More and more often, I began to think about the fact that in the modern world, with its crazy rhythm, harsh conditions and cynical people, it is difficult for a weak-willed, soft-spoken and simply modest person to survive. In this text A.P. Chekhov raises the problem of the “little man”.

The classic describes an incident from the life of a simple home teacher who was faced with the rudeness, injustice and cruelty of a person whose ambulance he needed. Yegor Alekseich was sick and came to the pharmacy for medicine, where he came across a “ironed gentleman” who, having met the hero with cold and even arrogant indifference, made him wait for the medicine for an hour. The author draws our attention to the fact that Svoykin tried to hurry the pharmacist and explain his condition to him, but he completely ignored the teacher, “as if he had not heard.” Having found out the price of the medicine, Yegor Alekseich realized that he did not have that much money with him and asked for a medicine so important for his health to be provided on credit - to which he received a decisive refusal. Later, the teacher no longer had the strength to return for the medicine - “the illness took its toll.”

A.P. Chekhov believes that the problem of a “little” man is that the people around him do not take into account his desires, opinions, condition - and he, unfortunately, is not able to stand up for himself.

I completely agree with the opinion of the great writer and also believe that “little people” are the result of social injustice, harsh realities in which there is no place for kindness, mutual understanding and mutual respect - only cruelty, arrogance and selfishness. The only problem with such people is that they are not able to submit to the general mass and become like everyone else - just as they are not able to fight for their lives and defend their honor and dignity.

In the story by N.V. Gogol's "The Overcoat" also raises the problem of the "little man". The main character, Akaki Akakievich, is a simple titular adviser, whose life consists only of monotonous work and small everyday joys - the hero could not afford anything more, but often endured ridicule and bullying from young officials from the department. One day, the hero barely saved up some money for a new overcoat and was immensely happy - his old dream came true, but all this did not last long: the overcoat was stolen, and none of those whom the poor hero turned to considered this a problem worth at least any - some attention. Akaki Akakievich faced complete indifference and cruelty and could not survive it.

A.P. Chekhov raised a similar problem more than once throughout his work - the story “The Man in a Case” was no exception. It also describes the life of a “little man”, but this time the main character is not insulted, humiliated or offended - he is satisfied with his position, his small world, his “case”, in which Belikov has nothing to fear. And what, exactly, shouldn’t he like? Having become accustomed to the role of an insignificant, suspicious, petty personality, Belikov is content with his small joys and feels happiness from the fact that he may not see those around him. He does not suffer from attacks from the outside world only because he has isolated himself from it with one large case, but this does not stop Belikov from being a “little man” - he is still unable to be a socially active person capable of standing up for himself.

Thus, we can conclude that in our world there are many such “little people” who are not able to live a real life, but are only able to close themselves in their own case. And both society and the person himself are to blame for this problem - therefore, no matter how sorry we feel for such Akakiev Akakievichs, it is important to remember that no one except ourselves is capable of changing our lives.

Essay based on the text:

What can a heartless attitude towards others lead to? This is the question that A.P. Chekhov is thinking about.

Discussing this problem, the author talks about an incident that happened in a pharmacy with home teacher Yegor Alekseevich Svoikin. A.P. Chekhov writes with indignation about the careless, indifferent attitude of the pharmacist towards his sick client. The man, who was experiencing “brokenness” and “dragging pain,” had to wait a whole hour until the arrogant pharmacist, unable to sympathize with the grief of others, completed his work. The writer concludes with great disappointment: “a holy cause fell into the hands of... an insensitive ironing figure,” whose heartlessness led to serious consequences.

I completely share the point of view of A.P. Chekhov. Indeed, indifference and negligence can cause pain to the people around us and lead to serious consequences. Russian classics have written about this more than once.

I remember Latunsky, the hero of M. A. Bulgakov’s novel “The Master and Margarita,” whose callous, rude criticism of the Master’s work became the cause of a real tragedy - the madness of a vulnerable writer. This is how human heartlessness and indifference influenced the fate of Bulgakov’s character.

M. Gorky also believed that callousness and negligence are unacceptable towards the people around us, because they can cause pain. In his notes he wrote: “Do not be indifferent, for indifference is deadly to the human soul.”

Thus, I can conclude that a heartless, callous attitude towards others can lead to tragedy.

Text by A.P. Chekhov:

(1) It was late evening. (2) Home teacher Yegor Alekseich Svoikin, in order not to waste time, went straight from the doctor to the pharmacy.

