Repetition of punctuation in compound, compound and non-union compound sentences - (Continued). Anton chekhov - a man in a case

Man in a case

Man in a case
The title of the story (1898) by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov (1860-1904).
The main character- a provincial teacher Belikov, afraid of any innovations, actions that are not allowed by the "authorities", as well as reality in general. Hence his favorite expression: "No matter how it comes out ..." influences ".
The author himself began to use this expression as a common noun. In a letter to his sister M. P. Chekhova, he wrote (November 19, 1899): “The November winds blow violently, whistle, tear roofs. I sleep in a hat, in shoes, under two blankets, with closed shutters - a man in a case. "
Jokingly ironically: a timid person, afraid of bad weather, drafts, unpleasant external influences.

encyclopedic Dictionary winged words and expressions. - M .: "Lokid-Press"... Vadim Serov. 2003.

Man in a case

This is the name of a person who is afraid of any innovations, drastic measures, very timid, like the teacher Belikov, depicted in the story of A.P. Chekhov's "Man in a Case" (1898). Belikov "was remarkable in that he always, even in very good weather, went out in galoshes and with an umbrella and certainly in a warm coat with cotton wool ... When a drama circle, or a reading room, or a tea room was allowed in the city, he shook his head and spoke softly : - It is, of course, so and so, all this is wonderful, but no matter what happens ".It is interesting to note that the expression "man in a case" was jokingly used by Chekhov himself; in a letter to M.P. Chekhova on November 19, 1899, he wrote: "The November winds blow violently, whistle, tear roofs. I sleep in a hat, in shoes, under two blankets, with closed shutters - a man in a case.".

Dictionary of winged words... Plutex. 2004.

See what "Man in a Case" is in other dictionaries:

CASE. MAN IN CASE. In Chekhov's story "The Man in a Case": "This man had a constant and irresistible desire to surround himself with a shell, to create for himself, so to speak, a case that would seclude him, protect him from external ... ... History of words

- "A MAN IN A CASE", USSR, SOVIET BELARUS, 1939, b / w, 84 min. Drama. Based on the story of the same name by A.P. Chekhov. Cast: Nikolai Khmelev (see KHMELEV Nikolai Pavlovich), Mikhail Zharov (see ZHAROV Mikhail Ivanovich), Olga Androvskaya (see ANDROVSKAYA Olga ... ... Encyclopedia of Cinema

This term has other meanings, see Man in a case (disambiguation). Man in a case (true incident) ... Wikipedia

Man in a case- Iron. (Man) living by his own narrow interests; fenced off from people, from life; inert and withdrawn. You are a man in a case, a cardboard shower, a file folder! (B. Lavrenev. A story about a simple thing). He reminds her in some way of a Chekhovian man in ... ... Phraseological dictionary of the Russian literary language

Man in a case- wings. sl. This is the name of a man who is afraid of any innovations, abrupt measures, very timid, like the teacher Belikov, depicted in the story of A. P. Chekhov "The Man in a Case" (1898). Belikov “was remarkable in that he was always, even in a very good ... Universal Additional Practical Explanatory Dictionary of I. Mostitsky

Spread. Disapproved. About a man who closed himself in a circle of narrow philistine, philistine interests, fenced off from real life, afraid of innovation and change. / i> According to the title of the story by A.P. Chekhov (1898). BMS 1998, 619; BTS, 1470; FM 2002, 609; ... A large dictionary of Russian sayings

man in a case- about someone who has closed himself in a circle of narrow, philistine interests, fenced off from real life, is afraid of innovations and changes. The expression goes back to the story of the same name by A.P. Chekhov. The main character of this work is the teacher of ancient languages ​​Belikov, ... ... Phraseology reference

man in a case- About someone who is locked in a circle of narrow, philistine interests, is afraid of any innovations. From the title of the story by A.P. Chekhov ... Dictionary of many expressions

