Brief introduction of childhood characters

Gorky is the founder of Soviet literature and one of the most important writers in the 20th century. His works have a great influence on China literature.

Childhood is the first part of Gorky's famous autobiography trilogy. The trilogy is childhood (19 13), on earth (19 16) and my university (1923). The trilogy describes the growth process of "I". We can learn about Gorky's growth process.

Childhood tells the growth story of a lonely child "I". The novel examines the whole society and life from a unique perspective of a child. My grandfather's house is a family full of hatred and a strong habit of ordinary people. This is a suffocating family. In addition, the novel also shows the process of corruption, decline and extinction of the whole society at that time. Through the narrative of my painful childhood, the novel truly reflects the writer's difficult childhood life and unremitting pursuit of light and truth, and also shows the broad social picture of Russian society at the end of 19.

My father died of cholera. When I was a child, I snuggled up to my grandmother and watched her cry because of fear and anxiety.

It never rains but it pours, and the child just born by the heartbroken mother also died. There seems to be nothing to miss. After handling everything, I followed my grandmother and mother to Jenny's grandfather's house by boat.

Grandma is a kind and kind person. She speaks kindly, happily and fluently. I have been friends with her since the first day I met her. On the boat, she told me stories. Her voice is low and mysterious. She leaned close to my face and stared at my eyes with wide eyes, as if to instill an inspiring force in my heart. Every time I listen to her, I always ask, "Tell me another one!" " "Well, Alesha. She always readily agrees.

Grandpa's house has arrived. I don't like adults or children in this family. I feel like a stranger among them. What I don't particularly like is my grandfather, and "I" immediately smelled hostility in him.

Grandfather's home is filled with the fire fog of hatred between people. Adults are poisoned by hatred, and even children are enthusiastically involved. Grandpa opened a dyehouse, and two uncles also worked in the dyehouse and hired some long-term workers. The arrival of mother made two uncles worry that she would share a fortune that belonged to them, so they clamored for separation.

I think my grandfather has a bad temper; No matter who he talks to, he always laughs at others, bullies them, puts on a challenging posture and tries his best to make them angry. A few days after I came, my grandfather forced me to learn to pray. Soon, I was whipped by my grandfather.

Adults skillfully change the color of cloth, which makes me feel funny. When I just put the edge of a tablecloth into the dye vat, the long-term worker at home ran over and stopped me. Even my grandmother exclaimed and even began to cry. I knew I was in trouble.

That night, my grandfather pushed my grandmother's block and carried me to Changdeng. I struggled in his hand, pulling his beard and biting his fingers. This time he was even more furious, only to hear him rudely call out, "Tie it up! Shoot him! ……"

I lost consciousness, and then I got sick and stayed in bed for a few days. The day when I was ill was an important day in my life. These days, I have probably grown up very fast, and I have a very different feeling. From then on, I looked at people anxiously, as if the skin on my heart had been torn off, so my heart became unbearable sensitive to all humiliation and pain, whether it was my own or others'.

Tzgang came to me, and his arm was covered with whip marks, which he left to stop grandpa's tree note. He kept comforting me and telling me how to relieve the pain when I was beaten again.

Young people's burial high dyeing technology is very good. Both uncles are going to pull Zgang when they visit in the future. They are also afraid that he will not follow, and they are also worried that their grandfather will open a third dye house with Zgang. Grandpa saw their trick and deliberately teased them that he wanted to buy Guogang a certificate of exemption, which would cost a lot of money, but he needed Guogang most. This can't help but make the two uncles hold their breath. Grandfather didn't realize what his joke meant to Zi Gang.

On the anniversary of Yakov menstruation's death, my uncles asked Zgang to carry a heavy cross to the cemetery.

I was chatting happily with Gregory, an old craftsman at home, when I suddenly heard something outside. It turned out that my uncles came back, and Zokan was lying on the ground, bleeding a lot. Uncle Yakov said, "He fell and was pinned down-he hit his back." "You killed him," Gregory said in a muffled voice. "That's right-how about ..." At this moment, my grandfather came, and he screamed loudly: "A group of jackals! I know he is a thorn in your side ... alas! "

..... This young man, Zokada, was buried silently and forgotten.

