison.

All these measures did not give the expected result. In addition, the entire royal court was not distinguished by high morality and did not set the proper example.

Until the end of the 19th century, the unsuccessful fight against this evil continued, and then it was decided to place prostitution under state control. Now doctors and policemen were watching the girls, and selling bodies became a profession.

A set of official rules appeared in brothels. Gambling was prohibited, but playing the piano was allowed. The owner of the house received three quarters of the money, one quarter went to the worker.

The age of prostitutes was also regulated. It was forbidden to start before the age of 16. At the beginning of the 20th century, the age limit moved to 21 years. But in reality, the rules were not always followed, and very young people could be found in brothels.

At the turn of the century there were about 2,500 official brothels and more than 15,000 workers. In addition, the same number of street girls worked with a yellow ticket.

After the revolution, an active struggle against the “petty-bourgeois evil” began. In a labor socialist society there was no place for girls of easy virtue. And prostitution again went deep underground.

Who lived on a yellow ticket?

Mostly girls from the poorest strata of society became prostitutes. Often these were peasant or provincial women who came to the city to earn money. Some did not want to do back-breaking physical labor, but many were cheated, raped, or pushed into poverty.

Among the girls there were often maids seduced by the master, and factory workers seduced by the master. Finding themselves on the street with a damaged reputation, they did not know where to go. Here “caring” housewives were waiting for them, who first fed the outcasts, gave them shelter, and then gradually explained what kind of work they offered. Often the girls had no choice but to agree.

Occasionally among the prostitutes there were intellectuals or impoverished noblewomen. The cost of owning a beautiful, educated girl was higher, since they did not meet often.

Some of them received the yellow ticket on their own. And others, perhaps, did not plan to stay in the profession for a long time, but were caught with a client during a raid or became a victim of denunciation by the landlady.

Street fishing was considered the very bottom. Newcomers or those who could no longer work in a brothel went there. Women who have lost their beauty, are sick or have defects.

Yellow ticket in "Crime and Punishment"

From historical evidence and classical literature you can learn about the tragic fates of girls who, out of necessity, fell into the profession. The yellow ticket in “Crime and Punishment” was given to Sonya Marmeladova, an extremely positive heroine who found herself in difficult circumstances. The girl received the document through a denunciation.

In the book, Raskolnikov was able to love her despite this. But in life this happened rarely.

Of course, not all girls had a yellow ticket associated with hardship and suffering. Some in those days were glad that they did not have to ruin themselves with hard work in the factory. Someone thought that they were lucky - they had shelter, food, beautiful clothes, and a small income. And some women even managed to enjoy their profession.

Substitute ticket- due to its yellow color, it also had an unofficial name among the people yellow ticket- was an alternative document to a passport, which in the Russian Empire gave the right to legally engage in prostitution.

Story

Inspection book so-called. The “replacement ticket” consisted of 8 pages (4 spreads), on the last of which medical notes were placed ( "Doctor's note"), and the first one contained a photograph of a prostitute; on the second spread were placed "Supervision Rules"(13 points), and pages 5, 6 and 7 occupied "Rules for public women"(16 points) .

If you want to engage in an ancient profession, it’s fine, but be kind enough to register with the police, hand over your passport, and instead receive the famous “yellow ticket” - official evidence that this woman is no longer among the “decent” ones, and that the police are not only can, but is even obliged to organize regular medical examinations. It was very easy to become a victim of this order - to do this, it is enough to get caught at least once with a client during a police raid or simply, as a result of a denunciation from the landlord. Having a yellow ticket in hand, a woman had the right to earn a living only with her body. It was difficult to get my passport back, and there was no need - who needed a former “walker”. [ ]

However, in Russia all supervised prostitutes were divided into open and secret [ ] . And only the first received the notorious “yellow ticket”. The second category of pre-revolutionary “moths” were subject to secret supervision, and their activities “remained secret even to relatives.”

Idiom

“Yellow ticket” is an offensive statement about a woman.

Leo Tolstoy ( “So what should we do? ») the heroine mentions the document.

Option No. 394349

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Name the genre to which F. M. Dostoevsky’s work “Crime and Punishment” belongs.

Raskolnikov shuddered.

How do you want to know?

– Drink some water.

()

Answer:

Indicate the stage of development of action reflected in this fragment in an epic or dramatic work, where the resolution of its conflict is described or the fundamental insolvability of this conflict is revealed.

Read the fragment of the work below and complete tasks 1–9.

-...Nil Pavlych, and Nil Pavlych! How did he, the gentleman who was reported just now, shoot himself on Petersburgskaya?

“Svidrigailov,” someone from the other room answered hoarsely and indifferently.

Raskolnikov shuddered.

- Svidrigailov! Svidrigailov shot himself! - he cried.

- How! Do you know Svidrigailov?

- Yes... I know... He arrived recently...

