Marina Tsvetaeva is a poet of great talent and tragic fate. She always remained true to herself, the voice of her conscience, the voice of her muse, who never "changed goodness and beauty." She starts writing poetry very early, and of course, the first lines about love:
We were separated not by people, but by shadows.
My boy, my heart!
There was, is not and will not be a replacement,
My boy, my heart!
About her first book "Evening Album", the recognized master of Russian poetry M. Voloshin wrote: "Evening Album" is a wonderful and direct book ... "Tsvetaeva's lyrics are addressed to the soul, focused on the rapidly changing inner world of a person and, in the end, on life itself in all its fullness:
Who is made of stone, who is made of clay,
And I'm silver and sparkle!
I care - treason, my name
Marina,
I am the mortal foam of the sea.
In Tsvetaeva's poems, like colored shadows in a magic lantern, appear: Don Juan in a Moscow blizzard, young generals of 1812, the "oblong and hard oval" of a Polish grandmother, the "mad ataman" Stepan Razin, passionate Carmen. Most of all, perhaps, I am attracted in Tsvetaeva's poetry by her emancipation, sincerity. It is as if she is holding out her heart to us in the palm of her hand, confessing:
With all my insomnia I love you
I will listen to you with all my insomnia ...
Sometimes it seems that all of Tsvetaeva's lyrics are a continuous declaration of love for people, for the world and for a particular person. Liveliness, attentiveness, the ability to get carried away and captivate, a warm heart, a burning temperament - these are the characteristic features lyrical heroine Tsvetaeva, and at the same time her own. These character traits helped her retain the taste of life, despite the disappointments and difficulties of the creative path.
Marina Tsvetaeva put the work of the poet at the head of her life, despite the often impoverished existence, domestic troubles and tragic events that literally haunted her. But life was conquered by life, which grew out of hard, ascetic labor.
The result - hundreds of poems, plays, more than ten poems, critical articles, memoirs, in which Tsvetaeva said everything about herself. One can only bow before the genius of Tsvetaeva, who created a completely unique poetic world and sacredly believed in her muse.
Before the revolution, Marina Tsvetaeva published three books, managing to keep her voice among the motley polyphony of literary schools and trends of the Silver Age. She wrote original, accurate in form and thought works, many of which stand next to the heights of Russian poetry.
I know the truth! All the old truths - away.
There is no need for people to fight with people on earth.
Look: it's evening, look: it's almost night.
About what - poets, lovers, generals?
The wind is already blowing. Already the earth is in dew,
Soon a starry blizzard will catch in the sky,
And under the earth we will soon fall asleep,
Who on earth did not let each other fall asleep ...
The poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva requires an effort of thought. Her poems and poems cannot be read and read in between times, mindlessly slipping through the lines and pages. She herself defined the “co-creation” of the writer and reader as follows: “What is reading, if not solving, interpreting, extracting the secret that remains behind the lines, beyond the limit of words ... Reading - first of all - co-creation ... Tired of my thing , - means, well read and - good read. The reader's fatigue is not exhausted, but creative.
Tsvetaeva saw Blok only from a distance, did not exchange a single word with him. Tsvetaevsky's cycle "Poems to Blok" is a monologue of love, gentle and reverent. And although the poetess refers to him as “you”, but the epithets that are assigned to the poet (“gentle ghost”, “knight without reproach”, “snow swan”, “righteous man”, “quiet light”) say that Blok is for her - this is not a real person, but a symbolic image of Poetry itself:
Your name- bird in hand
Your name is ice on the tongue
One single movement of the lips.
Your name is five letters.
How much music in these amazing four lines and how much love! But the object of love is inaccessible, love is unrealizable:
But my river - yes with your river,
But my hand is yes with your hand
They won't get along. My joy, as long as
Dawn will not catch up - dawn.
With her inherent aphorism, Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva formulated the definition of a poet as follows: "Equality of the gift of the soul and the verb - that's the poet." She herself happily combined these two qualities - the gift of the soul ("The soul was born winged") and the gift of the word.
I am happy to live exemplary and simple:
Like the sun - like a pendulum - like a calendar.
To be a secular desert of slender growth,
Wise - like every creature of God.
Know: The Spirit is my companion, and the Spirit is my guide!
To enter without a report, like a beam and like a glance.
Live as I write: exemplary and concise,
As God commanded and friends do not order.
The tragedy of Tsvetaeva begins after the 1917 revolution. She does not understand and does not accept her, she finds herself alone with her two young daughters in the chaos of post-October Russia. Everything seems to have collapsed: the husband knows where, those around him are not up to poetry, but what is a poet without creativity? And Marina in despair asks:
What should I do, edge and fishery
Singer! - like a wire! Tan! Siberia!
According to their obsessions - like over a bridge!
With their weightlessness
In the world of kettlebells.
