Open
Close

Calm down Masha, what does Dubrovsky mean? Where does the phrase “calm down, Masha, I’m Dubrovsky” come from, or tragic irony

Calm down, Masha, I'm Dubrovsky

(from the film "Dubrovsky", 1936) - a call not to worry, not to make noise.


Live speech. Dictionary of colloquial expressions. - M.: PAIMS. V.P. Belyanin, I.A. Butenko. 1994 .

See what “Calm down, Masha, I’m Dubrovsky” in other dictionaries:

    Dubrovsky (story)- This term has other meanings, see Dubrovsky. Dubrovsky Cover of the 1946 edition. Genre: story... Wikipedia

    - (from the phrase Calm down, Masha, I am Dubrovsky, see above) everything will be fine... Live speech. Dictionary of colloquial expressions

    Troekurova, Marya Kirilovna ("Dubrovsky")- See also Daughter of Cyrus. Petrovich, a seventeen-year-old girl; her beauty was in full bloom. She had no friends and grew up in complete solitude, rarely appearing among her father’s guests. Her upbringing, which once began under the guidance of Mamzel Mimi, was... ... Dictionary of literary types

    MEN'S ZIGZAG- “MALE ZIGZAG”, Russia, IRKA FILM, 1992, color, 77 min. Comedy. “Male Zigzag” is performed in the genre of cultural film. The viewer was signaled about this in the credits, where it was indicated: “scriptwriter, director and sex therapist Yuri Rogozin.” Clinical... Encyclopedia of Cinema

    Feast- Hospitality * Ball * Wine * Food * Gift * Holiday * Christmas Ball (Masquerade, Carnival, Evening, Raout, Banquet, Feast) Dumas Alexander (Dumas), father of the Count of Monte Cristo, novel, 1845 1846 Translation from French by L. Olavskaya, V. Stroeva Approaching... ... Consolidated encyclopedia of aphorisms

    Hope- introductory word and in the meaning of the predicate 1. Introductory word. Identified by punctuation marks. Details about punctuation when introductory words see Appendix 2. (Appendix 2) “Yes, of course! - exclaimed Pigasov, - pride - I understand this, and I hope you do... ... Dictionary-reference book on punctuation

    melancholic

    melancholy- MELANCHOLIC, MELANCHOLIC oh, oh. mélancolique floor melankoliczny lat. melanculicus. 1. Rel. to melancholy and to melancholic people, characteristic of them. BAS 1. Books and artistic instruments lay near her, for the melancolic disposition is very... ... Historical Dictionary Gallicisms of the Russian language

Books

  • Calm down, Masha, I’m Dubrovsky! , Logunova Elena Ivanovna. India's loving brother Kazimir couldn't think of anything better than to invite his sister to... the cemetery - one of his mistresses was being buried, and the ladies' man feared the revenge of his deceived husband. There to him... Buy for 140 rubles
  • Calmly Masha and Dubrovsky, Logunova E.. India’s loving brother Casimir couldn’t think of anything better than inviting his sister to... the cemetery - one of his mistresses was being buried, and the ladies’ man feared the revenge of his deceived husband. There to him...

Elena Logunova

CALM, MASHA, I AM DUBROVSKY!

- That's it!

I slammed the door hard and barely managed to stop myself from kicking the trash can.

- It didn’t work out? – Zyama easily deciphered my pantomime.

“Cholera,” I sadly repeated instead of answering and made a brutal grimace towards the window, behind which, in the coolness of the air-conditioned office, sat the infection, aka cholera, aka the accountant of the development company “Housing” Maryana Zalesskaya.

I fiercely hated this nasty woman with the nose of a toucan and the eyes of an alligator after our first meeting. Then this toucan-crocodile refused to pay me my honestly earned money, which I firmly counted on. So firmly that I even ordered a friend who lives in South Africa and periodically comes to the homeland of her ancestors for leave, to bring me an original ring with an amethyst of a special African cut. My friend didn’t let me down, she brought a nice ring for me to look at, but the vile Maryana took me for a ride with the money, and the exclusive jewelry literally floated away into the wrong hands. This was all the more offensive because I worked out the money squeezed by the nasty Maryana with a brilliance that could put a South African amethyst to shame.

