Boris Pasternak

Boris Pasternak

1890–1960 · lived 70 years RU RU

Boris Pasternak was a highly acclaimed Russian poet, novelist, and translator, best known for his epic novel "Doctor Zhivago." His work often explores profound themes of love, nature, and the human condition, set against the backdrop of tumultuous historical events in Russia. Pasternak's lyrical and evocative poetry earned him international recognition, culminating in the Nobel Prize in Literature, though its acceptance led to significant personal and political turmoil. His literary contributions are marked by a deep engagement with Russian culture and a unique blend of modernist experimentation and traditional lyrical sensibility.

n. 1890-02-10, Moscovo · m. 1960-05-30, Peredelkino

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So aloof, so meek in your ways,
Now you're fire, you're pure combustion.
Only let me lock up your beauty
Deep, deep down in a poem's dungeon.


See how wholly transformed they are
By the fire in the glowing lampshade;
Edge of wall, edge of window-pane,
Our own figures and our own shadows.


There you sit on cushions, apart,
Legs tucked under you, Turkish fashion.
In the light or in the shadow,
Childlike, always, the way you reason.


Dreaming, now you thread on a string
Beads that lie on your lap in profusion.
Far too sad is your mien, too artless
Is the drift of your conversation.


Yes, love's truly a vulgar word.
I'll invent something else to supplant it,
Just for you, the whole world, all words
I will gladly rename, if you want it.


Can your sorrowful mien convey
All your hidden orebearing richness,
All that radiant seam of your heart?
Why d'you fill your eyes with such sadness?
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Bio

Identification and basic context

Full name: Boris Leonidovich Pasternak. Pseudonyms or heteronyms: Not widely known. Date and place of birth: April 10, 1890, Moscow, Russian Empire. Date and place of death: February 2, 1960, Peredelkino, Moscow Oblast, Russian SFSR, Soviet Union. Family background, social class, and cultural context of origin: Born into an intellectual and artistic family; his father, Leonid Pasternak, was a renowned painter, and his mother, Rosa Kaufman, a concert pianist. The family was of Jewish heritage but later converted to Orthodox Christianity. His upbringing was steeped in art, literature, and intellectual discourse, with frequent visits from prominent cultural figures. Nationality and language(s) of writing: Russian. Historical context in which they lived: Lived through the Russian Revolution, World War I, the Stalinist era, and World War II. His life and work were profoundly shaped by these tumultuous periods, particularly the political and social changes in the Soviet Union.

Childhood and education

Family background and social environment: Grew up in a culturally rich environment in Moscow, influenced by his artist father and pianist mother, surrounded by intellectuals and artists. Formal education and self-education: Initially pursued music, then studied philosophy at Moscow University, followed by philosophy at the University of Marburg in Germany. He also studied law. Early influences (readings, culture, religion, politics): Early influences included Symbolist poetry, German philosophy (especially Kant and Hegel), and Russian classical literature. His father's artistic milieu and his mother's musical background were also significant. Literary, philosophical, or artistic movements absorbed: Initially drawn to Futurism, but later developed his own distinct style. Influenced by Symbolism and by German Expressionism. Significant events in youth: His fascination with music, his philosophical studies in Germany, and his initial alignment with avant-garde movements.

Literary trajectory

Beginning of writing (when and how it started): Began writing poetry in his early twenties, initially influenced by Futurism. His first collection, "A Childish Year," was published in 1917. Development over time (phases, changes in style): His early work was experimental, but he gradually moved towards a more lyrical and personal style. The period of the 1940s and 1950s saw the development of his most mature and celebrated works, including "Doctor Zhivago" and the "Poems of Yuri Zhivago." Chronological evolution of the work: Moved from youthful experimentation to a deeply personal, philosophical, and historically engaged lyrical voice. His prose writing, particularly "Doctor Zhivago," became internationally famous. Contributions to magazines, newspapers, and anthologies: Published extensively in literary journals. Activity as a critic, translator, or editor: Was a prolific and highly respected translator, translating works by Shakespeare, Goethe, Rilke, and others into Russian. His translations were considered literary achievements in themselves.