Never - neither in the terrible post-revolutionary years, nor later in exile; - Tsvetaeva did not betray herself, did not betray herself, the person and the poet. Abroad, it was difficult for her to get close to the Russian emigration. Her unhealed pain, open wound - Russia. Do not forget, do not throw out of the heart. (“It’s as if my life has been killed... my life is running out.”)
In 1939, Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva returned to her homeland. And the final act of the tragedy began. The country, crushed by the leaden fog of Stalinism, seemed to prove - again and again - that it did not need a poet who loved her and aspired to her homeland. Aspiring, as it turned out, to die.
In godforsaken Elabuga on August 31, 1941 - a loop. The tragedy is over. Ended life. What's left? Fortitude, rebellion, incorruptibility. The poetry remains.
Opened the veins: unstoppable,
Irreversibly gushing life.
Bring bowls and plates!
Every plate will be small.
The bowl is flat.
Over the edge - and past -
Into the black earth, feed the reeds.
Irrevocable, unstoppable
Irreversibly whipping verse.
About Tsvetaeva, about her poems, I can write endlessly. Her love lyrics are amazing. Well, who else could define love this way:
Scimitar? Fire?
More modest - where so loud!
Pain, familiar as the eyes - a palm,
How to lips -
Name of own child.
In Tsvetaeva's poems, she is all rebellious and strong, and in pain continues to give herself to people, creating poetry from tragedy and suffering.
I am a Phoenix bird, I sing only in fire!
Support my high life!
I burn high - and I burn to the ground!
And may the night be bright for you!
Today, the prophecy of Marina Tsvetaeva has come true: she is one of the most beloved and read contemporary poets.
All of Tsvetaeva's poetry, her very life and death are perceived as an irreconcilable struggle with an ordinary, gray and dull existence. Is it possible to imagine the life of a poet even and calm? These are continuous ups and downs, resulting in poetry, wonderful philosophical reflections on the meaning of life, the rejection of lies, the eternal mystery of love and death.
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“I have learned to live simply, wisely…”
(the image of the lyrical heroine M. Tsvetaeva)
Who is made of stone, who is made of clay, -
And I'm silver and sparkle!
I care - treason, my name is Marina,
I am the mortal foam of the sea.
Who is made of clay, who is made of flesh -
The coffin and tombstones...
- In the font of the sea baptized - and in flight
His - incessantly broken!
Through every heart, through every net
My willfulness will break through.
Me - do you see these dissolute curls? -
You can't make earthly salt.
Crushing on your granite knees,
I am resurrected with every wave!
Long live the foam - cheerful foam -
High sea foam!
Life sends some poets such a fate that, from the very first steps of conscious being, puts them in the most favorable conditions for the development of a natural gift. Such a bright and tragic was the fate of Marina Tsvetaeva, a major and significant poet of the first half of our century. Everything in her personality and in her poetry sharply went beyond the traditional ideas, the prevailing literary tastes. This was both strength and originality of her poetic word. With passionate conviction she affirmed what she had proclaimed in her early youth. life principle: to be only oneself, not to depend in anything either on time or on the environment, and it was this principle that later turned into insoluble contradictions in a tragic personal fate.
Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva is one of the few lyricists whose personality is inseparable from creativity. Tsvetaeva the personality and Tsvetaeva the poet do not exist separately from each other. In Tsvetaeva’s notebooks there is one entry: “Oh, my God, how to explain that the poet - first of all - BUILD THE SOUL!” The lyrics of Marina Tsvetaeva are extremely sincere. This is the immutable law of her creativity. Through her lyrics, she enters into a dialogue with the reader, counting on a counter thought. So reading lyrical works poetess - constant co-creation.
Tsvetaeva's poetry is especially captivating because the lyrical lines reveal her nature - charming, deep, strong. She never does anything that would disgust her, she is always independent and in everything. Her lyrical heroine has a huge gift of love for life, for all its manifestations. Watching the lyrical heroine, one never ceases to wonder how different she can be - affectionate, gentle, passionate, stubborn, impudent, arrogant and vulnerable. Ilya Ehrenburg, who knew the poetess well in her youth, wrote: “Marina Tsvetaeva combined old-fashioned courtesy and rebelliousness, reverence for harmony and love for spiritual tongue-tied tongue, utmost pride and utmost simplicity. Her life was a tangle of insights and mistakes." The heroine Tsvetaeva accepts everything that at first glance may seem completely opposite. She is disgusted by limitations in all manifestations.
She rejects limitations in feelings, in tastes, in affections ... She says that she never “knew the measure” in anything. This immensity does not mean that the heroine is omnivorous, she is driven by a thirst for the fullness of life. The lyrical heroine Tsvetaeva does not experience fear of the elements, because she herself is the bearer of spontaneity. The poetess already in her early work was occupied with questions about life and death, the purpose of man, the essence of human existence. Her lyrical heroine proves that all manifestations of the human soul must find a way out, be realized. The strength of the spirit shines through in every line of her poem. Lyrical heroine - unusually strong personality, which does not accept a serene, calm existence.
