Elizaveta Mertsalova in the story the wonderful doctor Kuprin essay. Wonderful Doctor Essay Image of Elizaveta Mertsalova

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Elizaveta Mertsalova is one of the key characters in Kuprin’s rather touching work called “The Wonderful Doctor.”

We learn that she and her husband Emelyan Mertsalov live quite poorly and barely make ends meet. According to the author's narration, we learn that most likely they came from a family of burghers. Due to lack of money, they have been living for a year in the basement of a small house located in Kyiv.

Together they are trying to raise four children: Grisha and Volodya recently turned ten years old, Mashutka is seven, and also a baby who is still an infant. Three months before the events unfold, the main characters’ daughter dies, which becomes a real tragedy in her life, which she experiences painfully.

From the external description we see that the main character has to work hard, her face looks exhausted and unhappy, it is partially blackened from the grief she has experienced. Often it expresses real concern for its future life and how it will provide for the children it loves with all its heart and sincerely worries about them.

A woman has a hardworking character and does not allow laziness. Every day she works at home for the benefit of her family, and also travels daily to the other end of the city to work as a laundress.

It is difficult for her to get to her place of work, but she goes there every day to provide for herself and her children. She understands that what her children will eat depends on her earnings; she no longer thinks about what she herself will eat and how she will eat.

Despite a number of financial difficulties, Elizabeth and her husband live a fairly peaceful life and share the hardships and hardships between them. The author writes that the woman is seriously ill and Dr. Pirogov is helping her. After this, money appears in the family, and the characters’ lives begin to gradually improve.

Elizaveta Mertsalova is a selfless woman, ready to share the difficulties and hardships of life with her husband. She works for the future good of her family, tries to work tirelessly, and maintains friendly and good relations with her family, despite the fact that they are experiencing financial difficulties and have to live in a small basement in the center of Kyiv.

Essay Image of Elizaveta Mertsalova

Kuprin’s touching story “The Wonderful Doctor” forces the reader to plunge into the gloomy atmosphere of poverty, where life is experienced in completely different colors. At the center of the story is the Mertsalov family, who live in a basement amid dirt, poverty and a terrible smell. Mertsalova and her husband have four children, one of whom is an infant. Taking into account the fact that the reader understands the conditions in which this family lives, he can conclude that the father and mother of the family are very courageous people, especially when he learns about another child who recently died.

Just imagine what a mother must feel, whose child died three months ago, and besides this, she has another infant in her arms, three older children and work on the other side of the city. It is the remaining children and husband that are the only thing that keeps Elizabeth afloat in this world, the only thing for which she still lives.

The woman looks like a gray spot, which symbolizes grief: she is thin, tall, and her face is literally blackened from all the torment she endured. But living for the sake of the remaining family members is not enough; you need to earn money without thinking about what disaster happened a few months ago. Elizaveta works for her mistress, washing clothes from morning to night, but this work is on the other side of the city, so Mertsalova must be terribly tired.

In addition to all the stress of housework, work and childcare, Elizabeth is suffering from a severe illness, because the author writes that she may even die, but by spring everything ends well thanks to the doctor who helped this unfortunate family financially.

I think that there are very few heroines like Elizaveta Mertsalova in our lives. I am sure that not every person will find the strength to live on when there is absolute darkness and darkness, poverty and illness around you. Not everyone can survive the death of their child, but she could. This means that Elizabeth is not just a courageous and persistent woman, she is a real role model. And let her not live in favorable conditions, let life prick her over and over again, but she overcomes all obstacles every time, maintaining her tender love for her husband, children and life as such.

Kuprin was able to create not just a positive heroine, but a heroine with whom you want to sympathize and help. And even more so, when you understand how real the whole situation and all the characters are, how alive they are, then you immediately have a desire to empathize, a desire for everything to end well for this family.