"Man in a Case"- A MAN IN A CASE story by A.P. Chekhov (1898), ch. the hero is afraid of life and tries to hide from it in a case, a shell of prescriptions and stereotypes ... Russian humanitarian encyclopedic dictionary

This term has other meanings, see Man in a Case. The man in the case ... Wikipedia

Books

• A Man in a Case, A. P. Chekhov, The hero of the story "A Man in a Case" is Belikov, a school teacher of the Greek language. His main concern is "as if something might come of it." With the advent of the Gorodenov teacher Mikhail ... Category: Classical and contemporary prose Publisher: Children's Literature Publishing House,
• A man in a case, Anton Chekhov, “At the very edge of the village of Mironositskoye, in the barn of the elder Prokofy, late hunters settled down for the night. There were only two of them: the veterinarian Ivan Ivanovich and the gymnasium teacher Burkin. Do ... Category: Stories Series:

Man in a case

On the very edge of the village of Mironositskoye, in the barn of the elder Prokofy, the belated hunters settled down for the night. There were only two of them: the veterinarian Ivan Ivanovich and the gymnasium teacher Burkin. Ivan Ivanitch had a rather strange double surname- Chimsha-Himalayan, which did not suit him at all, and in the whole province they called him simply by name and patronymic; he lived near the city in a stud farm and has now come hunting in order to breathe clean air. The teacher of the gymnasium, Burkin, visited Counts P. every summer and had long been his own man in this area.

We didn’t sleep. Ivan Ivanitch, a tall, thin old man with a long mustache, was sitting outside at the entrance, smoking a pipe; it was lit by the moon. Burkin lay inside in the hay, and he was not visible in the darkness.

Told different stories... Among other things, they said that the headman's wife, Mavra, a healthy and not stupid woman, had never been anywhere further than her native village in her entire life, had never seen either the city or railroad, and in the last ten years I have been sitting at the stove and only went outside at night.

What's so surprising about that! - said Burkin. - There are quite a few people in this world who are lonely by nature, who, like an exfoliating crab or a snail, try to go into their shells. Perhaps there is a phenomenon of atavism, a return to the time when the human ancestor was not yet a social animal and lived alone in his den, or maybe this is just one of the varieties of human character - who knows? I am not a natural scientist and it is not my business to touch upon such questions; I just want to say that people like Mavra are not uncommon. Why, it's not far to search, two months ago a certain Belikov, a teacher of the Greek language, my friend, died in our town. You've heard of him, of course. He was remarkable in that, even in very good weather, he always went out in galoshes and with an umbrella, and certainly in a warm coat with cotton wool. He had an umbrella in a case, and a watch in a case made of gray suede, and when he took out a penknife to sharpen a pencil, he also had a knife in a case; and the face, too, seemed to be in a case, since he hid it all the time in a raised collar. He wore dark glasses, a sweatshirt, covered his ears with cotton wool, and when he got on a cab, he ordered to lift the top. In a word, this person had a constant and irresistible desire to surround himself with a shell, to create for himself, so to speak, a case that would isolate him, protect him from external influences. Reality irritated him, frightened him, kept him in constant anxiety, and, perhaps, in order to justify this timidity of his, his disgust for the present, he always praised the past and what had never happened; and the ancient languages ​​that he taught were for him, in essence, the same galoshes and an umbrella where he hid from real life.

Oh, how resounding, how beautiful the Greek language! he said with a sweet expression; and, as if to prove his words, screwing up his eyes and raising his finger, he said: - Anthropos!

And Belikov also tried to hide his thought in a case. For him, only circulars and newspaper articles were clear in which anything was forbidden. When a circular forbade the disciples to go out into the street after nine o'clock in the evening, or some article forbade carnal love, this was clear to him, definitely; forbidden - and that's it. In resolution and permitting, there was always an element of doubtfulness hidden for him, something unsaid and vague. When a drama circle, or a reading room, or a teahouse was allowed in the city, he shook his head and spoke quietly:

It is, of course, so and so, all this is wonderful, but no matter what happens.

