Имена. Метафизика имен в историческом освещении. Имя и личность

The place occupied by the work “Names” in Florensky’s creative heritage is determined, firstly, by its inclusion in anthropodicy, that is, in the range of issues that reveal the justification of man from various sides, and secondly, by the fact that, being completely independent, this work, at the same time, is a section of the book “At the Watersheds of Thought.” In Florensky’s work, three types of characteristics of the human structure can be outlined. The first type of characteristics, the most general, determines the structure of all people, reveals the type of person as a person. These are two contradictory principles in a person: the usiy, titanic principle, “pure power in which the beginning of things”, and the hypostatic, personal, rational principle, which “puts the measure of the faceless power of human nature.” The interaction of the two principles of a person carries out his life activity, in which Florensky identifies seven main functions of the human being, sanctified by the seven sacraments: 1) nourishing the body (Communion), 2) cleansing the body (Baptism), 3) protecting the body (Chrismation), 4) listening to the word (Anointing), 5) speaking the word (Repentance), 6) the power of listening and speaking the word as a regulator of the verbal, mutual understanding balance in society (Priesthood), 7) the pairing of two together and the emergence of each from himself to the other, which is carried out in the family (Marriage) 335. This general type of characteristics of a person’s structure is opposed by the second type of characteristics, individual, relating only to an individual person. In various works and genealogical studies, Florensky used such characteristics, but his main attention was focused on the third type of characteristics, which occupies a middle place between these two. The third type of characteristics of the human structure, according to Florensky, contains characteristics that determine the structure not of all people and not of an individual, but of a certain group, or kind, of individuals. The purpose of this type of characteristics is to form a spiritual type of personality, to identify an invariant of the personality’s spirit. “The theory of invariants,” wrote priest Pavel Florensky, “one of the most significant acquisitions of mathematical analysis in the 2nd half of the 19th century, still remains unused in philosophy and is still awaiting its interpreter. The concepts of invariant and, related to it, covariant, concomitant, simultant, resultant, discriminant, etc., are destined to give a powerful impetus to the general understanding of life in the future. One feels that philosophy is already groping towards these formal theories of mathematics. At the same time, the greatest fruits will probably be brought by that modification of the theory of invariants, which is called “symbolic” and which vaguely reaches out to the general principles of thinking. In the field of natural philosophy, the usefulness of the theory of invariants has already been discovered - I mean the application of the theory of invariants to the principle of relativity" 336. The invariant type of personality characteristics maintains a balance between the force that strives to merge the human race into a monotonous mass, and the force that strives to isolate individual individuals to the point of impossibility of interpenetration into each other, i.e., to the point of impossibility of mutual understanding. Florensky included such invariant characteristics as: name, face, gender, psychological type of personality, type of increase and increase of type. The main idea of ​​the work “Names” was conceived by Florensky throughout his life. In 1900, having just entered the Faculty of Physics and Mathematics of Moscow University, he conceived a general work, “Discontinuity as an Element of Worldview.” The candidate's essay of 1904 “On the features of plane curves as places of discontinuity” was to be included in the 1st volume of the work (draft and preparatory materials on discontinuity in physics and biology have also been preserved). Having entered the Moscow Theological Academy, Florensky continued his research and began to study the phenomena of discontinuity in the field of religious life. On February 10, 1906, he wrote to his parents: “And I am trying, as community time allows, to prepare material for my works; I study the philosophy of religion, but not according to philosophy, but according to primary sources and old material. I need to study the processes of religious consciousness, and part of my work will be included in the 2nd volume - “On Discontinuity”. For him, I am currently processing my materials in the form of separate articles, of which I wrote one in the summer, I will write another soon, because the material is almost collected, and this required a very painstaking sniffing out of many sources: there is nothing worked out on this issue (I am talking specifically about “changing names during processes of sudden spiritual rebirth”).” Two course essays: “Changing names as an external sign of change in religious consciousness” (1906 – 2nd year) and “On sacramental renaming in connection with the question of baptismal renaming of the sect of runners or wanderers” (1907 – 3rd year) – made up a single book “Sacred Renaming” (1907), about which Florensky wrote in 1914: “...summative work; being prepared for publication" 337. Let us present the table of contents of this book, which demonstrates how extensive and thorough Florensky’s early research was, which formed the basis for his later work “Names.” "Sacred renaming Chapter I. Linguistic study of the word “name” II. Etymon of the word "name" in Aryan languages III. The use of "name" in Aryan languages IV. Etymon of the word "name" in Semitic languages V. The use of “name” in Semitic languages VI. Results of a linguistic survey of the word “name” Chapter II. Religious-historical study of the meaning of names I. The course of development of the worldview of European peoples II. The immediate worldview of peoples and the resulting ideas about the connection between various phenomena III. Relationship between a name and its bearer IV. Mystical meaning of the name VI. Customs that originated from ideas about the power of names VIII. Biblical ideas about the Name of God IX. "In the Name of God" in the Bible X. Results of a historical and religious survey of the meaning of names XI. The contrast in the understanding of the “Name of God” between the ancients and our contemporaries XII. The mystical meaning of the “Name of God” in the New Testament and in patristic writing Chapter III. Sacramental renaming II. Onomatological phenomena and sacramental phenomena III. The totemic idea and the generic idea IV. Name and gender structure V. Renaming during marriage VI. Renaming in twinning VII. Renaming in slavery and VIII. Name when joining a family, clan, etc., born in a family IX. Renaming upon naturalization in a foreign people and state X. Renaming upon taking office XI. Renaming upon initiation into the mysteries XII. Renaming upon monastic tonsure XIII. Renaming in the sect of wanderers or runners XIV. Baptismal renaming XV. Posthumous renaming XVI. General notes on sacramental renaming Chapter IV. Mystical renaming." The trial lecture “Universal Human Roots of Idealism,” read on September 17, 1908 at the Moscow Theological Academy, revealed the connection between Platonism and the mystical-magical view of the nature of names. The next step in the study of this range of issues was Florensky’s in-depth development of the “philosophical theory of names (realism and nominalism)” in connection with the Athonite disputes about the Name of God in 1912–1913. Simultaneously with theoretical research, Florensky conceived a descriptive work on the same topic - a Dictionary of Names (see Florensky’s letter to Vl. A. Kozhevnikov dated June 29-July 12, 1912). It was from the idea of ​​compiling a Dictionary of Names that the work “Names” grew. Probably soon after the letter to Vl. Florensky began keeping a special notebook for A. Kozhevnikov: “Priest Pavel Florensky. Notes in alphabetical order on onomatology, as the science of the categories of personal existence" (hereinafter: "Notes on onomatology"). From the dated notes, in chronological order, we note: Gleb, Lev. 1914.IV.27; 1914.IX.15; From thoughts on Onomatology. 1914.Х.8–9. Night; Natalia. 1914.XII.10; Peter. 1914.XII.20; 1915.II.6. Hospital train. About the name Alexander; About names. On the train. 1915.II.6; clipping from the newspaper Moskovskie Vedomosti. 1915.II.22; Ivan. 1915.II.25. Sergiev Posad; 1915.III.29. Sergiev Posad; 1915.IV.16. Sergiev Posad; Onomatological notes. 1915.IV.16. Sergiev Posad; clipping from the newspaper "Russian Word". 1915.V.25; Lyudmila. 1916.1.23–24; Varvara. 1917.XI.23–24; Alexey. 1918.VII.11; Georgy. 1919.III.6. Sergiev Posad; About the name Alexander. 1921.VIII.31; clipping from the newspaper Izvestia. 1924.1.8; Michael. 1924.VIII.25. A significant part of the notes, extracts and quotations are undated. It is in these “Notes on Onomatology” that the original versions of some parts of the text of the later work “Names” are found. The final formation of the composition and scope of the work “Names” was influenced by the fact that Florensky began to consider it as one of the sections of the book “At the Watersheds of Thought.” Thus, the plan of November 23, 1917 in section “VI. Metaphysics of Names in Historical Illumination” combined the themes of three works by Florensky, the first and third of which had not yet been finally written as independent works (“Imeslavie as a philosophical premise” - 1922; “Names” - 1923–1926), and the table of contents of the second topic was an abbreviated table of contents of the 1907 work “Sacred Renaming”. However, did Florensky really want to place the student’s work “Sacred Renaming” in its entirety in this section? We believe that Florensky could have placed this work in the book “At the Watersheds of Thought” only in a significantly revised and abbreviated form. The volume of the work “Sacred Renaming” is about 25 printed sheets. In two early plans, less than five printed sheets were allocated for the entire “Names” section. If we assume that this volume was allocated only to the third topic (what is now known as “Names”), then the volume of all three topics of section “VI. Metaphysics of Names in Historical Light” should be about 32 printed sheets. The volumes calculated by Florensky for sections II, III, IV, V amount to 21–23 printed sheets; about nine printed sheets remain for sections I, VI, VII, VIII, since the total volume of the entire work is indicated at 30–32 printed sheets. It is clear that section “VI. Metaphysics of Names in Historical Light” was intended by Florensky to be a special text, stylistically and in scope homogeneous with other sections of the entire cycle. In subsequent plans of the cycle “At the watersheds of thought” for 1918–1919. the section “Metaphysics of names in historical coverage” was found without further decoding, but with an indication of the incompleteness of the preparatory materials. Finally, in the plans for 1922, the materials in this section receive a new formulation. An independent section “Imeslavie, as a philosophical premise” appears, which is included in the work “Thought and Language” (issue 1) and corresponds to the first topic of Section VI of the 1917 plan. In addition, an independent section 11 appears, first under the heading “Names”, and in the prospectus of the Pomorie publishing house under the heading “Name and Personality”, which corresponds to the third topic of Section VI of the 1917 plan and the current work "Names" Section 10 retained the previous general title “The Metaphysics of Names in Historical Illumination,” and we do not know of such a text that is different from the work “Sacred Renaming.” Therefore, we have to skip it and publish the work “Sacred Renaming” as a separate book. As already indicated, a single author’s manuscript of the work “Names” is not known. It can be assumed that Florensky, using preparatory materials (“Notes on Onomatology”, initial drafts and extracts of quotations), dictated in 1923–1926. S.I. Fire text of the book. From this handwritten copy, a typewritten copy was printed, which was subject to minor copyright edits. The corrected typewritten text is the basis for the publication. Neither the handwritten copy of S.I. Ognevoy nor the typewritten copy corrected by Florensky have notes. However, almost all quotations given in the work “Names” are restored from Florensky’s draft extracts, which is specified in the editorial appendices. For the first time, the text of the work “Names” was published with some abbreviations (Questions of Literature. 1988. No. 1; Sociological Research. 1988. No. 6; 1989. No. 2–6; Experiments. Literary and Philosophical Collection. M., 1990. P. 351–412). The first complete critical edition of the text of the work and appendices was carried out by the Center for the Study of the Protection and Restoration of the Heritage of the Priest Pavel Florensky (Imena. M., 1993). In the original text of the work “Names” only the numbering of chapters (in the 1st part) and the headings of specific names (in the 2nd part) are indicated. The numbering and titles of parts, as well as the titles of chapters I–XXII (in the 1st part) were put down by the preparers of the text for publication, based on the author’s preparatory materials. Appendix 1 contains a letter from Vl. Florensky. A. Kozhevnikov dated June 29-July 12, 1912, which Florensky himself intended to place in the preface to the work “Names”. Appendix 2 contains preparatory materials for the work “Names”. Since a significant part of the materials was in an unsystematized form, a publication scheme was adopted that corresponded to the structure of the work “Names”: 1) notes and extracts of a general theoretical nature; 2) notes and extracts in accordance with the content of the chapters of the 1st part of the book; 3) notes and extracts concerning specific names and placed by Florensky in a special notebook entitled “Notes in alphabetical order on onomatology, as the science of the categories of personal existence.” The original notes, the text of which is close to the final text of the work “Names,” as well as extracts of quotes included in the work “Names,” are not published again, and Appendix 2 contains only indications of them. Extracts of quotations not included in the work “Names”, as a rule, are also not published, but only indicated. Exceptions are made for some sources of an ecclesiastical nature, as well as inaccessible sources (for example, a clipping from the Izvestia newspaper for 1924). Appendix 3 contains two excerpts from the recordings of conversations between N. Ya. Simonovich-Efimova and Florensky in 1927 concerning issues of onomatology. Appendix 4 contains an excerpt from Solovetsky’s letter to Florensky’s family dated April 8–10, 1936, No. 56, in which he gives characteristics of a number of names. The appendices were previously published in the book “Names” (Moscow, 1993, pp. 261–295, 307–309). The texts of the work “Names” and Appendixes were prepared by Abbot Andronik and S. L. Kravets; notes by S. L. Kravets. “...It is very unpleasant for me to repeat so many barbaric names, but extraordinary stories,” this is how the narrator in “Vicolo Di Madama Lucrezia” by Prosper Merimee introduces one of these stories, “but extraordinary stories always happen only to people whose names are difficult to pronounce” 338. Merimee is not the only writer for whom the sound of a name and, in general, the verbal appearance of a name reveal far-reaching consequences in the fate of the person bearing that name. One could cite a lot of historical and literary evidence about the writer’s concern for the names of the persons he depicts. Need I remind you how, at a formal dinner, Flaubert turned pale and felt ill when Emile Zola told him about a planned novel, the characters of which were to bear the names of Buvard and Pécuchet? After all, he, it seems, without waiting for the end of dinner, took Zola aside and, choking with excitement, began to literally beg him to give him these names, because without them he could not write his novel; they were, as is known, included in its title. Zola did this favor. But this was, precisely, a favor, and Zola himself was far from indifferent to names, even to the point of causing trouble, because he often chose real names and surnames from the address calendar for the “baptism” of his characters; Naturally, the fame gained in this way could not please the owners of these names. The third of the same galaxy of naturalists, apparently far from appreciating names, in fact, also took into account the choice of name. I mean Balzac. When he created a character, he was concerned that the name fit the hero “like a gum to a tooth, like a nail to a finger.” Once, he puzzled over a name for a long time, when suddenly the name “Mark” came up to him. “I don’t need anything else, my hero will be called Mark - in this word one can hear a philosopher, a writer, an unrecognized poet, and a great politician - everything. Now I’ll give him the name Z - this will add a spark, a spark to him” 339. Sometimes the formation of a type around a name does not occur entirely consciously, and the poet, relying on the name he intuitively obtained, does not quite know how dear it is to him. Only if it were necessary to part with it would the essential necessity of this name be revealed, as the focus and heart of the whole thing. But, nevertheless, this unconsciousness of the poet should not be exaggerated: it is not the rule. In many cases, inspiration knows what it is doing - not only does it flow with necessity, but it is also aware of its necessity. This applies, perhaps especially, to names. And writers have more than once noted in themselves and others this function of the name - like a castle holding together a vault. “What most admires and amazes me about Beaumarchais is that his mind, while developing so much shamelessness, at the same time retained so much grace. I confess,” says V. Hugo, “I am, in fact, attracted more by his grace than by his shamelessness, although the latter, relying on the first liberties of the impending revolution, sometimes approaches the formidable, majestic shamelessness of a genius... Although there is a lot of power and even beauty in Beaumarchais’s shamelessness, I still prefer his grace. In other words: I admire Figaro, but I love Suzanne. And, above all, how cleverly this name was invented - Suzanne! How well it was chosen! I have always been grateful to Beaumarchais for coming up with the name. I purposely use this word here: invented. We do not pay enough attention to the fact that only a poet of genius has the ability to endow his creations with names that express them and resemble them. The name must be an image. A poet who does not know this knows nothing. So, back to Suzanne. Suzanne – I like it. Look how well this name decomposes. It has three variations: Suzanne, Suzette, Suzon. Suzanne is a beauty with a swan neck, with bare arms, with sparkling teeth (a girl or a woman - it’s impossible to say for sure), with the features of a soubrette and, at the same time, a lady - a delightful creature standing on the threshold of life! Either brave or timid, she makes the count blush and she herself blushes under the gaze of the page. Suzette is a pretty minx who comes and goes, who listens and waits and nods her head like a bird and opens her thoughts like a flower opens its cup; This is a bride in a white scarf, naivety, full of intelligence, full of curiosity. Suzon is a kind child with an open look and direct speech; beautiful bold face, beautiful bare breasts; she is not afraid of old people, not afraid of men, not even afraid of youths; she is so cheerful that you can guess how much she suffered, and so indifferent that you can guess that she loved. Suzette has no lover; Suzanne has one lover, and Suzon has two, or who knows? - maybe three. Suzette sighs, Suzanne smiles, Suzon laughs loudly. Suzette is charming, Suzanne is charming, Suzon is delicious. Suzette approaches the angel, Suzon approaches the devil, Suzanne is between them. How wonderful it is! How beautiful! How deep! In this woman there are three women, and in these three women there is the whole woman. Suzanne is more than a character in the drama; this is a trilogy. When Beaumarchais the poet wants to call one of these three women depicted in his work, he resorts to one of these three names, and, depending on whether he calls Suzette, Suzanne or Suzon, the beautiful girl is transformed before the eyes of the spectators - as if by the wave of a magician's wand or under a sudden ray of light, and appears under the color that the poet wishes to give her. This is what a well-chosen name means” 340. Everyone knows, especially from childhood memories, the compulsion of depositing a whole circle of thoughts and desires around a well-known name, often invented. By the way, N. talks about this meaning of names in connection with his childhood fantasies. P. Gilyarov-Platonov. “I can’t help but dwell on the idiosyncrasies that emerged during my fantastic flights,” he writes about his childhood years. – When coming up with my own names, I chose mainly well-known combinations of sounds. This was the name "Cholf"; It was this, by the way, that I found depicted on my student notebook. I remember that most of the names that were invented repeated these sounds: either h, or l, or f. Once, I busily took up Armenian history: why? Only because I liked the name Arsak in its sound combination. Hence, the fate of Arsaces and the Arsacids interested me; I carefully re-read about them several times in Plushard’s dictionary; The Arsacids led me further, to the Armenians, and then to the Georgians. Such an effect of sounds cannot be accidental, and I remind you of a fact, I believe, well known in printing houses: “every writer has his own custom letters.” For printing desks, each language has its own general law, due to which some letters are used more often, others less often. Their arithmetic ratio has even been calculated quite accurately; it is based on the quantity in which the letters are cast, how much should be prepared for each cash register of the most common o and how much of the little used sh. On the same basis, the letter room itself varies in size at the box office. On the same basis, a coded letter of any language is easily readable if arbitrary but permanent signs are taken instead of letters. Nevertheless, there are