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Kuprin’s work “The Magic Doctor,” based on real events, looks like a good fairy tale. In the story “The Wonderful Doctor,” the characters found themselves in a difficult life situation: the father of the Mertsalov family lost his job, the children got sick, and the youngest girl died. A beautiful, well-fed life is in full swing around, and the family is begging. On the eve of the Christmas holiday, despair reaches its limit, Mertsalov thinks about suicide, unable to withstand the trials that befell his family. It was then that the main character meets his “guardian angel”.

Characteristics of the characters “The Wonderful Doctor”

Main characters

Emelyan Mertsalov	The head of the family, who worked as a manager in the house of a certain gentleman for 25 rubles a month. Having lost his job due to a long illness, he is forced to wander around the city in search of help and beg. At the moment of the story, he is on the verge of suicide, lost, and does not see the point in further existence. Thin, with sunken cheeks and sunken eyes, he looks like a dead man. In order not to see the despair of his loved ones, he is ready to wander around the city in a summer coat with his hands blue from the cold, no longer even hoping for a miracle.
Elizaveta Ivanovna Mertsalova	Mertsalov's wife, a woman with a baby, caring for her sick daughter. He goes to the other end of town to wash clothes for pennies. Despite the death of a child and complete poverty, he continues to look for a way out of the situation: he writes letters, knocks on all doors, and asks for help. Constantly cries, is on the verge of despair. In the work, Kuprin calls her Elizaveta Ivanovna, in contrast to the father of the family (he is simply Mertsalov). A strong, strong-willed woman who does not lose hope.
Volodya and Grishka	Children of the spouses, the eldest is about 10 years old. On Christmas Eve, they wander around the city, delivering letters to their mother. Children look into store windows, watching with delight the expensive, beautiful life. They are accustomed to need, to hunger. After the appearance of the “magic doctor,” the children were miraculously placed in a state school. At the end of the story, the author mentions that he learned this story from Grigory Emelyanovich Mertsalov (it was then that the name of the boys’ father became known), who was Grishka. Grigory has made a career and holds a good position in the bank.
Mashutka	The Mertsalovs’ little daughter is sick: she is in the heat, unconscious. He is recovering thanks to the doctor’s care, his treatment and the funds he left for the family along with a prescription for medicine.
Professor Pirogov, doctor	His image in the work is that of a good angel. He meets Mertsalov in the city, where he buys gifts for children he knows. He was the only one who listened to the story of the impoverished family and gladly responded to help. In Kuprin's story, he is an intelligent, serious, elderly man of short stature. The “wonderful” doctor has a gentle, pleasant voice. He did not disdain the squalid conditions and disgusting smells of the basement where the family lived. His arrival changes everything: it becomes warm, cozy, satisfying, and hope appears. It should be noted that the doctor is dressed in a worn, old-fashioned frock coat, this reveals him as a simple man.

Minor characters

The main characters of “The Wonderful Doctor” are ordinary people who, due to circumstances, find themselves in a desperate situation. The names of the characters play the role of characteristics in the work. The descriptions of the everyday life of the Mertsalov family at the beginning and end of the story are sharply contrasting, which creates the effect of a magical transformation. The article’s materials may be useful for compiling a reader’s diary or writing creative works based on Kuprin’s work.

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The family is beset with illnesses and misfortunes one after another. The father of the family is already thinking about suicide, but he meets a doctor who helps him cope with his difficulties and becomes their guardian angel.

Kyiv. The Mertsalov family has been huddled in the damp basement of an old house for more than a year. The youngest child is hungry and screaming in his cradle. An older girl has a high fever, but there is no money for medicine. On New Year's Eve, Mertsalova sends her two eldest sons to the man for whom her husband worked as a manager. The woman hopes that he will help them, but the children are kicked out without giving a penny.

In this terrible fateful year, misfortune after misfortune persistently and mercilessly rained down on Mertsalov and his family.

Mertsalov fell ill with typhus. While he was recovering, another man took his place as manager. All the family’s savings were spent on medicine, and the Mertsalovs had to move to a damp basement. The children started getting sick. One girl died three months ago, and now Mashutka is sick. In search of money for medicine, Mertsalov ran around the whole city, humiliated himself, begged, but did not get a penny.

