Saturday, February 10, 2018

GALINA SEDOVA. A CHAPTER ON BULGAKOV. DLXXIII



The Bard.
Barbarian at the Gate.
Professor Kuzmin.
Posting #17.


...Dried up and empty...
Remain forever mute...

A. S. Pushkin. To My Inkwell.


The most challenging scene for me happened to be the scene with the inkwell in the 18th chapter of Master and Margarita: The Hapless Visitors. Bulgakov writes:

“Meantime, the sparrow seated itself on the gifted inkwell and took a dump in it. (I am not joking!) Then it flew up and hung in the air…”

Working on the present chapter The Bard, I continued looking through and rereading A. S. Pushkin’s poems, where I practically stumbled upon his 1821 poem To My Inkwell. (I am not joking!)
Bulgakov uses an inkwell both in Master and Margarita and in The Theatrical Novel – already in the 2nd chapter: A Fit of Neurasthenia. (See my chapter A Dress Rehearsal for Master and Margarita.)
A 22-year-old Pushkin begins his poem with these words:

Friend of an idle thought,
My inkwell…
In moments of inspiration
I had my recourse to you,
And called upon my Muse
To a feast of imagination.
My treasures
Are hiding at your bottom…

Pushkin is grateful to his inkwell:

“…The quill wanders around the book,
Finding without any trouble
Endings for my verses
And an assuredness of expression…

Telling how he writes his verses with the help of the inkwell, Pushkin has a request for it:

…Times of cold boredom,
Emptiness of the heart,
The gloom of separation,
The ever-present reveries,
My hopes and feelings,
Without flattery and artless,
Do pass them on to paper…

M. Bulgakov borrows Pushkin’s inkwell, as the poet wishes the inkwell to remind others of him, after his death:

…And when the bank of Hades
Will take me away forever…

[Pushkin uses the Russian word “Ad.” That’s where the monogrammed “ADAbrau-Dyurso labels come from, in Bulgakov.]

…When my quill, my joy,
Will go to sleep forever,
And you [inkwell] will cool down,
Orphaned, in an empty corner,
And will forever leave
The poet’s quiet home…

Pushkin expects his dear friend Chadayev to pick up the inkwell after its owner’s death:

...Dried up and empty,
Between two of his paintings,
Remain forever mute [sic!],
An adornment to his fireplace...

Pushkin does not wish to be forgotten, and the last words of his poem To My Inkwell speak about that:

Do not attract the eyes
Of the demanding society,
But remind his friends
Of the true poet.

And that’s what Bulgakov does: he reminds. Everything is simple in the Theatrical Novel:

“In that dream I was struck by my loneliness, I felt pity for myself. And I woke up in tears. I switched on the light, the dusty light bulb hanging over the table. It cast light on my poverty: a cheap inkwell, a handful of books, a stack of old newspapers...”

But in Master and Margarita Bulgakov writes: “a gifted inkwell.” Immediately the question arises: Gifted by whom? The interpretation here is also very simple, and it proves again that we are dealing with Professor Kuzmin’s prototype, namely with V. Ya. Bryusov. Pushkin does not present Bryusov with his inkwell but bequeaths to Chadayev, who is expected to adorn his fireplace with it. –

...Dried up and empty,
Between two of his paintings,
Remain forever mute [sic!]...

Pushkin’s disposition notwithstanding, Bryusov decided to “finish” Pushkin’s presumably “unfinished” works. In particular, he “completed” Pushkin’s Egyptian Nights, to which Marina Tsvetaeva reacts with indignation in her memoirs of Bryusov:

“…Alien by all his nature to mystery, he does not honor it, and does not sense it [the mystery] within the unfinished state of a creation. Pushkin did not have a chance to do it, so I [Bryusov] will bring it to completion. A barbarian’s gesture. For, in some cases to ‘complete’ is no less, but maybe even more barbarity than to destroy.”

Quite justifiably, Marina Tsvetaeva uses the word “mystery” here, which supports my idea in the narrower sense of the word, as in his Egyptian Nights Pushkin portrays himself both in the character of Charsky and in the character of the Italian improvisator. This is already a split-in-two, which Bulgakov’s sharp eye must have caught at once. If we now take the last (second) poem of Pushkin’s story, it also becomes clear that the poet portrays himself in the character of the third claimant to Cleopatra’s bed, the youth who buys one of the three nights at the price of his life. Thus it also becomes clear that Pushkin is averse to depicting the “mystery” of that night.

To be continued…

***



No comments:

Post a Comment