Friday, February 23, 2018

GALINA SEDOVA. A CHAPTER ON BULGAKOV. DXCI




The Bard.
Berlioz Is Dead.
Kuzmin Is In Leeches.
Long Live Bosoy!
Posting #16.


…I do not have the skill of idle singing,
High-pitched, refined, and cunning...

A. S. Pushkin. To Prince Gorchakov.


I like Andrei Bely’s poems. They are unusual and they capture the reader’s attention. The poem The First Date alone must appeal to every Muscovite. Written after the  style of Pushkin’s Eugene Onegin, it tickles the reader’s memories.
Perhaps it is this poem which Bulgakov calls a “necklace worth $40,000 in gold,” which is kept alongside the sum of $18,000US by Dunchil’s Kharkov mistress Ida Gerkulanovna Vors. Before that time – the “unknown woman” always remaining beautiful. (That’s where Bely enters the picture as the friend and lover of that same “unknown woman.”) Thus, Bulgakov in the Dream of Nikanor Ivanovich is playing upon the love triangle of Blok and Bely with Blok’s wife. (This triangle is depicted in Andrei Bely’s novel Peterburg.)
But this well-known triangle has nothing on another one. Nikanor Ivanovich Bosoy has his prototype in the Russian poet V. Ya. Bryusov who described his own love triangle with Nina Petrovskaya (wife of a prominent publisher), sharing her with his friend Andrei Bely, and depicting this triangular relationship in his famous novel The Fiery Angel.
The reader may take his pick, but I am surely leaning toward the second triangle of Bryusov-Petrovskaya-Bely.
From the very beginning, I was interested the most in the two bearded men sitting on the parquet “floor, splendidly polished and slippery.” Bulgakov depicts only two members of the audience between whom N. I. Bosoy squeezes himself:

“...Feeling shy in the new large company, Nikanor Ivanovich, having hesitated for a while, followed the general example and sat down on the parquet Turkish-style, squeezing himself between a reddish-haired bearded strongman and another, profusely hairy citizen...”

The reader meets both Bosoy’s neighbors near the end of his dream.

In the women’s theater, some damsel is ceding [her valuables] – suddenly spoke the red-haired bearded neighbor of Nikanor Ivanovich, and added with a sigh: Eh, if only I didn’t have my geese! My good man, I have fighting geese in Lianozovo. I am afraid they’ll all die without me. Combat fowl they are, they need tender care. Eh, had it not been for my geese, no Pushkin would have swayed me… – And he started sighing again.”

Here we can fittingly quote A. S. Pushkin’s words again, from his letter to his wife of October 21, 1833. From Boldino to St. Petersburg. –

And how about Sashka the read-head? Who’s he taking after, being so red, I wonder? I never expected it from him.

(Boldino was Pushkin’s family estate in the vicinity of Nizhny Novgorod, currently, a Pushkin museum complex. In Master and Margarita we have the dacha settlement of Lianozovo, currently within the city limits of Moscow.)

As for the geese, we have them – sort of – in Pushkin’s letter:

“Can you imagine? I have received a letter from Sobolevsky who needs money for pâtés de foie gras and in order to get it is launching an almanac. And it’s all you who are to blame!”

Apparently, Natalia Goncharova when she was talking to Sobolevsky before, promised him her husband’s help with the almanac, as Pushkin is furious:

“Do you [Natalia] realize how much his requests for verses (I am just saying requests, but those were demands of work on assignment [sic!]) – angered me?!”

That’s why Bulgakov himself refused to write serious works on assignment. He was with Pushkin on this!
Pushkin calls this kind of potboilery “pâtés de foie gras.” Bulgakov turns pâté into “fighting geese.” What a change!
It is impossible not to remember in this connection Pushkin’s 1814 poem To Prince A. M. Gorchakov. It is written practically along the same lines as the 1833 letter to Natalia Goncharova.

“Without an acquaintance with Apollo,
Let the poet and court philosopher
Present a 200-stanza ode
With obeisance to a pedigreed grandee…”

This verse, as the reader may well have figured out, is uncannily topical. What Blok calls the Crossroads. But the young Pushkin had no “crossroads” either. From childhood, he knew that he would never write on assignment. He would only be writing what he wanted to write.

...But I, my dear Gorchakov,
I am not rising with the cockerels,
And with well-polished verses,
With a barrage of thunderous words,
I do not have the skill of idle singing [sic!],
High-pitched, refined, and cunning...

This is where Alexander Blok, a most ardent admirer of Pushkin, has such an attachment to the word “refined” from...
And here it comes! –

...And I don’t dare to turn into a lyre
My goose quill!..
No, no, my dear Prince, it’s not an ode
That I intend to dedicate to you…

Further on, it becomes clear that Pushkin is not going to compare Prince Gorchakov to Peter the Great. That would have been an ode... Knowing the Prince’s lascivious nature, Pushkin wishes him to be “a gentle fosterling of Epicurus,” spending his life “between Bacchus and Amur.
Pushkin saves his “goose quill” for his “fighting geese,” which is the name Bulgakov gives to Pushkin’s poems To the Slanderers of Russia, Anniversary of Borodino, Shield of Oleg, Prophet, To Chaadayev – to name just a few.

To be continued…

***



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