Having learned that nothing worked out for the children either, Mertsalov leaves.

He was overcome by an uncontrollable desire to run anywhere, to run without looking back, so as not to see the silent despair of a hungry family.

Mertsalov wanders aimlessly around the city and turns into a public garden. There is deep silence here. Mertsalov wants peace, the thought of suicide comes to mind. He almost makes up his mind, but then a short old man in a fur coat sits down next to him. He starts talking to Mertsalov about New Year's gifts, and he is overcome by a "tide of desperate anger." The old man, however, is not offended, but asks Mertsalov to tell everything in order.

About ten minutes later, the old man, who turned out to be a doctor, already enters the Mertsalovs’ basement. Money immediately appears for firewood and food. The old man writes out a free prescription and leaves, leaving several large bills on the table. The name of the wonderful doctor - Professor Pirogov - Mertsalov is found on a label attached to the bottle of medicine.

Since then, “like a beneficent angel descended” into the Mertsalov family. The head of the family finds a job, and the children recover. Fate brings them together with Pirogov only once - at his funeral.

The narrator learns this story from one of the Mertsalov brothers, who became a major employee of the bank.

The following story is not the fruit of idle fiction. Everything I described actually happened in Kyiv about thirty years ago and is still sacred, down to the smallest detail, preserved in the traditions of the family in question. For my part, I only changed the names of some of the characters in this touching story and gave the oral story a written form. - Grisha, oh Grisha! Look at the pig... Laughing... Yes. And in his mouth!.. Look, look... there is grass in his mouth, by God, grass!.. What a thing! And two boys, standing in front of a huge solid glass window of a grocery store, began to laugh uncontrollably, pushing each other in the side with their elbows, but involuntarily dancing from the cruel cold. They had been standing for more than five minutes in front of this magnificent exhibition, which excited their minds and stomachs in equal measure. Here, illuminated by the bright light of hanging lamps, towered whole mountains of red, strong apples and oranges; there were regular pyramids of tangerines, delicately gilded through the tissue paper enveloping them; stretched out on the dishes, with ugly gaping mouths and bulging eyes, huge smoked and pickled fish; below, surrounded by garlands of sausages, juicy cut hams with a thick layer of pinkish lard adorned... Countless jars and boxes with salted, boiled and smoked snacks completed this spectacular picture, looking at which both boys for a moment forgot about the twelve-degree frost and about the important assignment , entrusted to them by their mother - an assignment that ended so unexpectedly and so pitifully. The eldest boy was the first to tear himself away from contemplating the enchanting spectacle. He tugged at his brother's sleeve and said sternly: - Well, Volodya, let's go, let's go... There's nothing here... At the same time suppressing a heavy sigh (the eldest of them was only ten years old, and besides, both of them had eaten nothing but empty cabbage soup since the morning) and casting one last lovingly greedy glance at the gastronomic exhibition, the boys hurriedly ran down the street. Sometimes, through the foggy windows of some house, they saw a Christmas tree, which from a distance seemed like a huge cluster of bright, shining spots, sometimes they even heard the sounds of a cheerful polka... But they courageously drove away the tempting thought: to stop for a few seconds and lean their eyes to glass As the boys walked, the streets became less crowded and darker. Beautiful shops, shining Christmas trees, trotters racing under their blue and red nets, the squealing of runners, the festive excitement of the crowd, the cheerful hum of shouts and conversations, the laughing faces of elegant ladies flushed with frost - everything was left behind. There were vacant lots, crooked, narrow alleys, gloomy, unlit slopes... Finally they reached a rickety, dilapidated house that stood alone; its bottom - the basement itself - was stone, and the top was wooden. Having walked around the cramped, icy and dirty courtyard, which served as a natural cesspool for all residents, they went downstairs to the basement, walked in the darkness along a common corridor, groped for their door and opened it. The Mertsalovs had been living in this dungeon for more than a year. Both boys had long since gotten used to these smoky walls, crying from the dampness, and to the wet scraps drying on a rope stretched across the room, and to this terrible smell of