Who is Who in Master?
Posting #19.
“–So, what
about my poems?..
–I dislike
them terribly.
–And which of
them have you read?
– I’ve read
none of them…”
M. Bulgakov. Master
and Margarita.
Considering
that the novel Master and Margarita starts
with the poet Ivan Bezdomny already on the first page of the first chapter, and
ends with him in the Epilogue, I have
decided to end my chapter Who’s Who in
Master with him as well. However in the Epilogue,
on the last pages of the novel, the reader is no longer dealing with the poet
Ivan Bezdomny, but with a bona fide historian. He is a Fellow at the Institute
of History and Philosophy Professor Ivan Nikolayevich Ponyrev. How he managed
to become a historian will become clear to the researcher from this posting.
Connected
with Ivan Bezdomny is yet another conversation of master. Bulgakov writes:
“The guest enquired: Occupation?
–Poet, – for some reason reluctantly confessed
Ivan.
The visitor was saddened. – Oh, how unlucky am I! – he exclaimed. Having learned that Ivan’s
last name was Bezdomny, the guest said, frowning: Eh ,eh…”
It
is becoming quite clear to the researcher here that in master we are dealing
with A. A. Blok. As for Ivan Bezdomny, the sly Bulgakov is trying to pass him
off as Andrei Bely, aka Boris Bugaev. Ivan asks:
“–So, what about my
poems? You don’t like them?
–I dislike them
terribly.
–And which of them have
you read?
– I’ve read none of
them! – nervously exclaimed the visitor…
–And how come you say
what you say?..
–As if I haven’t read
other such stuff?.. However, if by a miracle? [The Russian word is ‘chudo’.
This will be crucial in connection with Ivan’s reply below.] All right, I am willing to trust you. You
tell me yourself: are they any good?”
Ivan
Bezdomny’s [Bulgakov’s] answer is stunning:
“Monstrous! – suddenly
bravely and frankly said Ivan. [The Russian word in this case is ‘chudovischno’.
See the connection above.]”
Considering
that I have already stated that Ivan’s guest in this excerpt is the Russian
poet Alexander Blok, I am going to produce evidence of that. As always, I am
addressing myself to the poet’s poetry.
In
the 6th and last cycle of Verses
About a Fair Lady, Blok writes:
“He
was greeted everywhere
In the streets on sleepy
days.
He was walking and carrying
his miracle,
Stumbling in the frosty
shade.”
As
for discourses on poems and poets, Blok has a very interesting poem in that
respect. In order to appreciate it in full measure, the researcher needs to
reread Blok’s poem The Night Violet.
The
title of this poem is Poets. It
belongs to the period between 1908 and 1916. –
“Outside
the city, there rose a deserted quarter
On a soil marshy and
unsteady…”
The
“night violet” grows outside the city on a marsh.
“…Poets
lived there, and each greeted another
With a conceited smile…”
In
his long poem The Night Violet, Blok
shows A. S. Pushkin with a “troop” of Russian poets sitting on benches inside a
hut. When Blok enters this Russian hut, he recognizes many of those seated
there. They are all dead and he knows them from their legacy: verses and prose.
In
the poem Poets, Blok shows his
contemporary time:
“…To
no purpose was the radiant day rising
Over this sorrowful marsh
[sic!]:
Its dweller was devoting his
day
To wine and diligent work.
When drunk, they were
swearing to friendship,
Their chatter was cynical and
spicy’
As the morning came they were
vomiting,
Then behind closed doors
They were working stupidly
and zealously.
Then they crawled out of
their kennels like dogs…”
If
Marina Tsvetaeva compares poets to cats, ostensibly following Kipling with his
tale about the cat who walked by himself, in reality she also takes this idea
from Pushkin from his Dedication to
the charming fairytale in verse Ruslan
and Lyudmila:
“There’s
a green oak by the Lukomorye,
A golden chain is on that
oak.
Both day and night, a learned
cat
Walks all around along that
chain.
When right he walks, a song
he’s singing;
When left, a fairytale he
tells…”
Marina
Tsvetaeva has indeed walked her “own way” in poetry.
“[Their] Own Ways… What enthralls me in this
title are both words equally, and the formula arising from them. What can a
poet call his own, except his own way? What can he and would he want to call
his own, except his way? Everything else is alien: yours, theirs, but my way is
mine. The way is the only property of the wayless…”
According
to Blok, poets in his time:
“…They
were crawling out of their kennels like dogs,
Looking on, as the sea was
burning…
Relaxed, they were dreaming
of the Golden Age
[That is, of A. S. Pushkin
and M. Yu. Lermontov],
Scolding the publishers in
unison,
And wept over a small flower,
Over a small pearly cloud…”
In
the last two lines of Blok’s poem Poets,
the poet managed to use three poems of the poet of the Golden Age M. Yu.
Lermontov. Blok’s “small flower”
comes from Lermontov’s fairytale poem Forget-Me-Not.
In it, the poet writes about a heartless beauty who asks a “noble knight” in
love with her to pluck for her a “blue flower growing on a marsh.” Lermontov
writes:
“…My
knight jumped up, in admiration
Of the beauty of her soul;
Leaping over the rivulet, he
flies
Like an arrow to pluck the precious
flower
With a hurried hand…”
Bogged
down in the marsh, the knight manages not only to pluck the lethal flower, but
also to throw it to the “gentle maiden” just before he drowns.
“...Ever
since then, it’s dear to love,
It’s called ‘forget-me-not’…”
Poets
had much to cry about!
To
be continued…
***
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