(3) Standing behind a yellow, shiny desk was a tall gentleman with his head thrown back solidly, a stern face and well-groomed sideburns, apparently a pharmacist. (4) Starting from the small bald spot on his head and ending with his long pink nails, everything on this man was carefully ironed, cleaned and as if licked. (5) His frowning eyes looked down on the newspaper lying on the desk. (6) He read.

(7) Svoykin went up to the desk and handed the ironed gentleman the recipe. (8) He, without looking at him, took the recipe, read to the point in the newspaper and, making a slight half-turn of his head to the right, muttered:

It will be ready in an hour.

- (9) Isn’t it possible to hurry up? - asked Svoykin. - (10) It is absolutely impossible for me to wait.

(11) The pharmacist did not answer. (12) Svoykin sat down on the sofa and began to wait.

(13) Svoykin was sick. (14) His mouth was burning, there were nagging pains in his legs and arms, and foggy images like clouds and shrouded human figures wandered through his heavy head. (15) Frustration and brain fog took over his body more and more, and in order to cheer himself up, he decided to talk to the pharmacist.

-(16) I must be starting to have a fever. (17) My other happiness is that I got sick in the capital! (18) God forbid such a misfortune occurs in a village where there are no doctors or pharmacies!

(19) The pharmacist did not respond to Svoykin’s appeal to him either in word or movement, as if he had not heard.

(20) Having not received an answer to his question, Svoykin began to examine the stern, arrogantly learned physiognomy of the pharmacist.

“(21) Strange people, by God! - he thought. - (22) In a healthy state, you don’t notice these dry, callous faces, but when you get sick, like me now, you’ll be horrified that a holy cause has fallen into the hands of this insensitive ironing figure.”

-(23) Get it! - the pharmacist finally said, without looking at Svoikin. - (24) Put a ruble and six kopecks into the cash register!

-(25) A ruble and six kopecks? - Svoykin muttered, embarrassed. - (26) And I only have one ruble... (27) What can I do?

-(28) I don’t know! - the pharmacist said, starting to read the newspaper.

- (29) In that case, you'll excuse me... (30) I'll bring you six kopecks tomorrow or send you in the end.

- (31) This is impossible! (32) Go home, bring six kopecks, then you’ll get your medicine!
- (33) Svoykin left the pharmacy and went to his home. (34) While the teacher got to his room, he sat down to rest about five times. (35) Arriving at his place and finding several copper coins in the table, he sat down on the bed to rest. (3b) Some force pulled his head towards the pillow. (37) He lay down, as if for a minute. (38) Foggy images in the form of clouds and shrouded figures began to cloud my consciousness. (39) For a long time he remembered that he needed to go to the pharmacy, for a long time he forced himself to get up, but the illness took its toll. (40) Coppers spilled out of his fist, and the patient began to dream that he had already gone to the pharmacy and was again talking with the pharmacist there.

-(According to A.P. Chekhov*)

(1) It was late evening. (2) Home teacher Yegor Alekseich Svoikin, in order not to waste time, went straight from the doctor to the pharmacy.

(3) Standing behind a yellow, shiny desk was a tall gentleman with his head thrown back solidly, a stern face and well-groomed sideburns, apparently a pharmacist. (4) Starting from the small bald spot on his head and ending with his long pink nails, everything on this man was carefully ironed, cleaned and as if licked. (5) His frowning eyes looked down on the newspaper lying on the desk. (6) He read.

(7) Svoykin went up to the desk and handed the ironed gentleman the recipe. (8) He, without looking at him, took the recipe, read to the point in the newspaper and, making a slight half-turn of his head to the right, muttered:

It will be ready in an hour.

- (9) Isn’t it possible to hurry up? - asked Svoykin. - (10) It is absolutely impossible for me to wait.

(11) The pharmacist did not answer. (12) Svoykin sat down on the sofa and began to wait.

(13) Svoykin was sick. (14) His mouth was burning, there were nagging pains in his legs and arms, and foggy images like clouds and shrouded human figures wandered through his heavy head. (15) Frustration and brain fog took over his body more and more, and in order to cheer himself up, he decided to talk to the pharmacist.

- (16) I must be starting to have a fever. (17) My other happiness is that I got sick in the capital! (18) God forbid such a misfortune occurs in a village where there are no doctors or pharmacies!

(19) The pharmacist did not respond to Svoykin’s appeal to him either in word or movement, as if he had not heard.

(20) Having not received an answer to his question, Svoykin began to examine the stern, arrogantly learned physiognomy of the pharmacist.

