Monday, March 23, 2015

GALINA SEDOVA’S BULGAKOV. CLXXIX.


Two Adversaries.

The Black Man Continues.

 

…The Black Man stares at me point blank,
And the eyes become covered by blue vomit…

S. A. Yesenin. The Black Man.

 
Sergei Yesenin’s poem The Black Man has a direct connection to A. S. Pushkin. This comes out clearly from his poem To Pushkin, where Yesenin rather enigmatically addresses Pushkin in the following manner:

Blondish, almost whitish,
Becoming like fog in legends,
Oh, Alexander, you were a rogue,
Like today I am a hooligan.

Like no other poet, Yesenin honestly admits:

And I am standing like before Eucharist,
And telling you in response,
That I would die right now of joy,
Were I honored by such a fate.

Both poems were written around the same time: To Pushkin in 1924, and The Black Man in 1923-1925.

It goes without saying that Yesenin knew that Pushkin was by no means “blondish,” and by no means “whitish,” as he had strong African blood running in his veins. It is equally obvious that Yesenin had seen numerous portraits of Pushkin. And it is this striking contrast which indicates that in both these poems there are two persons participating: Yesenin and Pushkin.

In his short autobiography Yesenin writes that he “started with Lermontov, and then moved to Pushkin.

Yesenin’s Pugachev shows that he read not only Pushkin’s poetry, but all of his writings, and he not only read them, but studied the great Russian writer.

Yesenin was self-taught in the best sense of this word. His school was “reading books” of the greats who lived before him.---

And often in the evening’s dusk
I pray to the smoking earth
About those faraway and never to return.

The proof that Yesenin was self-taught is contained in his autobiography which he wrote in 1924:

“I am ready to give preference to our gray skies and our landscapes… a wooden hut somewhat grown into the ground... a scrawny horse. These are not skyscrapers, but these are those same things that nurtured our Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, Pushkin, Lermontov, and others.”

By the way, Bulgakov took the conversation of Sashka Ryukhin with Pushkin’s monument in Master and Margarita from Yesenin’s poem To Pushkin, which is very important for the understanding of his Black Man, and also of the life itself of this amazing poet of the countryside, as well as of his death. [About which in the chapter The Bard.]

The poem starts with the words:

Dreaming of the mighty gift
Of the one who became the Russian Destiny,
I am standing on Tverskoy Boulevard,
Standing and talking to myself…

Hence the meeting of master and Margarita on Tverskaya Street, which yet again proves that Bulgakov chose Sergei Yesenin as the prototype of the “author” of Master and Margarita, in so far as Ivan Ponyrev, alias Ivan Bezdomny, loves to talk to himself.

***

If in Master and Margarita Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin is present so to speak incognito, in the character of Koroviev, there can be no doubt that Pushkin’s spirit pervades Yesenin’s Black Man.

Discussing what it means to be a genius, in his short play in verse Mozart and Saglieri, A. S. Pushkin subscribes to the theory that Mozart was poisoned by Saglieri out of extreme envy for his genius.

In the play, Mozart complains about the mysterious man dressed all in black, who happened to commission a Requiem from him:

Day and night, he’s giving me no respite,
My black man. Like a shadow,
He chases me around, likewise now,
It seems to me that he is sitting with us…

Despite its familiar subject, Mozart and Saglieri is an original work of A. S. Pushkin, as he has many works both enigmatic and mysterious, in which his characters often find themselves on the other side of being. I have already demonstrated this, using Pushkin’s another priceless work, The Bronze Horseman [see my chapter The Triangle, segment CLIX].

In the last year of his life, 1925, many poems of Yesenin predict his imminent death.---

…And the birches all in white
Are weeping in the forests.
Who has perished here? Who has died?
Hasn’t it really been me?

And here is one more, utterly painful, quiet verse, as though summing things up:

Farewell, my friend, farewell…
Do not grieve and do not sadden your eyebrows,---
In this life, dying is not something new,
But living a life is surely nothing more novel.

There can be no doubt that Sergei Yesenin’s Black Man was conceived and written by its author as his own Requiem.

To be continued…

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