poet of Pushkin's time
Igor Pound
The poet's prophecies came true
Eternal world of high truths...
Not! Dreams of heaven with a bold brush
I didn't manage to catch up...
When the prophet of freedom is bold
Anguished poet,
Left the orphaned world
Leaving glory a hot light.
And the shadow of world sorrow,
Laudatory thunder sounded
Your poems follow him ...
- the twenty-year-old Venevitinov prophetically addresses "To Pushkin" in 1926. And on the arrival of the new one - 1827 - he will write, saying goodbye to the old, last year in his life:
But listen, you cruel fugitive!
I swear to you in a farewell moment:
You did not rush off without a return;
I will follow you
And the upcoming brother
I will pay all my heavy debt.
In the spring, unfortunately, the author of these lines will not be. In 10 years, the “mentor” Pushkin himself will also go into oblivion.
His name is shrouded in legends...
How, for example, the following poetic prediction came true:
Ages will fly by, and perhaps
That someone will disturb my ashes
And it will open you up again...
"To my ring"
In 1930, Venevitinov's grave was transferred to the Novodevichy cemetery - during the exhumation of the ashes, the ring donated by Princess Volkonskaya was removed from the ring finger of the poet's right hand and placed as a relic in the Moscow State Literary Museum.
The legacy of Dmitry Vladimirovich is small - about 40 lyric poems, about the same number of letters, the beginning of an unwritten novel, several articles, excerpts from translations. Less than 10 poems, 5 philosophical and critical texts were published during his lifetime. But interest in his personality and creativity does not fade away.
For example, philological battles are still being waged over literary competencies, free interpretations and the publication of Venevitinov's supposedly unpublished letters. In fact, quite familiar to specialists. (A. Reitblat. "Unknown known". UFO, No. 126, 2014).
“Review of Russian Literature in 1829” by I.V. Kireevsky, a friend of D.V. in a circle of philosophers - the first attempt to draw a literary portrait of Venevitinov. Where a high assessment is given to the talent of a young yet very poet and where “consonance of mind and heart” is noted as a distinctive character of the spirit of flight, independence and courage in the image of existence. And his very fantasy was more the music of thoughts and feelings than a play of the imagination: "This proves that he was born even more for philosophy than poetry."
Many people took up the solution to the creative person of Venevitinov: M. Pogodin (one of the members of the “society of wisdom”), P. Polevoy, N. Kotlyarovsky, who D.V. - a conductor of Schellingism on Russian soil; also the nephew of the poet M. Venevitinov. Belinsky, Chernyshevsky, Herzen were taken, who believed, they say, D.V. full of "dreams and ideas of 1825".
Further - D. Blagoy, L. Ginzburg, L. Tartakovskaya. The abundance of attempts to unravel the mystery of the identity of the untimely departed writer is also explained by the scarcity of biographical material about the life of this truly remarkable, marvelous young man. The speeches of which, with their philosophical abstraction, “led us into rapture” (A. Koshelev).
Nature endowed Dmitry Vladimirovich Venevitinov with a wide variety of talents: he knew Latin, Greek, French, German and English. He studied painting with the artist Laperche. Music - from the composer Genishta. He was fond of poetry, philosophy, translations, critical work.
Having completed his education at Moscow University, Venevitinov daily and hourly strives to expand his knowledge: he becomes a member of the Society of Philosophy. In which its participants (V. Odoevsky, I. Kireevsky, A. Koshelev and others) studied the philosophy of Schelling, were interested in issues of aesthetics and art. Translates the works of Oken, Plato (“I'm starting to get used to Plato ...”). Virgil, Goethe, Hoffmann. Reflects on the role of education in Russia.
True, many people mocked and mocked the sophistication of the philosophers. Including Pushkin with Kyukhlya: “... Break out, for God's sake, from this rotten, smelly Moscow, where you will become limp in body and soul! Is it your business to serve as an object of surprise for modern ignoramuses - Polevoy and similar owls? - Kiukhelbecker wrote maliciously to Odoevsky.
Alexander Sergeevich, on the other hand, called the wise men "archival youths." Possibly referring to the following lines by Venevitinov:
... sometimes you dig in the dust,
And, right, it happened to tear off
Such a column that you yourself are on the ground,
It was like the sky was opening up.
Bullying of the wise men, I think, is the essence of another article - at the heart of the underwear and banter is, of course, Pushkin's eternal pursuit of his own unattainable perfection. As well as the friends around him...
In the age of geniuses, tragic and great, whose even light reproaches sound unnaturally stupid, all of them - creators, poets - being extraordinary nuggets, naturally and without a doubt trailed behind Pushkin. Imitating or opposing himself to him.
In addition, Pushkin and Venevitinov were related, which played a big role in the relationship. Bringing poets together in a human and creative way. In general, family ties in secular society meant quite a lot.
A couple of lines for comparison:
But when the eyes are insidioussuddenly enchant youOr mouth in the darkness of the nightKiss not loving -
Dear friend! from crime,
From heart new wounds,
From betrayal, from oblivion
Save my talisman!
Pushkin. "Mascot"
*
... But not love now by you
Blessed eternal flame
And over you, in anguish of the heart,
I made a holy vow...
Not! friendship in the bitter hour of farewell
Gave sobbing love
You as a pledge of compassion.
Oh, be my faithful talisman!
Venevitinov. "To my ring"
Yes, and the ardent glances of both to the "queen of the Moscow world" Princess Zinaida Volkonskaya added fuel to the fire with regards to friendly jokes. True, unlike the omnivorous, quickly flammable and amorous Pushkin, Dmitry's passion for Volkonskaya downright tore the soul of the unfortunate philosopher. Deprived him of peace and, perhaps, "accelerated an early death" (biographer Pyatkovsky). What is lyrically captured in the poems "To my goddess", "Elegy", "Italy", "To my ring" and others
Now chase the wonderful life
And resurrect every moment in it,
For every sound of her call -
Respond with a hymn.
He highly appreciates the role of poetry and literature in the life of the people: “... read, dream - let the veil of time fall before you”, “there is no limit to the beautiful”, “the poet is the son of the gods, a favorite of muses and inspiration”, “the poet’s lot on earth is more enviable "," Genius is available for the voice of sincere hearts, "- we read in the verses of a very young man.
Venevitinov loftily writes about sculpture: "The sacred monuments of human efforts are alive - they have not been touched by the erasing scythe of time." About painting: "The feelings of a person completely poured out onto a dead canvas, and the thought of the infinite became understandable to him." About the music: “The feeling of life has spread everywhere; everything resounded with the sounds of joy, and all the sounds merged into a common magical harmony.
For a full understanding of Venevitinov's attitude to education, his critical articles are important.
About the novel "Eugene Onegin": "He is a new lovely flower in the field of our literature." On the tragedy Boris Godunov by Pushkin: "Amazing in its simplicity and energy, it can be boldly placed along with everything that is best in Shakespeare and Goethe." Thoughtful analysis of texts by Polevoy, Merzlyakov, Pogodin is important.
In 1826, the article "On the state of education in Russia" was written. By the way, in the same year, Pushkin developed Notes on Public Education, to which Nicholas I reacted ambiguously: “Enlightenment, which serves as the basis for perfection, is a rule that is dangerous for public peace!” - as if the Emperor shook his finger at Pushkin.
And yet, it is about Culture with a capital letter, without which there is no freedom and “true activity” in Russia, that Venevitinov’s article is talking about.
Every person, endowed with enthusiasm, familiar with “high pleasures”, strives for education, spiritual growth: “Self-knowledge is the goal and crown of man,” the author is convinced. For the sake of this, the artist creates, animating the canvas and marble. The poet writes poetry, proclaiming the triumph of the mind. The same goal is pursued by humanity, striving for enlightenment. That is, to self-knowledge of the degree to which it is aware of its affairs and determines the scope of its action.
What degree has Russia reached in this field? he asks.
Alas, if all the “independent peoples” developed education from sources, so to speak, domestic, local. That Russia received everything from the outside. Her enlightenment, like art, is imitative. It lacks real freedom and true activity.
Russia has taken only the outward form of education. She erected an imaginary edifice of literature for no reason whatsoever. The core of our enlightenment consists of the confused judgments of the French about philosophy and art. Which are revered by laws: conditional fetters (like the trinity) and the ignorant self-confidence of the French were the subject of imitation, and the wrong rules were replaced by the absence of any rules in our country.
Some of the writers believed that the development of culture in Russia was evidenced by the general passion for expressing themselves in poetry. Here Venevitinov gives free rein to his causticity: "... the large number of poets in any nation is the surest sign of its frivolity." After all, the true poets of all nations, all ages and times were deep, deepest thinkers. Were philosophers, so to speak, the crown of enlightenment. And often a poetic feeling in people only frees them from the obligation to think. Distracts from the lofty goal of improvement. And therefore it is necessary to "think more than produce"!
How, after all, to educate Russia? Venevitinov proposes the following program.
First, relying on the solid roots of modern philosophy, to provide a complete picture of the development of the "human mind". The writings of writers should help this. Journals that tell about theoretical studies, their application to the history of society and Melpomene in particular: "Philosophy and its application to all epochs of sciences and arts - this is the subject that deserves our special attention."
Secondly, one must without fail study the history of the ancient world. But one should not forget one's own history, one's own beginnings: "The spirit of ancient art presents us with an abundant harvest of thoughts, without which the latest art loses most of its value."
Responsibility for the “enlightenment” of Russia lies primarily with educated people, writers, poets and journalists, who stand “on a par with thoughts” of the century and the enlightened world.
Venevitinov appealed to his young compatriots to be useful to the people, to dedicate our education, our moral abilities to them. To sacrifice everything for the welfare and prosperity of the fatherland. This will help the true civilizational progress of Russia, without which it has no future.
Venevitinov is convinced: “To live is nothing but to create the future. It will be again, this era of happiness!”
