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The Mysterious Stranger: A Romance — обложка книги
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The Mysterious Stranger: A Romance

Автор Марк Твен
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Дата написания1970-01-01
Язык книгиen
Возрастное ограничение12+
Жанры
зарубежная классика

Описание

Книга описывает жизнь изолированной австрийской деревни 1590 года, конфликт между двумя священниками, вмешательство демонического странника, чьи разрушительные видения и вмешательство в судьбы людей раскрывают безразличие сверхъестественных сил к человеческим страданиям, а также критический взгляд на эксплуатацию труда, слухи о ведьмах и жестокую охоту на ведьму.

Главный конфликт / проблема

Конфликт между строгим и мягким подходом к религии в изолированной общине, а также вмешательство демонического странника, который разрушает и манипулирует реальностью, создавая конфликт, эксплуатацию и массовую жестокость.

Ключевые идеи

  • Изолированная средневековая деревня, где знания ограничены религиозными ценностями.
  • Конфликт между двумя священниками и влияние астролога на решения бисепса.
  • Судьба странника как всевидящего и безразличного наблюдателя
  • Разрушение замка как символ человеческой тщетности
  • Тайна золотого кошелька и её влияние на персонажей
  • Моральное чувство как критерий справедливости и его отсутствие у людей приводит к эксплуатации.
  • Сатана выступает как критик человеческой бездушности и одновременно как вмешательник в судьбы людей.
  • Слухи о ведьмах и колдовстве создают атмосферу страха и подозрений в деревне.
  • Мощь меньшинства над большинством
  • Сатана как наблюдатель и манипулятор
  • Жестокость толпы и её последствия

Вывод

Книга приводит к выводу, что сверхъестественные силы могут быть безразличны к человеческим страданиям, а человеческие общества часто подвержены конфликтам, эксплуатации и массовой жестокости, требуя критического осмысления и поиска более справедливых и гуманных подходов к жизни.

Кому полезна

  • Читатели, интересующиеся исторической прозой
  • Люди, изучающие религиозную критику и социальную справедливость
  • Те, кто интересуется мистикой и психологией толпы

Главные темы

  • Религиозная строгость и конфликт
  • Мораль и эксплуатация труда
  • Влияние сверхъестественных сил
  • Женщины-ведьмы и общественное давление
  • Безразличие и массовая жестокость

Персонажи

  • Сатана — Сатана выступает критиком человеческой морали, высмеивает гордость людей, вмешивается в судьбы животных и людей. Обладает властью над временем и расстоянием, использует смех как оружие, объясняет влияние меньшинства. Видит всё, не испытывает эмоций, относится к людям как к незначительным существам, способен разрушать и создавать иллюзии.
  • Отец Петр — Он проповедует о Божьей милости, но обвиняется астрологом в неприемлемых словах, что приводит к его отстранению. Пытается понять, откуда пришёл кошелёк с золотом, но остаётся в растерянности.
  • Отец Адольф — Он не боится дьявола, открыто говорит о нем и даже утверждает, что лично встретился с ним, вызывая у людей страх и уважение.
  • Маргет — Её жизнь ухудшается после отстранения отца Петра, и она сталкивается с бедностью и социальной изоляцией.
  • Герой — Главный персонаж, который описывает события и взаимодействует с Сатаной и Сеппи. Слушает и наблюдает за действиями Сатаны, но не может полностью понять происходящее.
  • Сеппи Вольмейер — Сеппи живет в деревне, рассказывает о пропаже Ганса и жестоком обращении с собакой.
  • Ганс Опперт — Ганс известен тем, что избивает свою собаку без причины.
  • Мегерт — Мегерт живёт в изоляции, сталкивается с подозрениями в колдовстве.
  • Урсула — Урсула живёт с слугой Готтфридом, чья семья связана с обвинениями в колдовстве.
  • Готтфрид Нара — Служит в доме Урсулы, семья связана с обвинениями в колдовстве.
  • Ведьма — Известна своими «чудодейственными» способами лечения, преследуется и повешена.
  • Кузнец — Обвиняет сатану в бросании камня, умирает при показе часов.

Цитаты

  • Он был единственным христианином, которого я когда-либо знал, от которого можно было действительно сказать, что он не боится дьявола.
  • Отец Петр имел врага и очень могущественного – астролога, который жил в старой башне над долиной.
  • Manners! Why, it is merely the truth, and truth is good manners; manners are a fiction.
  • Don't cry, Satan said; they were of no value.
  • «Моральное чувство — это то, что учит владельцев фабрики различать добро и зло, и вы видите результат.»
  • «Собака, раненая Гансом, разговаривает с Сатаной, и он восстанавливает её глаз.»
  • It was wonderful, the mastery Satan had over time and distance.
  • Satan burst out laughing.

Сводка по автору из Wikidata

1835–1910. Mark Twain. американский писатель, журналист и общественный деятель (1835–1910)

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"They are in your pockets," he said, and it was true. And they were of the best, too, and we ate them and wished we had more, though none of us said so.

"You will find them where those came from," he said, "and everything else your appetites call for; and you need not name the thing you wish; as long as I am with you, you have only to wish and find."

And he said true. There was never anything so wonderful and so interesting. Bread, cakes, sweets, nuts—whatever one wanted, it was there. He ate nothing himself, but sat and chatted, and did one curious thing after another to amuse us. He made a tiny toy squirrel out of clay, and it ran up a tree and sat on a limb overhead and barked down at us. Then he made a dog that was not much larger than a mouse, and it treed the squirrel and danced about the tree, excited and barking, and was as alive as any dog could be. It frightened the squirrel from tree to tree and followed it up until both were out of sight in the forest. He made birds out of clay and set them free, and they flew away, singing.