kerosene fumes, children's dirty linen and rats - the real smell of poverty. But today, after everything they saw on the street, after this festive rejoicing that they felt everywhere, their little children’s hearts sank from acute, unchildish suffering. In the corner, on a dirty wide bed, lay a girl of about seven years old; her face was burning, her breathing was short and labored, her wide, shining eyes looked intently and aimlessly. Next to the bed, in a cradle suspended from the ceiling, a baby was screaming, wincing, straining and choking. A tall, thin woman, with a gaunt, tired face, as if blackened by grief, was kneeling next to the sick girl, straightening her pillow and at the same time not forgetting to push the rocking cradle with her elbow. When the boys entered and white clouds of frosty air quickly rushed into the basement after them, the woman turned her alarmed face back. - Well? What? - she asked abruptly and impatiently. The boys were silent. Only Grisha noisily wiped his nose with the sleeve of his coat, made from an old cotton robe. - Did you take the letter?.. Grisha, I’m asking you, did you give the letter? “I gave it away,” Grisha answered in a voice hoarse from the frost. - So what? What did you say to him? - Yes, everything is as you taught. Here, I say, is a letter from Mertsalov, from your former manager. And he scolded us: “Get out of here, he says... You bastards...” - Who is this? Who was talking to you?.. Speak clearly, Grisha! - The doorman was talking... Who else? I tell him: “Uncle, take the letter, pass it on, and I’ll wait for the answer here downstairs.” And he says: “Well, he says, keep your pocket... The master also has time to read your letters...”- Well, what about you? “I told him everything, as you taught me: “There’s nothing to eat... Mother is sick... She’s dying...” I said: “As soon as dad finds a place, he’ll thank you, Savely Petrovich, by God, he’ll thank you.” " Well, at this time the bell will ring as soon as it rings, and he tells us: “Get the hell out of here quickly! So that your spirit is not here!..” And he even hit Volodka on the back of the head. “And he hit me on the back of the head,” said Volodya, who was following his brother’s story with attention, and scratched the back of his head. The older boy suddenly began to anxiously rummage through the deep pockets of his robe. Finally pulling out the crumpled envelope from there, he put it on the table and said: - Here it is, the letter... The mother didn't ask any more questions. For a long time in the stuffy, dank room, only the frantic cry of the baby and Mashutka’s short, rapid breathing, more like continuous monotonous moans, could be heard. Suddenly the mother said, turning back: — There’s borscht there, left over from lunch... Maybe we could eat it? Only cold, there’s nothing to warm it up with... At this time, someone’s hesitant steps and the rustling of a hand were heard in the corridor, searching for the door in the darkness. The mother and both boys - all three even turning pale from intense anticipation - turned in this direction. Mertsalov entered. He was wearing a summer coat, a summer felt hat and no galoshes. His hands were swollen and blue from the frost, his eyes were sunken, his cheeks were stuck around his gums, like a dead man's. He didn’t say a single word to his wife, she didn’t ask him a single question. They understood each other by the despair they read in each other's eyes. In this terrible fateful year, misfortune after misfortune persistently and mercilessly rained down on Mertsalov and his family. First, he himself fell ill with typhoid fever, and all their meager savings were spent on his treatment. Then, when he recovered, he learned that his place, the modest place of managing a house for twenty-five rubles a month, was already taken by someone else.... A desperate, convulsive pursuit began for odd jobs, for correspondence, for an insignificant position, collateral and remortgage. things, sale of all household rags. And then the children started getting sick. Three months ago one girl died, now another lies in the heat and unconscious. Elizaveta Ivanovna had to simultaneously care for a sick girl, breastfeed a little one and go almost to the other end of the city to the house where she washed clothes every day. All day today I was busy trying to squeeze out from somewhere at least a few kopecks for Mashutka’s medicine through superhuman efforts. For this purpose, Mertsalov ran around almost half the city, begging and humiliating himself everywhere; Elizaveta Ivanovna went to see her mistress, the children were sent with a letter to the master whose house Mertsalov used to manage... But everyone made excuses either with holiday worries or lack of money... Others, like, for example, the doorman of the former