writers who subvert the general law, or at least introduce significant deviations from it inappropriately with the frequent repetitions of well-known letters. Those who recruited, for example, the late Mikhail Petrovich Pogodin knew that for his articles they needed to stock up on a special abundance of the letter p. There were long-suffering people who calculated the number of words used by famous writers, compiled a dictionary for each and found it possible to build conclusions on this about the essence of the talents of both. But, as it turns out, there is a correlation between talents not to the composition of the dictionary, but to the composition of the alphabet itself. For some reason, well-known combinations of sounds are loved; for some reason, the mind and pen resort to them more readily: the phenomenon deserves science to focus its attention on it” 341. Or, here, Pushkin. As Vyach noted. Ivanov, analyzing the poem about the gypsies 342, “all the fiery passion of the semi-savage people, its freedom-loving and fatal indomitability” is expressed by Pushkin in the synthetic type of the Gypsy. Actually, this type is revealed in Zemfira; but Pushkin’s spiritual essence is connected with the name of Zemfira’s mother: Mariula. This “deeply feminine and musical name” is the sound matter from which the entire poem is formed - a direct manifestation of the elements of gypsyism. “And the verses of the poem, preceding the final tragic chord about the universal fame of “fatal passions” and the power of “fates”, from which “there is no protection,” again reproduce, as a melodic leitmotif, the main harmonies, deserted, dull, passionate: I loved slow hikes The phonetics of a melodic poem reveals, as it were, a preference for the vowel u, now dull and thoughtful, and going into the past and past, now colorfully wild, now sultry and hauntingly sad; the dark coloring of this sound is either brought forward in rhythm or enhanced by the shades of the vowel combinations surrounding it and the alliteration of consonants; and all this painting of sounds, vaguely and unconsciously felt by Pushkin’s contemporaries, powerfully contributed to establishing their opinion about the special magic of the new creation, which amazed even those who so recently were intoxicated by nightingale trills and fountain babbles, and all the wet music of the song about the gardens of Bakhchisarai” 343. "Gypsies" is a poem about Mariula; in other words, the entire work luxuriously amplifies the spiritual essence of this name and can be defined as an analytical judgment, the subject of which is the name Mariula. That is why its bearer is not the heroine of the poem: this would narrow its meaning and from the subject could make it one of the analytical predicates, which are, for example, Zemfira, Aleko, and others. Mariula, this name, serves as Pushkin’s special section of the world, a special angle of view on the world, and it is not only united in itself, but also permeates and determines everything. To those who have ears to hear, this name itself would reveal its essence, as it suggested to Pushkin a poem about himself, and can say more poems. But even when revealed in the poem and poems, it remains inexhaustible, always rich. A name is a new higher kind of word and cannot be fully developed by any finite number of words and individual characteristics. Individual words only direct our attention to it. But, just as the name is embodied in sound, its spiritual essence is comprehended mainly by feeling into its sound flesh. It is this sound commentary on the name Mariula that is contained in “Gypsies”. The poem begins with the sounds: “Gypsies roam in a noisy crowd across Bessarabia; ---------------- spend the night." The song that is essential in the entire structure of the poem is the sound: “Old husband, formidable husband” and then with various interlacings with u, yu. The rhymes “gula”, “flashed”, “Cagula” correspond to the main sound of “Mariula”. It would be possible to trace throughout the entire poem the indicated sound structure from u, yu, y, o; but let's limit ourselves to a few quotes: And sadness has secret reasons East didn’t dare to flatter himself... Mogilny gul, laudatory voice, From generation to generation the sound of running Or in the shade of a lot of cabbage soup Tsy gana wild story... – K o sensing Kag u la on the steppes... - Oh, I don’t believe in anything: No dreams, no sweet assurances, Not even your hearts... - Comfort yourself, friend, oh child. Your despondency and recklessness: Do you like sorrow and hard days, And a woman’s heart is yours. Look: under the distant vault The flaxen luna is walking... - Oh, quickly my youth - The falling star flashed by. But you, the time of love, has passed Even faster: only a year One day, near the Kagul waters We met every other tab... I was sleeping peacefully; dawn of the baubles near la, I woke up: there was no one else! I'm looking for a call - and no trace is gone... - I swear, and here I am - I would not have spared the evildoer; I'm in the waves of the sea, without turning pale, And defenseless about g about b about l about l; Sudden horror of awakening Fierce laughter about me reproached, And for a long time about me his fall Funny and sweet... - No, completely! Don't hurt you! I despise your threats, Your murders about the wedge... Die, you too! - I love you... Or under the mouth In a deep crevice near the cliff... Let us add to these excerpts the entire epilogue, collecting the basic elements of the poetic harmony of the whole creation from the musical representation of the “nebula” of memories, through the dull echoes of swearing “hums”, to the sweet melancholy of the sound of “Mariula”, in order to end with the consonance of the tragic horror that breathes the last lines: In the deserts there was no escape from troubles, Here only the vowel instrumentation is emphasized; but the leitmotif of “dear Mariula” is not in her alone. This is not the place to enter into the metaphysics of sound and the analysis of names and words from this side: this will be done later, when discussing Kabbalah. But, nevertheless, it would be useful to outline the sound-ontological structure of at least one given name in a few strokes. To facilitate sound analysis, we transcribe the name Mariula in Hebrew letters; it will be: Now, for the sake of complete impartiality, let’s take the characteristics of these sounds, as metaphysical principles, in someone else’s words. According to Fabre d'Olivet 344. 1. מ M “The sign is maternal and feminine (in the sense of a female): a local and plastic sign; external, passive mode of action. It has a connection with the idea of ​​motherhood." 2. א A “This first letter of the alphabet is both a sign of power and stability. The idea that it expresses is the idea of ​​unity and beginning, a defining unity.” 3. ר R “The sign of any proper movement, good or bad: the primitive accelerating sign; an image of the renewal of things, since it is a matter of their movement.” 4. י I “An image of the discovery of power: a sign of spiritual duration, eternity, time and all ideas related here: the letter is remarkable in its nature as a vowel; but which loses all its properties, passing into a consonant state, in which it depicts only material duration, a type of connection or movement.” 5. ן OU, W “This letter represents the image of the deepest and most incomprehensible mystery, the image of a knot connecting, or a point separating being and non-being. This is a reversible universal sign, a sign that transfers from one nature to another; communicating, on the one hand, with the sign of light and the spiritual feeling ן, which is the same, but more elevated, and, on the other hand, connecting with its expression, with the sign of darkness and the material feeling ע, which again is the same, but more lowered.” 6. ל L “The sign of expansionary movement: it is attached to all ideas of extension, elevation, taking up space, taking possession. As a final sign, it is an image of the power that comes from exaltation.” It is interesting to apply de Brosse's “organic alphabet” 345 to the same analysis. As is known, he expresses vowel sounds with the length of the vocal pipe, correspondingly lowering the horizontal line on the vertical - the diagram of the pipe itself (we will not touch on details and subtleties here); He gives consonants with a schematic representation of the organs that produce them, articulating the sound of the vocal trumpet, and, more precisely, the place and method of articulation is indicated, respectively, by dots and other signs. He has six main signs for vowels: diagrams lips, throat, teeth, palate, tongue and nose Speech transcribed by the “organic alphabet” extremely clearly represents its phonetic nature, and both its main sound lines and the smallest details are clearly visible. In our case, the name Mariula will be written In the sense of the vowel side of the name, we see how the pitch curve constantly ascends (vertically), having the greatest tonic stress and the greatest length of sound on the vowel, which is by nature the highest. The tonic pitch curve coincides with the phonic pitch curve, which achieves the greatest smoothness, organicity and sound integrity of the name. As for the consonant articulation of sound, here too the “organic writing” reveals a smooth sequence of organs used: the corners of the lips, the end of the tongue, the palate and again the tongue, now in its middle part. And this curve of deepening into the vocal organ has its apex in the same place as the curve of the vowel sound. This is a magnificent sound organism, tightly knit, in which each sound serves to strengthen the whole. And this whole whole thing has to raise its peak as expressively as possible - the sound u, the dominant of the entire poem. Therefore, it is important to think about this sound. Let's return to Fabre d'Olivet. “ן, O, OU, W. This letter has two very different vowel meanings, and the third is a consonant. According to the first of these vowel meanings, it represents the human eye and becomes a symbol of light; according to the second, it represents the ear and becomes a symbol of air wind, sound; as a consonant, it is the emblem of water and represents taste and lust. If we consider this letter as a grammatical sign, then it reveals the image of the deepest and most immediate secret, the image of a knot that connects and a point that separates non-existence and being. In its light vowel meaning ן, it is a sign of intellectual meaning, a sign primarily verbal ---; in its airy meaning, ן is a universal converting sign, one that forces one to move from one nature to another; communicating, on the one hand, with the sign of the intellectual meaning ן, which is the same, but more sublime; and on the other – with the sign of the material meaning ע, which is the same, but lowered; finally, in its watery consonantal meaning it is the connection of all things, a connecting sign...” Next is the “root” לא, AO. The potential sign א, attached to the universal reversible sign, the image of the mysterious knot that connects non-being with being, gives one of the most difficult roots to understand... As its meaning is generalized, one can see how from it all concepts of lust, of concupiscible passion, of vague desire are born; as it narrows, there can be revealed only a feeling of insecurity and doubt, which fades away in the union or.” These are the writer's true words. Now let's ask ourselves: Isn’t Fabre d’Olivet talking about “Gypsies” with his characterization? Isn’t it the contrast between the strong y, the boundless free desire (the element of gypsyism) and the weak y, the y - doubt and reflexive splitting (the element of groundless civilization) that Pushkin’s poem is built? But let’s finally check the analysis of the name Mariul and the entire poem, as highlighting the sound y, the sound painting of another poet. The mermaid swam along the blue river, And she tried to splash to the moon And noisy and spinning, the river swayed And the mermaid sang - and the sound of her words Flew to steep banks. And the mermaid sang: “At the bottom of me There are herds of golden fish walking there; There are crystal cities there. And there on a cushion of bright sands Under the shade of thick reeds The knight sleeps, the prey of a jealous wave, The knight of the other side is sleeping. So the mermaid sang over the blue river, Full of incomprehensible melancholy... 346 It is this incomprehensible female longing, wet and watery, free and boundless, like a wave, a female chaotic force, yearning for the limit imperiously imposed on it and rebelling against every powerless limit, in Gypsies it is contrasted with the spiritually insignificant and therefore powerless Aleko, in “The Mermaid” - the dead knight of the other side. The same instrumentation in “Mtsyri” contrasts the powerlessness of man in general, especially of men locked within the walls of culture, with the feminine element of free and freedom-loving nature. In the song of the fish - the same image is female and wet - in the final stanza the fish reveals the driving force of its call - its love - its unrealizable love for the drowned youth; here again the same call is heard: I love it like a free stream, And the same motive of unsatisfied desire, wet elements and inhuman longing for love in a similar “song of mermaids” - in Pushkin. But this longing for infinity in spontaneous life, the yearning of the chaotic will to express itself and, moreover, not limit itself to image and form - this is internally contradictory. Calling for immeasurable fullness, it destroys: at the border of being and non-being. In the longing for this border and the impossibility of reaching it without being destroyed, in man’s desire to merge with nature, with its generative depths, but, together, to avoid its destructive and all-consuming abyss - this internal contradiction lies the main tragedy of Byron’s worldview. Artistic types are deep generalizations of reality; although subconscious, they are extremely general and extremely precise guidance. The artistic type condenses perception and is therefore truer than life itself and more real than reality itself. Once an open, artistic type enters our consciousness as a new category of worldview and understanding of the world. But, if so, then it would be absolutely incomprehensible why, trusting the sensitivity of the artist in general and entrusting to him for remaking our eye, which sees, and our mind, which thinks, why we could suddenly become suspicious of the very names around which and, let’s face it, from which this new category of world perception and understanding of the world crystallizes in artistic creativity. It is incomprehensible by what right, on what basis we would allow ourselves to doubt the inner truth of that, on the central necessity of which a vigilant and sensitive researcher of reality especially insists. Having recognized the particulars, how can one reject the main thing? If the matter were about a separate type, discovered by a separate master of words, then, let’s not argue, in this case, doubt is not excluded, but only because he, precisely, seems to be exceptional. However, we are not talking about the possible failure of one or another name, from which literature is not immune, just as it is not protected from unsuccessfully formed types in general, but about names in general. And here, declaring all literary names in general, a name as such, as arbitrary and random, subjectively invented and conventional signs of types and artistic images, would be a flagrant misunderstanding of artistic creativity. Anyone who has delved into how artistic images are conceived and born and what the artist’s inner attitude towards them is, it is clear that to declare names as random nicknames, and not as the central cores of the images themselves, is the same as accusing all literature, as such, by its very nature, of subjectivity and randomness. So, undoubtedly, in art there is an internal necessity of names - of an order no less than that of the named images. These images, however, are nothing more than names in expanded form. The complete unfolding of these spiritual centers, coiled into themselves, is carried out by the whole work, which is the space of the force field of the corresponding names. Artistic images are intermediate degrees of such self-disclosure of names into the space of the work - that body in which the very first of the manifestations of the invisible and inaudible, inaccessible to either perception or comprehension, existing in itself and for itself, is clothed - a name. The name is the subtlest flesh through which the spiritual essence is declared. “With some barely audible breath,” K. K. Sluchevsky argues in general about Fornarina, “this beautiful woman flows next to the historical appearance of the famous lover, a mixture of legend and truth, someone’s assumptions and hints, someone’s indiscreet peeping and one’s own carelessness, and on this light fabric does not even weigh on the lightest of all types of flesh - the name!” 347. The unmanifested spiritual essence is everything and nothing, everything about itself and nothing to the world. And without another, without another essence, there is no reason for her to come out of herself and reveal herself. She is not in space. Space, the space of a work of art, this world closed in on itself, arises through the relationship of the spiritual essence to another. Space is generated by the self-manifestation of the essence, it is the light from it, and therefore, the structure of space in a given work reveals the internal structure of the essence, there is a projection of it and a clear narrative about it. But on the way to such a spatial arrangement, an organ of this activity arises. He is already in space; it can be compared to a point that is not extended, but coordinated with others. This dot is a name. The entire space of the work serves as a manifestation of the spiritual essence and, therefore, naming it, can be interpreted as its name; but in its truest sense, only the name is extremely adjacent to the essence as its primary discovery or first manifestation, and therefore, it primarily names the essence in the fullness of its energies. Other names either cannot be expressed in one word, or are one-sided, analytically detached, and therefore not always characteristic signs of personality; and one’s own name, the internal concentration of other names, can be expressed in one word and covers the full circle of personality energies. While every other name is suitable under certain circumstances and in certain particular cases, this one is always applicable and always cognitively valuable. Every other name is ultimately established on this, basically, through the formula ό καί, “qui et”, “he”, and only this one, serving as a support for everyone, itself is no longer based on the name, but on the essence itself. It must, in the complex system of mutually supported names that form the space of a literary work, there must finally be a last one, or last ones, by which the entire system is restrained and through which the energy of the spiritual essence nourishes and vivifies the entire system. The echoing alliterations of “Gypsy” - all in a distant sense, serve as a revelation of the spiritual essence of the poem and in this sense it is not unfair to see in them the names of this essence. However, all of them do not directly name it, and like the distant hums of multiple echoes, increasingly less clear, they carry with their sounds the same original name Mariula, and it, dominating all others, with an indisputable right should be attributed to the essence itself, but not as a response, but as a direct manifestation of it. And I repeat: there must be a spring somewhere, flowing otherworldly moisture to the work by which it lives and is organized. And in this case, if this is not a name, then where is he? Meanwhile, we know that a work, one that lives, born from the author, and not mechanically put together by him, it relies on some primary intuition and serves as its embodiment. So, I ask, where exactly does this intuition strike? Where does the lightning of revelation strike the entire verbal organism? Around what exactly does it begin? After all, this first cell of it must be verbal: whatever the process of pre-verbal maturation, at some point it finally becomes verbal, and then, consequently, there is a certain verbal first appearance. Some verbal cell takes precedence over others. And it contains all the completeness of formative intuition - in the bud - the whole plant. And then this verbal first cell, the place of entry from the wordless world into the verbal, we cannot equate, in its dignity and full-fledged intensity of being, with all the others that follow: no matter how similar the copy is to the original, and everything is by the original, and not by them, artistic energy is introduced into the world, they only expand the area of ​​​​its introduction. You can further clarify the same idea by talking about a name as about a body, a human body, for example. The instrument of influence of the inner essence on the world and the organ of formation of the space of life relations, the body is exceptionally close to the force of formation, which builds it for itself. The body further organizes, in accordance with the force field of its form, the entire space of life relations, but indirectly. And this space can be called the body of a given person, as well as its individual parts; however, in the proper sense, only a small part of space, directly permeated by the energy of life, is called a body - the microcosm, and not the entire macrocosm. There is no doubt: in literary creativity, names are categories of personal knowledge, because in the creative imagination they have the power of personal forms. However, this is true not only in works of individual creativity, but also in folk art. It is natural to expect some arbitrariness and a touch of subjectivity where one speaks on his own behalf and under his own responsibility. But, in fact, significant poets have incomparably less of this arbitrariness than a superficial calculation would suggest. Creativity is collective, where everything is always created again and therefore everything is constantly tested by the experience of life, - where there is nothing once and for all recognized and established, but with each new transfer it is subject to purification from subjective inventions, where every verbal achievement is polished by the very use, there the stability and essence of names should be especially revealed if they are essential, and decisively refuted if they