Month: May 2009

I have just finished reading the book “Empire of the Czar” (A Journey Through Eternal Russia in 1839) by the Marquis de Custine, Copyright @1971 Princeton University Press, Published by Doubleday, New York, 1989. Listen to the song    Old Russia

The book was banned in Russia, where even discussion of it was forbidden.

Why? Because of tormented mind of the author as he was born in 1790, on the eve of the most harrowing period of the French Revolution. He might be described, as we see his life presently, as an emotional casualty of the Terror. His grandfather and his father were guillotined, his mother who had stood loyally by her young husband, visiting him in prison down to the last night, was herself taken and thrown into the death house after his execution. She escaped only narrowly, almost miraculously, the fate of her father-in-law and her husband. Astolphe was then two or three years old. The solitary mother was eventually released and brought up her beloved son with all her affection, attention, and protective patronage which she had. She was rich, powerful and beautiful. Later he had been married and had a son, he was actually fond of his young wife, but when she suddenly died in 1823, something gave way within him. Other impulses, too long repressed, broke through with great and dangerous violence. He became homosexual. In 1826 his little son would die, and then six months later his shattered and broken-hearted mother as well. He learned to accept his exclusion from the aristocratic society of Paris. He sought fulfillment, for the rest of his life, in travel, in literature, and in religion.

Custine was never a successful writer, and the above mentioned book was of no success either at his life and later. His hatred for the Russian autocracy which made a Russian character or vice verso. The influence was reciprocal: the Russian government could never have been established elsewhere than in Russia; and the Russians would never have been become what they were under a government differing from that which existed among them. Why the Russians did not resist? Why? Why? Custine tried to seek the reasons in the Asiatic origin, and violation of Peter the Great’ s reforms bringing the European customs and traditions into the Russian culture. Who knows? Time will tell. But in one thing we can agree with the poor Marquis when he journeyed through eternal Russia, his aristocratic dignity was suffering of vermin in the local inns, mud on the roads etc.,etc., his value of  Russia’s beauty: “This evening, at sunset, I contemplated the spectacle from the Kremlin, the survey of which I have made with as much admiration, and almost as much surprise, as I did at first.

The city of men was separated from the palace of giants, by a glory like one of Corregio’s: the whole was a sublime union of the marvels of painting and poetry.   

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The Kremlin, as the loftiest point in the picture, received on its breast the last streaks of day, while the mists of night had already enveloped the rest of the city. My heart beat with fear and admiration: I saw the whole cohort of the supernatural inmates of the fortress; their forms shone like demons painted on a ground of gold; they moved glittering towards the regions of night, from which they seemed about to tear off the veil; I expected to hear the thunder: it was fearfully beautiful.

The white and irregular masses of the palace reflected unequally the obliquely-borne beams of a flickering twilight. This variety of shades was the effect of the different degrees of inclination of different walls, and of the projections and recesses which constitute the beauty of the barbaric architecture, whose bold caprices, if they do not charm the taste, speak impressively to the imagination. It was so astonishing, so beautiful, that I have not been able to resist once more naming the Kremlin.”  Listen to the song about new Moscow Dmitri Hvorostovsky- Moscow Nights

Enjoy the beauty of old Moscow in images and a new one.

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A central issue in “Russian Ark” is the spread of enlightenment through and the rise of the nation-state, and with it various forms of nationalism. Accompanying the age of the nation-state-first its emergence from under the tutelage of Empire, and second its ferocious return after the fall of Soviet-styled socialism – there has been an explosion of discourses about nationalism and nostalgia.

“Russian Ark” begins with the anxiety produced by a sense of disorientation. The establishing shot is one of complete darkness accompanied by a cacophony of sounds-the wind, a ship’s foghorn, the tuning of instruments, the sound of moving water, muffled laughter, and distorted musical accents that merge into one another to become indistinguishable. This haunting background sound reappears throughout the remaining 90 minutes of film. A voice (Sokurov’s own) emerges out of the darkness and, almost as if in an internal monologue, seeks to orient itself: “I open my eyes and I see nothing, I remember only that there was some calamity…but I just can’t remember what happened to me.” Alluding to the opening lines of Dante’s “Inferno” (and Pushkin’s allegorical images of the flood of St. Petersburg in 1824), this lost soul seems to have strayed from the course of time. “There is no beginning or ending to this film…” The voice persona will remain estranged from the “action” of the film, following a group of eighteenth century officers and ladies through the back entrance of the Hermitage which was the Winter Palace of the tsars. To the right and to the left one can see the film shots and below it will be shown the image list of the sights of St. Petersburg of 19-th century.