Last month, my brother Zyama and I put together a luxurious advertising booklet for Housing. My brother-designer took on the artistic part, and I inspiredly wrote an uncontrollably laudatory text, which I would gladly amend in hindsight. In particular, now I would spell the name of the development company that offended me, “Housing,” with the letter “y” and easily argue for the need for such a change. Definitely, Maryana Zalesskaya would be much more suited to be an accountant at the Zhulye company! Today she pushed me for the second time with money, citing temporary financial difficulties of the company.

- Eh, Dyukha! – Zyama shook his head. – You don’t know the correct approach to treasurers and housekeepers, you have to teach and teach! Watch how the master does it!

The little brother pulled on his fashionable knitted shirt, walked up onto the porch with a light step, pushed the door with the sign “LLC Housing” and disappeared into the cool, gloomy hall.

- Master felt-tip pen!

I snorted contemptuously, but I did not neglect the opportunity to learn from a well-known specialist in seducing financially responsible female persons, for which purpose I moved under the window of Maryanina’s office and pressed my ear to the darkened glass.

Our Zyama sincerely considers himself a brilliant designer. This is quite normal, because self-confidence and creative ambitions are our family traits. The only thing that somewhat surprises me is that regularly there are eccentrics who are not the same blood as us, the Kuznetsovs, who share Zyamino’s opinion. As a result, the great Kazimir Borisovich always has highly paid orders.

As a freelance artist, Zyamochka is forced to combine creativity with commerce, so he has become quite skilled at extracting money from clients. True, wealthy ladies often use Zyama’s design services, and these connoisseurs of beauty are ready to fork out for the mere opportunity to meet my seductive brother once again. For reasons that are not entirely clear to me, Zyama has such a crushing success among women that, if transferred to the field of art, would provide my brother with a lifetime monument and unfading glory for centuries.

However, I strongly doubted that the vaunted male charm would help Zyama seduce Maryana Zalesskaya. This woman gave the impression of a sexless robot, programmed solely for selfless service to accounting.

- Hello, Maryanochka Igorevna! – Zyama sang in a velvety voice, entering the office of my enemy.

“Hello, Kazimir Borisovich,” the accountant greeted him dryly.

It became clear to me that Zyamin’s male charms had no effect on Maryana. He obviously understood this too and instantly changed tactics, adding sincere concern to his velvet voice:

– I hope that the recent fall of the Mongolian tugrik did not undermine the financial strength of your company?

- What a scoundrel! – I whispered with envious admiration.

The financial strength of her native company worried Mrs. Zalesskaya much more than all the Casanovas and Don Juans of the world put together. The mention of the unstable Mongolian tugrik in connection with the financial affairs of the company plunged the accountant into confusion.

“N-no, it didn’t,” she muttered, frowning in alarm.

There was a glitch in the accounting robot program, and Zyama immediately took advantage of it.

– I’m very happy! - he said. – Actually, I had no doubt about the reliability of your company. Of course, the tragic collapse of the tugrik could not lead to financial problems for Zhilye LLC. Well, if that’s the case, I’m ready to receive my fee!

Zyama rubbed his palms and stared at Maryana with captivating innocence. She opened her mouth and closed it after a couple of seconds without saying anything. With a mixed feeling of annoyance and admiration, I saw that the accountant reached for the safe.

- Write down the words! – I told myself and reached into my bag for a notepad and pen.

I barely had time to record the miraculous phrase about the tragic fall of the tugrik, when Zyama came out onto the porch. He smiled triumphantly and shook banknotes in the air, which he unfolded like a lush fan to heighten my irritation.

-Have you seen it? – fanning himself with the fee, the brother asked triumphantly. - Learn while I'm alive!

“Lend me a couple of thousand for two days,” I asked gloomily. - Bronich promised me a salary the day after tomorrow.

Bronich, or Mikhail Bronislavovich Savitsky, is my boss, director of the MBS advertising agency. He's a great guy, but he's a little greedy, so he might be able to delay his promised salary by a day or two. Actually, it was precisely in anticipation of the meeting with Bronich the day after tomorrow that I copied Zyamino’s spell about the shaky tugrik. Perhaps it will come in handy.