are not. Historical experience must show whether the people, whether the language itself recognizes names as empty nicknames, conventionally attached to their bearers and therefore giving nothing to the knowledge of the bearer, or whether it believes to find in the name a formula of personality, a key to the make-up and structure of a personal appearance, some universale, very concrete, very close to this, the haecceitas of a person, although not identical with this. For now we are talking only about folk literature, although it never closes itself within the boundaries of art abstracted from life and has vital meaning and purpose. Whatever type of folk literature we take, we will certainly encounter a typology of personal names. Certain names in folk literature correspond in different works to the same types, the same not only in the sense of psychological make-up and moral character, but also in the sense of life destiny and line of behavior. This means: in the popular consciousness, the name defines not only individual signs or traits, taken separately, that is, one-dimensional and two-dimensional sections of the spiritual organism, but also its three-dimensional section - the instantaneous relationship of the elements of the personality; and the matter is not limited to this, for the personality’s organism is four-dimensional, and its biography is its four-dimensional form. The foretelling of fate and biography by the name in works of folk literature serves as evidence that for the popular consciousness there is a four-dimensional time-spatial form of personality, limiting it from head to toe, from right shoulder to left, from chest to back and from birth to grave. The brief formula of content within these boundaries is the name. In some cases, in a name, folk art notes, as has been said, this or that individual feature or some small number of them, especially significant ones, and then - although not significant, but, obviously, by correlation with some significant, but vague for formulation, very aptly and not by chance peeped bearers of the given name. Such a sign will often seem secondary and whimsical; but it is precisely this that briefly testifies to the whole world of internal relationships; it, insignificant in itself, is the clearest indicator of a complex system of correlations. Such a sign is an emblem of personality, and those who know will read more from it than from an extensive but sluggish narrative. Thus, the nose of the Bourbons characterizes their generic essence more than extensive messages about the thoughts and deeds of one or another of them. Thus, in biology, a small characteristic of a species can be much more characteristic than a detailed description of its various essential, but not peculiar, features. Proverbs and sayings about names, often caustic and deadly true, teasers, ditties, and sometimes songs, mark such signs. At times, these volatile works, mostly mocking or abusive and not always decent, are verbally connected by internal rhyme; and then you can think about the phonetic nature of their comparisons: the supposedly characteristic feature is pulled here, it will seem at first, by the hair for the sake of consonance. But it will seem so only at first, just as at first it may seem that the poems were composed for the sake of rhyme. And even deeper, in the very consonance, an internal necessity is revealed, and the rhyme is predetermined in its meaning: in fact, - at least according to the popular consciousness - isn’t it natural that the property of a name, which follows analytically from it, should be expressed with a sound similar to the sound of the name itself. It would even be strange if the identical could not be expressed by consonance. And therefore, the meaning predetermines the rhyme, and the rhyme hints at the unity of meaning. But there is no need to connect the fate of onomatology with a certain direction of philosophical poetics. Both disciplines have independent areas that only partially cover each other, and onomatology must remain independent, partly on philosophical evidence, partly on observations and guidance from historical experience. Rationalistic thought is accustomed to talking about names as a vivid example of imaginary generalizations that do not correspond to any reality. “With philosophers, apparently, the situation is approximately the same as with individuals who bear the name of Paul, in relation to whom no one could find the common characteristic on the basis of which they bear this common name. Any designation rests on historical arbitrariness and therefore can, to a certain extent, be independent of the essence of the signified.” This is what Windelbandt believes, 348 and with him countless other rationalists. And this denial of nominal typology, of course, would have to be taken into account if those who express it actually recognized something specifically general, a type, a first appearance, an idea, a form - whatever you want to call it. But it was they who crushed every form into bricks; It was they who cut the Word of God into lines and words, crushed the language into sounds, crushed the body into molecules, decomposed the soul into a bundle of associations and a stream of mental states, declared God as a system of categories, assessed great people as lumps gathered from the dust of centuries - in general, everything was decisively dissolved into elements, which dissolved, in turn, leading the former reality to the illusion of form and the insignificance of content. It would even be surprising to hear from this nihilism, which fundamentally rejected the very concept of type, anything other than denial in relation to types of such a high order, in which names are involved. A thought of this kind does not see the forest for the trees at all, and therefore must either be discarded or assimilated entirely in its essence - He did not want to bless 349. The point here is not at all about names. But when thought is not directed by this preconceived goal - to destroy the form, but with it, all of existence, exposing it in non-existence - then, among the various types of different hierarchical dignity, the names are recognized by thinkers and observers of life as having a high rank, one of the highest. It is precisely its height, that is, the degree of generality and the condensing power of names, that makes these types of personal existence difficult to access, difficult to explain, difficult to assimilate in practical thinking. Here, however, we are talking about the thinking of those who, although they overcame the general rationalism of the recent past, did not rebuild their inner life so much that objective thinking and typological categories became habitual skills and went on by themselves, without deliberate effort. On the contrary, since ancient times, popular thinking has condensed through conciliar experience a number of nominal types and... a firm conviction about the vital significance of names. It is not for nothing that the very word ὄνομα, used in the biblical language in the frequent sense of a person, turned out to be, instead of the supposed Hebraism, the usual saying of the Hellenistic language: Hell. Deissmann, Albert Thumb and others established the use of the word ὄνομα - in the sense of person - in the language of papyri and inscriptions 350. A name is a person, a personality, and this or that name is a personality of one or another typical type. Not only for a fairy-tale hero, but also for a real person, his name either foreshadows or brings his character, his mental and physical traits into his destiny: verba efficiant quod significant 351 - this formula of Thomas Aquinas is the general conviction of peoples, but with the addition: et quomodo sonant 352. In particular, it applies to names. Names are divided into groups in the popular consciousness. If the priest gives the baptized person the name of a saint, this promises him a happy life, and if the name of a martyr, his life will become one continuous torment. Usually the name emphasizes his royalty, love of poverty and other qualities. It says “in the name.” Yes, in the name, and not in the saint, for the saint himself has a certain make-up of his personality and a certain curve in his life’s path, as the bearer of his name - the elder brother of his namesakes by sonship of the name, but not a father. In the lives, prologues, and church hymns there are numerous indications about the saints’ vivid expression of the spiritual essence of their name. “By name and life” is a stereotypical formula of lives; by name - life, not name by life. The name is assessed by the Church, and after it by the entire Orthodox people, as a type, as a spiritual concrete norm of personal existence, as an idea; and the saint is as its best exponent, having made his empirical existence transparent so that through him the noblest light of this name shines on us. And yet the name is ontologically first, and its bearer, even a saint, is second; The Lord himself, who had not yet been conceived on earth, was pre-prepared from eternity with a name brought by an Angel. Moreover, people. “You lived worthy of your name, George,” is sung to the Saint. He, therefore, is pleased for the correspondence of his life to his name, and, therefore, the name is recognized as ontologically honest. One of the usual edifying topics is about imitation of the saints of the same name and about their patronage, bearing a common name with them. This is not a teaching about the protection of saints, in general, to all Christians who pray to them and resort to their intercession, and not, in general, an edification to realize Christian perfection in life and imitate all worthy examples. Undoubtedly, this speaks of an incomparably more unique selective affinity with the saint whose name you bear, of the patronage of this particular saint and of imitation not of saints in general, but of this specific one. But the first presupposes a special, grace-filled closeness to him, and the second - an affinity of the spiritual type and the general path of life: after all, it would be strange to direct spiritual attention in that direction, which is essentially indifferent, and perhaps alien to me, just as it would be strange to advise organizing your personality and life according to a model, perhaps, to me, specifically to me, spiritually alien. Such an indication and such advice certainly have as a prerequisite the internal unity of the organization of all bearers of a well-known name, including the saint who awaits our contemplation as the artistic embodiment of the nominal type. Otherwise, the task would be to take on an image and path that is spiritually alien, exposing someone else, without an inner essence, imitation - some kind of acting that not only does not contribute to the revelation and enlightenment of the personality, but, on the contrary, suppresses it, killing its spiritual freedom and self-determination. Only by mastering the ecclesiastical and universal understanding of names as formative forces that truly unite ontologically all their bearers can one learn the doctrine of the patronage of saints and imitation of them. The popular idea of ​​nominal typology, apparently, is not without vital significance - and the characteristics of names, if they do not serve, then, in any case, served to guide behavior. One of the monuments of this kind of manuals, fixed in writing by a fragment of an entire culture of names, can be represented by the famous “Register of Ladies and Fair Maidens,” which was printed at one time on Russian folk pictures, with a corresponding image. Here is the registry: “REGISTER ABOUT LADIES AND BEAUTIFUL GIRLS Vasilisa's eyes are clouded. Agrafen's cheerful conversation. Fat and simple Afrosinya. Marina will say something and feed her. Pelageya is always humble. The ever-present bustle of Christening. Promise not to lie Sophia. Khavronya's thief's gaze. Jump and dance Afimya. Good lust Nastasya. Cake master Theodora. Pot-killer Minodora. Crimean harlot Nymphodora. Tatiana's crafty conversation. Cheerful conversation Margarida. Praskovya looks great. The Moor is simple without guile. Make Kaptelin laugh. Take a walk with the guys Matryona. Old lady Solomenida will kick and fart.” Russian folk pictures. Collected and described by D. Rovinsky. The posthumous work was published under the supervision of N. Sobko. T. 1st. St. Petersburg, 1900. Column. 104, fig. 123. Bertha is simple and modest. Henri has a benevolent character. Irma is neat and caring, Juliette is quarrelsome and disorderly. Leon is even afraid of his own shadow. Nellie is lazy and inattentive. Paul is neat and thorough. Rosalia rejoices in the well-being of others. Simon is absent-minded and foolish, Valentina is very reserved. Zoya has all the qualities.” Each name is explained by a hand-colored engraving depicting the most characteristic action of the boy or girl of the corresponding name. Thus, the dressed-up Agatha, in white gloves, with bows and under a pink umbrella, arrogantly steps along the path, while the modestly dressed Bertha humbly stands with a basket and prayer book; Charles politely bows to the teacher, and Daniel, from behind a peeling wall, pokes his nose at him; Gaston violently beats the dog with a whip, while Henri caresses it; Callistus saves a baby from a house engulfed in flames, and Leon rushes in fear from his own shadow on the wall, although it is very scary. Marie is teaching her lesson at her desk, and Nellie is in the corner on her knees with her hands tied and wearing orange donkey ears, shedding tears; Ursula peers through the keyhole, and Valentina indignantly pushes away a sealed letter from someone else, handed to her by her friend, etc. Whatever the value of individual characteristics, the very idea of ​​​​comparing forty-six female names with definitions literally in a nutshell testifies to close and long-term experience and keen thought; but these characteristics are undoubtedly not random epithets, but the result of great thoughtfulness, expressed in an apt word. This register alone is a laconic but true expression of experience, condensed over many generations. But, of course, no matter how expressive the Russian folk word is, it would be difficult to expect a complete characterization of such complex spiritual organisms as names by two signs, and in this sense, doubts and objections are possible whether the given signs in the name capture the most essential thing. But it would be wrong to consider a nominal characteristic the property of only the “folk,” as they say, that is, the common people’s experience and common people’s thoughts. Indifference to the names of the majority of any thoughtful people, albeit for reasons that are vaguely conscious and covered by external considerations of euphony or superficial associations of social indecency for well-known estates and social classes of names allegedly adopted by another estate or class - this indifference is also evidence of some kind of half-conscious intuition. Thus, parents often weigh what name to give their child, just as a boy and, even more so, a girl, think a little about the name of the opposite party when marriage is possible. True, contrary to the usual judgment about the consciousness of the upper classes and classes, as opposed to the unconsciousness of the lower ones, the intuition of the latter here, as in many other cases, is incomparably more conscious, more definite and, in the words of Dostoevsky, “more responsive” than the inner feeling of the former. But, nevertheless, this is still some kind of experience, albeit in an indistinct language, but, nevertheless, inspiring, warning and prophesying even to the consciousness of an “intelligent” person cluttered with prejudices. For people who are spiritually educated and have accustomed themselves to listen more carefully to the testimony of immediate experience, and with its polysyllabic deposits in words forged over centuries, the vital meaning of names is usually formulated in the form of some general rules - to always take into account the names of persons who encounter us in life, and not to neglect the testimony of these names. Thus, the late Bishop Anthony (Florensov) always attached great importance to names and surnames, thought about them, and drew his conclusions from them 353. Thus, the Elder of Optina, Hieroschemamonk Ambrose, in one of his letters even advises thinking about first and last names as an essential material when discussing some life action. “...Don’t rush, but consider the matter of marriage from all sides, and consider it thoroughly,” writes Elder Ambrose. “It also doesn’t hurt to examine and get to know thoroughly the very person with whom you are thinking of finding worldly well-being—besides his own properties, consider his very position and the very circumstances surrounding him. All this taken together is of great importance. As some have remarked, sometimes favorable and unfavorable properties are expressed in the very name of people” 354. Regarding these considerations, we will give several examples when the first and last names turned out to be clearly significant. Until we begin to analyze the inner meaning of such coincidences, their metaphysics. Let these be raw facts. But no matter why these attention-grabbing historical parallelisms occur, a sober observer of life should not bypass them, hiding in the asylum ignorantiae 355 - chance. We may not understand how such parallelisms are possible, but uniformity inevitably forces us to look for a single formula for them, and behind the formula to anticipate the common cause of events. “There are no surnames without Katerina,” writes Ya. I. Bulgakov on November 28, 1804 to his son in Naples. - Why? Because our mother, our god, was Katerina (i.e., Empress Catherine II), and, although not yet a saint, everyone considered it a blessing to give her name to their daughters, just as everyone now gives their sons the name Alexander. I have been so in love with the name Katerina all my life that the woman who bears it has always had the right to my respect and friendship.” Here is an example of some historical phenomenon in the field of names. It may seem superficial, and it is deliberately taken as understandable or seemingly understandable. A lot of similar fads of a famous name at a certain time can be imagined from history, and all of them are built according to the above scheme: a revered Sovereign or some other person who stands in plain sight and attracts attention, as a ruler, leader, great talent, etc., calls on others to imitate him, and since they cannot change their name, they try to plant the name of such a person in their family, in their clan. Thus, at a certain time the percentage of a certain name increases noticeably. Whatever the mechanism of this increase, its very fact undoubtedly indicates the saturation of this name, at least for a given time, with significant content, as recognized by the society of that time. With this name, a complex of well-known ideas and emotions is spread in society. Here it is not important to decide the question of a metaphysical order, whether it is substantial or only phenomenal, in which case the name, as the bearer of the above-mentioned complex; Yes, in sociological terms there can be no talk of metaphysical substances. But, undoubtedly, in such cases, the name serves as a relatively unchanged and stable carrier of the above-mentioned complex and, therefore, in sociological order, in fairness, deserves the name of the substrate in the corresponding group of phenomena - if you wish, it can be called - substance, of course, not an absolute metaphysical substance, but a relative one, just as the term “substance” is understood in all scientific disciplines. No more, no less: after all, in general, in no scientific field do we know substances that are absolutely unchangeable, and we are always talking about stability, in comparison with the known field of processes; Even metaphysics itself is not currently inclined towards the concept of absolute stability. So, in one period or another of history, at least some names should be recognized as receiving the character of substances, and, in different cases, the longevity and full-bloodedness of these substances are very different. And then, from facts similar to the above about the name Catherine, another conclusion follows, much deeper than it seems to superficial deniers of names, as some sociological entities. The point is this: when a certain name spreads in society, this, in any case, happens due to attention to it and a positive assessment of it. Consequently, such a name, as associated with cherished feelings, recognition, devotion, love, reverence, is given to those who are loved, towards whom tender feelings are directed. But if I, a gentle father, call my daughter by the name of my beloved Empress, obviously, behind such a name I assume some kind of strength, some kind of significance. I, as I realize, bestow this name on my daughter and, therefore, it would be psychologically absurd to think of me as if I, the giver, and, moreover, with tenderness, recognize my gift as nothing. To recognize a name as an empty ghost, a shadow of shadows, a powerless nonentity and a conventional nickname and, at the same time, to bring this nonentity in the fullness of tender feelings as the first gift to a baby who has been delighted with its birth is psychologically absolutely impossible. After all, this would be disgusting hypocrisy in front of oneself, an unbearable falsehood in one’s most sacred feelings. And it would not even contradict a moral duty, but a natural instinct, according to which the worst person, without breaking down or pretending, actually loves his child and really wants to give him all the best, according to the power of his understanding. Consequently, behind the spread of a famous name described above, there is hidden, perhaps not a fully conscious, but quite reliable conviction that names, if not all, then at least this highly valued one, are really something, a real gift and that, brilliantly revealed by a famous historical person, it is capable of transferring from this person at least part of his superiority to an infant baptized with this name. Numerous Catherines of the 18th century, according to the conviction of their fathers, in fact should have shown some kind of reflection of Mother Catherine by the power of the name they received: with the name, their parents gave them special opportunities, somehow likening them to the one who was “god” in the eyes of society. This is how, at least, although half-consciously, Catherine’s parents thought about the name of their daughters, and, therefore, sociologically, already