Peter the Great not only founded the city, but also constructed the first incarnation of the Winter palace and the museum, which was then a Kunstkammer, library, and natural history museum for his Academy of Sciences. Catherine the Great was the founder of the Hermitage, and bought over 250 paintings in 1764 to begin the collection. Tsar Nicholas I opened the New Hermitage in 1852 and provided “public” access to the museum. The reign of Nicholas II marks the end of the Hermitage’s double role as museum and home to the tsars. It also marks the end of the epoch of Petrine reforms, and what the film presents as the splitting of Russia from Europe during the Soviet and post-Soviet periods.                                                                                                                                                                

The film mimics this historical progression and although “Russian Ark” (island) of the tsar emphasizes theatricality, it doesn’t spin it out of control into random. Instead the film hinges on the physical and historical map of the hermitage and the Winter Palace showing various periods of nineteenth century, the siege of Leningrad during WWII, contemporary Petrograd and back and forth in time. “Russian Ark” demonstrates how nostalgia for an imaginary past often produces various forms of erasure and national myths of origin. It treats history not as fact but as a poetic construction that has drifted in and out of Europe via metaphor, allusion, and myth.

What do you think about this subject, my cherished reader?          

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Vitas- reads a poem

Such a comment I got last night from Kseniya and today I am putting  it into my post. Here it is a portrait of Bella Akhmadulina.                                                                                                                                           

Dear Valentina! First I would like to thank you for your warm reception, for your hospitality and openness. For that energy and fullness of the joy of living which emanates from you, rarely one can meet such a person who is so fond of life, enjoys to the fullest and is not shy to express it in the most delicious and candid feelings! Well, now I would like to go to the main topic. I got very glad and surprised that on your web site there is “Reading and Discussion Club”. I am a big fan of the creations of great Russian poetesses Anna Akhmatova, Marina Tsvetaeva, Bella Akhmadulina, Veronica Tushnova and many others. I am not sure why but as always as was close to me “feminine” poetry – it seems to me – this one is more penetrating and sincere. I have one my favorite poem by B. Akhmadulina “Now about those…”. For a long-long time I could not understand whom she was writing about, perhaps there was not enough life experience, maybe not enough knowledge…But later, I have grasped about WHOM she was composing… And I became both happy and disappointed with myself why I could not understand it earlier. Surely you know this poem but I will quote it for you and your readers:

My Translation from Russian:

Now about those,

Whose children’s portraits,

Are hanging on the walls,

And gazing strangely at us,

As girls look at poetry conscripts.

Oh Horror Monsters!

With lace and cow’s lip,

Where everything’s not clear,

Don’t believe them,

They try to slip.

Away. Even if they don’t want,

They still pretend playing love games,

So a simpleton were caught and trapped,

“I am afraid”, as a coquette says,

A Darkness mistress and of flames.

Man incomparable!

Share the hell with her,

Torture, abandon, reproach yourself,

How foolish you are, and stern,

To tantalize her, whom else?

Your betrayal of her,

As if the honey in her ears,

Caressing her and all your male gist,

Would be spoken around,

In dirty gossip sound for years.

Another morning came out,

The cover of the gloomy night,

Who was a man once that finds out,

How difficult it is some time,

To wake up and neglect.

Her who is asleep,

Now flying in the paradise,

Who does not care about your sin,

Your duty, work, your family,

Oh Holy Christ!

It is getting time,

To go as shameful as beforehand,

To retreat into your own line,

Alone face to face a land,

Of your destiny.

Those whom I am speaking about,

Start their day quite otherwise,

The dawn breaks the brains’ pulse,

As if the eyes of lynx follow you around,

Questioning: “Why?”

She stares bravely!,

Fell in love in the Today!

Yesterday was not her wisdom,

You are not guilty. Her soul is gay,

Long live freedom!

She cares about the momentary sound,

Of her – it’s all the same,

Of pain. The highest level of wound,

Is beyond your understanding, I claim,

In all ages’ domain.

You tortured women,

You were brave and free,

Last night you joked, today oh, Amen,

You remember nee,

And so can be forgotten, thee.