All kinds of violations, deviations, deviations from the rules brought him into despondency, although, it would seem, what did he care about? If any of the comrades was late for the prayer service, or there were rumors about some leprosy of the schoolchildren, or saw a class lady late in the evening with an officer, then he was very worried and kept talking, as if something might turn out. And at pedagogical councils, he simply oppressed us with his caution, suspiciousness and his purely boxy considerations about the fact that in men's and women's gymnasiums young people behave badly, make a lot of noise in classes - oh, no matter how it gets to the authorities, oh , no matter how something happened - and what if Petrov were excluded from the second grade, and Yegorov from the fourth, it would be very good. And what? With his sighs, whining, his dark glasses on his pale, small face - you know, a small face, like a ferret's - he crushed us all, and we yielded, weakened Petrov and Yegorov's score on behavior, put them under arrest and in the end excluded both Petrov and Egorov. He had a strange habit of walking around our apartments. He will come to the teacher, sit down and be silent and as if looking out for something. He will sit that way, silently, for an hour or two and leave. He called it "maintaining good relations with comrades," and, obviously, it was hard for him to go to us and sit there, and he came to us only because he considered it his comradely duty. We teachers were afraid of him. And even the director was afraid. Come on, our teachers are a thinking people, deeply decent, brought up on Turgenev and Shchedrin, but this little man, who always walked in galoshes and with an umbrella, held the entire gymnasium in his hands for fifteen years! But what about the gymnasium? The whole city! Our ladies didn’t put on home plays on Saturdays, they were afraid that he might find out; and the clergy were embarrassed to eat meat and play cards with him. Under the influence of people like Belikov, over the past ten to fifteen years, people in our city have become afraid of everything. They are afraid to speak loudly, to send letters, to make acquaintances, to read books, they are afraid to help the poor, to teach literacy ...

Ivan Ivanitch, wanting to say something, coughed, but first he lit his pipe, looked at the moon, and then he said with an ordering:

Yes. Thinking, decent, read both Shchedrin and Turgenev, various Boklei and so on, but they obeyed, they endured ... That is what it is.

SPRING CAME

The old young grass, crawling out with needles, turned green, the buds of viburnum, currant and sticky alcoholic birch puffed up, and an exposed, flying bee began to hum on the vine sprinkled with gold. Invisible larks flooded over the velvet of greenery and icy stubble, lapwings cried over the bottoms and marshes that had filled with brown unclimbing water, and cranes and geese flew high with spring cackling. The peeled cattle roared on the pastures, only in places that had not yet molted, bow-legged lambs began to play around the bleating mothers losing the wave, the fast-footed guys ran along the paths drying out with the prints of bare feet, the cheerful voices of women with canvases crackled on the pond, and the axes of muzhiks pounded in the yards. and harrows. The real spring has come. (102 words)

According to L. Tolstoy.

The eagle has built its nest on the big road, away from the sea, and brought the children out.

Once people were working near a tree, and an eagle flew up to the nest with a large fish in its claws. People saw a fish, surrounded the tree, began to shout and throw stones at the eagle.

The eagle dropped the fish, the people picked it up and left.

The eagle sat on the edge of the nest, and the eagles raised their heads and began to squeak: they asked for food.

The eagle was tired and could not fly to the sea again, he went down to the nest, covered the eagles with his wings, caressed them, straightened their feathers and seemed to ask them to wait a little. But the more he caressed them, the louder they squeaked.

Then the eagle flew away from them and sat on the top branch of the tree.

The eagles began to whistle and squeal even more plaintively.

Then the eagle suddenly screamed loudly himself, spread its wings and flew heavily towards the sea. He returned only late in the evening, he flew quietly and low above the ground; in his claws there was again a large fish.

