Ts was born on September 26, 1892 in Moscow and always felt like the child of a city “rejected by Peter.” Her childhood was “better than a fairy tale” - it was spent in a difficult family. His father is an art critic on a European scale, the founder and director of the Museum of Fine Arts, his mother is a student of Rubinstein, a rare gifted student in music. At the age of 16, Ts began publishing. Before the revolution in Russia, three books of her poems were published: "Evening Album" (1910), "Magic Lantern" (1912) and "From Two Books" (1913). In the 1920s, two books with the same title were published "Versts", where the lyrics of 1914-1921 were collected. WITH From the very beginning of her creative career, Ts did not recognize the word “poetess” in relation to herself, calling herself “poet Marina Tsvetaeva.” The external events of pre-revolutionary history had little impact on her poetry. Much later she will say that “the poet hears only his own, sees only his own, knows only his own.” The First World War and the Revolution affected her insofar as they affected the fate of her husband and children. In addition to the tragedies of life in the first years of the revolution (the unknown fate of her husband, domestic instability, hunger, the death of little Irina), Ts also experiences a creative drama: both of her books "Versts" turned out to be misunderstood by readers, even Osip Mandelstam, who loved and deeply appreciated Ts, spoke more than harshly about her poems in the article “Literary Moscow” (he emphasized the untimeliness of subjective lyrical poetry in the era of historical cataclysms). All this increased Ts’s feeling of his own uselessness in Russia. But main reason her emigration was a desire to reunite with her husband. The harsh fate of S. Ya. Efron served as the impetus for the creation "Swan Camp" a cycle of poems dedicated to the White Army. This cycle is not a hymn to the white movement, but a requiem for its doomed sacrifice, a requiem for the husband’s sorrowful journey. In emigration, Ts was painfully lonely - without Russia and Russian land, outside the emigrant environment. Her break with the Russian emigration was due to the fact that she defended the highest truth of the poet - his right to be above the fray, to poetic honesty. Ts does not curse the revolution. Moreover, in a 1932 article "The Poet and Time" she expressed a surprisingly objective thought for a person of her fate about the all-encompassing influence of the revolution on Russian culture, Russian poetry, on the life and creative path of Russian poets of the 20th century: The question arose about returning to Russia. Ts understood what difficulties awaited her in her homeland, but still decided to return. In one of her poems from 1939, she has a presentiment: “The sailing of Mary Stuart has been given to me.” Like the tragic Queen of Scotland, Ts - unnecessary, an exile - on June 12, 1939, sailed from France to her homeland to face troubles and death. The husband and daughter were arrested. Goslitizdat is delaying a book of poems. “Prosperous” poets make ironic remarks at her, refusing any help. Blok, Gumilyov, Yesenin, Mayakovsky and Mandelstam are no longer alive. As in the years of “war communism,” there is nothing to live on. With the beginning of the Great Patriotic War Ts was completely confused, she was afraid that she would not be able to feed her son. At the beginning of August, she and a group of writers went to a small town on the Kama River, Elabuga. Ts was ready to do anything just to get at least some work. On August 26, she wrote an application to the Literary Fund with a request to hire her as a dishwasher. But this too was denied to her. On August 31, 1941, the great Russian poet Ts voluntarily passed away. In one of the suicide notes there are the lines: “Forgive me - I couldn’t stand it.” In 1934, one of the program articles of Ts was published "Poets with history and poets without history." In this work, she divides all word artists into two categories. The first includes poets of “arrows”, i.e. thoughts and developments that reflect changes in the world and change with the movement of time - these are “poets with history”. The second category of creators is “pure lyricists”, poets of feeling, “circle” - these are “poets without history”. She considered herself and many of her beloved contemporaries, primarily Pasternak, to be the latter. One of the features of the “poets of the circle,” according to Ts, is lyrical self-absorption and, accordingly, detachment from both real life and historical events. True lyricists, she believes, are closed in on themselves and therefore “do not develop.” feeling unity of life and creativity One of the main features - self-sufficiency, creative individualism and even egocentrism. The early awareness of the confrontation between the poet and “the rest of the world” was reflected in the work of the young Ts in the use of her favorite receiving contrast. This is the contrast of the eternal and the momentary, being and being: someone else’s (“not mine”) charms are “doubtful” because they are someone else’s, therefore, “my” charms are true. This straightforward opposition is complicated by the fact that it is complemented by the contrast of darkness and light (“dark and menacing melancholy” - “blonde head”), and the source of the contradictions and the bearer of the contrast turns out to be the heroine herself. The uniqueness of Tsvetaeva’s position - and that her lyrical heroine is always absolutely identical to the personality of the poet. Poetry is, first of all, a challenge to the world. The tragedy of the loss of the homeland results in emigrant poetry in contrasting itself - Russian - with everything non-Russian and therefore alien. The individual “I” here becomes part of the single Russian “we”, recognizable “by our overly large hearts.” But main confrontation in the world C is eternal confrontation between the poet and the mob, creator and tradesman. C asserts the creator’s right to his own world, the right to creativity. Emphasizing the eternity of confrontation, she addresses history, myth, legend, filling them with your own feelings and your own worldview. This is how a poem is born "Pied Piper" The plot of which is based on a German legend, which, under the poet’s pen, received a different interpretation - the struggle between creativity and philistinism. Ts’s poetry is characterized by a wide emotional range; Ts’s poetry is built on the contrast of the colloquial or folklore speech element used (her poem “Lane Streets,” for example, is entirely built on the melody of a conspiracy) and complicated vocabulary. Lexical contrast is often achieved by using foreign words and expressions that rhyme with Russian words: 0-de-co-lons Family, sewing Happiness (kleinwenig!) Is the coffee pot taken?.. (Train of Life. 1923).
C is also characterized by unexpected definitions and emotionally expressive epithets. In general, in the poetry of C, the traditions of late romanticism with its inherent techniques come to life. poetic rhetoric. A distinctive feature of Tsvetaeva’s lyrics is the unique poetic intonation, created by the skillful use of pauses, splitting the lyrical flow into expressive independent segments, varying the tempo and volume of speech. Ts's intonation often finds a clear graphic embodiment. Thus, the poetess likes to highlight emotionally and semantically with the help of numerous dashes. meaningful words and expressions, often resorting to exclamation and question marks. Pauses are conveyed using numerous ellipses and semicolons. In addition, the selection of keywords is facilitated by “incorrect” ones from the point of view of tradition transfers, which often fragment words and phrases, intensifying the already intense emotionality: “Blood-silver, silver-Bloody trail double line...”. Understanding her place in Russian poetry, Tsvetaeva does not at all belittle her own merits. So, she naturally considers herself the “great-granddaughter” and “comrade” of Pushkin, if not equal to him, then standing in the same poetic row: But with all the closeness to Pushkin, seen, of course, in Tsvetaev’s subjective way, with the “Pushkin” approach to the theme of death and creativity - Tsvetaeva remains original. Where Pushkin has a bright harmony of wisdom and understanding, she has a tragic discord, anguish, rebellion. Interesting feature: often large themes result in miniature poems, which represent a kind of quintessence of her feelings and lyrical reflections. This poem can be called “Revealed: Unstoppable” (1934), in which both the comparison of the creative act with suicide and the motive of the artist’s eternal conflict with the “flat” world that does not understand him merged. One of the most characteristic states of Tsvetaeva the poet is a state of absolute loneliness. It is caused by constant confrontation with the world, as well as the internal conflict between everyday life and being, characteristic of Tsvetaeva. Tsvetaev’s eternal conflict between the everyday and the existential could not but give rise to romantic dual world in her poetry. Ts did not like her era; she often sought spiritual harmony in turning to the past. In understanding the loneliness of the creator, Ts follows the tradition of Baratynsky, who addressed “the reader in posterity.” But - and this is the uniqueness of C - the position of extreme individualism and self-absorption deprived her of a “friend in a generation.” Russia has always been in her blood - with its history, rebellious heroines, gypsies, churches and Moscow. Far from his homeland, Ts writes many of his most Russian works: poems based on folklore material and the style of folk song speech (“Lane streets.” “Younger”): numerous poems, prose works (“My Pushkin”, “Pushkin and Pugachev”. “Natalia Goncharova. Life and creativity”). Tsvetaeva's Russianness acquires in emigration a tragic sound of loss of homeland, orphanhood: “Through the slums of the earth’s latitudes // They shoved us like orphans.” Excommunication from the homeland, according to C, is fatal for a Russian: “Doctors recognize us in the morgue // By our excessively large hearts.” The tragedy of Tsvetaev’s longing for Russia is intensified by the fact that the poet again yearns for something that has not come true, for “That Russia is gone, // Just like that Russia is not there.” All of Tsvetaeva’s lyrics are essentially lyrics of internal emigration from the world, from life and from oneself. In the 20th century, she felt uncomfortable, she was attracted by the era of the romantic past, and during the period of emigration - by pre-revolutionary Russia. An emigrant for her is “Lost between hernias and lumps // God is in a whorehouse” (Emigrant, 1923).
Marina Tsvetaeva - brightest star poetry of the 20th century. In one of her poems she asked:
"Think about me easily,
It's easy to forget about me."