In October, in Boldin Alley,

Gone faraway without tears,-

Freer as men, gentler as women,

To pay back for both and Alas!

For self.

I hope that you enjoyed this magnificent creation, and for doing my “lyrical” comments more interesting I would like to ask: And what about you, whom you think she is writing about?

No doubt that I will receive from you an immediate answer which I can read again on your wonderful web site. I beg your pardon for a long message-you need to make a big translation.

With respect,

Ksenia

Eugene gives big regards to You and Janko.

My answer:

Dear Ksenia,

Whom is the poetess writing about?  First of all, of what I have read these words are about shallow human relationships, which are devoid of any real depth of feelings, they are like fair weather relationships. When the storms of life hit, the people become awaken to the truth and the illusion gives way to a stark reality. Bella Akhmadulina’s poetry describes these  phenomena and the consequences of them, her solution of this event is getaway into  the poetry and reevaluate where one stands in this relationships, if  it is real, build on it, if  it is false, then leave. The choice is up to each person based on real true understanding of oneself and the other person. Irregardless you are a man or a woman, as for a poet, he goes away into his domain-poetry, Boldin Pushkin Fall, fruitful not only for Pushkin and the other poets or potesses too…                                                                    Ya toboyu zhivu…poslushayte obyazatelno

First I would like you to listen to the song with the lyrics on poem by a great Russian poetess Marina Tsvetaeva “And on leaving I will say” to attune your ear to poetry . А напоследок я скажу

Then I wrote a letter to Canadian poet John Woodsworth and he answered me, both letters are below. Between them I put another song to listen to, that one is with lyrics on a poem by another great Russian poetess Anna Akhmatova.

Dear John Woodsworth,

In “JW: Moskva-Jasnaja Poljana 98”,  kanadacha.ca/poetry I read your three poems, they are great, and before while residing in Russia I knew about your poems, your name was familiar to me. Now by sheer coincidence of circumstances I happened to be in Canada for 12 years and even becoming a citizen of Canada since 2003,  the same year when  the page from Moscow and Yasnaya Polyana was updated.

“Not far from the Kievski

Underground station

On a sidewalk  a pigeon lay,

Having just died.

A feather is all that remains  of

The mishap…

The body was already shoved

To one side.”

( Faith, Hope and Love…in Moscow)

I feel the wonderful connectedness between two cultures: Canadian and Russian, and going farther, deep understanding of big Russian literature through Yasnaya Polayana, Pushkiniana, Spasskoye Lutovinovo etc. All these places are close to me because I was raised up and educated in Russia, traveled a lot and read much. Because of this I am grateful that there are people like yourself though not of  Russian background but by study, traveling there, learning the language and writing poetry on different topics you have enlightened Canadians who by in large have somewhat superficial knowledge of Russia. This poor knowledge is gained by the media, for example, newspapers, TV reports, unfortunately, this information is of a negative kind. Because of this Canadians never will know the true picture of Russia and its people. I would like to give the quotation from Pasternak which expresses the feelings of what is written.

” Poetry will always remain that celebrated peak, higher than all the Alps which lies in the grass at our feet, so that one only has to bend down to see it and pick it up from the ground; it will always remain an organic function of the happiness of men endowed with the blessed gift of rational speech- thus, the more happiness on earth, the easier to be an artist.”                                                                                                                                                                   

Please, contact me, if it is possible through my web site “krutaja babulka.ca”

or through my e-mail address which is shown above.

Sincerely yours, Valentina Filina-Pattison

Marusya Mityayeva sings Anna Achnatova’s poem: ” I am your voice”, with paintings of V.A. Serov

Ottawa, Friday 8/5/09 11h35 EDT

Дорогая Валентина Филина-Паттисон!

Благодарю Вас за трогательное письмо от 6-го мая, в мой адрес.  Всегда я рад читать письма от тех, кто любит поэзию и музыку.  Обе мне дороги.

Как Вы, я глубоко чувствую сходство между нашими странами.  У русских много уроков, нужных для канадцев и западных людей вообще.  Давно я полюбил русскую культуру, музыку, поэзию, искусство.  Далее см.
http://www.pereplet.ru/avtori/woodsword.html

Но, мне кажется, что Вы во многом уже объяли нашу канадскую культуру.
Вы прекрасно пишете по-английски, как носитель.

