The Absolute Gravedigger, published in 1937, is in many ways the culmination of Vítězslav Nezval’s work as an avant-garde poet, combining the Poetism of his earlier work and his turn to Surrealism in the 1930s with his political concerns in the years leading up to World War II. It is above all a collection of startling verbal and visual inventiveness. And while a number of salient political issues emerge from the surrealistic ommatidia, Nezval’s imagination here is completely free-wheeling and untethered to any specific locale as he displays mastery of a variety of forms, from long-limbed imaginative free verse narratives to short, formally rhymed meditations in quatrains, to prose and even visual art (the volume includes six of his decalcomania images).
Together with Nezval's prior two collections, The Absolute Gravedigger forms one of the most important corpora of interwar Surrealist poetry. Yet here his wild albeit restrained mix of absolute freedom and formal perfection has shifted its focus to explore the darker imagery of putrefaction and entropy, the line breaks in the shorter lyric poems slicing the language into fragments that float in the mind with open-ended meaning and a multiplicity of readings. Inspired by Salvador Dalí’s paranoiac-critical method, the poems go in directions that are at first unimaginable but continue to evolve unexpectedly until they resolve or dissolve – like electron clouds, they have a form within which a seemingly chaotic energy reigns. Nezval’s language, however, is under absolute control, allowing him to reach into the polychromatic clouds of Surrealist uncertainty to form shapes we recognize, though never expected to see, to meld images and concepts into a constantly developing and dazzling kaleidoscope.
One of the most prolific avant-garde Czech writers in the first half of the twentieth century and a co-founder of the Surrealist movement in Czechoslovakia.
This volume of Nezval's poetry stems from the four year period where he was running the Czech group of surrealists, yet the surrealism of the poems in the book doesn't come full-blown, but is prepared step by step.
In the beginning there are lots of verbal still-life pictures, idyllic with a good dosage of humour and lightness. Timeless beauty, I would say, though I probably only feel so because this kind of countryside beauty is just a memory from the past and long-gone. Those poems and their mood comes not very astonishing if one knows Nezval's earlier work, yet it stands in stark contrast with the collection's title, "The absolute undertaker". Well, when the "spotaneous conrete irrational ideas", as Nezval comments himself, become wilder, the imagery also gets a bit darker: "The whole complicated picture / shows a petrified Sodom / which is eroded by the drunken finger of denudation." You see, there's more and more digging going on, digging to the grounds of the human condition, by way of the "necessity that is expressed with the help of chance". What binds the more sober and the more drunken poems together is the visuality of Nezval's poetry. (Actually, to enforce that even more, there are some paintings of Nezval reproduced in the book as well.) And in a short prose part towards the end Nezval explains the means of his creation. It reminds very much of a Rorschach test. Well, whatever the creative process was, it's the result that counts. This is an excellent volume of poetry, containing a lot of (our) world.
A beautiful book to hold and to read. Nezval's writing is beautiful (or rather, the English translation of Nezval's original Czech is beautiful). There are several earlier collections of Nezval that are wooden and rough. Though Nezval wrote at times with political intent, oftentimes I missed his point. I enjoyed reading the poems for the surreal assembly of words which provided a fresh perspective. The translators' afterword provides a history of Nezval, the surrealist movement in Czechoslovakia, and Nezval's importance to, not just as a national literary figure, but as a broader, international, or, at least, European, artist. I do wish the decalcomania images were (somehow) reproduced larger and in more detail. Nezval's poetic imagery of women seems limited. This, in turn, limits his appeal.
Read the Afterword before you begin on this one. It provides some crucial context for Nezval's personal and political perspective and the time in which he wrote his poems. Wish I'd read it before I began.
Nezval's poetry depicts a beautiful world in rapid decay, with grotesque, unsettling imagery colored by fairy tale backdrop and permeated by a sense of nauseous foreboding. It's helpful to know that the writing was done just before the Nazi invasion of Czechoslovakia and as Nezval's relationship with members of the French surrealist troupe was going sour.
