Margarita Beyond Good And Evil.
From Blok to
Bely.
“...And
something frightful opened to me
All
of a sudden.
I understood
that the circle had closed
And
the heart was beating, beating, beating…”
Andrei Bely. 1903.
In
response to the poem To Blok by
Andrei Bely, his friend Blok makes an even more passionate outburst in his
October 1903 poem To Andrei Bely:
“I
was running and stumbling,
Bleeding, hitting myself
against the cliffs,
Then I was raising myself,
Praying again as I was
running…
I imagined you – dying,
Bleeding to death like I was.
Is it possible that you too
are receding?
Is it possible that I am left
alone?
Or maybe you are testing me,
flickering,
Like the red kerchief in the
field?
Oh, I saw it, the wretched,
I saw the red kerchief of the
fields…”
Isn’t
it true that there is so much harmony between these two poems, Bely’s and
Blok’s? So much harmony that one can imagine that the first one was also
written by Blok. But it is not so! How amazingly had one friend felt the pain
and mental anguish of the other!
Another
example is presented to us by Andrei Bely’s 1903 poem dedicated to E. K.
Medtner, titled An Ancient Friend.
For understandable reasons, Blok responded to this poem much later – in his
1908-1913 poetry cycle Retribution.
How
does everything change! But the fact itself that the two Russian poets could
experience such a closeness of feeling – is pure mysticism!
Andrei
Bely writes:
“My
ancient friend, I was returning to you,
White-haired after age-long
wanderings.
You were walking towards me…
You said:
What if the gnome of the
grave will return
From the darkness of the
years, to separate us?
And I responded: grim and
powerless,
He has fallen asleep for ages
– never to awaken…”
Although
this poem is dedicated to Emil Medtner, there is a feeling about it as though
it has been written for Blok’s eyes only.
“…I
recognize you, my ancient friend!
Even though a long series of
centuries lies between us,
My soul has so much childlike
faith.
The grim gnome all dressed in
fire at the entrance
Is squinting at you, in
powerless malice…”
(Curiously,
I also believe that the devil is very small, and that he has three heads…)
“…We
are standing here smiling at each other,
We are disturbed by that same
soft call…
Oh friend, be silent, do not
talk to me!..”
What
is going on here? Perhaps, this is about the adulterous triangular liaison of
Andrei Bely with Blok’s wife?
“…I
remembered again the unbreakable law,
Washed by an ethereal-blue
wave…”
A.
Blok’s wife Lyubov Dmitriyevna Mendeleeva promised her husband never to see
Andrei Bely again. But Bely must have been persistent.
“…Old
dreams! Aimlessly,
I am waiting for some kind of
rendezvous…
The gnome of the grave,
bending at the entrance,
Was dozing off, stiffened, in
mortal boredom.
Oh, where are you that
ancient freedom of yore?
I burst into tears, rending
my arms,
And a sadly-endearing whisper
came forth:
Your ancient friend will come
to you from the coffin,
Raising his suddenly flaming
face to the sun…”
Isn’t
Andrei Bely’s mysticism truly eerie?
“…Eternity
was aging, the times were coming to pass,
And softly were the riverbeds
of death drying up…
I was lying in a coffin,
dressed in a white shroud,
The coffin opened up and the
bracket screamed;
Smiling at me, was,
sorrowfully numb,
My ancient friend, leaning
over the coffin…”
Andrei
Bely closes his poem on the note of immortality:
“...The
sky was gleaming with golden brocade,
The ethereality was rushing
in its ever-drunken fabric,
And Jesus Christ was like a
timeless candle,
Standing in the distance in His
snowy-linen garment.”
The
reader will be certainly interested to compare this ending with a previous
stanza in the same poem:
“...The
ethereality was rushing in its ever-drunken fabric,
And Jesus Christ was like a
timeless candle
Standing alone in his garment
of linen,
Wrapped in golden brocade…”
Even
if this poem was written for Alexander Blok’s benefit, Andrei Bely would have
to wait for a very long time for a response, this time. Still, there was a
response! Which came in the form of Blok’s titleless poem in the poetry cycle Retribution. –
“You
are sitting in the room alone.
Can you hear?
I know: you are not sleeping
now…
You are breathing and not
breathing.
Why was the light behind the
door extinguished?
Don’t be afraid!
I am your long-forgotten
hour,
I am knocking – open up!”
The
poem’s opening lines reveal to us that Blok had taken Andrei Bely’s poem
dedicated to E. K. Medtner on his own account.
“...I
know that you are now in delirium,
Rebellious!
But still I will come into
your room,
Your ancient friend, and
gentle.
Don’t be afraid to remember
me:
You were so young –
You mounted a white stallion…
Simpleton, did you then know
Your pauper’s way back?”
I
can virtually visualize Alexander Blok as the learned cat hanging around – back
and forth – Andrei Bely’s door. Now he is consoling his “ancient friend,” now
he is threatening him.
“…You
are wise now, do not argue!
What’s the point in
arguing?..
Why are you hanging you face
So low?
Be consoled: the wind behind
the window
Signifies the trumpets of a
nearing death…”
And
reminding Andrei Bely of his dishonorable behavior, Blok closes his poem with
these lines:
“…Open
up and answer my question:
Was your day bright?
I brought you a regal shroud
As my gift to you!”
To
be continued…
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