Mishka Koshevoy - one of the heroes of the novel "Quiet Don", a Cossack from the village of Tatarskaya, who went over to the side of the Bolsheviks, Dunyasha's boyfriend. This is a cruel and impulsive person, acting under the influence of momentary emotions. Having gone over to the side of the "Reds", he devoted his whole life to the fight against the whites. He calmly kills hundreds of people, justifying himself with the phrase: "We are all murderers." For ideological reasons, he is opposed to him in the novel Mitka Korshunov, although they are similar in character and committed atrocities.
In search of a "new" truth, Mishka became a ruthless killer. For him there were no more friends, neighbors, relatives. They were all divided either into "friends" or enemies. He considered enemies even children and the elderly, if they were from those families against whom he fought. So, avenging Kotlyarov and Shtokman, he brutally killed his grandfather Grishaka and burned down many houses of his enemies. Together with his atrocious comrades, he burned more than a hundred houses in the village of Karginskaya. It is in the order of things for Mishka to take care of Dunyasha after he killed her brother - Pyotr Melekhov. On the example of this hero, the author shows that there must be some kind of truth, universal, and not private, leading to enmity between relatives.
Vladimir Koshevoy is a Russian theater and film actor who became famous thanks to the series Crime and Punishment, Grigory R., Stone Heart and many others. He came into the profession on the third attempt, shone in the main roles and flashed in the episodes. Now I got into the ranks of the lucky ones - there is no need to complain about the creative downtime.
Well-known directors, Murad Ibragimbekov, are interested in the artist. Theaters in St. Petersburg and Moscow line up to see Vladimir on stage. But the paradox: knowing the characters by sight, the audience does not remember the name of the performer.
Vladimir Koshevoy is Russian by nationality, was born in Riga in 1976 in the family of a naval officer. Moreover, the dynasty of Koshevy military personnel includes many generations: both grandfathers and both great-grandfathers of Vladimir devoted their lives to the army. But since childhood he dreamed of the theater stage.
The children's stage of the biography of Vladimir Koshevoy does not contain lines about studying in a drama circle or a theater studio. But the boy from an early age was accustomed to good literature and quality performances. Great-grandmother Nina Yakovlevna took care of literary tastes, who knew how to read in the original not only foreign authors, but also ancient Russian literature in the Old Slavonic language. And the love for the theater was instilled by my grandmother Larisa Grigoryevna, who collected a unique video library of films and programs.
When the future artist was still small, his father was transferred to Moscow, where he lived in a hostel on Bolshaya Pirogovskaya Street. Vladimir Koshevoy wanted to be an actor since childhood, but his parents sharply objected to this path. At their insistence, the young man becomes a cadet of the Moscow Military University. However, Koshevoy could not continue the dynasty - the very idea of \u200b\u200bthe army was alien to him. After the military, another university appears in the biography of Vladimir Koshevoy, Moscow State University, where the guy graduates from the faculty of journalism.
Vladimir Koshevoy in the play "The Gambler" However, he was also not destined to become a journalist. While still in his 3rd year, Vladimir enters GITIS, in the acting workshop of Mikhail Skandarov. As a result, he has 3 higher educations, but only the last one brought satisfaction to the young man. Koshevoy discovers the world of the stage thanks to the Theater Association 814, then there was the theater named after, the theater company Antika, the Bolshoi Drama Theater named after.
Vladimir Koshevoy as the Master In addition to working on the stage and in the cinema, the artist records music tracks based on poems by Russian poets, voices cartoons and audio books. Koshevoy also took part in an unusual project: he “played” in a huge photo exhibition based on the novel “The Master and Margarita”. French photographer Jean-Daniel Laurier created this work, each frame of which illustrates the legendary work and, as it were, guides the viewer through the entire book. The photo performance was a great success both in Moscow and in Paris.
