Winterpoem 20/21

by Maria Stepanova, Olga Radetzkaja (Translator)

Der Ausbruch der Covid-Pandemie setzte im März 2020 einem Aufenthalt Maria Stepanovas im britischen Cambridge ein Ende. Zurück in Russland, verbrachte sie die folgenden Monate in einem Zustand der Erstarrung – die Welt hatte sich vor ihr zurückgezogen, die Zeit war »ertaubt«. Als sie aus diesem Zustand auftauchte, begann sie Ovid zu lesen. Motive fanden zueinander, die lange in ihr gewartet hatten. Wie schon in Der Körper kehrt wieder verwandelt sie historische und aktuelle Kataklysmen in ein ungemein feingliedriges, bewegliches Gebilde aus Rhythmen und Stimmen. Das Poem, das in einer rauschhaften poetischen Inspiration entstand, spricht vom Winter und vom Krieg, von Verbannung und Exil, von sozialer Isolation und existentieller Verlassenheit. Stepanova findet grandiose Bilder für das wenn etwa Worte, die wir einander zurufen, in der Luft gefrieren und unser Gegenüber nicht mehr erreichen. Das Werk verwebt Liebesbriefe und Reiseberichte, chinesische Verse und dänische Märchen in eine vielstimmige Beschwörung der gefrorenen und langsam auftauenden Zeit.

Genres: Poetry, Russia, Russian Literature

88 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 2021

About the author

Maria Mikhailovna Stepanova is a Russian poet, novelist, and journalist. She is the current editor of Colta.ru, an online publication specializing in arts and culture. In 2005, she won the prestigious Andrei Bely Prize for poetry.

Reviews

[mmasjam · Rating 5 out of 5]

Очень учёные стихи. Стихи-ребус, но не холодные, как у Бродского, например, а очень нервные и поэтому человечные. Мое любимое - про Ариадну, а ещё про замёрзшие слова, тающие за щекой как кусок рафинада

[Víctor Bermúdez · Rating 3 out of 5]

Wo jedes Wort in der Luft gefriert.

[Svenja · Rating 4 out of 5]

Winterpoem formt durch schwierige, manchmal mir nicht schlüssige und doch einzigartige Gedichte, ein wunderbares Gesamtkonzept, das ich nach 10 Seiten nicht mehr weglegen konnte.
Wie sie selbst schreibt, ist dieses Poem eine Art Puzzle und mir ist es an vielen Stellen schwer gefallen, dieses zu lösen.
Die Schlüsselkomponente des Winters wird immer wieder aufgegriffen und symbolisch angewendet.
Insgesamt eine sehr anspruchsvolle, aber doch schöne Leseerfahrung.

[Sofya Tselishcheva · Rating 5 out of 5]

Боль и холод
Очень точно. И при этом снова мой тип мышления - не могу описывать свою жизнь, не используя цитаты, не скрещивая тексты друг с другом.
Поразительно, как вовремя сейчас попадают мне в руки правильные книги

[Björn H · Rating 3 out of 5]

Med pandemin som fond släpper Maria Stepanova lös röster och rytmer i Vinterrit 20/21. Det är mångfacetterat, bitvis svåröverskådligt och en smula brokigt. Jag känner först att det är till diktens nackdel, men samtidigt: det beskriver pandemitiden, Ryssland vid tidpunkten, blandat med hennes egna influenser. Stämningen i boken passar plötsligt bra. Kanske håller den inte i längden - vem vet hur litteratur från pandemiåren kommer att hålla över tid? - men just här och just nu fungerar det. Hennes milt vanvördiga hantering med de gamla grekerna roar, liksom de tvära kasten mellan högt och lågt. På en sida heter det:

Hade jag nåt i skallen, då tänkte jag på lagerträdet
Därhemma i regnet, på ett upplyst fönster,
På Roms alla tavernaskyltar,
Tills näsan rann av gråt och garum.

Längre ner, i samma strof, hittar vi plötsligt, återigen om de gamla grekerna:

Jobbiga miffon, kan ni lämna min skalle eller,
Halta bort på era ojämna versfötter
Mot närmaste klassikerbibliotek, om de nu släpper in er.
Er tunga ligger stum i min mun.