“(21) Strange people, by God! - he thought. - (22) In a healthy state, you don’t notice these dry, callous faces, but when you get sick, like me now, you’ll be horrified that a holy cause has fallen into the hands of this insensitive ironing figure.”

- (23) Get it! - the pharmacist finally said, without looking at Svoikin. - (24) Put a ruble and six kopecks into the cash register!

- (25) A ruble and six kopecks? - Svoykin muttered, embarrassed. - (26) And I only have one ruble... (27) What can I do?

- (28) I don’t know! - the pharmacist said, starting to read the newspaper.

- (29) In that case, you'll excuse me... (30) I'll bring you six kopecks tomorrow or send you in the end.

- (31) This is impossible! (32) Go home, bring six kopecks, then you’ll get your medicine!

- (33) Svoykin left the pharmacy and went to his home. (34) While the teacher got to his room, he sat down to rest about five times. (35) Arriving at his place and finding several copper coins in the table, he sat down on the bed to rest. (3b) Some force pulled his head towards the pillow. (37) He lay down, as if for a minute. (38) Foggy images in the form of clouds and shrouded figures began to cloud my consciousness. (39) For a long time he remembered that he needed to go to the pharmacy, for a long time he forced himself to get up, but the illness took its toll. (40) Coppers spilled out of his fist, and the patient began to dream that he had already gone to the pharmacy and was again talking with the pharmacist there.

- (According to A.P. Chekhov*)

- * Anton Pavlovich Chekhov (1860-1904) - an outstanding Russian writer, a classic of world literature.

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Every day we communicate with dozens of people and often offend them without even thinking about it. What can such indifference lead to? And why can’t you be deaf to other people’s problems? This is exactly what A.P. Chekhov thinks about in his story “In the Pharmacy.”

The moral problem raised in the text has been relevant for a long time. A.S. Pushkin, N.V. Gogol, and A.I. Kuprin turned to her. In the above text, A.P. Chekhov reveals the problem of indifference and indifference to the grief of others, using various literary techniques. With the help of details (“a solidly thrown back head”, “frowning eyes”) and gradation (“everything on this man was carefully ironed, cleaned and as if licked”), he demonstrates a portrait of a person indifferent to everything. The author shows how the pharmacist not only refused to help the sick teacher (he did not agree to wait for six kopecks, which the teacher was not enough), but also did not show the slightest respect for him (he remained silent when they tried to talk to him; he took the recipe only when he “read it to the point in the newspaper”). In addition, A.P. Chekhov also depicts the tragic consequences devil-may-care attitude towards other people's problems, because the patient, when he came home for money, lay down and “coppers poured out of (his) fist.”

Although the author’s position is not expressed explicitly, the logic of the text convinces the reader that one cannot be an “insensitive ironing figure” like a pharmacist from a pharmacy. The habit of looking down on people, “with your head thrown firmly back,” can lead to disastrous consequences.

I think people really should be more humane. Indifference shown to a person who needs your help does not pass without a trace.

As a convincing argument, one can cite the behavior of Captain Minsky from A.S. Pushkin’s story “The Station Warden.” When Minsky falls in love with the daughter of stationmaster Samson Vyrin, he immediately takes her with him to St. Petersburg, without even consulting Dunyasha’s father.

Criteria

• 1 of 1 K1 Formulation of source text problems
• 2 of 3 K2

At the pharmacy

It was late evening. Home teacher Yegor Alekseich Svoikin, in order not to waste time, went straight from the doctor to the pharmacy.

“It’s like you’re going to a rich kept woman or a railroad worker,” he thought, climbing the pharmacy stairs, shiny and covered with expensive carpets. “It’s scary to step on!”

Entering the pharmacy, Svoykin was overwhelmed by the smell inherent in all pharmacies in the world. Science and medicine change over the years, but the smell of a pharmacy is as eternal as matter. Our grandfathers smelled it, and our grandchildren will smell it too. Due to the late hour, there were no people in the pharmacy. Behind a shiny yellow desk, lined with vases with signatures, stood a tall gentleman with his head thrown back solidly, a stern face and well-groomed sideburns - by all appearances, a pharmacist. Starting from the small bald spot on his head and ending with his long pink nails, everything on this man was carefully ironed, cleaned and as if licked, even if he walked down the aisle. His frowning eyes looked down at the newspaper lying on the desk. He read. A cashier sat to the side behind a wire grill, lazily counting change. On the other side of the counter separating the Latin kitchen from the crowd, two dark figures were scurrying around in the semi-darkness. Svoykin went up to the desk and handed the ironed gentleman a recipe. He, without looking at him, took the recipe, read to the point in the newspaper and, making a slight half-turn of his head to the right, muttered:

Calomeli grana duo, sacchari albi grana quinque, numero decem! 1
- Ja! 2 - a sharp, metallic voice was heard from the depths of the pharmacy.