По названию Вашего сервера (Shaw) понимаю, что Вы находитесь в Британской Колумбии, или вообще на Западе Канады?  Я сам родился в Ванкувере.  Много лет назад я пел тенором в русском хоре там.  Кроме того, в середине провинции проживает очень много духоборцев, которых я несколько лет изучал (как видно с моего сайта).  Чувствую с ними сердечный связь.

Кстати, возможно, Вы познакомились с книгами серии Владимира Мегре “Звенящие кедры России”, которую я перевел на английский?  Превосходные мысли!  Сведения о серии на моей домашней странице.

К сожалению, я нашел, что данная Вами ссылка на Ваш сайт “krutaja babulka” не работает.  Мне кажется, что-то неправильно с промежутком между двумя словами; в адресах сайтов Интернета таких промежутков вообще нет.  Должно быть, там дефис, или точка?

Пользуюсь случаем послать Вам еще три стихотворения, которых пока в Интернете нет.

Первое из них, “Три слова”, я никогда не решил перевести.  На самом деле думаю, что никакого перевода не получится.

Второе стихотворение, “Беседка”, несколько лет можно было читать на сайте “Москва неофициальная”, который, к сожалению, был закрыт примерно год назад.

Но (уже недействующие) ссылки на эту “Беседку” еще можно видеть на разных сайтах, а именно:

Academic.ru — http://dic.academic.ru/dic.nsf/ruwiki/163220
Википедия — http://tinyurl.com/ch8ffc
Wiki-linki.ru — http://wiki-linki.ru/Page/288567

Ещё советую посмотреть:
http://kanadacha.ca/poetry/index.html#egorov
Нажмите там на ссылку “Besedka”, чтоб слушать музыкальный вариант в исполнении певца-композитора И. Егорова.

Третье, “Толстовской музе”, я написал в 2006 г.  Кстати, я именно сейчас работаю над переводом (вместе с носителем русского языка А.А.
Ключанским) автобиографического произведения С.А. Толстой “Моя жизнь” (о ее жизни с великим писателем ЛНТ).  Будет издано в будущем году “University of Ottawa Press” (под ред. проф. А.А. Донскова).

Стихотворение было опубликовано в духоборческим журнале “Искра” в двуязычном формате.

Желаю Вам всего доброго.

Джон Вудсворт
—
(Mr) John Woodsworth
Certified Translator (Russian-English), ATIO Member, Literary Translators’ Association of Canada
http://www.attlc-ltac.org/Woodsworth2.htm
Adm. Assistant & Research Associate,
Slavic Research Group at the University of Ottawa
Website: http://www.kanadacha.ca
E-mail: jw@kanadacha.ca

П.С.  А если будете когда-либо в столице, давайте встретимся!

My interlocutor today is Ivan Semyonovich, a big politics fan and literature admirer and we are talking about   Mark Twain (1835-1910) and Dostoevsky ( 1821-1881), about America and Russia.

I.S. A cosmic Plutarch writing “The Parallel Lives of Great Nations” could not find a more rewarding subject. Perhaps it could be called Mark Twain or Dostoevsky?

V.N. Mark Twain? We read his “Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” which was our favorite classic novel during the student years where he produced one of the wisest meditations on race in all American literature.

I.S. Oh, yes, he was a defender of racial equality, John Stewart, M.L. King, Barack Obama and the rest of America are in his debt. I greet new president of America Obama and pay respect in front of him for his up-to-date innovations in social and political life of the USA.

V.N. Dostoevsky was also a huge contributor in Russian social, political life through the literature. We remember his “Devils”, don’t we? Nechaev’s terrorist network and ugly consequences happened to be later under Communism. The Russians can no more forget the millennia of Mongolian occupation, the tradition of expansion across Europe and Asia, the sacredness of Tsarist autocracy, the identity of State and religion, the traditions of secrecy and police tyranny, of knouting and Siberian exile. As well as the Americans cannot forget the millennia of Magna Charta tradition, of parliaments, Bills of Rights, constitutions, habeas corpus, common-law judges, free land, copious immigration, and a moving frontier.

I.S. I myself suffered a lot because of Stalin’s persecutions, that is why I praise Mark Twain as the creator and protector of human liberty and Dostoevsky for his personal life feat in the name of Russia’s rescue and finding her way.