Action, deed - that's the goal of her life. But even she, independent and strong, needs such human relationships as friendship, love, mutual understanding in order to feel her need. The lyrical heroine Tsvetaeva is looking for human warmth, participation, therefore she goes to “strangers” and “friends” with a “requirement of faith” and a “request for love”. No matter how strong a person is, loneliness is the worst thing that can happen.
The bright personality of Marina Tsvetaeva is unusually many-sided, her attitude to the world is very contradictory, her fate is deeply tragic ... Intimacy and immediacy are characteristic of all her work, thanks to which we can confidently call her lyrics personal diary, which absorbed all the deepest experiences of a woman who wrote during a difficult turning point in history. Everything described by Tsvetaeva is so visible that there is absolutely no doubt about the sincerity of Marina Ivanovna in relation to readers.
Through all the work of the poetess, the image of “wings”, the image of the sublime and free poetic soul. This very "wingedness" of her soul, the unique originality of her worldview allow us to speak with confidence about the isolation of Marina Ivanovna's inexhaustible creativity. By her "winged" soul is meant a free soul, and this freedom is felt not only in all poetry, but also in the life of the poetess. It is not for nothing that her lyrics did not fall within the framework of any literary movement, because the subordination of the power of any literary movement would mean for her the loss of individuality and the amazing liveliness of poetry.
The lyrical heroine Tsvetaeva inexorably strives for freedom in everything: in love for a person, for the Motherland. She even learned to use the loneliness that tormented her so that it gave her the opportunity to withdraw into herself, and there, inside, gain freedom.
Once, while relaxing in Koktebel with Maximilian Voloshin, Marina Tsvetaeva said:
- I will love the one who will give me the most beautiful stone.
To which M. Voloshin replied:
- No, Marina, everything will be different. First you will love him, and then he will put an ordinary stone in your hand, and you will call it the most beautiful stone.
Perhaps, in this story, the whole of Marina, still young, but already the same as she will remain in her poems and in life - a romantic and maximalist. And poetry and life weave into one the most important theme of his work - the theme of love.
A person who is so keenly aware of his alienation in the world around him needed simple human love that warms his suffering soul. It is with a request for love that the “knowing no measure” lyrical heroine of the poem “How many of them have fallen into this abyss” appeals to us all. And to love her, so “alive and real”, she asks precisely for her uniqueness, constant variability, inconsistency of an amazing character: “... for all my unbridled tenderness and too proud look ...”.
How many have fallen into this abyss,
I'll spread it away!
The day will come when I will disappear
From the surface of the earth.
Everything that sang and fought will freeze,
It shone and burst:
And gold hair.
And there will be life with its daily bread,
With forgetfulness of the day.
And everything will be - as if under the sky
And there was no me!
Changeable, like children, in every mine,
And so not for long evil,
Who loved the hour when the firewood in the fireplace
become ash,
Cello and cavalcades in the thicket,
And the bell in the village...
Me, so alive and real
On sweet earth!
To all of you - to me, who did not know the measure in anything,
Aliens and yours?! -
I make a claim of faith
And asking for love.
And day and night, and in writing and orally:
For truth yes and no,
For the fact that I so often - too sad
And only twenty years
For the fact that I have a direct inevitability -
Forgiveness of insults
For all my unbridled tenderness
And too proud
For the speed of swift events,
For the truth, for the game...
Listen! - still love me
For me to die.
Already in the first Tsvetaeva's verses there was a harshness, the harshness of male poets previously unknown in Russian women's poetry. Such was the character not only of the lyrical heroine of her poems, but also of Tsvetaeva herself. She contrasted the traditional female weakness, elegance and lightness of verse with the firmness of spirit and the strength of the master.
Look for trusting friends
Not straightening the miracle to a number.
I know that Venus is the work of hands,
Craftsman - and I know the craft.
From highly solemn silences
Until the complete trampling of the soul:
The whole staircase divine - from:
My breath - to: do not breathe!
Poems were for Tsvetaeva almost the only means of self-expression. Therefore, in her lyrics there is such a special confidence, openness. Valery Bryusov wrote that sometimes her poems make her feel awkward, as if she had peeped through a keyhole. And indeed, in verse - her whole life.
Our hall yearns for you,
You barely saw her in the shadows -
Those words yearn for you
What in the shadow I did not tell you.
Every evening I wander in it
Repeating gestures, glances in my thoughts...
On the wallpaper, the old patterns,
Twilight pours from the blue window;
The same chandeliers, a semicircle of a sofa,
(Only a pity that the chandeliers are not lit!)
Philodendrons a dull row,
In the corners placed without a plan.
There are no matches - someone has taken them away!