Many tried to reveal, approve, overturn, and challenge Tsvetaeva’s talent. Writers and critics from Russia abroad wrote differently about Marina Tsvetaeva. Russian editor Slonim was confident that “the day will come when her work will be rediscovered and appreciated and will take its rightful place as one of the most interesting documents of the pre-revolutionary era.” Marina Tsvetaeva’s first poems, “Evening Album,” were published in 1910 and were accepted by readers as the poems of a real poet. But during the same period, Tsvetaeva’s tragedy began. It was a tragedy of loneliness and lack of recognition, but without any taste of resentment or injured vanity. Tsvetaeva accepted life as it was. Since at the beginning of her creative career she considered herself a consistent romantic, she voluntarily surrendered herself to fate. Even when something came into her field of vision, it immediately transformed miraculously and festively, began to sparkle and tremble with some tenfold thirst for life.
Gradually, the poetic world of Marina Tsvetaeva became more complicated. The romantic worldview interacted with the world of Russian folklore. During emigration, Marina Tsvetaeva's poetry absorbs the aesthetics of futurism. In her works, she moves from melodious and spoken intonation to oratorical intonation, which often breaks into a scream or wail. Tsvetaeva futuristically attacks the reader with all poetic devices. Most of the Russian emigration, in particular those living in Prague, responded to her with an unfriendly attitude, although they recognized her talent. But the Czech Republic still remained in the memory of Marina Tsvetaeva as a bright and happy memory. In the Czech Republic, Tsvetaeva finishes her poem “Well done.” This poem was the poetess’s guardian angel; it helped her survive the most difficult times during the initial period of her existence in the depths.
In Berlin, Marina Tsvetaeva works a lot. In her poems one can feel the intonation of hard-won thoughts, weariness and burning feelings, but something new has also appeared: bitter concentration, internal tears. But through melancholy, through the pain of experience, she writes poems filled with selflessness and love. Here Tsvetaeva creates "Sibyl". This cycle is musical in composition and imagery and philosophical in meaning. It is closely connected with her “Russian” poems. During the emigrant period, an enlargement of her lyrics was observed.
It is just as impossible to read, listen, and perceive Tsvetaev’s poems calmly, just as it is impossible to touch exposed wires with impunity. Her poems include a passionate social element. According to Tsvetaeva, the poet is almost always opposed to the world: he is a messenger of the deity, an inspired mediator between people and heaven. It is the poet who is contrasted with the rich in Tsvetaev’s “Praise...”.
The poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva was constantly changing, shifting its usual outlines, new landscapes appeared on it, and different sounds began to be heard. In Tsvetaeva’s creative development, her characteristic pattern invariably manifested itself. “The Poem of the Mountain” and “The Poem of the End” represent, in essence, one poem-dulogy, which could be called either the “Poem of Love” or the “Poem of Parting.” Both poems are a love story, a stormy and brief passion that left a mark on both loving souls for the rest of their lives. Never again did Tsvetaeva write poems with such passionate tenderness, feverishness, frenzy and complete lyrical confession.
After the appearance of The Pied Piper, Tsvetaeva turned from lyricism to sarcasm and satire. Precisely, in this work she exposes the bourgeoisie. During the “Parisian” period, Tsvetaeva thought a lot about time, about the meaning of fleeting compared to eternity human life. Her lyrics, imbued with motifs and images of eternity, time, fate, become more and more tragic. Almost all of her lyrics of this time, including love and landscape ones, are dedicated to Time. In Paris she feels sad and thinks more and more often about death. To understand Tsvetaeva’s poems, as well as some of her poems, it is important to know not only the supporting semantic images-symbols, but also the world in which Marina Tsvetaeva, as a poetic personality, thought and lived.
During her Parisian years, she wrote little lyric poetry; she worked mainly on poems and prose, memoirs and criticism. In the 30s, Tsvetaeva was almost never published - her poems came in a thin, intermittent trickle and, like sand, into oblivion. True, she manages to send “Poems to the Czech Republic” to Prague - they were preserved there like a shrine. This is how the transition to prose took place. For Tsvetaeva, prose, while not being verse, nevertheless represents the most authentic Tsvetaeva poetry with all its other inherent features. In her prose, one can not only see the personality of the author, with her character, passions and manner, well known from poetry, but also the philosophy of art, life, and history. Tsvetaeva hoped that prose would shield her from the emigrant publications that had become unfriendly. The last cycle of poems by Marina Tsvetaeva was “Poems for the Czech Republic”. In them she warmly responded to the misfortune of the Czech people.
And to this day, Tsvetaeva is known and loved by many millions of people, not only here in Russia, but also in many countries around the world. Her poetry has become an integral part of our spiritual life. Other poems seem so old and familiar, as if they have always existed, like a Russian landscape, like a rowan tree by the road, like full moon, flooding the spring garden...
Ministry of Education and Science of the Samara Region
State budgetary educational institution
secondary vocational education
Tolyatti Socio-Economic College
Topic of educational and research work:
"Peculiarities artistic rhetoric M.I. Tsvetaeva."
Discipline: “Literature”.
Head of educational and research work M.P. Ivanova
Completed by E.S. Tikhonova
Group IS-11
Tolyatti
1. Introduction…………………………………………………….…………………3
2. Biography of Tsvetaeva M.A…..……………………………………………………………………4
3. The artistic world of M.I. Tsvetaeva..……………………………………………………….8
3.1. Peculiarities poetic world Tsvetaeva M.I………………………….8
3.2. Techniques of contrast………………………………………………………..10
3.3. The breadth of the emotional range of Tsvetaeva M.I…………………….13
3.4. Techniques of poetic rhetoric of late romanticism in the works of M.I. Tsvetaeva………………………………………………………………………………15
3.5. Features of the poetic syntax of Tsvetaeva M.I…………………17
3.6. Symbolism of M.I. Tsvetaeva……………………………………………………………18
3.7. Peculiarities of the poet’s fate…………………………………………………………….19
4. Conclusion……………………………………………………………………………….22
5. List of sources used…………………………………………..23
1. Introduction
RHETORICS (Greek rhetorike “oratory”), a scientific discipline that studies the patterns of generation, transmission and perception of good speech and quality text.
At the time of its emergence in ancient times, rhetoric was understood only in the literal meaning of the term - as the art of an orator, the art of oral public speaking. A broad understanding of the subject of rhetoric is the property of a later time. Nowadays, if it is necessary to distinguish the technique of oral public speaking from rhetoric in a broad sense, the term is used to denote the first oratorio.
Rhetoric was considered not only the science and art of good oratory, but also the science and art of bringing to good, persuasion of good through speech.
Purpose of the study:
1) identify and describe the potential capabilities of language units implemented in special conditions poetic text.
2) show how the realization of the potential properties of language allows the poet to express artistic means your understanding of the world, your philosophical position.
Object of study: The artistic world and rhetoric, the poetic world of Tsvetaeva M.I.
2. Biography of Tsvetaeva M.A.
Tsvetaeva Marina Ivanovna
Russian poetess.
Born on September 26 (October 8), 1892, in a Moscow family. Father - I. V. Tsvetaev - art professor, founder of the Moscow Museum of Fine Arts named after A. S. Pushkin, mother - M. A. Main (died in 1906), pianist, student of A. G. Rubinstein, grandfather of his half-sister and brother - historian D.I. Ilovaisky. As a child, due to her mother’s illness (consumption), Tsvetaeva lived for a long time in Italy, Switzerland, and Germany; breaks in gymnasium education were made up for by studying in boarding schools in Lausanne and Freiburg. She was fluent in French and German. In 1909 I took a course French literature at the Sorbonne.
The beginning of Tsvetaeva’s literary activity is associated with the circle of Moscow symbolists; She meets V. Ya. Bryusov, who had a significant influence on her early poetry, and the poet Ellis (L. L. Kobylinsky), and participates in the activities of circles and studios at the Musaget publishing house. The poetic and artistic world of M. A. Voloshin’s house in Crimea had an equally significant impact (Tsvetaeva stayed in Koktebel in 1911, 1913, 1915, 1917). In the first two books of poems, “Evening Album” (1910), “Magic Lantern” (1912) and the poem “The Sorcerer” (1914), there is a thorough description of home life (children’s room, “hall”, mirrors and portraits), walks on the boulevard, reading, music lessons, relationships with her mother and sister, the diary of a high school student is imitated (the confessional, diary orientation is accentuated by the dedication of the “Evening Album” to the memory of Maria Bashkirtseva), who in this atmosphere of a “children’s” sentimental fairy tale grows up and joins the poetic. In the poem “On a Red Horse” (1921), the story of the poet’s development takes the form of a romantic fairy-tale ballad.
In the following books, “Versts” (1921-22) and “Craft” (1923), revealing Tsvetaeva’s creative maturity, the focus on the diary and fairy tale remains, but is already transformed into part of an individual poetic myth. In the center of the cycles of poems addressed to contemporary poets A. A. Blok, S. Parnok, A. A. Akhmatova, dedicated to historical figures or literary heroes- Marine Mnishek, Don Juan and others, is a romantic personality who cannot be understood by contemporaries and descendants, but does not seek primitive understanding or philistine sympathy. Tsvetaeva, to a certain extent, identifying herself with her heroes, gives them the possibility of life outside of real spaces and times, the tragedy of their earthly
existence is compensated by belonging to to the higher world soul, love, poetry.