L. Tolstoy.

The night had just embraced the sky, but Bulba always went to bed early. He sprawled on the carpet, covered himself with a sheep's sheepskin coat, because the night air was quite fresh and because Bulba liked to hide warmly when he was at home. He soon began to snore, and the whole court followed him; everything that lay in its various corners snored and began to sing; first of all, the watchman fell asleep, because he got drunk most of all for the arrival of the panic. One poor mother did not sleep. She clung to the head of her dear sons, who were lying nearby; she combed their young, carelessly tousled curls with a comb and moistened them with her tears; she looked at them all, looked with all her senses, all turned into one sight and could not get enough of it. (…) She sat until the daylight, was not at all tired and inwardly wished that the night would last as long as possible. (128 words.)

According to N. Gogol.

The snow has not yet melted from the ground, but spring is already asking for the soul. If you have ever recovered from a serious illness, then you know the blissful state when you freeze from vague premonitions and smile for no reason. Apparently, nature is now experiencing the same state.

The ground is cold, mud and snow squelching underfoot, but how all around is cheerful, affectionate, welcoming! The air is so clear and transparent that if you climb the dovecote or the bell tower, you seem to see the entire universe from end to end. The sun shines brightly, and its rays, playing and smiling, swim in the puddles with the sparrows. The river puffs up and darkens, it has already woken up and will begin to roar not today or tomorrow.

The trees are bare, but they already live, breathe.

At such a time, it is good to drive dirty water in ditches with a broom or a shovel, launch boats on the water or hammer stubborn ice with his heels.

Yes, all is well this happy time of the year. (140 words.)

According to A. Chekhov.

MAN IN CASE

About two months ago a certain Belikov, a teacher of the Greek language, my friend, died in our town. You've heard of him, of course. He was remarkable in that, even in very good weather, he always went out in galoshes and with an umbrella, and certainly in a warm coat with cotton wool. And he had an umbrella in a case, and a watch in a case made of gray suede, and when he took out a penknife to sharpen a pencil, he had the knife in a case, and his face, too, seemed to be in a case, since he hid it in a raised collar. (…) In a word, this person had a constant and irresistible desire to surround himself with a shell, to create for himself, so to speak, a case that would seclude him, protect him from external influences. Reality irritated him, frightened him, kept him in constant anxiety, and, perhaps, in order to justify this timidity of his, his aversion to the present, he always praised the past and what had never happened. (150 words.)

FLOOR ON WHITE

The Belaya River was visible from our porch, and I was looking forward to when it would open. (…) And, finally, this longed-for day and hour has come! Yevseich hastily glanced into my nursery and in an alarmingly joyful voice said: "White has started!" Mother allowed, and in one minute (...) I was already standing on the porch and eagerly followed with my eyes as a huge strip of blue, dark, and sometimes yellow ice... The transverse road had already drifted far away, and some unfortunate black cow was running along it, like a madman, from one bank to the other. The women and girls standing beside me accompanied with plaintive exclamations every unsuccessful movement of the running animal, whose roar reached my ears, and I felt very sorry for him. At a turn, the river bent behind a steep cliff, and the road and a black cow running along it disappeared behind it. Suddenly two dogs appeared on the ice; but their fussy jumps aroused not pity, but laughter in the people around me, for everyone was sure that the dogs would not drown, but jump over or swim to the shore. (161 words.)

S. Aksakov.

BEFORE THE DEATH OF THE CLIPPER "PEARL"

The clipper was hit hard against the stones, and the car (...) could not budge him. It was evident that the "Pearl" sat down tightly.

Everyone was depressed.

The wind was fresh and the waves swirled around the clipper. All around is pitch darkness.

An endless ten minutes passed, and from below they made it known that the leak was increasing. All the pumps were in operation, but the water nevertheless kept coming. The situation was critical, and there was no way to get out of it. And there was no one to expect help.

However, just in case, the guns were loaded, and shots rang out every five minutes. (...)

But no one seemed to have heard these shots. (...)

