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PETITION
Page 1 of 11
Wolf Erlich
RIGHT TO SONG
WHEN I WAS EIGHT
I remember once dreaming that in the morning, while washing my face, I found a small paper box with tin soldiers on the window. The soldiers were dressed in the uniform of the marine corps, and among them was one officer in a short black coat and with a sword in his hand. When I woke up, I first of all went to examine the window sill. Of course, there was no box on it (I knew that it would not be), but still it was strange for me not to find it there. The dream was too clear. It seemed to me that I still felt the warm weight of the pewter in my hand. I waited for this dream the next night, but it did not come. Then I stuck to my mother, and by the end of the week I managed to beg from her instead of the promised visit to the circus the cost of a circus ticket - forty kopecks. Putting money in a mitten, I set off on foot, across the Volga, to Simbirsk (it was winter, and we lived in a village on the other side of the Volga). I found what I needed in Bobikov's toy store in Gostiny Dvor. It was a small paper box with tin soldiers. The soldiers were dressed in the uniform of the Marine Corps, and among them was indeed an officer in a short black coat and with a sword in his hand. They lived with me for quite some time. But now, when I am already twenty-six years old, I hardly, hand on heart, will be able to say which of these tin soldiers were more real: those that I saw in a dream, or those I bought in a toy store. Such is the time. That is why in this book I have limited myself to presenting especially crude and reliable facts known to me. And that is why, having written this book, I am still afraid that I have not managed not to lie. For who will tell me where Yesenin, who died in 1925, ends, and where the one whom I saw in a dream begins?
GAGARINSKAYA, 1, KV. 12
A small dirty street running from the Neva.
On it - a market, a bakery, a hairdresser and two pubs.
There is no cigarette stall. An old woman with a wart on her lip sells them on the porch of the house.
In the corner house overlooking the Neva (second courtyard, to the right) there is an apartment with a large corridor, a toilet as huge as a throne room, an office littered with books from top to bottom, and a long dining room partitioned off by an oak arch.
The apartment belongs to Alexander Mikhailovich Sakharov.
Sakharov's wife, his brother, children and always someone else live in it. Sometimes Sakharov himself also comes.
Arriving, he always spends some time at the end of the corridor, over huge piles of books piled in a heap, and tries to decide their fate. These are the unsold copies of the Elsevier publishing house - his brainchild. Here they found peace: "Composition of lyrical poems" by Zhirmunsky and defective copies of Yesenin's "Pugachev".
February month. One thousand nine hundred and twenty-four.
There is a disgusting, warm winter, illuminated by centuries of consumption and runny nose.
Three young people are wandering along Gagarinskaya. They are wearing well-worn autumn coats and Gostinodvor caps. These are imaginists. And not just Imagists, but members of the Militant Order of the Imagists. Huge difference! They are to the left and better.
There is even one Auror among them. A real sailor, with real scars and real memories of taking the palace.
In ordinary times, they are united by: a sincere passion for poetry, the belief that the essence of poetry is an image, and (a thing of the past) a slight penchant for hooliganism.
But at the moment, shyness chained them to each other stronger than strong.
She swept away the difference in their characters and even the difference in reasons that are now driving them along the same road.
They walk, holding each other tightly by the arms and trying to arrive as late as possible.
Gates. Stairs. Door.
- Crap! Arrived or not? How do you think?
- Who knows? Maybe not. Their!
They walk slowly through the kitchen into the hallway to the coat rack.
On the table near the hanger is a hat. You can turn on the light. The hat is unfamiliar. From her a mile away reeks of Europe. Turn over: the stigma is "Paris".
ACQUAINTANCE
You can switch to first person.
We stomp in the corridor for a long time, smoothing our hair and jackets, and finally, timidly, in single file, crawl into the dining room.
A slender, broad-shouldered man with a well-trimmed blond head is standing by the window.
Hearing footsteps, he slowly turns towards us.
A painful silence.
A minute later, the color begins to flood his face.
He shakes hands with us and says:
- Yesenin ... Here's what ... Let's go to the pub ... it's easier there.
We leave bolder than we entered. God was shyer than us.
By the evening we are on you.
Family dinner at the Sakharovs: Sakharov (has just arrived from Moscow), Sakharov's wife, Yesenin and two Sakharov boys.
The younger one is quiet with angel hair - Alka. He looks dreamily at everyone and with all his might beats the soup with a spoon.
Nanny moralizing:
- Look, Alik! If you indulge, God will not take you to heaven.