The romantic motifs of rejection, homelessness, and sympathy for the persecuted that are characteristic of Tsvetaeva’s lyrics are reinforced by the real circumstances of the poetess’s life. In 1918-22, together with her young children, she was in revolutionary Moscow, while her husband S. Ya. Efron was fighting in the White Army (poems 1917-21, full of sympathy for the white movement, made up the cycle “Swan Camp”). In 1922, Tsvetaeva’s emigrant existence began (a short stay in Berlin, three years in Prague, and from 1925 in Paris), marked by a constant lack of money, everyday disorder, difficult relations with the Russian emigration, and growing hostility from criticism. The best poetic works of the emigrant period (the last lifetime collection of poems “After Russia” 1922-1925, 1928; “Poem of the Mountain”, “Poem of the End”, both 1926; lyrical satire “The Pied Piper”, 1925-26; tragedies on ancient subjects “Ariadne” , 1927, published under the title “Theseus”, and “Phaedra”, 1928; the last poetic cycle “Poems to the Czech Republic”, 1938-39, was not published during his lifetime, etc.) are characterized by philosophical depth, psychological accuracy, and expressiveness of style.
The confessionalism, emotional intensity, and energy of feeling characteristic of Tsvetaeva’s poetry determined the specificity of the language, marked by the conciseness of thought and the rapidity of the development of lyrical action. Most bright features Tsvetaeva’s original poetics were intonation and rhythmic diversity (including the use of raesh verse, the rhythmic pattern of ditties; folklore origins are most noticeable in the fairy tale poems “The Tsar Maiden”, 1922, “Well done”, 1924), stylistic and lexical contrasts ( from vernacular and grounded everyday realities to the elation of high style and biblical imagery), unusual syntax (the dense fabric of the verse is replete with the “dash” sign, often replacing omitted words), breaking traditional metrics (mixing classical feet within one line), experiments with sound (in including the constant play on paronymic consonances, turning the morphological level of language into poetically significant), etc.
Unlike her poems, which did not receive recognition among the emigrants (Tsvetaeva’s innovative poetic technique was seen as an end in itself), her prose enjoyed success, which was readily accepted by publishers and occupied the main place in her work in the 1930s. (“Emigration makes me a prose writer…”). “My Pushkin” (1937), “Mother and Music” (1935), “House at Old Pimen” (1934), “The Tale of Sonechka” (1938), memories of M. A. Voloshin (“Living about Living”, 1933), M. A. Kuzmine (“An Unearthly Wind,” 1936), A. Bel (“Captive Spirit,” 1934), and others, combining the features of artistic memoirs, lyrical prose and philosophical essays, they recreate Tsvetaeva’s spiritual biography. The prose is accompanied by letters from the poetess to B. L. Pasternak (1922-36) and R. M. Rilke (1926) - a kind of epistolary novel.
In 1937, Sergei Efron, who became an NKVD agent abroad in order to return to the USSR, became involved in a contracted political murder, fled from France to Moscow. In the summer of 1939, following her husband and daughter Ariadna (Alya), Tsvetaeva and her son Georgy (Moore) returned to their homeland. In the same year, both daughter and husband were arrested (S. Efron was shot in 1941, Ariadne was rehabilitated in 1955 after fifteen years of repression). Tsvetaeva herself could not find housing or work; her poems were not published. Finding herself evacuated to the city of Elabuga, now Tatarstan, at the beginning of the war, she unsuccessfully tried to get support from writers.
On August 31, 1941 she committed suicide.
3. The artistic world of M.I. Tsvetaeva
3.1. Features of the poetic world of Tsvetaeva M.I.
In 1934, one of M. I. Tsvetaeva’s program articles, “Poets with history and poets without history,” was published. In this work, she divides all word artists into two categories. The first includes poets of “arrows”, i.e. thoughts and developments that reflect changes in the world and change with the movement of time - these are “poets with history”. The second category of creators is “pure lyricists”, poets of feeling, “circle” - these are “poets without history”. She considered herself and many of her beloved contemporaries, primarily Pasternak, to be the latter.
One of the features of the “poets of the circle,” according to Tsvetaeva, is lyrical self-absorption and, accordingly, detachment from both real life and historical events. True lyricists, she believes, are closed in on themselves and therefore “do not develop”: “Pure lyricism lives by feelings. Feelings are always the same. The feeling has no development, no logic. They are inconsistent. They are given to us all at once, all the feelings that we are ever destined to experience; they, like the flame of a torch, are squeezed into our chest from birth.”
Amazing personal fullness, depth of feelings and power of imagination allowed M. I. Tsvetaeva throughout her life - and she is characterized by a romantic feeling of the unity of life and creativity - to draw poetic inspiration from the boundless, unpredictable and at the same time constant, like the sea, her own soul . In other words, from birth to death, from the first lines of poetry to the last breath, she remained, if you follow her own definition, a “pure lyricist.”
One of the main features of this “pure lyricist” is self-sufficiency, creative individualism and even egocentrism. Individualism and egocentrism in her case are not synonymous with selfishness; they manifest themselves in constant feeling one’s own dissimilarity from others, the isolation of one’s existence in the world of other - uncreative - people, in the world of everyday life. In the early poems, this is the isolation of the brilliant child poet, who knows his truth, from the world of adults:
We know, we know a lot
What they don't know!
(“In the Hall”, 1908-1910)
In youth - the isolation of the “immeasurable” soul in the vulgarized “world of measures”. This is the first step towards creative and everyday antagonism between “I” and “they” (or “you”), between the lyrical heroine and the whole world:
You walking past me
To not my and dubious charms, -
If you knew how much fire there is,
So much life wasted...
...So much dark and menacing melancholy
In my blond head...
(“You, walking past me...”, 1913)
3.2. Contrast techniques
An early awareness of the confrontation between the poet and “the rest of the world” was reflected in the work of the young Tsvetaeva in the use of her favorite technique of contrast. This is the contrast of the eternal and the momentary, being and being: someone else’s (“not mine”) charms are “doubtful”, because they are someone else’s, therefore, “my” charms are true. This straightforward opposition is complicated by the fact that it is complemented by the contrast of darkness and light (“dark and menacing melancholy” - “blonde head”), and the source of the contradictions and the bearer of the contrast turns out to be the heroine herself.
The uniqueness of Tsvetaeva’s position lies in the fact that her lyrical heroine is always absolutely identical to the poet’s personality: Tsvetaeva advocated the utmost sincerity of poetry, therefore, any “I” in poems should, in her opinion, fully represent the biographical “I”, with its moods and feelings and a holistic worldview.
Tsvetaeva's poetry is, first of all, a challenge to the world. She speaks about her love for her husband in an early poem: “I wear his ring with defiance!”; reflecting on the frailty of earthly life and earthly passions, he will passionately declare: “I know the truth! All previous truths are lies!”; in the cycle “Poems about Moscow” she will imagine herself dead and contrast it with the world of the living who are burying her:
Along the streets of abandoned Moscow
I will go, and you will wander.
And not one will be left behind on the way,
And the first lump will crash on the coffin lid, -
And finally it will be resolved
A selfish, lonely dream.
(“A sad day will come, they say!..”, 1916)
In the poems of the emigrant years, Tsvetaeva’s opposition to the world and her programmatic individualism receive a more specific justification: in an era of trials and temptations, the poet sees himself among the few who have preserved the straight path of honor and courage, utmost sincerity and incorruptibility:
Some, without curvatures, -
Life is expensive.
(“For some it is not a law…”, 1922)
The tragedy of the loss of the homeland results in Tsvetaeva’s emigrant poetry in contrasting herself - Russian - with everything non-Russian and therefore alien. The individual “I” here becomes part of the single Russian “we”, recognizable “by our excessively large hearts.” In this “we” the richness of Tsvetaeva’s “I” appears, to which “your Paris” seems “boring and ugly” in comparison with Russian memory:
My Russia, Russia,
Why are you burning so brightly?
(“Luchina”, 1931)
But the main confrontation in Tsvetaeva’s world is the eternal confrontation between the poet and the mob, the creator and the tradesman. Tsvetaeva asserts the creator’s right to his own world, the right to creativity. Emphasizing the eternity of confrontation, she turns to history, myth, and tradition, filling them with her own feelings and her own worldview. Let us remember that the lyrical heroine of Marina Tsvetaeva is always equal to her personality. Therefore, many subjects of world culture included in her poetry become illustrations for her lyrical reflections, and the heroes of world history and culture become a means of embodying the individual “I”.
This is how the poem “The Pied Piper” is born, the plot of which is based on a German legend, which, under the poet’s pen, received a different interpretation - the struggle between creativity and philistinism. This is how the image of Orpheus, torn apart by the Bacchae, appears in the poems - the motive of the tragic fate of the poet, his incompatibility with the real world, the doom of the creator in the “world of measures” is strengthened. Tsvetaeva recognizes herself as an “interlocutor and heir” to the tragic singers:
Blood-silver, silver-
Bloody trail of double lia,
Along the dying Hebra -
My gentle brother! My sister!
