Poetry and Art, Pushkin and Briullov

 Aleksandr (Sergeyevich) Pushkin
(1799-1837)
above portrait of pushkin by

Alexander Vereinov

He was a Russian 19th century author who often has been considered his country's greatest poet and the founder of modern Russian literature. Pushkin blended Old Slavonic with vernacular Russian into a rich, melodic language. He was the first to use everyday speech in his poetry. Pushkin's Romantic contemporaries were Byron (d. 1824), who he admired and was influenced by and Goethe (d. 1832), but his ironic attitude can be connected to the literature of the 18th century, especially to Voltaire. Pushkin wrote some 800 lyrics with a dozen narrative poems.

Aleksandr Pushkin was born in Moscow into a cultured but poor aristocratic family. On his father's side he was descended from an ancient noble family and on his mother's side he was a great-great-grandson of a black Abyssinian, Gannibal, who served under Peter the Great.
Pushkin himself had black hair and swarthly complexion. In his childhood the future poet was entrusted to nursemaids, French tutors, and governesses. He learned Russian from household serfs and from his nanny, Arina Rodionovna. Pushkin started to write poems from an early age. His first published poem was written when he was only 14.
In 1817 he accepted a post at the foreign office at St. Petersburg. He became associated with members of a radical movement who participated later in the Decembrist uprising in 1825. Several of Pushkin's liberal friends were involved in the affair. Some of them were hanged or exiled for life to Siberia, but Pushkin apparently did not take part in their conspiracy; and he was absent in the south at the time of the insurrection. In May 1820 Pushkin was banished from the town because of his political poems, among them 'Ode to Liberty'. However, his friends did not consider him a political person. Pushkin was transferred south to Ekaterinoslav; it was a mild form of exile. During this time Pushkin discovered the poetry of Lord Byron. He was then moved to Kishinev, and in the summer of 1823 to Odessa. Count Vorontsoff, governor of Odessa, did not have high opinions about the poet: "... he is really only a weak imitator of a not very respected model – Lord Byron." (much he knew!!!)
To read more of this go here
http://www.kirjasto.sci.fi/puskin.htm

THOUGHTS
(in original language)

Брожу ли я вдолъ улиц шумных,
Вхожу лъ во многолюдный храм,
Сижу лъ меж юношей безумных,
Я предаюсъ моим мечтам.
Я говорю: промчатся годы,
И сколко здесъ ни видно нас,
Мы все сойдём под вечны своды,
И чей-нибудъ уж близок час.
Глажу лъ на дуб уединённый,
Я мыслу: патриарх лесов
Переживёт мой век забвенный,
Как пережил он век отцов.
Младенца лъ милово ласкаю,
Уже я думаю: прости!
Тебе я место уступаю:
Мне время тлетъ, тебе цвести.
Денъ каждый, каждую годину
Привык я думой провождатъ,
Градущей смерти годовщину
Меж их стараясъ угадатъ.
И где мне смертъ пошлёт судъбина?
В бою ли, в странствии, в волнах?
Или соседняя долина
Мой примет охладелый прах?
Н хотъ бесчуственному телу
Равно повсюду истлеватъ,
Но ближе к милому пределу
Мне всё б хотелосъ почиватъ.
И пустъ у гробовово входа
Младая будет жизнъ игратъ,
И равнодушнаяа природа
Красою вечною сиятъ.
 

Thoughts;By Pushkin
(English translation)

If I walk the noisy streets,
Or enter a many thronged church,
Or sit among the wild young generation,
I give way to my thoughts.
I say to myself: the years are fleeting,
And however many there seem to be,
We must all go under the eternal vault,
And someone's hour is already at hand.

When I look at a solitary oak
I think: the patriarch of the woods.
It will outlive my forgotten age
As it outlived that of my grandfathers'.

If I dandle a young infant,
Immediately I think: farewell!
I will yield my place to you,
For I must fade while your flower blooms.
Each day, and every hour
I habitually follow in my thoughts,
Trying to guess from their number
The year which brings my death.

And where will fate send death to me?
In battle, in my travels, or on the seas?
Or will the neighbouring valley
Receive my chilled ashes?

And although to the senseless body
It is indifferent wherever it rots,
Yet close to my beloved countryside
I still would prefer to rest.

And let it be, beside the grave's vault
That young life forever will be playing,
And impartial, indifferent nature
Eternally be shining in beauty.

