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In contrast to the life of a work of art is never accepted as a matter of course: it has always considered against the background of the forerunners and predecessors. Shadows great especially visible in poetry, because the words are not as volatile, as those concepts, they express.
Therefore, a significant part of the work of any poet implies controversy with these shadows, hot or cold breath that he feels compelled to feel the back of the head or the efforts of literary critics. “classics” exert such enormous pressure, that the result is at times verbal paralysis. And because the mind is better adapted to the, to generate a negative view of the future, than to cope with the prospect, trend is, to perceive the situation as final. In such cases natural ignorance or feigned innocence seems blessed, because they allow to dismiss all this as a non-existent ghosts and “sing” (preferably free verse) just from the mind on the stage of their own physical presence.
However, the viewing of any such situation as the final usually reveals not so much a lack of courage, as poverty of imagination. If the poet lived long enough, he learns to cope with such lulls (regardless of their origin), using them for their own purposes. Intolerance is easier to sustain the future, intolerance than this, if only because, that human foresight is much more destructive, than all, that may bring future.
Eugenio Montale is now eighty-one years, and much of the future is behind him — and of his and others'. Only two events in his biography can be considered bright: first — his service as an infantry officer in the Italian army during World War I.. second — the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1975 year. Between these events could catch him preparing for the career of an opera singer (He had a promising bel canto), We are fighting against the fascist regime — what he was doing from the very beginning and that ultimately cost him the post of custodian of the library “cabinet Vesso” Florence, — writing articles, edits magazines, for nearly three decades and fro musical and other cultural events for “the third page” “Korrʹere della sera” and writing poems for sixty years. Thank God, that his life was so uneventful.
Ever since the Romantics, we are accustomed to the biographies of poets, whose amazing creative biography was sometimes as short, no matter how insignificant their contribution was. In this context, Montale — a kind of anachronism, and the size of his contribution to poetry was anachronistic great. Sovremennik Apollinaire, TS Eliot, M., He belongs to the generation of more than a chronological. All these authors have caused a qualitative change in their own literature, as i Montale, whose task was much more difficult.
While English-language poet reads Frenchman (let us say, Laforga) often accidentally, Italian does so due to the geographical imperatives. Alps, that used to be a one-way road of civilization to the north, сейчас — two-way highway for literature “isms” all kinds! As for the shadows, in this case, their crowd (thickness / Tops) constrain work extremely. To make a new step, Italian poet must lift the load, accumulated traffic past and present, and it is loaded with the present Montale, perhaps, easier to handle.
Except this French proximity, The situation in the Italian poetry in the first two decades of this century is not too different from that of other European literatures. By this I mean the aesthetic inflation, caused by the absolute dominance of the poetics of Romanticism (whether naturalistic or symbolist variant). The two main figures in the Italian poetry scene of the time — these “bullies” Gabriele D'Annuncio and Marinetti — just announced that inflation in their own way. While D'Annunzio brought harmony discounted to its extreme (and higher) limit, Marinetti and other futurists fought for the opposite: the dismemberment of this harmony. In both cases, it was a war against the funds of funds; that is, the conditioned response, which marked the captive aesthetics and sensitivity. It now seems clear, it took three poets of the next generation: Giuseppe Ungaretti, Umberto Saba and Eugenio Montale, — to make Italian produce modern lyrics.
The spiritual odyssey is not so, and even it — only vehicle. The metaphysical realist with an obvious passion for extremely condensed imagery, Montale was able to create his own poetic language through the imposition of, what he called “Avlico” — court, — on “prozaicheskiy”; language, which could also be defined as amaro stile nuovo (in contrast Dante formula, prevailed in the Italian poetry for more than six centuries). The most remarkable achievements of Montale, that he was able to get ahead, Despite the pressures dolce stile nuovo. In fact, not even trying to loosen the grip of, Montale constantly paraphrases the great Florentine, or refers to its imagery and vocabulary. The multiplicity of its allusions partly explains the accusations of ambiguity, that critics occasionally leveled against him. But references and paraphrases are a natural part of any civilized speech (free, or “freed” them it — only gestures), especially in the Italian cultural tradition. Michelangelo and Raphael, resulting in only these two examples, Both were avid interpreters “The divine Comedy”. One of the purposes of art — create debtors; paradox is, what, The more debt the artist, the richer.
Maturity, Montale discovered that in his first book — “Cuttlebones”, published in 1925 year, — complicates the explanation of its development. Already in it, he subverts the ubiquitous Italian music odinnadtsatislozhnika, choosing intentionally monotone intonation, which is sometimes done by adding a stop piercing or become muted when they pass, — one of the many methods of, to which he resorts, to avoid the inertia of prosody. If you recall the immediate predecessors of Montale (and the most eye-catching figure among them is certainly the D'Annunzio), it becomes clear, that stylistically Montale no obligation to anyone or everyone, from whom he pushed in his poems, for controversy — one of the forms of inheritance.