At last I made bold to ask him to tell us who he was.

"An angel," he said, quite simply, and set another bird free and clapped his hands and made it fly away.

A kind of awe fell upon us when we heard him say that, and we were afraid again; but he said we need not be troubled, there was no occasion for us to be afraid of an angel, and he liked us, anyway. He went on chatting as simply and unaffectedly as ever; and while he talked he made a crowd of little men and women the size of your finger, and they went diligently to work and cleared and leveled off a space a couple of yards square in the grass and began to build a cunning little castle in it, the women mixing the mortar and carrying it up the scaffoldings in pails on their heads, just as our work-women have always done, and the men laying the courses of masonry—five hundred of these toy people swarming briskly about and working diligently and wiping the sweat off their faces as natural as life. In the absorbing interest of watching those five hundred little people make the castle grow step by step and course by course, and take shape and symmetry, that feeling and awe soon passed away and we were quite comfortable and at home again. We asked if we might make some people, and he said yes, and told Seppi to make some cannon for the walls, and told Nikolaus to make some halberdiers, with breastplates and greaves and helmets, and I was to make some cavalry, with horses, and in allotting these tasks he called us by our names, but did not say how he knew them. Then Seppi asked him what his own name was, and he said, tranquilly, "Satan," and held out a chip and caught a little woman on it who was falling from the scaffolding and put her back where she belonged, and said, "She is an idiot to step backward like that and not notice what she is about."

It caught us suddenly, that name did, and our work dropped out of our hands and broke to pieces—a cannon, a halberdier, and a horse. Satan laughed, and asked what was the matter. I said, "Nothing, only it seemed a strange name for an angel." He asked why.

"Because it's—it's—well, it's his name, you know."

"Yes—he is my uncle."

He said it placidly, but it took our breath for a moment and made our hearts beat. He did not seem to notice that, but mended our halberdiers and things with a touch, handing them to us finished, and said, "Don't you remember?—he was an angel himself, once."

"Yes—it's true," said Seppi; "I didn't think of that."

"Before the Fall he was blameless."

"Yes," said Nikolaus, "he was without sin."

"It is a good family—ours," said Satan; "there is not a better. He is the only member of it that has ever sinned."

I should not be able to make any one understand how exciting it all was. You know that kind of quiver that trembles around through you when you are seeing something so strange and enchanting and wonderful that it is just a fearful joy to be alive and look at it; and you know how you gaze, and your lips turn dry and your breath comes short, but you wouldn't be anywhere but there, not for the world. I was bursting to ask one question—I had it on my tongue's end and could hardly hold it back—but I was ashamed to ask it; it might be a rudeness. Satan set an ox down that he had been making, and smiled up at me and said:

"It wouldn't be a rudeness, and I should forgive it if it was. Have I seen him? Millions of times. From the time that I was a little child a thousand years old I was his second favorite among the nursery angels of our blood and lineage—to use a human phrase—yes, from that time until the Fall, eight thousand years, measured as you count time."

"Eight—thousand!"

"Yes." He turned to Seppi, and went on as if answering something that was in Seppi's mind: "Why, naturally I look like a boy, for that is what I am. With us what you call time is a spacious thing; it takes a long stretch of it to grow an angel to full age." There was a question in my mind, and he turned to me and answered it, "I am sixteen thousand years old—counting as you count." Then he turned to Nikolaus and said: "No, the Fall did not affect me nor the rest of the relationship. It was only he that I was named for who ate of the fruit of the tree and then beguiled the man and the woman with it. We others are still ignorant of sin; we are not able to commit it; we are without blemish, and shall abide in that estate always. We—" Two of the little workmen were quarreling, and in buzzing little bumblebee voices they were cursing and swearing at each other; now came blows and blood; then they locked themselves together in a life-and-death struggle. Satan reached out his hand and crushed the life out of them with his fingers, threw them away, wiped the red from his fingers on his handkerchief, and went on talking where he had left off: "We cannot do wrong; neither have we any disposition to do it, for we do not know what it is."

It seemed a strange speech, in the circumstances, but we barely noticed that, we were so shocked and grieved at the wanton murder he had committed—for murder it was, that was its true name, and it was without palliation or excuse, for the men had not wronged him in any way. It made us miserable, for we loved him, and had thought him so noble and so beautiful and gracious, and had honestly believed he was an angel; and to have him do this cruel thing—ah, it lowered him so, and we had had such pride in him. He went right on talking, just as if nothing had happened, telling about his travels, and the interesting things he had seen in the big worlds of our solar systems and of other solar systems far away in the remotenesses of space, and about the customs of the immortals that inhabit them, somehow fascinating us, enchanting us, charming us in spite of the pitiful scene that was now under our eyes, for the wives of the little dead men had found the crushed and shapeless bodies and were crying over them, and sobbing and lamenting, and a priest was kneeling there with his hands crossed upon his breast, praying; and crowds and crowds of pitying friends were massed about them, reverently uncovered, with their bare heads bowed, and many with the tears running down—a scene which Satan paid no attention to until the small noise of the weeping and praying began to annoy him, then he reached out and took the heavy board seat out of our swing and brought it down and mashed all those people into the earth just as if they had been flies, and went on talking just the same. An angel, and kill a priest! An angel who did not know how to do wrong, and yet destroys in cold blood hundreds of helpless poor men and women who had never done him any harm! It made us sick to see that awful deed, and to think that none of those poor creatures was prepared except the priest, for none of them had ever heard a mass or seen a church. And we were witnesses; we had seen these murders done and it was our duty to tell, and let the law take its course.

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