patron, simply they drove the petitioners off the porch. For ten minutes no one could utter a word. Suddenly Mertsalov quickly rose from the chest on which he had been sitting until now, and with a decisive movement pulled his tattered hat deeper onto his forehead. - Where are you going? - Elizaveta Ivanovna asked anxiously. Mertsalov, who had already grabbed the door handle, turned around. “Anyway, sitting won’t help anything,” he answered hoarsely. - I’ll go again... At least I’ll try to beg. Going out into the street, he walked forward aimlessly. He didn't look for anything, didn't hope for anything. He had long ago experienced that burning time of poverty when you dream of finding a wallet with money on the street or suddenly receiving an inheritance from an unknown second cousin. Now he was overcome by an uncontrollable desire to run anywhere, to run without looking back, so as not to see the silent despair of a hungry family. Beg for alms? He has already tried this remedy twice today. But the first time, some gentleman in a raccoon coat read him an instruction that he should work and not beg, and the second time, they promised to send him to the police. Unnoticed by himself, Mertsalov found himself in the center of the city, near the fence of a dense public garden. Since he had to walk uphill all the time, he became out of breath and felt tired. Mechanically he turned through the gate and, passing a long alley of linden trees covered with snow, descended onto a low garden bench. It was quiet and solemn here. The trees, wrapped in their white robes, slumbered in motionless majesty. Sometimes a piece of snow fell from the top branch, and you could hear it rustling, falling and clinging to other branches. The deep silence and great calm that guarded the garden suddenly awakened in Mertsalov’s tormented soul an unbearable thirst for the same calm, the same silence. “I wish I could lie down and go to sleep,” he thought, “and forget about my wife, about the hungry children, about the sick Mashutka.” Putting his hand under his vest, Mertsalov felt for a rather thick rope that served as his belt. The thought of suicide became quite clear in his head. But he was not horrified by this thought, did not shudder for a moment before the darkness of the unknown. “Rather than dying slowly, isn’t it better to take a shorter path?” He was about to get up to fulfill his terrible intention, but at that time, at the end of the alley, the creaking of steps was heard, clearly heard in the frosty air. Mertsalov turned in this direction with anger. Someone was walking along the alley. At first, the light of a cigar that flared up and then went out was visible. Then Mertsalov little by little could see an old man of short stature, wearing a warm hat, a fur coat and high galoshes. Having reached the bench, the stranger suddenly turned sharply in the direction of Mertsalov and, lightly touching his hat, asked: —Will you allow me to sit here? Mertsalov deliberately turned sharply away from the stranger and moved to the edge of the bench. Five minutes passed in mutual silence, during which the stranger smoked a cigar and (Mertsalov felt it) looked sideways at his neighbor. “What a nice night,” the stranger suddenly spoke. - Frosty... quiet. What a delight - Russian winter! His voice was soft, gentle, senile. Mertsalov was silent, without turning around. “But I bought gifts for the children of my acquaintances,” continued the stranger (he had several packages in his hands). “But on the way I couldn’t resist, I made a circle to go through the garden: it’s really nice here.” Mertsalov was generally a meek and shy person, but at the last words of the stranger he was suddenly overcome by a surge of desperate anger. He turned with a sharp movement towards the old man and shouted, absurdly waving his arms and gasping: - Gifts!.. Gifts!.. Gifts for the kids I know!.. And I... and I, dear sir, at the moment my children are dying of hunger at home... Gifts!.. And my wife’s milk has disappeared, and the baby hasn't eaten all day... Gifts!.. Mertsalov expected that after these chaotic, angry screams the old man would get up and leave, but he was mistaken. The old man brought his intelligent, serious face with gray sideburns closer to him and said in a friendly but serious tone: - Wait... don't worry! Tell me everything in order and as briefly as possible. Maybe together we can come up with something for you. There was something so calm and trust-inspiring in the stranger’s extraordinary face that Mertsalov immediately, without the slightest concealment, but terribly worried and in a hurry, conveyed his story. He spoke about his illness, about the loss of his place, about the death of his child, about all his misfortunes, right up to the present day. The stranger listened without