A gray cat sneaks out of the front...
This is the hour of my favorite nonsense,
The best thoughts and the most bitter tears.
Who is in business, who seeks to visit ...
A sleepy beam roams the piano.
play? Long lost key!
O clock, quit your dull fight!
Those words yearn for you
That in the shadows only the hall will hear.
I told you so little
You barely saw me in the shadows!
Lyubov Tsvetaeva can be open and sacrificial, bold, defiant, caring. For her heroine, love is life. In the poems of Marina Ivanovna, all sides, all times of love are represented - its origin, falling in love, its fire, flowering, period of jealousy, the end of love, separation.
Why such tenderness?
Not the first - these curls
I smooth and lips
I knew - darker than yours.
Stars rise and fall
(Where does this tenderness come from?)
Eyes rise and fall
At my very eyes.
Songs not like this
I listened in the dark night
(Where does this tenderness come from?)
On the chest of the singer.
Why such tenderness?
And what to do with her, lad
Crafty, the singer is a stranger,
With eyelashes - no longer?
“Since my childhood, ever since I can remember, it seemed to me that I want to be loved. Now I know and tell everyone: I don't need love, I need understanding. For me, this is love. And what you call love (sacrifice, fidelity, jealousy), take care for others, for the other - I do not need this. And I want ease, freedom, mutual understanding - not to hold anyone and no one to hold!
She is able to say thank you for not being loved and regret it.
The romance "I like that you are not sick with me ..."
Marina Tsvetaeva never referred to herself as a "poetess". Always a poet. She is certainly a woman in her poetry, but a strong, courageous, powerful woman, she is the Tsar Maiden, a hero who dreamed of a narrowed equal to herself, but she understands:
Not destined to be strong with strong
Would unite in this world.
Separation, parting, failed love, unfulfilled dreams - a frequent motif in Tsvetaeva's love lyrics. Fate separates two people destined for each other. The reason for parting can be many things - circumstances, people, time, impossibility of understanding, lack of sensitivity, mismatch of aspirations. One way or another, Tsvetaeva's heroine too often has to comprehend the "science of parting."
Yesterday I looked into your eyes
And now - everything is squinting to the side!
Yesterday I sat before the birds, -
All larks these days are crows!
I'm stupid and you're smart
Alive and I'm dumbfounded.
Oh, the cry of women of all time:
"My dear, what have I done to you?!"
And her tears are water, and blood -
Water, - in the blood, washed in tears!
Not a mother, but a stepmother - Love:
Don't expect judgment or mercy.
They take away cute ships,
The white road leads them away ...
And a groan stands along the whole earth:
Yesterday still - at the feet lay!
Equated with the Chinese power!
Immediately opened both hands, -
Life fell out - a rusty penny!
Child killer on trial
I stand - unloving, timid.
I'll tell you in hell
"My dear, what have I done to you?"
I'll ask for a chair, I'll ask for a bed:
“For what, for what do I endure and suffer?”
“Kissed - to wheel:
Kiss the other,” they answer.
I taught to live in the fire itself,
I threw it myself - into the icy steppe!
That's what you, dear, did to me!
My dear, what have I done to you?
I know everything - do not argue!
Again sighted - no longer a lover!
Where love retreats
There comes Death the gardener.
Samo - what a tree to shake! -
In time, the ripe apple falls ...
- For everything, for everything, forgive me,
My dear, what have I done to you!
The sincerity of love is broken against the coldness of the beloved. The tragedy intensifies from line to line, the heroine suffers, feels the doom of her love and seeks explanations - if not from her lover, then at least from something: a chair, a bed. She is ready to ask for forgiveness without even knowing why. Later, the lyrical heroine changes - now it is the Sibyl, Eurydice, Ariadne, Phaedra. The change of the heroine is caused by the motive of the tragedy of love, its doom, the impossibility of returning the outgoing. The heroine descends from heaven to earth and loses hope.
Here is the age-old sorrow of all women in the world - Tsvetaeva's contemporaries, women who died long before her and were not yet born - and their own suffering, and a clear understanding of doom. This poem is about when one of the two leaves, and there is an even more difficult parting - by the will of circumstances: “They broke us - like a deck of cards!” Both separations are hard, but neither has the power to kill feelings.
Distance: versts, miles...
We were placed, seated,
To be quiet
On two different ends of the earth.
Distance: versts, gave ...
We were glued, unsoldered,
In two hands they parted, crucified,
And they did not know that it was an alloy
Inspiration and tendons...
Not quarreled - quarreled,
Stratified ... Wall and moat.
They settled us like eagles
Conspirators: miles, gave ...
Not upset - lost.
Through the slums of the earth's latitudes
Dispersed us like orphans.
Which one, well, which one is March?!
They smashed us - like a deck of cards!