by virtue of this belief, the name is a huge and deep phenomenon of paramount importance. We say: “they thought so,” “they believed so.” But they not only thought and believed, but they also think and believe. This conviction in the power and significance of names is an ongoing phenomenon, and, as a constant in the life of society, it cannot but be considered an important factor in social life: it permeates it. And, if we see even in our time, deliberately far from mysticism, a protest against certain names, then doesn’t this mean faith in our time in the power and essentiality of names? Here, for example, is an article from a modern newspaper: “...The Glavocracy turned factories into numbers and thought that this could be enough. All attempts to encourage the renaming of plants and factories in the Soviet style were broken by the arrogance of the central government and lack of understanding of the psychological and even political side of this matter. It’s the same as if we kept regiments in the army named after the Grand Duke or Duke of Oldenburg, etc., etc. It's time to finally give plants and factories Soviet names. Along with the names, I make a proposal: 1) invite the plant managements, in agreement with the plant committees, to submit several names to the general meeting of the plants for a final vote by the masses themselves; 2) final approval of the name belongs to the Moscow Council; 3) all this renaming work must be completed before the 5th October anniversary; 4) the celebration of the name of plants and factories to coincide with the October anniversary; 5) strictly prohibit, after a certain period of time, naming factories in official documents, statements, speeches, articles, etc. – the name of the former owners. Member of the Moscow Council L. Trotsky.” (“Working Moscow”, 1922, No. 14). Until now, we have been talking about the social significance of names, since they serve as points of application for well-known beliefs and convictions of peoples: names may be nothing, but people recognize them as something and, due to this recognition, names behave in the life of society as certain focuses of social energy; Let these tricks be imaginary, but for the eye that sees them, even imaginary, they are quite equivalent to real tricks. But we can hardly limit ourselves to such a formulation of the question. Culture is reality in terms of goals, and social life is structured teleologically. One can resist the very setting of this or that goal in history, but it would be a misunderstanding of the historical process to deny the very expediency of the elements of social life; undoubtedly, they always serve some needs of society, and therefore it is unreasonable to think that there may be no reality behind them. A social phenomenon that does not correspond to some reality and hangs in emptiness, thereby ceases to be expedient, because it, being a self-deception and an illusion of society, would not only not serve the corresponding needs of society, but, on the contrary, would stand as an obstacle to its satisfaction. What is illusory and empty cannot be social, if by the latter term we mean something that is in any way stable and natural. Social life is permeated through and through with the desire for goals and does not tolerate anything useless and aimless, not to mention harmful. And, meanwhile, what could be more harmful than delusion? What could be more inappropriate than a false understanding of reality, instilling faith in something that does not exist and diverting thought from what exists? It’s clear that even if something like this arose, it would not gain either widespread or, especially, long-term success. Nevertheless, such phenomena of thought could count on universality in space and time: this is, at best, a fashion, a hobby, although such necessarily have behind them certain needs, but in no way permanent and internally necessary aspects of the life of society. The illusory passes away, and what remains in the flow of history and is characteristic of all humanity is thereby evidenced as full-fledged - by the truth of life. Let its formula not be proclaimed quite adequately; and in what area of ​​human thought, at least in the disciplines of exact knowledge, can we find final adequacy? But, nevertheless, the historical strength of these formulas proves that there is something behind them, some genuine experience of humanity, and the degree of universality of the formula is measured by the degree of purity and authenticity of the experience itself. More often than not, we do not know how to explain the experience on which the social formula is based. However, this is not evidence against experience itself: after all, in general, science does not explain, but only describes, and the “intelligibility” of a certain category of phenomena is only their familiarity, a certain psychological mass of them that came through thought, while individual experiences do not find a suitable place for themselves in the general mental structure, and therefore, it seems that they lack something - there is a lack of related experiences that facilitate the general formulation. Something is incomprehensible when there is little of it; and when there is a lot of incomprehensible, it passes for understandable. Thus, returning to names, the universal human formula about the significance of names and the connection with each of them of a certain spiritual and, in part, psychophysical structure, stable across centuries and peoples, leads to the necessary recognition that in beliefs of this kind there really is something objective and that humanity, always and everywhere affirming names as substantial forces or forceful substances or energies, had behind it the genuine experience of centuries and peoples, resulting in the above form. This “something” that aroused and arouses attention to names, apparently, despite its everyday occurrence, is somewhat vague, and perhaps that is why it appears vague, like everything that never stops, that is everyday. The low accessibility to analysis and conscious formulation of all too familiar impressions is well known. Nevertheless, the field of onomatology reaches the consciousness of those who are blocked from it by a whole system of preconceived premises. But in some cases, specific phenomena arise that amaze even a biased observer. In the soul they give rise to an involuntary feeling of their authenticity, which cannot be avoided by reference to the randomness of such coincidences, and then such events stand as guardians of an area protected from the intrusions of rationalism. These guardians force even the thoughtless, at least for a moment, to think and feel in the names the emblems of something incomprehensible to them. Let a few historical examples, taken at random, clarify the matter. According to Suetonius, in the patrician family of the Claudii “they bore different names and nicknames: but the name Lucius was excluded by common consent, when of the two who bore this name, one was accused of robbery, the other of murder” 356. As A. M. Ryleev noted, “On March 1, after the divorce in the Mikhailovsky Manege, the Emperor (Alexander II) drank tea at the Grand Duchess Ekaterina Mikhailovna, where Princess Ekaterina Mikhailovna Yuryevskaya (Dolgorukaya) was also invited, but did not come. The murder was committed on the Catherine Canal. The wedding of the Tsar and Princess Dolgoruka took place at 3 o'clock. 33 min. afternoon" 357 . There are some significant congestion of names and titles in history. We will not come up with deliberate explanations for them, but we will not deny them either. Thus, in the history of the Sich it is noted: “The famous Koshevoy Sulima took the Kodak, built by the Poles in 1663, and thereby restored the independence of the Zaporozhye Sich, and in 1775 the jailer, so to speak, of the same Sich was the Cossack regiment of Sulima” 358. From the biography of Anthony (Amphiteatrov), Archbishop of Kazan: “As a harbinger of his imminent death, - namely, in 1879, His Grace Anthony, Archbishop of Kazan, recognized the fact that in the near future, three Anthonys, the former Bishop of Perm, who was retired in Moscow, the vicar father, died one after another Trinity-Sergius Lavra and Archbishop of Vladimir. “The whole “ordo Antoniev” has already moved into eternity,” he said more than once, “and now it’s my direct turn. You see, from Moscow it went like this through Vladimir on the way to Kazan...” 359. At these words it was impossible not to see in him a deep positive confidence in the omen.” At first one can think of such coincidences as artificial comparisons: what does the unification of the four Anthonys mean, when during this time hundreds of Ivans, Petrovs, etc. died; the relative number of such deaths, considered significant, to the total mortality is so insignificant that it hardly deserves attention. But with such reasoning, the social significance of the deaths being discussed is forgotten. True, there are many dying, but not many dying Bishops, when in general there are few of them, so the almost simultaneous death of four, and, moreover, of the same name, is a very unlikely event. Consequently, when it did happen, we cannot help but think about the special reasons that led to it. Egalitarian concepts, no matter how one treats them in a normative manner, in any case do not correspond to the current historical reality; whether it is good or bad, the structure of all existing societies is based on all sorts of inequalities. Due to such inequalities, different members of society have different spheres of influence and activity that are different in content and volume - different specific weights and coefficients of social significance. Consequently, since the significance of natural phenomena or manifestations of culture is recognized as possible, then there is nothing to be surprised that more intelligible signs relate mainly to the greats of this world. Even though they individually cannot be recognized, especially before other members of society, as deserving of signs, let there be many people who are morally, mentally and in other respects more worthy. But the social position itself - power, influence, recognition, is also a fact, also something that is not indifferent in the world, even if it was aimed at evil; and they did not arise without reasons, even if these reasons did not meet with moral approval. Therefore, it is natural to expect the same reasons to spread to the area of ​​omens, a consonant echo of the same reasons in two parallel planes. Perhaps it seems unfair that the lot of the few falls not only to worldly significance, but, in addition, to the prophetic voices of signs. Unfair, but so: neither nature, nor history, nor spirituality knows justice - But, in addition, perhaps the small ones themselves are to blame if they do not see their signs, which are more modestly hidden in the thicket of events from prying eyes than the generally visible signs of people who do not belong to themselves and therefore, by their fate, are closely intertwined with the destinies of the entire society. In the end, there is a high level of expediency here: what is needed by everyone is accessible to everyone interested, to the entire society, while what is necessary for an individual and his loved ones is only noticeable to them. But precisely because, without having in hand a detailed description of their life, it is difficult for outsiders to talk about their signs, and the share of historical knowledge falls mainly on signs of general significance. Thus, Herbert, later Pope Sylvester II, was given a prediction that indicated in verse: Scandit ab R Gerbertus in R, post Papa viget R – Herbert ascends from P to P, and then the pope is ruled by R. Tkkovo's prediction; it, as we know, came true: in three stages of Herbert’s elevation - from Reims to Ravenna, and from Ravenna to Rome, and only these three chairs were occupied by Herbert. Geographical areas associated with historical events are important for the entire people, sometimes even for the whole world, therefore it is natural to hope to find signs of the future in geographical names, as if, a premonition by the country itself of future events, although only after their occurrence the significance of geographical names becomes publicly available. There are many such examples. Thus, “at the site of the Battle of Borodino there are proper names that originally belonged to this area, which, precisely, relate to the war: the river Kolona (or Koloch, i.e. from the verb to pound), on which stands the monastery, which received the name Kolotsky from it, the Stonets stream, the Ognik stream, the Voina stream. This remarkable coincidence has been noticed for a long time.” Also: “the extreme limit of the French campaign in the Kaluga province, from which they turned back to Smolensk, is called Spas Prognan. There is a village called Akatovo – Spas – which is located in Prognany, Borovsky district, Kaluga province.” Also: “Napoleon I read Ossian. At this time, his comrade, Marshal Bernadotte, had a son, whom General Bonaparte’s father asked to baptize. Occupied by Ossian, he gave the name Oscar, and fate led this Oscar to become the King of Sweden” 361. Some names are associated in history with a certain type of social relations and the nature of the resulting events. In part, such a historical typology of these names can, if desired, be deduced from the habits of thought and feeling that have firmly settled on a certain name, as a result of historical, very striking coincidences, and from the understandable tendency that then formed to use such a name as a slogan of the corresponding meaning. But even if so, then no matter why the name in question became significant in the consciousness of the people, it became so. For centuries, thoughts and feelings directed at him had a point of application in him, and, ultimately, acquired the energy to excite and direct social events and mental attitudes in a certain direction. Such a name has become the eye of the storm, the funnel of a whirlpool, exciting whirlwind movements in society, as soon as it has to deal with this name. This is the minimum recognition of the historical power of such names. But further follows. First, how could absolutely nothing grow into a powerful force? We “understand” an oak tree rising from an insignificant acorn, but this is because we recognize all the formative power of this giant as already contained in the acorn; if the actual existential insignificance of the acorn were proven to us, then we would never believe that this “nothing” is the cornerstone on which the entire totality of the life manifestations of the oak rests. In the same way, regarding the name, no matter how insignificant it may seem, the question arises what it is in itself; and whatever the subsequent answer, in any case, its general meaning is predetermined by the affirmation of the force reality and potential (even if only potential) structure of the name itself. This is, firstly, in ontological order. And, secondly, the empirical analysis of such historical significant names, along with possible habits and the resulting intentionality in using the name as a slogan, reveals elements that are obviously not subject to such interpretation and mysterious from the point of view of individual consciousness: there is something, an indecomposable psychological residue, testifying to the power of names. One of these historical names: Jacob. From antiquity to the present day, the whirlwinds that arise around the name of Jacob, collisions, upheavals, deceits, conspiracies, are associated with him, both on a large and small scale; Someone comes across this name and often dies. This is not a powerlessly woven intrigue, not just personal calculation and not a black betrayal out of self-interest or malice, but rather the systematic unfolding of some historical matter, the captured rhythm of history, gathered into one focus and trampling on everything that stands in the way. This is the fire of passion, but passion is not of feeling, but of will and reason, and there is nothing that he would not encroach on if it tries to stop the fire that has flared up. Of course, this is the name Jacob on a historical scale; in the personal, it does not reach this grandeur, but, nevertheless, determines the character and behavior clearly expressed by the ancestor of all Jacobs - the Forefather Jacob. However, now we want to consider this name as an emblem of a historical scale. “On St. Jacob’s Day (July 25), which probably replaced the ancient Perun holiday among the Czechs, in some places the custom has been preserved to this day, during special ceremonies, to throw down from a church tower, or from the roof, or from the highest window of any private house, a sacrificial goat with gilded horns, decorated with flowers. The blood of this animal is collected, carefully dried and stored as a real healing agent. His meat is eaten by the assembled crowd, which, at the end of this sacrificial feast, indulges in amusements and dancing.” Here are the first evaporations of blood swirling around the name of Jacob. They do not remain so light and thicken into bloody ghosts. In 1307, the Templar Order was arrested, preparing the overthrow of Christianity in the name of ancient Manichaeism, nurtured in its depths. Along with the religious revolution, the greatest social revolution was being prepared, which would rebuild the appearance of all of Europe. But the order was defeated, and its Grand Master, Jacob Mole, was burnt to death on March 18, 1314. But, under the influence of the order, which had enormous connections, this execution was postponed and from prison the prisoner carried out extensive organizational activities. Its fruit were four great Masonic lodges: in Naples - eastern, in Edinburgh - western, in Stockholm - northern, in Paris - southern. The secret society swore an oath of eternal hatred to the French royal house and the Catholic Church, as well as, in general, to the beginnings of the monarchy and churchliness. It carried this hatred, along with the motto: Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite, through the centuries and passed it on to the great revolution. From the name Mole, perhaps, the predilection of this secret society for everything that bore the name of Jacob is partly understandable; but not all coincidences here could depend on human preferences, no matter how ardent they may be. Thus, the name of the recognized inspirer of the French Revolution, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, given to him at baptism, could not depend on anyone’s intentions, because it was not because of the name Jacques that they saw him as the prophet of the revolution. In the very house on the Rue Platrière in which this Jacques died, a lodge was founded - the center of the revolutionary movement. “Jacobinism already had a name before the leaders of the conspiracy chose the old church of Jacobite monks as a place for their meetings. Their name comes from the name of Jacob - the name fatal for all revolutions. The old ravagers of France who made the Jacquerie were called "Jacques." The philosopher, whose fatal words were prepared for the new jacquerie, was called “Jean-Jacques,” and the secret movers of the revolution vowed to overthrow the throne and the altar on the tomb of Jacob Molay. During the September murders, some mysterious old man of enormous stature, with a long beard, appeared wherever priests were killed. “Here's to the Albigensians! - he exclaimed; - here's to the Templars! Here's to St. Bartholomew's Night! For the great convicts! He hacked left and right and was covered in blood from head to toe. His beard was matted with blood, and he swore loudly that he would wash it with blood. This was the same man who invited Mademoiselle de Sombreuille to drink a glass of blood “for the people.” After the execution of Louis XVI, this same eternal Jew of blood and revenge rose to the scaffold, plunged both hands into the royal blood and sprinkled the people, exclaiming: “French people! I baptize you in the name of Jacob and Freedom!” (Eliphas Levi)" 362. One of the same significant names, and, moreover, manifested itself in history from the negative side, has long been the name Bartholomew. The etymology of the name itself hints at something in this sense. Bartholomew, in Hebrew Bar-Tolmai, is usually translated as “son of boldness.” Of course, every name, like every ability, in itself, is a good and a gift of God, and therefore a guarantee of some spiritual success, and in this sense, Bartholomew points to a daring spiritual impulse. But that is the highest level of the name. And on the middle and lower plane, this name no longer means daring, but impudence, perhaps impudence, overturning any barriers. Therefore, on a lower level, the name Bartholomew is almost equivalent to a lawless person, an impudent person, etc. It can be said that the gift of this name is too high and difficult for the average person, and when Bartholomew cannot raise his boldness to the heights of the Apostle Bartholomew or St. Sergius, he does not remain an ordinary mortal, but directs his energies in the exact opposite direction. Then it is not just malice, but insidious malice, betrayal, intrigue, carried out not in the name of something positive, like honor, wealth, etc., but an essentially evil action, evil for the sake of evil, or tinsel good in the name of true evil. Worthy of attention: Pushkin, exceptionally perceptive to the significance of sound and sensitive to its subtlest shades, probably as a result of precisely this gift of his, named the characters in his works very soulfully, and his names are never arbitrary. Thus, the darkest of these persons, a spiritual provocateur, seducer and corrupter, as insinuating and sweetly insidious as he is low and arrogant, in short - the devil himself, pretending to be a man, bears the name of none other than, namely, Bartholomew. The obvious symbolism of the entire work (I mean “The Secluded House on Vasilyevsky”) 363, perhaps even excessive for Pushkin’s balanced taste, which is why the work was preserved in the form of “The House in Kolomna” - this symbolism encourages us to especially reckon with the significance of his names and, mainly, with the name of the main character, the spring that moves the whole intrigue. I repeat, this intriguer, this traitor, this destroyer, this black villain, too definitely black for Pushkin’s perfect Hellenic clarity, is called by him Bartholomew. One cannot help but be suggestive of the fact that the event, both consciously and unconsciously saturated with signs, also turned out to be timed to coincide