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À pleine voix. Anthologie poétique 1915-1930
Fils d'un forestier géorgien, Vladimir Maïakovski avait une allure de bûcheron, et c'est avec une énergie de cette nature qu'il va s'attaquer à la poésie de son temps. Né en 1894, il publie ses premiers textes en 1912. Il adhère alors au futurisme qui lui paraît seul capable de remplacer le symbolisme et l'acméisme dont les raffinements aristocratiques l'ennuient, et peut-être même, l'écœurent. Après la révolution d'Octobre, il s'engage à corps littéralement perdu, avec la volonté de créer un nouvel art révolutionnaire et, plus précisméent pour ce qui le concerne, de forger un langage accessible aux masses. Désormais, ses écrits vont suivre le cours politique des choses, avec petits et grands événements, difficultés et triomphes. Le poète et le citoyen militant deviennent en lui inséparables.
La poésie de Maïakovski rompt avec les règles rigides de la prosodie, son vers prend les intonations du langage courant, mais en inventant une scansion qui porte les mots de la rue jusqu'à une sorte d'incandescence ou de frénésie. «Un poète, affirme-t-il, doit développer son propre rythme, abandonnant iambes et mesures canonisées, qui ne lui appartiennent pas en propre. Le rythme magnétise et électrise la poésie ; chaque poète doit trouver le sien ou les siens.»
Cette nouvelle poétique, Maïakovski la voit comme un grand travail, et même une «industrie». Cet effort prométhéen, il va le tenir des années durant, les poèmes-fleuves succédant aux poèmes-fleuves, les récitals enfiévrés succédant aux voyages à travers l'URSS et le monde. Jusqu'au suicide soudain du 14 avril 1930, jour où l'élan révolutionnaire n'est plus assez fort pour sauver du naufrage un impossible amour.
La poésie de Maïakovski rompt avec les règles rigides de la prosodie, son vers prend les intonations du langage courant, mais en inventant une scansion qui porte les mots de la rue jusqu'à une sorte d'incandescence ou de frénésie. «Un poète, affirme-t-il, doit développer son propre rythme, abandonnant iambes et mesures canonisées, qui ne lui appartiennent pas en propre. Le rythme magnétise et électrise la poésie ; chaque poète doit trouver le sien ou les siens.»
Cette nouvelle poétique, Maïakovski la voit comme un grand travail, et même une «industrie». Cet effort prométhéen, il va le tenir des années durant, les poèmes-fleuves succédant aux poèmes-fleuves, les récitals enfiévrés succédant aux voyages à travers l'URSS et le monde. Jusqu'au suicide soudain du 14 avril 1930, jour où l'élan révolutionnaire n'est plus assez fort pour sauver du naufrage un impossible amour.
464 pages, Paperback
Published November 17, 2005
13 people are currently reading
104 people want to read
About the author
Vladimir Mayakovsky
507 books635 followersVladimir Mayakovsky (Владимир Владимирович Маяковский) was born the last of three children in Baghdati, Russian Empire (now in Georgia) where his father worked as a forest ranger. His father was of Ukrainian Cossack descent and his mother was of Ukrainian descent. Although Mayakovsky spoke Georgian at school and with friends, his family spoke primarily Russian at home. At the age of 14 Mayakovsky took part in socialist demonstrations at the town of Kutaisi, where he attended the local grammar school. After the sudden and premature death of his father in 1906, the family — Mayakovsky, his mother, and his two sisters — moved to Moscow, where he attended School No. 5.
In Moscow, Mayakovsky developed a passion for Marxist literature and took part in numerous activities of the Russian Social Democratic Labour Party; he was to later become an RSDLP (Bolshevik) member. In 1908, he was dismissed from the grammar school because his mother was no longer able to afford the tuition fees.
Around this time, Mayakovsky was imprisoned on three occasions for subversive political activities but, being underage, he avoided transportation. During a period of solitary confinement in Butyrka prison in 1909, he began to write poetry, but his poems were confiscated. On his release from prison, he continued working within the socialist movement, and in 1911 he joined the Moscow Art School where he became acquainted with members of the Russian Futurist movement. He became a leading spokesman for the group Gileas (Гилея), and a close friend of David Burlyuk, whom he saw as his mentor.