Jealousy, the constant companion of love and separation, also did not stay away from Tsvetaeva's lyrics. Lines about jealousy are no less touching than lines about tender feelings, but they sound a hundred times more tragic. The most striking example of this is "Jealousy Attempt". Along with the torment characteristic of Tsvetaeva from the loss of love, there is so much bile, so much bitter sarcasm, that the author of the lines appears in a completely new light. She has a thousand faces, and you never know which one will show up in the next poem.
How do you live with another
Easier right? Paddle kick!
Coastal line
Will the memory fade soon?
How do you live with downtime
A woman? Without deities?
empress from the throne
Have you overthrown (did you descend from it)?
"Convulsions and interruptions -
Enough! I'll rent a house."
How do you live with anyone -
My Chosen One!?
How do you live with the goods
Market? Quit - cool?
After the marbles of Carrara
How do you live with dust?
Gypsum? (From a block carved
God - and completely broken!)
How do you live with a hundred thousandth:
To you who know Lilith!
Market novelty
Are you full? Cool down to magic
How do you live with the earth
A woman, without a sixth
Feelings?! Well, for the head: happy?!
No? In a hole without depths:
How are you, honey? Is it harder
Is it the same as me with others?
The heroine is offended by the betrayal, she wants to selfishly hurt her beloved by the fact that she was not left alone, and emphasize her uniqueness for him, divinity. The reception of the antithesis clearly distinguishes between the image of the abandoned heroine and the image of another woman. It should be noted that the heroine completely shifts the blame for what happened to the hero. The rhetorical questions of the heroine emphasize her peculiarity.
The image of the lyrical heroine in the work of Tsvetaeva doubles. On the one hand, she is a woman full of tenderness, vulnerable, longing for understanding, on the other hand, she is a strong personality, ready to overcome all obstacles and resist at least the whole world, defending her right to love and happiness. Both appearances are two sides of the same coin, a single whole, appearing in different guises. The heroine, possessing these traits, is characterized by the concentration of the soul, immersion in love until complete dissolution. At the same time, it is not subject to self-destruction and preserves the integrity of the individual. In all this - Tsvetaeva herself. Images, feelings are not far-fetched, since sincerity is the main weapon of the poetess.
But one should not conclude that in Tsvetaeva's love lyrics, the main place is occupied by failed love, unrequited or rejected feelings. Her poems are like life itself; they are both hopeless and full of hope, both gloomy and bright. Sometimes the heroine appears, full of serene happiness and a sense of celebration, breathing life itself with her whole chest:
Dusty roads await us
Huts for an hour
And animal dens
And ancient halls...
Dear, dear, we are like gods:
The whole world for us!
Everywhere at home we are in the world,
I call everyone mine.
In the hut where the nets are repaired,
On the shining parquet...
Dear, dear, we are like children:
The whole world for two!
The sun is burning - north from south
Or to the moon!
They are the hearth and the burden of the plow,
We have space and greenery of the meadow ...
Dear, dear, each other
We are forever in captivity!
And no longer an embittered woman, tormented by jealousy, is looking at us, but a young girl, reveling in love, full of unspent tenderness.
Love never dies, it just reincarnates, takes on different guises and is forever reborn. This constant renewal for Tsvetaeva is explained very simply: love is the embodiment of creativity, the beginning of being, which has always been so important to her. As she could not live - and not write, so she could not live - and not love. Tsvetaeva belongs to those few people who managed to perpetuate both themselves and their love.
The romance "Under the caress of a plush blanket" sounds
Each lyrical hero of Marina Ivanovna tries to convey to the reader the full depth of the experiences and thoughts of the poetess and thereby opens her soul to us. Therefore, no matter how high feelings the lyrical heroes have, no matter what clever thoughts illuminate their minds, one can always find their real, vital basis of a person.With the independence of her work and all her life behavior, Marina Tsvetaeva defended the right of a woman to have a strong character, rejecting the established image of femininity. She preferred the happiness of freedom to the happiness of being loved and loving:
Like right and left hand
Your soul is close to my soul.
We are adjacent blissfully and warmly,
Like right and left wings.
But the whirlwind rises - and the abyss lies
From right to left wing!
With all her pride, "perfidy" Tsvetaeva can surrender to a short moment of love:
My! - and about what awards.
Paradise - when in the hands, at the mouth -
Life: open joy
Say hello in the morning!
Tsvetaeva undoubtedly appreciated every drop of love she needed so much, but love subdues. The poetic nature takes its toll and gravitates toward freedom, which is capable of giving her a completely different love, to which she has been striving so much all her life. It is precisely because of her unbridled love of freedom that the heroine of Marina Tsvetaeva is so lonely. Reflecting on the topic of the relationship between freedom and loneliness, one wonderful aphorism comes to mind: “ Absolute freedom possible only as complete loneliness.
When a snowflake that flies easily
Like a fallen star gliding,
You take it with your hand - it melts like a tear,
And it can't be returned to air.
