Alpha And Omega.
Posting #7.
“…The lips that have
never kissed anyone,
And never talked to anyone,
either…”
N. S. Gumilev. Gardens
of the Soul
N.
S. Gumilev has a poem titled Gardens of
the Soul, included in the poetry collection Romantic Flowers, where the poet writes:
“The
gardens of my soul are always fancy-patterned...
The plants in them are uncommon
like dreams…
And who will understand the
hint of an ancient mystery?
There is a maiden in them in
the wreath of a great priestess…”
And
then Gumilev gives us a portrait of this maiden:
“...The
eyes are like the glint of pure gray steel,
The brow is exquisite, whiter
than the lilies of the Orient,
The lips that have never
kissed anyone,
And never talked to anyone,
either…”
In
the character of Yulia Alexandrovna Reise, Bulgakov portrays a sinful woman,
like Margarita, yet capable of strong feelings, capable of sacrificing her life
in the name of a lofty ideal. In Yulia Reise’s case, it is the cockade on the
papakha hat, telling her that the running man is an officer of the Russian
army. In Margarita’s case it is the novel Pontius
Pilate which caught her interest in master and gave a meaning to her
otherwise empty life.
In
other words, Bulgakov depicts an earthly woman, whereas Gumilev is showing a
mystery with a great priestess in it, with two black panthers guarding her in a
mysterious cave, which in Bulgakov changes into the mysterious little house of
Nashchokin, which A. S. Pushkin is describing in his letters to his wife
Natalia Goncharova.
Gumilev’s
poem closes with “gardens”:
“...I
am not looking at the world of running lines,
My dreams are only obedient
to the eternal.
Let the sirocco unleash its
fury in the desert.
The gardens of my soul are
always fancy-patterned”.
These
“fancy-patterned gardens” of Gumilev turn into Bulgakov’s “snowy pattern of
trees in the garden.”
What
remains is another, by no means easy dual puzzle, which Bulgakov loves so much,
namely on these 9 pages of the 13th chapter from Bulgakov’s first
novel:
“Standing on her knees, the woman bandaged the wounded arm. Then
she brought a pillow and a long sweet-smelling Japanese robe with fancy
bouquets patterned on it.”
The
first thing that came to my mind was the novel of Bulgakov’s contemporary, poet
and writer Andrei Bely: Peterburg.
But I am starting not with this novel, but with N. S. Gumilev’s poem I believed, I thought, which A. A. Blok
liked so much:
“...And
then I dreamt that my heart was no longer aching,
That it was a porcelain bell
in yellow China,
Hanging on a multi-colored
pagoda and invitingly jingling...”
And
here it comes:
“...And
a meek maiden in a dress of red silks,
Embroidered with wasps,
flowers, and dragons,
With her feet drawn, gazes
thoughtlessly and dreamlessly,
Attentively listening to the
light-light ringing.”
This
poem comes out of the second part of N. Gumilev’s poetry collection Alien Sky, like another poem She, which I am analyzing here.
Although
Bulgakov clearly says “Japanese robe,” I feel it necessary to bring in this
poem because it got the attention of Gumilev’s contemporary Blok [see my
chapter Strangers in the Night], as
the maiden in Gumilev’s poem is a little porcelain doll sitting on a bell.
Considering
that the second part of Alien Sky is
dedicated to Gumilev’s first wife the poetess Anna Akhmatova. Gumilev’s heart
is aching because of his split with Akhmatova, which means that only one
interpretation is possible: Gumilev’s heart is indeed a porcelain bell, with a
little porcelain doll sitting on top of it.
A.
Blok had a good reason for welcoming Gumilev’s poem. By that time his friend
Andrei Bely’s novel Peterburg had
been published, in which Bely portrays Blok’s wife as a “real Japanese”:
“Sofia Petrovna Likhutina hung her walls with Japanese landscapes
showing views of the Mount Fujiyama, and with fresh Japanese chrysanthemums.”
Also
Sofia Petrovna is wearing “a pink kimono.” Andrei Bely lodges his heroine in “a
small flat with Japanese fans on the walls.”
In
a certain way, Bulgakov portrays Yulia Alexandrovna Reise as Sofia Petrovna
Likhutina, albeit a more intelligent one. Describing his heroine’s eyes, Bely
calls them “huge eyes of dark, blue,
dark-blue color.”
Although
Bulgakov gives Yulia Alexandrovna Reise “black eyes,” he gives another woman,
Niza in Pontius Pilate / Master and Margarita, dark-blue eyes.
Reminding the reader, Margarita and Niza have the same prototype, which is the
Russian poetess Marina Tsvetaeva.
In
chapter 26 The Burial Bulgakov
writes:
“His [Judas’s] thoughts clouded, he forgot everything else in the
world and was looking with pleading eyes into the light-blue, now seeming black
eyes of Niza.”
There
is another similarity between Niza and Yulia Alexandrovna Reise:
“Ah no, no! – replied
Niza, capriciously putting out her lower lip…”
And
in chapter 13 of White Guard Bulgakov
writes about Yulia Alexandrovna Reise:
“Putting out her lips in childish sadness, she was looking into the
window.”
And
so, “the long, sweet-smelling of old times, Japanese robe with fancy bouquets”
probably relates best to the Russian poet and writer Andrei Bely, on account of
his novel Peterburg, because of the
word “Japanese.” And also it points to the sentence with which Bulgakov closes
chapter 13 of White Guard:
“In the morning, around nine o’clock, a chance cabby picked up two
passengers – a man in black civilian clothes, very pale, and a woman. The woman
was carefully supporting the man, who was clutching her sleeve. She was taking
him to Alexeevsky Descent. There was no traffic on the Descent. Except that at
the entrance #13 there stood a cabby who had just delivered a strange guest
with a suitcase, a bundle, and a cage…”
To
be continued…
***
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