More enviable than a poet's destiny on earth.
From infancy, he became friends with nature,
And the heart of the stone saved from the cold,
And the rebellious mind is brought up by freedom,
And a ray of inspiration lit up in the eyes.
He clothes the whole world in harmonious sounds;
Is the heart embarrassed by the excitement of flour -
He will cry out grief in burning verses.
How many times have I convinced myself of the truth of this aphorism of the great Russian actress! I will describe another such case.Kazakhstan. Summer of the distant 1952. On the banks of the Alma-Atinka River, which is rapidly escaping from the mountains, there is a group of geologists - participants in the geological excursion. All attention is focused on a middle-aged man with an open forehead and slightly curly hair combed back. He enthusiastically talks about global tectonic processes that change the appearance and structure of our planet. It was, as it were, a continuation of his report, read out the day before at the Kazakhstan Geological Conference. The meeting then brought together in Alma-Ata representatives of "all branches of the geological troops" - stratigraphers, tectonists, mines, geologists-surveyors, prospectors and scouts. It was one of the first such representative post-war meetings of geologists. Professionally, I also acquired a lot of useful things there, having recently graduated from the Moscow Geological Prospecting Institute and working in the Karaganda coal basin.
And the geologist who interested us turned out to be Nikolai Alexandrovich Shtreis, a well-known Moscow tectonist. I was struck by his appearance. He looked very little like a geologist. Exquisitely dressed, well-groomed, with refined, unhurried manners, he looked more like an artist or a poet. Many years later, I learned that Streiss was the author of excellent poetry. Moreover, in his youth, the great Vakhtangovist Boris Vasilievich Shchukin “noticed” him, began to engage in acting with him. But geology prevailed, although at his Geological Institute, Streis often participated in amateur performances with invariable success. For many years he was an active participant in the annual tectonic meetings held here at the Faculty of Geology of Moscow State University or at the Academic Geological Institute.
The reader has the right to ask: what does Venevitinov have to do with it?
And despite the fact that for many years Streis was haunted by the story of love and death of this wonderful poet, a contemporary of Pushkin. The talented and handsome young man was widely educated, read Horace, Sophocles and Aeschylus in the original, was actively engaged not only in poetry, but also in music and painting. By the beauty and nobility of his face, he was compared with Byron.
At the end of 1826, Venevitinov, at the insistence of his parents, left Moscow and entered the service of the Collegium of Foreign Affairs in St. Petersburg, where Pushkin, Tyutchev, Griboyedov and other prominent Russians worked in those years. And the persistence of the parents was associated with their desire to save their son from a destructive passion for the famous Moscow beauty Zinaida Aleksandrovna Volkonskaya. The famous salon in her ancestral house on Tverskaya near Pushkin Square (where the Nikolai Ostrovsky Museum is now located) gathered famous writers, artists, actors and musicians. Volkonskaya possessed many talents, a wonderful voice, performed in Rossini's operas in Paris and Rome. Pushkin and Vyazemsky, Mickiewicz and Baratynsky devoted many inspirational lines to her, Bryullov and other artists painted her portraits.
But Venevitinov's love was unrequited. The reason for this was, apparently, not only a big difference in age (Volkonskaya had a fifteen-year-old son). In order to somehow console the young man in love, when parting, she took off her hand and gave him a ring that she bought in Italy, found during the excavations of Herculaneum. Venevitinov put the farewell gift of his beloved woman on his ring finger and promised never to part with it. Soon the poem "To my ring" was born:
You were dug in a dusty grave,
Herald of love for centuries
And again you are grave dust
You will be bequeathed, my ring
Oh, be my faithful talisman!
Keep me from grievous wounds
And light, and an insignificant crowd,
From the caustic thirst for false glory,
From a seductive dream
And from spiritual emptiness
Ages will fly by, and perhaps
That someone will disturb my ashes
And it will open you up again:
And again timid love
You will whisper superstitiously
Words of tormenting passions,
And again you will be her friend,
As it was for me, my ring is true.
Already in poor health, Venevitinov caught a cold in the frosty and foggy winter of 1927 and died before he was 22 years old. He was buried in St. Petersburg at Nikola Morsky, and was buried in Moscow at the former Simonov Monastery. A century passed, as Venevitinov predicted, his ashes were disturbed - the cemetery interfered with new construction. When the zinc coffin was opened, a ring was found on the poet's ring finger. He darkened, gave cracks. As a historical value, it was transferred to the Literary Museum, and the ashes of Venevitinov were reburied at the Novodevichy Cemetery.
This story inspired Alexander Shtreis to create another poem about the Herculanean ring.
Venevitinov's ring
Twice you rose from the dust
Pompeian swarthy hand
With you alone, in the arms of fear
Frozen in the lace of a scarf.
Pledge of love, what a mystery
Kept in a fatal secret?
Your fate is extraordinary
Who will own you now?
On the finger of a fragile skeleton
This passion has been breathing for centuries,
So that the heart of a young poet
Could take off, burn, fall.
Silent ring, gift of the goddess
In moments of grief and longing
He took as a memory of the shrine
Wear to the grave.
Metal touch
Burned with grave passion,
It fluttered again
And, inanimate, came to life.
With prayer, without grumbling, without anger
He carried his lot to the end
And a word of powerful melody
Blowed up stubborn hearts.
And he fell silent ... he was gone,
They buried the ring with the inanimate,
And breathe slowly again
In the earth earthly passion over him.
A hundred years have passed. gray slabs
Destroyed by a daring citizen,
But only covered with ulcers
There was only one ring under them.
And here is the spacious hall of the museum
Now it pushes him like a reservation.
He, with a dull glow of flame,
Loses royal fire...
Many years later, a young lady, after reading this poem, gave Streis a copy of the ring. And Venevitinov's Ring received a new ending:
And I look spellbound
I will marry with a secret, I will be evil,
So that the ring is also resurrected
Wear with frenzy and struggle.
The geologist and poet Nikolai Aleksandrovich Shtreis died in 1990 and was buried at the old Novodevichy Cemetery, not far from the grave of the poet Dmitry Venevitinov.
Afterword.
I learned about this story from the book of a colleague and friend N.A. Shtreis Academician Yuri Mikhailovich Pushcharovsky (“Among geologists. Essays on scientists”, Moscow: GEOS, 1999). He placed in it the story of Tatyana Solovieva (reprinted from the St. Petersburg Panorama magazine, 1992, No. 12, pp. 37–38), to whom a copy of Venevitinov's ring was inherited. My attempt to find out from the academician about the personality and fate of Tatyana Solovieva was unsuccessful, as was a similar attempt made earlier by Yu.M. Pushcharovsky.
Mikhail Vladimirovich Golitsyn,
Professor of the Faculty of Geology, Moscow State University
Voronezh Regional Institute
advanced training and retraining of educators
“He was young, and he made up his fate ...
Yes, untimely ... I leafed through the sheets of my life "
Poets of Pushkin
D.V. Venevitinov
Completed by: Shchegoleva N.M. teacher of Russian language and literature MKOU Komsomolskaya secondary school of Ramonsky district
9th grade students
There are special poets who are like promises, but doomed to fail. The genuine flame flickering in their eyes and verses does not have time to flare up enough to illuminate everything around them widely and for a long time. But he falls with bewitching reflections into other eyes, into other verses, and the poet who has not been embodied, who has not revealed himself, still remains to live as a reminder of the genius buried alive in him.
Venevitinov Dmitry Vladimirovich (1805-1827)
Venevitinov Dmitry Vladimirovich was born on September 14, 1805 in an old and wealthy noble family in Moscow in Krivokolenny Lane. The house, which was acquired by his father, an ensign of the guard, has survived to this day. It stands not far from Myasnitskaya Street, at the first turn of the alley. There is a memorial plaque on it, which says that in this house at the Venevitinovs A.S. Pushkin read "Boris Godunov".
The future poet spent his childhood happily. Having lost his father early, he was taken care of by his mother, a beautiful and intelligent woman who paid great attention to the upbringing and education of her son. Until the age of 8, she taught Dmitry herself, and then mentors were invited to him, among whom the intelligent and enlightened French Alsatian Dorer had a great influence on Dmitry. He taught Venevitinov French and ancient Roman literature. And the future poet studied Greek under the guidance of the Greek Bailo, who was known for his translations of the Greek classics.
Venevitinov grew up as a very talented and intelligent person. He drew well, played music well and even composed music. At the age of seventeen, Venevitinov began to attend lectures at the university, but did not become a student. He listened to lectures by A. F. Merzlyakov, I. I. Davydov, M. G. Pavlov and professor of anatomy Loder. The last three tried to connect the teaching of their subject with the then dominant philosophical system of Schelling in the West, which inspired Venevitinov to study German philosophy. Venevitinov soon attracted everyone's attention with his clear and deep mind, philosophical thinking, thanks to which he received the title "poet of thought." He also showed these brilliant qualities in a circle of gifted and developed students, the center of which was N. M. Rozhalin, and in which young people philosophized and read their own compositions on abstract topics.
He was very handsome. Here is the testimony of a contemporary: “... a handsome man in the full sense of the word. Tall, like a statue of marble. His face, besides beauty, had some other inexplicable charm. Huge eyes, blue, pubescent with very long
eyelashes, shone with the mind.
In 1825, having passed the final exams, the poet decided to work in the Moscow archive of the Collegium of Foreign Affairs, intending to later serve in the diplomatic department abroad. A diplomatic career was then very fashionable, and all the members of the philosophical circle met again in the collegium. The circle went on with its life. Venevitinov began publishing the journal Moskovsky Vestnik in the spirit of his program, according to which the main task of the Russian periodical was "to create scientific aesthetic criticism in our country on the basis of German speculative philosophy and to inculcate in the public consciousness the conviction of the need to apply philosophical principles to the study of all eras of science and arts."
