The Bard.
Blok’s The Twelve.
Posting #7.
“…She
confuses, and streams, and crawls,
Slips
out of hands, hisses, threatens, and stings.
A
snake! A snake! – That’s why I was shaking.
She
nearly caused my ruin…”
A. S. Pushkin. Boris Godunov.
I have already written in my “Blokian woman” how
surprised I was at Blok’s comparison of this woman to a snake. And only having
started writing my chapter The Bard and
rereading Pushkin, had I understood how much Blok was interested in Pushkin’s
poetry, and not as a blind follower, which would have been impossible not just
because of their different characters, but considering their psychological
makeup and their respective profiles.
Pushkin was a passionate man in life and passionate in
his poetry. Blok was passionate in his poetry, but quite opposite in life,
being all engrossed in himself and supremely comfortable in his loneliness. He
was a thoughtful, studious, reserved, and dignified student of Pushkin.
These qualities of his would never have allowed Blok
to become a plagiarizer, and his studious contemplation over Pushkin’s poetry
increased his penchant for deep mysticism, a mystic in his own right and for
eternity. Today, in our twenty-first century, Blok remains avant-garde in both
his thought and his execution.
The image of a mysterious woman-snake came to Blok
from a dark period of Russian history, which I had already written a lot about,
most recently in my chapter A Swallow’s
Nest of Luminaries. I am referring to Russia’s “Time of Troubles” during the end of the 16th century and
early 17th century, and Pushkin’s monumental work Boris Godunov, belonging to that period.
In the scene at the fountain, having confessed to
Marina Mnishek that he is a royal impostor, Grishka Otrepyev tries to explain
to her that she is the only one admitted into the secret. Having been turned
down by Mnishek, the impostor proudly reminds her that –
“The
shadow of Grozny has adopted me as son,
Naming
me Dmitry from the coffin…”
Not only do these words impress Marina, but they have
a profound effect on False Dmitry himself, who reassures her that everybody
will believe him, a “Russian prince,” and not some “Polish broad.” An impression
is created that he already regrets having become involved with Marina Mnishek.
And perhaps remembering the words of the monk Pimen about “a woman’s sly
[lukavaya!] love,” Grishka Otrepyev bursts with the following tirade:
“No –
it’s easier for me to fight with Godunov,
Or
to be cunning with the Court Jesuit,
Than
with a woman – devil take them, I’ve had enough!”
And what we have next here are Pushkin’s words turned
by Blok into a mystical illusion. –
“…She
confuses, and streams, and crawls,
Slips
out of hands, hisses, threatens, and stings.
A
snake! A snake! – That’s why I was shaking.
She
nearly caused my ruin.
But
it’s all set: tomorrow I advance the troops.”
Not only do these words of False Dmitry connect Blok’s
poems and his Retribution with A. S.
Pushkin’s Boris Godunov and explain
where Blok’s idea of the snake-woman comes from, but they also explain why it
suits him so well. –
“Farewell
forever,” the impostor tells Marina. “The
game of bloody war, the vast travails of my Destiny, I hope will blunt love’s
anguish [sic!].”
This is the kind of anguish Blok has in mind in his Retribution:
“Like
a woman, from behind the corner,
There
somebody is obsequiously crawling…
There,
she has wormed her way and crawled up”
And
the heart is squeezed in a hurry
By
an inexpressible anguish [sic!]…”
Amid a “sick and lecherous crowd,” Blok fantasizes in
his grief about true love which is missing from his life. How can we fail to
remember here a line from another poem of his, where Blok laments:
“Oh,
caresses of unpurchased maidens!..”
Thus everything becomes clear. Blok is haunted by the
“anguish of love,” which he so much loves to express, but only in his poetry.
“…And
he is no longer walking alone,
But as though together with
someone new…
Now quickly under hill is
leading
His Krakow suburb.
There’s Vistula, a hell of
snowy blizzard.
Searching for shelter behind
the houses,
His teeth chattering from
cold,
He turned back again…
Again, over a sphere,
Copernicus
Is deep in thought under the
snow…
(And by his side – either a
friend or a rival –
Anguish is walking…)”
Grieving over the death of his father, the worst thing
Blok grieves about is that he never loved his father, and his father never
loved him. Hence, the feeling of anguish increases:
“Now
there is no one there to help!
Now
he is in the very heart of night!
Oh,
black is your gaze, night’s darkness,
And
the flaming heart is mute…
But
in my hero’s thoughts
Reigns
almost incoherent raving…”
There is therefore a good reason why Blok call’s his
hero’s anguish “either a friend or a
rival.” The ending of the poem depends on this.
“He’s
walking…(A trail is forming in the snow
Of one, but there were two of
them…)
Some kind of vague ringing in
the ears…”
To be continued…
***
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