Representative selections from the great Russian poets of the nineteenth century, chosen by the uniquely qualified Nobel Laureate Joseph Brodsky. "Brodsky's commendable selections offer many of the best-loved and oft-memorized poems of the Russian people." - Library Journal
I feel I’d like to be alone with you, friend, if you’ll stay: my time on earth is nearly gone…
Yes, I am biased.
I am also aware that I am reviewing this obscure book of Russian poetry and no one will read these words apart from like one friend who follows me on here (hi Maya), so I can say whatever the fuck I want.
I haven’t been able to read anything for quite some time. Yes, I’ve still been reading in that GoodReads will show no notable gaps in my Year in Books, but I haven’t been reading. My eyes would float over the words and I’d understand them, sure, but I wouldn’t absorb any of it. It’s been horrible, a depressive bout has left me unable to take any joy in an activity I love so much. I’ve sleepwalked through these past months without any word from a book, no matter how beautiful it may be, managing to get through and comfort me.
Until I read this.
Safe to say I never really got old poetry before. And by old I mean poetry like pre-1920. Which is very closed-minded of me, but here we are. I’d read the old gothic classics like Poe and a bit of Shelley and enjoy it, but I never properly understood it before.
But man, this collection got me. I found myself reading it and the words would affect me in a way no words from a book have affected me in a while. It’s difficult to explain why really, but I think Joseph Brodsky himself puts it best in his foreword:
This literature…was also the product of singular friendships. It grew out of supper conversations, morose card games, letters, brawls, the sharing of servants, mistresses, or an opera box, as much as from the common knowledge of Greek and Latin classics, fascination with the Enlightenment and the French Revolution, worship of Lord Byron and the reading of Karamzin.
This book was given to me by a friend (after we went through a semi-traumatic experience together but that’s neither here nor there), and as I read these poems I found myself reading my friend in the pages. The palpable emotion and lyrical imagery reminded me of their own style of writing and how it makes me feel. These poets talking about art and friendship and the cold embrace of winter reminded me of our own conversations. Hell, all of it is a reminder that I have a friend who cares enough to buy me poetry because they know it’s something I love.
In summary, I have no idea how good these poems are. All I know is I really fucking love my friend and therefore I really fucking love this book.
I picked this up when I was an undergraduate English major immersed in classic works, particularly of the 19th century. This short collection captures the particular morbidity of that era, as well as the passion of the romantics and the personal made grand. The examples in this collection are short, and therefore on more simple themes, and after reading the short biographies included of each poet, one is left wanting to see more examples of the great lyrical poems and patriotic or revolutionary themes given as proof of their greatness. Presumably the great works were left out of this volume due to length. However, if one is to get an introduction to the great Russian poets, one would hope to see the best examples of their work, not just the short pieces about a winter's day or brief thoughts on death or other moments of navel-gazing. As an anthology this volume is far from exhaustive, but is ideal as an introduction to the milieu, a toe dipped in the water.
A beautiful selection of Russian poetry from those most well-known to those few have ever heard, save for those familiar with Russian literature. A must-read for anyone who loves Russian poetry.