“I’ll lend it, but on one condition,” my brother agreed surprisingly easily. - You're going to the cemetery!

I raised my eyebrows: Zyamin’s words unpleasantly surprised me. No, I understand, of course, debts need to be collected, but not as harshly! For a couple of thousand to drive your only sister into the grave?! I didn't expect this from my brother.

“You see, a duty of honor obliges me to appear at the funeral, but I just can’t go there alone,” Zyama explained vaguely.

Funerals have never before seemed to me like a ceremony in which the participation of single citizens is categorically unacceptable. I told Zyama about this, and my brother lowered his eyes like a shy girl, and his face, in the areas free from intricately shaved stubble, was covered with a touching blush.

In this article we will tell you where the phrase “Calm down, Masha, I’m Dubrovsky” came from in everyday life. colloquial speech. Why did this phrase become a catchphrase, and what can it be associated with, why the expression, albeit slightly paraphrased, from Pushkin’s novel with a tragic end, where two young lives could not unite into one common destiny, stood on a par with jokes and even anecdotes.

The genius of the pen, or Everything was wrong

Where did the phrase “Calm down, Masha, I’m Dubrovsky” appear in our lives in exactly this context? This expression in most cases causes a reaction of laughter or can reassure and warn that the situation is “under control.” It is mistakenly believed that this phrase belongs to the pen of the Russian poet Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin, who, of course, is the progenitor of this “masterpiece”, but in the work itself main character says: “I am Dubrovsky, you should not be afraid of my name.” I would also like to note that it is in this context that this phrase was not used in any of the film adaptations of Pushkin’s works.

Song, joke

Boris Grebenshchikov wrote the song “Dubrovsky” back in 1997. Everything in it is complex and understandable only to the author himself, but I would like to remember one “bearded” anecdote. Night. The thief climbed into the room through the balcony, came up to the bed and said: “Calm down, Masha, I’m Dubrovsky!” A dull thud is heard and a hoarse male voice answers: “Calm down, Dubrovsky, I’m not Masha!” Do you remember? Yes, it’s funny and amusing, but again I would like to return to why this phrase has become a joke. Perhaps it is ironic that Dubrovsky, a brave and daring robber, could not help himself and overestimated his strengths and capabilities. And that’s why a touch of irony is so tightly attached to the expression “Calm down, Masha, I’m Dubrovsky!” Where the phrase comes from and who the author is is not known for certain. One thing we can say is that this person has a wonderful sense of humor and knows how to give good mood. And remember, friends, that in this life only you can decide how to live it, either in joy or in despondency.

Just don't worry!

His Majesty Humor! After all, it was thanks to him that the famous expression appeared. Everything that brings laughter and a smile in our lives can be attributed to his charms. The ability to laugh in difficult times life situations is a sign of highly developed intelligence. And if something out of the ordinary happens, then you want to see not a hysterically screaming subject, but to be next to someone who will calmly say: “Calm down, Masha, I’m Dubrovsky!” Where the phrase came from in our everyday life was discussed above. But I would like to express my admiration for that witty person who, even in tragic moments of life, is able to reduce the already high tension.

The phrase: “Calm down, Masha, I’m Dubrovsky,” which causes a smile, may have a different meaning, namely to warn, on the one hand, to remain calm, on the other hand, it may indicate the fact that, in contrast to the tough guy, there will always be someone who much cooler. Where does the phrase: “Calm down, Masha, I’m Dubrovsky!” came into our lives? From where, in a moment of great excitement, a share of a healthy sense of humor is appreciated, when many of us would prefer to hear just that catchphrase, rather than the even more frightening “just don’t worry.”

- That's it!

I slammed the door hard and barely managed to stop myself from kicking the trash can.

- It didn’t work out? – Zyama easily deciphered my pantomime.

“Cholera,” I sadly repeated instead of answering and made a brutal grimace towards the window, behind which, in the coolness of the air-conditioned office, sat the infection, aka cholera, aka the accountant of the development company “Housing” Maryana Zalesskaya.

I fiercely hated this nasty woman with the nose of a toucan and the eyes of an alligator after our first meeting. Then this toucan-crocodile refused to pay me my honestly earned money, which I firmly counted on. So firmly that I even ordered a friend who lives in South Africa and periodically comes to the homeland of her ancestors for leave, to bring me an original ring with an amethyst of a special African cut. My friend didn’t let me down, she brought a nice ring for me to look at, but the vile Maryana took me for a ride with the money, and the exclusive jewelry literally floated away into the wrong hands. This was all the more offensive because I worked out the money squeezed by the nasty Maryana with a brilliance that could put a South African amethyst to shame.

Last month, my brother Zyama and I put together a luxurious advertising booklet for Housing. My brother-designer took on the artistic part, and I inspiredly wrote an uncontrollably laudatory text, which I would gladly amend in hindsight. In particular, now I would spell the name of the development company that offended me, “Housing,” with the letter “y” and easily argue for the need for such a change. Definitely, Maryana Zalesskaya would be much more suited to be an accountant at the Zhulye company! Today she pushed me for the second time with money, citing temporary financial difficulties of the company.

- Eh, Dyukha! – Zyama shook his head. – You don’t know the correct approach to treasurers and housekeepers, you have to teach and teach! Watch how the master does it!

The little brother pulled on his fashionable knitted shirt, walked up onto the porch with a light step, pushed the door with the sign “LLC Housing” and disappeared into the cool, gloomy hall.

- Master felt-tip pen!

I snorted contemptuously, but I did not neglect the opportunity to learn from a well-known specialist in seducing financially responsible female persons, for which purpose I moved under the window of Maryanina’s office and pressed my ear to the darkened glass.

Our Zyama sincerely considers himself a brilliant designer. This is quite normal, because self-confidence and creative ambitions are our family traits. The only thing that somewhat surprises me is that regularly there are eccentrics who are not the same blood as us, the Kuznetsovs, who share Zyamino’s opinion. As a result, the great Kazimir Borisovich always has highly paid orders.

As a freelance artist, Zyamochka is forced to combine creativity with commerce, so he has become quite skilled at extracting money from clients. True, wealthy ladies often use Zyama’s design services, and these connoisseurs of beauty are ready to fork out for the mere opportunity to meet my seductive brother once again. For reasons that are not entirely clear to me, Zyama has such a crushing success among women that, if transferred to the field of art, would provide my brother with a lifetime monument and unfading glory for centuries.

However, I strongly doubted that the vaunted male charm would help Zyama seduce Maryana Zalesskaya. This woman gave the impression of a sexless robot, programmed solely for selfless service to accounting.

- Hello, Maryanochka Igorevna! – Zyama sang in a velvety voice, entering the office of my enemy.

“Hello, Kazimir Borisovich,” the accountant greeted him dryly.

It became clear to me that Zyamin’s male charms had no effect on Maryana. He obviously understood this too and instantly changed tactics, adding sincere concern to his velvet voice:

– I hope that the recent fall of the Mongolian tugrik did not undermine the financial strength of your company?

- What a scoundrel! – I whispered with envious admiration.

The financial strength of her native company worried Mrs. Zalesskaya much more than all the Casanovas and Don Juans of the world put together. The mention of the unstable Mongolian tugrik in connection with the financial affairs of the company plunged the accountant into confusion.

“N-no, it didn’t,” she muttered, frowning in alarm.

There was a glitch in the accounting robot program, and Zyama immediately took advantage of it.

– I’m very happy! - he said. – Actually, I had no doubt about the reliability of your company. Of course, the tragic collapse of the tugrik could not lead to financial problems for Zhilye LLC. Well, if that’s the case, I’m ready to receive my fee!

Zyama rubbed his palms and stared at Maryana with captivating innocence. She opened her mouth and closed it after a couple of seconds without saying anything. With a mixed feeling of annoyance and admiration, I saw that the accountant reached for the safe.

- Write down the words! – I told myself and reached into my bag for a notepad and pen.

I barely had time to record the miraculous phrase about the tragic fall of the tugrik, when Zyama came out onto the porch. He smiled triumphantly and shook banknotes in the air, which he unfolded like a lush fan to heighten my irritation.