Works, style, and literary characteristics

Major works with dates and context of production: "A Childish Year" (1917), "My Sister, Life" (1922), "Themes and Variations" (1923), "The Second Birth" (1932), "On Early Trains" (1943), "Doctor Zhivago" (1957), "When the Storm Clears: New Poems" (1959). "Doctor Zhivago" was written during the 1940s and 1950s and published abroad due to censorship. Dominant themes — love, death, time, nature, identity, homeland, spirituality, etc.: Profound exploration of love (romantic and spiritual), the ephemeral nature of time, the beauty and resilience of nature, the search for individual identity amidst historical upheaval, the complex relationship with the homeland, and a deep spiritual quest. Form and structure — use of the sonnet, free verse, fixed forms, metrical experimentation: Masterful use of free verse, but also adept at traditional forms and metrical experimentation, often creating a unique musicality. Poetic devices (metaphor, rhythm, musicality): Renowned for his rich imagery, complex metaphors, striking juxtapositions, and a highly musical, almost song-like quality in his verse. Tone and poetic voice — lyrical, satirical, elegiac, epic, ironic, confessional: Primarily lyrical, confessional, and elegiac, with moments of epic scope and profound philosophical reflection. Poetic voice (personal, universal, fragmented, etc.): Often personal and confessional, yet reaching for universal truths and experiences. Language and style — vocabulary, imagery density, preferred rhetorical devices: Rich, evocative vocabulary, dense imagery, often drawing from nature and everyday life to convey profound meaning. Preferred rhetorical devices include metaphor, simile, personification, and striking contrasts. Formal or thematic innovations introduced into literature: Blended modernist techniques with a deeply humanistic and lyrical sensibility, creating a unique voice that resonated widely. His prose in "Doctor Zhivago" also showcased a poetic approach to narrative. Relationship with tradition and modernity: Sought to reconcile the traditions of Russian poetry with the challenges and innovations of modernism. Associated literary movements (e.g., symbolism, modernism): Associated with Russian Futurism early on, but developed a style that transcended specific movements, often seen as a bridge between Symbolism and later modernist poetry. Lesser-known or unpublished works: Numerous poems, early drafts, and extensive correspondence.

Cultural and historical context

Relationship with historical events (wars, revolutions, regimes): Directly experienced and profoundly depicted the Russian Revolution, the Civil War, and the Stalinist era. His novel "Doctor Zhivago" is a critical portrayal of these events and their impact on individuals. Relationship with other writers or literary circles: Associated with poets like Mayakovsky and Blok in his early career, but also maintained complex relationships with official literary circles, often facing criticism and ostracization. Generation or movement to which they belong (e.g., Romanticism, Modernism, Surrealism): Often considered part of the Silver Age of Russian poetry, straddling Symbolism and Futurism, and a key figure in Russian modernism. Political or philosophical stance: Initially drawn to revolutionary ideals but became increasingly disillusioned with the Soviet regime and its suppression of artistic freedom. His work reflects a deep humanism and a belief in individual conscience over state ideology. Influence of society and culture on the work: Russian society and culture, particularly its turbulent history and rich artistic heritage, were central to his work. Dialogues and tensions with contemporaries: Engaged in debates with other writers, particularly regarding artistic responsibility during times of political change. Critical reception during life vs. posthumous recognition: Received significant critical acclaim during his life, but also faced persecution from the Soviet authorities. Posthumously, his international fame, especially for "Doctor Zhivago," grew immensely.

Personal life

Significant emotional and family relationships and how they shaped the work: His complex relationships, particularly with women like Zinaida Nikolaevna Rikhter and Marina Tsvetaeva, influenced his intensely personal and lyrical poetry. His marriage to Zinaida was a central aspect of his life. Friendships and literary rivalries: Maintained friendships with many prominent cultural figures, but also experienced tensions and rivalries within the literary establishment. Personal experiences and crises, illnesses, or conflicts: Experienced periods of intense creative output interspersed with personal struggles, illness, and the constant pressure of living under a totalitarian regime. Parallel professions (if they did not live solely from poetry): Worked as a translator and, for a period, in various administrative roles within the literary world. Religious, spiritual, or philosophical beliefs: Explored spiritual and philosophical questions deeply, moving from a more secular outlook to a profound engagement with Christian themes, particularly in "Doctor Zhivago." Political positions and civic engagement: Initially sympathetic to the revolution but became a vocal critic of Soviet repression and censorship, leading to his ostracization and exile from the official literary world.