This continuity through the waste is evident in the use of rhyme montalevskom. In addition to its linguistic function echo, a sort of tribute to the language, rhyme tells sense of inevitability approval poet. Although useful, repetitive nature of rhyme scheme (as, however, any scheme) It creates the danger of exaggeration, not to mention the removal of the last of the reader. To prevent this, Montale often interleaves rhyme in a poem unrhymed. His opposition to the stylistic redundancy is of course as ethical, and aesthetic, proving, that the poem is a form of the closest possible interaction between ethics and aesthetics.
This interaction, Unfortunately, just that, that tends to disappear in the translation. However, despite the loss of “vertebral compactness” (in the words of its most sensitive critic Glauco Kembona), Montale tolerates translation. Inevitably falling into a different tone, transfer — because it explains to nature — somehow picks up the original, clarifies that, that could be considered by the author as a self-evident and, in this way, elude read in the original. Although much of the elusive, discreet music is lost, US wins readers in understanding the meaning and are unlikely to repeat in English the Italian prosecution in obscurity. Speaking about this collection, one can only regret, that footnote does not include an indication of the rhyme scheme and metrical pattern of these poems. Ultimately, there is a footnote there, where survival of civilization.
maybe, term “development” inapplicable to the poet montalevskoy sensitivity, not least because, that it assumes a linear process; poetic thinking is always synthesizes and applies the quality — Montale himself expresses it in one of his poems — something like engineering “radar bat”, that is, when thought covers an angle of 360 degrees. Also, at each time the poet has language in its entirety; give them preference for archaic words, for example, dictated by its material threads or nerves, rather than pre-worn-out stylistic program. The same is true for the syntax, strofiki etc.. For sixty years Montale managed to keep his poetry to a stylistic plateau, the height of which is felt even in translation.
“new poems” — to my mind, sixth book Montale, coming out in English. But unlike the previous editions, which sought to provide a comprehensive view of all the works of the poet, this book includes only poetry, written in the last decade, coinciding, in this way, with the last (1971) collection “Satura”. And though it would be pointless to consider this book as the final word of the poet, However — due to the age of the author and unifying its theme death of his wife — each poem to some extent according atmosphere limb. For death as a topic always generates a self-portrait.
In poetry, as in any other form of speech, the destination is as important as, than speaking. protagonist “new poems” busy trying to make sense of the distance between it and the “interlocutor” and then guess, Whatever the answer “she” He gave, any “she” here. Silence, in which his speech was focused on the need to, in the sense of the responses indirectly implies more, what allows the human imagination, — and this gives montalevskuyu “her” undoubted superiority. In this respect, Montale resembles neither TS Eliot, or Thomas Hardy, with whom he is often compared, but rather by Robert Frost “New Hampshire period” its submission, that woman was created from man's rib (for figurative heart) not in order, to be loved, not in order, чтобы любить, not in order, to be judged, but in order, to be “your judge”. However, Unlike Frost, Montale has to deal with this form of superiority, which is the fait accompli -prevoskhodstvo in absentia, — and it awakens in him is not so much a feeling of guilt, how consciousness disunion: his personality in these poems was expelled in “external time”.
So this is love lyrics, in which death plays roughly the same role, which she plays “The divine Comedy” or the Petrarch Sonnet madonne Laure: conductor role. But here the familiar lines of moves is very different personality; His speech has nothing to do with the holy anticipation. AT “new poems” Montale demonstrates a tenacity of imagination, a thirst to get around the flank of death, which will allow a person, discovered on arrival in the realm of shadows, what “Kilroy was here”, know your own handwriting.
However, in these verses is not morbid fascination with death, no falsetto; as the poet says here — so is the lack of, which manifests itself in exactly the same nuances of the language and feelings, that once they discover its presence “she”, proximity language. From this very personal tone poems: in their choice of metric and details. This speaker's voice — often muttering — about myself at all it is the most striking feature of Montale's poetry. But this time, a personal note is enhanced by the fact, that the lyrical hero speaks of things, of which only he knew the real and the real is, — shoehorns, suitcases, Hotel name, where they once stayed, mutual friends, books, that they both read. The realities of this kind and intimate speech inertia arises private mythology, which gradually takes all the traits, inherent in any mythology, including surreal vision, metamorphosis, etc.. In this mythology instead of a sphinx there zhenogrudogo image “her” minus points: surrealism subtraction, and subtraction is, affecting either on, either tone, there is something, which makes the unity of this collection.
Death — always a song “innocence”, never — experience. And from the very beginning of his work Montale clearly prefers a song of confession. Although it is less clear, than confession, unique songs; as loss. During the life of the psychological acquisition become unshakeable, than real estate. Nothing is touching alienated man, resorted to the elegy:
I went down, gave you a hand, at least one million
and now, when you're not here, at each step –
Nevertheless, our long journey was too short.
My still lasts, although I no longer needed
transplant, armor, traps,
repentance of those, who believe,
that really only visible to us.
I went down a million stairs, gave you a hand,
not because, four eyes, can, see better.
I went through it with you, because he knew, that the two of us
The only true pupils, although clouded,
were you.

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