with the name in question: I mean St. Bartholomew’s Night. One can assess the struggle of French Catholicism against the Huguenots in different ways. But whatever the historical meaning of this struggle, this event was undoubtedly clearly guided by the consciousness that the goal justified all means. The leading role here - a politician from politicians - Cardinal Mazarin and Queen Catherine, from the Medici family, which stood out for its cunning and shamelessness in means even in those times of general cunning and shamelessness, painted this night with such a densely black color of betrayal and treachery, which, it seems, cannot be found in the annals of history. The point is not in the shedding of the blood of the French nobility, not in the beating of two thousand, and then in the provinces of another three thousand nobles, and the robbery of others: you never know in the history of massacres. No, the peculiarity of this event was action from around the corner, a treacherous violation of oaths, moreover, not improvised, but carefully thought out and systematically organized. Consequently, there was a betrayal not only of the Huguenots, but also of their own shrines, their own royal and noble words and sacred promises. And this interweaving of everything opposite to the chivalrous and religious virtues of the medieval consciousness was, after careful weighing and long, according to the instructions of some researchers - seven years, gatherings, dedicated to the memory of St. Bartholomew. There is no doubt this was not done without intentionality. But what is especially remarkable is the fact that this treacherous massacre went down in history not with the name “massacre of the Huguenots,” or “French betrayal,” or, finally, simply “the event of August 24, 1572, or the final victory over French Protestantism,” but as “Bartholomew’s Night.” What other events are named in history by the names of the saints on whose memorial days they occurred? And, in particular, the events are dark? But, if there are any, they are very few. Meanwhile, in this case, historical consciousness expressively emphasizes some kind of Bartholomew’s character of the event itself and the non-accidental chronological coincidence with this name, although, of course, it does not impute betrayal to the holy Apostle. One feels that in the title “Bartholomew’s Night” the treacherous beating is compared not with the memory of the apostle, but with the name “Bartholomew”. And here is a parallel from the history of the recent past: “On November 14 (1914), the Russian detachment withstood a fierce battle on the historical field near the monastery of St. Bartholomew (in Turkish Armenia), where in 1896 800 Armenians were treacherously massacred, moving from Van to Persia with a pass from the Turkish government.” And “May 18, 1915: the famous historical monastery of St. Bartholomew was destroyed by the Turks and Kurds. Destroying the monastery, the Turks diligently broke and destroyed ancient inscriptions on stones and walls” 364. Here, first of all, the last message draws attention: as you know, the Turks always treat Christian churches with either reverence or superstitious fear and rarely touch them, even if they beat the entire population. Therefore, one cannot see something ordinary and, in a certain sense, natural, when they destroyed a revered ancient monastery. But near this same monastery, nineteen years ago, they treacherously and aimlessly violated a solemn agreement concluded completely voluntarily - they viciously betrayed. And then, a year before the destruction of the historical monument, there was a sudden attack on Russian troops. A significant topographical coincidence. It is marked even more expressively by the name of Bartholomew. In the Orthodox Church, the memory of the Apostle Bartholomew is celebrated on August 25; and no special signs are associated with this name and day in the folk month. In the West, the memory of the Apostle, both among Catholics and Protestants, is dedicated to August 24 and is marked by numerous calendar signs. The meaning of various sayings, Polish, German, French, etc., is that this day is recognized as a turning point for autumn and an indicator of the weather for the whole autumn; It marks the beginning of winter sowing, the opening of hunting, the height of harvesting, the removal of fruits, the appearance of winter frosts and, in general, the turn from summer to autumn. Here comes the cold season, the first harbingers of winter - frost, morning performances, ice in the rivers; by this time all the birds are preparing to fly away; Thunderstorms, which cause harm after St. Bartholomew's Day, also stop. The Germans associate this day with a change in the way of life of the peasants - the end of midday meals, afternoon naps and the abandonment of light summer clothes; According to their observation, from this time the milk yield of cows decreases. Thus, even in warm countries, autumn is increasingly coming into its own, summer is coming to an end - you can feel the approach of winter. It should be noted that Western signs on the memory of saints belong to the Julian calendar and developed before the Gregorian reform. So, with the memory of Bartholomew, there is a breakdown of cosmic life, hibernation and, according to universal human views, the death of nature: the name of Bartholomew is somehow connected with the idea of ​​​​death spilled in the world. And, on the other hand, the French have long had payment deadlines dedicated to this day: “St. Barthélemy – paue qui doit” 365, according to an old saying; in other words, these terms of monetary settlements signify some kind of completion of the social annual circle. In all areas, ends meet and the past is being eliminated. Is it not this commemoration of the day that has repeatedly led in history to an attempt to reckon with the past and destroy the intricate historical relations of peoples, parties, creeds, and, perhaps, the most ancient of disputes, God and the devil, namely, in memory of the Apostle Bartholomew? The names are historically and biographically significant. There is something that eludes rationalistic analysis. The closest daylight glance does not dispel the name. And, meanwhile, no matter what experiences, obviously real, this view manages to dissolve and, having killed their own form, lead to insignificance. Turning to the structure and internal forces of our own personality, we are easily convinced that it should not and cannot be otherwise: if we know what is real in ourselves, then this is our own name. After all, it is around it that our inner life solidifies, it is the solid point of our fluidity, in it our Self finds an objective foundation and unchanging content. Without a name, it is the instantaneous center of existing states, the instantaneous axis of rotation of all life at a given moment. If you like, about such a nameless I you can repeat everything that phenomenalistic psychology and extreme transcendentalism said about the I. Such an “I” is pure subjectivity, a subject that has not revealed or expressed itself at all, and therefore is in no way correlated with reality and, therefore, completely devoid of objectivity and embodiment. The first and, therefore, the most essential self-manifestation of the Self is the name. In the name and name, the I first places itself objectively before itself, and, consequently, with this subtlest flesh it becomes accessible to others. Before the name, a person is not yet a person, neither for himself nor for others, is not a subject of personal relationships, therefore, is not a member of society, but only the possibility of a person, a promise of such, an embryo. And what would society grasp at him if he had no name? How would it mark the bearer of certain rights and obligations - religious, moral, legal, etc. relationships, etc., if the subject remained hidden in itself and did not relate either to itself or to society, as some kind of unity? “This estate belongs to... um... um... him.” - Who should he? After all, everyone in his unmanifestation is he, and only he, a pronoun, i.e. instead of a name, but not the name itself. «Я должен тебе». This formula means absolutely nothing, for both “I” and “you” are only names, empty places of names that have to receive content through names, either explicit or implied. But certainly through names, without names meaning anything, and therefore nothing definite. One characteristic, but not subject to doubt, case from the time of the Great Revolution very clearly explains how alive in humanity is the consciousness that those who do not have a name do not exist socially. A certain de Saint-Cyr was brought to trial at the revolutionary tribunal. The chairman asks him the usual question about his first and last name. The following conversation takes place between them: “My last name is de Saint-Cyr,” the defendant answers. “There is no more nobility,” the chairman objects. - “In that case, that means I am Saint-Cyr.” - “The time of superstition and sacrilege has passed; there are no more saints.” “The kingdom with all its titles has fallen forever,” comes the answer again. Then a brilliant thought comes to the defendant’s head: “In that case,” he exclaims: “I have no surname at all and I am not subject to the law. – I am nothing more than an abstraction – an abstraction; you will not find a law punishing an abstract idea. You must justify me." The tribunal, puzzled by such argumentation, actually found the defendant innocent and passed the following sentence: “The citizen of Abstraction is invited to choose a republican name for himself in the future, if he does not wish to incur further suspicion.” The Tribunal was right in not condemning the one who was made in relation to society by an abstract Self; but he was wrong in passing the sentence, because the law has no eyes to see and discuss abstractions. After it was discovered that the defendant had no name, he became invisible to the tribunal as a legal entity, and the most correct thing on the part of the judges would be to make a gesture of surprise as to where the defendant is and why they are sitting. The tribunal was able not to do so because and only because it immediately gave the defendant the personal name Abstraction, with which the court ruling was correlated. If this name had not been there, then, clearly, the verdict would have been only a general maxim, not directed at any person. So, without a name, the social order has no means of including and relating its members to itself. Yes, not only society, I myself cannot grasp myself, as long as the formless potency of the I is not predicated by a name. And when in a conversation we say I, you, he, etc., this is done either because the onomatological predication has already been done and is implicitly contained in these pronouns - instead of pronouns, or in the sense of a reverse departure from objectivity into intimate subjectivity, and then it becomes psychologism, which at first no one cares about, and then there is no opportunity to deal with. This is an image of formless chaotic states, the limit of which is the final ineffability and even unconsciousness. Ascetic practice and spiritual culture, moreover, of very different religions, as is known, prohibits uttering the word “I”. Distinctness and uncloudedness of spiritual life requires increased self-objectification and forcing oneself to exit subjectivity. On the contrary, it is well known that this part of speech is abused when one indulges in daydreaming, spiritual formlessness, when one cannot or does not want to maintain control over oneself. The final loss of a name socially has always meant civil and historical death, final disappearance from the horizon of history; on the contrary, entering history, consolidating one’s place, one’s reality in it, has always been designated as “creating a name for oneself,” the highest degree of which is the eternal memory of the name by the conciliar consciousness of the Church and, finally, by God. God's remembrance of names means the eternal existence of these selves, and the final break with existence is tantamount to God forgetting the name or destroying it in the Book of Life. But, leaving now the question of the final approval or final destruction of human reality, we will talk about the relative - what is happening before our eyes. The purest, the closest to heavenly, the most distant of the natural states of consciousness is the child’s, the first cycle, up to three and a half years. Observers of children's life have long noted that at this time in their life the child does not yet use the word I, but speaks of himself in the third person and calls himself by name. Near the end of this period, the pronoun I appears in children's speech - the first breakthrough of original sin. On the contrary, at the heights of spiritual achievement a person again becomes “like a child”; and, entering the Kingdom of Heaven, he again loses the first person pronoun and speaks of himself in the third, either calling him by name, as, for example, the Monk Seraphim always reported about himself: “poor Seraphim,” or generally leaving it unclear who exactly he was talking about: “someone saw,” “some man heard.” So does the Apostle: “I know a man who...” Just as much as the non-spiritual is interested not in what was or is, but in the attitude of the past to him, the I, just as much for the spiritual the emphasis of interest falls on the essence of the matter, on the content of the truth being proclaimed. The I here is not only of secondary importance, but also, being emphasized, can disturb this content with accidents that cloud the clear appearance of the truth. In the realm of the spiritual Self there is a sign of prelest, but the name is critical purity. Personality disorder is often accompanied by the loss of a name’s central place. Elements of personal life weaken their connections with the name, each striving for independence. The personality disintegrates and decomposes, and the name ceases to be a clearly recognized root predicate I, ceases to be the ideal form of the entire content of personal life. The self begins to be predicated on random individual states, competing with each other and struggling to assign themselves the basic function of a name. Now the name no longer fully covers its subject - I, but this latter is predicated by one, and the other, and the third, but by nothing definite and stable. The self torn between them tries to call itself with many false names, and the real name becomes one among many, a random and external appendage. The real name is recognized as something external to the individual, introduced into her life from the outside, which can, as the individual begins to think, be arbitrarily replaced and even removed altogether. Finally, with further personality disorder, it is completely lost, but, along with it, the continuity of self-awareness is also lost. If the I is predicated, obviously from some new angle or from some particular side, by a new name, then in connection with it a new strip of self-consciousness is formed, flowing independently from the past; but this is another personality, perhaps some amazing mental complex that has taken possession of a given organism and proclaimed itself a personality, perhaps an alien being possessing a given organism, but, in any case, this is not that forgotten self-consciousness. It came with the name. Finally, we imagine an even deeper disintegration: when any stable name is lost at all, and the I manifests itself as constantly changing and extremely unstable surrogates for names. This is a fading self-awareness, at certain moments phosphorescent with bursts of personality, fragmented and chaotic. And then the complete darkness of self-forgetfulness and self-loss will follow, when there are no instant verbal clots that fill the name. The identity with the name is restored. The first glimmer of self-awareness shines in the darkness, as an answer to a suddenly emerging question about oneself: “Who am I?” To put it, you must already know, at least vaguely, the answer to it: “I am so-and-so.” When this was said, self-awareness began to heal and the personality came to life, at least not completely integral. While the I was self-sufficient, the I, not seeking a predicate for itself, and the personality did not appear to itself objectively. When the predication of the I was required, and the predicate gave not this or that particular state or a particular attribute, but a single, self-identical, stable form of personality, a name, then the personality, affirming the I as some certainty, itself established itself objectively. Everyday understanding constantly uses the name as the first and most profound and holistic phenomenon of personality in the objective world: in the name, and not in anything else, seeing, usually, a way to penetrate into the inner world of a person and restore interrupted communication with him. When a speaker or preacher wants to draw the listener's special attention to one or another of his words, he calls him by name. When love and tenderness, and perhaps indignation and anger, seek particularly close penetration to a loved one or to someone who has caused the opposite feeling, the name is repeated again. It seems all the more necessary to resort to naming a name, sometimes multiple and persistent, when we see that a person is leaving us, leaving the objective world, or from that part of it where we are, curling up into himself: absent-mindedness, drowsiness, intoxication, lightheadedness, sleep, fainting, loss of consciousness - more persistent, lethargy, finally, death - all this prompts those around us to call out in such cases to the departing person by name. They are convinced that the name, only the name, is the thread with which one can hold on to someone who is leaving the objective for the subjective, if only one can hold on to him at all. In some cases, unconsciousness, sometimes even outright insanity, is suddenly resolved by a persistent reminder of the name or a demand to remember it. Self-consciousness, drowning in chaos, then clings to the name, drawn from the outside, and overcomes the darkness that has washed over it. Such cases are known to everyone; but, to make our thoughts clearer, here is a newspaper report: “Wonderful case. The chief commissioner of the northern region, A.D. Zinoviev, reported to the main administration that recently in the infirmary, set up in the building of the College of the Imperial Petrograd University and bearing the name of Count L.N. Tolstoy, the following incident occurred: the lower rank Pavel Kosmakov, who had lost the gift of speech, suddenly acquired it again, proceeding to Holy Communion and being asked by the priest for the third time about his name.”366 . It is not without reason, therefore, that any communion with the Sacrament, whatever this sacrament may be, as requiring the greatest self-collection of the spirit and internal integrity, is accompanied by the naming of the recipient of the sacrament - by name: this naming evokes in the individual the greatest clarity of spiritual self-determination now available to him and, therefore, is given to show the greatest degree of freedom available to him. In short, for the sake of the most perfect assimilation of the sacrament, the personality rises, as far as possible for it, above Chaos. Our knowledge, along with the abstractly general side, necessarily has another side, a concrete typological one. In the nomological sciences, the first one occupies a predominant place; in ideological sciences – the second. But in both cases, both sides are certainly present, and an abstract law, without some concrete point of application, would be empty and unnecessary, having no place in the world, just as pure concreteness, in turn, would be inexpressible in a judgment without a general one. But, necessarily connected with each other, both sides of knowledge are opposite to each other, and therefore are not reducible to each other. Consequently, speech, as a judgment of truth, must represent not only the general, but also the specific: along with general concepts, in order to be realized, it must also have something concrete. However, speech cannot haphazardly exhaust everything that is general and limitless; As a consequence of the system, categories are developed in general concepts - logical, ontological - from numerous individual disciplines. In the same way, everything concrete and also infinite cannot be exhausted haphazardly. There is a certain principle in the construction of verbal symbols, a special case of which and an explanatory example can be the “principle of arbitrary choice” of set theory. If speech achieves its goal, it is not otherwise than due to a certain organization - also its specific aspect. This latter, in order to be assimilated and applicable, must develop from itself organs analogous to the categories and universals of its generalizing side. These organs are such that, while embracing the completeness of certain specificities, they do not decompose what is covered into individual signs of state, action and properties, do not isolate them from the concrete, but take it entirely, with all their completeness; but at the same time, these organs of speech capture the concrete not individually, in its sensory opposition to all being, but collectively, as a representative of other beings, ontologically connected with it. Thus, this side of speech has as its subject certain totalities, that is, forms. The visually represented form is Goethe's first appearance, Urphaenomenon 367, Plato's idea, appearance and countenance. It is the type of all ectypes of the same ontological cluster, although it is seen in a specific ectype. But the essence of the matter is that for correct generalization and confident analysis we need to have many, or rather, all representatives of the same genus; and the type is seen in one specific image, while others do not add anything to the understanding of it. This moment of typical discretion is undoubtedly present even in physics; All systematics, in particular, of the biological sciences, are built on it theoretically and epistemically; it is the main resource of the historical sciences, no matter whether we are talking about the history of a people, landscape, clan, individual, etc.; he is the soul of art. The type considered is fixed in speech through the name. In this case, we will not discuss names and their cognitive function - in general, but we will narrow our attention to personal human names, leaving aside even generic names - surnames. So, the name expresses the type of personality, its ontological form, which further