10 Dec 1821
He was born in Podolsk province Nikolay Nekrasov - poet and citizen.
The people are liberated, but are the people happy?
The poet's ancestors lost 10 serfs at cards, leaving his father with only 40. He inflicted brutal reprisals on them and participated in orgies with the serfs' mistresses. To earn money, he took a job as a police officer and began taking his son on trips, where he often witnessed the collection of arrears from debtors or the dead.
Every peasant
The soul is like a black cloud - Angry, menacing - and it would be necessary Thunders thunder from Ottudov, Let it rain bloodily, And everything ends with wine
Against his parents' wishes, he enrolled in the philology department and was left penniless. He wrote magazine articles and stage plays.
At 24, he went into publishing. Things went well, and he acquired the lease for Sovremennik magazine, founded by Pushkin. This brought him into the world of literature. Dostoevsky и Tolstoy.
Nekrasov's works are dedicated to the tragedy of the peasantry. He introduced vernacular and colloquial idioms into Russian poetry.
People of the servile rank - Real dogs sometimes: The heavier the punishment So gentlemen gentlemen
To save Sovremennik from closure, he composed a laudatory ode to the general. Muravyov the Hanger, whom the Tsar ordered to suppress revolutionary sentiments in St. Petersburg. The ode was read at a dinner at the English Club. The 45-year-old Nekrasov began to curry favor with the general when he criticized revolutionary ideas. The poet asked permission to read a "poetic greeting." Muravyov listened, smoking his pipe. He cast a disdainful glance at Nekrasov and advised him not to publish the poem.
The magazine was shut down anyway. And the poet's ode sparked a storm of public outrage. Some ripped his portraits off the walls, tore them to shreds, wrote "scoundrel" on them, and mailed them to him.
Nekrasov never denied the meanness of his actions.
Yes, I am a scoundrel, but you are scoundrels too. I am a scoundrel because I am your offspring, your blood. I do not recognize your judgment; you are as much defendants as I am.
He died in December 1877 from cancer.