Stepanovas eget förord ger en bra kontext till hennes liv vid tidpunkten för pandemins utbrott, var hon befann sig och - i förlängningen - hur dikten blev till.

Till sist: Jag kan inte ryska och kan inte jämföra med originalet, men Ida Börjels och Nils Håkansons översättning andas lekfullhet med språket och stor tonsäkerhet.

[Airam · Rating 4 out of 5]

During a public reading of poems from this book, which wonderfully concatenates dozens of works and authors one never expected to see put together, I once asked Stepanova how she came to choose what references to use and how she went about incorporating them in her poetry. Unsurprisingly, she replied there was no method to this. She said she has always had a problem with having to choose what is interesting or not (this much is noticeable in In Memory of Memory), and that she tries perhaps to eliminate this choice.
She also said something rather counterintuitive. In this reading, where both herself and Sasha Dugdale (her kindred translator) read so beautifully that the poems became much, much more striking than they ever seemed to me on paper, there had been a discussion about what the role of poetry was in times of catastrophy, in this case, first the pandemic, now war. Stepanova could not give an answer to this and did not try to, leading a deliberately aporetical discussion. While listening to Sasha read one of the poems, though, her body gave a small jerk, and she said she was ready to give an answer. What poetry should do in dark times, she said, is become a translation. In translation, poetry provided a space for another existence. In listening to Sasha, she felt that in the poem, a state of utter aloneness, she discerned another presence, and that was the best the poem could aspire for in dark times.

[Courtney LeBlanc · Rating 4 out of 5]

A book-length poem that meanders and loses the reader...themes of the pandemic (COVID), fairy tales, love, and other random topics that aren't held together in the poem.

"There was once a hare, and once a vixen / And they lived by the deep blue sea. / First they lived in an ancient dugout / But then they both built homes // The vixen built a home of ice / And I've heard the hare's was of mica / Built from timid hare-tears / and sad cabbage saliva // And so they lived in harmony, hare and fox / On holy days they set off fireworks"

"I remember everything just as it was / And even that today is poetry day in the City. / I've lost the art myself: poems are the toys of the fortunate / Who like to play at misfortune."

[harlow · Rating 4 out of 5]

short but perfect, i really really love this and will check out more of the author’s work. i always see in memory of memory at bookstores but now i really wanna pick it up. the back cover of this book mentioned tsvetaeva, plath, and carson and i immediately bought it. god the pandemic was such a weird time and whilst i can’t personally relate to being so close to the russia/ukraine conflict i still related to many aspects of experiencing lockdown, the way that Time felt, as well as onlooking war in current times and the past, at how history felt and the concept of the the future felt during that period.

[Eddie Rosato · Rating 2 out of 5]

Really disappointed in this one. I LOVED in memory of memory but this poetry was borderline unbearable to me at times. I found myself dozing off and skimming through several poems and not a thing stuck for me. It somehow simultaneously felt too naive and pretentious. She often gives off the tone of a wise poet and a skilled practitioner of the craft yet somehow falls into structural repetition and cliched phrasing which perhaps could specifically be a translation issue. Giving two stars because maybe just maybe something was lost in translation…praying this is not the case since I also have a copy of “war of the beasts”.

[Hadley · Rating 5 out of 5]

Stepenova’s poetry is a time capsule of the COVID winter season- it recalls the feelings of isolation, confusion, and chilliness. Holy Winter is an engrossing experience that hypnotizes the reader into a malaise that will feel familiar. Smart and well-crafted, this is a good addition to a winter reading list. A great book to have when flu season hits!

[Showering · Rating 4 out of 5]

Abandonment & exile

[Ella · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really lovely poetry to read in the depths of winter. I was particularly into the riffing on the Heroides and the letters of Ovid.

[Olya Grigoreva · Rating 5 out of 5]

любимая теперь поэма у Степановой

[Fina · Rating 3 out of 5]

2,5-3 stars

[Maria · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mindestens eine 3.5. Werde es vermutlich höher bewerten, wenn ich es nochmal - und davor alles von Ovid - gelesen habe.