Arriving in Moscow at the beginning of 1826, A.S. Pushkin quickly made friends with Venevitinov, this rapprochement and friendship was facilitated by the distant relationship of the two poets.
At the end of 1826, Venevitinov left Moscow and went to St. Petersburg to a new place of service. This was facilitated by the platonic love for Zinaida Aleksandrovna Volkonskaya, who was older than him.
Zinaida Alexandrovna Volkonskaya enthusiastically read Russian literature, collected and studied domestic antiquities, she was especially interested in folk tales and legends, customs and songs. She wrote a lot herself. Her poems, written in Russian, French and Italian, were published in domestic and European magazines. Pushkin spoke approvingly of her stories and short stories. 
P. Benvenuti Portrait of Z.A. Volkonskaya 1820s
“In Moscow, the house of Princess Zinaida Volkonskaya was an elegant gathering place for all the remarkable and selective personalities of modern society,” S. P. Shevyrev recalled. - Representatives of the big world, dignitaries and handsome men, youth and mature age, people of mental labor, professors, writers, journalists, poets, artists joined here. Everything in this house bore the imprint of service to art and thought. There were readings, concerts, dilettantes and lovers of Italian opera performances in it. Among the artists and at the head of them was the mistress of the house herself. Those who heard her cannot forget the impression that she made with her full and sonorous contralto and animated performance as Tancred in Rossini's opera. I still remember and hear how, in the presence of Pushkin and on the first day of meeting him, she sang his elegy, set to music by Genishtoy:
The light of day has gone out,
A blue evening fog fell on the sea ...
Pushkin was vividly touched by this subtle and artistic seduction:
Among scattered Moscow,
With the talk of whist and boston,
You love Apollo games.
Queen of muses and beauty,
You hold with a tender hand
Magic scepter of inspiration,
And over a pensive brow,
Double crowned with a wreath,
And the genius curls and burns...
He also dedicated the poem "Gypsies" to her ...
Bryullov K.P. Portrait of Princess Z.A. Volkonskaya. Around 1842
Salon Volkonskaya in a mansion on Tverskaya for several years becomes the cultural heart of Moscow.
G. G. Myasoedov. In the salon of Zinaida Volkonskaya
The flower of Russian culture gathers in the Volkonskaya salon, Pushkin and Mickiewicz, Baratynsky and Venevitinov read their works here.
Venevitinov's ring
The life of Dmitry Vladimirovich Venevitinov was short and bright. He had a multifaceted talent - poetry and philosophy, music and painting were close and interesting to him. He was loved during his lifetime and A. S. Pushkin and M. Yu. Lermontov, A. A. Delvig and N. M. Yazykov, A. I. Odoevsky and A. V. Koltsov mourned about him, who died untimely.
Fate gave Venevitinov a meeting with Princess Zinaida Volkonskaya. Singer, musician, poetess, artist, she delighted everyone who knew her. A. S. Pushkin and E. A. Baratynsky, P. A. Vyazemsky and A. Mitskevich dedicated inspirational lines to the “queen of muses and beauty”. Her appearance was captured by Karl Bryullov. Rossini admired her voice. Goethe valued conversations with her.
Venevitinov was a frequent visitor to the salon of "Northern Corinna", as Volkonskaya was called by his contemporaries. Love for Volkonskaya gave Venevitinov unforgettable moments, inspired the poet to create poems that rightfully entered the treasury of Russian classical poetry: "Testament", "Dagger", "Italy", "To my ring", "Elegy", "To my goddess" .
In an effort to put an end to the poet's unrequited love, Venevitinov's relatives and friends contribute to his move from Moscow to St. Petersburg. “In the bitter hour of farewell,” Volkonskaya presented him as a talisman, designed to keep from sorrows and troubles, a bronze ring found during the excavations of Pompeii. The poet promised to wear it only on the day of the wedding or on the day of death.
Only four months he lived away from his beloved and friends D. V. Venevitinov. On March 15, 1827, his friend Fyodor Khomyakov had the bitter fate of putting the cherished ring on the finger of a dying man. Recovering, the poet asked: “Am I getting married?” "No," answered Khomyakov, barely holding back tears.
Everything was as Venevitinov wrote in the poem “To my ring”:
When will I be at the hour of death
Say goodbye to what I love here
I will not forget you in farewell:
Then I will ask a friend
So that he is cold from my hand
You, my ring, did not take off,
So that the coffin does not separate us.
The history of Venevitinov's ring did not end with his death. The poet seemed to foresee its continuation:
Ages will fly by, and perhaps
That someone will disturb my ashes
And it will open you up again...
A century after the death of Venevitinov, in 1930, his ashes were transferred to the Novodevichy cemetery. And the ring is now kept in the Literary Museum.
Leaving Moscow at the end of October, Venevitinov took with him a companion, at the request of the same Volkonskaya, the Frenchman Vauchet, who had just returned there, having seen off to Siberia a relative of Princess Zinaida, Countess E. I. Trubetskaya, who had followed her exiled Decembrist husband there. At the entrance to St. Petersburg, Venevitinov and Voshe were arrested due to the extreme suspicion of the police towards everyone who had even the slightest relation to the participants in the conspiracy of December 14th. The three-day arrest made a heavy moral impression on Venevitinov, from which he could not recover for a long time. Staying in a damp and untidy room had a detrimental effect on his already poor health.
He did not live long in Petersburg. Missing Moscow, where his beloved family, Princess Volkonskaya, and, finally, his comrades in the literary society and the magazine started together, remained, he began to dream of leaving as soon as possible to serve in Persia. Before leaving Moscow, the poet enthusiastically devoted himself to the study of the German philosophers Schelling, Fichte, the works of Plato, which he read in the original, and in St. Petersburg, Venevitinov apparently devoted more time to poetic creativity. This can be seen both from the number of his generally few poems falling on the Petersburg period of his life, and from the perfection of form and depth of content achieved in them.
But the poet did not have to carry out his intentions. In early March, returning lightly dressed from a ball at the Lanskys, he caught a bad cold and on March 15 he was gone.
On his grave monument in the Simonov Monastery, in Moscow, his own significant verse is carved: "How he knew life, how little he lived!" Almost a youth, the poet who died knew life not from experience, but because he was able to penetrate deeply into its inner meaning with his early ripened thought.
Dmitry Venevitinov, in addition to literary, had another talent - he knew how to make friends, knew how to be a true friend and united talented peers around him.
TO FRIENDS
May the seeker of proud glory
Sacrificing peace to her!
Let him fly into the bloody battle
For a crowd of heroes!
But haughty crowns
The singer of the forests is not deceived:
I'm happy without crowns
With a lyre, with true friends.
Let wealth torment passion
Hungry slaves!
Let them shower with gold
Let them from foreign countries
With loaded ships
Violent waves crush:
I'm rich without gold
With a lyre, with true friends.
Let the cheerful swarm noisy
It draws crowds!
Let them shine on their altar
Everyone will make a sacrifice!
I do not strive for their crowds -
I am without their noisy passions
Cheerful with his fate
With a lyre, with true friends. 1821
TO FRIENDS FOR THE NEW YEAR
Friends! the new year has arrived!
Forget old sorrows
And mourn the days, and the days of worries,
And everything that killed joy;
But don't forget the clear days
Fun, fun light-winged,
Golden hours, for dear hearts,
And old, sincere friends.
Live new in the new year
Leave old dreams
And everything that does not give happiness
And only one will give birth to desires!
Still in this new year
Love jokes, games, joy
And old, sincere friends.
Friends! Meet the New Year
In the circle of relatives, among freedom:
Let it flow for you, friends,
Like childhood happy years.
But in the middle of Petropol's undertakings
Do not forget the sounds of the lyre,
Sweet and peaceful pursuits,
And old, sincere friends
"Philosopher of life at twenty..."
The poetry of D. V. Venevitinov is one of the brightest, but, unfortunately, short pages of Russian literature. Having gone down in history as the creator of one of the directions in Russian romanticism - wisdom, Venevitinov was not ignored by critics.
In the characterization of Belinsky, the main direction of Venevitinov's searches is determined - "really-ideal", and not "dreamy-ideal", Belinsky has in mind the realistic tendencies of poetry.
Herzen noted that Venevitinov was full of "fantasies and ideas of 1825." Indeed, political motives close to Decembristism were reflected in his poems. Thus, excerpts from Venevitinov's unfinished historical poem (about the death of the Ryazan princes during the Tatar invasion) are characteristic of the same line of resurrection of historical images that was presented in Ryleev's "Dumas". The combat heroic theme is also developed by Venevitinov in his Scandinavian story "The Liberation of the Skald". In this story, an expressive image of the "poet" is given, who wields a heavy "sword" no worse than a harp. Like the Decembrists, Venevitinov responded to the events of the Greek uprising by singing the "sword of vengeance" in his "Song of the Greek":
Under the sky of rich Attica
A happy family blossomed.
Like my father, a simple orator,
Behind the plow I sang freedom.
But the Turks are evil militias
Our possessions poured ...
Mother died, father killed,
My young sister was saved with me,
I hid with her, repeating:
For everything, my sword will avenge you.
It is significant that Venevitinov's assessment of Byron is close to the Decembrist's. He writes an inspired prologue "The Death of Byron", and in a letter to Pushkin he speaks of Byron as a "prophet of freedom":
When the prophet of freedom is bold,
Anguished poet,
Left the orphaned world
Leaving glory a hot light
And the shadow of all-round sorrow,
Laudatory thunder sounded
Your poems follow him.
Like the Decembrists, freedom-loving pathos was dear to Venevitinov. Political notes are also heard in the prose passage "Europe", translated by Venevitinov from Geren, and especially clearly in his later poem "Novgorod". The theme of ancient Novgorod, as a center of freedom, was one of the main themes of the political lyrics of the Decembrists. In a freedom-loving spirit, Venevitinov also interprets this topic. His poem is covered with deep sadness about the irrevocable "free" times of the ancient city.