ART WORK BY RUSSIAN ARTIST
Karl Pavlovich Briullov
(1799-1852)
self portrait

When Briullov was born in 1799, the Neoclassical style in Russia was still dominant, but the period of its greatest productivity and popularity was over. Perhaps this influenced Briullov's early distaste for the return to classicism; at any rate, despite his education at the St. Petersburg Academy of Arts (1809-1821), Briullov never fully embraced the style taught by the Academy. After distinguishing himself as a promising and imaginative student and finishing his education, he left Russia for Rome. Here he worked until 1835 as a portraitist and genre painter, though his fame as an artist came when he got involved in historical painting. His most famous work, The Last Day of Pompeii (1830-1833), created a sensation in Italy and established Briullov as one of the finest painters of his day.
 To find out more about this artist go here http://www.abcgallery.com/B/briullov/briullovbio.html

And to finish in the mood;
PICTURES OF RUSSIA
(a little colour enhanced!)
 Tchaikovsky Sleeping Beauty.

delete reply lauritasita wrote on Jul 16, '09 I enjoyed the artwork along with this interesting poem.Yours posts are always so beautiful. Thanks.

delete reply sylvie1 wrote on Jul 15, '09 WONDERFUL, THANK YOU. http://sylvie1.multiply.com/journal/item/853/POETRY_WEDNESDAY_..._DREAMS

delete reply sweetpotatoqueen wrote on Jul 14, '09 Life goes on long after we are gone..it's the cycle of nature that certainly reminds us how small we are in the big scheme of things. Very interesting history here..thank you for sharing with us all.

delete reply sugarpiehuny wrote on Jul 14, '09 Thanks Loretta, enjoyed thevpoet and the artist!

delete reply kwika wrote on Jul 14, '09 yes a fabulous poet

delete reply caffeinatedjo wrote on Jul 14, '09 forgetmenot525 said We must all go under the eternal vault, And someone's hour is already at hand. I'd say his thoughts are pretty sobering ;).

delete reply acousticeagle wrote on Jul 13, '09 He does look 'swarthy' in the painting heading your blog. I don't know any writings by Pushkin, didn't read any of his during school. I do remember reading Checkov's 'Uncle Vanya' and being bored to death. But Pushkin, from the reading of the poem, seems something to give some further consideration to. So thanks for the 'intro'.

delete reply hedgewitch9 wrote on Jul 13, '09 Fabulous post as usual Loretta, thank you :)))

edit delete reply forgetmenot525 wrote on Jul 13, '09 bennett1 said I studied Russian my first 2 years in college and was in Russia summer 1969. oh I am impressed !!!would love to go to Russia just nipped out to the garden centre so guess Ill be in the garden for a few hours now

delete reply bennett1 wrote on Jul 13, '09 One of my favorite poems, again I am picky and don't like the translation, but it shows his moody side. Let us drink, dearest friend To my poor wasted youth. Let us drink from grief - Where's the glass? Our hearts at least will be lightened. Sing me a song of how the bluetit Quietly lives across the sea. Sing me a song of how the young girl Went to fetch water in the morning. The storm wind covers the sky Whirling the fleecy snow drifts Now it howls like a wolf, Now it is crying, like a lost child. Let us drink, dearest friend To my poor wasted youth. Let us drink from grief - Where's the glass? Our hearts at least will be lightened. I studied Russian my first 2 years in college and was in Russia summer 1969.

edit delete reply forgetmenot525 wrote on Jul 13, '09 bennett1 said studied Pushkin when I was in Russia and he was one of my favorites. Some would say melancholy perhaps, or comtemplative. Apparently he did this translation? you studied Russian??? oh I am sooooo impressed, clever you. I don't know who did the translation, I didn't mean to make it look as if it was his own translation

Comment deleted at the request of the author.

edit delete reply forgetmenot525 wrote on Jul 13, '09 Is this just me being fanciful ot do I see a physical resemblance to Byron?? I know Pushkin greatly admired Byron and some say he was the Russian Byron of the time, there are so many similarities, both descended from aristocracy, both harbouring revolutionary ideals, both dark broody and in some ways mysterious..........what do you think?? I think they are physically similar

delete reply starfishred wrote on Jul 13, '09 wonderful loretta just wonderful

delete reply bennett1 wrote on Jul 13, '09 I studied Pushkin when I was in Russia and he was one of my favorites. Some would say melancholy perhaps, or comtemplative. Apparently he did this translation? I am surprised as it is different in some ways from his style in Russian. For example, Брожу, which starts the first two lines, is more correctly translated as "I wander (through)"; here the translator has it as two different words, "I walk" and "enter". Changes it a bit, but I may be getting too literal here. The translator, Pushkin or another, wished to keep the poetry of the language. I think he wrote the great work "Yevgheny Onegin" if I am wrong my Russian teachers will come to tell me