The 1912 Futurist publication A Slap in the Face of Public Taste (Пощёчина общественному вкусу) contained Mayakovsky's first published poems: Night (Ночь) and Morning (Утро). Because of their political activities, Burlyuk and Mayakovsky were expelled from the Moscow Art School in 1914.
His work continued in the Futurist vein until 1914. His artistic development then shifted increasingly in the direction of narrative and it was this work, published during the period immediately preceding the Russian Revolution, which was to establish his reputation as a poet in Russia and abroad.
Mayakovsky was rejected as a volunteer at the beginning of WWI, and during 1915-1917 worked at the Petrograd Military Automobile School as a draftsman. At the onset of the Russian Revolution, Mayakovsky was in Smolny, Petrograd. There he witnessed the October Revolution.
After moving back to Moscow, Mayakovsky worked for the Russian State Telegraph Agency (ROSTA) creating — both graphic and text — satirical Agitprop posters. In 1919, he published his first collection of poems Collected Works 1909-1919 (Все сочиненное Владимиром Маяковским). In the cultural climate of the early Soviet Union, his popularity grew rapidly. As one of the few Soviet writers who were allowed to travel freely, his voyages to Latvia, Britain, Germany, the United States, Mexico and Cuba influenced works like My Discovery of America (Мое открытие Америки, 1925). He also travelled extensively throughout the Soviet Union.
The relevance of Mayakovsky's influence cannot be limited to Soviet poetry. While for years he was considered the Soviet poet par excellence, he also changed the perceptions of poetry in wider 20th century culture. His political activism as a propagandistic agitator was rarely understood and often looked upon unfavourably by contemporaries, even close friends like Boris Pasternak. Near the end of the 1920s, Mayakovsky became increasingly disillusioned with the course the Soviet Union was taking under Joseph Stalin: his satirical plays The Bedbug (Клоп, 1929) and The Bathhouse (Баня, 1930), which deal with the Soviet philistinism and bureaucracy, illustrate this development.
On the evening of April 14, 1930, Mayakovsky shot himself.
In Moscow, Mayakovsky developed a passion for Marxist literature and took part in numerous activities of the Russian Social Democratic Labour Party; he was to later become an RSDLP (Bolshevik) member. In 1908, he was dismissed from the grammar school because his mother was no longer able to afford the tuition fees.
Around this time, Mayakovsky was imprisoned on three occasions for subversive political activities but, being underage, he avoided transportation. During a period of solitary confinement in Butyrka prison in 1909, he began to write poetry, but his poems were confiscated. On his release from prison, he continued working within the socialist movement, and in 1911 he joined the Moscow Art School where he became acquainted with members of the Russian Futurist movement. He became a leading spokesman for the group Gileas (Гилея), and a close friend of David Burlyuk, whom he saw as his mentor.
The 1912 Futurist publication A Slap in the Face of Public Taste (Пощёчина общественному вкусу) contained Mayakovsky's first published poems: Night (Ночь) and Morning (Утро). Because of their political activities, Burlyuk and Mayakovsky were expelled from the Moscow Art School in 1914.
His work continued in the Futurist vein until 1914. His artistic development then shifted increasingly in the direction of narrative and it was this work, published during the period immediately preceding the Russian Revolution, which was to establish his reputation as a poet in Russia and abroad.
Mayakovsky was rejected as a volunteer at the beginning of WWI, and during 1915-1917 worked at the Petrograd Military Automobile School as a draftsman. At the onset of the Russian Revolution, Mayakovsky was in Smolny, Petrograd. There he witnessed the October Revolution.
After moving back to Moscow, Mayakovsky worked for the Russian State Telegraph Agency (ROSTA) creating — both graphic and text — satirical Agitprop posters. In 1919, he published his first collection of poems Collected Works 1909-1919 (Все сочиненное Владимиром Маяковским). In the cultural climate of the early Soviet Union, his popularity grew rapidly. As one of the few Soviet writers who were allowed to travel freely, his voyages to Latvia, Britain, Germany, the United States, Mexico and Cuba influenced works like My Discovery of America (Мое открытие Америки, 1925). He also travelled extensively throughout the Soviet Union.