The filmography of Vladimir Koshevoy began to fill up when he was still studying at GITIS. The young actor starred simultaneously in several film projects, of which special attention should be paid to the drama “Instead of Me” with and, the detective story “Maroseyka, 12” and the historical film “Secrets of Palace Revolutions. Russia, XVIII century. Later, among the films of Vladimir Koshevoy, there were important roles in the military film “His Alien Life”, the detective story “Secret Guard” and the historical and biographical drama “Moon at Zenith”, in which he portrayed her husband.
In the TV series Taxi Driver, the character of the actor is a young man who joined the ranks of skinheads. However, the everyday life of a fascist organization changes his worldview. Unable to withstand the psychological stress, the hero gets hooked on drugs and at the end kills the leader of the gang.
All-Russian popularity came to Koshevoy after the image in the series "Crime and Punishment". The actor admits that after such success, many new scenarios and invitations to various talent shows for stars flooded in, but he refused everyone, as he was waiting for something equally heartfelt and serious. As a result, left for some period of time without acting work, Vladimir was even forced to earn extra money at a construction site. But soon he agreed to the main role in the crime saga “Fighter. The Birth of a Legend” and returned to the profession.
Later, the talented artist appeared in the action-packed psychological melodrama Mayakovsky. Two Days”, the melodrama Underpass, the medical series ER, the thriller Dangerous Delusion. A new round of popularity was given to Koshevoy by the historical drama "", in which he portrayed a prince who is considered a murderer. By the way, Vladimir played this character for the second time, because back in 2007 he tried on Yusupov's life in the film "Conspiracy".
In the film "Grandfather Ivan and Sanka" Koshevoy worked with. Later, he recalled that there was a sense of celebration on the set, and the actors laughed non-stop. Garkalin started shooting with ice cream, he believed that this way the day would turn out well and there would be more joy.
Vladimir Koshevoy as Felix Yusupov in the film "Grigory R." Project "Sonka. Continuation of the legend ”was remembered by the artists for the fact that Koshevoy almost became a patient in a psychiatric clinic where the film was shot. Vladimir got used to the role of Rokotov immersed in himself so much that the head physician was about to walk him to the ward.
In the social drama "The Farmer", the artist played an incorruptible police officer who is promoting the case of the former mayor of the city, who became the head of a criminal family. He acted in this role. Koshevoy will meet the master of cinematography in the film “They didn’t expect”, which was released in 2018.
Vladimir Koshevoy in the film "Stone Heart" Another film by Vladimir Koshevoy was released at the end of 2016. It's about the detective-melodramatic story "Stone Heart", in which the actor collaborates with. Colleagues studied at the same theater university, and the young man was in absentia in love with a spectacular girl. Perhaps the old feelings of Koshevoy helped the artists so successfully transform into heroes.
The painting "" took viewers to the era of the 70s, when the life of Soviet citizens was invisibly watched by the eye of the KGB. Mandatory was the presence of people in civilian clothes within the walls of the hotel, which receives foreigners. In the film, where espionage passions were intertwined with love ones, Vladimir played the role of a chess player Voskresensky.
The personal life of Vladimir Koshevoy is a closed topic. In a recent interview, the actor said that he has read the books with interest, but will never be so outspoken. Vladimir, by his type, is a closed person, a lone wolf. He rarely lets anyone into his inner world. A small social circle is mainly made up of friends whom I have known since childhood.
Koshevoy had several novels, quite long ones, but the artist does not name a single name of his beloved. Perhaps because not a single romantic relationship ended in a wedding, although, as the actor notes, such an event was likely.
From one such novel, Koshevoy, by his own admission, simply ran away.
“I don’t like it when they perceive me as a bag of money - they demand diamonds and yachts when they control every step when they make claims.”
Vladimir does not want to fit into generally accepted patterns either in life or in his work.