- Well, yes, he recently arrived, lost his wife, a man of bad behavior, and suddenly shot himself, and so scandalously that it is impossible to imagine... he left a few words in his notebook that he was dying in his right mind and asked not to blame anyone for his death . This one, they say, had money.

How do you want to know?

– I... know... my sister lived in their house as a governess...

- Ba, ba, ba... Yes, you can tell us about him. And you had no idea?

– I saw him yesterday... he... drank wine... I didn’t know anything.

Raskolnikov felt as if something had fallen on him and crushed him.

“You seem to have turned pale again.” We have such a stale spirit here...

“Yes, I have to go,” muttered Raskolnikov, “I’m sorry, I bothered you...

- Oh, for mercy's sake, as much as you like! The pleasure was delivered and I am pleased to say...

Ilya Petrovich even extended his hand.

- I just wanted... I went to Zametov...

“I understand, I understand, and it was a pleasure.”

“I... am very glad... goodbye, sir...” Raskolnikov smiled.

He came out, he rocked. His head was spinning. He couldn't feel if he was standing. He began to walk down the stairs, resting his right hand on the wall. It seemed to him that some janitor, with a book in his hand, pushed him, climbing up to meet him in the office, that some little dog was baying and barking somewhere on the lower floor, and that some woman threw a rolling pin at it and screamed. He went downstairs and went out into the yard. Here in the courtyard, not far from the exit, stood Sonya, pale and completely dead, and looked at him wildly, wildly. He stopped in front of her. Something sick and exhausted was expressed in her face, something desperate. She clasped her hands. An ugly, lost smile squeezed out on his lips. He stood there, grinned, and turned upstairs, back to the office.

Ilya Petrovich sat down and rummaged through some papers. Standing in front of him was the same man who had just pushed Raskolnikov while climbing the stairs.

- A-ah-ah? You again! Did you leave anything?.. But what happened to you?

Raskolnikov, with pale lips and a fixed gaze, quietly approached him, walked up to the table itself, rested his hand on it, wanted to say something, but could not; Only some incoherent sounds were heard.

- You feel sick, chair! Here, sit on the chair, sit down! Water!

Raskolnikov sank into a chair, but did not take his eyes off the face of the very unpleasantly surprised Ilya Petrovich. Both looked at each other for a minute and waited. They brought water.

“It’s me...” Raskolnikov began.

– Drink some water.

Raskolnikov drew back the water with his hand and said quietly, deliberately, but clearly:

It was I who then killed the old official woman and her sister Lizaveta with an ax and robbed them.

Ilya Petrovich opened his mouth. They came running from all sides.

Raskolnikov repeated his testimony.

(F. M. Dostoevsky, “Crime and Punishment”)

Answer:

What is the name of the form of communication between the characters, represented by a conversation between two characters and which is the main one in this fragment?

Read the fragment of the work below and complete tasks 1–9.

-...Nil Pavlych, and Nil Pavlych! How did he, the gentleman who was reported just now, shoot himself on Petersburgskaya?

“Svidrigailov,” someone from the other room answered hoarsely and indifferently.

Raskolnikov shuddered.

- Svidrigailov! Svidrigailov shot himself! - he cried.

- How! Do you know Svidrigailov?

- Yes... I know... He arrived recently...

- Well, yes, he recently arrived, lost his wife, a man of bad behavior, and suddenly shot himself, and so scandalously that it is impossible to imagine... he left a few words in his notebook that he was dying in his right mind and asked not to blame anyone for his death . This one, they say, had money.

How do you want to know?

– I... know... my sister lived in their house as a governess...

- Ba, ba, ba... Yes, you can tell us about him. And you had no idea?

– I saw him yesterday... he... drank wine... I didn’t know anything.

Raskolnikov felt as if something had fallen on him and crushed him.

“You seem to have turned pale again.” We have such a stale spirit here...

“Yes, I have to go,” muttered Raskolnikov, “I’m sorry, I bothered you...

- Oh, for mercy's sake, as much as you like! The pleasure was delivered and I am pleased to say...

Ilya Petrovich even extended his hand.

- I just wanted... I went to Zametov...

“I understand, I understand, and it was a pleasure.”

“I... am very glad... goodbye, sir...” Raskolnikov smiled.

He came out, he rocked. His head was spinning. He couldn't feel if he was standing. He began to walk down the stairs, resting his right hand on the wall. It seemed to him that some janitor, with a book in his hand, pushed him, climbing up to meet him in the office, that some little dog was baying and barking somewhere on the lower floor, and that some woman threw a rolling pin at it and screamed. He went downstairs and went out into the yard. Here in the courtyard, not far from the exit, stood Sonya, pale and completely dead, and looked at him wildly, wildly. He stopped in front of her. Something sick and exhausted was expressed in her face, something desperate. She clasped her hands. An ugly, lost smile squeezed out on his lips. He stood there, grinned, and turned upstairs, back to the office.

