#20th century russian poetry

[derangedrhythms]

Sergey Yesenin, 20th Century Russian Poetry: Silver and Steel; from 'The Black Man', tr. Geoffrey Thurley

[artemlegere]

Star of the Hero

Artist: Nicholas Roerich (Russian, 1874-1947)

Date: 1936

Medium: Canvas, tempera

Collection: Nicholas Roerich Museum, New York City, NY

The Hero Stars

Out of Perseus they come, sparks from a hero’s sword as I stand, rapt in the whispering darkness, my head tilted back, mouth hanging open, waiting for the stars to land on my tongue, waiting for the sky to fall through my eyes into my soul.

[ant1gonesque]

Olga Della-Vos-Kardovskaya, Portrait of Anna Akhmatova (1914)

[vintage-russia]

Poem "The Fan" (1913) by Russian poet Sergey Tretyakov (1892-1937)

[artved]

— Head of Demon by Mikhail Vrubel (detail)

With stubborn rings it winds in mute obscurity And clings caressingly, its purpose whole. And this dead thing, this loathsome black impurity, This horror that I shrink from — is my soul.

— Psyche by Zinaida Gippius, 1905 (Translated by Babette Deutsch and Avrahm Yarmolinsky)

[edwardian-girl-next-door]

"I cannot think of you apart from love."

~ Marina Tsvetaeva, The Selected Poems of Marina Tsvetaeva

[prayersforpigeons]

Children of dust, this congregation, Here boards instead of icon saints Where but psalm numbers mark creations Of J. S. Bach, in chalk and paint. The tumult of such different voices In churches and in tavern halls — While like Isaiah you’re rejoicing, Oh, Bach, the shrewdest of us all! When your grandchildren came to hear it, Debater, playing your chorale, Was it in truth support for spirit You sought in proof and rationale? What is a sound? Sixteenth note fractions, The organ’s many-layered shout — Laconic old man, all those actions Are no more than your mumbling out! The Lutheran priest as he preaches On his black pulpit, over verse, Mixes the sound of his speeches, Angry respondent, all with yours.

Bach by Osip Mandelstam, tr. Tamara Vardomskaya

[makingqueerhistory]

do you have any older examples of people playing around with pronouns (gender neutral or otherwise) in a queer way? most stuff I'm finding on my own is all mid to late 20th century :')

I think I have the perfect story for you! That of Zinaida Gippius, here is a quote from their article:

"A Russian poet, their discussion of their own identity is held within the culture and understandings of the Russian language. This is particularly relevant in the Russian language's use of grammatical gender, which is something that the English language is unable to capture in any meaningful way. Within their poetry, Gippius made a point to switch back and forth between masculine and feminine gendering, leaning towards the masculine. In the study of their poetry, this has been demonstrated for English readers through coloured text, with one colour used to indicate when they are using feminine gendering and another for masculine."

It was an interesting article to write, as there was a legitimate reason to use he/him/his pronouns, she/her/hers, and they/them/theirs, so we used all three.

Here are some interesting quotes about gender from them:

"The bodily differences between an actual man and an actual woman are important, of course. The body here should be viewed as a sign of the predominance in a given human being of the [Female] or [Male] principle […] the body itself is not integrally reflective of the [Male] or [Female] principle and, second, the body does not determine personality."

"I do not desire exclusive femininity, just as I do not desire exclusive masculinity. Each time someone is insulted and dissatisfied within me; with women, my femininity is active, with men-my masculinity! In my thoughts, my desires, in my spirit-I am more a man; in my body-I am more a woman. Yet they are so fused together that I know not."

"Thus, in all the tangled threads of reality—in all its minutiae, errors, and nuances—one may uncover the selfsame effectual Principles [pure masculine and feminine]: separated and conjoinable, conjoined and separable."

[perfectquote]

The flower does not see its own beauty.

Stepan Schipachov, tr. by Daniel Weissbort, from 20th Century Russian Poetry; “The Blue Spaces,”

[perfectfeelings]

The flower does not see its own beauty.