Creativity Venevitinov should be considered in the light of the requirements that he made to the poet, indicating his purpose and place in public life. Such philosophical passages by Venevitinov as "Anaxagoras (Plato's Conversation)" or "A Few Thoughts on the Plan of a Journal" are remarkable for their realistic tendencies. In the article “A Few Thoughts on the Plan of a Journal,” Venevitinov developed a view of art and literature as a tool for self-knowledge. “Self-knowledge is the only idea that can animate the universe; this is the goal and crown of man,” Venevitinov argued. "True poets of all peoples, of all ages, were deep thinkers, were philosophers and, so to speak, the crown of enlightenment"
True poetry, from the point of view of Venevitinov, should be a natural result of people's self-knowledge.
Subsequently, Chernyshevsky, who admired Venevitinov’s article, wrote about this article: “If Venevitinov had lived for at least ten years more, he would have moved our literature forward for decades.” ... ».
Venevitin's understanding of the nationality of art is successively connected with Pushkin's understanding of the nationality.
Venevitinov's first appearance in print was devoted to the first chapter of Eugene Onegin. Subsequently, Pushkin responded as follows: “This is the only article that I have read with love and attention. Everything else is either abuse or oversweetened game.
The best achievements in the field of lyrics belong to the Petersburg period, to the last months of Venevitinov's life. At this time, he wrote the second "Message to Rozhalin"
"Leave, my friend, your murmuring,"
"Sacrifice"
"To my ring"
"Testament", etc.
A week before his death, Venevitinov wrote to Pogodin: “Recently, self-doubt has weighed on me. ... It is necessary to do something good, high, but it is impossible to live and do nothing.
Venevitinov conceived a great novel, he dreamed of a trip to Persia for diplomatic service, but all plans were cut short by death.
The fate of the poet, filled with lofty passions and perishing in a tragic collision with a society alien to him, is the pivotal theme of Venevitinov's lyrics of the St. Petersburg period.
Most of Venevitinov's poems are sustained in tragic tones, but Venevitinov does not have a passive reconciliation with fate and fate. The poet is indignant and sad, but even the complete hopelessness that he sees for himself does not lead him to surrender to external forces. The poet is proud of his loneliness and does not seek consolation, knowing that he will not be able to reconcile with a society alien to him:
Do not believe that people dispersed
Hearts of sublime sorrow.
Avaricious friendship gives them
Empty caresses, not happiness;
Be proud that you are forgotten by them, -
Their indifferent dispassion
May you be praised.
Stone did not smile at dawn;
So the hearts of the heavenly flame
Crowd soulless and empty
It has always been a mystery!
Meet her with a damask soul
And don't be afraid of weak hands
No severe wounds, no severe pain.
("Message to Rozhalin").
A number of Venevitinov's poems reveal the theme of the poet's irreconcilable conflict with secular society. In the same Epistle to Rozhalin, the poet says:
When you see this world
Where the look and taste are disappointed,
Where the feeling freezes, the mind is chained,
And where is vanity - an idol,
When in the crowded desert
You did not find the soul of one, -
Believe me, you would forever, my friend,
Forgot your reckless murmur ...
In such poems by Venevitinov as "Testament", "Consolation" and others, along with the theme of love, the motives of death, which the poet predicts for himself, persistently sound. However, it is not love that leads to the thought of his death, but the inability to find happiness and joy in modern society. In this sense, the theme of immortality also acquires special significance:
The chest was torn to pieces before the deadline.
He said, "Someday
The fruit of this torment of mystery will ripen,
And the word is strong by chance
From your chest will break out:
You will not drop him for nothing;
It will set fire to someone else's chest,
Like a spark falls into her
And it will wake up in a fire.
("Comfort").
It is remarkable that the last lines find their correspondence in the words of the Decembrist A.I. Odoevsky from his answer to Pushkin - "a flame will ignite from a spark."
The news of Venevitinov's death reached the exiled Odoevsky, and he responded to it with the poem "The Dying Artist". Three years later, Koltsov dedicated a touching eight-verse to Venevitinov (“A Sigh on Venevitinov’s Grave”, 1830), the young Lermontov wrote an epitaph to the untimely deceased poet (“Simple-hearted Son of Freedom”, 1830), and a few years later (in 1840) the poet remembered Venevitinov -Petrashevite A.P. Balasoglo, who directly called Venevitinov a “freethinker”:
Where is Venevitinov, the gloomy one?
Philosopher of life at twenty
He, an orphan freethinker in the world,
Orphaned world and light.
“Venevitinov was not born capable of living in the new Russian atmosphere. Another temper was needed to endure the air of this gloomy era; one had to get used to this sharp and continuous cold wind from childhood; one had to adapt to insoluble doubts, to the bitterest truths, to one's own weakness, to the constant insults of every day; it was necessary from the most tender childhood to acquire the skill to hide everything that excites the soul, and not to lose what was buried in its bowels - on the contrary, it was necessary to let everything that fell on the heart ripen in silent anger, ”wrote Herzen.
Biographers usually associated Venevitinov's death with his personal drama (unrequited love for Princess Z. Volkonskaya); Herzen alone pointed to the social conditions of post-December Russia, which determined both the direction of Venevitinov's work and the premature death of the young poet.
"Poet" is for Venevitinov the subject of a kind of cult, expressed in his best poems, both in sincerity of tone and in charm of form: "Poet", "Sacrifice", "Consolation", "I feel that it burns in me ..." , "Poet and Friend" and "Last Poems". His rhymed translation of the famous monologue "Faust in the Cave" is distinguished by an extraordinary grace of verse and expressive, precise language; excellently translated also from Goethe: "Earthly Destiny" and "Apotheosis of the Artist".
The memory of the young poet is sacredly cherished in the village of Novozhivotinnoye. In the Ramonsky district, half an hour's drive from Voronezh, in the village of Novozhivotinnoye, spread along the banks of the Don, an old noble estate, the Venevitinovs' estate, has been preserved. The name of the village comes from a spring with "living" water. The estate consisted of a brick two-story house, an outbuilding, outbuildings, it was surrounded by a beautiful park, from where a wonderful view of the Don River opened. The estate now has a wonderful museum, presenting not only the history of the old family, the life and work of Dmitry Venevitinov, but also the noble estate culture of the 18th-19th centuries. The bright halls of the museum are rarely empty: their silence is broken not only by excursions, but also by literary or musical "evenings by the fireplace"; young couples who have decided to officially unite their destinies prefer to do it here, where everything is filled with beauty and harmony that have been tested for centuries!
He visited this village as a child, and came here as a young man - in 1824. This time he looks at everything with different, adult eyes and admits with a slight sadness: “... I found here only a shadow of the past. The gardens have turned into forests of apple, cherry and pear trees of all kinds, in a word, nature here is still beautiful, it alone met my expectations.
“... with admiration, I again saw the Don ... Whenever I cross the Don, I stop in the middle of the bridge to admire this wonderful river, which the eye would like to follow to the very mouth and which flows without any noise, as peaceful as happiness itself…”
Museum-estate of D. V. Venevitinov
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Manor Venevitinov |
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Entrance to the estate rice. A.V. Venevitinova, 1853 |
In the 1870s family estates in the Voronezh province were managed by the son of A. V. Venevitinov, Venevitinov Mikhail Alekseevich (1844–1901), a well-known historian, archaeographer, organizer of museum business.
After 1870, exemplary order was put in place on the estate. There was a major renovation of the house. The building was plastered, there was a new roof, new floors. On the ground floor, the storerooms were converted into living rooms. Part of the vaults were dismantled during the repair. Several rooms in the house were covered with wallpaper. All this is known from the descriptions of the interiors of the building.
Vladimir Alekseevich Venevitinov (1846–1885), the younger brother of M. A. Venevitinov, was a diplomat, since 1883 he was the master of ceremonies of the imperial court, but occasionally visited Novozhivotinnoye. He and his wife Emilia Ivanovna had seven children. In 1887, a governess was invited to the estate for their upbringing and education. She turned out to be Ethel Lilian Bull, later the famous English writer E. L. Voynich (1864-1960).
In 1965, an architectural and archaeological survey of the estate was carried out, thanks to which it was found out that the original dimensions of the building were somewhat smaller than today. It was brick and two stories high. There was also a third, mezzanine floor, or mezzanine. The ground floor was low, with vaulted ceilings that have survived to this day in several rooms and a corridor. The front second floor had high ceilings, while the mezzanine had low ceilings and small square windows. In addition to the main building, there were outbuildings on the estate. The entire estate was surrounded by a blank brick wall. Above the Don stood a brick stucco gazebo, from which, probably, there was a staircase - a descent to the river. Architecturally, the Venevitinovs' house was made in the forms of classicism.
The last owner of the estate before its nationalization in 1918 was the leader of the Nizhnedevitsky district, collegiate adviser to the chamber junker Yu. V. Venevitinov (1879–1954). He emigrated to France and lived in Paris.
The descendants of the Venevitinovs visited the family estate in the 1990s and maintain ties with the Museum-estate of D. Venevitinov.
In our century, the building has undergone many changes. In 1930, the house was adapted for a school, while the internal layout was partially changed. In 1937, a music school was located there. In 1939, the building was occupied by an orphanage in which children from Spain and Russian orphans lived. In the first months of the Great Patriotic War, a military unit was located on the estate.
From the beginning of the war until 1986, the Venevitinovsky house was gradually destroyed. The western gallery was lost, as well as the southern balcony, later restored.
Restoration work in the estate began in 1988, after the decision of the Voronezh Regional Executive Committee to transfer it to the House-Museum of I. S. Nikitin for the organization of the Museum-Estate of D. Venevitinov. The author of the restoration project is the architect T. N. Sinegub.