Ilya Petrovich sat down and rummaged through some papers. Standing in front of him was the same man who had just pushed Raskolnikov while climbing the stairs.

- A-ah-ah? You again! Did you leave anything?.. But what happened to you?

Raskolnikov, with pale lips and a fixed gaze, quietly approached him, walked up to the table itself, rested his hand on it, wanted to say something, but could not; Only some incoherent sounds were heard.

- You feel sick, chair! Here, sit on the chair, sit down! Water!

Raskolnikov sank into a chair, but did not take his eyes off the face of the very unpleasantly surprised Ilya Petrovich. Both looked at each other for a minute and waited. They brought water.

“It’s me...” Raskolnikov began.

– Drink some water.

Raskolnikov drew back the water with his hand and said quietly, deliberately, but clearly:

It was I who then killed the old official woman and her sister Lizaveta with an ax and robbed them.

Ilya Petrovich opened his mouth. They came running from all sides.

Raskolnikov repeated his testimony.

(F. M. Dostoevsky, “Crime and Punishment”)

Answer:

Establish a correspondence between the characters acting and mentioned in this fragment and the individual events of the work: for each position in the first column, select the corresponding position from the second column.

Write down the numbers in your answer, arranging them in the order corresponding to the letters:

A	B	IN

Read the fragment of the work below and complete tasks 1–9.

-...Nil Pavlych, and Nil Pavlych! How did he, the gentleman who was reported just now, shoot himself on Petersburgskaya?

“Svidrigailov,” someone from the other room answered hoarsely and indifferently.

Raskolnikov shuddered.

- Svidrigailov! Svidrigailov shot himself! - he cried.

- How! Do you know Svidrigailov?

- Yes... I know... He arrived recently...

- Well, yes, he recently arrived, lost his wife, a man of bad behavior, and suddenly shot himself, and so scandalously that it is impossible to imagine... he left a few words in his notebook that he was dying in his right mind and asked not to blame anyone for his death . This one, they say, had money.

How do you want to know?

– I... know... my sister lived in their house as a governess...

- Ba, ba, ba... Yes, you can tell us about him. And you had no idea?

– I saw him yesterday... he... drank wine... I didn’t know anything.

Raskolnikov felt as if something had fallen on him and crushed him.

“You seem to have turned pale again.” We have such a stale spirit here...

“Yes, I have to go,” muttered Raskolnikov, “I’m sorry, I bothered you...

- Oh, for mercy's sake, as much as you like! The pleasure was delivered and I am pleased to say...

Ilya Petrovich even extended his hand.

- I just wanted... I went to Zametov...

“I understand, I understand, and it was a pleasure.”

“I... am very glad... goodbye, sir...” Raskolnikov smiled.

He came out, he rocked. His head was spinning. He couldn't feel if he was standing. He began to walk down the stairs, resting his right hand on the wall. It seemed to him that some janitor, with a book in his hand, pushed him, climbing up to meet him in the office, that some little dog was baying and barking somewhere on the lower floor, and that some woman threw a rolling pin at it and screamed. He went downstairs and went out into the yard. Here in the courtyard, not far from the exit, stood Sonya, pale and completely dead, and looked at him wildly, wildly. He stopped in front of her. Something sick and exhausted was expressed in her face, something desperate. She clasped her hands. An ugly, lost smile squeezed out on his lips. He stood there, grinned, and turned upstairs, back to the office.

Ilya Petrovich sat down and rummaged through some papers. Standing in front of him was the same man who had just pushed Raskolnikov while climbing the stairs.

- A-ah-ah? You again! Did you leave anything?.. But what happened to you?

Raskolnikov, with pale lips and a fixed gaze, quietly approached him, walked up to the table itself, rested his hand on it, wanted to say something, but could not; Only some incoherent sounds were heard.

- You feel sick, chair! Here, sit on the chair, sit down! Water!

Raskolnikov sank into a chair, but did not take his eyes off the face of the very unpleasantly surprised Ilya Petrovich. Both looked at each other for a minute and waited. They brought water.

“It’s me...” Raskolnikov began.

– Drink some water.

Raskolnikov drew back the water with his hand and said quietly, deliberately, but clearly:

It was I who then killed the old official woman and her sister Lizaveta with an ax and robbed them.

Ilya Petrovich opened his mouth. They came running from all sides.

Raskolnikov repeated his testimony.

(F. M. Dostoevsky, “Crime and Punishment”)

Answer:

What is the name of the method of depicting the inner life of a character (“he felt that something seemed to fall on him and pressed him,” “he came out, he swayed. His head was spinning. He did not feel whether he was standing”)?

Read the fragment of the work below and complete tasks 1–9.

-...Nil Pavlych, and Nil Pavlych! How did he, the gentleman who was reported just now, shoot himself on Petersburgskaya?

“Svidrigailov,” someone from the other room answered hoarsely and indifferently.

Raskolnikov shuddered.

- Svidrigailov! Svidrigailov shot himself! - he cried.