determines its spiritual and mental structure. Names express types of personal existence. This is the last of what can still be expressed in words, the deepest of words, since it deals with concrete beings. The name is the last expressibility in the word of the beginning of the personal (like a number - the impersonal), the most tender, and therefore the most adequate flesh of the personality. The spiritual being of the individual is inexpressible of itself. It assimilates the material presented to it from the environment in which it lives - mystical, occult, social, mental, physical - and, taking it, transforms it into its body, shines through it, radiates through it, shapes it. But we can express not her, but what she has shaped. The name is the closest approach to herself, the last layer of the body that envelops her. This layer, this nominal body, more perfectly than all other layers, outlines the formative principle. Mentally removing the successive layers of the body - civil and property status, social relations, acquaintances, relatives, friends, family, home, creativity in different branches of culture, a number of clothes, established habits, etc., etc. etc., we expose the personality from the luxury of its manifestations and gradually approach its self-evidence, less rich, but more drawn and monumental. The limit of all revelations will be that very inner layer of the body, without which the personality is no longer conceivable, for it actually cannot be thought, and like a ghost it escapes from the embrace of thought. The name is this limit. It shows us personality in the most general way, retaining its individual type, without which it would not be itself. The name most clearly recognizes the spiritual structure of the personality, not clouded by secondary manifestations and free from the slags of biographies and the dust of history. Not reaching it means getting stuck in a rushing area of ​​sensory impressions that are not united together; to go beyond it would mean losing the fulcrum of thought and demanding from thought what is inaccessible to it. Thus, not reaching the focus of the optical lens, we have a blurry spot, and beyond it - an imaginary, and only at the focus is true knowledge possible. The name is the focus of our thought. To remove the name means to move on to an experience that, although we perceive, we no longer name - we cannot say it in human words, it is inexpressible - in other words, to a purely mystical experience, and it cannot be contained in a predicable experience. As some ideal concreteness, a name cannot be defined, described or told by listing individual characteristics, individual traits. Taken separately, such signs-traits, no matter how they are accumulated, are not capable of conveying the main thing in a name - its structure, its structure as a whole, its form, in short, itself. The name is comprehended only through itself, per se intelligitur. When analyzed analytically, it loses its very essence and ultimately remains a heap of psychological and other traits that are more or less characteristic of every personality and, at the same time, more or less random in the composition of each name. Separately, each of these traits can be found in a representative of any name, and each one can be absent in such a person. It is not individual traits that are characteristic in themselves, but certain complex relationships between them. In this sense, names can be partly compared with hereditary generic types in genetics, with the constitutions of psychopathologists, with complex radicals in chemistry. It is no longer possible to decompose them into separate characteristics, and an attempt to describe them would inevitably run into the constant need for reservations and exceptions. But this does not mean that such concrete universals do not constitute internally defined functions of thought, and their such nature is evidenced by the fact of their fruitfulness in the life of science. They cannot be precisely defined, but once acquired by thinking, they become irreplaceable; Perhaps we resisted assimilating them, but having assimilated them, we are easily convinced that it is with their help that we can understand those aspects of a phenomenon that constitute the main thing in it, and, meanwhile, cannot be captured and fixed in thinking by any list of signs. In essence, science is permeated by these concrete universals; without them, even the most abstract disciplines cannot take a step, and if we do not think about our lack of precise definitions of such universals, then this is only a consequence of our habit of them. In fact, if we discard the specific idea of type, then can it really be considered given by definition elements in chemistry, species in biology, landscapes in geography, races in anthropology, cultures in history, social structures in sociology, temperaments, characters, etc. in psychology, etc., etc. An expert in any discipline differs from someone who is superficially familiar not at all with the amount of information conveyed analytically, but with deep familiarity with the specific forms of a given scientific areas, due to which he perceives them without making attempts to analytically isolate individual features. The more obvious this beginning of form is in a given area, the less possible are attempts to present the matter as if the basic universals are established by definitions, and the more empty and unnecessary school attempts of this kind sound here. The definiteness of universals is given in thinking by direct intuition; art, a figurative representation of the intended type, serves to consolidate this. All arts can and should take part here, and to a large extent they do. But what is most necessary in such cases is the participation of art, which is most closely associated with thinking - verbal art. The artistic depiction of types in words is a verbal clot of intuition. The more obvious the integrity of the objects of a certain field, the more prominent the artistic element is in the corresponding discipline. Biology, geography, sociology, psychology, history are permeated with it. In those areas where form is almost everything, analyticity recedes completely: characterology, astrology, art theory, and this serves as an obstacle for people of poor and elementary thought, who are little able to grasp relationships that are far from direct analysis, from approaching these areas. These relationships can be compared to invariants in the symbolic theory of forms: highly definite and individually outlined, invariants and other invariant formations do not correspond to anything separately distinguished in sensory experience and therefore, at first, may seem devoid of perceptible content. And, meanwhile, the individual type of known forms is established by this invariant to consciousness, while without an invariant we are not only unable to think about these forms collectively, but in each of them separately we do not see its deepest characteristic - its own form, and therefore it seems indifferent to us whether it is that form or another. Under the guise of “logical” thinking, we are inclined, hastily generalizing objects according to a feature that perhaps does not characterize them at all, and then indulge in the chaos of undifferentiated sensuality, while genuine logical consciousness reveals in this chaos some archetypes, and then a deep abyss can unfold between individual objects. Logical thinking leads not only to a generalizing merger, but also to a typifying separation; What is sensually distant can become close, and what is close can become distant. Names should be considered as such invariants of personality. Extremely far from any direct connection with externally taken into account signs, even with groups of such signs, inexpressible words, they, however, most definitely capture the most important lines of the personal structure in their individual integrity. A name is determined only through itself, and only an artistic image can lead consciousness to it, if there is no direct intuition. Направив внимание в определенную сторону, можно облегчить ему эту интуицию. But, however, no index finger will make you see if someone does not know how or does not want to look. These or other measures are favorable if it is necessary to prepare the ground for aesthetic perception; but by no means is it forced to produce that synthesis by which the form of a given work is recognized. Names are such creations from works of culture. The highest integrity and therefore the highest value obtained by humanity. One can, of course, present an objection here, according to which the possibility and necessity of such archetypes of the spirit is fundamentally recognized, but the power to express these archetypes is denied behind the given, historical and cultural data and names. In other words, personality archetypes exist on their own, and names also exist on their own. And, therefore, archetypes must be recognized as ineffable, and names - only meaningless and random. At first glance, such an objection may seem not only convincing (since it is devoid of positive argumentation), but in fact, weakening the internal conviction of the opposite. But, remaining so general and far from considering the issue on the merits, it would, if you like, sound too strong, because with just the same right it can apply to any word in general - to concepts, to categories, etc., and, therefore, would mean nothing more and no less than the general skeptical position of the objector - in relation to absolutely all knowledge. In such a general form, it should not be discussed here, but in the theory of knowledge, and if we consider epistemological skepticism generally irrefutable, then there is no need to cry about the fall along with all the knowledge of names. I repeat, in the above objection there is nothing directed against names as such. But, if you do not indulge in complete pessimism regarding knowledge and do not dispute the possibility of knowledge at all, then a number of counter-questions arise. In fact, if there are these types of personal organization, then how and where do we recognize them and learn about their existence if they do not have a verbal expression and are not fixed in thought in words? And, if they are fixed, then where exactly are their verbal symbols? And why should some unknown word expressions be supported by the cognitive significance that is denied to names developed and verified over thousands of years by humanity? If there were no names, they would have to be invented; so why aren't they what we have at hand? Humanity believes them, and believes not only consciously, but has also proven its faith by the very preservation of names. Is it possible, meanwhile, to admit that an institution so universal and so stable as names could be inconsistent with its purpose - and the purpose of names is to express and verbally consolidate types of spiritual organization? If we doubt the cognitive value of these verbal symbols, the most ancient and most widespread, then doesn’t doubt arise with much greater grounds about the value of other verbal formations and, therefore, isn’t all knowledge, not only existing, but also contained at its very root, destroyed along with language as an instrument of thought? The seemingly too easy victory over names actually does not achieve its goal at all. In any case, this issue should be discussed in more specific ways, in relation to onomatological experience and a more penetrating attitude towards names as such. And then we will have to overcome the experience and conviction of humanity in order... again to put ourselves face to face with the general problem of skepticism. So, concrete spiritual forms are what the cultural sciences understand. To cognize means to verbally express. No construction from abstract categories and concepts can express this knowledge of forms. Consequently, the language must necessarily have a special category of words serving this side of cognition - specific categories and specific concepts. The self-consciousness of humanity recognized and recognizes names as such. It is extremely incredible that language, the most purposeful of all the activities of culture, which itself is completely purposeful, in this particular case, failed and missed the mark. But such a cultural blunder had to be recognized as even more incredible, given its historical and prehistoric longevity and its universality: if anywhere, then here, of course, “quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus” 368. It is absolutely incredible that a systematic error and complete failure could pass the conciliar examination of pan-historical and pan-human consciousness. And, finally, if the types of spiritual structure are not expressed by names, and names are conventional and arbitrary, then where are the cognitive tools of these personal forms? After all, language is not an Antarctic continent that needs to be reached in order to discover it, but an instrument of our own knowledge, and if we know the personal form, then the expression of this knowledge is known to us. So where is it? One cannot refer to unknown future discoveries, because throughout history man has considered himself to be a knower of personality types. When people object to the cognitive value of names, devaluing them to something random, then the basis of such objections is a methodological error - failure to take into account the unique place that names have in culture. The names here are taken externally, as “something that claims to have cognitive power,” and about such “something,” not without formal right, but, however, not at all with truth, the rhetorical question is asked: “Can’t it turn out to not meet its claims?” - Of course it can. But, posed this way, this is a question too general - a question, in general, about the possibility of errors and misconceptions to be valid against names in particular. It’s the same as if someone were talking about the beauty of Greek tragedies, and someone answered: “But aren’t there bad works?” - Of course, yes, there are. However, in this case, we are not talking about works in general, but about those that have lived for two and a half thousand years, aroused constant admiration, were translated many times, entailed a whole avalanche of imitations, etc., etc. etc., finally, they were simply preserved, and preserved as highly valued, as an object of tireless concern for oneself, is by no means accidental. Isn’t the totality of these facts about the place of Greek tragedies in culture in themselves, even without an aesthetic analysis of each of them separately, an obstacle to their condemnation as “works in general” and does not cry out against their inclusion in the circle of these latter? When we started talking about the Greek tragedies that have come down to us, we thereby stopped the possibility of judging them as “works in general”: they were not composed by just anyone and at any time. To a much greater extent, the same must be said about the incomparably more universal works of the spirit - about names. Few people think about how, in a general calculation, the totality of names that turned out to be historically viable and withstood the test of thousands of years is numerically insignificant. Little thought is given to the mutual borrowing of names by peoples; comparatively, very few names pass from hand to hand. Indeed, even in those cases when a people apparently has a name that is alien to another people, it usually takes from someone else’s name one of the morphological aspects of the name, for example, Matthoya, Matthew, Theodore, Theodor, Deodat, Bogdan, etc. - a bunch of names that have a common etymon “gift of God” and, to a large extent, a common sememe, although the phoneme of these names is different. Names are simply borrowed by peoples, translated, subjected to arradication, subjected to morphological processing - and, of course, in all these cases of replanting them on new soil and grafting, they acclimatize and acquire a new Habitus, sometimes, perhaps, very far from the previous one. But this does not interfere with the stability in them of the basic type of their structure, not the sensory, but the intelligent invariant of their formative personal principle. Their enzymatic power, which in its own way directs the spiritual processes of the individual, remains equal to itself. This is a certain invariant of personality. And in the end, humanity turns out to not have many such invariant names, stable and clear types of personal life, hardly a few hundred, even if we include subtypes here. As the most precious creation of culture, humanity cherishes these archetypes of spiritual structure that have been found - all in all. Aren't there other similar ones? Maybe, even likely. But they must be discovered, and this discovery is given, and then extremely rarely, only to the highest spiritual creativity, aimed at the art of the arts - at the elaboration of one’s own personality and its elevation, from raw naturalistic unity, into the pearl of creation, where everything is formed and manifested. When they try to belittle the value of names, they completely forget that you can’t make up names and that existing names are some of the most stable facts of culture and the most important of its foundations. Imagining the abstract possibility of inventing names is the same daring idea as deducing from the existence of five or six world religions the possibility of inventing as many more as you like: the Book of the Dead, the Vedas, the Zend-Avesta, the Bible, the Gospel and the Koran - this is approximately the entire world fund of written primary sources of religion, and this fund stands before each of us as something, at least practically, not expandable; <...> if anyone flatters himself with the hope of adding a few more numbers to the above list. Each such number is a shock to the world’s foundations; and each newly revealed name overturns the depths of culture and begins some new line of historical typology. This means: either there is no culture at all, there is no knowledge at all, we do not know the types of spiritual structure at all, or all this exists, and then names are what humanity has always considered them to be. If this is not so, then the claims to hope for culture, and with it names, in the future are meaningless, since throughout history the human race has achieved nothing. But we, without self-destruction, cannot deny the reality of culture that connects the human race, and therefore, with all our internal energy, we affirm the cognitive significance of names. Names, like other knowledge, are always recognized as thought, far from reflection, until confusing questions and presented difficulties lead it away from naive but deep intuition onto the path of conscious but superficial analysis. Like any very integral, but sensually elusive, intelligent form, the name is given either by the ingenuous intuition of a simple heart, or by the conscious knowledge of great experience in handling an elusive list of individual signs - formations: who is not accustomed to dealing with the most insensible essences of mathematical analysis, arrhythmology, modern geometry, with complex musical and literary forms, partly with biological forms, etc., etc., in general, whoever, having destroyed the intuitive sensitivity of analysis in himself, has not strengthened the ability of intellectual synthesis and, therefore, is stuck on the initial separation of all integrity, will, of course, not be able to wield the most integral of the categories of integrity - names. But his inability does not testify against names as categories, but only about his own inexperience; but names in this case share the fate of various other, far from analytical descriptions based on individual characteristics, tools of the cognitive mind. Names are not reduced to individual characteristics. But the difficulty of comprehending a name is also multiplied by the interaction in each individual person of its name with a number of other, albeit lower hierarchical, formative principles: a name is never given in its pure form. Race, nationality, family heredity, upbringing, social status, nature of occupation, influence of others, geographical conditions, state of health, lifestyle, etc., etc. - all this is involved in the formation of the individual. Each of the listed sides is itself a formative principle, inexpressible in its integrity through the calculation of individual characteristics and cognizable as a specific unity, as a certain type of structure in the corresponding area. So, for example, a national and, especially, a racial type, which is completely defined in itself, as is known, cannot be simply described by analytically recalculated characteristics; and when trying to still give such a description, the usual difficulty with folk psychology is revealed, that each of the signs may not be obligatory in itself, so that a list of them does not seem reliable in any of its statements. Mental constitution, family type, psychology of a given social position, etc., etc. find themselves face to face with the same impossibility of being analytically characterized, despite their clear definiteness, comprehended intuitively. Many of the figures who shape it converge in personality. But, being forms in relation to factors of a lower order, they themselves become the material of the formative activity of the name. By uniting them into an integral personality, the name is embodied in them and through them is made concretely perceived in life experience. It is perceived in sensory experience, although not by sensory experience. Without a name there is no integrity of personality; but in experience we never encounter a pure name, without the material in which it is embodied and with which, therefore, it is colored. Like complex radicals in chemistry, names serve as the core of personality and its very essence; but, like these radicals, they cannot be extracted from the complex composition of the personality and shown in themselves. However, not only names turn out to be only visible in a complex composition, without being able to sensually appear isolated: all the above-mentioned principles of personality are the same. Moreover, such are the elements in chemistry, and the species in taxonomy, and numerous symbolic formations in mathematics, and numerous instruments of knowledge, which can serve their purpose because and only because they are symbols in the spirit, and not a sensory reality. Names are the same, but, as tools of a higher order, they require greater spiritual concentration and corresponding skill to handle themselves. In all areas of knowledge, universals