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Culture / Literature

Lantern

Illustrated literary magazine

Found 96 items

Osip Dymov (real name Joseph Isidorovich Perelman, 1878-1959) — novelist, playwright, journalist, translator. Roman "Vexation of spirit", 1912 Smokes rotates in a modern moods of the century. He would like to capture the latest trends of it, the last manifestation of the soul... He knows intellectuals refined, refined, the world of Bohemia, broken modernists, the hypocrites and the scribes and women who passed through the bedrooms of celebrities and are able to quote Verlaine [...]

In the Morning by an orderly from headquarters brought Lieutenant Kalyuzhny package. Kalyuzhny opened it, frowning. "Do a transfer to another ship"?.. he thought, taking out a folded in half paper. The paper was an order to appear today, at noon, in the headquarters. The order came from the Admiral...

Spring this year was early: by the end of February came the rooks, and in early March through the streets was already rushing torrents of muddy water, and if where it lay still in the snow, he was all black from the sun and friable, like wet sugar. The streets were particularly bright and loud...

In the evening bright summer day a young squire Vystrugat went to a distant village, Laputina for provisions. A little wet after the recent rain, the air was a little fog, and white light through the veil of pale loomed scattered among fields of large old birch trees, windmills, Yes loomed in the distance the silhouette of the bell tower kapustinskoe. The accident occurred near the village of High Island, under mount...

Stepasha, goddaughter of old ladies, the girl was a quiet, hard-working, but bad him that his uncle, chef Mokeich, dubbed her "the enforcer." Lumpy, with flattened nose, like a childhood she's on her face he sat and walked-it is not like people heavy duck, with foot to foot, swaying, limp floorboards forced...

— Aunt Sophie, why are you talking about: Sophia Ivanovna, about dad — Ivan Ivanovich, and about the virgin Mary just Mary; her next? — Then what, my friend? And, ceasing to consider a needle pattern, aunt Sophie lowered her embroidery and glanced at the floor, where George, lying on the belly, painted the "adoration of the Magi"...

— Arrived vskormleny my eneral, Nikita Ivanovich, — said happily Anfisa, thin, icon-painting an old woman entering the hut. — Oh, you came, — had called with furnace Artem. — How many years the wind in the mansion went. — And we already own, and became smooth. Coat, his scarlet lined, straight sundress... proudly uttered the old woman...

In the small dining room was half dark and boring. Brown Wallpaper, blue tablecloth on the table, crooked a kerosene lamp dimly lit the dull, Nickel samovar — all this seemed to Ivan Ivanovich so boring and, more importantly, unnecessary, that he is somehow particularly painful sigh...

— Well?.. Want to sleep? — Oh no, mom! I'd have stayed longer. So much fun. Look after all, only four. — Isn't that enough?.. You today was a great success. Let them notice your absence, — that's better. And then think: how many tomorrow we have visited the people with visits. All of your current Cavaliers...

About borough trees grew straight from the pavement, or rather from a round cast-iron grilles set into the stone slabs. So they were growing and in many other places. The sky was only visible along the streets, and even in the good weather it seemed not to be the sky and some hanging over the eaves of houses grayish-blue cloth...

We moved away immediately came to his senses after all events, storm surge picked up his young life and resulting in new Dali. He was decent, nice and humble young man. The University worked hard, didn't understand, but "studied" diligently for the exams answered respectfully and even the most radical professors liked that shy...

In early August, but the weather this week is rainy and evil... was an early warm spring; it was replaced by sultry summer, and the sun managed to spend their gold before the usual time. The leaves are still green, but it is clear that they are tired of living and breathing sluggishly. Bent birch branches...

In the Middle Avenue in the lower floor of the enormous stone house from time immemorial have placed a large zurowska shop, under the guise of "Trading house of B. A. Arkhipova". Traded in her red and surowski goods; boots and galoshes; neckties and suspenders; underwear monopoly and different fancy trifle...

Mesdames, if you crossed the limit of youth, if you are over eighteen years of age do not go to balls high-school students, lawyers and students... Advise you. Otherwise your ego at risk of bitter trial. Youth Frank to brutality and their views, sympathies expressed in the form, what comes to mind...

Wife Yuri Sergeevich Malisheva came in perfect despair. Miserable apartment, published smoky Windows on the second courtyard, has not been paid for almost six months, the cook owed three months salary and overexposure by cooking the accounts, "man" with a dairy farm boring every day...