- How! Do you know Svidrigailov?

- Yes... I know... He arrived recently...

- Well, yes, he recently arrived, lost his wife, a man of bad behavior, and suddenly shot himself, and so scandalously that it is impossible to imagine... he left a few words in his notebook that he was dying in his right mind and asked not to blame anyone for his death . This one, they say, had money.

How do you want to know?

– I... know... my sister lived in their house as a governess...

- Ba, ba, ba... Yes, you can tell us about him. And you had no idea?

– I saw him yesterday... he... drank wine... I didn’t know anything.

Raskolnikov felt as if something had fallen on him and crushed him.

“You seem to have turned pale again.” We have such a stale spirit here...

“Yes, I have to go,” muttered Raskolnikov, “I’m sorry, I bothered you...

- Oh, for mercy's sake, as much as you like! The pleasure was delivered and I am pleased to say...

Ilya Petrovich even extended his hand.

- I just wanted... I went to Zametov...

“I understand, I understand, and it was a pleasure.”

“I... am very glad... goodbye, sir...” Raskolnikov smiled.

He came out, he rocked. His head was spinning. He couldn't feel if he was standing. He began to walk down the stairs, resting his right hand on the wall. It seemed to him that some janitor, with a book in his hand, pushed him, climbing up to meet him in the office, that some little dog was baying and barking somewhere on the lower floor, and that some woman threw a rolling pin at it and screamed. He went downstairs and went out into the yard. Here in the courtyard, not far from the exit, stood Sonya, pale and completely dead, and looked at him wildly, wildly. He stopped in front of her. Something sick and exhausted was expressed in her face, something desperate. She clasped her hands. An ugly, lost smile squeezed out on his lips. He stood there, grinned, and turned upstairs, back to the office.

Ilya Petrovich sat down and rummaged through some papers. Standing in front of him was the same man who had just pushed Raskolnikov while climbing the stairs.

- A-ah-ah? You again! Did you leave anything?.. But what happened to you?

Raskolnikov, with pale lips and a fixed gaze, quietly approached him, walked up to the table itself, rested his hand on it, wanted to say something, but could not; Only some incoherent sounds were heard.

- You feel sick, chair! Here, sit on the chair, sit down! Water!

Raskolnikov sank into a chair, but did not take his eyes off the face of the very unpleasantly surprised Ilya Petrovich. Both looked at each other for a minute and waited. They brought water.

“It’s me...” Raskolnikov began.

– Drink some water.

Raskolnikov drew back the water with his hand and said quietly, deliberately, but clearly:

It was I who then killed the old official woman and her sister Lizaveta with an ax and robbed them.

Ilya Petrovich opened his mouth. They came running from all sides.

Raskolnikov repeated his testimony.

(F. M. Dostoevsky, “Crime and Punishment”)

Answer:

Opposite principles fight in Raskolnikov’s soul. What is the name of such a confrontation, a clash of different positions?

Read the fragment of the work below and complete tasks 1–9.

-...Nil Pavlych, and Nil Pavlych! How did he, the gentleman who was reported just now, shoot himself on Petersburgskaya?

“Svidrigailov,” someone from the other room answered hoarsely and indifferently.

Raskolnikov shuddered.

- Svidrigailov! Svidrigailov shot himself! - he cried.

- How! Do you know Svidrigailov?

- Yes... I know... He arrived recently...

- Well, yes, he recently arrived, lost his wife, a man of bad behavior, and suddenly shot himself, and so scandalously that it is impossible to imagine... he left a few words in his notebook that he was dying in his right mind and asked not to blame anyone for his death . This one, they say, had money.

How do you want to know?

– I... know... my sister lived in their house as a governess...

- Ba, ba, ba... Yes, you can tell us about him. And you had no idea?

– I saw him yesterday... he... drank wine... I didn’t know anything.

Raskolnikov felt as if something had fallen on him and crushed him.

“You seem to have turned pale again.” We have such a stale spirit here...

“Yes, I have to go,” muttered Raskolnikov, “I’m sorry, I bothered you...

- Oh, for mercy's sake, as much as you like! The pleasure was delivered and I am pleased to say...

Ilya Petrovich even extended his hand.

- I just wanted... I went to Zametov...

“I understand, I understand, and it was a pleasure.”

“I... am very glad... goodbye, sir...” Raskolnikov smiled.

He came out, he rocked. His head was spinning. He couldn't feel if he was standing. He began to walk down the stairs, resting his right hand on the wall. It seemed to him that some janitor, with a book in his hand, pushed him, climbing up to meet him in the office, that some little dog was baying and barking somewhere on the lower floor, and that some woman threw a rolling pin at it and screamed. He went downstairs and went out into the yard. Here in the courtyard, not far from the exit, stood Sonya, pale and completely dead, and looked at him wildly, wildly. He stopped in front of her. Something sick and exhausted was expressed in her face, something desperate. She clasped her hands. An ugly, lost smile squeezed out on his lips. He stood there, grinned, and turned upstairs, back to the office.