Despite the work of all the pumps, the clipper was gradually filled with water through the holes received from impacts on the stones of the ridge in which it sat. There was nothing to think about saving the clipper, and therefore, at the command of the captain, measures were taken to save people and to provide them with provisions. (150 words.)

According to K. Stanyukovich.

1. The senior officer accepted the command, as is always the case with an emergency, and as soon as his loud, abrupt command words were heard, the sailors began to execute them with a kind of feverish impetuosity. 2. Less than seven minutes later, almost all the sails (...) were removed, the "Bully" lay in the drift, (...) and the longboat with sixteen oarsmen And the officer at the helm was lowered into the water. 3. But in those seven minutes, while the clipper stopped, he managed to walk more than a mile, and the fragment of the mast with the man could not be seen through binoculars. 4. By the compass, we nevertheless noticed the direction in which the mast was located, and in this direction the longboat raked out, moving away from the clipper. 5. And the captain walked over the bridge, now and then stopping to look at the approaching launch. Finally, he looked through the binoculars and although he did not see the rescued person, by the calmly cheerful face of the officer (...) he decided that he had been rescued on a launch. 6. The boy was immediately taken to the infirmary, wiped dry, put on a bed, covered with blankets, and the doctor began to look after him. (146 words.)

K. Stanyukovich.

Autumn was amazing.

She was weary of the heat, which did not know tired. Mighty dropping their branches weighed down with fruits, the trees stood numb, and from them, as from withering bouquets, came the spicy smells of fresh hay heated by the sun.

The vegetable gardens breathed a spicy stupidity. Smells hovered like midges over everything that lived. The birds fell silent, the winds died down, there was a sultry sunny stupor. The earth did not lose heat until dawn. A crimson veil hung over the horizon day and night, as if something was burning far beyond the sea without burning up. At night, overripe melons burst with a deafening crack, and the damp mess of their seeds splashed with wasteful force, vaguely recalling the happy season of fruit-picking, love, weddings and pre-winter rest.

Now, when the flowers had faded, the roofs of the huts delighted the eye. Early pumpkins of orange and pink color, bright yellow melons, red peppers, dark bloody spots of dogwood scattered on canvas, coral hills of rose hips and dull blue thorns, green-yellow and black figs and dark brown pomegranate clumps adorned the roof slopes ... (145 words.)

According to P. Pavlenko.

LITTLE HUNTER

Pavel was only six years old when he caught the first silver grayling and (...) brought home a bucket where the fish splashed. After this success, it could not be torn from the water.

The boy shivered from the morning chill and impatience familiar to every fisherman, when a dense fog dissipated over the channel and the sun slightly touched the water and coastal bushes with a pink light. During these hours the fish “melts”, plays, jumps out of the water after the midge, and before the fishermen have time to throw the line, it already bites.

And at night (...) there is net fishing. Ion (grandfather) stands on the shore and holds the horses, and Pavlik sails in a boat, and the net stretches after him. They make a fire near the water and fry fish on a stick. Fat burbots come from the depths towards the light of the fire. There are so many fish that the old man and the boy together cannot carry the prey and call the guys for help.

When Paul entered the fifth grade, Jonah began to take him with him and on the hunt. (146 words.)

M. Postupalskaya.

On the very edge of the village of Mironositskoye, in the shed of the elder Prokofy, the late hunters settled down for the night. There were only two of them: the veterinarian Ivan Ivanovich and the gymnasium teacher Burkin. Ivan Ivanitch had a rather strange, double surname - Chimsha-Himalayan, which did not suit him at all, and in the whole province he was called simply by his first name and patronymic; he lived near the city in a stud farm and has now come hunting in order to breathe clean air. The teacher of the gymnasium, Burkin, visited Counts P. every summer and had long been his own man in this area.

We didn’t sleep. Ivan Ivanitch, a tall, thin old man with a long mustache, was sitting outside at the entrance, smoking a pipe; it was lit by the moon. Burkin lay inside in the hay, and he was not visible in the darkness.