I can imagine Nezval investing hours to study scenes in the between-world-wars life that he encountered, grimacing at the intricately absurd normalcy of it all, before committing any words to ink. The poems in The Absolute Gravedigger read as if Nezval took a quick mental snapshot of the abstract visuals around him, then went off into a corner somewhere with a bucket of beers to explore the potential narrative of each detail that would inexorably send him on a bender.
What I cannot imagine is how mind-bending it surely was to translate this book from Czech to English... the English vocabulary is so rich in translation that the original Czech must have been like peeling back the layers of an onion found all these years later, somehow preserved, in the depths of the Mariana Trench.
This is the third volume of a Surrealist poetry (mostly) trilogy, each employing a different guiding principle to its creation, as Nezval explains in his "Decalcomania" text. For The Absolute Gravedigger, it was the paranoiac-critical method (as opposed to the objective chance and automatic association of the first two volumes). It is interpretive delirium at its finest.
Hezká sbírka velmi dobrých básní, kdy básník spoustou netypických a překvapivých (ale většinou pro čtenáře pochopitelných) přirovnání popisuje místa, osoby, události... nevidím v tom nějakou velkou intelektuální hodnotu ale bylo to esteticky velmi příjemné, zastavilo to člověka v okamžiku a s některými přirovnání/metafory si básník opravdu mistrně pohrál (zvlášť když do zdánlivě nesouvisejících kontextů tahal erotiku... holt Nezval :D )
Mnohdy mi ale sbírka přišla příliš natahovaná. Některá přirovnání při popisu osob/míst působila až příliš tlačeně, jako by autor nutně chtěl mít báseň delší* a části Stínohry a Bizarní Městečko ačkoliv zprvu bavili velmi rychle začali býti spíše otravnými, měli zbytečně mnoho částí ... tato dvě dlouhá procesí básní o ničem pak způsobila, že už mě kniha jako taková začala nudit a poslední dvě části (ačkoliv nejspíš dobré) už na mne neudělali příliš velký dojem, protože jsem je nebyl schopen číst s takovým zaujetím s jakým jsem četl první stránky knihy.
*Jsem četl, že by to bylo zamýšleno jako parodie na tendence tehdejší poezie... Nevím jak moc je tato informace pravdivá... tak jako tak je to věc, kterou bohužel nejsem jako čtenář moc schopen ocenit.
Poetry isn't exactly in my wheelhouse, but I'm trying to understand it more, to grasp its nuances and the tools of its trade. I'm not there yet, but this certainly was an exceptional book. Poetry in translation has other layers of comprehension to get through, and you can never be sure, unless you read the original, how far the translation strayed or, on the contrary, remained faithful.
I didn't read the original, but really enjoyed these poems. Perhaps it was because I enjoy Surrealism, perhaps the author and the translator clicked. In the end the result was highly readable and entertaining. Perhaps I am a wee bit closer to grasping poetry then...
As one of the leading figures of the Czech Surrealist movement, Nezval was a prolific, diverse writer. The poems in this book range from formal bucolic verse to freewheeling scenes straight out of a painting by Bruegel or Bosch. Most terrifying is the final poem, The Iberian Fly, which, when it was composed in the mid-1930s clearly warns against the racist sentiment spreading through Europe. Sadly t feels as if it could have been written today. For my full review see: https://roughghosts.com/2016/11/20/co...
I highly recommend reading a book of poetry or short stories as a break in between novels. You must take the pieces in small doses for it to work I think. I went back to this collection for a span of months and initially I didn't connect with it but by the final section ("The Iberian Fly") it was totally worth it.
A handsome edition of vibrant, evocative poems. Nezval is as significant for surrealism as Breton and Eluard. With the publication of this volume Nezval's work will be more widely available, which is a good thing.
A truly essential collection. This is a prophetic, powerful and awe-inspiring book. A must-read for anyone interested in surrealism and Central European literature.