Ilya Petrovich sat down and rummaged through some papers. Standing in front of him was the same man who had just pushed Raskolnikov while climbing the stairs.

- A-ah-ah? You again! Did you leave anything?.. But what happened to you?

Raskolnikov, with pale lips and a fixed gaze, quietly approached him, walked up to the table itself, rested his hand on it, wanted to say something, but could not; Only some incoherent sounds were heard.

- You feel sick, chair! Here, sit on the chair, sit down! Water!

Raskolnikov sank into a chair, but did not take his eyes off the face of the very unpleasantly surprised Ilya Petrovich. Both looked at each other for a minute and waited. They brought water.

“It’s me...” Raskolnikov began.

– Drink some water.

Raskolnikov drew back the water with his hand and said quietly, deliberately, but clearly:

It was I who then killed the old official woman and her sister Lizaveta with an ax and robbed them.

Ilya Petrovich opened his mouth. They came running from all sides.

Raskolnikov repeated his testimony.

(F. M. Dostoevsky, “Crime and Punishment”)

Answer:

What term denotes an expressive detail that carries a significant semantic and emotional load (for example, Svidrigailov’s notebook mentioned in the conversation between the characters)?

Read the fragment of the work below and complete tasks 1–9.

-...Nil Pavlych, and Nil Pavlych! How did he, the gentleman who was reported just now, shoot himself on Petersburgskaya?

“Svidrigailov,” someone from the other room answered hoarsely and indifferently.

Raskolnikov shuddered.

- Svidrigailov! Svidrigailov shot himself! - he cried.

- How! Do you know Svidrigailov?

- Yes... I know... He arrived recently...

- Well, yes, he recently arrived, lost his wife, a man of bad behavior, and suddenly shot himself, and so scandalously that it is impossible to imagine... he left a few words in his notebook that he was dying in his right mind and asked not to blame anyone for his death . This one, they say, had money.

How do you want to know?

– I... know... my sister lived in their house as a governess...

- Ba, ba, ba... Yes, you can tell us about him. And you had no idea?

– I saw him yesterday... he... drank wine... I didn’t know anything.

Raskolnikov felt as if something had fallen on him and crushed him.

“You seem to have turned pale again.” We have such a stale spirit here...

“Yes, I have to go,” muttered Raskolnikov, “I’m sorry, I bothered you...

- Oh, for mercy's sake, as much as you like! The pleasure was delivered and I am pleased to say...

Ilya Petrovich even extended his hand.

- I just wanted... I went to Zametov...

“I understand, I understand, and it was a pleasure.”

“I... am very glad... goodbye, sir...” Raskolnikov smiled.

He came out, he rocked. His head was spinning. He couldn't feel if he was standing. He began to walk down the stairs, resting his right hand on the wall. It seemed to him that some janitor, with a book in his hand, pushed him, climbing up to meet him in the office, that some little dog was baying and barking somewhere on the lower floor, and that some woman threw a rolling pin at it and screamed. He went downstairs and went out into the yard. Here in the courtyard, not far from the exit, stood Sonya, pale and completely dead, and looked at him wildly, wildly. He stopped in front of her. Something sick and exhausted was expressed in her face, something desperate. She clasped her hands. An ugly, lost smile squeezed out on his lips. He stood there, grinned, and turned upstairs, back to the office.

Ilya Petrovich sat down and rummaged through some papers. Standing in front of him was the same man who had just pushed Raskolnikov while climbing the stairs.

- A-ah-ah? You again! Did you leave anything?.. But what happened to you?

Raskolnikov, with pale lips and a fixed gaze, quietly approached him, walked up to the table itself, rested his hand on it, wanted to say something, but could not; Only some incoherent sounds were heard.

- You feel sick, chair! Here, sit on the chair, sit down! Water!

Raskolnikov sank into a chair, but did not take his eyes off the face of the very unpleasantly surprised Ilya Petrovich. Both looked at each other for a minute and waited. They brought water.

“It’s me...” Raskolnikov began.

– Drink some water.

Raskolnikov drew back the water with his hand and said quietly, deliberately, but clearly:

It was I who then killed the old official woman and her sister Lizaveta with an ax and robbed them.

Ilya Petrovich opened his mouth. They came running from all sides.

Raskolnikov repeated his testimony.

(F. M. Dostoevsky, “Crime and Punishment”)

Answer:

Why, after seeing Sonya, did Raskolnikov return to the office?

Read the fragment of the work below and complete tasks 1–9.

-...Nil Pavlych, and Nil Pavlych! How did he, the gentleman who was reported just now, shoot himself on Petersburgskaya?

“Svidrigailov,” someone from the other room answered hoarsely and indifferently.

Raskolnikov shuddered.

- Svidrigailov! Svidrigailov shot himself! - he cried.

- How! Do you know Svidrigailov?