interrupting him with a word, and only looked more and more inquisitively into his eyes, as if wanting to penetrate into the very depths of this painful, indignant soul. Suddenly, with a quick, completely youthful movement, he jumped up from his seat and grabbed Mertsalov by the hand. Mertsalov involuntarily also stood up. - Let's go! - said the stranger, dragging Mertsalov by the hand. - Let's go quickly!.. You are lucky that you met with a doctor. Of course, I can’t vouch for anything, but... let’s go! Ten minutes later Mertsalov and the doctor were already entering the basement. Elizaveta Ivanovna lay on the bed next to her sick daughter, burying her face in dirty, oily pillows. The boys were slurping borscht, sitting in the same places. Frightened by the long absence of their father and the immobility of their mother, they cried, smearing tears over their faces with dirty fists and pouring them abundantly into the smoky cast iron. Entering the room, the doctor took off his coat and, remaining in an old-fashioned, rather shabby frock coat, approached Elizaveta Ivanovna. She didn't even raise her head when he approached. “Well, that’s enough, that’s enough, my dear,” said the doctor, affectionately stroking the woman on the back. - Get up! Show me your patient. And just like recently in the garden, something affectionate and convincing sounding in his voice forced Elizaveta Ivanovna to instantly get out of bed and unquestioningly do everything the doctor said. Two minutes later, Grishka was already heating the stove with firewood, for which the wonderful doctor had sent to the neighbors, Volodya was inflating the samovar with all his might, Elizaveta Ivanovna was wrapping Mashutka in a warming compress... A little later Mertsalov also appeared. With three rubles received from the doctor, during this time he managed to buy tea, sugar, rolls and get hot food at the nearest tavern. The doctor was sitting at the table and writing something on a piece of paper that he had torn out of his notebook. Having finished this lesson and depicting some kind of hook below instead of a signature, he stood up, covered what he had written with a tea saucer and said: - With this piece of paper you will go to the pharmacy... give me a teaspoon in two hours. This will cause the baby to cough up... Continue the warming compress... Besides, even if your daughter feels better, in any case, invite Dr. Afrosimov tomorrow. He is an efficient doctor and a good person. I'll warn him right now. Then farewell, gentlemen! May God grant that the coming year treats you a little more leniently than this one, and most importantly, never lose heart. Having shaken the hands of Mertsalov and Elizaveta Ivanovna, who was still reeling from amazement, and casually patting Volodya, who was open-mouthed, on the cheek, the doctor quickly put his feet into deep galoshes and put on his coat. Mertsalov came to his senses only when the doctor was already in the corridor, and rushed after him. Since it was impossible to make out anything in the darkness, Mertsalov shouted at random: - Doctor! Doctor, wait!.. Tell me your name, doctor! Let at least my children pray for you! And he moved his hands in the air to catch the invisible doctor. But at this time, at the other end of the corridor, a calm, senile voice said: - Eh! Here are some more nonsense!.. Come home quickly! When he returned, a surprise awaited him: under the tea saucer, along with the wonderful doctor’s prescription, lay several large credit notes... That same evening Mertsalov learned the name of his unexpected benefactor. On the pharmacy label attached to the bottle of medicine, in the clear hand of the pharmacist it was written: “According to the prescription of Professor Pirogov.” I heard this story, more than once, from the lips of Grigory Emelyanovich Mertsalov himself - the same Grishka who, on the Christmas Eve I described, shed tears into a smoky cast iron pot with empty borscht. Now he occupies a fairly large, responsible position in one of the banks, reputed to be a model of honesty and responsiveness to the needs of poverty. And each time, finishing his story about the wonderful doctor, he adds in a voice trembling with hidden tears: “From now on, it’s like a beneficent angel descended into our family.” Everything has changed. At the beginning of January, my father found a place, my mother got back on her feet, and my brother and I managed to get admitted to the gymnasium at public expense. This holy man performed a miracle. And we have only seen our wonderful doctor once since then - this was when he was transported dead to his own estate Vishnya. And even then they didn’t see him, because that great, powerful and sacred thing that lived and burned in the wonderful doctor during his lifetime faded away irrevocably.