Grandma often prays to God and tells him everything about housework. I often beg her to tell stories about God. When she talks about God, heaven and angels, she seems amiable. The face has also become younger, and the moist eyes reveal a particularly warm light.

One day, she was kneeling in prayer when her grandfather suddenly came in and shouted hoarsely, "Fire!" " ""what did you say! " Grandma shouted, jumped up and ran to the hall.

"Pick the icon! Dress the children! " Grandmother ordered sternly and firmly, while grandfather just sobbed in a low voice. I was frightened to see the fire. I saw my grandmother with an empty pocket on her head and a horse quilt wrapped around her. She rushed to the burning house and shouted, "sulfate, fool!" Sulfate is going to explode ... "In people's consternation, she appeared, smoking all over and holding a bucket of sulfate.

She runs around the yard. Everyone listens to her whenever something happens, and nothing escapes her eyes.

The fire was put out. I was just about to fall asleep, and the room was as busy as fire. My menstruation Natalya was going to have a baby. I climbed down from the kang and just rubbed against my uncle. He suddenly grabbed my foot and pulled it hard, and I fell to the floor. "Bastard", I can't help calling him names. He jumped up, picked me up and growled, "I'll kill you!" " "

I woke up to know that my aunt Natalia had died in childbirth. I only feel that something is expanding in my head and heart; What I see in this room is like a truck convoy on the street in winter, passing by me slowly and crushing everything. ...

In spring, my uncles separated: Jacob stayed in the city, Mikhail moved across the river, and my grandfather bought a big house. The whole house is full of tenants, and my grandfather only left a big room upstairs for himself to live in and receive guests. Grandma and I live on the top floor.

Grandpa is sometimes very kind to me. Although he is in a good mood, he beats me less and less. He taught me to read and even told me stories. But what he said was mostly his past history, which was different from what his grandmother said.

But our peace was soon broken. One night, Uncle Yakov came and said that Uncle Mikhail was drunk. Uncle Mikhail claimed to "pull out his father's beard and kill him!" Grandfather's face was horribly twisted and he screamed, "I know you got him drunk and taught him a lesson!" " You want all your property, don't you? "

Uncle Mikhail was drunk. He walked into a bar on the street. Later, it was his grandmother and uncle Yakov who dragged him out of the pub.

Uncle Mikhail often comes at night, and even brings a few helpers, binge drinking, uprooting fruit trees and even destroying the bathroom. My grandfather is in pain and his face is black.

Finally, the contradiction intensified. Once, my uncle came with a thick stick. He knocked on the door on the steps, and behind the door were his grandfather with a big tree root and two tenants with long, pointed sticks. Grandma begged, but just said to the tenant, "Beat your chest and legs, don't start …".

Grandma got into a small window by the door and told my uncle to run. But my uncle's red eyes shone on her arm like a stick, and my grandmother fell down. "Oh, what happened to that old woman?" Grandfather gave a terrible cry.

The door suddenly opened and my uncle jumped into the dark door, but he was thrown off the steps like a shovel.

Grandma groaned. Grandpa looked at the bound son, sighed and went to grandma's bed. "They're going to torture us to death, old woman!" "You gave them all the property ..." I heard that they didn't want to give my mother's property to my uncles.

They had a long talk. Grandma's voice was low and pitiful, but grandpa made a scene and got angry.

I have long understood that my grandfather has one god and my grandmother has another.

Almost every morning, my grandmother can get new compliments and pray warmly, deeply and devoutly. Her prayers have always been hymns, sincere and frank praise.

Her God is with her all day, even mentioning God to animals. I understand that all living things-people, things, birds, bees, grass-obey her god easily and meekly. God is equally kind and merciful to everything on earth.