("Orpheus", 1921)
3.3. The breadth of the emotional range of Tsvetaeva M.I.
Tsvetaeva's poetry is characterized by a wide emotional range. O. Mandelstam in “A Conversation about Dante” quoted Tsvetaev’s expression “compliance in Russian speech,” elevating the etymology of the word “compliance” to “ledge.” Indeed, Tsvetaeva’s poetry is built on the contrast of the colloquial or folklore speech element used (her poem “Lane Streets,” for example, is entirely built on the melody of a conspiracy) and complicated vocabulary. This contrast enhances the individual emotional mood of each poem. Complication of vocabulary is achieved by including rarely used, often outdated words or word forms that evoke the “high calm” of the past. In her poems there are, for example, the words “mouth”, “eyes”, “face”, “nereid”, “azure”, etc.; unexpected grammatical forms like the occasionalism “liya” that is already familiar to us. The contrast of everyday situations and everyday vocabulary with “high calm” enhances the solemnity and pathos of Tsvetaeva’s style.
Lexical contrast is often achieved by using foreign words and expressions that rhyme with Russian words:
O-de-co-lons
Family, sewing
Happiness (kleinwenig!)
Is the coffee pot taken?..
("Train of Life", 1923)
Tsvetaeva is also characterized by unexpected definitions and emotionally expressive epithets. In “Orpheus” alone there is “receding distance”, “blood-silver, silver-bloody double trail”, “radiant remains”. The emotional intensity of the poem is increased by inversions (“my gentle brother,” “the head slowed down”), pathetic appeals and exclamations:
And the lyre assured: - peace!
And the lips repeated: - sorry!
...But the lyre assured: - past!
And her lips followed: - alas!
...Salty wave, answer!
3.4. Techniques of poetic rhetoric of late romanticism in the works of M. I. Tsvetaeva
In general, in Tsvetaeva’s poetry the traditions of late romanticism with its inherent techniques of poetic rhetoric come to life. In Orpheus, rhetoric enhances the poet's mournful, solemn and angry mood.
True, rhetorical grandeur, usually accompanied by semantic certainty, does not make her lyrics semantically clear or transparent. The dominant personal principle of Tsvetaeva's poetry often changes the semantics of generally accepted expressions, giving them new semantic shades. In "Orpheus" we will meet an unexpected personification of "Along the dying Hebra." Gebr - the river on the banks of which, according to mythological legend, Orpheus died - in the poem takes on part of the author’s emotional state and “dies away”, like a grieving person. The image of a “salty wave” in the last quatrain also acquires an additional “sorrowful” emotional connotation by analogy with a salty tear. Personal dominance is also manifested in the use lexical means: Tsvetaeva often creates unique occasionalisms - new words and expressions to solve one specific artistic problem. Such images are based on commonly used neutral words (“Into the distance, the swaying headboard // Shifted like a crown...”).
The expressiveness of the poem is achieved with the help of ellipsis (ellipsis - omission, default). Tsvetaev’s “torn phrase,” not formally completed by a thought, makes the reader freeze at the height of emotional climax:
So, the stairs descending
River - into the cradle of swells,
So, to the island where it is sweeter,
Than anywhere else the nightingale lies...
And then there is a contrasting break in mood: the mournfully solemn tone of the picture, the “radiant remains” floating “along the dying Hebra,” is replaced by bitterness and angry irony in relation to the world of everyday life, in which no one cares about the death of the singer:
Where are the illuminated remains?
Salty wave, answer!
3.5. Features of the poetic syntax of Tsvetaeva M.I.
A distinctive feature of Tsvetaeva's lyrics is a unique poetic intonation created by the skillful use of pauses, fragmentation of the lyrical flow into expressive independent segments, varying the tempo and volume of speech. Tsvetaeva’s intonation often finds a clear graphic embodiment. Thus, the poetess likes to highlight emotionally and semantically significant words and expressions with the help of numerous dashes, and often resorts to exclamation and question marks. Pauses are conveyed using numerous ellipses and semicolons. In addition, the highlighting of key words is facilitated by “incorrect” hyphenations from the point of view of tradition, which often fragment words and phrases, increasing the already intense emotionality:
Blood-silver, silver-
Bloody trail of double li...
As we see, images, symbols and concepts acquire a rather specific coloring in Tsvetaeva’s poems. This unconventional semantics is recognized by readers as uniquely “Tsvetaev’s”, as a sign of its art world.
3.6. Symbolism of Tsvetaeva M.I.
The same can largely be attributed to color symbolism. Tsvetaeva loves contrasting tones: silver and fire are especially close to her rebellious lyrical heroine. Fiery colors are an attribute of many of her images: a burning rowan brush, gold hair, blush, etc. Often in her poems light and darkness, day and night, black and white confront each other. Marina Tsvetaeva's colors are rich in meaning. Thus, night and the color black are both a traditional attribute of death and a sign of deep inner concentration, a feeling of being alone with the world and the universe (“Insomnia”). The color black can serve as a sign of rejection of the world that destroyed the poet. Thus, in a poem from 1916, she emphasizes the tragic intransigence of the poet and the mob, as if foretelling Blok’s death:
They thought it was a man!
And they forced me to die.
Died now. Forever.
- Cry for the dead angel!
...The black reader is reading,
Idle people trample...
- The singer lies dead
And he celebrates Sunday.
(“They thought he was a man!”)
The poet, the “luminous sun,” was killed by everyday life, the world of everyday life, which gave him only “three wax candles" The image of the Poet in Tsvetaev’s poems always corresponds to “winged” symbols: an eagle or little eaglet, a seraphim (Mandelshtam); swan, angel (Blok). Tsvetaeva also constantly sees herself as “winged”: her soul is a “pilot”, she is “in flight // Her own - constantly broken.”
3.7. Peculiarities of the poet's fate
The poetic gift, according to Tsvetaeva, makes a person winged, lifts him above the vanity of life, above time and space, and gives him divine power over minds and souls. According to Tsvetaeva, the gods speak through the lips of poets, elevating them to eternity. But the same poetic gift also takes away a lot: it takes away from God’s chosen person his real earthly life, makes it impossible for him simple joys everyday life Harmony with the world is initially impossible for the poet:
Tsvetaeva ruthlessly and succinctly formulates in her 1935 poem “There are lucky ones...”.
The poet's reconciliation with the world is possible only if he renounces his poetic gift, his “specialness.” Therefore, Tsvetaeva, from her youth, rebels against the everyday world, against forgetfulness, dullness and death:
Hide everything so that people forget,
Like melted snow and a candle?
To be just a handful of dust in the future
Under the grave cross? I don't want to!
(“To Literary Prosecutors”, 1911-1912)
In her rebellion as a poet against the mob, in asserting herself as a poet, Tsvetaeva challenges even death. She creates an imaginary picture of choice - and prefers to repentance and forgiveness the share of a poet rejected by the world and rejecting the world:
With a gentle hand, moving away the unkissed cross,
I will rush into the generous sky for the last greetings.
A slit of dawn - and a reciprocal smile...
- Even in my dying hiccups I will remain a poet!
(“I know, I’ll die at dawn!..”, 1920)
Tsvetaeva's articles are the most reliable evidence of the uniqueness of her artistic world. In the programmatic article “Poets with history and poets without history,” which has already been discussed, Tsvetaeva reflects: “The lyrics themselves, for all their self-doom, are inexhaustible. (Perhaps the best formula for lyrics and lyrical essence: doom to inexhaustibility!) The more you draw, the more remains. That's why it never disappears. That’s why we rush at every new lyricist with such greed: what if our soul is quenched? As if they all intoxicate us with bitter, salty, green sea water, and every time we don’t believe that this is drinking water. And she is bitter again! (Let’s not forget that the structure of the sea, the structure of the blood and the structure of the lyrics are the same.)”
“Every poet is essentially an emigrant, even in Russia,” writes Marina Tsvetaeva in the article “The Poet and Time.” - Emigrant of the Kingdom of Heaven and the earthly paradise of nature. On the poet - on all people of art - but on the poet most of all - there is a special stamp of discomfort, by which even in his own home you recognize the poet. An emigrant from Immortality in time, a defector to his heaven.”
All of Tsvetaeva’s lyrics are essentially lyrics of internal emigration from the world, from life and from oneself. In the 20th century, she felt uncomfortable, she was attracted by the era of the romantic past, and during the period of emigration - by pre-revolutionary Russia. An emigrant for her is “Lost between hernias and blocks // God in a whoredom”; his definition comes close to that of a poet:
Extra! Supreme! Exit! Call! Up high
Not weaned... Gallows
Not accepted... In the tatters of currencies and visas
Vega is a native.
(“Emigrant”, 1923)
In this regard, Tsvetaeva’s attitude to the category of time itself deserves special attention. In her 1923 poem “Praise of Time,” she states that she “was born // by Time!” - time “deceives” her, “measures” her, “drops her”, the poet “does not keep up” with time. Indeed, Tsvetaeva is uncomfortable in modernity; “the time of her soul” is always the unattainable and irretrievably gone eras of the past. When the era becomes past, it acquires the features of an ideal in Tsvetaeva’s soul and lyrics. That's how it was with pre-revolutionary Russia, which during the emigration period became for her not only a lost beloved homeland, but also an “era of the soul” (“Longing for the Motherland,” “Home,” “Lucina,” “Naiad,” “Mother’s Cry for a New Recruit,” etc.). , “Russian” poems - “Well done”, “Lane streets”, “Tsar Maiden”).
