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Poesie
Viktor Zirmunskij sosteneva che la poesia di Anna Achmàtova derivava da Puskin, ma non dalle sue liriche, bensì dalla prosa. E questa una delle chiavi per accostarsi all'opera della Achmàtova. Dei suoi versi molti lodano la fedeltà a una certa concezione della poesia, in cui l'abbandono è sempre compensato dall'intervento della razionalità. In questa antologia sono raccolte poesie tratte da Sera, Rosario, Stormo bianco, Piantaggine, La canna, Luna allo Zenit, Libro sesto, Fiorisce la rosa di macchia, I segreti del mestiere, scritte tra il 1909 e il 1965 (un anno prima della morte) qui disposte per lo più secondo l'ordine cronologico e non secondo i temi, come usava la stessa Achmàtova. Vi si susseguono vicende personali, sentimentali, episodi della vita quotidiana, echi delle due guerre. La Achmàtova faceva parte di una società in rapida evoluzione socioeconomica, ma allo stesso tempo arretrata come quella di Nicola II, in cui però gli spazi di libertà conquistati dalla donna potevano apparire ampi, in realtà erano circoscritti. Non a caso l'Achmàtova è il primo nome femminile di rilievo che appaia nella storia della letteratura russa.
- GenresPoetry
158 pages, Paperback
Published April 12, 2018
1 person is currently reading
11 people want to read
About the author
Anna Akhmatova
432 books978 followersalso known as: Анна Ахматова and Anna Ajmátova
Personal themes characterize lyrical beauty of noted work of Russian poet Anna Akhmatova, pseudonym of Anna Andreevna Gorenko; the Soviet government banned her books between 1946 and 1958.
People credit this modernist of the most acclaimed writers in the canon.
Her writing ranges from short lyrics to universalized, ingeniously structured cycles, such as Requiem (1935-40), her tragic masterpiece about the Stalinist terror. Her work addresses a variety of themes including time and memory, the fate of creative women, and the difficulties of living and writing in the shadow of Stalinism. She has been widely translated into many languages, and is one of the best-known Russian poets of 20th century.
In 1910, she married the poet, Nikolay Gumilyov, who very soon left her for lion hunting in Africa, the battlefields of World War I, and the society of Parisian grisettes. Her husband did not take her poems seriously, and was shocked when Alexander Blok declared to him that he preferred her poems to his. Their son, Lev, born in 1912, was to become a famous Neo-Eurasianist historian.
Nikolay Gumilyov was executed in 1921 for activities considered anti-Soviet; Akhmatova then married a prominent Assyriologist Vladimir Shilejko, and then an art scholar, Nikolay Punin, who died in the Stalinist Gulag camps. After that, she spurned several proposals from the married poet, Boris Pasternak.
After 1922, Akhmatova was condemned as a bourgeois element, and from 1925 to 1940, her poetry was banned from publication. She earned her living by translating Leopardi and publishing essays, including some brilliant essays on Pushkin, in scholarly periodicals. All of her friends either emigrated or were repressed.
Her son spent his youth in Stalinist gulags, and she even resorted to publishing several poems in praise of Stalin to secure his release. Their relations remained strained, however. Akhmatova died at the age of 76 in St. Peterburg. She was interred at Komarovo Cemetery.
There is a museum devoted to Akhmatova at the apartment where she lived with Nikolai Punin at the garden wing of the Fountain House (more properly known as the Sheremetev Palace) on the Fontanka Embankment, where Akhmatova lived from the mid 1920s until 1952.
Personal themes characterize lyrical beauty of noted work of Russian poet Anna Akhmatova, pseudonym of Anna Andreevna Gorenko; the Soviet government banned her books between 1946 and 1958.
People credit this modernist of the most acclaimed writers in the canon.
Her writing ranges from short lyrics to universalized, ingeniously structured cycles, such as Requiem (1935-40), her tragic masterpiece about the Stalinist terror. Her work addresses a variety of themes including time and memory, the fate of creative women, and the difficulties of living and writing in the shadow of Stalinism. She has been widely translated into many languages, and is one of the best-known Russian poets of 20th century.
In 1910, she married the poet, Nikolay Gumilyov, who very soon left her for lion hunting in Africa, the battlefields of World War I, and the society of Parisian grisettes. Her husband did not take her poems seriously, and was shocked when Alexander Blok declared to him that he preferred her poems to his. Their son, Lev, born in 1912, was to become a famous Neo-Eurasianist historian.
Nikolay Gumilyov was executed in 1921 for activities considered anti-Soviet; Akhmatova then married a prominent Assyriologist Vladimir Shilejko, and then an art scholar, Nikolay Punin, who died in the Stalinist Gulag camps. After that, she spurned several proposals from the married poet, Boris Pasternak.
After 1922, Akhmatova was condemned as a bourgeois element, and from 1925 to 1940, her poetry was banned from publication. She earned her living by translating Leopardi and publishing essays, including some brilliant essays on Pushkin, in scholarly periodicals. All of her friends either emigrated or were repressed.
Her son spent his youth in Stalinist gulags, and she even resorted to publishing several poems in praise of Stalin to secure his release. Their relations remained strained, however. Akhmatova died at the age of 76 in St. Peterburg. She was interred at Komarovo Cemetery.
There is a museum devoted to Akhmatova at the apartment where she lived with Nikolai Punin at the garden wing of the Fountain House (more properly known as the Sheremetev Palace) on the Fontanka Embankment, where Akhmatova lived from the mid 1920s until 1952.
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Displaying 1 of 1 review
November 20, 2019
Oggi ti faccio grazia
Di doni inconsueti a questo mondo:
Della mia immagine sull'acqua
Nell'ora d'insonnia del fiume alla sera,
Dello sguardo che alla stella cadente
Non giovò a ritornare [...].
Di doni inconsueti a questo mondo:
Della mia immagine sull'acqua
Nell'ora d'insonnia del fiume alla sera,
Dello sguardo che alla stella cadente
Non giovò a ritornare [...].
Displaying 1 of 1 review