-Have you seen it? – fanning himself with the fee, the brother asked triumphantly. - Learn while I'm alive!

“Lend me a couple of thousand for two days,” I asked gloomily. - Bronich promised me a salary the day after tomorrow.

Bronich, or Mikhail Bronislavovich Savitsky, is my boss, director of the MBS advertising agency. He's a great guy, but he's a little greedy, so he might be able to delay his promised salary by a day or two. Actually, it was precisely in anticipation of the meeting with Bronich the day after tomorrow that I copied Zyamino’s spell about the shaky tugrik. Perhaps it will come in handy.

“I’ll lend it, but on one condition,” my brother agreed surprisingly easily. - You're going to the cemetery!

I raised my eyebrows: Zyamin’s words unpleasantly surprised me. No, I understand, of course, debts need to be collected, but not as harshly! For a couple of thousand to drive your only sister into the grave?! I didn't expect this from my brother.

“You see, a duty of honor obliges me to appear at the funeral, but I just can’t go there alone,” Zyama explained vaguely.

Funerals have never before seemed to me like a ceremony in which the participation of single citizens is categorically unacceptable. I told Zyama about this, and my brother lowered his eyes like a shy girl, and his face, in the areas free from intricately shaved stubble, was covered with a touching blush.

“Uh-uh, you see, Dyukha,” he said embarrassedly. - They are burying a lady with a decent reputation. And I had a special relationship with the deceased.

Nine o'clock in the morning. Finally, the bell from class rang, causing the students to jump from their seats as if they had been doused with boiling water. The ninth-graders closed their notebooks and books with joyful cries, without finishing the exercise they had begun with difficulty, and began frantically collecting textbooks and other school supplies. Alisa Kotova, a thin, short girl with platinum curls and big green eyes, is a diligent, diligent and quiet student. She collected her things calmly, without rushing, before carefully checking her diary entries with her homework on the board. And only after that Kotova decided to leave the class. As soon as the girl took a step out the door, someone flew into it. Alice dissatisfiedly shook invisible crumbs off her black skirt and decided to see what kind of blind idiot flew into her. Pfft, well, yes... This “blind idiot” turned out to be Igor Trotsky. A tall, tanned, muscular third-year student with blue-black, short-cropped hair and surprisingly warm, brown eyes. Having crashed into Aliska, this big guy didn’t even bother to ask for forgiveness or something. Trotsky looked at Kotova appraisingly, as if he was seeing her for the first time, winked slyly and took her chin:

Calm down, Masha,” he says condescendingly, looking into the surprised eyes of his classmate. - I'm Dubrovsky.

For probably about three minutes, Alice looked at her classmate in bewilderment, tilting her head slightly to the side and as if not understanding his words and actions. But suddenly the girl felt a strong, inexplicable anger. Everything was seething inside, as if it had exploded. Gathering all her strength into a fist, Kotova gave him a resounding slap in the face. This impudent man swayed a little and grabbed his cheek. Was he in pain? No. Was he surprised? Exactly! How can such a small, fragile and quiet nerd do this? Igor looked at his classmate in surprise and involuntarily noticed how beautiful she was... So sweet... So gentle... So dear...

It's late, Dubrovsky. “I’m married,” Alice’s embittered face expressed contempt.

There was deathly silence in the Russian language class for literally a couple of moments. Everyone was silent: the teacher, the students who did not have time to get ready, the other class, the culprits of the silence themselves. Alice looked at Igor's puzzled face. And then the class was deafened by loud applause, shouts, hooting and laughter. Andrei Mikhailov, a classmate of Alisa and Igor, shouted:

Keep it up, Kotova! Beautiful!

Now the girl was in shock. She, not understanding anything, looked around at her classmates and finally turned towards “Dubrovsky”. The girl was even more surprised by the smile that appeared on the lips of the third-year student.

“But you’re not so simple, Masha,” he whispered playfully in her ear.

And you, Dubrovsky, are not a mistake, - Alice did not notice how her lips also broke into a smile.

Igor winked at her again and turned around and left the class with a dancing gait, forgetting why he came here in the first place.