The social status of the future wife is not important, as is age. The chosen one may be "younger by 300 years or older by 800." The main thing is to love children. Before the eyes of Koshevoy is an example of parental relationships in which the mother is 100% oriented towards the father, lives on his thoughts, leisure, health. Recently, Vladimir has been leaning towards the fact that, perhaps, he will not start a family until he “plays enough and jumps around”.
The aristocratic appearance of Vladimir, with not the highest growth of 176 cm, is liked by photographers. Interviews of the artist for glossy publications are invariably accompanied by photos in which Koshevoy, dressed in no matter what suit, gives the impression of an intellectual. The actor does not cause problems and make-up artists. Vladimir's face is so plastic that one lighting is enough for a man to turn into a handsome man.
Vladimir Koshevoy in the film "The Beauharnais Effect" Publications in "Instagram"- proof of that. Enthusiastic comments are written to the movie star, paying tribute not only to acting talent, but also to a sense of humor. Vladimir answers some followers. In addition to this social network, Koshevoy has a page in
Even Dunyashka, the only native person, Koshevoy gives a stern warning due to the fact that she spoke unflatteringly about the Reds: “if you ever say that, you and I won’t live together, just know it! Your words are the enemy's…” All this characterizes fanaticism, uncompromisingness of his positions.
Koshevoy's ruthlessness does not come from natural cruelty, as, for example, with Mitka Korshunov, but is dictated and explained by him by the class struggle. Mother, killed by him, Peter Melekhov, Mishka says: “... There is no reason for my eyes to squint! And if Petro caught me, what would he do? Do you think you would kiss the poppy head? He would have killed me too…”
But all this does not bring the necessary harmony into the image of Koshevoy, and in the minds of readers he remains a negative hero. Mikhail Koshevoy is the embodiment of loyalty to the party, but on the scale of human values, he is lower than Grigory. Once, having heard that Mikhail was threatened with death at the hands of the Cossacks, Grigory, not thinking about his own danger, rushes to his aid: “... Blood has fallen between us, but are we not strangers?”181 If he constantly hesitates in the political struggle, then this happens because he is true to himself, human dignity, decency.
Mikhail, who humbly asks the farmer Soldatov not to extradite him, "eyes ran in confusion ...". Returning from Veshenskaya to the Tatarsky farm, and still not knowing what was happening there, Koshevoy hesitated: “What should I do? And if we have such a mess? Koshevoi was sad with his eyes ... "Later, when he escaped from the death that threatened him in the farm," he remembered how they took him prisoner, his defenselessness, his rifle left in the hallway - painfully blushed to tears ... ".
But a simple, cheerful village guy changes dramatically during the turbulent years and turns from a secondary image into one of the main characters.
“I’ll do it, namesake, by God I’ll do it, just leave the crumbs, otherwise the chips don’t get into your eyes,” Koshevoy persuaded him, chuckling and thinking in amazement: “Well, how similar, imp ... spitting image of dad! And the eyes and eyebrows, and the upper lip also raises ... What a job! Here direct speech and internal monologue help to present the simultaneous good nature and amazement on Koshevoy's face without any instructions from the author.