The pharmacist dictated the mixture in the same dull, measured voice.

Ja! - was heard from another corner.

The pharmacist wrote something on the recipe, frowned and, throwing his head back, lowered his eyes to the newspaper.

“It will be ready in an hour,” he muttered through his teeth, searching with his eyes for the point where he had stopped.
- Can't you hurry up? - Svoykin muttered. “It’s absolutely impossible for me to wait.”

The pharmacist did not answer. Svoykin sat down on the sofa and began to wait. The cashier finished counting the change, took a deep breath and clicked the key. In the depths, one of the dark figures was fidgeting around a marble mortar. Another figure was chattering something in a blue bottle. Somewhere a clock was knocking rhythmically and carefully.

Svoykin was ill. His mouth was burning, there was a nagging pain in his legs and arms, and foggy images like clouds and shrouded human figures wandered through his heavy head. He saw the pharmacists, shelves with cans, gas jets, whatnots through the flair, and the monotonous knock on the marble mortar and the slow ticking of the clock seemed to him to be happening not outside, but in his very head... Frustration and brain fog took over his body more and more , so after waiting a little and feeling sick from the sound of the marble mortar, he decided to talk to the pharmacist to cheer himself up...

“I must be starting to have a fever,” he said. “The doctor said that it’s still difficult to decide what kind of illness I have, but I’m so weak... I’m also lucky that I got sick in the capital, and God forbid I have such a misfortune in the village.” , where there are no doctors or pharmacies!

The pharmacist stood motionless and, throwing his head back, read. He did not respond to Svoykin’s address to him with either a word or a movement, as if he had not heard... The cashier yawned loudly and struck a match on his trousers... The sound of the marble mortar became louder and louder. Seeing that they were not listening to him, Svoykin raised his eyes to the shelves with jars and began to read the inscriptions... At first, all kinds of “radixes” flashed before him: gentiana, pimpinella, tormentilla, zedoaria, etc. Behind the radixes, tinctures, oleums, semens flashed, with names each more sophisticated and antediluvian.

“How much unnecessary ballast there must be here! - thought Svoykin. “There is so much routine in these banks, standing here only out of tradition, and at the same time how solid and impressive it all is!”

From the shelves, Svoykin turned his eyes to the glass bookcase standing next to him. Then he saw rubber circles, balls, syringes, jars of toothpaste, Pierrot drops, Adelheim drops, cosmetic soaps, ointment for hair growth...

A boy in a dirty apron entered the pharmacy and asked for 10 kopecks. ox bile.

Tell me, please, what is ox bile used for? - the teacher turned to the pharmacist, delighted with the topic of conversation.

Having not received an answer to his question, Svoykin began to examine the stern, arrogantly learned face of the pharmacist.

“Strange people, by God! - he thought. - Why do they put a learned color on their faces? They charge their neighbors at exorbitant prices, sell ointments for hair growth, and looking at their faces, you might think that they really are priests of science. They write in Latin, speak German... They pretend to be medieval... In a healthy state you don’t notice these dry, callous faces, but when you get sick, like I am now, you’ll be horrified that a holy cause has fallen into the hands of this insensitive ironing figure..."

Examining the motionless face of the pharmacist, Svoykin suddenly felt the desire to lie down, at all costs, away from the light, the learned face and the sound of the marble mortar... Painful fatigue took over his entire being... He walked up to the counter and, making a pleading grimace, asked:

Be so kind as to let me go! I... I'm sick...
- Now... Please don't lean your elbows!

The teacher sat down on the sofa and, driving foggy images out of his head, began to watch the cashier smoke.

“Half an hour has only passed,” he thought. “There is still the same amount left... Unbearable!”

But finally, a small, black pharmacist approached the pharmacist and placed a box of powders and a bottle of pink liquid next to him... The pharmacist read to the point, slowly walked away from the desk and, taking the bottle in his hands, dangled it before his eyes... Then he wrote the signature , tied it to the neck of the bottle and reached for the signet...

“Well, what are these ceremonies for? - thought Svoykin. “It’s a waste of time, and they’ll take extra money for it.”

Having wrapped, bound and sealed the mixture, the pharmacist began to do the same with the powders.

Get it! - he said finally, without looking at Svoikin. - Put a ruble and six kopecks into the cash register!