Recognition and reception

Place in national and international literature: Considered one of the greatest Russian poets of the 20th century and an internationally renowned novelist. Awards, distinctions, and institutional recognition: Awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1958 for "Doctor Zhivago." Critical reception at the time and over time: Received mixed reception within the Soviet Union, with official condemnation alongside underground admiration. Internationally, his work, especially "Doctor Zhivago," was widely celebrated. Popularity vs. academic recognition: Highly popular internationally, particularly after the film adaptation of "Doctor Zhivago," and also a subject of extensive academic study.

Influences and legacy

Authors who influenced them: Alexander Pushkin, Mikhail Lermontov, Fyodor Tyutchev, Symbolist poets (e.g., Andrei Bely), Rainer Maria Rilke, Goethe, Shakespeare. Poets and movements they influenced: Greatly influenced subsequent generations of Russian poets, as well as poets internationally, particularly those exploring lyrical depth, complex imagery, and the intersection of personal experience with historical events. Impact on national and world literature and on later generations of poets: His work is a cornerstone of 20th-century Russian literature and has had a lasting impact on world literature through its profound humanism and artistic integrity. Inclusion in the literary canon: Universally included in the canon of Russian and world literature. Translations and international dissemination: Widely translated into numerous languages. Adaptations (music, theater, film): "Doctor Zhivago" has been adapted into a highly successful film (1965) and a television series. Academic studies dedicated to the work: Extensive academic scholarship exists on his poetry, prose, and translations.

Interpretation and critical analysis

Possible readings of the work: "Doctor Zhivago" has been interpreted as a critique of the Soviet system, a celebration of individual spirit and artistic freedom, and a profound meditation on fate and history. His poetry is analyzed for its complex interplay of nature, love, and spirituality. Philosophical and existential themes: Explores themes of free will versus determinism, the search for meaning in a chaotic world, the nature of suffering, and the enduring power of love and beauty. Controversies or critical debates: The most significant controversy surrounded the Nobel Prize and his subsequent denunciation by Soviet authorities, leading to intense debate about artistic freedom and political engagement.

Curiosities and lesser-known aspects

Lesser-known aspects of personality: Despite his profound lyrical gifts, he could be intensely private and sometimes stubborn. Contradictions between life and work: The contrast between the deeply spiritual and humanistic themes in his work and the often harsh, politically charged reality of his life in the Soviet Union. Significant or anecdotal episodes that illuminate the author’s profile: His refusal to participate in the denunciation of Akhmatova, his later difficult relationship with the state, and his eventual forced acceptance of exile in spirit, if not entirely in body. Objects, places, or rituals associated with poetic creation: The dacha at Peredelkino became a symbolic space for his later work. Writing habits: Known for intense periods of work, often revising extensively. Curious episodes: His son, Alexander Pasternak, was a notable artist and art critic. Manuscripts, diaries, or correspondence: His extensive correspondence provides deep insights into his life and thoughts.

Death and memory

Circumstances of death: Died of lung cancer. Posthumous publications: Numerous posthumous collections of his poetry and prose, including further works related to "Doctor Zhivago" and collections of his letters.

Poems

62

I hang limp on the Creator's pen

I hang limp on the Creator's pen

I hang limp on the Creator's pen
Like a large drop of lilac gloss-paint.


Underneath are dykes' secrets; the air
From the railways is sodden and sticky,
Of the fumes of coal and night fires reeking.
But the moment night kills sunset's glare,
It turns pink itself, tinged with far flares,
And the fence stands stiff, paradox-stricken.


It keeps muttering: stop it till dawn.
Let the dry whiting finally settle.
Hard as nails is the worm-eaten ground,
And the echo's as keen as a skittle.


Warm spring wind, spots of cheviot and mud,
Early naileries' hoots faraway,
On the grater of cobble-stones road,
As on radishes lavishly sprayed,
Tears stand out clearly at break of day.


Like an acrid drop of thick lead paint,
I hang on to the Creator's pen.
481

Humble home. But rum, and charcoal...

Humble home. But rum, and charcoal...

Humble home. But rum, and charcoal
Grog of sketches on the wall,
And the cell becomes a mansion,
And the garret is a hall.


No more waves of housecoats: questions,
Even footsteps disappear;
Glassy mica fills the latticed
Work-encompassed vault of air.