LVI The prisoners were brought to Tatarsky at five o'clock in the afternoon. The fleeting spring twilight was already close, the sun was already descending towards sunset, touching with a flaming disk the edge of a shaggy gray cloud stretched out in the west. On the street, in the shade of a huge public barn, hundreds of Tatars were sitting and standing on foot. They were transferred to the right side of the Don to help the hundreds of Yelans, who could hardly hold back the onslaught of the red cavalry, and the Tatars, on the way to the position, went into the farm with the whole hundred to visit their relatives and feed on grub. They had to leave that day, but they heard that captured communists were being driven to Veshenskaya, among whom were Mishka Koshevoy and Ivan Alekseevich, that the prisoners were about to arrive in Tatarsky, and therefore decided to wait. The Cossacks, who were related to those killed in the first battle together with Peter Melekhov, especially insisted on a meeting with Koshev and Ivan Alekseevich. The Tatars, talking listlessly, leaning their rifles against the barn wall, sat and stood, smoking, husking seeds; they were surrounded by women, old men and children. The whole farm poured out into the street, and from the roofs of the kurens the children tirelessly watched - were they being driven? And then a childish voice squealed! - Showed up! They're driving! The servicemen hurriedly got up, the people began to tremble, a dull rumble of animated conversation shot up, the feet of the children running towards the captured children stamped. The widow of Alyoshka Shamil, under the fresh impression of grief that had not yet subsided, began to wail hysterically. - Chasing enemies! - Bassist said some old man. - Beat them, damn it! What are you looking at, Cossacks?! - To their judgment! - Our distorted! - To the bolt of Koshevoy with his friend! Daria Melekhova stood next to Anikushkina's wife. She was the first to recognize Ivan Alekseevich in the approaching crowd of beaten prisoners. - They brought your farmer! Show off on him, on the son of a bitch! Have Christ with him! - Covering the ferociously intensifying fractional dialect, women's screams and crying, the sergeant-major - the head of the convoy - croaked and stretched out his hand, pointing from the horse at Ivan Alekseevich. - Where's the other one? Where is Cat Bear? Antip Brekhovich climbed through the crowd, on the move taking off his rifle epaulette from his shoulder, hitting people with the butt and bayonet of a dangling rifle. - One of your farmer, there was no okromya. Yes, a piece per person and this is enough to stretch ... - said the sergeant-at-arms escort, raking copious sweat from his forehead with a red washcloth, heavily moving his leg through the saddle pommel. The woman's shrieks and screams, growing, reached the limit of tension. Darya made her way to the escorts and a few paces away, behind the wet croup of the escort's horse, she saw Ivan Alekseevich's face, cast iron from the beatings. His monstrously swollen head, with hair stuck together in dry blood, was the height of a bucket standing up. The skin on his forehead was swollen and cracked, his cheeks were shiny purple, and on the very top of his head, covered with a gelatinous mess, lay woolen gloves. He apparently put them on his head, trying to cover a solid wound from the stinging rays of the sun, from flies and midges teeming in the air. The gloves had dried to the wound, and remained on his head... He looked around in a haunted manner, looking for and afraid to find his wife or his little son with his eyes, he wanted to turn to someone with a request to be taken away from here if they were here. He already understood that he could not go further than Tatarsky, that he would die here, and did not want his relatives to see his death, and he waited for death itself with ever-increasing greedy impatience. Hunched over, slowly and difficultly turning his head, he looked around at the familiar faces of the farmers and did not read regret or sympathy in a single glance he met - the looks of the Cossacks and women were mean and fierce. His faded protective shirt bristled and rustled at every turn. She was all covered in brown smudges of flowing blood, in the blood were cotton quilted Red Army trousers, and large bare feet with flat feet and twisted fingers. Daria stood against him. Choking from the hatred rising to her throat, from pity and the agonizing expectation of something terrible that was about to happen, now, she looked into his face and could not understand in any way: did he see her and recognize her? And Ivan Alekseevich, just as anxiously, excitedly, rummaged through the crowd with one wildly shining eye (the other was closed by a