- Yes... I know... He arrived recently...

- Well, yes, he recently arrived, lost his wife, a man of bad behavior, and suddenly shot himself, and so scandalously that it is impossible to imagine... he left a few words in his notebook that he was dying in his right mind and asked not to blame anyone for his death . This one, they say, had money.

How do you want to know?

– I... know... my sister lived in their house as a governess...

- Ba, ba, ba... Yes, you can tell us about him. And you had no idea?

– I saw him yesterday... he... drank wine... I didn’t know anything.

Raskolnikov felt as if something had fallen on him and crushed him.

“You seem to have turned pale again.” We have such a stale spirit here...

“Yes, I have to go,” muttered Raskolnikov, “I’m sorry, I bothered you...

- Oh, for mercy's sake, as much as you like! The pleasure was delivered and I am pleased to say...

Ilya Petrovich even extended his hand.

- I just wanted... I went to Zametov...

“I understand, I understand, and it was a pleasure.”

“I... am very glad... goodbye, sir...” Raskolnikov smiled.

He came out, he rocked. His head was spinning. He couldn't feel if he was standing. He began to walk down the stairs, resting his right hand on the wall. It seemed to him that some janitor, with a book in his hand, pushed him, climbing up to meet him in the office, that some little dog was baying and barking somewhere on the lower floor, and that some woman threw a rolling pin at it and screamed. He went downstairs and went out into the yard. Here in the courtyard, not far from the exit, stood Sonya, pale and completely dead, and looked at him wildly, wildly. He stopped in front of her. Something sick and exhausted was expressed in her face, something desperate. She clasped her hands. An ugly, lost smile squeezed out on his lips. He stood there, grinned, and turned upstairs, back to the office.

Ilya Petrovich sat down and rummaged through some papers. Standing in front of him was the same man who had just pushed Raskolnikov while climbing the stairs.

- A-ah-ah? You again! Did you leave anything?.. But what happened to you?

Raskolnikov, with pale lips and a fixed gaze, quietly approached him, walked up to the table itself, rested his hand on it, wanted to say something, but could not; Only some incoherent sounds were heard.

- You feel sick, chair! Here, sit on the chair, sit down! Water!

Raskolnikov sank into a chair, but did not take his eyes off the face of the very unpleasantly surprised Ilya Petrovich. Both looked at each other for a minute and waited. They brought water.

“It’s me...” Raskolnikov began.

– Drink some water.

Raskolnikov drew back the water with his hand and said quietly, deliberately, but clearly:

It was I who then killed the old official woman and her sister Lizaveta with an ax and robbed them.

Ilya Petrovich opened his mouth. They came running from all sides.

Raskolnikov repeated his testimony.

(F. M. Dostoevsky, “Crime and Punishment”)

In what works of Russian literature do heroes go through difficult life trials and deep disappointments, and in what ways can these characters be compared with Raskolnikov?

Read the fragment of the work below and complete tasks 1–9.

-...Nil Pavlych, and Nil Pavlych! How did he, the gentleman who was reported just now, shoot himself on Petersburgskaya?

“Svidrigailov,” someone from the other room answered hoarsely and indifferently.

Raskolnikov shuddered.

- Svidrigailov! Svidrigailov shot himself! - he cried.

- How! Do you know Svidrigailov?

- Yes... I know... He arrived recently...

- Well, yes, he recently arrived, lost his wife, a man of bad behavior, and suddenly shot himself, and so scandalously that it is impossible to imagine... he left a few words in his notebook that he was dying in his right mind and asked not to blame anyone for his death . This one, they say, had money.

How do you want to know?

– I... know... my sister lived in their house as a governess...

- Ba, ba, ba... Yes, you can tell us about him. And you had no idea?

– I saw him yesterday... he... drank wine... I didn’t know anything.

Raskolnikov felt as if something had fallen on him and crushed him.

“You seem to have turned pale again.” We have such a stale spirit here...

“Yes, I have to go,” muttered Raskolnikov, “I’m sorry, I bothered you...

- Oh, for mercy's sake, as much as you like! The pleasure was delivered and I am pleased to say...

Ilya Petrovich even extended his hand.

- I just wanted... I went to Zametov...

“I understand, I understand, and it was a pleasure.”

“I... am very glad... goodbye, sir...” Raskolnikov smiled.

He came out, he rocked. His head was spinning. He couldn't feel if he was standing. He began to walk down the stairs, resting his right hand on the wall. It seemed to him that some janitor, with a book in his hand, pushed him, climbing up to meet him in the office, that some little dog was baying and barking somewhere on the lower floor, and that some woman threw a rolling pin at it and screamed. He went downstairs and went out into the yard. Here in the courtyard, not far from the exit, stood Sonya, pale and completely dead, and looked at him wildly, wildly. He stopped in front of her. Something sick and exhausted was expressed in her face, something desperate. She clasped her hands. An ugly, lost smile squeezed out on his lips. He stood there, grinned, and turned upstairs, back to the office.