Voice, commanding as a levy,
Does not leave a thing immune,
Smelting, fusing… In his gullet
Flows the tin of molten spoons.


What is fame for him, and glory,
Name, position in the world,
When the sudden breath of fusion
Blends his words into the Word?


He will burn for it his chattels,
Friendship, reason, daily round.
On his desk-a glass, unfinished,
World forgotten, clock unwound.


Clustered stanzas change like seething
Wax at fortune-telling times.
He will bless the sleeping children
With the steam of molten rhymes.
578

Hops

Hops


Beneath the willow wound round with ivy
we take cover from the worst
of the storm, with a greatcoat round
our shoulders and my hands around your waist.


I've got it wrong. That isn't ivy
entwined in the bushes round
the wood, but hops. You intoxicate me!
Let's spread the greatcoat on the ground.
437

Here will be echoes in the mountains...

Here will be echoes in the mountains...

Here will be echoes in the mountains,
The distant landslides' rumbling boom,
The rocks, the dwellings in the village,
The sorry little inn, the gloom


Of something black beyond the Terek,
Clouds moving heavily. Up there
The day was breaking very slowly;
It dawned, but light was nowhere near.


One sensed the heaviness of darkness
For miles ahead around Kazbek
Wound on the heights: though some were trying
To throw the halter from their neck.


As if cemented in an oven,
In the strange substance of a dream,
A pot of poisoned food, the region
Of Daghestan there slowly steamed.


Its towering peaks towards us rolling,
All black from top to foot, it strained
To meet our car, if not with clashing
Of daggers, then with pouring rain.


The mountains were preparing trouble.
The handsome giants, fierce and black,
Each one more evil than the other
Were closing down upon our track.
470

From early dawn the thirtieth of April...

From early dawn the thirtieth of April...

From early dawn the thirtieth of April
Is given up to children of the town,
And caught in trying on the festive necklace,
By dusk it only just is settling down.


Like heaps of squashy berries under muslin
The town emerges out of crimson gauze.
Along the streets the boulevards are dragging
Their twilight with them, like a rank of dwarves.


The evening world is always eve and blossom,
But this one with a sprouting of its own
From May-day anniversaries will flower
One day into a commune fully blown.


For long it will remain a day of shifting,
Pre-festive cleaning, fanciful decor,
As once it used to be with Whitsun birches
Or pan-Athenian fires long before.


Just so they will go on, conveying actors
To their assembly points; beat sand; just so
Pull up towards illuminated ledges
The plywood boards, the crimson calico.


Just so in threes the sailors briskly walking
Will skirt the grass in gardens and in parks,
The moon at nightfall sink into the pavements
Like a dead city or a burnt-out hearth.


But with each year more splendid and more spreading
The taut beginning of the rose will bloom,
More clearly grow in health and sense of honour,
Sincerity more visibly will loom.


The living folksongs, customs and traditions
Will ever spreading, many-petalled lay
Their scent on fields and industries and meadows
From early buddings on the first of May,


Until the full fermented risen spirit
Of ripened years will shoot up, like the smell
Of humid centifolia. It will have to
Reveal itself, it cannot help but tell.
578

Hamlet

Hamlet


The murmurs ebb; onto the stage I enter.
I am trying, standing in the door,
To discover in the distant echoes
What the coming years may hold in store.


The nocturnal darkness with a thousand
Binoculars is focused onto me.
Take away this cup, O Abba Father,
Everything is possible to Thee.


I am fond of this Thy stubborn project,
And to play my part I am content.
But another drama is in progress,
And, this once, O let me be exempt.


But the plan of action is determined,
And the end irrevocably sealed.
I am alone; all round me drowns in falsehood:
Life is not a walk across a field.
513

Feasts

Feasts


I drink the gall of skies in autumn, tuberoses'
Sweet bitterness in your betrayals burning stream;
I drink the gall of nights, of crowded parties' noises,
Of sobbing virgin verse, and of a throbbing dream.


We fiends of studious fight a battle everlasting
Against our daily bread - can't stand the sober mood.
The troubled wind of nights is merely a toastmaster
Whose toasts, as like as not, will do no one much good.


Heredity and death are our guests at table.
A quiet dawn will paint bright-red the tops of trees.
An anapaest, like mice, will on the bread-plate scrabble,
And Cinderella will rush in to change her dress.