tumor), and suddenly, fixing his gaze on the face of Darya, who was a few steps away from him, he stepped forward unsteadily, like a very drunk one. He was dizzy from a great loss of blood, he was losing consciousness, but this transitional state, when everything around him seems unreal, when bitter dope turns his head and darkens the light in his eyes, bothered him, and he still kept on his feet with great tension. Seeing and recognizing Daria, he took a step, swayed. Some distant semblance of a smile touched his once hard, now disfigured lips. And this smile-like grimace made Darya's heart beat loudly and often; it seemed to her that it was beating somewhere near her throat. She came close to Ivan Alekseevich, breathing rapidly and rapidly, turning more and more pale with every second. - Well, great, kumanek! The ringing, passionate timbre of her voice, the extraordinary intonations in it, made the crowd quiet down. And in the silence, a muffled but firm answer sounded: - Great, godfather Daria. - Tell me, dear little kumanek, how are you godfather of your ... my husband ... - Daria gasped, grabbed her chest with her hands. She lacked a voice. There was a complete, tightly stretched silence, and in this unkind quiet silence, even in the most distant rows, they heard Daria finish the question a little intelligibly: - ... how did you kill my husband, Pyotr Panteleevich, killed-executed? - No, godfather, I did not execute him! - How did you not execute? Darya's groaning voice rose even higher. - Did you kill the Cossacks with Mishka Koshevoy? You? - No, godfather... We... I didn't kill him... - And who translated him from the world? Well who? Tell! - Zaamursky regiment then... - You! You killed! .. The Cossacks said that they saw you on a hillock! You were on a white horse! Refuse, you damned one? - I was also in that battle ... - Ivan Alekseevich's left hand rose with difficulty to the level of his head, adjusted the gloves that had dried to the wound. Uncertainty appeared in his voice when he said: - I was also in that battle, but it was not I who killed your husband, but Mikhail Koshevoy. He shot him. I am not responsible for godfather Peter. - And you, enemy, whom did you kill from our farms? Whose children have you disbanded as orphans in the world? - the widow of Yakov Podkovy shouted piercingly from the crowd. And again, heating up the already tense atmosphere, there were hysterical woman's sobs, screams and voices for the dead in a "bad voice" ... Subsequently, Daria said that she did not remember how and where the cavalry carbine ended up in her hands, who slipped it to her . But when the women wailed, she felt the presence of a foreign object in her hands, without looking, she guessed by touch that it was a rifle. She grabbed her first by the barrel in order to hit Ivan Alekseevich with the butt, but a front sight stuck painfully into her palm, and she intercepted the lining with her fingers, and then turned, raised her rifle and even took the fly on the left side of Ivan Alekseevich’s chest. She saw how the Cossacks shied away behind him, exposing the gray chopped wall of the barn; I heard frightened cries: "Tyu! Crazy! You'll beat your own! Wait, don't shoot!" And pushed by the bestially wary expectation of the crowd, the eyes focused on her, the desire to avenge the death of her husband and partly the vanity that suddenly appeared because now she is not at all like the rest of the women, that they are looking at her with surprise and even with fear and waiting denouement of the Cossacks, that she must therefore do something unusual, special, capable of frightening everyone - driven simultaneously by all these heterogeneous feelings, with frightening speed approaching something predetermined in the depths of her consciousness, which she did not want, and did not could think at that moment, she hesitated, carefully feeling for the trigger, and suddenly, unexpectedly for herself, she pressed it with force. The recoil made her sway sharply, the sound of the shot was deafening, but through the narrowed slits of her eyes she saw how instantly - terribly and irreparably - the trembling face of Ivan Alekseevich changed, how he spread and folded his arms, as if about to jump from a great height into the water, and then fell back, and with feverish speed his head twitched, the fingers of his outstretched hands began to stir, carefully scratching the ground ... Darya threw down the rifle, still not realizing what she had just done, turned her back In simple simplicity, she straightened her head scarf with a gesture, picked up her stray hair. “And he’s still throwing up ...” one of the Cossacks rendered, with excessive helpfulness avoiding Darya, who was passing by. She looked around, not understanding