Vinnitsa, Ukraine. Here, in the Cherry estate, the famous Russian surgeon Nikolai Ivanovich Pirogov lived and worked for 20 years: a man who performed many miracles during his life, the prototype of the “wonderful doctor” about whom Alexander Ivanovich Kuprin narrates.

On December 25, 1897, the newspaper “Kievskoye Slovo” published a work by A.I. Kuprin’s “The Wonderful Doctor (true incident),” which begins with the lines: “The following story is not the fruit of idle fiction. Everything I described actually happened in Kyiv about thirty years ago...” - which immediately puts the reader in a serious mood: after all, we take real stories closer to our hearts and worry more about the heroes.

So, this story was told to Alexander Ivanovich by a banker he knew, who, by the way, is also one of the heroes of the book. The real basis of the story is no different from what the author depicted.

“The Wonderful Doctor” is a work about the amazing philanthropy, the mercy of one famous doctor who did not strive for fame, did not expect honors, but only selflessly provided help to those who needed it here and now.

Meaning of the name

Secondly, no one except Pirogov wanted to lend a helping hand to people in need; passers-by replaced the bright and pure message of Christmas with the pursuit of discounts, profitable goods and festive dishes. In this atmosphere, the manifestation of virtue is a miracle that can only be hoped for.

Genre and direction

“The Wonderful Doctor” is a story, or, to be more precise, a Yuletide, or Christmas, story. According to all the laws of the genre, the heroes of the work find themselves in a difficult life situation: troubles fall one after another, there is not enough money, which is why the characters even think about taking their own lives. Only a miracle can help them. This miracle results from a chance meeting with a doctor who, in one evening, helps them overcome life’s difficulties. The work “The Wonderful Doctor” has a bright ending: good defeats evil, a state of spiritual decline is replaced by hopes for a better life. However, this does not prevent us from attributing this work to the realistic direction, because everything that happened in it is the pure truth.

The story takes place during the holidays. Decorated Christmas trees peek out from store windows, there is an abundance of delicious food everywhere, laughter is heard in the streets, and the ear catches the cheerful conversations of people. But somewhere, very close by, poverty, grief and despair reign. And all these human troubles on the bright holiday of the Nativity of Christ are illuminated by a miracle.

Composition

The entire work is built on contrasts. At the very beginning, two boys stand in front of a bright shop window, a festive spirit is in the air. But when they go home, everything around them becomes darker: old, crumbling houses are everywhere, and their own home is completely in the basement. While people in the city are preparing for the holiday, the Mertsalovs do not know how to make ends meet in order to simply survive. There is no talk of a holiday in their family. This stark contrast allows the reader to feel the desperate situation in which the family finds itself.

It is worth noting the contrast among the heroes of the work. The head of the family turns out to be a weak person who is no longer able to solve problems, but is ready to run away from them: he thinks about suicide. Professor Pirogov is presented to us as an incredibly strong, cheerful and positive hero who, with his kindness, saves the Mertsalov family.

The essence

In the story “The Wonderful Doctor” by A.I. Kuprin talks about how human kindness and caring for one's neighbor can change lives. The action takes place approximately in the 60s of the 19th century in Kyiv. The city has an atmosphere of magic and the approaching holiday. The work begins with two boys, Grisha and Volodya Mertsalov, joyfully gazing at the store window, joking and laughing. But it soon turns out that their family has big problems: they live in the basement, there is a catastrophic lack of money, their father was kicked out of work, their sister died six months ago, and now their second sister, Mashutka, is very ill. Everyone is desperate and seems to be prepared for the worst.