The relevance of Mayakovsky's influence cannot be limited to Soviet poetry. While for years he was considered the Soviet poet par excellence, he also changed the perceptions of poetry in wider 20th century culture. His political activism as a propagandistic agitator was rarely understood and often looked upon unfavourably by contemporaries, even close friends like Boris Pasternak. Near the end of the 1920s, Mayakovsky became increasingly disillusioned with the course the Soviet Union was taking under Joseph Stalin: his satirical plays The Bedbug (Клоп, 1929) and The Bathhouse (Баня, 1930), which deal with the Soviet philistinism and bureaucracy, illustrate this development.
On the evening of April 14, 1930, Mayakovsky shot himself.
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Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews
May 2, 2024
il a trop kiffe sur les alineas c est de la folie d autant alineater
July 19, 2019
Если заменить 3-4 стихотворения на другие, получился бы сборник в 500 страниц моих самых любимых строк Маяковского.
- и целая улица падает ниц!
- и целая улица падает ниц!
October 29, 2023
Восхитительно, великолепно, Лиля Брик can CHOKE, Маяковский получает от меня мысленный поцелуй в лоб и слёзное: "Товарищ!.."
January 21, 2025
J’avais déjà lu un peu le recueil après l’avoir acheté, il y a quelques années. Direct j’étais tombée love des pulsions lyriques pour dire l’idéologique.
Mais j’avais feuilleté, et lu au hasard quelques-uns des poèmes. Cette fois-ci j’ai eu à le lire intégralement pour un devoir et merci Isadora F. parce que sans ta consigne je serai passé à côté de la vision complète de l’oeuvre.
La lecture a été totalement différente de ma première. C’est peut-être le recueil le plus linéaire et cyclique que j’ai lu. Peut-être parce que Vladimir construit des poèmes très longs. Peut-être parce qu’ils suivent les événements historiques vécus. Ou bien parce que la forme du vers fixe évolue peu à peu en bazar fragmentaire.
J’ai adoré l’audace de À Lénine. Et La flûte de vertèbres. Et De ceci. Et la vision de l’amoureux tragique.
Petit kiff : « C’est déjà la folie.
Il ne se passera rien du tout.
La nuit viendra,
mordillera,
croquera tout d’une traite.
Vous voyez,
le ciel nous agace à nouveau
avec son lot d’étoiles éclaboussées par les traitres. »
Bref, finalement j’ai jamais rendu mon devoir, mais j’ai adoré relire Maïakovski.
Mais j’avais feuilleté, et lu au hasard quelques-uns des poèmes. Cette fois-ci j’ai eu à le lire intégralement pour un devoir et merci Isadora F. parce que sans ta consigne je serai passé à côté de la vision complète de l’oeuvre.
La lecture a été totalement différente de ma première. C’est peut-être le recueil le plus linéaire et cyclique que j’ai lu. Peut-être parce que Vladimir construit des poèmes très longs. Peut-être parce qu’ils suivent les événements historiques vécus. Ou bien parce que la forme du vers fixe évolue peu à peu en bazar fragmentaire.
J’ai adoré l’audace de À Lénine. Et La flûte de vertèbres. Et De ceci. Et la vision de l’amoureux tragique.
Petit kiff : « C’est déjà la folie.
Il ne se passera rien du tout.
La nuit viendra,
mordillera,
croquera tout d’une traite.
Vous voyez,
le ciel nous agace à nouveau
avec son lot d’étoiles éclaboussées par les traitres. »
Bref, finalement j’ai jamais rendu mon devoir, mais j’ai adoré relire Maïakovski.
January 27, 2021
"Per noi, l'amore non è paradiso terrestre,
a noi, l'amore annunzia ronzando che di nuovo è stato messo in marcia il motore raffreddato del cuore".
"Bisogna strappare la gioia ai giorni futuri. In questa vita non è difficile morire, vivere è di gran lunga più difficile".
a noi, l'amore annunzia ronzando che di nuovo è stato messo in marcia il motore raffreddato del cuore".
"Bisogna strappare la gioia ai giorni futuri. In questa vita non è difficile morire, vivere è di gran lunga più difficile".
August 23, 2025
incroyable il est trop fort!!!!! quand il raconte la mort de Lénine j'avais des frissons de partout.
Ça faisait longtemps que je voulais le lire et je suis pas déçue.
A lire avec connaissance du contexte historique (révolution soviétique, URSS, internationale communiste).
Poète qui a mis fin a des jours très jeune (37 ans), dont la vie a été marquée par son amour pour Lili Brick (sœur d'Elsa Triolet - compagne d'Aragon). C'est Elsa qui a participé à le faire connaître en France à l'époque.