Once, the hostess of the pub scolded her grandmother and even threw carrots at her. I retaliated by locking my hostess in the cellar. My grandmother taught me a few words that I will never forget. "Dear child, you must remember: don't mind the affairs of adults!" " Adults don't study well; God is testing them. You haven't been tested. You should live according to your children's ideas. Wait for God to open your heart, tell you what to do and show you the way to go. You got it? As for who made what mistake-it's none of your business. This allows God to judge and punish. "

Grandfather's prayers are often full of pain and helplessness. "Put out the flame of my pain, I am poor and bad!" I have only sinned against you-please stay away from my sins. When he tells me about the infinite power of God, he always emphasizes the cruelty of this power first. He said that if people commit crimes, they will drown; if they commit crimes again, they will burn to death and their cities will be destroyed. He said that God punished people with hunger and plague, and he would rule the world forever with his sword and deal with sinners with his whip.

Grandma's God is a lovely friend of all living things. My grandfather's god scares me and is full of hostility: he doesn't love anyone and looks at everything with stern eyes. He first looked for and saw the bad, evil and guilty side of people.

My family doesn't want me to play in the street because the children in the street always bully me. What makes me sad is that Gregory, an old worker, is completely blind and begging in the street. Grandpa stopped hiring a long time ago.

Grandfather sold the house to the owner of the pub and bought another house. There are people living around, but what attracts me most is a tenant named "Good Things".

His room is almost full of boxes and books, and there are bottles, steel sheets and lead bars filled with liquids of various colors everywhere. From morning till night, he was painted with unknown pigments, his hair was unkempt, and he was all thumbs, always melting lead and welding small copper things there. The magic this man plays makes me curious.

People in the whole room don't like this good thing. They think he is a pharmacist, a wizard and a dangerous person. But I'm more and more curious about him. So, one day, I got up the courage to open his door.

Since then, I have often been with him. Ordinary things in the yard will become particularly meaningful after a word or two from him. A cat came running in the yard, stopped in front of a bright puddle, looked at its own shadow and raised its paw as if to hit it. -Good thing said softly, "The cat is arrogant and suspicious ..." Golden Rooster flew to the fence, stopped, patted his wings and almost fell down. It was angered, craned its neck and growled angrily. "This general has a big shelf, but he is not very clever ..." A child always bullies me, but I can't beat him. After listening to my experience, the good thing said, "This is a trivial matter; This power is not power, the real power lies in the speed of action; The sooner the stronger-do you understand? " His words really worked. I really hit the child. How amazing it is to say nice things!

Soon I had a strong feeling about beautiful things, and he became an indispensable person to me, whether it was a painful and humiliating day or a happy moment.

I went to find a tenant, and grandpa gradually found out. Every time I go, he gives me a good beating. Later, the good things were finally kicked out by my grandfather.

My friendship with the first person among countless outstanding people ended like this.

When I was young, I imagined myself as a beehive. All kinds of ordinary rough people send honey, knowledge and thoughts of life into the hive like bees. They tried their best to enrich my mind generously. This kind of honey is often dirty and bitter, but as long as it is knowledge, it is honey.

After the good things left, Uncle Peter and I became very close. He likes talking. It seems that people are very kind and happy, but his eyes are often bloodshot and turbid, sometimes as dull as dead people.

An old man moved in on our street. He has a strange habit: every rest day, he sits at the window and shoots dogs, cats, chickens and crows with a shotgun, and also shoots pedestrians he doesn't like.

On one occasion, the shooter hit a few grape-shot bullets on his grandfather's leg. Grandpa is angry. He filed a complaint with the judge and called the victims and witnesses in the street, but the old man suddenly disappeared.

Whenever Uncle Peter hears gunshots in the street, he will run into the street. Sometimes he lingers for a long time without results. About the hunter not admitting that he is a wild bird worth shooting. After a while, he was finally shot. He came up to us and said with satisfaction, "I hit my chin!" " "I was a little scared, so I asked," Can Master kill people? ""Why not? Yes They also kill each other. "

He is very affectionate to me, and talking to me is better than talking to adults. When he invited everyone to eat jam, the jam on my bread was very thick. He also told me many stories, but they were all strangely similar: every story contained things that tortured, wronged and oppressed people.

After a while, I met three children in Colonel Ovshnikov's hospital. We are friendly and have a good time. But Uncle Peter thinks they are young masters and poisonous snakes. It bothers me. Those three children were beaten at home, and they didn't do anything wrong to me.

Later, I found that Uncle Peter's depression and dementia became more and more frequent. No longer invite people to eat jam, my face is dry, my wrinkles are deeper, and I walk like a patient.