They told different stories. By the way, they said that the headman's wife, Mavra, a healthy and intelligent woman, had never been anywhere farther than her native village in her entire life, had never seen either the city or the railway, and in the last ten years she had been sitting at the stove and only went outside at night.

- What's so surprising! - said Burkin. - There are many people in this world who are lonely by nature, who, like a hermit crab or a snail, try to go into their shells. Perhaps there is a phenomenon of atavism, a return to the time when the human ancestor was not yet a social animal and lived alone in his den, or maybe this is just one of the varieties of human character - who knows? I am not a natural scientist, and it is not my business to touch upon such questions; I just want to say that people like Mavra are not uncommon. Why, it's not far to search, two months ago a certain Belikov, a teacher of the Greek language, my friend, died in our town. You've heard of him, of course. He was remarkable in that, even in very good weather, he always went out in galoshes and with an umbrella, and certainly in a warm coat with cotton wool. He had an umbrella in a case, and a watch in a case made of gray suede, and when he took out a penknife to sharpen a pencil, he also had a knife in a case; and the face, too, seemed to be in a cover, as he kept hiding it in a raised collar all the time. He wore dark glasses, a sweatshirt, covered his ears with cotton wool, and when he got on a cab, he ordered to lift the top. In a word, this person had a constant and irresistible desire to surround himself with a shell, to create for himself, so to speak, a case that would isolate him, protect him from external influences. Reality irritated him, frightened him, kept him in constant anxiety, and, perhaps, in order to justify this timidity of his, his disgust for the present, he always praised the past and what had never happened; and the ancient languages ​​that he taught were for him, in essence, the same galoshes and an umbrella where he hid from real life.

- Oh, how sonorous, how beautiful the Greek language! He said with a sweet expression; and, as if to prove his words, he screwed up his eyes and, raising his finger, said: - Anthropos!

And Belikov also tried to hide his thought in a case.

For him, only circulars and newspaper articles were clear in which anything was forbidden. When a circular forbade the disciples to go out into the street after nine o'clock in the evening, or some article forbade carnal love, this was clear to him, definitely; forbidden - and that's it. In resolution and permitting, there was always an element of doubtfulness hidden for him, something unsaid and vague. When a drama circle, or a reading room, or a teahouse was allowed in the city, he shook his head and spoke quietly:

- It is, of course, so and so, all this is wonderful, but no matter what happens.

All kinds of violations, deviations, deviations from the rules brought him into despondency, although, it would seem, what did he care about? If any of the comrades was late for the prayer service, or there were rumors about some leprosy of the school students, or saw a class lady late in the evening with an officer, then he was very worried and kept saying that something might not work out. And at pedagogical councils, he simply oppressed us with his caution, suspiciousness and his purely boxy considerations about the fact that in men's and women's gymnasiums young people behave badly, make a lot of noise in classes - oh, no matter how it gets to the authorities, oh , no matter how something happened - and what if Petrov were excluded from the second grade, and Yegorov from the fourth, it would be very good. And what? With his sighs, whining, his dark glasses on his pale, small face - you know, a small face, like a ferret's - he crushed us all, and we yielded, weakened Petrov and Yegorov's score on behavior, put them under arrest and in the end excluded both Petrov and Egorov. He had a strange habit of walking around our apartments. He will come to the teacher, sit down and be silent, and as if looking out for something. He will sit that way, silently, for an hour or two and leave. He called it “to maintain good relations with comrades,” and, obviously, it was hard for him to go to us and sit there, and he came to us only because he considered it his comradely duty. We teachers were afraid of him. And even the director was afraid. Come on, our teachers are a thinking people, deeply decent, brought up on Turgenev and Shchedrin, but this little man, who always walked in galoshes and with an umbrella, held the entire gymnasium in his hands for fifteen years! But what about the gymnasium? The whole city! Our ladies didn’t put on home plays on Saturdays, they were afraid that he might find out; and the clergy were embarrassed to eat meat and play cards with him. Under the influence of people like Belikov, over the past ten to fifteen years, people in our city have become afraid of everything. They are afraid to speak loudly, to send letters, to make acquaintances, to read books, they are afraid to help the poor, to teach literacy ...