and, in particular, categories, both generality and integrity, require getting used to; only with active attention and proper exercise can they be mastered to such an extent that they turn from a mental burden that burdens us, at best crutches, into truly useful tools of knowledge. Every tool must first be mastered so that it, having become a continuation of our organism and a new organ, expands the area of ​​our influence on reality. Until this mastery of the tool occurs, it helps little in life, perhaps even interferes with freedom of movement, and often this tool is used as a thing among other things, moreover, not adapted to the method of using it. Don’t they often use universals in the same way as savages use a gun hand-to-hand, or as the little prince cracked nuts with the state seal? But when ease of use of this tool is achieved, what was previously inaccessible becomes accessible, and the area of ​​influence on life increases many times over. As a cognitive tool of the highest order, names, if we are not talking about the ability to own them directly growing in an unsophisticated environment, but about conscious use, names are relatively difficult to master, and a person of reflective habits needs to mentally re-educate himself in order to develop the habit of thinking with names. At first, the unaccustomed intellect will still try to explain these personal categories to itself with the help of one or another analytically enumerated characteristics - character traits, moral inclinations, etc. - or it will helplessly substitute instead of a smart form - a name - the sensory clarity of one or another example, the image of one of its acquaintances. However, I repeat, the situation is no different with all categorical tools of knowledge, although mastering these tools is easier there. It goes without saying that a conceivable name is dragged along by the activity of thinking and, in any case, does not inspire it. But, after a certain difficulty in the first steps of assimilation, the name is separated from sensory examples and no longer evokes in the mind a restless need to be composed of individual signs, but, on the contrary, itself posits a series of possible and probable signs. Then it begins to be recognized as a powerful tool, allowing us to see them, to consolidate closely united, personal forms in knowledge, and we learn to discern this unifying principle where until then there was only diversity, fusion and confusion inaccessible to reason and words. Knowledge has grown wings. Raised onto them, it now sees the structure of vast spaces, which it previously not only did not embrace in a single contemplation, but simply did not suspect. A new world has opened up to knowledge. Here, in fact, is not the place to discuss the relationship between these nominal categories and the relationship to categories of other kinds, since our considerations have a much more specific task. But in order to give the thought some runway and not to silently interrupt its flow, here is some hint of a more general construction. The system of concrete cognitive principles is an organism of forms. The name, as explained, is a form of internal organization. It corresponds to a number, as a form of external organization. In other words, the invariant of subjectivity is opposed by the invariant of objectivity (we will not confuse these terms with subjectivity and objectivity as approaches, for, just as a subject can be cognized both objectively and subjectively, so an object is characterized by both methods of cognitive relationship). And one more thing: a name is a personal invariant, and a number is a material one. Both invariants are rooted in form, which is, at the same time, both a thing and a person, or, more precisely, the beginning of both a thing and a person; I mean the idea, “the source of both being and knowledge,” according to Plato. It contains the key to understanding why knowledge and being do not diverge from each other, as long as each of them remains true to itself: it is the idea, numerically identical in both of them, that keeps them aligned with each other. Each of the cognitive principles, in turn, gives rise to pairs, the members of which relate to each other in pairs in the same way as the principles themselves relate to each other. A number is cosmologically the same as an idea ontologically, and a name reflects an idea pneumatologically. The material side of a number, quantity, is in relation to its formal side, quality, the same as the material side of an idea, number, in relation to its formal side - name. The latter also develops the same duality: its material side is ousia, and its formal side is hypostasis. So, we have four principles, two in the external world and two in the internal: quantity and quality, ousia and hypostasis. They are headed in pairs by two more principles - the supreme principles of the corresponding worlds: these are number and name. And, finally, these latter are hierarchically subordinated to the supreme ontological principle - the idea. In total, there are seven principles of knowledge, and they are also the principles of being. But these are not abstract principles, becoming poorer in concreteness as they ascend hierarchically; on the contrary, they become more abstract through descending this ladder. If the deduction of these universals were continued further and further, then we would arrive at universals less and less specific and, at the same time, more and more particular: it is like a circulatory system of arteries, depleted of oxygen as it branches out. And then, it begins to converge again, forming ever thicker trunks, in order to gather into unity again. But this is already a venous system, abstract concepts, the area of ​​negative philosophy. But let's return to the seven basic principles. Each of them not only gives rise to others subordinate to it, but also directly participates in knowledge and being. Here it is especially important to note those spheres of phenomena where the four younger principles show themselves most expressively. The external world is a unification of space and time, and a thing is a place of special curvature of time - space. Space is determined primarily by quantity, and time by quality. In the inner world, a person is what corresponds to a thing in the outer world. The inner world is composed of spontaneity and norm, duty, and there is spontaneity-duty. According to a significant verbal parallel, spontaneity, as a space for self-manifestation, is etymologically the same as space, while duty, that is, being in the flow of events, etymologically means longitude or time. Consequently, both pairs of principles are fully consistent with each other. Personality is a place of special tension of spontaneity-duty. At the same time, spontaneity is determined primarily by ousia, and duty by hypostasis. Here we should only recall that the “predominant definition” should mean the relationship of a specific category to a specific phenomenon, why these connections cannot be thought of linearly, like simple dependencies. Rather, one should imagine these first manifestations of space, time, spontaneity and duty as shining through the most clearly corresponding categories of quantity, quality, ossia and hypostasis, but not showing them alone in themselves. The above scheme of categorical connections can be explained in a new plane, through the relationship of grammatical persons; but, of course, this interpretation can only be hinted at here, which must be developed elsewhere. I am transcendental, hidden not only from others, but also from myself in my own depths. It appears or reveals itself - as YOU and as HE. As YOU, it reveals itself as a person, and as HE, as a thing. Through its name, I reveals itself as YOU, and therefore recognizes itself: through the number, I becomes HE, and therefore evaluates itself. The spiritual structure is expressed about the subject I - by the name, and the reality of the I is expressed by its number. This explanation relates the above diagram to the previous one. Resistance to the recognition of names as substantial or essential forms of personality is often driven by either a conscious or semi-conscious intention to defend the freedom of the individual: the essentiality of names is thought to lead to determinism and fatalism. The intention is good, but inappropriate. The certainty of the internal rhythm that is affirmed behind each name is as much a denial of moral freedom as the entire physical and mental makeup imparted to the individual by the race and people to which he belongs. Undoubtedly, African blood accelerates mental reactions and increases the brightness of feelings, at least those characteristic of a given person; but how does the denial of moral freedom follow from this? Let's go further; hereditary alcoholism, like hereditary musicality, imparts certain predispositions and inclinations to the individual. However, the moral value of the individual is in no way predetermined by them; Yes, even the actions themselves are not predetermined, although it is known in advance that, whatever they turn out to be, with careful analysis of them it will be possible to discover in them the characteristic heredity of a given person. A criminal idiot and a blessed holy fool - these two poles of moral assessments, in the sense of heredity, are perhaps the fruits of the same family tree. Any factor that determines the structure of a personality, its inclinations, its capabilities, its internal tempo and rhythm, must encounter precisely the same difficulties as a name: for those who confuse freedom of spiritual self-determination with chaotic arbitrariness, any certainty of personal structure, no matter what its cause, is assessed as a damage to freedom and a source of fatalism. But it is not our business here to discuss the problem of freedom, and it is quite sufficient once it is shown that a name is an obstacle to freedom no more than any other personal form factor; We have enough proof that freedom does not fall from the name, if it falls at all from the definiteness of the personal structure. The name really directs the life of an individual along a certain channel and does not allow the flow of life processes to occur anywhere. But in this vein, the individual himself must determine his moral content. If a name is the rhythm of life, then does this rhythm, with all its definiteness, prevent this rhythm from being filled with various harmonies, to the point of opposites? The speed of mental reactions, which is inherent in the personality, in itself speaks just as little for or against the personality in the sense of moral assessment as slowness; ardent temperament, as well as cold. So is the name; not even “so,” but to a much greater extent, since the name, although incomparably more holistic than other factor-forms, is also farther from the visual content of personal life. The name is the hriya of the personal constitution. No matter how definite this or that chria may be in itself, however, according to its plan, a very different presentation is expressed - to the point of contradiction. So in a name, which always retains its invariance, as a certain form of personality, the aspirations of the will, the aspirations of the heart and the direction of the mind can be revealed to be very different, even contradictory to each other. The name predetermines the personality and outlines the ideal boundaries of her life. But this does not mean that, determined by a name, a person is not free in his name - within its limits. And, first of all: each given name is a whole spectrum of moral self-definitions and a bundle of different life paths. The upper pole of the name is a pure, individual ray of divine light, the prototype of perfection, flickering in the saint of the given name. The lower pole of the same name goes into Gehenna, as a complete perversion of the divine truth of this name, but even here remains invariant. The criminal and the hardened villain are heading towards this pole. Between the upper and lower poles there is a point of moral indifference, also, in its own way, a limit around which, without ever staying exactly on it, ordinary average people gather. Three limiting points and, according to them, three typical categories of bearers of this name. Three; and, moreover, with all the intermediate degrees of spiritual height. But this does not prevent them all from realizing, albeit in different ways, one invariant of the spirit, one spiritual type. With this name you can be a saint, you can be a philistine, or you can be a scoundrel, even a monster. But a person of a given name becomes a saint, a philistine, a scoundrel, and a monster, not as a representative of another name at approximately the same level of spirituality, not as one pleases, but in his own way, or more precisely, by his own name. The degrees of enlightenment available to him are varied; but they are all different enlightenments of the same organization, they ascend to the sky along the slopes of one peak, but this does not mean that in general there is only a single peak of ascent. This single peak is their single name. It is the common vertical of many ascents and descents; but the improvement and fall of others, bearing other names, is determined by other verticals. It is useful to compare examples of various spiritual manifestations of a given name - near both poles and at the point of indifference. Thus, the typical lines of a nominal organization, unified and equal to itself in all its manifestations, appear with particular clarity. Even a precisely defined name provides endless possibilities for moral manifestations; but the very channel of personal life - the name - cannot be considered as a solid mechanical connection, which certainly excludes some of their movements. If it is a connection, then it is flexible and pliable, amenable to various changes, although they are not able to destroy the basic character of the name. And, more precisely, the name should be associated with organic formations, as adaptable to external conditions as they are unchanged in their morphological type. So is the name - it is compliant, even precautionary, to the requirements of various factors of form; it finds in itself the energy of life and is processed adaptively to the conditions of the country, nationality, spirit of the time, heredity, and is even applied to the peculiar shades of personal relationships. After all, a name is a word, even a condensed word; and therefore, like any word, but to a greater extent, it is a tireless, playing energy of the spirit. A name contains not only its sememe, but also a morpheme, even a phoneme. Thus, a name passes to another nationality, sometimes unchanged in all the formal principles of its structure, sometimes changing one or two of them. This means that the people assimilate it in relation to some of their needs. But something of the name remains inviolable. When, around the first century before and after Christ, the names arose, Ariston instead of Tobi, Boethos instead of Ezra, Justus instead of Zadok, Philo instead of Jedidiah and Theodore instead of Nathanel, the etymological meaning of the Hebrew names was preserved, but not the sound of the name and, to a large extent, not its seme: the spiritual form of the name was reincarnated in a new body. This kind of translation of names is done naturally into different languages ​​- for example, when translating into Arabic. Eleazar turned into Mansur, Matsliav - into Maymun. In other cases, the sound equivalent was some derivative from its sememe, and not from the morpheme. Thus, in the blessings of Jacob, Judah is compared to a young lion, 369 and, therefore, lionism is present in the seed of this name, although it has nothing to do with the root meaning; the name Judah turns into Leo, Leve and Leb, Leiba - in a different pronunciation, with its sounds again highlighting the semantic moment of the beloved son of Judah: Leb - in Hebrew - heart; and in the Arab environment, the name Abbas replaced the name of Judah, as the Arabic translation of the word lion. In a similar way, Neuphalim or Naphtali gives the name Hirsh, etc. Names, any stable names, I repeat, are very few in the world and are borrowed and re-borrowed by peoples from each other to adapt them to new conditions. At first it may seem that some names have nothing in common with each other, but a more careful look will quickly establish the internal unity of entire groups of names. We can say: there are no names, neither Hebrew, nor Greek, nor Latin, nor Russian, etc., but there are only universal names, the common heritage of mankind, which appear in very different aspects. In many cases, the phoneme of the name remains unchanged or reworked, while the root meaning is lost or is grafted with a new one. Such, for example, is the name Iflat of the Persian Jews, which is a reworking of the Greek name Plato, and there are many of these. Even the original names of a people can sonically adapt to a new linguistic environment. Thus, in Spain, the Jews received biblical names from the Arabic sound style - for example, Akaz - from Isaac, Coffen or Koffe - from Kohen, Condia - from Uom-Tob, Crescas or Creskes from Tsemakh, etc. This and other processes in the life of names are characteristic of all peoples and all languages. Diminutive, affectionate, derogatory, mocking, abusive, everyday and other modifications of each name should be understood as various adaptations of a given name to the shades of relationships within one people and one time. These devices do not form a vicious circle, and if there is a need to pour out certain feelings, verbal creativity in this sense can continue indefinitely: defined in itself, the name is completely plastic and perfectly perceives every pressure on it. But in certain times, the sense of the monumental form of a given name is lost, as unbearably majestic for this time; society does not need, or does not consider itself to need, the primary powers of a famous name. And then, along with the reduction of life itself, the original names, especially names that are spiritually binding, become distant and incomprehensible to society, being replaced by their degraded adaptations, or even being completely forgotten. Thus, in our time of spiritual impoverishment, the name John sounds alien, and, incomprehensible in its high order, it seems pretentious and insincere; it is supplanted by its lower rebirth, the wood of higher spirituality, the name Ivan. The son of thunder, the locked lightning, the fear of God, the love and wisdom of God is John; but these ontological heights are not due to the insignificant forces of time, when “the stomach stuck to the ground.” Ivan appears - a name that does not contain any shade of special love or any other special relationship, but is simply degraded and impoverished, a vague and devoid of clarity cast of the original name. And, discovered by one people, it begins to be recognized by others as very successfully conveying the demands of the time. Thus, the Russian Ivan, already with deliberate pressure, is borrowed by other peoples, for example, the Germans, from whom Jwan is made: for example, the famous classic philologist Jwan Mulier. Likewise, diminutive names, going beyond the limits where feelings of special closeness are implied, acquire a clearly sweet taste and in this case indicate some kind of softening of the spiritual frame of the culture. True reality with its ontological strength is no longer perceived by society; it wants to hide the inner emptiness from itself with surrogates and decorate itself with feigned and sugary feelings - although the genuine ones would not compensate for the direct foundations of life. Sasha Schneider in relation to an elderly, even old person - isn’t this a disgusting lisp, pretending that for some reason this draftsman is “Sasha” to the whole world, although in fact, what a person should see in a person, the vast majority, of course, do not see in this supposedly dearly loved “Sasha”. But this is not an exception, that is, this way of using names is almost a necessarily developing sentimentality, when society absolves itself of the sacred duty of seeing the image of God in its neighbor and tries to replace this duty with sugary dreams of something “immeasurably big.” The Church, giving names without subjective suffixes, requires, as many people think, relationships that are firmly on solid ground, so to speak, businesslike and, for salon taste, too definite so as not to seem rude. But this relationship is a duty, and not my generosity - genuine life, and not a dream that crumbles when faced with reality. It is this dream that those who have renounced the Church would like to instill, and these dreamy relationships are consolidated by diminutive names. The diminutiveness of a name, by its very meaning, has the task of expressing the exclusive nature of some personal relationships, some impulse of feeling, some special shade of address, some subjectivity. Meanwhile, a healthy attitude towards people in life in general, perhaps with rare exceptions, is a sober and objective attitude. Having been made generally and mechanically used, a diminutive name proclaims and is generally binding a corresponding subjective connotation, which the overwhelming majority do not have, cannot and should not have. Thus, the very name introduces falsehood and the need for some kind of subconscious self-hypnosis into the social atmosphere. This proliferation of diminutive names is evidence of the language itself about the debasement of modern culture, in comparison with the high ontological structure of church culture. In V.V. Rozanov we find an observation of the same kind... 370 Names are flexible and capacious, capable of accommodating a wide variety of particular circumstances in which a given person lives. So far we have been talking about a personal name, and already here its applicability to local, folk, historical conditions has affected the possibility of individual aspects of the name itself - phoneme, morpheme and seme - one way or another to change or adapt. But this does not limit the individualization of a name in each particular case of its use. After all, what is properly called a name is the central core of personality, its most essential form; When incarnated, this form acquires a ring of secondary onomatological symbols, which in their totality and together with the dominant symbol form the full name of a given person. Thus, the patronymic emphasizes the spiritual connection with the father in the name, the surname - with the clan. At a certain age, when the personality has not yet dried up and individual lines have