Tsvetaeva wrote about the poet’s perception of time in the article “The Poet and Time.” Tsvetaeva considers modern not the poets of the “social order”, but those who, even without accepting modernity (for everyone has the right to their own “soul time”, to a beloved, internally close era), tries to “humanize” it, to fight its vices.
At the same time, every poet, in her opinion, is involved in eternity, because he humanizes the present, creates for the future (“the reader in posterity”) and absorbs the experience of the world cultural tradition. “All modernity in the present is the coexistence of times, ends and beginnings, a living knot that only needs to be cut,” reflects Tsvetaeva. Tsvetaeva has a heightened perception of the conflict between time and eternity. By “time” she understands immediacy, transient and passing modernity. The symbols of eternity and immortality in her work are eternally earthly nature and unearthly worlds: sky (night, day), sea and trees.
4. Conclusion
In the poetic works of M. Tsvetaeva, color words actively interact with each other. If their interaction is considered in the context of the poet’s entire work, all color terms, expressed differently, form a system of opposing elements. In relation to a literary text, the concept of systemic opposition is relevant not only in relation to antonymy (for example, black - white), but also to the enumeration series (red - blue - green) and to synonymy (red - purple - scarlet). All distinctive features of synonyms - stylistic, gradational - determine the lexical opposition of these synonyms in literary text. Actually synonymous relations between them are also preserved, since they are characteristic of the language system. It is also possible to synonymously bring together members of an enumerative series or elements of antithesis on the basis of a differential feature that is functionally distinguished and occasionally dominant in the text.
Everything in her personality and poetry (for her this is an indissoluble unity) sharply departed from the general circle of traditional ideas and dominant literary tastes. This was both the strength and originality of her poetic word
Since M. Tsvetaeva creates her picture of the world through linguistic connections and relationships (as evidenced, in particular, by the multidirectional phraseological induction of text formation), we can say that the language of the works of the poet-philosopher M. Tsvetaeva reflects the philosophy of language in its development.
An analysis of color designation in the poetry of M. Tsvetaeva convinces us that she does not have a purely aesthetic attitude towards color. Apparently, it is precisely this general property of Tsvetaev’s pictorial system that explains such particulars as the absence of diminutive forms and suffixes of incompleteness of quality when designating colors
5. List of sources used
In her Autobiography, Tsvetaeva wrote: “Father Ivan Vladimirovich Tsvetaev is a professor at Moscow University, the founder and collector of the Museum of Fine Arts (now the Museum of Fine Arts), and an outstanding philologist. Mother - Maria Alexandrovna Main - is a passionate musician, loves poetry and writes it herself. Passion for poetry - from her mother, passion for work and for nature - from both parents.” Marina Tsvetaeva received an excellent education, from early childhood she knew French perfectly and German languages. She began writing poetry at the age of five - in Russian, French and German. Literature quickly grew into a true passion. Marina Tsvetaeva grew up among gods and heroes Ancient Greece and Ancient Rome, biblical characters, German and French romantics, literary and historical figures, and spent her entire life in this atmosphere of the great creations of the human spirit. The home environment with the cult of ancient and Germanic culture contributed to comprehensive aesthetic development. Marina Tsvetaeva was nurtured and raised on world culture. She recalled how she once answered her childhood question: what is Napoleon? - a name that she had heard many times in the house - her mother, out of frustration and powerlessness to explain what seemed to her an obvious thing, answered: “It’s in the air.” And she, a girl, understood this idiom literally and wondered what kind of object it was that was “floating in the air.” This is how the culture of humanity “fluttered in the air” of Tsvetaev’s house.
Marina and her sister Asya had a happy, serene childhood, which ended with their mother’s illness. She fell ill with consumption, and doctors prescribed her treatment in a mild climate abroad. From that time on, the Tsvetaev family began a nomadic life. They lived in Italy, Switzerland, France, Germany, and the girls had to study there in various private boarding schools. They spent 1905 in Yalta, and in the summer of 1906. mother died in their home in Tarusa. When Maria Tsvetaeva died, Marina was 14 years old. The loneliness in which Marina Tsvetaeva found herself developed irreversible properties in her character and aggravated the tragic nature of her nature.
Since childhood, Marina Tsvetaeva read a lot, randomly, depending on who was her idol at the moment and what she was captivated by. Letter from Napoleon to Josephine, “Metamorphoses” by Ovid, “Conversations with Goethe” by Eckermann, “History of the Russian State” by Karamzin, “The Duel and Death of Pushkin” by Shchegolev, “The Origin of Tragedy” by Nietzsche and many, many others. Let us add to this that the books read by young Tsvetaeva would have stood on the shelves (according to the chronology of acquaintance with them) in absolutely “lyrical” disorder, because her reading, binge-watching and selfless, was, especially after the death of her mother, quite “unsystematic.” “Books gave me more than people,” Tsvetaeva will say at the end of her youth. Of course, it is no coincidence that literature became the main work of Marina Tsvetaeva’s life. The poetess's debut took place in 1910, when the first collection “Evening Album” was published. Tsvetaeva entered Russian literature at the beginning of the twentieth century as a poet with her own special, unique poetic world.
Prose by M. Tsvetaeva
Features of Tsvetaeva’s prose works
But along with poetry and plays, Tsvetaeva also writes prose, mainly lyric and memoir. Tsvetaeva explained the constant work on prose that began (towards the end of the 20s and in the 30s), only occasionally accompanied by poetry, in many ways by need: prose was printed, poetry was not, they paid more for prose. But most importantly, Tsvetaeva believed that there is not poetry and prose in the world, but prose and poetry; the best thing that can be in literature is lyrical prose. Therefore, Tsvetaeva’s prose, although not verse, nevertheless represents genuine poetry - with all its inherent abilities. Tsvetaevskaya's prose is unique, sharply original. The poetess writes a number of large articles and large, autobiographical portraits (“The House of Old Pimen,” “The Mother’s Tale,” “Kirillovna,” etc.). A special place in her prose heritage is occupied by large, memoir-type articles - tombstones dedicated to Voloshin, Mandelstam, A. Bely. If all these works are placed in a row, following not the chronology of their writing, but the chronology of the events described, then we will get a fairly consistent and broad autobiographical picture, which will include early childhood and youth, Moscow, Tarusa, Koktebel, Civil War and emigration, and within all these events - Mandelstam, Bryusov, Voloshin, Yesenin, Mayakovsky, Balmont. The main thing that Tsvetaeva’s prose has in common with her poetry is romanticism, exalted style, the increased role of metaphor, intonation “raised” to the sky, and lyrical associativity. Her prose is just as dense, explosive and dynamic, just as risky and winged, musical and whirlwind, like her poetry.
Reasons for turning to prose
Tsvetaeva’s first work in prose that has come down to us is “Magic in Bryusov’s Poems” (1910 or 1911) - a small naive note about the three-volume poems of V. Bryusov “Paths and Crossroads”. The most significant part of Tsvetaeva’s prose was created in France, in the 30s (1932-1937). This has its own pattern, the interweaving of internal (creative) and external (everyday) reasons, their inseparability and even interdependence. Since the mid-20s, Tsvetaeva writes less and less lyric poems, but creates works of large form - poems and tragedies. Her withdrawal “into herself, into the sole personality of her feelings” deepens, her isolation from her surroundings grows. Like her contemporaries, Russian writers who found themselves in a foreign land (Bunin and Kuprin), Tsvetaeva feels like an uninvited guest in someone else’s house, who can be humiliated and insulted at any moment. This feeling intensified when I moved to France. Her reader remained in her homeland, and Tsvetaeva felt this especially acutely. “The past is contemporary in art here,” she wrote in the article “The Poet and Time.” Tsvetaeva, in complete sincerity, complained to V.N. Bunina in 1935: “For last years I wrote very little poetry. Because they didn’t take them from me, they forced me to write prose. And prose began. I love you very much, I'm not complaining. But still, it’s somewhat violent: doomed to a prosaic word.” And in another letter she expressed herself even more categorically: “Emigration makes me a prose writer.” There are many examples in the history of literature when, in the poet’s mature years, prose, for many reasons, became for him a more vital form of expression, more objective, more specific and detailed. The main thing is that there was an urgent need to understand life events, meetings with poets, books. So it was with Tsvetaeva, whose prose was brought to life primarily by creative, moral, historical necessity. Thus, her autobiographical prose was born from an internal need to recreate her childhood, “because,” Tsvetaeva wrote, “we are all indebted to our own childhood, for no one (except, perhaps, Goethe alone) fulfilled what he promised himself in childhood , in your own childhood - and the only opportunity to compensate for what was not done is to recreate your childhood. And, what is even more important than duty: childhood is an eternal inspiring source of lyrics, the poet’s return back to his heavenly origins” (“Poets with history and poets without history”). An ardent desire to save from oblivion, not to allow the images of her father, mother, and the entire world in which she grew up and which “fashioned” her to fade into oblivion, prompted Tsvetaeva to create, one after another, autobiographical essays. The desire to “give” the reader her own Pushkin, who entered her life from infancy, brought to life two essays about Pushkin. This is how Pushkin’s words came true for Marina Tsvetaeva: “Summer is heading towards harsh prose.”