When captivated by the transparency of the jellyfish,
We will touch it with the whim of our hands,
She is like a prisoner in bonds
Suddenly turns pale and suddenly dies.
When we want in wandering moths
To see not a dream, but an earthly reality -
Where is their outfit? From them on our fingers
One dawn painted dust!
Leave flying snowflakes with moths
And do not ruin the jellyfish on the sands!
You can't grab your dream with your hands,
You can't keep your dream in your hands!
It is impossible for what was unsteady sadness,
To say: "Be passion! Grief, madness, rejoice!"
Your love was such a mistake
But without love, we perish. Wizard!
Marina Ivanovna had her own holy commandment: “I will remain a poet even in my dying hiccups!”, to which the poetess was faithful all her life. Maybe that's why separation has become one of the main motives of Tsvetaeva's lyrics. “I don’t know a single poet in the world who would write so much about separation as Tsvetaeva. She demanded dignity in love and demanded dignity at parting, proudly hammering her feminine cry inside and only sometimes not holding it, ”Yevgeny Yevtushenko writes about her.
And although she sometimes regarded parting as “a sound from which her ears are torn,” she always remained true to herself:
No one, rummaging through our letters,
Didn't understand deeply
How treacherous we are, that is -
How true to yourself.
The poetess believed that "the depth of suffering cannot be compared with the emptiness of happiness." This depth in her life was enough in full. Her life path was very difficult. Living in difficult times, Marina Tsvetaeva remained a poet, despite the often impoverished existence, domestic troubles and tragic events that haunted her. Tsvetaeva had a good sense of the time, the era in which she happened to live. Therefore, in her poems there is such an internal tension, a breakdown. As if anticipating tragic fate, back in 1909 Marina Tsvetaeva wrote the following lines:
Christ and God! I want a miracle
Now, now, at the beginning of the day!
Oh let me die while
All life is like a book to me.
You are wise, You will not say strictly:
"Be patient, the term is not over yet."
You gave me too much!
I thirst at once - all roads!
I want everything: with the soul of a gypsy
Go to the songs for robbery,
For all to suffer to the sound of the organ
and an Amazon to rush into battle;
Fortune telling by the stars in the black tower
Lead the children forward, through the shadow...
To be a legend - yesterday,
To be madness - every day!
I love the cross, and silk, and helmets,
My soul of moments trace ...
You gave me childhood - fairy tales are better
And give me death - at seventeen!
Death "at seventeen", which the lyrical heroine Tsvetaeva asks for, is an opportunity to avoid many future sufferings.
What's ahead! What failure?
There is deceit in everything and, oh, a ban on everything! -
So I said goodbye to my sweet childhood, crying,
At fifteen.
The prophecy of one's own destiny was not the only one in the work of Marina Tsvetaeva. The main prophecy of the poetess was the prediction of her creative fate, her lyrical heritage:
To my poems written so early
That I did not know that I am a poet,
Ripped off like spray from a fountain
Like sparks from rockets.
Bursting like little devils
In the sanctuary where sleep and incense
To my poems about youth and death -
Unread verses! -
Scattered in the dust at the shops
(Where no one took them and does not take them!),
My poems are like precious wines
Your turn will come.
Tsvetaeva is primarily a poet, but next to the poet we see a woman, a complex, dual and contradictory woman, going against the current, prone to exaltation and denial, up to self-destruction. Being an incredibly proud woman, Tsvetaeva was not even subconsciously a feminist. She remained a woman of great passions, her poetic personality was nourished by them, they were always at the center of her life, regardless of the reaction of the object of this attention. But her cosmic passion, like any passion, having reached its climax, suddenly lost the meaning of existence, leaving inner emptiness and refusal. True love, faithful, continuing in time, she had only for her poems.
Amazing personal fullness, depth of feelings and power of imagination allowed Tsvetaeva throughout her life to draw poetic inspiration from the boundless, unpredictable and at the same time constant, like the sea, her own soul. In other words, from birth to death, from the first lines of poetry to the last breath, she remained, according to her own definition, a pure lyricist.
All of Tsvetaeva's poetry, her very life and death are perceived as an irreconcilable struggle with an ordinary, gray and dull existence. Is it possible to imagine the life of a poet even and calm? These are continuous ups and downs, resulting in poetry, wonderful philosophical reflections on the meaning of life, the rejection of lies, the eternal mystery of love and death.
You go, you look like me
Eyes looking down.
I dropped them too!
Walker, stop!
Read - chicken blindness
And poppies typing a bouquet,
That they called me Marina
And how old was I.
Do not think that here is a grave,
That I will appear, threatening ...
I loved myself too much
Laugh when you can't!
And the blood rushed to the skin
And my curls curled ...
I was too, passerby!
Walker, stop!