In 1994, after the restoration of the Venevitinovs' estate in Novozhivotinnoye and the improvement of the parterre zone, a branch of the Voronezh Regional Literary Museum was opened - the Museum-estate of D. V. Venevitinov. In its exposition - the decoration of the halls of the noble estate of the XIX century. and everything related to the Venevitinov family.
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Museum interior. Museum-estate of D. V. Venevitinov
On the ground floor of the house there is a book and souvenir shop, next to it is an exhibition hall. There are seven rooms on the second floor.
The first of them is a fireplace room, in addition to exposition purposes, the hall is intended for literary, musical and other evenings or celebrations. The interior design, decoration of the hall is made in the spirit of the time when D. Venevitinov was here.
The second hall - the main dining room, executed in stylistic unity with the first hall, performs an interesting meaningful task, presenting the visitor with a typological noble estate in central Russia.
The next three halls are dedicated to the life and work of Dmitry Venevitinov. The exposition of the third hall is called "Venevitinov and the Voronezh Territory", demonstrating documents related to the ancestors of D. Venevitinov, D. Venevitinov's letters to Moscow, written by him in Novozhivotinnoye in August-September 1824, D. Venevitinov's drawings made in Novozhivotinnoye. In the same exposition there is a poem by D. Venevitinov "Favorite Color", dedicated to his sister and inspired by impressions of Novozhivotinny.
The fourth hall can be conditionally called "Venevitinov and Moscow". Among its exhibits are a bill of sale for a house in Krivokolenny Lane, young D. Venevitinov's translations from Greek and Latin, his first poems, a letter from the poet about the work of the Moskovsky Vestnik magazine.
The fifth hall is dedicated to the Petersburg period of the poet's life. The exposition contains materials about the Collegium of Foreign Affairs, where the poet served, letters from D. Venevitinov about meetings with V. Odoevsky, A. Delvig, with the parents of A. S. Pushkin, and sad documents with a message in the Moscow Bulletin about the death of the poet with his poem "The Poet and Friend", the last letters of the poet, a photograph of his grave.
The sixth hall of the museum presents the diorama "People's Holiday". As conceived by the authors of the exposition, this hall should tell about the interaction of nature and culture, past and present in the formation of various aspects of the environment.
The last, seventh, hall of the second floor is called "Library". There is an exposition dedicated to the life and work of M. A. Venevitinov, the poet's nephew.
The museum has a corner dedicated to E. L. Voynich, where the piano on which she played has been preserved, photographs and works of the writer are exhibited.
In 2005, in honor of the 200th anniversary of the birth of Dmitry Venevitinov, a monument to the poet was unveiled on the estate. The bronze monument is made in the best traditions of Russian monumental art. The figure of the seated poet is set on a granite pedestal with the inscription: "Dmitry Venevitinov". A cloak is thrown over the back of a chair. At Venevitinov's feet is a top hat and a cane. The young face of the poet seems to be illuminated by inspiration itself. The author of the monument is the Voronezh sculptor M. I. Dikunov.
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At the opening of the monument. To the 200th anniversary of D. A. Venevitinov, 2005
Since 1997, the Club of Poetry Lovers "Wednesdays at Venevitinov" has been operating in the Museum-Estate. Poets, musicians, actors, local historians perform at club meetings.
On September 30, 2009, the first Venevitinov readings were held in the Fireplace Hall of the Venevitinov House, dedicated to the 204th anniversary of the birth of the poet D.V. Venevitinov and the 15th anniversary of the museum-estate of D.V. Venevitinov.
The 1st Venevitinov readings were held by D. Venevitinov's Estate Museum, the Voronezh branch of the Writers' Union of Russia and the Club of Poetry Lovers "Wednesdays at Venevitinov's". Writers V. V. Budakov and E. G. Novichikhin, professors V. V. Varava (VSU) and E. P. Belozertsev (VSPU), researchers of the Museum-estate of D. V. Venevitinov, local historians, as well as director of the historical and art museum of A. S. Khomyakova from the estate of Bogucharovo, Tula region. The Venevitinov readings marked the beginning of friendship and cooperation between two related estates, connected by the close friendship of two brilliant contemporaries - D.V. Venevitinov and A.S. Khomyakov.
The estate is a monument of history and architecture of federal significance.
VENEVITINOVSKAYA ESTATE
Don approaches without fear
Novozhivotinnoe-village.
Tell a story about him, maybe?
Only fairy tales were covered with snow,
Snow covered Don mounds,
And the fields and groves were covered with snow.
And - like summer - mists are falling
To a large Russian village.
And the village becomes invisible
Until the sun takes off.
And only the manor house, old
It comes through - like an ark floats.
Don, flowing without noise and peacefully, like happiness, -
So the poet Venevitinov wrote in letters to his sister.
A LIFE
First, life captivates us:
Everything is warm in it, all the heart warms
And, like a tempting story,
Our bizarre mind cherishes.
Something frightens from afar, -
But there is pleasure in this fear:
He amuses the imagination
How about a magical adventure
An old man's night story.
But the playful deceit will end!
We get used to miracles.
Then - we look at everything lazily,
Then - and life disgusted us:
Her mystery and denouement
Already long, old, boring,
Like a fairy tale retold
Tired before sleep
"Keep me, my talisman..."
(A.S. Pushkin)
"Keep me from grievous wounds..."
(D.V. Venevitinov)
PUSHKINS AND NORTHERN PROVINCES
And what about the northern provinces?
To answer this question, you need to look into the genealogy of Pushkin and Venevitinov, the northern branches of their family trees:
- 1613, Dvina governor Nikita Mikhailovich Pushkin, nephew of Semyon Mikhailovich - the direct ancestor of the poet;
- 1633 - 1634, governor in Kargopol Fedor Timofeevich Pushkin;
- 1647, governor in Veliky Ustyug Stepan Gavrilovich Pushkin;
- 1652 - 1656, Dvina governor Boris Ivanovich Pushkin, nephew of Nikita Mikhailovich Pushkin;
- 1740 - 1743, Arkhangelsk Governor Alexei Andreevich Obolensky (was married to Anna Vasilievna Priklonskaya - the sister of the grandmother of Sergei Lvovich Pushkin); The great-grandson of A.A. Obolensky was Dmitry Vladimirovich Venevetinov, who was also the fourth cousin of A.S. Pushkin. The acquaintance of the poets began in childhood and was continued in Moscow in 1826 upon Pushkin's return from exile.
- 1743 - 1745, the Governor of Arkhangelsk, Acting Chamberlain Alexei Mikhailovich Pushkin;
- In 1826, Pavel Isaakovich Gannibal, the cousin of Pushkin the poet, found himself in exile in Solvychegodsk. According to the dirty denunciations of the mayor Sokolov to the Vologda Governor-General Minitsky, in order to increase the punishment in 1827, the Solovetsky Monastery was assigned to lieutenant colonel Hannibal, where he stayed until the autumn of 1832.
In search of the poet's genealogy in the northern land, much has been done by local historians-Pushkinists: researcher at the State Archives of the Arkhangelsk Region Nikolai Alekseevich Shumilov and Arkhangelsk writer Igor Vladimirovich Strezhnev.
VENEVITINOV
Venevitinov Dmitry Vladimirovich (14 (26) September 1805, Moscow, - 15 (27) March 1827, Petersburg, buried in Moscow), Russian poet, critic. This young man was extraordinary in every way. One of his appearance already amazed contemporaries. This is how Venevitinov appeared to the woman's eyes: "He was a handsome man in the full sense of the word. Tall, like a statue of marble. His face, besides beauty, had some kind of inexplicable charm. Huge blue eyes, trimmed with very long eyelashes, shone with intelligence. " And here is the view of the writer: “Venevitinov was a poet in life too: his happy appearance, his quiet and important thoughtfulness, his slender movements, inspired speech, secular, unfeigned courtesy, so familiar to everyone who saw him close, vouched that he shapes his life as a work of grace."
LUBOMUDRY
By 1823, a circle of lovers of wisdom was formed in Moscow - philosophies, which, in addition to Venevitinov, included prose writer V. F. Odoevsky, critic I. V. Kireevsky, writers N. M. Rozhalin and A. I. Koshelev; the prose writer and historian M.P. Pogodin, the poet and philologist S.P. Shevyrev adjoined the circle. These then young writers challenged the philosophical tastes of the era. They turned their mental gaze to the works of the thinkers of "Germany foggy" - Schelling, Fichte, and partly Kant. Formally, the circle broke up in 1825, but spiritual unity continued to be maintained for some time.
September 1826. A.S. Pushkin returns from exile to Moscow and finds himself surrounded by fellow writers - Baratynsky, Vyazemsky, Mickiewicz, Pogodin. Among them, he notices, and then highlights the young poet Dmitry Venevitinov. The young man was smart, handsome and, as literary critics would later define, "a deep and original thinker." N. G. Chernyshevsky wrote about him: “If Venevitinov had lived for at least ten years more, he would have moved our literature forward for decades ...” (Poln. sobr. soch., vol. 2, 1949, p. 926). For a short time, Pushkin became close to the philosophers. He created the poem "In the mundane, sad and boundless steppe", clearly echoing his reflections on the three epochs of human life with Venevitin's "Three Roses" (1826), "Three Destinies" (1826 or 1827). Pushkin even became the initiator of the publication of the journal of wisdom "Moskovsky Vestnik" (Venevitinov is the author of his program). But the "poet of reality" was alien to some speculativeness, characteristic of Venevitinov.
In our time, evaluating the work of Venevitinov, more and more conclusions are being drawn that it is possible that the transition in Russian poetry “from the beauty of form to the sublimity of content” began with him. Many of the themes identified by Dmitry Venevitinov were subsequently successfully revealed in their work by Lermontov and Tyutchev.