Ça faisait longtemps que je voulais le lire et je suis pas déçue.
A lire avec connaissance du contexte historique (révolution soviétique, URSS, internationale communiste).
Poète qui a mis fin a des jours très jeune (37 ans), dont la vie a été marquée par son amour pour Lili Brick (sœur d'Elsa Triolet - compagne d'Aragon). C'est Elsa qui a participé à le faire connaître en France à l'époque.
March 7, 2026
"Forse di questa età,
di questi giorni piú acuti
che baionette e pugnali,
quando i secoli saranno canuti,
resteremo soltanto tu ed io,
che t’inseguirò di città in città.
Ti nasconderai in grembo all’ombra,
ti rapiranno oltre fiumi e canali:
io ti bacerò traverso alle brume di Londra
con le labbra di fuoco dei fanali."
In Majakovskij la rivoluzione non soffoca il lirismo: nella sua poesia pulsante e febbrile si aprono improvvise oasi di veemente passione.
di questi giorni piú acuti
che baionette e pugnali,
quando i secoli saranno canuti,
resteremo soltanto tu ed io,
che t’inseguirò di città in città.
Ti nasconderai in grembo all’ombra,
ti rapiranno oltre fiumi e canali:
io ti bacerò traverso alle brume di Londra
con le labbra di fuoco dei fanali."
In Majakovskij la rivoluzione non soffoca il lirismo: nella sua poesia pulsante e febbrile si aprono improvvise oasi di veemente passione.
April 3, 2022
Ça n'aura malheureusement pas été le coup de coeur que j'attendais.
February 14, 2023
Très chouette mais la trad semblait un peu lourde parfois... Malheureusement je ne lis pas encore le russe
July 31, 2024
absoluement incroyable, 15 000 est particulièrement bien ainsi que la lettre au bolchevik
July 14, 2012
Un fumo di tabacco ha divorato l' aria La stanza e' un capitolo dell'inferno di Krucennych. Ricordati - Proprio a questa finestra per la prima volta Estasiato accarezzavo le tue mani. Eccoti oggi seduta, Il cuore chiuso dentro una corazza. Ancora un giorno e poi mi scaccerai Magari anche imprecando alle mie spalle. Nella buia anticamera la mano nella manica Pi� non stenter� a entrare disfatta dal tremore. Correr� via E getter� il mio corpo sulla strada. Selvatico animale Impazzir� Sotto una sferza di disperazione. Ma cos� non si deve, Mia cara, Mia diletta, Meglio lasciarci ora. Non importa - Il mio amore E' un pesante macigno Che incombe su di te Ovunque tu possa fuggirmi. Lascia in un grido estremo che si sfoghi L'amarezza dei lamenti e del rancore. Quando anche un bue � disfatto di fatica Lui pure andr� a gettarsi In fredde acque in cerca di ristoro. Ma altro mare non c'� per me Tranne il tuo amore, N� tregua c'� in amore anche nel pianto. Se un elefante stanco vorr� pace Si stender� maestoso sull' infuocata sabbia. Ma altro sole non c'� per me Tranne il tuo amore, Bench� io non so tu dove o con chi sei. Se cos� se ne fosse tormentato Dell' amore - un poeta In soldi e gloria l'avrebbe mutato, Ma altro suono non c'� Che mi dia gioia Tranne che il suono del tuo nome beato. E non mi getter� gi� nella tromba delle scale E non berr� il veleno N� premer� il grilletto dell'arma sulla tempia. E non c'� lama di coltello che Abbia su me potere Tranne che sia la lama del tuo sguardo. Tu scorderai domani Che io t'incoronavo, Che d'un ardente amore l'anima ti bruciavo, E un carnevale effimero di frenetici giorni Disperder� le pagine dei miei piccoli libri... Le secche foglie delle mie parole Potranno mai indurre uno a sostare, A respirare con avidit�? Almeno lascia che un'estrema tenerezza Copra l'allontanarsi Dei tuoi passi. 26 Maggio 1916 Pietrogrado
February 4, 2013
Pur essendo la poesia russa molto diversa dalle caratteristiche solite di quella occidentale, i versi di Majakovskij si affermano in tutta la loro potenza
October 29, 2020
Неожиданный! Отличный!
Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews