Урания

by Joseph Brodsky, Иосиф Бродский

Сборники стихотворений Иосифа Бродского (1940-1996) "Остановка в пустыне" (1970), "Часть речи", "Конец прекрасной эпохи" (1977), "Новые стансы к Августе" (1983), "Урания" (1987) и "Пейзаж с наводнением" (1996) были опубликованы в 1970-1990-е годы в американском издательстве "Ардис". Над составлением этих книг работал сам поэт в сотрудничестве с его друзьями Карлом и Эллендеей Проффер, основателями "Ардиса". В этом легендарном издательстве, как и в издательствах "Посев" и "IMCA-Press", много лет выходили произведения русской литературы, которые не могли увидеть свет в Советском Союзе. Бродский писал о Карле Проффере: "Он вернул русской литературе непрерывность развития и тем самым восстановил ее достоинство... он спас многочисленных русских писателей и поэтов от забвения, от искажения их слова, от нервной болезни и отчаяния. Более того, он изменил сам климат русской литературы". В сборник "Урания", представленный в настоящем издании, вошли стихотворения 1970-1980-х годов.

Genres: Poetry, Russia, Russian Literature, Classics, Fiction, Nobel Prize, Literature

224 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1987

About the author

Joseph Brodsky (Russian: Иосиф Бродский] was a Russian-American poet and essayist. Born in Leningrad in 1940, Brodsky ran afoul of Soviet authorities and was expelled from the Soviet Union in 1972, settling in America with the help of W. H. Auden and other supporters. He taught thereafter at several universities, including Yale, Columbia, and Mount Holyoke. Brodsky was awarded the 1987 Nobel Prize in Literature "for an all-embracing authorship, imbued with clarity of thought and poetic intensity." A journalist asked him: "You are an American citizen who is receiving the Prize for Russian-language poetry. Who are you, an American or a Russian?" Brodsky replied: "I'm Jewish; a Russian poet, an English essayist – and, of course, an American citizen." He was appointed United States Poet Laureate in 1991.

Reviews

[Jonfaith · Rating 3 out of 5]

One may rattle the keys, gurgle down a swallow.
Loneliness cubes a man at random.

This wasn't as transportive as the earlier collections I enjoyed. One of my favorite anecdotes from the Brodsky biography was that he and John Le Carre were having lunch when Brodsky was informed that he'd won the Nobel Prize for Literature. Brodsky feigned nonchalant. There's a grace in that moment. This collection hovers about Venice, the parallels it strikes with St Petersburg, a miasma of modernism crashing onto tradition and expulsion.

[Sarah · Rating 4 out of 5]

An impulse decision grabbed from my neighbor's giveaway pile. Pretty perfect for a long stretch of hours on a warm day by the Chesapeake Bay. Will be perfect in many other circumstances.

[Illiterate · Rating 2 out of 5]

Disappointing. Brodsky’s ideas can seem superficial and/or trite. His language can seem opaque and/or heavy.

[Czarny Pies · Rating 3 out of 5]

As an instrument for poetry, English is a banjo. The Slavic languages are violins and Russian is the Stradivarius. Anyone who is old enough to have studied Latin in secondary school will understand why this is so. As in Latin, the nouns decline which means that poetry can be written in natural language. Suffice to say that the magic of poetry written in one Slavic language can only be rendered into another Slavic language. The translator endeavouring to render Russian into English is beaten before he or she can begins.

In this volume, Brodsky makes a bad situation worse by doing his own translations. He may convey what he wants to say better than anyone else but his instincts fail him as far as touching the English reader.

The first section of the book "To Urania" is particularly dreadful. Among other things, Brodsky manages to make the city of Venice fell mundane. All in all, Brodsky's English verse is as desolate as Svetlana Alexievich's prose. I recommend "To Urania" only for those with a desperate compulsion to plunge themselves into Soviet era gloom.

Things pick up dramatically in "Gorbunov and Gorchakov" which is a stunning collection of conversations
between a Tweedledee and a Tweedledum incarcerated in a pre-Glasnost psychiatric hospital. The improvement is likely due to the fact that the translation has been written by a native English speaker, Harry Thomas. "Gorbunov and Gorchakov" has all the rage and energy of Allan Ginsburg's "Howl". The joys of reading it amply compensated for the pain inflicted by "To Urania". One could legitimately choose to put aside "To Urania" and read only "Gorbunov and Gorchakov"

[حسن · Rating 3 out of 5]

"To Urania" is a collection of forty-six poems written over a period of 25 years. It includes his well-known poem "Gorbunov and Gorchakov", and "To Urania", which was unsurprisingly my favourite text:

"Everything has its limit, including sorrow.
A windowpane stalls a stare.
Nor does a grill abandon a leaf.
One may rattle the keys, gurgle down a swallow.
Loneliness cubes a man at random.
A camel sniffs at the rail with a resentful nostril;
a perspective cuts emptiness deep and even.
And what is space anyway if not the
body's absence at every given
point? That's why Urania's older than sister Clio!
In daylight or with the soot-rich lantern,
you see the globe's pate free of any bio,
you see she hides nothing, unlike the latter.
There they are, blueberry-laden forests,
rivers where the folk with bare hands catch sturgeon
or the towns in whose soggy phone books
you are starring no longer; farther eastward surge on
brown mountain ranges; wild mares carousing
in tall sedge; the cheekbones get yellower
as they turn numerous. And still farther east, steam
dreadnoughts or cruisers,
and the expanse grows blue like lace underwear."


On a different note, I highly recommend Brodsky's short manifesto on the art of translation of the Russian poetry to the English language, it highlights the stylistic transformations and transfigurations of post-Symbolism and Acmeism movements precisely, Anna Akhmatova's poetry translation by Kunitz and Hayward being his case study. This article has taught me a lot and never was the reading of Poetry been the same afterwards.
Brodsky's article was published by the NY Review
http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archi...

I rated the book with three stars because I am not comfortable with English, which is naturally a linguistic obstacle and challenging when trying to appreciate the depth of some of the texts [ and so I have re-read some of them in French, the translation is excellent].

[Old Man JP · Rating 5 out of 5]

An excellent collection of marvelous poems. Many were originally written in Russian and later translated into English by Brodsky, the rest were written in English. The poems that stood out most to me were:
"The Berlin Wall Tune" a magnificent depiction of the destructive wall.
"The Fly" a nine page humorous tribute to the house fly.
"Slave, Come to my Service" demonstrates the dependency the "master" has on his slave to agree with everything he says.

[michal k-c · Rating 2 out of 5]

Brodsky — maybe not for me. Modernism confronts tradition all too tidily here leaving a lot feel anachronistic and not in a fun-to-read way. Will have to try some other collections sometime

[mộng nguyên · Rating 4 out of 5]

And what is space, anyway, if not for the absence of body at every given point?

[Scott Cox · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Everything has its limit, including sorrow." Thus begins the poem "To Urania" penned by Russian born Nobel Laureate Joseph Brodsky. Perhaps one of Brodsky's greatest sorrows was being charged with "parasitism" by Soviet authorities in 1964. The following transcript dialogue of his trial is worth recounting: "Judge: And what is your profession, in general? Brodsky: I am a poet and a literary translator. Judge: Who recognizes you as a poet? Who enrolled you in the ranks of poets? Brodsky: No one. Who enrolled me in the ranks of humankind? Judge: Did you study this? Brodsky: This? Judge: How to become a poet. You did not even try to finish high school where they prepare, where they teach? Brodsky: I didn’t think you could get this from school. Judge: How then? Brodsky: I think that it ... comes from God." Subsequently Brodsky was deported to the United States. Russia's loss was certainly our gain! (Another favorite poem in this collection is "The Hawk's Cry in Autumn").

[Uladzislau · Rating 3 out of 5]

В сборнике в основном представлены стихотворения 70-80-х годов, написанные Бродским в эмиграции. Очень выпукла видна эволюция от гениального поэта к гениальному версификатору. Похоже, к середине 70-х годов Бродский полностью исчерпал круг волновавших его тем, писать стало не о чем, и он начал бесконечные многостраничные вариации с бесконечным обсасыванием двух слов "пространство" и "время", и как они "переходят друг в друга". Поэт умер раньше, чем человек. Так часто бывает. Но Бродский взобрался максимально высоко, отчего его последующее его нисхождение удручает и уязвляет очень сильно.

[Maria Gubini · Rating 4 out of 5]

Вечер. Развалины геометрии...
Развивая Платона.
Шведская музыка.
На виа Джулиа.

Пока вот так.

[Nott · Rating 5 out of 5]

источник любви превращает в объект любви

боюсь дня, когда я дочитаю все сборники бродского

[Hadrian · Rating 3 out of 5]

7/10

[Sportsman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Especially Venice and the one about half-smoked cigs (papéroz)

[Нестор · Rating 4 out of 5]

Гениальные стихи соседствуют с провальными. Рифма "небо - треба", оказывается, придумана не мной. Несколько необязательных матов и недораскрытых образов. В общем, Бродский вполне традиционен. Эпатажен, гениален, ленив.

[Viktoria · Rating 5 out of 5]

Один из лучших сборников любовной лирики. Очень личный для автора и очень близкий для меня.

[madziar · Rating 4 out of 5]

Niniejszy przekład jest oparty o rosyjski wybór "Uranija" samego autora z 1987 roku.
Część pierwsza, "Jesienny krzyk jastrzębia", to zbiór refleksji o wchłanianych w siebie w trakcie życia obrazach, które nas poruszyły w tych szczególnych momentach, gdy staramy się wyjść poza siebie. Obrazy te - pomimo upływu lat i wciąż nowych sytuacji, przechowujemy jako pamięć miejsc minionych i bezwiednie się nimi dzielimy z otoczeniem. Kolejne wersy brzmią jak modlitwa, by niewinność wybaczyła doświadczeniu. Jest tu też refleksja o tym rodzaju niegodziwości, któremu ludzie odebrali prawo do nazwy, jest to zło, które się stało, lecz świadomość tego ujawnia się wyłącznie w odsłonach słabej natury ludzkiej, przez co krzywda nigdy się nie zakończy, zaważy na całym dalszym życiu i odbierze jakąkowiek nadzieję na pokutę i przebaczenie.
Część druga, "Do Uranii", odkrywa najstarszą z Muz jako opiekunkę samotności. Przestrzeń jest tu nieobecnością ciała w każdym innym punkcie niż ten, który określa stałość. Jest panią nadwrażliwości, w której skupienie na pojedynczym nieszczęściu rozmywa kontury całości. Wszystko ma swój kres, w efekcie wokół nas pozostaje tylko opuszczona strefa, zapomniana rysa na kamieniu. Niepamięć miękko zasłoni bezkres ludzkich marzeń, wzruszeń, wielkich tragedii i małych radości. Pozostanie poezja, którą i tak niewielu ludzi czyta. A pozostanie dlatego, że w takich właśnie warunkach rodzi się ekloga; bo zapowiedź ostatecznego krachu słychać już teraz - wystarczy sobie uświadomić, że nie ma i nie będzie innego jutra, jest tylko dzisiaj, do tego trzeba... przywyknąć. Nasze dzisiaj to nasze jutro. A najlepiej zawsze opisujemy brak.
Ostatnia część, "Życie w rozproszonym świetle", to pochwała życia, miłości, stworzeń i natury. Takiej natury, która obserwuje krwawiącą codzienność człowieka, który wiele widział i nie ma zbyt wielu złudzeń, a pomimo to szepcze w najstraszniejszych momentach tylko dziękczynienie. Jednostka, w świecie przerośniętym ludzkością.

[Kate · Rating 3 out of 5]

I know this stuff makes my husband faint, and it's got more fiber to it than many poems I've read in my day, but kill me, I just don't feel it. Sorry. Maybe I'll like it better in Russian but - seriously, like I'm really going to make the effort? Snuh.

[Vitta · Rating 4 out of 5]

Есть вещи просто шедевральные, есть не очень. А может быть под настроение все эти стихи будут "улёт".

[Obetta Maurice · Rating 5 out of 5]

My favourite pieces are To Urania and Gorbunov and Gorchakov. A beautiful collection

[Gary McDowell · Rating 2 out of 5]

I appreciate the craft, the superior intellect, etc, but it's just not for me.