Ilya Petrovich sat down and rummaged through some papers. Standing in front of him was the same man who had just pushed Raskolnikov while climbing the stairs.

- A-ah-ah? You again! Did you leave anything?.. But what happened to you?

Raskolnikov, with pale lips and a fixed gaze, quietly approached him, walked up to the table itself, rested his hand on it, wanted to say something, but could not; Only some incoherent sounds were heard.

- You feel sick, chair! Here, sit on the chair, sit down! Water!

Raskolnikov sank into a chair, but did not take his eyes off the face of the very unpleasantly surprised Ilya Petrovich. Both looked at each other for a minute and waited. They brought water.

“It’s me...” Raskolnikov began.

– Drink some water.

Raskolnikov drew back the water with his hand and said quietly, deliberately, but clearly:

It was I who then killed the old official woman and her sister Lizaveta with an ax and robbed them.

Ilya Petrovich opened his mouth. They came running from all sides.

Raskolnikov repeated his testimony.

(F. M. Dostoevsky, “Crime and Punishment”)

Solutions to long-answer tasks are not automatically checked.
The next page will ask you to check them yourself.

Name the modernist poetic movement, one of the prominent representatives of which was A. A. Blok.

Russia Again, like in the golden years, Three worn out harnesses flutter, And the painted knitting needles knit Into loose ruts... Russia, poor Russia, I want your gray huts, Your songs are windy to me - Like the first tears of love! I don't know how to feel sorry for you And I carefully carry my cross... Which sorcerer do you want? Give me your robber beauty! Let him lure and deceive, - You will not be lost, you will not perish, And only care will cloud Your beautiful features... Well? One more concern - The river is noisier with one tear, And you are still the same - forest and field, Yes, the patterned board goes up to the eyebrows... And the impossible is possible The long road is easy When the road flashes in the distance An instant glance from under a scarf, When it rings with guarded melancholy The dull song of the coachman!..

A. A. Blok, 1908

Answer:

Indicate the number of the stanza (ordinal number in the nominative case) in which the poet uses anaphora.

Read the work below and complete tasks B8-B12; NW, C4.

Russia Again, like in the golden years,

Substitute ticket
the first spread of a certificate for the right to work as a prostitute at the Nizhny Novgorod fair in 1904-1905
Entered	1843
Issued in	Ministry of Internal Affairs of the Russian Empire
Purpose	Certificate for the right to work as a prostitute

Substitute ticket- due to its yellow color, it also had an unofficial name among the people yellow ticket- was an alternative document to a passport, which in the Russian Empire gave the right to legally engage in prostitution.

Story

Inspection book so-called. The “replacement ticket” consisted of 8 pages (4 spreads), on the last of which medical notes were placed ( "Doctor's note"), and the first one contained a photograph of a prostitute; on the second spread were placed "Supervision Rules"(13 points), and pages 5, 6 and 7 occupied "Rules for public women"(16 points) .

If you want to engage in an ancient profession, it’s fine, but be kind enough to register with the police, hand over your passport, and instead receive the famous “yellow ticket” - official evidence that this woman is no longer among the “decent” ones, and that the police are not only can, but is even obliged to organize regular medical examinations. It was very easy to become a victim of this order - to do this, it is enough to get caught at least once with a client during a police raid or simply, as a result of a denunciation from the landlord. Having a yellow ticket in hand, a woman had the right to earn a living only with her body. It was difficult to get my passport back, and there was no need - who needed a former “walker”.

However, in Russia all supervised prostitutes were divided into open and secret. And only the first received the notorious “yellow ticket”. The second category of pre-revolutionary “moths” was subject to secret supervision, and their activities “remained secret even to relatives.”

Idiom

“Yellow ticket” is an offensive statement about a woman.

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Notes

Links

• // “New Look”: newspaper. - M., 2006. - No. 08. - P. 03.