One day, the police came to see Uncle Peter, but he was gone. A few days later, Uncle Peter committed suicide in my backyard.

According to my grandmother's guests, Uncle Peter's real name is unknown. He is related to a case. He and his associates robbed the church a long time ago.

After listening to this, I seem to feel that everyone has become short, fat and terrible. ...

One Saturday morning, my mother came to my grandfather's house in a carriage. My mother is wearing a big, warm and soft red dress, and a row of big black buttons are nailed diagonally from her shoulders. I think my mother is beautiful and young, better than anyone else.

My mother's arrival changed my life like a wild horse. My mother began to teach me the word "secular" and let me learn to recite poems. Since then, we have been worried about each other. I often mispronounce words in my lines. If you know how to pronounce it in your heart, your exports will go out of shape. Sometimes I mispronounce on purpose. In fact, I like to sort out some meaningless lines, or in another way. This may be my creative desire when I was a child, but it always makes my mother angry. In the hammock, when I tell my grandmother, she sometimes laughs, but usually always blames me.

I think life is difficult, not only because my mother teaches me more and more homework, but also because homework is becoming more and more difficult to understand. More importantly, my mother is getting more and more sad. She often sits silently by the window of the garden for a long time, and the whole person becomes sloppy and more and more angry.

I also saw my grandfather preparing something that scared my grandmother and mother. One night, after my grandfather and my mother quarreled, my mother went to the tenant's house again. Grandfather gave her a good beating, and several thick hair pins went deep into her scalp. When I got up the courage to pull it out for her, the hairpin was bent. My grandmother begged me not to tell my mother, and I promised, but my heart was full of hatred for my grandfather. I finally found a suitable opportunity for revenge. There are 12 icons collected by my grandfather in the box on the top floor. While he didn't care, I grabbed a few and ran downstairs, took out my scissors, climbed into the hammock and began to cut the saint's head. Before I could cut the second one, my grandfather came and he wanted to beat me up. My mother arrived in time, and my grandfather was embarrassed to learn from me that my grandmother had been beaten.

In order not to let mom associate with the tenant, grandpa kicked out the original tenant. The room has been rearranged, and my grandfather will invite me. Uncle Jacob also came and brought a one-eyed bald watchmaker. I don't like him because he is ugly and eccentric, but my grandfather wants to marry his mother. One Sunday, the watchmaker came, and my grandfather forced my mother to see him. My mother strongly disagreed and took off her coat and skirt to show her resistance. My grandfather had to compromise, and my grandmother politely sent the watchmaker away. Mother's anti-marriage succeeded.

Since this happened, my mother immediately strengthened herself, straightened her back and became the head of the family. Grandfather has gone unnoticed. He hardly goes out. He always sits in the attic reading a mysterious book. He speaks to his mother more gently and is less angry.

There are many precious clothes and various gem necklaces in grandpa's box, and grandpa gave them to his mother. Mom is dressed more and more beautifully. She lives in two rooms in the front hall and often has guests coming in and out. The most frequent visitors are two people, one is police officer Peter and the other is yevgeny, whose mother later married him.

After the lively Christmas, my mother sent me and uncle Mikhail's son Sasha to school. A month later, Sasha began to play truant and carefully buried his schoolbag in the snow. Grandfather had to hire a guard for us. But Sasha finally ran away. He wants to be a robber because his stepmother, father and grandfather don't love him. I decided to become an officer.

I got smallpox, was put in the back attic, and lay in bed for more than three months. I was lying there and heard the noise at home getting louder and louder, as if something was going to happen. My grandmother often comes to see me, but she doesn't tell me.

Grandma often drinks and automatically tells me the story of her father.

My father became an orphan at the age of nine and became a good carpenter at the age of twenty. He has a crush on my mother, and he has been private for life. Once, grandma and mom were picking cranberries in the garden, and dad climbed over the wall to propose. Grandma knew that grandpa would resolutely oppose this marriage, but she felt sorry for the young couple and decided to let them go and agreed to hold the wedding a week later. When her grandfather learned about it and tried to stop it, the couple were already standing in the corridor of the church. Grandfather vowed never to see his parents again.