Stepan Schipachov, tr. by Daniel Weissbort, from 20th Century Russian Poetry; “The Blue Spaces,”

[derangedrhythms]

Vladimir Mayakovsky, 20th Century Russian Poetry: Silver and Steel; from ‘Unfinished Poems’, tr. Bernard Meares

[quotefeeling]

The flower does not see its own beauty.

Stepan Schipachov, tr. by Daniel Weissbort, from 20th Century Russian Poetry; “The Blue Spaces,”

[thebookquotes]

The flower does not see its own beauty.

Stepan Schipachov, tr. by Daniel Weissbort, from 20th Century Russian Poetry; “The Blue Spaces,”

[vintage-russia]

Illustration for the fairy tale by Pyotr Yershov "Konyok-Gorbunok" (1922)

[acesw]

Knowing our Arcanists 11: Зима

Welcome to entry eleven of my series: "Knowing our Arcanists"! This is a series in which I introduce and tell the stories of our fellow characters in Reverse: 1999. For today's character we will be seeing: Зима!

Ah so if we have Tennant for the yuri beam then we have Зима for the yaoi beam. He's also one of the characters we're initially introduced to early in the game, and he also has a generally short story. Lets get started.

Зима is a Russian arcanist who was born on April 28th and was active during the early 20th century. He lived in Russia prior to being taken into the Foundation during his exile. His arcane skill involves the composition of poetry as well as the ability to communicate with the wildlife around him.

A quiet man, he is a poet who actively wrote during the 1910s during the era of the Russian Empire. His poems were popular among the masses and the nobles, receiving a great amount of critical acclaim.

However, his popularity met an end once Зима had been exiled after supposedly writing a poem that went against the Tsar's interests. In the island Зима arrived in, he had initially been with many other prisoners like him.

There, they endured many cold days and nights, and Зима had witnessed death firsthand as prisoners died one by one.

Yet he continued to write. Once running out of paper, he began writing on the environment around him. Snow, wood, stone, any sort of surface.

He endlessly wrote poems that allowed him to reflect as well as his journey on the island. Зима didn't write any sort of political poem, but merely just poems that were about life and himself.

On a cold day, he encounters a chickadee who lived on the island. Naming it as "Зима," the two had formed a companionship throughout this exile.

Over time, he began to communicate with more animals. All animals who were once enemies became his friends, and he eventually felt content and safe with living alone in this cold environment.

At some point, the Foundation had found the penal colony as well as encountering Зима during their evaluation of the area. During this investigation, he had done measures to hide away from the Foundation workers before being eventually being found and interviewed by them. Зима was invited to the Foundation, in which he accepted after some thought about the future ahead of him.

After joining the Foundation, he was assigned to Team Timekeeper after some time, and currently resides in the suitcase.

Зима is a humble but socially inept person. He can be described to as being very quiet and closed off, and often takes the time to avoid interacting with people as much as possible. He even finds it easier to talk to the animals around him considering his ability.

However, he's also politically active and has been outspoken against the Tsar and his actions. Every now and then, he picks up on the news coming from the mainland from the birds who travel to the island.

Зима's passion for poetry can't be doubted. He writes constantly when the ideas comes to him, and will do what it takes to write down his thoughts. He enjoys writing at night and when he's alone.

His poetry grew to become an outlet for his emotions and thoughts about his life and the world around him. Interpreted and loved by many who read them, the ultimate truth comes to when he talks of himself and his experiences. Зима writes not for satisfaction, but to entail his life and reflect on the humanity of the world with words unspoken.

They light a bonfire, Crackling, flickering, And before the fire leaves their eyes, they sing, What did you see? The rocks did not reply, But a young voice says, "Humanity."

-Poem excerpt, Зима's anecdote

[edwardian-girl-next-door]

"I see everything. I remember it all. Gently, lovingly, I preserve it in my heart."

~ Anna Akhmatova