It is common to say that the early days of the Soviet Union was a period of prosperity of the Soviet people. Could be the smell of the tragedy which was then in the sky of the proletariat can the glorification of the country who dreams of the renewal of history and the human condition, the fact that the poets are numerous and often excellent. We can quote Vladimir Mayakovsky, Boris Pasternak , Anna Akhmatova and Marina Tsvetaeva. But in the middle of this list, there is a page torn, missing. The emptiness and silence. Today we know that this vacuum has been occupied by the greatest poet of the Soviet power, Ossip Mandelstam, who died near Vladivostok, on the road from the Institute in 1938, at the age of 47.
There is a need to not Gorbachev and perestroika finally we can see the silhouette hit Mandelstam. A little later, the great poet, Roman/German, Paul Celan, who died in Paris in 1970, brought us to know some of these texts come from the.
Today the French editions Le Bruit du Temps (the noise of time, the title borrowed from a poem by Mandelstam) allows us to finally read Mandelstam’s two volumes, elegant in the case of one prose, the other poetry, the translation of the best poets in France, such as Philippe Jacottet.
To say that these texts were saved from the sound not the image. It must be understood in the literal sense. The word Mandelstam was born in silence, after which he was at home, and save at the same time by the sound. Because of the ferocity of the Soviets? Not only. Since long before the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917, and Ossip Mandelstam was typically Russian and very common: he read his poems in public places. Is Ossip, not only ceased to publish poems, as well as books. He puts on his head and not on paper. And then? For the differences of these Lost Words return to us today in the muddy with violent beauty? Answer: by the love and courage of a woman, Nadejda wife Mandelstam.
As if the people of the Mandelstam was twice condemned to extinction, first because the choice of Mandelstam (the word before writing it), then after the revolution, because the company Bolshevik. Fortunately, his wife, Nadejda, dedicated himself to save his to save them. Later they will feature your story in a wonderful book against all hope.
Mandelstam explained why he entrusted his hair to the sound of more of the paper. “Attention to listen to the germination pictures of time”. And again: “I have no manuscripts, or laptops. The effects of hands is not personal because I didn’t write. I’m the only one in Russia to work with his voice while around me a group of greyhounds in thick, this gang writes. What kind of writer I am!” The “mob” of people in the system of literary “isms” (Futurism, etc.), officials and accomplices of the “ladies-in-hand fat”. It’s Ossip looking for something more, “search images suspension of time”. Looking for a player? “A poem,” says Ossip Mandelstam, “always someone eating, level unknown”.
Ossip, however, is not unilateral. Is a smiley guy, that likes to love and friendship. This Jewish atheist “alucinadamente alive” incredibly bright. Aware of all submerged in the music, learning languages. Mandelstam, “the flaming fire of words.”
In 1919, he had 29 years and is Nadejda in the club. She is 19 years old. They sleep together the first night. Nadejda explains proudly: “we were at the beginning of the sexual revolution.” In the following years, Ossip still in this sexual revolution. Excited revolutionary, he explores all the corners. Sleeping with the actress Olga Arbanian another actress Olga Veksel more poet Maria Petrovykh and other… network Nadejda sometimes I think that the sexual revolution to some extent very successful, but forgive. Like Ossip, Ossip loves her.
For a long time, the life of Ossip simple, in spite of the Soviet regime. So rather than follow the intricacies, it is better to show some of his poems, save them twice from the absence of thanks to Nadejda. This poem from 1933, translated by Henry, April: “this January to make me the same thing? / Crazy Town opening clings to us. / I would like to be drunk with a lot of doors shut? / I wanted to scream in front of all the bars! / And the complaints of these alleys are loud, attics of winding streets without end / and the boys, moving the wings, hide / reappear in the corners and pillars. / I’m slipping on some hole in the shade of a hundred broadcast, / to rise to the pump is frozen / I learn during chewing dead air, filled with worms infectos / during the proliferation of typos frantically. / / And after them I screamed and screamed suddenly, / in this ice box of wood: / the “reader! Tip! Doctor! / On the stairs encaracoladas, talk, talk to me”.
Translate Lauro Machado Coelho: “the fingers of the law from the peasants / thick as salsichões, / and the words come out of his lips, heavy as lead. / The bristles of the cheap vibram / barrel of gleaming shoes. And / or back, there is a herd of leaders / neck slim men by half, the fawn / that was playing as if they were pets. / Growl, purr, and howl every time he talks to them or refers them the finger. / A one Invents Act provides that, if, is a hit shoe on his head, / in the eye, in the lower abdomen. / And every time they kill this pitéu / to ossétio thick neck.”
Translating Augusto de Campos: “no fingers thick worms are obese. / His words falling like weights. / Cheap, the bristles give risotas; / shines as a mirror of your shoes. / Surrounded magote servility, / playing with this cat subgente. / A the Lumia another siren another buy. / Only is the Thunder and all the jerks. / Forges decrees like horses: / in the eye! On the hips! In dentures! / Frui everyone such as berries. / Friend Dublin its prey.”