VENEVITINOV AND RING - TALISMAN
Without going into the intricacies of Venevitinov's work, we will try to tell the story associated with the ring. The fact is that Dmitry Venevitinov wore a ring in the form of a keychain. It was an ancient ring, unearthed by archaeologists in the ruins of the ancient Roman city of Herculaneum. And he came to Dmitry as a gift from Zinaida Volkonskaya, with whom he was in love. Dmitry Venevitinov dedicates the poem “To my ring” to the ring, where he calls it “a pledge of compassion”, a keeper from “thirst for fame” and “spiritual emptiness”. He asks not to remove the ring even at the "hour of death", "so that the coffin does not separate us." At the end of the poem, he prophetically writes:
And it will open you up again...
Fate allowed him to live a little - 22 years. In October 1826, he moved to St. Petersburg and, under the patronage of Zinaida Volkonskaya, entered the Asian Department of the College of Foreign Affairs. In the winter of 1827 he caught a cold; the disease could not be stopped, and soon the doctor warned the friends who had gathered in the patient’s apartment that Venevitinov had only a few hours left to live.
It fell to AS Khomyakov to tell him the terrible news. Khomyakov approached the dying man and put on his finger a ring given by Volkonskaya, which the poet swore to wear either on his wedding day or on the day of his death ... The poet was buried with him in the Moscow Simonovsky Monastery.
In 1930, an autopsy of Venevitinov's grave was made, the ring was found and transferred to the Literary Museum. Now the ring is stored in the Bakhrushinsky Museum in Moscow.
HISTORY REFERENCE
ON THE FATE OF ZINAIDA VOLKONSKAYA
Princess Zinaida Alexandrovna Volkonskaya was born in 1792 in Turin from the marriage of Prince Alexei Mikhailovich Beloselsky with Varvara Yakovlevna Tatishcheva.
After marrying Prince Nikita Grigoryevich Volkonsky (died in 1844), she first lived in St. Petersburg and held a high position at court. After 1812 - abroad: in Teplice, Prague, Paris, Vienna, Verona. Returning to Russia, to St. Petersburg, she took up the study of antiquity, but in response she received displeasure and ridicule, and at the end of 1824 she moved to Moscow. Here she took up the study of her native language and literature, domestic antiquities: she was interested in songs, customs, folk legends. In 1825, she even fussed about the foundation of a Russian society for the organization of a national museum and for the publication of ancient monuments.
Her constant interlocutors were Zhukovsky, Pushkin, Prince Vyazemsky, Baratynsky, Venevitinov, Shevyrev and others. Pushkin dedicated "Gypsy" to her and in his famous message on this occasion called her "the queen of muses and beauty."
In 1829 Princess Volkonskaya moved from Moscow to Rome. A poet and composer, she herself wrote cantatas and composed music for them. Known for her "Cantata in memory of Emperor Alexander I". In Rome, she lived as a hermit, but did not forget about Russia - in 1837 she wrote the poem "Neva Water". The collected works of Princess Volkonskaya were published by her son, Prince Alexander Nikitich Volkonsky: "The Works of Princess Zinaida Alexandrovna Volkonskaya."
The princess died in 1862 in Rome.
PUSHKIN AND RING - TALISMAN
A.S. Pushkin, having learned about the death of Venevitinov, said with bitterness and regret: “Why did you let him die?”. But Pushkin already had a short life span - only 10 years. And he also had his own story with the ring ...
In 1899, Russia celebrated the 100th anniversary of the birth of Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin. In May, the Pushkin exhibition was opened. Among the various exhibits was a gold ring. It was about him that I.S. Turgenev wrote: “The ring<…>presented to Pushkin in Odessa by Princess Vorontsova. He wore this ring almost constantly.
Who is this Princess Vorontsova? After Bessarabia and the Caucasus, Pushkin was sent to Odessa, where in 1823-1824 he served in the office of the Novorossiysk Governor-General Count Mikhail Semenovich Vorontsov, and met his wife Elizaveta Ksaveryevna. The poet was deeply fascinated by Countess Vorontsova and dedicated a number of poems to her. She answered him with no less ardent passion, presented him with a talisman ring. Elizaveta Ksaveryevna was thirty-one years old at that time, Alexander Sergeevich was twenty-four. More than 30 drawings with her image have been preserved in Pushkin's manuscripts.
One of their contemporaries describes the character and appearance of E.K. Vorontsova: “She was already over thirty years old, and she had every right to seem young ... With innate frivolity and coquetry, she wanted to please, and no one was better than her in that. She was young in soul, young and in appearance. there was what is called beauty; but the quick, gentle look of her pretty little eyes pierced right through; the smile of her lips, which I have not seen the like, seemed to call for a kiss. " A. S. Pushkin dedicated poems to her: "The Burnt Letter" , "Angel", "For the last time your image is cute..." Vorontsova became one of Tatyana's prototypes in his novel "Eugene Onegin".
But Pushkin's friend A.A. Raevsky was also in love with Elizaveta Vorontsova, who, out of jealousy, told Vorontsova's husband about her connection with Pushkin. According to Alexander Sergeevich, this was the reason for his expulsion from Odessa to the village of Mikhailovskoye. Pushkin was annoyed by this turn of events, wrote the poem "Insidiousness", in which he condemns the act of A.A. Raevsky, composes an epigram on the governor M.S. Vorontsov. Remember: "Half-my lord, half-merchant ...", alluding to the English upbringing of the governor and his dishonest commercial operations in the port of Odessa.
Having left against his will, Pushkin corresponded for some time with Elizaveta Vorontsova. Impressed by love that has not yet cooled down, but is already being lost, Pushkin writes several lyrical poems: “Let beauty crowned with love ...”, A burnt letter, A desire for glory, Everything is a sacrifice to your memory. In the poem “Keep me, my talisman,” Alexander Sergeevich writes: “Keep me in the days of persecution, In the days of repentance, excitement: You were given to me in the days of sadness.”
“The poet’s sister, O.S. Pavlishcheva, told us,” P.V. Annenkov wrote, “that when a letter arrived from Odessa with a seal decorated with exactly the same cabalistic signs that were on her brother’s ring, the latter locked himself in his room, did not go anywhere and did not take anyone to him.
But he did not save, did not save his talisman. Before his death, Pushkin presented this ring to the poet Zhukovsky. From Zhukovsky, by inheritance, he gets to his son Pavel Vasilievich, who gives it to I.S. Turgenev. After the death of Turgenev, the famous singer at that time, his close friend, Polina Viardot returned this priceless relic to Russia.
HISTORY REFERENCE
ON THE FATE OF ELIZABETH VORONTSOVA
Vorontsova Elizaveta Ksaveryevna (1792 - 1880), nee Branitskaya, wife of the count, later prince (1844) M.S. Vorontsov, lady of state (1838). She was the youngest daughter of a Polish magnate and the niece of Catherine's favorite Grigory Potemkin, she was born in the family estate of Belaya Tserkov. Lisa spent her childhood and youth in the countryside and ended up abroad, in Paris, only in 1819.
Here she met Count M.S. Vorontsov, whom she married in the same year. The young remained in Europe for another four years.
In 1823, in connection with the appointment of Vorontsov as Governor-General of Novorossiysk, they returned to Russia. In October, her son was born.
Vorontsov forgave his wife for the impermissible flirtation with Pushkin, took Elizaveta Ksaveryevna to Alupka, where the couple set up the estate and palace together, which is still called Vorontsov's.
When the emperor sent the 63-year-old Vorontsov as governor to the Caucasus, at first she cried for a long time, and then she got ready and went to fetch her husband in troubled Tiflis. Further, Elizaveta Ksaveryevna followed her husband wherever his service threw him. Mikhail Semenovich died in 1882 and was buried in the Odessa Cathedral. After the death of her husband, Elizaveta Ksaveryevna remained in Odessa, next to his grave.
She died at the age of 90.
Material prepared by V. Plotnikov
POEMS
A.S. PUSHKIN AND D.V. VENEVITINOV
A.S. PUSHKIN
KEEP ME, MY TALISMAN...
Keep me, my talisman,
Keep me in the days of persecution,
In the days of repentance, excitement:
You were given to me on a day of sorrow.
When the ocean rises
The waves are roaring around me,
When the clouds break like a storm -
Keep me, my talisman.
In the solitude of foreign countries,
In the bosom of boring peace,
In the anxiety of fiery battle
Keep me, my talisman.
Holy sweet deceit
The soul is a magical luminary...
It hid, changed...
Keep me, my talisman.
Let it be in the age of heart wounds
Doesn't ruin the memory.
Farewell hope; sleep, desire;
Keep me, my talisman.
D.V.VENEVITINOV
TO MY RING
You were dug in a dusty grave,
Herald of love for centuries
And again you are grave dust
You will be bequeathed, my ring.
But not love now by you
Blessed eternal flame
And over you, in anguish of the heart,
I made a holy vow...
Not! friendship in the bitter hour of farewell
Gave sobbing love
You as a pledge of compassion.
Oh, be my faithful talisman!
Keep me from grievous wounds
And light, and an insignificant crowd,
From the caustic thirst for false glory,
From a seductive dream
And from spiritual emptiness.
In the hours of cold doubt
Revive your heart with hope
And if in the sorrows of imprisonment,
Far from the angel of love
It will plot a crime, -
You with wondrous power tame
Outbursts of hopeless passion
And from my rebellious chest
Turn away the lead of madness.
When will I be at the hour of death
Say goodbye to what I love here
I will not forget you in farewell:
Then I will ask a friend
So that he is from my cold hand
You, my ring, did not take off,
So that the coffin does not separate us.
And the request will not be fruitless:
He will confirm his vow to me
With the words of the fatal oath.
Ages will fly by, and perhaps
That someone will disturb my ashes
And in it you will open again;
And again timid love
You will whisper superstitiously
Words of tormenting passions,
And again you will be her friend,
As it was for me, my ring is true.
1826 or 1827
A.S. PUSHKIN
BURNED LETTER
Goodbye love letter! goodbye: she said...