The heroes of what works of Russian classics lead a "case" lifestyle and in what way are they different or similar to Chekhov's Belikov?

On the very edge of the village of Mironositskoye, in the barn of the elder Prokofy, the belated hunters settled down for the night. There were only two of them: the veterinarian Ivan Ivanovich and the gymnasium teacher Burkin. Ivan Ivanitch had a rather strange, double surname - Chimsha-Himalayan, which did not suit him at all, and in the whole province he was called simply by his first name and patronymic; he lived near the city in a stud farm and has now come hunting in order to breathe clean air. The teacher of the gymnasium, Burkin, visited Counts P. every summer and had long been his own man in this area.

We didn’t sleep. Ivan Ivanitch, a tall, thin old man with a long mustache, was sitting outside at the entrance, smoking a pipe; it was lit by the moon. Burkin lay inside in the hay, and he was not visible in the dark.

They told different stories. Among other things, they said that the headman's wife, Mavra, a healthy and intelligent woman, in her entire life had never been anywhere farther than her native village, had never seen either the city or the railway, and in the last ten years she had been sitting at the stove and nothing more. she went out at night.

- What's so surprising! - said Burkin. - There are many people in this world who are lonely by nature, who, like a hermit crab or a snail, try to go into their shells. Perhaps there is a phenomenon of atavism, a return to the time when the human ancestor was not yet a social animal and lived alone in his den, or maybe this is just one of the varieties of human character - who knows? I am not a natural scientist and it is not my business to touch upon such questions; I just want to say that people like Mavra are not uncommon. Why, it's not far to search, two months ago a certain Belikov, a teacher of the Greek language, my friend, died in our town. You've heard of him, of course. He was remarkable in that he always, even in very good weather, went out in galoshes and with an umbrella, and certainly in a warm coat with cotton wool. He had an umbrella in a case, and a watch in a case made of gray suede, and when he took out a penknife to sharpen a pencil, he also had a knife in a case; and the face, too, seemed to be in a case, since he hid it all the time in a raised collar. He wore dark glasses, a sweatshirt, covered his ears with cotton wool, and when he got on a cab, he ordered to lift the top. In a word, this person had a constant and irresistible desire to surround himself with a shell, to create for himself, so to speak, a case that would isolate him, protect him from external influences. Reality irritated him, frightened him, kept him in constant anxiety, and, perhaps, in order to justify this timidity of his, his aversion to the present, he always praised the past and what had never happened; and the ancient languages ​​that he taught were for him, in essence, the same galoshes and an umbrella where he hid from real life.

(A.P. Chekhov, "Man in a Case")

Explanation.

Many Russian writers in their works portrayed heroes leading a "case" lifestyle. For example, the hero of the tale by Mikhail Evgrafovich Saltykov-Shchedrin “ Wise minnow"Is very reminiscent of Belikov. Both the gudgeon and Belikov are trying to protect themselves from the outside world, their life principle has become the words: "No matter what happens." Gudgeon "lived - trembled, and died - trembled", and Belikov only in the coffin looked completely satisfied with his next case. The heroes of both works die. This proves that "sheathing" does not protect, but leads to inevitable death.

Another hero leading a "case lifestyle" is Plyushkin from the poem by N.V. Gogol's "Dead Souls". Plyushkin - "a hole in humanity." He is stingy, leads a reclusive lifestyle, unsociable. All this makes him look like the hero of Chekhov's story.

And Gogol, and Saltykov-Shchedrin, and Chekhov condemn their heroes: you can't live like that.