who and what they were talking about, heard a deep moan, coming not from her throat, but from somewhere, as if from her very insides, lingering on one note, interrupted by death hiccups. And only then did she realize that it was Ivan Alekseevich who had accepted death at her hand. Quickly and easily, she walked past the barn, heading for the square, accompanied by rare glances. People's attention turned to Antip Brekhovich. He, as if at a training review, quickly, on only socks, ran up to the lying Ivan Alekseevich, for some reason hiding the bare knife bayonet of a Japanese rifle behind his back. His movements were calculated and correct. He squatted down, pointed the tip of the bayonet at Ivan Alekseevich's chest, said quietly: - Well, die, Kotlyarov! - and leaned on the hilt of the bayonet with all his strength. Ivan Alekseevich died hard and long. With reluctance, life left his healthy, mousy body. Even after the third blow with the bayonet, he still opened his mouth, and from under his snarled, blood-stained teeth came a viscous, hoarse: - Aaaa! .. - Oh, cutter, to hell! - shoving Brekhovich away, said the sergeant-major, the head of the convoy, and raised his revolver, busily screwing up his left eye, aiming. After the shot, which served as a signal, the Cossacks, who were interrogating the prisoners, began to beat them. They rushed in all directions. Rifle shots, interspersed with shouts, clicked dryly and briefly ... An hour later, Grigory Melekhov rode up to Tatarsky. He drove the horse to death, and he fell on the road from Ust-Khoperskaya, on the stretch between two farms. Having dragged the saddle on himself to the nearest farm, Grigory took an inferior horse there. And he was late... A hundred Tatars on foot left like a mound to the Ust-Khopersky farms, to the edge of the Ust-Khopersky yurt, where there were battles with units of the Red Cavalry Division. The farm was quiet, deserted. The night of a dark wadded wing, the surrounding hillocks, the Zadonye, the murmuring poplars and ash-trees... Grigory rode into the base, entered the hut. There was no fire. Mosquitoes rang in the thick darkness, and the icons in the front corner shone with dull gilding. Inhaling from childhood the familiar, exciting smell of his native home, Grigory asked: - Is there anyone at home there? Mommy! Dunyashka! - Grisha! Are you? - Dunyashkin's voice from the burner. The slapping tread of bare feet, in the opening of the doors the white figure of Dunyashka, hastily tightening the belt of her underskirt. - Why did you go to bed so early? Where is mother? - We have here ... Dunya was silent. Grigory heard her breathing frequently, excitedly. - What do you have here? Have the prisoners been driven away for a long time? - Beat them. - Ka-a-ak? .. - The Cossacks beat ... Oh, Grisha! Our Dasha, damned bitch, I ... - indignant tears were heard in Dunyashka's voice, - ... she herself killed Ivan Alekseevich ... shot at him ... - What are you talking about ?! cried Grigory, frightened, grabbing his sister by the collar of her embroidered shirt. The whites of Dunyashka's eyes sparkled with tears, and from the fear frozen in her pupils, Grigory realized that he had not misheard. - And Mishka Koshevoy? And Shtokman? - They were not with the prisoners. Dunyashka briefly, inconsistently told about the massacre of the prisoners, about Daria. - ... Mom was afraid to spend the night with her in the same hut, she went to the neighbors, and Dasha came from somewhere drunk ... She came drunker than dirt. Sleeping at once ... - Where? - In the barn. Grigory entered the barn, flung open the door. Darya, shamelessly heading her hem, slept on the floor. Her slender arms were outstretched, her right cheek shone, abundantly moistened with saliva, from her open mouth she sharply reeked of moonshine fumes. She lay with her head awkwardly turned upside down, her left cheek pressed against the floor, breathing heavily and heavily. Never before had Gregory felt such a mad desire to chop. For several seconds he stood over Daria, groaning and swaying, tightly clenching his teeth, examining this lying body with a feeling of irresistible disgust and disgust. Then he took a step, stepped with the heel of his boot on Darya's face, blackened by half-arches of high eyebrows, croaked: - Ggga-du-ka! Daria groaned, muttering something drunkenly, and Grigory clutched his head with his hands and, rattling the sabers on the thresholds, ran out to the base. That same night, without seeing his mother, he left for the front.The epic novel “The Quiet Don” by M. A. Sholokhov is a grandiose work about the life and life of the Don Cossacks. The cataclysms of the cruel twentieth century disrupted the peaceful course of people's life, life on the Don went wrong.