How long have I lingered! how long did not want
The hand to set fire to all my joys! ..
But enough, the time has come. Burn, love letter.
I'm ready; my soul does not listen to anything.
Already the greedy flame accepts your sheets ...
Just a minute!.. flared up! blazing - light smoke,
Waving, lost with my prayer.
Having lost the impression of the faithful ring,
The melted sealing wax boils... O providence!
It's done! Dark curled sheets;
On light ashes their cherished features
They turn white ... My chest was shy. Ash dear,
A poor joy in my sad fate,
Stay a century with me on a woeful chest ...
D.V.VENEVITINOV
THREE ROSES
In the deaf steppe of the earth's road,
Emblem of heavenly beauty,
Three roses were thrown to us by the gods,
Eden's best flowers.
Alone under a cashmere sky
Blooms near a bright stream;
She's a marshmallow lover
And the inspiration of the nightingale.
Neither day nor night does she wither,
And if someone breaks it,
As soon as the morning ray peeps through,
A fresh rose will bloom.
Even prettier is the other one:
She, a ruddy dawn
Blooming in the early sky
Captivates with bright beauty.
Fresh from this rose blows
And it's more fun to meet her:
For a moment she glows,
But every day it blooms again.
Still fresh from the third blows,
Although she is not in heaven;
She cherishes for hot lips
Love on virgin cheeks.
But this rose will soon wither:
She is shy and gentle
And in vain the morning ray will glimpse -
It won't bloom again.
THREE FATES
Three fates in the world are enviable, friends.
Lucky, who controls fate for centuries,
In the soul of an unsolved thought melting.
He sows for the harvest, but does not reap the harvest:
The peoples of recognition did not praise him,
The peoples of the curse do not reproach him.
For centuries he bequeaths a deep plan;
After the death of the immortal, things ripen.
More enviable than a poet's destiny on earth.
From infancy, he became friends with nature,
And the heart of the stone saved from the cold,
And the rebellious mind is brought up by freedom,
And a ray of inspiration lit up in the eyes.
He clothes the whole world in harmonious sounds;
Is the heart embarrassed by the excitement of flour -
He will cry out grief in burning verses.
But believe, O others! a hundred times happier
A carefree pet of fun and laziness.
Deep thoughts do not trouble the soul,
He does not know tears and fire of inspiration,
And the day for him, like another, flew by,
And he will meet the future again carelessly,
And the heart will wither without heartache -
Oh rock! why didn't you give me this lot?
A.S. PUSHKIN
* * *
In the worldly steppe, sad and boundless,
Mysteriously broke through three keys:
The key of youth, the key is swift and rebellious,
Boils, runs, sparkling and murmuring.
Castal key with a wave of inspiration
In the steppe of the worldly exiles waters.
The last key is the cold key of oblivion,
It will quench the heat of the heart the sweetest of all.
DESIRE FOR FAME
When, intoxicated with love and bliss,
Silently kneeling before you,
I looked at you and thought: you are mine, -
Do you know, dear, if I wanted fame;
You know: removed from the windy light,
Missing the vain nickname of the poet,
Tired of long storms, I did not pay attention at all
Buzzing distant reproaches and praises.
Could rumors bother me with sentences,
When, bowing to me languid eyes
And quietly laying a hand on my head,
You whispered: tell me, do you love, are you happy?
Another, like me, tell me, will you not love?
Will you never, my friend, forget me?
And I kept an embarrassed silence,
I was full of pleasure, I imagined
That there is no future, that terrible day of parting
Will never come... So what? Tears, pain,
Treason, slander, all on my head
It suddenly collapsed... What am I, where am I? I'm standing
Like a traveler struck by lightning in the desert,
And everything was eclipsed in front of me! And now
I languish with a new desire for me:
I wish glory, so that by my name
Your hearing was struck all the time, so that you
Surrounded by a loud rumor
Everything, everything around you sounded about me,
So that, listening to the faithful voice in silence,
Did you remember my last prayers
In the garden, in the darkness of the night, in the moment of separation.
D.V.VENEVITINOV
Leave me, forget me!
I loved you alone in the world,
But I loved you like a friend
How they love an asterisk on the air,
How they love the bright ideal
Or a clear dream of the imagination.
I learned a lot in life
In one love did not know torment,
And I want to go to the grave
Like an enchanted ignoramus.
Leave me, forget me!
Look - that's where my hope is;
Look - but why are you startled?
No, don't tremble: death is not terrible;
Oh, don't whisper to me about hell:
Believe me, hell in the world, beautiful friend!
Where there is no life, there is no pain.
Give me a kiss as a pledge of goodbye...
Why do your kisses tremble?
Why are your eyes burning in tears?
Leave me, love another!
Forget me, I'll be on my own soon
I will forget the sorrow of earthly life.
1826
A.S. PUSHKIN
The Lemnos god bound you
For the hands of the immortal Nemesis,
Freedom's secret guardian, punishing dagger,
The last judge of Shame and Resentment.
Where Zeus's thunder is silent, where the sword of the Law slumbers,
You are the maker of curses and hopes,
You are hiding under the shadow of the throne,
Under the glitter of holiday clothes.
Like an infernal ray, like lightning of the gods,
The silent blade shines in the eyes of the villain,
And, looking around, he trembles,
Among their peers.
Everywhere it will be found by your unexpected blow:
On land, on the seas, in the temple, under the tents,
Behind hidden castles
On the bed of sleep, in the native family.
The cherished Rubicon rustles under Caesar,
Sovereign Rome fell, the law drooped head;
But Brutus rebelled freedom-loving:
You slew Caesar - and, dead, he embraces
Pompeii marble proud.
The fiend of rebellion raises an evil cry:
Contemptible, dark and bloody,
Over the corpse of Liberty headless
An ugly executioner arose.
Apostle of death, tired Hades
With a finger he appointed victims,
But the Supreme Court sent him
You and the virgin Eumenides.
O young righteous, fatal chosen one,
O Zand, your age has died out on the chopping block;
But the virtues of the saint
There was a voice in the executed ashes.
In your Germany you have become an eternal shadow,
Threatening misfortune criminal force -
And on the solemn grave
The dagger burns without an inscription.
D.V.VENEVITINOV
Enchantress! How sweetly you sang
About the wondrous land of charm,
About the hot homeland of beauty!
How I loved your memories
How eagerly I listened to your words
And how he dreamed of the land of the unknown!
You got drunk on this wonderful air,
And your speech so passionately breathes it!
You looked at the color of heaven for a long time
And she brought us the color of heaven in our eyes.
Your soul flared up so clearly
And a new fire in my chest lit.
But this fire is languid, rebellious,
He does not burn with quiet, tender love, -
Not! he burns, and torments, and mortifies,
Agitated by changing desire,
It suddenly subsides, then boils violently,
And the heart will awaken again with suffering.
Why, why did you sing so sweetly?
Why did I listen to you so eagerly
And from your lips, singer of beauty,
Did you drink the poison of dreams and joyless passion?
Do you know the son of the gods
A favorite of muses and inspiration?
Would I know between the earthly sons
Are you his speech, his movements? -
He is not quick-tempered, and a strict mind
Does not shine in noisy conversation,
But a clear beam of high thoughts
Involuntarily shines in a clear look.
Let around him, in a child of comfort,
Windy youth rebels, -
Crazy cry, cold laughter
And unbridled joy:
Everything is alien, wild for him,
He looks at everything silently.
Only something rare from his mouth
Breaks a fleeting smile.
His goddess is simplicity,
And the quiet genius of thought
He was given from birth
The seal of silence on the lips.
His dreams, his desires
His fears, expectations -
All the mystery is in it, everything in it is silent:
Carefully keeps in the soul
He has unresolved feelings.
When suddenly something
Excites the fiery chest, -
Soul, without fear, without art,
Ready to pour out in speeches
And shines in fiery eyes.
And again he is quiet and bashful
He lowers his gaze to the ground
As if he heard a reproach
For irrevocable impulses.
Oh if you meet him
With reflection on a stern forehead, -
Walk without noise near him,
Don't break with a cold word
His sacred, silent dreams!
Look with tears of awe
And say: this is the son of the gods,
Pet of muses and inspiration!
A.S. PUSHKIN
Poet! Do not value the love of the people.
Enthusiastic praise will pass a moment's noise;
Hear the judgment of a fool and the laughter of the cold crowd,
But you remain firm, calm and gloomy.
You are the king: live alone. By the road of the free
Go where your free mind takes you,
Improving the fruits of your favorite thoughts,
Not demanding rewards for a noble feat.
They are in you. You are your own highest court;
You know how to appreciate your work more strictly.
Are you satisfied with it, demanding artist?
Satisfied? So let the crowd scold him
And spits on the altar where your fire burns
And in childish playfulness your tripod shakes.
Literature:
1. Venevitinov D.V., Complete Works, edited and with notes by B.V. Smirensky. Introductory article by D. D. Blagogoy, [M. - L.], 1934;
2. D. V. Venevitinov, Poln. coll. poems. Intro. Art., preparation of the text and notes. B. V. Neiman, L., 1960.
3. Venevetinov D.V., Poems / Compiled, entry. article and note. V.I. Sakharov. – M.: Sov. Russia, 1982. - 176 p., 1 sheet. Portrait - (Poetic Russia);
4. Mordovchenko N. I., Russian criticism of the first quarter of the 19th century, M. - L., 1959;
5. Pushkin A.S., Collected works in 10 volumes. T.1. Poems 1813 - 1824. M., “Khudozh. Lit., 1974.
6. Pushkin A.S., Collected works in 10 volumes. T.2. Poems 1825 - 1836. M., “Khudozh. Lit., 1974.
7. Pushkin A.S., Collected works in 10 volumes. T.9. Letters 1815 - 1830. M., “Khudozh. Lit., 1977.
8. Russian poets. Anthology of Russian poetry in 6 volumes. Moscow: Children's Literature, 1996.
9. P. N. Sakulin, From the history of Russian idealism, vol. 1, Moscow, 1913;
10. Strezhnev N.V. "To the icy northern waves": A.S. Pushkin and the White Sea North: Lit. - local history essays. - Arkhangelsk: North-West. Book. Publishing house, 1989.
