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Poetry is an art borders, and no one knows this better, than the Russian poet. Meter, rhyme, folk tradition and the classical heritage, she prosody — decisively evil to someone else “needs in the song”. There are only two ways out of this situation,: any attempt to break through the barriers, either love them. second — choice of more humble and, probably, inevitable. Poetry Akhmadullina is protracted affair with said borders, and communicate this brings rich rewards. Or, rather, beautiful flowers — roses.
The above does not imply fragrance, no color, but the density of petals and swirling, elastic blooming. Ahmadulina rather weaves his verse, than it builds around a central theme, and the poem, after four or fewer rows of, blooming, there is an almost self, is phonetic and allusive words to the capacity growth. Her imagery inherits view to the same extent, that sound, but last longer dictates, than sometimes the author suggests. In other words, the lyricism of her poetry have largely lyricism of the Russian language.
A good poet — always an instrument of their own language, but not vice versa. Not least because, the latter over the previous. The poetic persona Akhmadullina unthinkable without Russian prosody — not so much because of the uniqueness of the semantic phonetic structures (take at least one of its most common rhyming smile / evidence, the meaning of which is enhanced quality of consonance), but thanks to a specific tone of traditional Russian folk weeping, indistinct wailing. This is particularly evident in her performances. However, Akhmadullina is inherent to the same extent, that the very nature of women and.
If I do not call poetry Akhmadullina courageous, it is not because, that it would anger many individuals effeminate — simply poetry ludicrous adjectives. female, male, the black, white — all this nonsense; poetry or have, or it is not. Adjectives usually cover their weakness. Instead, use any of them enough to say, Ahmadulina that much more powerful poet, than two of her famous countrymen — Yevtushenko and Voznesensky. her poems, in contrast to the first, not commonplace, and they are less pretentious, than the second. The true advantage over the two lies in the substance of her poetry and in the, how she handles. told, However, not the best way to compliment the Russian poet — anyway, not in this century.
Similar to the rose, art Akhmadullina largely introverted and centripetal. this introversion, It is completely natural, in the country, where the author lives, It is also a form of moral survival. Personality is forced to resort to the baggage at this rate, that there is a danger of it falling into drug addiction or, worse, find his once empty. Ahmadulina perfectly aware of this danger, especially, she works in the exact size, which themselves produce a certain automatism and the monotony of the scriptures. Of the two options — continue poem, the risk of high-sounding repeats, or stop in time — she often (and predictably) He prefers the first. And then the readers will get something like this “Tales of rain” or “my family tree”. Nevertheless, at times discreet charm keeps a tight rein on verbose pomposity.
The undoubted heir Lermontovsky-Pasternak line in Russian poetry, Ahmadulina by nature a poet rather narcissistic. But her narcissism manifests itself primarily in the choice of words and syntax (which is absolutely unthinkable in this language afleksichnom, as English). Much less it is aimed at the choice of a complacent posture — least of all civic. When, However, she turns righteous, contempt usually directed against the moral slovenliness, dishonesty and bad taste, directly hinting at the ubiquitous nature of her opponent. A similar kind of criticism has, undoubtedly, a win-win game, because the poet is right, so to speak, a priori: because the poet “it is better”, than non-poet. Currently, the Russian public is much more sensitive to accusations of psychological, rather than of a political nature, tired of taking the last of the reverse side of the same coin official. There is a certain degree of cynicism in this position; but still better, if so I prefer it to the rise of a romantic tone.
Such a perception of the world allows a person to feel confident in the establishment of the hierarchy. This applies above all to the modern Russia, where the intellectual elite is mixed with the elite of the party bureaucracy in the joint flight from the other part of the nation's standards. This situation is to some extent typical of any true dictatorship, where the tyrant and Carbonaro attend the evening the same opera; and then it is easier to reproach anyone else, than Akhmadulina, who never aspired to reputation “rebel”. What still sad and justice, and injustice, so is, that the triumph of both is expressed to some extent in his car, country house, paid by the state for traveling abroad.
As I write these lines, Ahmadulina accompanied by her fourth husband, artist-set designer Boris Messerer, touring throughout the United States. But, in contrast to the aforementioned famous predecessors, it is not a commercial product for export, hateful caviar, more Red, than black. AND, by comparison, her poems have been translated into English much worse (actually disgusting).
Ahmadulina completely authentic poet, but she lives in the country, which forces the person to master the art of concealing his own authenticity of such gnomic subordinate clauses, with the result that a person reduces itself for the ultimate goal. However, even being distorted, centripetal reduction of both, her and her lyrical, it is better, centrifugal frenzy than many colleagues. Because at least, that the first produces the highest degree of linguistic and metaphorical tension, while the second leads to uncontrolled verbosity and -tsitiruya Lenin — political prostitution, which, essentially, It is a male occupation.
Bell was born in Ahmadulina 1937 year, grim year of Russian history. This alone is proof of the amazing vitality of Russian culture. Early childhood Akhmadullina coincided with the Second World War, her youth — post-war hardships, spiritual castration and deadly idiocy of Stalin's rule, Russian rarely turn to psychoanalysts — and she began to write poetry at school, in the early fifties. She quickly matured and absolutely no harm to themselves went through the Literary Institute Gorky, converting nightingales in parrots. Her first book was published in 1962 year and immediately disappeared from the shelves of bookstores. Since Ahmadulina earned a living mainly from Georgian poetry translations (for Russian writers to engage in Caucasian republics about the same, that American — Mexico or Brazil), journalism and internal review. Once even starred in a movie. She had a normal life, consisting of marriages, divorce, companies, loss, trips to the South. She wrote poetry, combining perfectly traditional quatrains with absolutely surrealistic imagery dialectic, allowed her to raise their shivering from cold to space clutter level.
In the country, where the audience and the theater of the absurd swapped (one hundred percent realism on stage, while going God knows what in the hall), — This variety has a multiplicity of echo perception. No one will envy the woman, writing poetry in Russian in this century, because there are two gigantic figures, are each, Taking pen in hand, — Marina Tsvetaeva and Anna Akhmatova. Ahmadulina openly admits almost paralyzing for her charm and the two of them swore fealty. In these confessions, and vows it easy to distinguish its claim for final equality. But the fee for such equality is too high for wanting. There is a lot of truth in the cliché about art, requires sacrifice, and too little evidence, that art today has become less carnivorous, than in the year of birth of Bella Akhmadulina.
* Translation carried out on the text “Why Russian Poets?” (“Vogue”, vol. 167, No. 7, July 1977, p. 112).
* Translation from English Victor Kulle

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