Svoykin reached into his pocket for money, took out a ruble and immediately remembered that, apart from this ru :), he didn’t have a penny more...

Ruble six kopecks? - he muttered, embarrassed. - And I only have one ruble... I thought that ru:) would be enough... What can I do?
- Don't know! - the pharmacist said, starting to read the newspaper.
- In that case, excuse me... I’ll bring you six kopecks tomorrow or send you...
- This is impossible... We don’t have a loan...
- What should I do?
- Go home, bring six kopecks, then you’ll get your medicine.
- Perhaps, but... it’s hard for me to walk, and there’s no one to send...
- I don’t know... It’s none of my business...
- Hm... - the teacher thought. - Okay, I’ll go home...

Svoykin left the pharmacy and went to his home... By the time he got to his room, he sat down to rest about five times... Arriving at his place and finding several copper coins in the table, he sat down on the bed to rest... Some force pulled his head towards the pillow... He lay down, as if for a minute... Foggy images in the form of clouds and shrouded figures began to cloud his consciousness... For a long time he remembered that he needed to go to the pharmacy, for a long time he forced himself to get up, but the illness took its toll. Coppers poured out of his fist, and the patient began to dream that he had already gone to the pharmacy and was again talking with the pharmacist there.

Anton Chekhov.

1. Calomeli grana duo, sacchari albi grana quinque, numero decem! - Calomel two grains, sugar five grains, ten powders! (lat.).
2. Ja! - Yes! (German).

What place does compassion have in our lives? Is it really important to show compassion to strangers? Why, condemning indifference and inability to help, do we so often ourselves pass by someone else’s misfortune, and the principle of life “my house is on the edge” remains for some at all times the motto of life? These and other questions arise in my mind after reading the text of the great Russian classic A.P. Chekhov.

In his text, the writer raises the problem of compassion. He tells us the story of Svoykin, who, having fallen ill, went to the pharmacy to get medicine. Here he was met by a “ironed gentleman” with a “stern face.” The author emphasizes the appearance of the pharmacist: “...everything on this man was carefully ironed, cleaned and as if licked.” Svoykin had to wait an hour for the medicine.

His condition is getting worse. “His mouth was burning, there were nagging pains in his arms and legs...” The pharmacist does not show any sympathy towards him, demonstrating alienation and indifference. When the medicine was ready, the patient was short six kopecks. The pharmacist refused to give him the medicine. Yegor Alekseich went to get the money, but was no longer able to return to the pharmacy. The problem that the author raises made me think deeply about why people are divided into those who are ready to help and those who find it easier to ignore other people’s problems.

A.P. Chekhov leads us, the readers, to a clear conclusion: people need compassion. The ability to sympathize with the grief of others is a manifestation of true humanity. The author sharply condemns the callous pharmacist and endlessly sympathizes with the sick Svoykin. He was not helped by the pharmacist, a person who also had to serve people for a long time.

I'm completely on the author's side. Compassion occupies an important place in our lives. Helping other people is the need of every person. It is this quality that makes us human. And the fashionable attitudes today: “love yourself,” “live only for yourself,” are feigned and far-fetched. I am convinced that a person comes into this world to bring good. And don’t be shy about being kind and sensitive. A person close to us may take Svoykin’s place.

In fiction we find many examples of both compassionate and indifferent attitudes towards people. I will give examples.

In L.N. Tolstoy’s epic novel “War and Peace,” Count Rostov and Natasha Rostova, his daughter, give carts to the wounded, unloading their goods. They cannot leave the wounded; for them, someone else’s life is more valuable than material values. Meanwhile, Berg, the husband of Natasha’s older sister Vera, is buying antique furniture at bargain prices. “Verochka loves such things so much, she will be so happy,” he says, not realizing that there is a war going on, people are dying, there is nothing to transport the wounded. And he has a bookcase. And this situation puts everything in its place. We find the careerist Berg disgusting and the Rostovs incredibly attractive.

In M.A. Bulgakov’s novel “The Master and Margarita,” Margarita can ask Woland for anything. She has something to desire, she wants to see the Master. And the heroine asks to show compassion for Frida, who strangled her child with a handkerchief. She asks not to give her a scarf in order to stop tormenting her soul. She understands the suffering of a stumbled, sinned woman and shows sympathy for her. Margarita saves Frida from suffering and shows true humanity.

From all of the above, I would like to conclude: do not listen to anyone, do not be indifferent and callous. Compassion, empathy, the desire to help - these are the qualities that make us human. Appreciate them and protect them. Our world rests on compassion and kindness.