Время всегда хорошее: Время - Детство! (Время — детство!) (Russian Edition)

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ComiXology Thousands of Digital Comics. East Dane Designer Men's Fashion. Shopbop Designer Fashion Brands. When literary dignitaries came to Russia, he was often the person they wanted to meet. But he could not get a poem published in the Soviet Union, not to speak of obtaining permission to attend literary conferences outside the Soviet Union. This is the sort of tragicomedy in which the USSR specialized. The authorities eventually tired of it, though, and one day, in June , he was simply taken to the airport and put on a plane. He did not know whether the plane was going east or west.

It went west, to Vienna, and at the airport he was met by the American Slavist Carl Proffer, whom he knew, and whose small press, Ardis, in Ann Arbor, Michigan, would publish a number of his writings in Russian. Brodsky stayed for four weeks. Auden got him some money and called various people to say that he was coming. Proffer arranged for him to be given a job as poet in residence at the University of Michigan, where he himself taught. In July Brodsky flew to the United States, where he would live until his death twenty-three years later. Almost always, he taught—after Michigan at other schools, above all, Mt.

Holyoke, where he became a chaired professor. Over the years he received just about every important award a poet could want, culminating in the Nobel Prize in Brodsky, Auden said, was a traditionalist in the sense that he is interested in what most lyric poets in all ages have been interested in, that is, in personal encounters with nature, human artifacts, persons loved or revered, and in reflections upon the human condition, death, and the meaning of existence. This seems rather soft-spoken, but it is accurate. Brodsky was not a modernist in the sense of embracing the absurd or expressing weariness.

And because of what he saw as the gravity of his subject matter, he hated any looseness in a poem. He said that the poet Evgeny Rein, a friend of his, taught him: If you cast over a poem a certain magic veil that removes adjectives and verbs, when you remove the veil the paper still should be dark with nouns. It reminds me of the frames that beekeepers use. When you pull one of the frames out of the box, it is thick with bees, clotted with them.

The note of menace here is also true to Brodsky. He too showed a hidden terror, and long before his trial he had cause. As a small child he nearly died of starvation during the siege of Leningrad. Partly to help out, Brodsky quit school at fifteen and took various low-level jobs, including, at one point, cutting and sewing bodies in a prison morgue.

He fell in love with a painter, Marina Basmanova, but soon his friend and fellow poet Dmitri Bobyshev was also in love with Basmanova. Brodsky was twice detained in psychiatric hospitals. He and his mother were in a train station, which was bedlam, because the war was just over and people were trying to get home: My eye caught sight of an old, bald, crippled man with a wooden leg, who was trying to get into car after car, but each time was pushed away by the people who already were hanging on the footboards.

The train started to move and the old man hopped along. For that modesty as well as his tremendous poetic powers he was cherished not just as an artist. He was a moral hero, to many people. One was Alvis Hermanis born in , who is an important man in European theater. Hermanis started as a movie actor in his native Latvia. Now he is a director and works very widely across Europe, especially in German-speaking theater and in opera. He just directed a Damnation de Faust at the Paris Opera.

In he will stage Lohengrin at Bayreuth. Since he has also been the head of the New Riga Theatre, a playhouse that opened, under that name, in In later years it was put to various uses by Nazis and Communists, but in it reopened as a repertory theater. In the early s, Hermanis was invited to perform in New York, and he stayed in the United States for two years. It was a difficult time for him.

Then he moved to San Diego, where he lived in a welfare hotel and communicated with no one. For six months they did not know where I was.

Время всегда хорошее by Андрей Жвалевский, Евгения Пастернак & Вера Коротаева on Apple Books

He was overwhelmed by it. One day, at closing time, he could not bear to part with his Brodsky book, so he decided to steal it. So when I tried to leave, many bells rang. I was so humiliated. I had to take this book out of my pants. He is like a surgeon who is cutting with a knife your belly and looking straight in your eyes.

He is killing you, and he is telling you. I had never before read a writer who has so no hope, who gives not the slightest chance. Whatever illusions you had, Brodsky makes you say goodbye to them. And so you achieve a sort of Buddhistic calm. Mikhail Baryshnikov is a favorite son of Riga.

Both his parents were Russian, but after the war the Soviet Union was faced with a drastic housing shortage, and the outlying territories were forced to take in many Russians, including Lieutenant Colonel Nikolay Petrovich Baryshnikov, who taught military topography, and his wife, Aleksandra Vasilievna. By the time Baryshnikov graduated from the Vaganova Institute and joined the Kirov in , Brodsky had already returned from Norenskaya, and for the next seven years the two men lived in the same city. Brodsky was a dangerous person to be seen with.

By this time, furthermore, Baryshnikov too was under suspicion, as a defection risk. In , Brodsky was thrown out of Russia, and two years later Baryshnikov threw himself out. On tour in Toronto, he walked out of the stage door after a performance, signed some autographs, and then, instead of getting into the company bus, he turned and ran. A getaway car, arranged by friends, was waiting a few blocks away. He was now a Western artist.

Время всегда хорошее

There are things to talk about. He sat down, and they talked for a long time. They spoke to each other every day. In Brodsky, born eight years before him, Baryshnikov acquired a kind of older brother, and he needed one. Though a number of people were very kind to him, he did not, at this early point, have close friends in the United States, and he was slow in making them, because he had no time to study English.

With Brodsky he could speak in Russian, and they had a city, a government—in some measure, a history—in common. I acquired a kind of certainty. When he was in town, he and Baryshnikov would take walks along the nearby Hudson River. His house was so cozy. And there were always interesting people: He was a stern judge. Brodsky loved water—he loved oceans, rivers. He adored Venice—he wrote a book on it, Watermark—and the Venetians made him an honorary citizen.

When he was young, he and his parents had a game where they would converse in a sort of cat-talk, meows in various registers. He said that if he had to live another life he would like to be a cat in Venice, or even a rat. He called Baryshnikov Mysh, or Mouse. He cared about world events, and he hated to miss the evening news. He was a skirt-chaser, and women were crazy about him, too. The prospect of his birthday thrilled him, and he would always stage a huge feast. They partied all night long. But Brodsky would bring him a book, with an inscription in it.

In his interview with Laiks, Baryshnikov pulled one of the birthday books off his shelf and read the inscription: He has dumplings inside him.