Monday, December 18, 2017

GALINA SEDOVA. A CHAPTER ON BULGAKOV. DIX



Who is Who in Master?
Posting #15.


Like a wolf under a waning moon,
I don’t know what to do with myself,
Where to fly after you!
Overcome by a mighty anguish,
I am prowling on a white horse…

Alexander Blok. On the Kulikovo Field.


The idea of “anguish” belongs to the Russian poet of the Silver Age Alexander Blok who uses this word several times in the course of two pages of his long poem Retribution.

“...And the heart is squeezed in a hurry
By an inexpressible anguish,
As though a heavy hand
Has pushed him to the ground and pressed him down…
And he is no longer walking alone,
But as though together with someone new…

Here you have the celebrated Russian mysticism in all its glory. So, who is this “someone new” who joins the hero of the poem? Blok explains:

“...(And by his side – a friend or rival –
Walks anguish)...”

The word “anguish” belongs to Blok, as even before his long poem Retribution he made an extensive use of this word in his poetry. Already in the poetry collection Frightful World (1909-1916), in the poem The Life of My Friend, Blok writes:

...And you’d have liked to fall asleep,
But –  O, dreadful minute! –
And quiet anguish will squeeze your throat so tenderly:
No way to gasp, no way to breathe,
As though the night has spread its curse over everything,
The devil himself sat down upon your chest!

This is how Blok himself explains it:

...Among all other thoughts –
The senselessness of all deeds,
The joylessness of comfort
Will come to your mind.

It is at that point that anguish comes to man, when he realizes the hopelessness of his position, when he loses hope and stops believing in his Destiny. A dreadful time sets in. That’s why it is so important to believe in yourself.
In the same Blokian poetry collection I find the following lines in one of his titleless poems:

Oh anguish! In a thousand years from now
We shan’t be able to measure the soul.

[See my chapter Strangers in the Night.]

In the poetry collection Motherland (1907-1916) in the poem On the Kulikovo Field Blok writes:

Our way is of the steppe,
Our way is in boundless anguish
In your anguish, O Rus!

In the same poem Blok keeps pursuing the theme of anguish:

...Again with an age-long anguish
The grasses have leaned to the ground.
Again beyond the foggy river
You are calling for me from afar…
And I with an age-long anguish,
Like a wolf under a waning moon,
I don’t know what to do with myself,
Where to fly after you!
Overcome by a mighty anguish,
I am prowling on a white horse…

Blok’s anguish is in his encounter with his motherland, with everything Russian. His heart is torn apart by this love for his country.

In this connection, how can we fail to wonder at Bulgakov’s own mastery? It is impossible not to envy his ingenuity, with a wholesome honest envy! Bulgakov may well be used as a good textbook. Why indeed can’t we get ideas for books from poetry?
As I already wrote before, Bulgakov very successfully turned upside down the words of A. S. Pushkin:

What are you, prosaic, fussing about?
Give me a thought whatever you like:
I’ll sharpen it at the end,
I’ll feather it with a flying rhyme,
I’ll put it on a tight bowstring,
I’ll make an arc of my supple bow,
And then I’ll send it wherever it flies,
To the detriment of our foe!

In other words, following Pushkin’s “advice,” Bulgakov took his ideas from poetry, while endowing his literary characters with various traits of the poets themselves. Genius!
As for “immortality” – here again is the earlier quoted passage from Bulgakov’s Pontius Pilate:

“...The same inexplicable anguish that had already visited him on the balcony had now pierced all his being. It seemed to the procurator that he had left something unsaid with the condemned man, and, perhaps, even something unlistened to. Pilate chased this thought away and it flew away instantly, like it had flown in to him. It flew away, but the anguish remained unexplained, for it could not be explained by some kind of another short thought that flashed like lightning and went out right away: ‘Immortality, Immortality has come, immortality…’ Whose immortality has come? This is what the procurator didn’t understand, but the thought of this mysterious immortality made him freeze under the hot sun.”

The word “immortality” comes up five times in this fairly short passage. Bulgakov bestows immortality on all three poets here: A. A. Blok, N. S. Gumilev, and also V. Ya. Bryusov. Three years after the deaths of Blok and Gumilev, the “poetry vermin,” as Marina Tsvetaeva called the scum of the Russian literary and paraliterary world, brought Bryusov into his grave as well (1924).
Bulgakov shows this in a very interesting fashion: “This mysterious immortality made him [Pontius Pilate – Bryusov] freeze under the hot sun.” This is Bryusov’s own immortality.
The researcher will understand this “immortality” of Bryusov when the time comes for it.
Bulgakov also bestows immortality on himself, which makes it a fourth “immortality.” He clearly shows here that he was hoping to be solved. It’s a pity that the wait was too long.

What remains to be done with the passage above is to address the words “flashed like lightning and went out right away.
This is a very interesting literary device, which Bulgakov has actually taken from N. S. Gumilev’s article about the Russian poet Konstantin Dmitrievich Balmont and the “flashing images.” (See my chapter The Garden: Aphranius.)

To be continued…

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