One of the brightest episodes confirming the tragedy of what is happening on the Don is the episode of Mikhail Koshevoy's visit to the Melekhovs' house.
Ilyinichna was exhausted while waiting for her son. She has already become weak and old. Numerous losses and losses - you broke her, and age made itself felt. Every day she thought of Gregory, waited for him every minute, did not let anyone doubt his return for a moment, kept warm food for him, hung his clothes in the front corner as a pleasant memory. And now, instead of Gregory, the first enemy appears in her house, Mishka Koshevoy, the murderer of her son Peter. Ilyinichna cannot find a place for herself from indignation. She hates the bear. Koshevoy, on the other hand, came to the Melekhovs immediately the next morning after his return. He missed Dunyashka, and Ilyinichna's harsh reception did not bother him at all. Ilyinichna began to shame him and drive him out of her house. Mishka did not pay any attention to her words. He perfectly understood the mistress of the Melekhov house, but he was not going to deviate from his either. Dunyashka had the hardest time in this situation, who, only hearing the voice of Mikhail, could not find a place for herself. On her face "a thick blush flashed, then pallor covered her cheeks so that on the thin hump of her nose protruded
longitudinal white stripes. At the sight of Dunyashka, who nevertheless could not stand it and left the room, Koshevoy's dull eyes brightened up. Love for her is the only thing left in his life, and Ilya-nichna had to come to terms with this.
She starts a difficult conversation with Mikhail. But he was waiting for this conversation. He knew that Melekhova would call him a murderer, he knew that he would have to look into the eyes of his mother, whose son he personally killed. Koshevoy explains his act by the war. “And if Petro caught me, what would he do?” he exclaims angrily, arguing with the old woman. War is inhuman. Civil - doubly. Brother went against brother, neighbor against neighbor, and this had to be explained to Mishka Ilyinichna. Koshevoy tells the old woman about his spiritual sensitivity, that he never raised a hand against an animal, that the war forced him to be as cruel as everyone else was on it. An unpredictable fate decreed that Michael's heart burned with love precisely for Dunya Melekhova, that her own brother ended up in an enemy camp, that the Melekhov Korshunovs were also on the other side of the barricades. Their fate is tragic, but not at all happier than their Koshevoy, who remained completely alone. War, according to Sholokhov, decomposes the souls of people, kills the human in them.
After a long argument with Mishka, Ilyinichna begins to understand that it is not so easy to drive him away from their house. Koshevoi was characterized by bullish stubbornness, the insulting antics of the “enraged old woman” did not touch him, and, most importantly, he knew that Dunyashka loved him too, therefore, there was a point in seeking her.
At a certain moment, Dunyashka cannot stand it either and rebels against her mother's prohibitions. Her love is stronger than her fear of her mother, stronger than respect for her. Despite all the cruelty of the war, natural human feelings remained just as strong, exhausted people still continued to love, because life went on.
Ilyinichna did not resist for long. The old woman, who always lived by the universal idea of a home, motherly duty, could not live in a new way, to live with the idea of hatred. Mikhail soon began to help them with the housework. It was difficult to contradict him: without a male hand, everything at the Melekhovs had long since fallen into disrepair. Seeing how thin the "murderer" has become, Ilyinichna pities him, obeying the eternal unbidden feeling - "wrenching maternal pity." As a result, unable to stand it, Ilyinichna calls Mikhail for dinner, in fact recognizing him as a member of the family. At dinner, she watches him intently, and it is at this moment that, unexpectedly for herself, she is imbued with a different feeling for him. This paradoxical phenomenon - pity for the murderer of his son - the writer explains by the strength of the character of a simple Russian woman. The people suffered many losses, the Melekhovs suffered, but life went on, and somehow it was necessary to put up with its new circumstances.
The novel "Quiet Flows the Don" is the writer's passionate appeal to people to preserve universal human values and renounce wars and violence.