11. Chernyshevsky N.G. Full coll. cit., vol. 2, 1949
This is one of those poets who lit their candles from Pushkin's fire, but also turned pale in its dazzling radiance. In addition, Venevitinov's very life flashed by so quickly, so tragically quickly, that he did not have time to finish singing his songs, and those rich possibilities of mind and talent that lurked in his chosen soul could not unfold into a vivid poetic work. Before us is an excerpt, several poems, several articles, and from these hints we must now restore the beautiful appearance of the young singer.
He had a ring found in a "dusty grave", and the mystical Venevitinov always carried it with him as a talisman, and his friends put on the same ring in the moments of his death agony - this is how they married him to death. But even more than a ring, the young man was guarded by another, spiritual talisman: his worship of beauty. With it, he protected himself from every breath of vulgarity ("it's good to die young" ...) and the bright one left the world, with his untimely death plunging many into sincere sadness, into some kind of woeful bewilderment. "My soul is torn," Prince Odoevsky wrote, "I am crying like a child." Pushkin blamed his friends: "How did you let him die?" The old man Dmitriev wrote an epitaph for him with a "trembling hand", where he is mournfully surprised at his old age, burying his youth. Koltsov left his poetic sigh on his grave. For with Venevitinov, a deep inner world died, "a soul rich in itself", dressed in itself - the crystal nobility of thoughts and aspirations.
He foresaw his early death. Internally doomed to death, her young fiancé, married to her with a talisman ring, he put sad prophetic words into his poet's mouth:
My soul told me a long time ago:
You will rush through the world like lightning!
You can feel everything
But you won't enjoy life.
The poet comforts in this not himself, but a condoling friend; he himself agrees that fate has different gifts for different people, and if one is destined to "prosper with developed strength and death to erase the trace of life," then the other will die early, but "will live behind a gloomy grave."
Venevitinov, that Lensky of our poetry, "wandered the world with a lyre"; but he not only loved the talisman of beauty - he understood it. An artist, he was also a philosopher. Our ancient wisdom counts him among its adherents. He would like to lift the veil "from the forehead of the mysterious nature" and plunge into the "ocean of beauty." His young thought, brought up on Schelling, gravitated higher and higher, and now, a reverent friend and listener of Pushkin, he remarks to him, the “accessible genius”, that he still underpaid his debt to the Kamens, that Pushkin had not yet bowed to Goethe: after Byron and Chenier is waiting for our Russian Proteus, also a great German.
Our mentor, your mentor,
He lies in the land of dreams,
In my native Germany.
Hands so cold
Sometimes they run along the strings,
And intermittent sounds
Like after a sad separation
Dear old friendship voice,
We are led to familiar thoughts.
So far, his heart has not cooled down,
And believe me, he is alive with joy
In the shelter of dull old age
Still hear your voice
And maybe captivated by you
Inspired by the last heat,
The swan will sing in response
And, to the sky with a song of divination
Stirrup solemn flight,
In the delight of a wondrous dream
You, O Pushkin, will be called.
As you know, there is a hypothesis that it was to this poem that Pushkin responded with his "Scene from Faust" and that Goethe really named Pushkin - dedicated a quatrain to him. But whether this is true or not, it is in any case significant that Venevitinov called to Goethe, the poet of wisdom, the poet of depth, that the young man pointed to the world old man.
In the pantheon of mankind, this young man has other favorite heroes, among people he has gods, and it is characteristic that he identifies them with his personal, real friends. He calls Shakespeare a true friend and looks at each writer as if he were his interlocutor. If, in general, the writer and the reader are correlative, then in relation to Venevitinov this is especially true, since he considers any living book to be written specifically for himself. At the same time, books do not suppress his spirit; having absorbed so much experience from Shakespeare, he did not lose his immediate liveliness.
In his rich fantasy
I have lived to the fullest
And early experience did not buy
Raptures of early loss.
Not having time to lose enthusiasm, he walked his short journey with them. Pure effervescence, holy anxiety of the spirit is heard on its pages, and its "thoughtful eyelids" hid a fiery and passionate gaze. Sincere curiosity about life, a hymn to its flowers - and at the same time, the work of philosophical consciousness: this combination of "reason with a fiery soul" is most essential for the young poet, "mind and heart agreed in him," and he theoretically recognized such agreement as a condition for creativity. . He already knows everything, but he still feels it vividly. He understood everything, but did not lose interest in anything. In his own words, he "combined the souls of hot dreams with a cold life," and this is precisely his attraction, his charms. As a philosopher, as a thinker, he cannot fail to pay tribute to pessimism; but will not the coldness of life recede before a warm soul?
The hot soul of Venevitinov often speaks in his poems about heat, fire, flame, Italy, "the hot homeland of beauty". She devotes herself to something better than life, to the beautiful, and that's why she burns. Life can deceive, "insidious Siren", and the poet will not bow to her:
To you my stingy hands
They will not bring obedient tribute,
And I'm not doomed to you.
He has wonderful ideas and words about this life. First, she has a windy one. wings are lighter than those of a swallow, and therefore it trustingly takes wings of frisky joy to itself and flies, flies, admiring the beautiful burden. But, the philosopher, Venevitinov knows that joy has its own heaviness. And life shakes frisky joy from its weary wings and replaces it with sadness, which does not seem so heavy to it. But even under the burden of this new friend, the light wings are more and more inclined.
And soon falls
They have a new guest
And life is tired
Alone, no burden
Fly freer;
Only in the wings
Barely noticeable
From burdens thrown
Traces remain
And imprinted
On light feathers
Two colors are pale:
A little light
From frisky joy
A little dark
From a gloomy guest.
Life, in the end, flies, slowly flies - alone, tired, indifferent, without joy, without sorrow: but is it life then? And again, then, is it not good that Venevitinov died, that he did not live to see death, moral death?
We get used to miracles.
Then we look at everything lazily;
And then life took its toll on us.
Her mystery and plot
Already long, old, boring,
Like a fairy tale retold
Tired before one o'clock.
Fairy tales that are not retold are good.
Our young singer could be at a loss before life, before its complexity and changeable waves, "not knowing what to love, what to sing." But, a thinker and a poet, he soon, after the first minutes of surprise, believed that the world itself, as a harmonious system, as a great whole, would sympathetically enter into his consciousness, kindred to the world, merge into a single image and from his soul, a friendly soul, expel high praise beautiful hymns. The world and the heart have the same strings - they will understand each other and merge in the poet's song.
Venevitinov believes in the poet. He paints his image with clever and original colors that correspond to his general worldview, harmoniously combining elements of art and philosophy. The poet, the broadcaster of the word, according to the peculiar thought of our singer, is silent.
Silent genius of thought
He was given from birth
The seal of silence on the lips.
The poet is like contemplation. The Knight of Silence, the great silencer, he keeps in himself "unsolved feelings", and if his few inspired words are so beautiful, it is precisely because they are born in the bosom of silence. And the poet, the son of silence, wise silence, as if ashamed of the spoken words, -
As if he hears a reproach
For irrevocable impulses.
That is why it is necessary to pass by the poet without noise, so that his quiet dreams, his deep meditation, are not frightened. And for himself, Venevitinov wants this sacred solitude; he calls on his guardian angel to become a faithful guardian of the enemy of his kingdom and overshadow his feelings with a secret. He is also afraid of other violent visitors, other tatis: "laziness with a dead soul", "envy with a poisonous eye." Especially noteworthy is this fear of laziness, whose soul he so correctly calls a murdered one: a living poet, he most of all, like Pushkin, did not want to turn into a dead soul. He was ready to give up joy (“reject joy from the heart: she is an unfaithful wife”), he wanted peace and thought, he did not want only death. But it was she who came, physical, and extinguished the fire in his "all-loving" chest.
Would it be a consolation to him that he left a trail of glory behind him? May be. Although he. as we have just seen, he refused earthly joy, an unfaithful wife, but sometimes (as in the poem "Three Fates") he still considered the best lot to be the share of the one who is "the careless pet of fun and laziness." And to his poet’s friend, he, the dissatisfied spouse of joy, an unfaithful wife, nevertheless attributed deep indifference to existence in the rays of the afterlife glory: “what’s beyond the grave is not ours,” but you want your own, you want life in its warmth and tangibility:
I love that my heart warms
What can I call mine
What a pleasure in a full bowl
We are offered every day.
Nevertheless, the poet at Venevitinov dies with the hope that he will not be forgotten and that he will be remembered:
How he knew life, how little he lived!
This, of course, is an epitaph for Venevitinov himself: he lived little, but knew life deeply - he knew it with the thought of a philosopher and the feeling of an artist. A friend of Shakespeare, and Goethe, and Pushkin, smart and warm-hearted, he bequeathed to Russian literature a pure memory and the sadness of an unfinished song. Alexander Odoevsky said that the young singer would hear this song, “not heard in the earthly strings”, in heaven; here, on earth, the “barely tuned lyre” fell out of his hands early, and therefore he did not have time “to pour out the beauty and harmony of the world into a harmonious sound.” He only hinted at this beauty. Alexander Odoevsky could say the same about himself.
From the book: Silhouettes of Russian writers. In 3 editions. Issue. 3. M., 1906 - 1910; 2nd ed. M., 1908 - 1913.
Yu.I. Eichenwald (1872 - 1928) - a well-known literary and theater critic, literary critic, essayist, translator, memoirist, who emigrated to Berlin in 1922. It was practically not reprinted in Soviet times.