Tsvetaeva as a reader of A. S. Pushkin
Features of the essay genre
In 1936 The essay “My Pushkin” appears. This essay, a memoir, was written for the upcoming centenary of the death of A.S. Pushkin and published in the Parisian magazine “ Modern notes"in 1937. The essay “My Pushkin” casually talks about how a child who was destined to become a poet plunged headlong into the “free element” of Pushkin’s poetry. It is told, as always with Tsvetaeva, in her own way, entirely in the light of personal spiritual experience. It may be (and even very likely) that some of these memories have been reinterpreted or interpreted, but still the story captivates with its surprisingly subtle and deep insight into child psychology, into the rich and whimsical children’s imagination.
It should be noted that the work “My Pushkin” is devoid of detailed classical literary analysis. Maybe that’s why the author defined the genre as an essay. It is worth recalling the semantics of that word. Essay (non-cl. cf. p. From the French Essai - literally “experience”) - THIS IS A KIND OF ESSAY - of a scientific, historical, critical, journalistic nature, in which main role It is not the fact itself that plays a role, but the impressions and associations it evokes in the author, thoughts and reflections about life, about events in science, art, and literature.
The adult Tsvetaeva had no need for complete classical interpretation works written by Pushkin. She wanted to express her own childhood perception of Pushkin's books. That is why her remarks are so fragmentary and not so easy to read and understand for modern readers. Based on the psychology of the characteristics of a five-year-old girl, Tsvetaeva recalls Pushkin’s images, the bright, extraordinary actions of these heroes. And this fragmentary memory allows us to judge that the poetess’s brightest thoughts were embodied in the essay. And how much more remains beyond the pages of the essay “My Pushkin”! Turning to the mention of this or that work, Tsvetaeva does not stop her gaze on the artistic features of Pushkin’s works; Another thing is important to her: to understand what this hero is and why the naive, childish reader’s soul has preserved him.
A. Blok said: “We know Pushkin the man, Pushkin the friend of the monarchy, Pushkin the friend of the Decembrists. All this pales in comparison to one thing: Pushkin the poet.” Blok had serious reasons for such a reservation. The study of Pushkin at the beginning of the twentieth century grew so much that it turned into a special branch of literary criticism. But at the same time she became more and more shallow, almost entirely immersed in the jungle of biography and everyday life. Pushkin the poet was supplanted by Pushkin the lyceum student, Pushkin the social dandy. There was a need to return to the real Pushkin.
Thinking and talking about Pushkin, about his genius, about his role in Russian life and Russian culture, Tsvetaeva was at one with Blok. She echoes him when she says: “Pushkin of friendship, Pushkin of marriage, Pushkin of rebellion, Pushkin of the throne, Pushkin of light, Pushkin of shadows, Pushkin of the Gabrieliads, Pushkin of the church, Pushkin - countless of his types and guises - all this is welded together and held in him by one thing: the poet "("Natalia Goncharova"). From Tsvetaeva’s remark it is clear that Pushkin is more than a person for her, he is a Poet. It is impossible to convey everything that Tsvetaeva thought and felt about Pushkin. We can only say that the poet was truly her first and unchanging love.
It is not enough to say that this is her “eternal companion”: Pushkin, in Tsvetaeva’s understanding, was a trouble-free battery that fed the creative energy of Russian poets of all generations: Tyutchev, Nekrasov, Blok, and Mayakovsky. And for her, the “eternally modern” Pushkin always remained her best friend, interlocutor, and adviser. She constantly compares her sense of beauty, her understanding of poetry with Pushkin. At the same time, in Tsvetaeva’s attitude towards Pushkin there was absolutely nothing of the prayerful and kneeling veneration of the literary “icon”. Tsvetaeva feels him not as a mentor, but as an ally.
In Tsvetaeva’s attitude towards Pushkin, in her understanding of Pushkin, in her boundless love for Pushkin, the most important and decisive thing is the firm, immutable conviction that Pushkin’s influence can only be liberating. The guarantee of this is the poet’s very spiritual freedom. In his poetry, in his personality, in the nature of his genius, Tsvetaeva sees the complete triumph of that free and liberating element, the expression of which, as she understands, is true art.
Pictures taken from childhood, from my parents' house
The essay begins with The Mystery of the Red Room. “There was a closet in the red room,” writes Tsvetaeva. It was in this closet that little Marina secretly climbed into to read “The Collected Works of A. S. Pushkin”: “I read Tolstoy Pushkin in the closet, with my nose in the book and on the shelf, almost in the dark and almost right up to Pushkin I read straight into my chest and straight into brain". It was from this closet that Tsvetaeva’s formation as a person began, love for Pushkin came, and a life full of Pushkin began.
Like any reader, talented, thoughtful, Tsvetaeva has the ability to see, hear and think. It is with the imagery that the unhurried story begins - Tsvetaeva’s memory of Pushkin. And the first painting “Duel”, restored and preserved in childhood memory, is the famous painting by Naumov, which hung “in the mother’s bedroom.” “Ever since Pushkina, before my eyes in Naumov’s painting, murder divided the world into a poet – and everyone.” There were two more paintings in the house on Trekhprudny Lane, which Tsvetaeva mentions at the very beginning of the essay and which, according to the poetess, “excellently prepared the child for the terrible age destined for him” - “in the dining room “The Appearance of Christ to the People” with the never-resolved riddle of a very small and incomprehensible - close Christ" and "over the music bookcase in the hall "Tatars", in white robes, in a stone house without windows, killing the main Tatar between the white pillars."
Please note that the mention of three paintings is not accidental. It was from them that for little Musya Tsvetaeva the world was divided into white and black, good and evil.
Tsvetaeva and the Pushkin Monument
For little Marina, Pushkin was everything. The image of the poet constantly filled the child’s imagination. And if in the public consciousness, in everyday life, Pushkin petrified and bronzed, turning into a “Pushkin Monument”, erected as an edification and regrowth for those who dared to cross the norm in art, then for Tsvetaeva Pushkin was alive, unique, his own.
The poet was her friend, a participant in childhood games and first endeavors. The child also developed his own vision of the Pushkin Monument: “The Pushkin Monument was not a Pushkin Monument (genitive case), but simply a Pushkin Monument, in one word, with equally incomprehensible and separately non-existent concepts of a monument and Pushkin. That which is eternal, in the rain and under the snow, whether I come or go, run away or run, stands with an eternal hat in hand, is called the “Pushkin Monument”.
The walking route was familiar and familiar: from home to the Pushkin Monument. Therefore, we can assume that the Pushkin Monument was located not far from the Tsvetaevs’ house. Every day, accompanied by nannies, little Marina took walks to the monument. “The Pushkin Monument was one of two (there was no third) daily walks - to the Patriarch’s Ponds - or to the Pushkin Monument.” And, of course, Tsvetaeva chose the Pushkin Monument, because there were no patriarchs at the “Patriarch’s Ponds,” but the Pushkin Monument has always been there. As soon as she saw the monument, the girl began to run towards it. She ran up, then raised her head and peered at the giant’s face for a long time. Tsvetaeva also had her own special games with the monument: placing a white porcelain figurine at its foot and comparing the height, or calculating how many figures (or the Tsvetaevs themselves) needed to be placed on top of each other to make the Pushkin Monument.
Such walks were taken every day and Musa did not get tired of it at all. The little girl went to the Pushkin Monument, but one day the Pushkin Monument itself came to Tsvetaeva. And it happened like this.
Interesting personalities came to the house of the Tsvetaevs, famous respected people. And one day the son of A.S. Pushkin came. But little Marina, who has the gift of remembering objects, not people, did not remember his face, but only the star on his chest. So it remained in her memory that the son of Monument-Pushkin came. “But soon the indefinite affiliation of the son was erased: the son of the Monument-Pushkin turned into the Monument-Pushkin himself. The Pushkin Monument itself came to visit us. And the older I got, the more this became stronger in my consciousness: Pushkin’s son - just because he was Pushkin’s son, was already a monument. A double monument to his glory and his blood. Living monument. So now, a whole life later, I can calmly say that the Pushkin Monument came to our three-pond house, at the end of the century, one cold white morning.”
The Pushkin monument was also Marina’s first meeting with black and white. Tsvetaeva, who grew up among ancient statues with their marble whiteness, the Pushkin Monument, cast from cast iron (and therefore black), was a challenge against standardization and everyday life. In the essay, she recalls: “I loved the Pushkin monument for its blackness, the opposite of the whiteness of our household gods. Those eyes were completely white, but Monument - Pushkin’s were completely black, completely full. And if they hadn’t told me later that Pushkin was a Negro, I would have known that Pushkin was a Negro.” Tsvetaeva would no longer fall in love with the White Monument of Pushkin. His blackness was for her a symbol of a genius, in whose veins “black” African blood flows, but who does not cease to be a genius because of this.