Excerpt describing the Yellow Ticket

Napoleon frowned and sat silently for a long time, his head resting on his hand.
“Cette pauvre armee,” he said suddenly, “elle a bien diminue depuis Smolensk.” La fortune est une franche courtisane, Rapp; je le disais toujours, et je commence a l "eprouver. Mais la garde, Rapp, la garde est intacte? [Poor army! It has greatly diminished since Smolensk. Fortune is a real harlot, Rapp. I have always said this and am beginning to experience it. But the guard, Rapp, are the guards intact?] – he said questioningly.
“Oui, Sire, [Yes, sir.],” answered Rapp.
Napoleon took the lozenge, put it in his mouth and looked at his watch. He didn’t want to sleep; morning was still far away; and in order to kill time, no orders could be made anymore, because everything had been done and was now being carried out.
– A t on distribue les biscuits et le riz aux regiments de la garde? [Did they distribute crackers and rice to the guards?] - Napoleon asked sternly.
– Oui, Sire. [Yes, sir.]
– Mais le riz? [But rice?]
Rapp replied that he had conveyed the sovereign’s orders about rice, but Napoleon shook his head with displeasure, as if he did not believe that his order would be carried out. The servant came in with punch. Napoleon ordered another glass to be brought to Rapp and silently took sips from his own.
“I have neither taste nor smell,” he said, sniffing the glass. “I’m tired of this runny nose.” They talk about medicine. What kind of medicine is there when they cannot cure a runny nose? Corvisar gave me these lozenges, but they don't help. What can they treat? It cannot be treated. Notre corps est une machine a vivre. Il est organise pour cela, c"est sa nature; laissez y la vie a son aise, qu"elle s"y defende elle meme: elle fera plus que si vous la paralysiez en l"encombrant de remedes. Notre corps est comme une montre parfaite qui doit aller un certain temps; l"horloger n"a pas la faculte de l"ouvrir, il ne peut la manier qu"a tatons et les yeux bandes. Notre corps est une machine a vivre, voila tout. [Our body is a machine for life. This is what it is designed for. Leave the life in him alone, let her defend herself, she will do more on her own than when you interfere with her with medications. Our body is like a clock that must run for a certain time; The watchmaker cannot open them and can only operate them by touch and blindfolded. Our body is a machine for life. That's all.] - And as if having embarked on the path of definitions, definitions that Napoleon loved, he suddenly made a new definition. – Do you know, Rapp, what the art of war is? - he asked. – The art of being stronger than the enemy at a certain moment. Voila tout. [That's all.]
Rapp said nothing.
– Demainnous allons avoir affaire a Koutouzoff! [Tomorrow we will deal with Kutuzov!] - said Napoleon. - Let's see! Remember, at Braunau he commanded the army and not once in three weeks did he mount a horse to inspect the fortifications. Let's see!
He looked at his watch. It was still only four o'clock. I didn’t want to sleep, I had finished the punch, and there was still nothing to do. He got up, walked back and forth, put on a warm frock coat and hat and left the tent. The night was dark and damp; a barely audible dampness fell from above. The fires did not burn brightly nearby, in the French guard, and glittered far through the smoke along the Russian line. Everywhere it was quiet, and the rustling and trampling of the French troops, which had already begun to move to occupy a position, could clearly be heard.
Napoleon walked in front of the tent, looked at the lights, listened to the stomping and, passing by a tall guardsman in a shaggy hat, who stood sentry at his tent and, like a black pillar, stretched out when the emperor appeared, stopped opposite him.

In recent decades, everyone has been actively discussing the issue of prostitution. How to deal with her and her patrons from law enforcement agencies? How to protect society from asocial elements? How to treat prostitutes, some of whom have become hostages of circumstances? Everyone considers it their duty to speak out on this topic, even if they have only seen prostitutes in cartoons. The polarization of public opinion is also spurred by the gay pride parade approaching Moscow, but gay pride parades are a separate conversation.

Someone argues that we should not fight this phenomenon, but legalize it. That is, there will still be no decrease in those wishing to use the services of prostitutes, and this way it will be possible to somehow control this business, receive taxes from it, not to mention medical books and employment contracts for workers the oldest profession ! And by increasing the quality, you will increase prices and, accordingly, contributions to the budget.

A strange monument to a prostitute "Shop of Vice" on the outskirts of Prague

Now in Russia it is difficult for many to imagine such legalization for moral and ethical reasons, and I understand this. As in the case of alcohol, cigarettes, drugs, gambling and other means of satisfying needs of varying degrees of depravity, this will always be a stumbling block for at least two points of view.

But has Russia always shunned the moral laxity of its distant red-light district? Let's rewind 2 paragraphs back, where I called prostitution the oldest profession. Usually this phraseological unit is used rather as a joke, but it turns out that there were prostitutes in the Russian Empire. Moreover, their activities were absolutely legal and each of the workers had a document allowing them to do this!

Yellow ticket allowing legal prostitution

A “yellow ticket” was issued to prostitutes instead of a passport. It would not be very pleasant now to catch the grins of police officers looking at such a crust in our time :) The document consisted of 8 pages, contained medical notes, rules for supervision, rules for public women, and on the first spread there was a photo of a citizen of a prostitute. A ticket was issued when decent girls were caught red-handed fried. This led to the surrender of the passport, and with such a document the woman was doomed to sell her body and undergo regular police checks. This yellow ticket also appeared in “Crime and Punishment”; Sonechka Marmeladova had such a ticket; as we know from the plot of the book, Raskolnikov was not greatly embarrassed by the fact of the existence of this piece of paper.

Maybe it's time to introduce such a compulsory document? If you want to earn money with your body, please, but be kind enough to get a yellow ticket with doctor’s notes. Or should we push the profession to the end, to the last pimp? But who then will provide thousands of girls with a decent education, work, who will allow a fallen teacher to approach their child? What are your thoughts on this topic?