When I was about to be born, my grandfather forgave them, and my parents moved to my grandfather's house. Father is a lively and clever man, and often plays some practical jokes. Two uncles hate their father very much. One night, they tricked their father into an ice cave and almost killed him. The next spring, mom and dad left on the first sailboat.

When I can't sleep at night, I make up some sad stories. My father is always alone, walking somewhere with a stick in his hand. Followed by a long-haired dog

Mother seldom comes to see me, but she is very busy. There are new changes in her that I don't know about.

One night, I fell asleep, woke up and felt my legs awake. I know, I can walk soon, which is great.

Mother married Ma Kexin Muff. Later, they went to Moscow and left me at my grandfather's house.

My grandfather and I were busy in the garden. When he was resting, he said to me, "Learn to work independently and don't be pushed around by others!" " Live honestly, but live stubbornly! You can listen to anyone, but do what you think is good ... "。

In autumn, grandpa sold the house and separated from grandma. Soon, my mother and my stepfather came back and said that the house was on fire and everything was burned out. My grandfather was bored for a while and suddenly said loudly to my stepfather, "There is a rumor reaching my ears, sir, and there is no fire. You lost all the cards ... ".

I lived with my mother and started to get wild. Every time I go to the street, I have to be beaten black and blue by the children in the street. Fighting is my only favorite pastime and has become a hobby. My mother slapped me with a belt, but the punishment angered me even more. Next time, I played harder with my children-my mother punished me even harder. In my heart, the blue flame with the smell of charcoal fire that resents everything, the feeling of heavy dissatisfaction, and the feeling of loneliness in this gloomy and lifeless atmosphere often erupt and smoke like ashes in my heart.

My stepfather was strict with me, ignored my mother and quarreled with her more and more.

My mother gave birth to a little brother named Sasha, who was in poor health and died suddenly shortly after giving birth to her second child.

I went to school, and everything disgusted me, but a bishop later made me feel very kind and happy. I took a ruble from home in order to buy a fairy tale book. Although I didn't want to hide the money, my mother beat me up. My classmates at school called me a thief, and I don't want to go to school again.

Once, my father hit my mother. He kicked her in the chest with his leg. During the quarrel, I knew that my father had gone to a woman's house. I picked up a knife and stabbed my father in the waist with all my strength. When the mother saw it, she screamed and pushed her stepfather away, only stabbing him a little. He hunched over and ran away.

Later, I told my mother that I killed my stepfather and myself. I think I will do it, and I will try my best to do it anyway. Until now, I still see that cheap long leg, swinging back and forth in the air, kicking a woman's chest with her toes.

I moved to my grandfather again. Grandpa and grandma are completely different. Everything is separate: today grandma pays for food and lunch, and tomorrow it's her turn to buy food and bread. On the day when it was his turn to buy, lunch was as bad as ever. Grandma buys good meat. She always buys some large intestine, liver, lungs and tripe. Everyone keeps tea and sugar, and even the oil of the ever-burning lamp dedicated to the icon is bought separately.

Looking at grandpa's tricks, I was both funny and disgusted, while grandma only felt ridiculous.

I started making money, too. Every rest day, I go to pick up cow bones, rags, scraps of paper and nails.

Some friends and I picked up junk and stole firewood and boards from the timber factory. In this village, stealing has become an ethos, which is not a sin, but almost the only means for ordinary people who are half hungry and half full to make a living.

My stepfather was fired and disappeared. My mother was silent and thin, and my little brother was ill and too weak to cry loudly.

Mom is getting thinner and thinner. Her slender body is like a fir tree refracted by branches. She is completely dumb. Sometimes, I will lie silently in the corner all day and die gradually. She's dying-of course I feel it, and I know it.

At noon on a Friday in August, my mother died and my stepfather just came back. He found something in one place, and his grandmother and little brother moved to him.

When people scattered dry sand on their mother's coffin, grandma went to the cemetery like a blind man. She ran into a cross and broke her face. ...

A few days after my mother was buried, my grandfather said to me, "hey, listen to me, you are not a medal, and there is no place to hang you around my neck." Go find someone to beg for food ... "

So I went to the earth.