So Tsvetaeva was faced with a choice. On the one hand - white, ancient, cold antique statues that have accompanied her since birth. And on the other - black, lonely, warm from the African sun Monument - Pushkin by A. M. Opekushina. A choice had to be made. And, of course, she chose the Pushkin Monument. Once and for all I chose “black, not white: a black thought, a black share, a black life.”
But the love for antiquity still did not disappear in Tsvetaeva. Her works contain many mythological images and reminiscences - she may have been the last poet in Russia for whom ancient mythology turned out to be a necessary and familiar spiritual atmosphere.
Thus, we can say that Pushkin’s monument was Musya’s first mentor, with whom she discovered and learned about the world: “The first lesson in numbers, the first lesson in scale, the first lesson in material, the first lesson in hierarchy, the first lesson in thought and, most importantly, a visual confirmation of all my subsequent experience: out of a thousand figures, even one placed on top of another, you cannot make Pushkin.” Tsvetaeva carried this idea of the poet’s uniqueness throughout her life. She felt more keenly than others the greatness of his genius and the uniqueness of his personality, but while expressing admiration for his work, she avoided servility and arrogance.
M. Tsvetaeva’s unique perception of A. S. Pushkin’s poem “Gypsies”
Usually, when children get acquainted with Pushkin, they first of all read “The Tale of Tsar Saltan”, “O dead princess and the Seven Bogatyrs”, “About the Golden Cockerel” But Marina Tsvetaeva was not like other children. Not only did she meet Pushkin quite early, at the age of five, but her first work she read was “Gypsies.” A strange choice for a child her age. After all, even today this work is offered to older readers, schoolchildren aged 13–15, who have accumulated sufficient reading experience and already have an idea of good and evil, love and hate, friendship and betrayal, and finally, about justice. Perhaps “Gypsies” was the first work from the “Collected Works of Pushkin”, the same blue volume that was kept in the Red Room, and therefore Tsvetaeva began to read it. Or maybe she liked the name, and the child’s imagination began to draw amazing pictures. And the children’s imagination was also struck by the names: “I have never heard such names: Aleko, Zemfira, and also the Old Man.” And the girl had no experience communicating with gypsies. “I have never seen living gypsies, but from my childhood I heard “about a gypsy, my nurse,” who loved gold, who tore gold-plated earrings “from her ears with meat and immediately trampled them into the parquet.”
In the essay, the adult Tsvetaeva comically depicts a scene of how a five-year-old child tells “Gypsy” to his listeners, and they only ooh and ah, ask the young narrator again with disbelief and bewilderment, innocently commenting on what they heard. Anna Saakyants in the article “The Prose of Marina Tsvetaeva” notes: “Tsvetaeva’s prose has its differences. This is like poetry, retold in detail by the author himself.” This is a feature not only of the writer, poetess Marina Tsvetaeva, it is also a feature of the young reader, Musya Tsvetaeva. Sharing her impressions of what she read in “Gypsies,” overwhelmed by the feelings and thoughts that overwhelmed her, Musenka tries to retell to her listeners everything she learned about from the pages of Pushkin’s poem. But it is extremely difficult for her, a future poetess, to do this. It’s easier for her to speak in poetry. “Well, there was one young man,” - this is how the girl begins her story “about the gypsies. " - "No, there was one old man, and he had a daughter. No, I’d rather say it in verse. Gypsies in a noisy crowd are roaming around Bessarabia - Today they are over the river - They are spending the night in tattered tents - and so on - without respite and without middle commas.” If we take into account that the girl told the story by heart, we can conclude that her favorite “Gypsies” were read by her more than once or twice
And Pushkin’s “Gypsies” is a passionate, fatal love“the young man ALEKO” (this is how Tsvetaeva pronounces this amazing name) and the old man’s daughter, whose “name was Zemfira (menacingly and loudly) Zemfira.”
(In passing, we note that another amazing feature of Tsvetaeva’s thinking is to perceive the world and heroes not only through visual image, but also through sound. It is through the sound of the names Aleko and Zemfira (“menacing and loud”) that the poetess Tsvetaeva conveys childhood enthusiasm for her favorite characters). But “Gypsies” is also about the young reader’s passionate love for Pushkin’s heroes. In her essay, Tsvetaeva notes: “But in the end, loving and not speaking means breaking apart.” This is how “a completely new word – love” came into the life of five-year-old Musenka. How hot it is in the chest, in the very chest cavity (everyone knows!) and you don’t tell anyone - love. I always felt hot in my chest, but I didn’t know that it was love. I thought it’s like this for everyone, always like this.”
It was thanks to Pushkin and his “Gypsies” that Tsvetaeva first learned about love: “Pushkin infected me with love. In a word, love." But already in childhood this love was somehow different: a cat running away and not returning, Augustina Ivanovna leaving, Parisian dolls forever put away in boxes - that was love. And it was expressed not through meeting and intimacy, but through separation and parting. And, having matured, Tsvetaeva has not changed at all. Her love is always a “fatal duel”, always an argument, a conflict and, most often, a breakup. First you had to be separated to understand that you love.
Tsvetaeva and Pugachev
Tsvetaev's love is incomprehensible and unique. She saw in some people what others did not notice, and that’s why she loved them. And such an incomprehensible, incomprehensible love was Pugachev. In her essay, Tsvetaeva, telling how she fell in love with Pushkin’s Pugachev in her early childhood, admits: “It was all about the fact that I naturally loved a wolf, not a lamb.” Such was her nature - to love in defiance. And further: “Having said wolf, I called the Counselor. Having named the Leader, I named Pugachev: the wolf, this time who spared the lamb, the wolf who dragged the lamb into the dark forest - to love.”
Of course, another work that had a huge influence on Tsvetaeva was “The Captain's Daughter.” According to Tsvetaeva, the goodness in the story is embodied in Pugachev. Not in Grinev, who in a lordly, condescending and careless manner rewarded the Counselor with a hare sheepskin coat, but in this “unkind”, “dashing” man, “fear-man” with black cheerful eyes, who did not forget about the sheepskin coat. Pugachev generously paid Grinev for the sheepskin coat: he gave him life. But, according to Tsvetaeva, this is not enough: Pugachev no longer wants to part with Grinev, promises to “make him a field marshal,” arranges his love affairs - and all this because he simply fell in love with the straightforward second lieutenant. Thus, amid the sea of blood shed by a merciless rebellion, selfless human goodness triumphs.
IN " The captain's daughter“Tsvetaeva loves only Pugachev. Everything else in the story leaves her indifferent - both the commandant and Vasilisa Yegorovna, and Masha, and, in general, Grinev himself. But she never ceases to admire Pugachev - his smooth speech, his eyes, and his beard. But what is most attractive and dear to Tsvetaeva in Pugachev is his selflessness and generosity, the purity of his heartfelt attraction to Grinev. This is what makes Pugachev the most alive, the most truthful and the most romantic hero.
Pushkin in “The Captain’s Daughter” raised Pugachev to a “high platform” folk legend. Having portrayed Pugachev as a magnanimous hero, he acted not only as a poet, but also “as the people”: “he corrected the truth - he gave us another Pugachev, his Pugachev, the people’s Pugachev.” Tsvetaeva keenly saw how it was no longer Grinev, but Pushkin himself, who fell under the spell of Pugachev, how he fell in love with the Counselor.
Tsvetaeva reflects on the pages of “Eugene Onegin”
In general, LOVE - in an infinitely broad sense - was main theme creativity of Tsvetaeva. She put an immense amount into this word and did not recognize synonyms. Love meant for her an attitude towards the world, in all its ambiguity and inconsistency - both the world and her feelings. Love in Tsvetaeva’s work has many faces. Friendship, motherhood, condescension, contempt, jealousy, pride, oblivion - all these are her faces. The faces are different, but the outcome is the same: separation. Tsvetaeva’s love is initially doomed to separation. Joy is doomed to pain, happiness - to suffering.
Love = separation
Joy pain
Happiness Suffering
These formulas could not arise just like that. Something had to influence Tsvetaeva so that she would once and for all doom herself to a tragic life.
This happened in music school Zograf - Plaksina, in Merzlyakovsky Lane. They organized a public evening. “They gave a scene from “Rusalka”, then “Rogned” - and:
Now we'll fly to the garden,
Where did Tatyana meet him?
Tatyana and Onegin When she saw it for the first time, Tsvetaeva immediately fell in love. No, not in Onegin, “but in Onegin and Tatiana (and maybe a little more in Tatiana), in both of them together, in love.” But already at the age of seven, Tsvetaeva knew what kind of love it was. With her unmistakable childhood instinct, Tsvetaeva determined that Onegin does not love Tatyana, but Tatyana loves Onegin. That they do not have that love (reciprocity), but THAT love (doomed to separation). And so the scene in which Tatiana and Onegin are standing in the garden near a bench, and Onegin confesses his LACK OF LOVE to Tatiana, was so imprinted in the child’s mind that no other love scene existed for Tsvetaeva. In her essay, Tsvetaeva writes: “This first love scene of mine predetermined all my subsequent ones, all the passion in me for unhappy, non-reciprocal, impossible love. From that very moment I didn’t want to be happy and by doing so I doomed myself to dislike.”
