Guests at
Satan’s Great Ball.
(The
20-Year-Old Lad Matures.)
Posting #24.
“Years
flowed after years,
And
the blind stupid me
Has
only today realized in my sleep
That
she had never loved me…”
Alexander Blok.
Apparently, Blok was never able to forgive his wife
for her betrayal. On November 20, 1908, he wrote the poem quoted in the
previous posting, but in order to understand that poem, we ought to think
through the preceding poem, written on the verge of despair on March 4th,
1908, apparently on the day or shortly after the day when Lyubov Mendeleeva
left Blok. –
“I
remember prolonged torments:
The
night was dying away behind the window;
Her
arms twisted in desperation
Were
barely visible in the ray of the day.
The
whole life [with
Mendeleeva], meaninglessly lived out,
Was
torturing, humiliating, scorching…
And
the morning lingered on, and on, and on…
And
the burden of the idle question stayed on;
And
nothing was resolved
Through
the spring shower of turbulent tears.”
The next Blokian poem without a title, dated November
20th, 1908, is virtually a continuation of the first one. –
“And
again you called me inhuman,
You,
who were given to me a long time ago…”
[Because of this last line I believe that this poem is
also about L. D. Mendeleeva.]
“…But
your face has been burned
By
a violent crosswind…”
[In other words, Lyubov Mendeleeva met the man for
whom she had left Blok.]
“…Again,
helplessly and in vain,
You
tried to move away from the fire,
But
even the heaven was passionate,
And
the heaven was on my side!..”
When L. D. Mendeleeva left her husband, Blok writes:
“…And
it no longer made any difference
Whose
mouth to kiss, whose shoulders to caress,
Into
which dead end streets
To
send the daring driver…
And
it made no difference whose sigh, whose whisper…
Perhaps
it was no longer you…”
Blok keeps lamenting, continuing his story:
“…Now
that the stars are closer to me
Than
you, frenetic night,
When
even more immeasurably lower
You’ve
fallen, daughter of humiliation…”
Apparently, both Bulgakov and Marina Tsvetaeva are
convinced that L. D. Mendeleeva got herself into a brothel or out on the street.
Then Blok writes:
“…When
alone with my own self
I
am cursing each and every day,
Now
passing before me
Is
your brought-down shadow…”
And the poem ends predictably for the researcher and
for the reader:
“…With
benevolence? Or with reproach?
Or
with hate, revenge, or sorrow?
Or
a desire to become a guilty verdict to me? –
I
do not know; I have forgotten you.”
All of this going back and forth demonstrates to the
researcher that Blok was disconcerted and in a perturbed state of mind. He was
really hurt by his wife, even though they did have, by a mutual agreement, a
so-called open marriage. However, continuously realizing that his wife was
nothing more than a stupid woman, he lamented his grievous mistake in life.
After all his love verses, Blok realizes that he
himself loves no one. And in his 1908-1916 poetry cycle Harps and Violins, already after the death of the “blessed baby,” Blok writes the following
in another titleless poem:
“Even
though I lived without love,
Even
though I will break my vows,
Still,
you are stirring my soul
Wherever
I happen to meet you!
And
in my lonely house,
An
empty and cold house…
I am
dreaming of the abandoned house,
I
am dreaming of the former years…
It
looks like for all time
My
thoughts are trapped by you!”
Apparently, here Blok is remembering his former infatuation
with his wife, how it all had begun. Having been left alone, Blok is trying to
remember only the good things about his wife, forgetting all the bad things. –
“…Oh,
these faraway arms!
Into
this bleak dwelling
You
are bringing your charm
Even
in separation!”
However, already in his next poem Blok comes back to
his senses:
“Years
flowed after years,
And
the blind stupid me
Has
only today realized in my sleep
That
she had never loved me…”
To be continued…
***
No comments:
Post a Comment