The floors have all been swept, and everything is dainty,
And like a child's sweet kiss, breathes quietly my verse,
And Cinderella flees-by cab on days of plenty,
And on shanks' pony when the last small coin is lost.
523

First Snow

First Snow

Outside the snowstorm spins, and hides
The world beneath a pall.
Snowed under are the paper-girl,
The papers and the stall.


Quite often our experience
Has led us to believe
That snow falls out of reticence,
In order to deceive.


Concealing unrepentantly
And trimming you in white,
How often he has brought you home
Into the town at night!


While snowflakes blind and blanket out
The distance more and more,
A tipsy shadow gropes his way
And staggers to the door.


And then he enters hastily…
Again, for all I know,
Someone has something sinful to
Conceal in all this snow!
564

Do not fret, do not cry, do not tax...

Do not fret, do not cry, do not tax...

Do not fret, do not cry, do not tax
Your last strength, and your heart do not torture.
You're alive, you're inside me, intact,
As a buttress, a friend, an adventure.


I've no fear of standing exposed
As a fraud in my faith in the future.
It's not life, not a union of souls
We are breaking off, but a hoax mutual.


From straw mattresses' sick wretchedness
To the fresh air of wide open spaces!
It's my brother and hand. It's addressed
Like a letter, to you, crisp and bracing.


Like an envelope, tear it across,
With Horizon begin correspondence,
Give your speech the sheer Alpian force,
Overcome the sick sense of forlornness.


O'er the bowl of Bavarian lakes
With the marrow of osseous mountains
You will know I was not a glib fake
And of sugared assurances spouter.


Fare ye well and God bless you! Our bond
And our honour aren't tamely domestic.
Like a sprout in the sunlight, unbend,
And then things will assume a new aspect.
533

Fairy Tale

Fairy Tale

Once, in times forgotten,
In a fairy place,
Through the steppe, a rider
Made his way apace.


While he sped to battle,
Nearing from the dim
Distance, a dark forest
Rose ahead of him.


Something kept repeating,
Seemed his heart to graze:
Tighten up the saddle,
Fear the watering-place.


But he did not listen.
Heeding but his will,
At full speed he bounded
Up the wooded hill;


Rode into a valley,
Turning from the mound,
Galloped through a meadow,
Skirted higher ground;


Reached a gloomy hollow,
Found a trail to trace
Down the woodland pathway
To the watering-place.


Deaf to voice of warning,
And without remorse,
Down the slope, the rider
Led his thirsty horse.


Where the stream grew shallow,
Winding through the glen,
Eerie flames lit up the
Entrance to a den.


Through thick clouds of crimson
Smoke above the spring,
An uncanny calling
Made the forest ring.


And the rider started,
And with peering eye
Urged his horse in answer
To the haunting cry.



Then he saw the dragon,
And he gripped his lance;
And his horse stood breathless
Fearing to advance.


Thrice around a maiden
Was the serpent wound;
Fire-breathing nostrils
Cast a glare around.


And the dragon's body
Moved his scaly neck,
At her shoulder snaking
Whiplike forth and back.


By that country's custom
Was a young and fair
Captive brought as ransom
To the dragon's lair.


This then was the tribute
That the people owed
To the worm-protection
For a poor abode.


Now the dragon hugged his
Victim in alarm,
And the coils grew tighter
Round her throat and arm.


Skyward looked the horseman
With imploring glance,
And for the impending
Fight he couched his lance.


Tightly closing eyelids.
Heights and cloudy spheres.
Rivers. Waters. Boulders.
Centuries and years.


Helmetless, the wounded
Lies, his life at stake.
With his hooves the charger
Tramples down the snake.


On the sand, together-
Dragon, steed, and lance;
In a swoon the rider,



The maiden-in a trance.


Blue the sky; soft breezes
Tender noon caress.
Who is she? A lady?
Peasant girl? Princess?


Now in joyous wonder
Cannot cease to weep;
Now again abandoned
To unending sleep.


Now, his strength returning,
Opens up his eyes;
Now anew the wounded
Limp and listless lies.


But their hearts are beating.
Waves surge up, die down;
Carry them, and waken,
And in slumber drown.


Tightly closing eyelids.
Heights and cloudy spheres.
Rivers. Waters. Boulders.
Centuries and years.
577

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