The image of Tatyana was predetermining: “If then, all my life to this last day, I was always the first to write, the first to stretch out my hand - and my hands, without fear of judgment - it is only because at the dawn of my days, Tatyana lying in a book, by candlelight, is on did it in my eyes. And if later, when they left (they always left), I not only didn’t stretch out my hands and didn’t turn my head, it was only because then Tatyana froze like a statue.”
It was Tatyana who was Tsvetaeva’s main favorite heroine of the novel. But, despite this, Tsvetaeva cannot agree with some of her actions. When, at the end of the novel, Tatyana sits in the hall, reads Eugene Onegin’s letter and Onegin himself comes to her, Tsvetaeva, in Tatyana’s place, would not, rejected, admit: “I love you, why lie?” No! The poet's soul would not allow this. Tsvetaeva is all in a storm, a whirlwind movement, in action and deed, just like her poetry. Tsvetaeva's love poems sharply contradict all the traditions of women's love lyrics, in particular, the poetry of Tsvetaeva’s contemporary Anna Akhmatova. It is difficult to imagine a greater contrast - even when they write about the same thing, for example, about separation from a loved one. Where Akhmatova has intimacy, strict harmony, as a rule - quiet speech, almost a prayerful whisper, Tsvetaeva has an appeal to the whole world, sharp violations of the usual harmony, pathetic exclamations, a cry, “the cry of a ripped open gut.” However, even her loud, choking speech was not enough for Tsvetaeva to fully express the feelings that overwhelmed her, and she grieved: “The immensity of my words is only a faint shadow of the immensity of my feelings.”
It should be noted that Tatyana, even before Tsvetaeva, influenced her mother M.A. Main. M.A. Main, at the behest of her father, married someone she didn’t love. “My mother chose the most difficult lot - a widower twice as old with two children, in love with a deceased woman - she married the children and the misfortune of others, loving and continuing to love the one with whom she then never sought to meet. So Tatyana not only influenced my life, but also to the very fact of my life: if there had not been Pushkin’s Tatyana, there would have been no me.”
Let us remember that Tsvetaeva described in her essay the events that she especially remembered and that resonated with her. Therefore, “Eugene Onegin” was reduced for her “to three scenes: that candle - that bench - that parquet. " It was these scenes that Tsvetaeva gave highest value and it was in them that I saw the main essence of the novel. Having read “Eugene Onegin” at the age of seven, Tsvetaeva understood it better than others. In a letter to Voloshin dated April 18, 1911, Marina Tsvetaeva wrote: “Children won’t understand? Children understand too much! At seven years old, Mtsyri and Eugene Onegin are much more deeply understood than at twenty. This is not the point, not a lack of understanding, but a too deep, too sensitive, painfully true one!”
No matter what Tsvetaeva wrote about, the same and most important actor She always performed herself - the poet Marina Tsvetaeva. If she was not him in the literal sense, she stood invisibly behind every written line, leaving no opportunity for the reader to think differently than she, the author, thought. Moreover, Tsvetaeva did not at all impose herself on the reader, as émigré criticism rudely and superficially wrote about her prose - she simply lived in every word. Collected together, Tsvetaeva’s best prose creates the impression of great scale, weight, and significance. For Tsvetaeva, little things as such simply cease to exist. Categorical nature and subjectivity gave Tsvetaeva’s entire prose a purely lyrical, personal, and sometimes intimate character - properties inherent in her poetic works. Yes, Tsvetaeva’s prose was, first of all, the prose of a poet, and at times - romantic myth-making.
Features of M.I.’s style Tsvetaeva
M. Tsvetaeva’s language changed throughout her work; the most dramatic changes in her occurred, according to researchers, in 1922, when lightness and transparency disappeared, joy and fun disappeared, and poetry was born, which is characterized by the versatility of words, playing with the most complex associations, rich sound writing, complicated syntax, stanza, rhymes. All her poetry is essentially explosions and explosions of sounds, rhythms, and meanings. M. Tsvetaeva is one of the most rhythmically diverse poets (Brodsky), rhythmically rich, generous.The rhythms of Tsvetaeva’s poetry are unique. She easily breaks the inertia of old rhythms familiar to the ear. This is a pulse that suddenly stops, interrupted phrases, literally telegraphic laconicism. The choice of such a poetic form was determined by the deep emotions and anxiety that filled her soul. Sound repetitions, unexpected rhyme, sometimes inaccurate, help convey emotional information.A. Bely on May 21, 1922 published an article in the Berlin newspaper “Poetess-singer”, which ended like this: “... if Blok is a rhythmist, if the plastic is essentially Gumilyov, if the sound player is Khlebnikov, then Marina Tsvetaeva is a composer and singer... Melodies... Tsvetaeva’s Marinas are persistent, persistent...” (Quoted from: A. Troyat. Marina Tsvetaeva, M.: 2003. p. 201).Tsvetaeva's rhythms keep the reader in suspense. It is dominated by dissonance and the “ragged” rhythm of military marches, destructive wartime music, the music of the abyss that divided Russia like an abyss. These are the rhythms of the twentieth century, with its social cataclysms and disasters. .The main principle of Tsvetaeva’s poetic language is its trinity, which presupposesinterdependence of sound, meaning and words. M. Tsvetaeva sought to realize in poetry the form of “verbal witchcraft,” the play of sound, music and all the richness of the potentialities of meaning.Such interdependence of sound, meaning and wordsis expressed in Tsvetaeva’s works through syntactic, lexical, punctuation and morphological means of expression.Several of these techniques are breaking words into syllables, morphological division of words, changing the place of stress.Breaking down into syllables restores the rhythmic scheme (The shaft broke: / The whole sea - in two!) and increases the semantic significance of the word, connecting together the process of slow and clear pronunciation of the word with the process of realizing its true meaning (Fight for existence So, night and day, the house fights death with all its sleeves).The effect of morphemic division arises from a double reading of a word: divided into morphemes, as presented in the text, and a continuous reading available in the mind of the native speaker. The division of a word into morphemes gives the latter the status of a full-meaning word. Morphemic division in the poetic language of M. Tsvetaeva corresponds to the real one (with living word-formation connections: (U-my pair went, / U-went to the Army!, as well as in words that have lost their derivative character: Don’t you ever think about me! (On- sticky!). The breakdown into syllables can imitate morphemic division with the highlighting of one significant part (Six-winged, welcoming, / Between the imaginary - prostrate! - existing, / Not strangled by your carcasses / Soul!) There is a tendency in the poetic language of M. Tsvetaeva. break a polysyllabic word, putting the significant (root) part of the word in rhyme position (They peer - and in the hidden / hidden petal: not you!; I feel sorry for your stubborn palm in the gloss / Hair, -...).A word divided into morphemes conveys two meanings, in contrast to an undivided unambiguous word.Changing the stress in a word, placing stress on a preposition is associated with the implementation of the rhythmic scheme (To thunder to smoke, / To young gray hairs of affairs - / My thoughts are gray haired parables; Shadow - we guide, / Body - a mile away!). The second stress, equated to the semantic one, should be considered an expressive means (Voeutesno, all-over, / Straight, without roads, ...). A characteristic color technique is a syntagmatic juxtaposition of linguistic units that differ only in stress (Admired and delighted; Woe, woe; the title of the poem “Flour and Flour”).Stylistic layers of the high and low stylistic tiers are attracted by M. Tsvetaeva in the full range of meanings of the stylistic scale of the Russian language and are used in texts in a contrasting juxtaposition (high stylistic tier: archaic vocabulary, stylistic Slavicisms, poetisms, book vocabulary, including vocabulary of journalistic, official business, scientific style; reduced stylistic level: colloquial, familiar, colloquial, roughly colloquial vocabulary.). M. Tsvetaeva’s poetic texts are characterized by the active use of punctuation marks as semantically rich expressive means. Dashes, brackets, ellipses, exclamation marks - an arsenal of expressive punctuation marks in M. Tsvetaeva’s language. Tsvetaev’s punctuation marks, in addition to their connection with intonation (setting for pronunciation) and syntactic levels, are directly related to the diversity of the poetic fabric of the text. In Tsvetaev’s statement there is not one, but several emotions at once, not one consistently developing thought, but thoughts arguing with each other, entering into a relationship of picking up, searching for additional arguments, abandoning one in favor of another . And yet, the most striking signs of Tsvetaeva’s predilection for certain signs can be summarized into a certain system that reveals the main features of her poetry. This is, firstly, the extreme, to the point of failure, compactness of speech, concentration, condensation of thought to the “darkness of compression,” as Tsvetaeva herself called the complexity of poetic language; secondly, this is the emotion of speech and such tension when the verse begins to choke, as it were, to get confused - in rhythm, in meter; thirdly, the undisguised activity of artistic form and rhythm.Tsvetaeva masterfully masters rhythm, this is her soul, it is not just a form, but an active means of embodiment inner essence verse. Tsvetaeva’s “invincible rhythms,” as A. Bely defined them, fascinate and captivate. They are unique and therefore unforgettable! .
