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The Long Face Of A Mother And Maxim Gorky’s “The Mother”

Behind the word “mother”, there are such responsibilities and sacrifices, which are certainly not explainable in words. They just can be felt.

The natural state of motherhood is unselfishness. When you become a mother, you are no longer the centre of your own universe. You relinquish that position to your children.

—Jessica Lange.

The sacrifice of a mother shows its face differently in different situations. Since I read Gorky’s “The Mother“ I never can forget the long face of the mother.

And I never can forget their house in the corner, the house, which window’s glasses are covered with the dancing shadows of the leaves in the night. Even I feel cold when the comrades’ walkthrough in the ice.

“The Mother“, from its first words to the last, is a strangely beautiful novel. The narration of nature and events, the portray of nature in the whole novel was so beautiful, that I feel them as the real.

We born free, but everywhere we are in the chain. Day after day, facing the daily lives struggle, we don’t know when, without our knowledge and intention, one day we start the strike, we become struggler, the fighter and the survivor.

The path of the struggle is not easy ever. But the lives are so brave to walk the path, that I can’t hold my fascination for the novel, “The Mother“.

I don’t know, how many days, I sat invisibly in Pavel’s meeting, listening to everything, enjoying the hot samovar tea served by the mother.

May be mother didn’t notice me, but I was with her, when she is alone, after Pavel’s gone when mother was struggling so hard to survive.

I was with Rebin and Yogor, I was in the madding crowd of angry peoples.

I don’t know when “The Mother“ becomes so close to me, during I enjoying this novel. I only know, the mother represents the long face of every mother. And for this reason, the mother becomes everyone’s mother, not only Pavel’s.

In my mind there is a white night covered with ice, the comrades walking through the mist left behind the cold night, a house with shadow of dancing leaves in its window, the meetings of Pavel and comrades, and hot samovar tea.

Maxim Gorky’s “The Mother“is a strangely beautiful novel, which I never can be able to forget, since I read it. With the passage of time, it’s being the dancing shadow of leaves in my mind.

 

 

 

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