not emerged in it, then generic traits, and, namely, paternal ones, can be especially obvious to superficial observation. It is worthy of attention that in this case the paternal name, through the patronymic, clearly prevails over the given person’s own name. If the personal name and the father’s name are very far from each other in character, and therefore, the taste of both in a person can be easily distinguished, then with particular clarity then in some cases the internal need to turn the name and patronymic upside down is felt by others, and make a patronymic from a personal name, and a name from a patronymic. Among various meetings of this kind, I now especially remember Nikolai Andreevich Novitsky 371, with whom I had to travel in 1915 on the ambulance train of the Chernigov nobility: despite the natural need to get used to his name, the thought was obsessively haunted that his name was Andrei Nikolaevich, and when I asked those around me about this, they discovered with laughter that, of course, this was so. I don’t know if his name has come out correctly now; I’ve lost sight of him. But now, I remember my student Dmitry Alekseevich Kuligin 372, who seemed to me to be living evidence against the doctrine of names, because for three years of our acquaintance he was clearly Alexei, and not Dmitry, Alexey Dmitrievich, and positively confused me. However, in the fourth year, when the revolution took place, its shock upset the apparently unstable balance of this young man and caused the crystallization of a supersaturated solution: from a youth, Kuligin became a young man in a few days, and from Alexei - a clear and typical Dmitry. Certain shades of individuality are expressed and formulated by various features in the combination of names. So, there are some kind of fatherless people, and in their entire makeup one can feel that they were born, in fact, only by the mother, and the father participated here somehow by the way, not ontologically. In relation to such people, even adults, even famous ones, if a patronymic is added, it is only outwardly, out of correctness; the natural tendency, even among strangers, is to call them only by their first name or by their first and last names. In society, it is involuntarily established to call them, unlike others, without a patronymic. Pushkin for everyone is Alexander Sergeevich and Tolstoy - Lev Nikolaevich, Rozanov - Vasily Vasilyevich, but - Vyacheslav Ivanov and Maximilian Voloshin, just by name, and the middle name does not come to mind, as to the idea - the idea that they had fathers, although mothers, the maternal moment in them is felt very vividly. On the contrary, there are people in whom the personally individual element is so lost in the everyday and generic that it is natural to call them by their patronymic name alone; Thus, in the peasantry, where the unity of the clan and society is especially strong and individualization is correspondingly weakly expressed, as well as in the heroic Homeric Greece, the custom is established of calling respectable people only by their patronymic. The additional names of the Western world, among Protestants and especially among Catholics, as well as the complex names of Arabs and others, as well as our nicknames, carry the same function: to differentiate the name and provide it for the expression of various subtle shades, depending on some peculiar factors in the formation of the personality. It is quite understandable that the antiquity of surnames, the nobility of the family or extraordinary historical events associated with the memory of the family gather in a representative of this kind especially many individualizing factors, moreover, clearly expressed ones, and therefore, the congestion of various names in the complex name of such a representative should not seem like something invented. But this polysyllabicity of an almost disintegrating name also indicates the corresponding structure of the bearer of such a name: he has a lot of wealth, historically accumulated, and each formative factor is itself clearly expressed; however, the individual himself is crushed by the historical heritage and recognizes himself only as a guardian of the ancestral treasures. It does not have enough formative power to organically unite all its content, it is devoid of integrity, and therefore creativity, doomed to disappear, just as its own name disappeared under the weight of the gold and decorations of this name; the wealth to which it is historically assigned will go to different hands, at best, going to younger families, or even become depersonalized in history museums. A change of place in the world, a new ontological and mystical, and partly just a social relationship with the world, entails a renaming, or, from another point of view, a renaming produces such a turning point in life. We'll look at these renaming processes later. For now, let’s just note that they, in fact, only graft onto the main name, which is absolutely inalienable from the personality, some new names, and at the same time, new names can be so strong that they push the main name into the background in the consciousness of both the renamed person and those around him. But this does not mean the complete disappearance of this name, along with the structure of the personality that it determines: by carefully peering into the personality, one can discover in it its former name and former spiritual disposition, as it were, the patronymic of a person born from himself. Sincerely accepted monasticism usually transforms the former name into a patronymic gender by monastic renaming; It is not without reason that monks often celebrate the day of remembrance of their worldly name, having in their souls the feeling that the main name with which a person entered the world remains forever. I remember how, before my eyes, one of my friends and students, Alexander Volkov, was tonsured with the name Pavel 373. He sought monasticism with conviction and consciousness, and experienced tonsure itself as a kind of mystical initiation and discontinuous transformation of personality. Soon after the tonsure, one could notice that Paul’s identity began to be sprinkled into the newly tonsured person and to push aside his Alexander’s identity in him, so that after some time this reaction of substitution and displacement was completed and the grafting of the name Paul fermented Alexander in a new way. But observation subsequently revealed a two-layer structure in it, and under Pavel’s painting, Alexander’s priming shimmered to the eye. In other cases of renaming, some complex nominal formations are again formed with a predominance of one or another of the names, depending on the life process of assimilating them and on the method of obtaining them. Until now, we have been talking fundamentally about the significance of names and about the personality type that bears this name. However, it is not enough to state this position in general without showing what, in particular, are the types of spiritual structure that correspond to the various names. The very capture of at least several such types will then serve as proof of the existence of nominal types; in fact, why shouldn’t these types exist at all, since the existence of types of certain, almost randomly chosen names has been shown in practice? There are two difficulties here that need to be stated. The first difficulty is the name itself. What is a Name? Once it acclimatizes in different environments and undergoes various changes, then the name must split, and when establishing the type of a known name, one has to rely on one or another particular type of it. And, if so, is it possible to establish a common nominal type? This difficulty is the same as when discussing a literary monument that has come to us through several successive translations and, moreover, in different ways. It cannot be said that translation necessarily worsens the original: on the contrary, it can even enrich it (for example, translations of Pushkin, Lermontov, Zhukovsky). But translation inevitably modifies what is being translated: if the shades of meaning are strictly observed, then it is necessary to change either the root composition, or the sound instrumentation, rhythm, etc.; It is impossible to be true to all three moments of speech at once, for then the two languages ​​would have to have in all respects the same nature, that is, to be one language. Therefore, when translating, you have to retain one thing and sacrifice everything else, and then the work ceases to be organic. Because of this and for the sake of the organic nature of the work, it is necessary to a certain extent to sacrifice all three aspects of speech, semantic, grammatical and sound, and re-create in another language some new work - the response of the spirit of a given people to an ideal theme embodied by another people. In this new work we recognize the ideal essence of the one translated, whereas in the translation that seems to be correct we do not feel the most important, organic unity. Through concrete and particular means of embodiment we come to the original spiritual form. Same thing with the name. A name cannot be translated into another language quite adequately, just as it cannot be transferred as raw material into another language so that it merges into an organic unity with all speech. It must be co-creatively recreated in another language, and therefore will necessarily be another aspect of the same nominal type. But through this aspect one can gain insight into the original spiritual type of the name, standing above all particular aspects, and manifesting itself in them, but each time uniquely colored. The study of names begins with a certain particular manifestation of a known name in the element of a certain language, but through this manifestation it approaches others and extends to the very spiritual roots of the nominal type that feeds them all. The second difficulty is explaining the research methodology. In fact, how exactly these types are known. Such a study could be externally conclusive if it were carried out only using statistical methods. One could, for example, study the probability of certain converging combinations of characteristics in the bearers of a well-known name and in representatives of some other name, and try to show that the name favors one or another combination. In particular, when focusing on the personality of the combination in question in a given person, one could again use statistically processed evidence about her from those around her. But such an “objective” method, as they say, would be difficult to apply, both due to its cumbersomeness and the lack of development of psychological and moral statistics. It would be tempting to implement nominal types in visual images. On the path of “objective” research, here the thought naturally encounters the summary photography developed by Galton 374 . By increasing the images of representatives of one name, it would be possible to create a collective image of this name; it would be natural to first do this in relation to people of a certain age, social status, nationality, and then combine these middle stages of communication with each other. Such an idea, however, would be as difficult to implement in practice as it would be to express it in general terms: the implementation of Galton’s photography requires a lot of work, and practically organizing the photography of people of the same name and suitable, social, and other characteristics would be very difficult. Consequently, when studying onomatological types, the “objective” path is hardly practicable, and at present it is difficult to imagine that the material could be covered exhaustively. And if so, then the need for intuitive penetration into names clearly appears. However, this difficulty is of the same order as in all sciences that establish a type: neither biology, nor psychology, nor aesthetics, nor history, etc., etc., does not exhaustively study the material for the formation of a type and is always limited to a certain number of striking cases. If the analysis of names had resorted to the same organic range of cases, then such a technique would not testify against onomatology. But, apparently, this latter is in a position both more and less advantageous than other disciplines. If, when analyzing a given name, you mentally stick to several specific representatives of it, then it is almost impossible not to get lost and replace the characteristics of the name with the particular circumstances of the persons in mind: visual and relatively crude impressions of a sensory order drown out the intelligent features of the nominal organization. In order not to stray from intelligent contemplation, it is necessary to carefully remove from ourselves all sorts of visual images, these or other examples that we have encountered in life. The difficulty of onomatological analysis lies in the constant need to protect the mind from sensory ideas that are much more vivid than the intuitions that need to be presented. When a nominal type is already fixed in a word, of course, nothing prevents us from testing it on specific material, trying them on with our friends, although even here great caution is required, because names should rather guide us in understanding a person, rather than being determined by this understanding. But the process of working on names itself—meditation—should be pure. What is the subject of such meditation? - Not images, but the name itself, like a word, a verbal organism, and in it - its sound is important. But it would be wrong to say that onomatology comes only from sound: its subject is the name. This word also condenses the experience of centuries, the naturally accumulated Galtonian photograph and the naturally calculated probabilities of spiritual statistics. The unconscious, this is all, however, hidden in the name, and when we move away from the conscious, but superficial and poor individual experience, then the generalized experience of all mankind appears in consciousness, and by us, in us, through us, history itself speaks. What follows is a series of nominal types expounded on the basis of this kind of intuition. They are distributed in some internal order; By constantly comparing individual names, the presentation can be carried out more concisely and more expressively. See: Pavel Florensky, priest. From theological heritage//Theological works. Sat. 17. Mm 1977. pp. 136–149. Florensky Pavel, priest. The Pillar and Ground of Truth. M., 1914. P. 617. The work remained unpublished. “Il Vicolo di Madama Lucrezia” (“Lady Lucrezia’s Lane”) - a short story by Prosper Merimee; first published in the writer’s posthumous collection “Last Novels.” In the preparatory materials for the work “Names,” a bibliographic reference in Florensky’s hand has been preserved: “Merimee P. “Selected Stories,” M., 1913, p. 152.” Mark is a character from the series “Etudes on Morals” (“Scenes of Political Life”, story “3. Marcas”). This story by Balzac was first published on July 25, 1840 in the magazine Paris Review under the title “The Death of an Ambitious Man.” In 1846, it was included in the twelfth volume of the first edition of The Human Comedy under its final title “3. Marcas." In the preparatory materials for the work “Names,” a bibliographic reference in Florensky’s hand has been preserved: “Victor Hugo. Post Scriptum of my life. Published by the editors of the “New Journal of Foreign Literature”, St. Petersburg, 1902, pp. 90–93.” In the preparatory materials for the work “Names,” a bibliographic reference in Florensky’s hand has been preserved: “From the experience. Autobiographical memories of N. Gilyarov-Platonov,” M., 1886, pp. 219–220.” This refers to the article by Vyach. Ivanov “About Pushkin’s “Gypsies”” // Ivanov Vyach. By the stars. St. Petersburg, 1909. Ivanov Vyach. By the stars. pp. 145–148. Fabre d'Olivet Antoine (1768–1825) - an occult thinker interested in the essence of ancient religions and languages, developed the theory that Sanskrit, Greek and Latin originated from the Hebrew language. Fabre d'Olivet is the author of the treatise "The Hebrew Language Restored". Florensky quotes this treatise from the publication: Fabre d’Olivet A. Vocabulaire radical ou série des racines hebraïques // Fabre d’Olivet. La langue hebraïque restituée, et le veritable sens des mots hébreux. Paris, 1815 (see corresponding letters and letter combinations). Charles de Brosset (1707–1777) – French historian and linguist. This refers to his work “Brosses Ch. de. Traité de la formation mécanique des langues. Paris, 1765. Rus. lane see: de Brosset S. Discourse on the mechanical composition of languages ​​and the physical principles of etymology / Transl. A. Nikolsky. St. Petersburg, 1821–1822. In the preparatory materials for the work “Names” a bibliographic reference has been preserved in the hand of Fr. Pavel: “Works of K. K. Sluchevsky.” T. 5, St. Petersburg, 1898, p. 139.” The following bibliographic reference has been preserved in the preparatory materials: “V. Windelbandt. - Preludes. St. Petersburg, 1914, p. 9. “What is philosophy?” See: Κοινή // Orthodox Theological Encyclopedia. T. 9. St. Petersburg, 1908. Col. 697–698, 653. A word is as effective as it is significant (lat.). Just like it sounds (lat.). From the memoirs of priest Alexander Elchaninov: “Not only as a confessor, but also as a scientist, a psychologist, he peered into human characters, from year to year he followed and took notes on individuals, gave masterful psychophysiological portraits, and, I think, not without the influence of his Fr. Pavel Florensky came to the task of finding the laws by which an individual biography is built, characteristics of ages, crises, characteristics of a name and its influence, planetary types, and so on.” (Hierodeacon Andronik (Trubachev). Bishop Anthony (Florensov) – confessor of priest Pavel Florensky // Journal of the Moscow Patriarchate. 1981. No. 9. P. 74). From a letter from Bishop Anthony to the gymnasium S.N. Fisher dated September 17, 1911: “A name is an omen of the moral education of a person, a Christian, a characteristic of his personality and an incentive to one or another activity” (ibid. p. 76). This text is presented in the preparatory materials with the following bibliographic reference: “Collected letters of the Optina elder Hieroschemamonk Ambrose to lay persons. Part 1. Sergiev Posad, b. g., letter 99, p. 123.” Refuge of ignorance (lat.). This text is given in the preparatory materials with the following bibliographic reference: “G. Suetonius Tranquillus. The Life of the Twelve Caesars. From lat. translation V. Alekseev. Ed. 2nd, St. Petersburg, 1904, Tiberius, p. 128.” This text is given in the preparatory materials with the following bibliographic reference: “Notes made from the words of the late Mr. Alexander Mikhailovich Ryleev. - “R Starina”, 1907, t. 132, p. 728.” This text is given in the preparatory materials with the following bibliographic reference: “A. Skalkovsky. The history of the new Sich or the last Zaporozhye kosh. Ed. 2nd, part III, Odessa, 1846, p. 214, approx. 1". This text is given in the preparatory materials with the following bibliographic reference: “Archim. Sergius (Vasiliev). His Eminence Anthony (Amphiteatrov), Archbishop of Kazan and Sviyazhsk, vol. 2, Kazan, 1885, p. 497, pr. 1.” Pushkin A.S. Mozart and Salieri. This text is given in the preparatory materials with the following bibliographic reference: “M. Pogodin. – A simple speech about sophisticated things. M., 1873, pp. 264–266." This text is given in the notebook “Notes in alphabetical order on onomatology, as a science about the categories of personal existence” with the following bibliographic reference: “Maximilian Voloshin. Faces of creativity. Book 1. Ed. Apollo. St. Petersburg, 1914, pp. 374–375.” Commentaries on the Complete Works of A. S. Pushkin in 10 volumes give the following explanation: “The Secluded House on Vasilyevsky” “... is a recording of Pushkin’s oral history, reviewed by himself; the story itself is not a random improvisation, but a presentation of a long-standing plan, which Pushkin, apparently, reflected on more than once. “The Secluded House on Vasilyevsky” is the first in a series of Pushkin’s St. Petersburg stories, which include “The House in Kolomna,” “The Queen of Spades,” and “The Bronze Horseman.” The story was published in A. Delvig’s almanac “Northern Flowers” ​​for 1829, signed “Tit Kosmokratov”. This signature is the pseudonym of Vladimir Pavlovich Titov, an acquaintance of Pushkin... V. Titov, in a letter to A.V. Golovnin dated August 29, 1879, wrote: “In a strictly historical sense, this is not the product of Kosmokratov at all, but of Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin, who masterfully told all this devilry of a secluded house on Vasilievsky Island, late in the evening, at the Karamzins... With the name of Pushkin the story was published in 1912." (Pushkin A.S. Complete collected works: In 10 volumes. T. X. pp. 507–540, 548–550). These newspaper clippings were preserved in the notebook “Notes in alphabetical order on onomatology, as a science about the categories of personal existence.” Russian word. 1914. December 5, 1915. May 25. Saint Bartholomew: whoever owes, pays (French). This text is given in the preparatory materials with the following bibliographic reference: “Moskovskie Vedomosti”, No. 13991, February 22, 1915. On the meaning of the term “Urphaenomenon” in Florensky’s worldview, see: Priest Pavel Florensky. To my children. M., 1992. pp. 158–159. That which is always, everywhere and for everyone (lat.). Further in the manuscript there is an omission. Florensky’s diary entries are dedicated to this trip, forming a single work under the author’s title “On the ambulance train of the Chernigov nobility.” In the typewritten text of “Names” this trip is dated to 1916, which is a typo - the trip took place from the end of 1914 to the beginning of 1915. D. A. Kuligin studied with Florensky in 1916–1917. Father Pavel wrote a review of his essay “The Ideology of the Cross in the Worship of the Orthodox Church,” dated 1917 (see: Hegumen Andronik (Trubachev). Priest Pavel Florensky - Professor of the MDA // Theological Works. Anniversary collection: "Moscow Theological Academy. 300 years (1685-1985)". M., 1986. P. 235). Hieromonk Pavel (Volkov) studied with Florensky in 1915–1916. Father Pavel wrote a review of his essay “The Lives of the Saints as a Basis for the Construction of Epistemology,” dated 1916 (see: Hegumen Andronik (Trubachev). Priest Pavel Florensky - Professor of the Moscow Academy of Sciences // Ibid. pp. 235, 241). 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