Pick yourself a wild stalk
And a berry after him, -
Cemetery strawberries
There is no bigger and sweeter.
But just don't stand gloomy,
Lowering his head to his chest.
Think of me easily
It's easy to forget about me.
How the beam illuminates you!
You're covered in gold dust...
And don't let it bother you
My voice is from underground.
The romance "I bless you on all four sides ..."
The work of Marina Tsvetaeva is an outstanding and original phenomenon of all Russian literature. She brought an unprecedented depth and expressiveness of lyricism to Russian poetry. Thanks to Marina Ivanovna, Russian poetry received a new direction in the self-disclosure of the female soul with its tragic contradictions.
POEMS TO THE BLOCK
Your name is a bird in your hand
Your name is ice on the tongue.
One single movement of the lips.
Your name is five letters.
Ball caught on the fly
Silver bell in the mouth.
A stone thrown into a quiet pond
Sigh like your name is.
In the light clicking of night hooves
Your loud name thunders.
And call him to our temple
A loud clicking trigger.
Your name - oh, you can't! -
Your name is a kiss in the eyes
In the gentle cold of motionless eyelids,
Your name is a kiss in the snow.
Key, icy, blue sip.
With your name - sleep is deep.
(M.A. Tsvetaeva, April 15, 1916)
1. Indicate the traditional lyrical genre that M.I. Tsvetaeva "Poems to Blok".
2. What stylistic device does M.I. Tsvetaeva in the line "In the gentle cold of motionless eyelids"?
3. What is the name of the repetition of a word or group of words at the beginning of adjacent lines of a poem:
Your name is a bird in your hand, / Your name is an icicle on your tongue...?
4. What is the inner image of the poet to whom the poem “Poems to Blok” is addressed to?
5. What feelings prevail in the lyrical statement of the heroine of M.I. Tsvetaeva "Poems to Blok"
6. What term denotes figurative definitions that give a lyrical statement a special expressiveness (“key, icy, blue sip”)?
7. Indicate a technique based on likening some phenomena to others and forming a figurative-associative series in M.I. Tsvetaeva.
8. Which of the Russian poets, like M.I. Tsvetaeva, addressed in his lyrics to friends or fellow writers, and what unites works of this kind? ()
* * *
Who is made of stone, who is made of clay,
And I'm silver and sparkle!
My business is treason, my name is Marina,
I am the mortal foam of the sea.
Who is made of clay, who is made of flesh -
The coffin and tombstones...
- She was baptized in the sea font - and in flight
His - incessantly broken!
Through every heart, through every net
My willfulness will break through.
Me - do you see these dissolute curls? -
You can't make earthly salt.
Crushing on your granite knees,
I am resurrected with every wave!
Long live foam - fun foam -
High sea foam!
(M.I. Tsvetaeva, 1920)
1. What is the name of the consonance of the ends of poetic lines (flesh - in flight; plates - broken, etc.)?
2. Determine the size in which M.I.'s poem is written. Tsvetaeva "Who is created from stone, who is created from clay ..." (give an answer in nominative case without specifying the number of stops).
3. What artistic technique used in the following lines: "Who is made of stone, who is made of clay"; "Through every heart, through every net"?
4. Indicate the name of the stylistic device based on the repetition of the same consonant sounds in the line ("And I'm silver and sparkle!").
5. What is the name of a vivid definition that gives the expression figurativeness and emotionality (“funny foam”, “high foam”, “mortal foam”)?
6. In what works of Russian poets does the theme of inner freedom sound and in what way they are consonant with the poem by M.I. Tsvetaeva?
7. How does it appear inner world lyrical heroine of the poem by M.I. Tsvetaeva? (Justify your answer.)
***
Homesickness! For a long time
Exposed haze!
I don't care at all -
Where all alone
Be on what stones home
Walk with a market purse
To the house, and not knowing that it is mine,
Like a hospital or barracks.
I don't care which ones
Persons bristle captive
Lion, from what human environment
To be repressed - certainly -
In myself, in the unity of feelings.
Kamchatka bear without an ice floe
Where you can’t get along (and I don’t try!),
Where to humiliate is one thing for me.
I will not delude myself with my tongue
Native, his milky call.
I don't care what
Incomprehensible to be met!
(Reader, newspaper tons
Swallower, milker of gossip...)
Twentieth century - he
And I - until every century!
Stunned like a log
Remaining from the alley
Everyone is equal to me, everything is equal to me,
And perhaps the most equal
More familiar than the former - everything.
All signs from me, all meta,
All dates - as if removed by hand:
The soul that was born is somewhere.
So the edge did not save me
My, that and the most vigilant detective
Along the whole soul, the whole - across!
Birthmark will not be found!
Every house is alien to me, every temple is empty to me,
And everything is the same, and everything is one.
But if on the way - a bush
It rises, especially the mountain ash ...