That evening the father of the family goes to beg for alms, but all attempts are in vain. He goes to a park, where he talks about the difficult life of his family, and thoughts of suicide begin to occur to him. But fate turns out to be favorable, and in this very park Mertsalov meets a man who is destined to change his life. They go home to an impoverished family, where the doctor examines Mashutka, prescribes her the necessary medications and even leaves her a large sum of money. He does not give a name, considering what he did to be his duty. And only by the signature on the prescription does the family know that this doctor is the famous Professor Pirogov.

The main characters and their characteristics

The story involves a small number of characters. In this work for A.I. The wonderful doctor himself, Alexander Ivanovich Pirogov, is important to Kuprin.

Pirogov- famous professor, surgeon. He knows how to approach any person: he looks at the father of the family so carefully and interestedly that he almost immediately inspires confidence in him, and he talks about all his troubles. Pirogov does not need to think about whether to help or not. He heads home to the Mertsalovs, where he does everything possible to save desperate souls. One of Mertsalov’s sons, already an adult man, remembers him and calls him a saint: “... that great, powerful and holy thing that lived and burned in the wonderful doctor during his lifetime faded away irrevocably.”
Mertsalov- a man broken by adversity, who is consumed by his own powerlessness. Seeing the death of his daughter, the despair of his wife, the deprivation of the other children, he is ashamed of his inability to help them. The Doctor stops him on the path to a cowardly and fatal act, saving, first of all, his soul, which was ready to sin.

Themes

The main themes of the work are mercy, compassion and kindness. The Mertsalov family is doing everything possible to cope with the troubles that have befallen them. And in a moment of despair, fate sends them a gift: Doctor Pirogov turns out to be a real wizard who, with his indifference and compassion, heals their crippled souls.

He does not stay in the park when Mertsalov loses his temper: being a man of incredible kindness, he listens to him and immediately does everything possible to help. We do not know how many such acts Professor Pirogov committed during his life. But you can be sure that in his heart there lived a great love for people, indifference, which turned out to be the saving grace for the unfortunate family, which he extended at the most necessary moment.

Problems

A.I. Kuprin in this short story raises such universal problems as humanism and loss of hope.

Professor Pirogov personifies philanthropy and humanism. He is no stranger to the problems of strangers, and he takes helping his neighbor for granted. He does not need gratitude for what he has done, he does not need glory: the only important thing is that the people around him fight and do not lose faith in the best. This becomes his main wish to the Mertsalov family: “...and most importantly, never lose heart.” However, those around the heroes, their acquaintances and colleagues, neighbors and just passers-by - all turned out to be indifferent witnesses to someone else's grief. They did not even think that someone’s misfortune concerned them, they did not want to show humanity, thinking that they were not authorized to correct social injustice. This is the problem: no one cares about what is happening around them, except for one person.

Despair is also described in detail by the author. It poisons Mertsalov, depriving him of the will and strength to move on. Under the influence of sorrowful thoughts, he descends to a cowardly hope for death, while his family perishes from hunger. The feeling of hopelessness dulls all other feelings and enslaves the person, who is only able to feel sorry for himself.

Meaning

What is the main idea of A.I. Kuprin? The answer to this question is precisely contained in the phrase that Pirogov says as he leaves the Mertsalovs: never lose heart.

Even in the darkest times, you need to hope, search, and if you have absolutely no strength left, wait for a miracle. And it does happen. With the most ordinary people on one frosty, say, winter day: the hungry become full, the cold become warm, the sick become well. And these miracles are performed by people themselves with the kindness of their hearts - this is the main idea of the writer, who saw salvation from social cataclysms in simple mutual assistance.

What does it teach?

This small work makes you think about how important it is to be caring towards the people around us. In the bustle of our days, we often forget that somewhere very close by, neighbors, acquaintances, and compatriots are suffering; somewhere, poverty reigns and despair prevails. Entire families do not know how to earn their bread, and barely survive to receive pay. That’s why it’s so important not to pass by and be able to support: with a kind word or deed.

Helping one person, of course, will not change the world, but it will change one part of it, and the most important one for giving rather than accepting help. The donor is enriched much more than the petitioner, because he receives spiritual satisfaction from what he has done.

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