May 3, 1934 (: A. B. Freindlikh reads the poem)
1. In the lines “Stunned, like a log left from the alley”, a technique is used in which one phenomenon is clarified by correlating it with another phenomenon. Name this trick.
2. Name the means of artistic representation that conveys the emotional attitude of the author to various life phenomena (“captive”, “sharp-sighted”).
3. What is the name of the consonance of poetic lines (for example, in the first stanza: “for a long time - equal”, “haze - lonely”)?
4. In the phrases “native language”, “milky call”, the word being defined is in front of the definition, which helps to highlight the image, enhance its emotional impact. What technique is used in these cases?
5. What symbolizes in Tsvetaeva's poem “Longing for the Motherland! For a long time ... "a rowan bush and which of the Russian poets Silver Age sound nostalgic?
Lyrical hero in the work of Tsvetaeva
Later, a hero will appear in Tsvetaeva's poetry, who will pass through the years of her work, changing in the secondary and remaining unchanged in the main: in her weakness, tenderness, unsteadiness in feelings. The lyric heroine is endowed with the features of a meek, devout woman.
Russia as a national element is revealed in Tsvetaeva's lyrics in various perspectives and aspects - historical and everyday, but above all its figurative incarnations there is, as it were, a single sign: Russia is an expression of the spirit of rebellion, rebelliousness, self-will.
Your follower is inexperienced,
Your whirlwind is a tangler.
Creak under the hoof
Gap yes crybaby.
untraveled path,
Wicked fire. -
Oh, Motherland-Rus,
Unshoeed horse!
At the center of this multi-colored and polyphonic poetic world is the image of a lyrical heroine, equally sharply revealed in its national features - a woman with a "proud look" and a "wandering disposition", the bearer of a "passionate fate", who "doesn't care about anything". This image serves as a core around which Tsvetaeva's dramatized lyrical plots are formed and unfold. The heroine puts on different torches and tries on different costumes. She is a Moscow archer, and the indomitable noblewoman Morozova, and the arrogant panna Marina, and a gypsy in the camp, and the quietest "homeless black woman", a witch-warlock, and most often - a miserable, cautious beauty, the "tavern queen":
Kissed a beggar, a thief, a hunchback,
Walked with all hard labor - nothing!
I don't bother with my scarlet lips.
Leper come - I will not refuse!
Lyrical poems were rare guests in Tsvetaeva's notebooks, but nevertheless, caused by internal necessity, they appeared there. Thus, a kind of ode to the inseparable true friend of the poet - the desk - was created - the cycle "Table", without which not one Tsvetaeva collection can do.
My writing desk!
Thank you for walking
With me in all ways.
Protected me - like a scar ...
………………………………
My writing desk!
Thank you for being trunk
Giving me to become - a table,
Remained - a living trunk! ...
In "Poems to the Orphans" Tsvetaeva with the greatest passion expressed the idea that a person is kept on earth by his need for another. "What for the eye is a rainbow, For the Grass - black earth, For a Man - the need of a Man - in it." This "need", according to Tsvetaeva, is love. - So she returned to her cherished theme ...
Bibliography
Marina Tsvetaeva. Favorites. M., "Enlightenment", 1989, p. 26.
Marina Tsvetaeva. Poems. Poems. M., Pravda publishing house, 1991, p. 319.
Tsvetaeva's poem reveals the deep inner world of the lyrical heroine.
Firstly, she compares herself to "the mortal foam of the sea." The lyrical heroine, like foam, is alive and energetic. When faced with an obstacle, it subsides for a while, but then with renewed vigor it rises in front of difficulties and steadfastly overcomes them.
Secondly, the lyrical heroine is full of vitality, enthusiasm and optimism. Reflecting on the purpose of the poet, she sincerely believes that she can touch the heart of every person and influence him. The lyrical heroine does not consider her fate harsh: on the contrary, she goes her way with joy and love.
Thus, the lyrical heroine of Tsvetaeva's poem is a strong, unshakable and faithful person who meets any trials with a smile on her face.
___________________________________________
The theme of inner freedom is heard in many works of Russian poets.
For example, in a poem by A.S.
Pushkin "The Prisoner". The lyrical heroes of both poems identify themselves with natural images that most accurately personify them. personal qualities. However, the lyrical hero of The Prisoner, unlike Tsvetaeva's work, is "in a damp dungeon" and therefore limited in his physical freedom.
Also, this theme sounds in Lermontov's poem "Sail". Inner world lyrical hero, as in the work of Tsvetaeva, is transmitted by comparing it with another image. However, if Tsvetaeva's poem is imbued with joy and optimism, then in Lermontov's "Sail" feelings of loss and loneliness prevail. (Alas! He does not seek happiness // And does not run away from happiness!)
Thus, in many works of Russian poets there is a theme of inner freedom, but each author portrays it in his own way.
Updated: 2018-03-25
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