- A hundred such barking? - inquires Alka.
- And this is such a place! - the nanny explains. - Everything is there: pears, apples, oranges ...
POLYGLOT
Sergey! Stop boasting! "Goodbye" means "goodbye" and not "good morning" at all! Everything that you know in English, I know, and in addition - all right and make money!
- Make money - it's American! - Hanging up a towel, Yesenin corrects.
We get dressed and go out for tea.
Sakharov says in the dining room:
- I'm going along Tverskaya. I look - some foreigner stopped and screams. Words cannot be deciphered. The crowd is gathering. Came closer. Tree sticks! - Sergey.
- Yeah! - Alka nods her head. - It's like ours, in compote!
- Me, - shouts, - the whole world knows! They translated me into French! Do you want me to read? - Yes, suddenly how to yell all over the street: - Cook, cook peizan! - What? Not true?
Behind the laughter you can't hear what he says next. Everyone wants. When the laughter finally stops, Yesenin is heard. He waves his hand and says:
- And you, Sasha, against me? Well then, go!
In the evening, in the same dining room:
- I love Sasha! And he loves me! Do you know how? But! Does he love his wife and children? Loves! He loves only one thing more than his wife and children: the gramophone. And me - more than a gramophone. Don't laugh like a horse, but listen! I'm serious. Sashka sold his gramophone in order to publish my Pugachev. Understood? I will never forget this!
And half an hour later:
- In addition to Sasha, I have only one friend in this world: Galya. You do not know? We'll be in Moscow, you'll find out! Wonderful friend!
Evening.
Yesenin lying down corrects the proofs of "Moscow Tavern".
- Interesting!
- Did you like your poems?
- No, not that! The proofreader, the devil, puts a capital letter for the second time in "Ryazan"! What does he think, I don't know how Ryazan is spelled?
- It's still nothing, dear! That's when he goes to receive a fee for you ...
- Well, it's not! Three to the nose, don't you want? The fingers of the left hand are folded into a combination. When he finishes proofreading, he throws it on the table and gets up from the sofa.
- Do you know why I am a poet, and Mayakovsky is so-so - an incomprehensible profession? I have a home! I have Ryazan! I came out of there and, whatever it is, I will come there! And he has shish! So he wanders without roads, and he has nowhere to stick. Excuse me, but I'm older than you. Do you want good advice? Seek home! You will find - sir! You will not find - everything will go down the drain! There is no poet without a homeland!
Volodya read good poetry today. BUT? How are you? Did you like it? Very good poetry! Did you see how he drives word for word? Well done!
Yesenin does not go, but rather throws himself to the other end of the room, to the fireplace. Throwing a cigarette into the fireplace, she continues, looking at the puff of smoke coming from her:
- Very good poems ... One forgets! Yes, he is not alone! They all think like this: here is the rhyme, here is the size, here is the image, and the trick is in the bag. Master. The trait of a bald man is a master! You can teach this to a mare! Do you remember "Pugachev"? What are the rhymes? All in a thread! How polished shoes shine! This doesn't surprise me. And you know how to smile in verse, take off your hat, sit down - then you are a master! ..
- They say - I'm coming from Blok, from Klyuev. Fools! I have irony. Do you know who my teacher is? To be honest... Heine is my teacher! That's who!
Wolf Iosifovich Erlich(June 7, 1902, Simbirsk - November 24, 1937) - Russian Soviet poet.
Biography
Graduated from the Simbirsk gymnasium; participated in the activities of the gymnasium magazine "Youth". He studied at Kazan University - at the medical, then at its historical and philological faculty. During the Civil War, he served in the Red Army as secretary of the pedagogical laboratory of the Main Political Directorate of Education of the Committee of the Tatar Republic.
In 1920, he took a general education course in the 1st Infantry Kazan Territorial Regiment. From 1921 he studied at the Literary and Art Department of the Faculty of Social Sciences of Petrograd University, in 1923 he was expelled for poor progress. During this period, he joined the "Order of Militant Imagists".
In 1925, he held the position of responsible duty officer of the First House of the Leningrad Soviet, which was called "Chekist".
In the late 1920s together with N. Tikhonov he made his first trip to Transcaucasia (Armenia). In the 1930s he worked as a member of the editorial board of the Leningrad magazine, then as an executive secretary of the Nasleduchenie newspaper. In 1932 he went to the construction of the White Sea-Baltic Canal. In 1935, while in the Far East, he worked on the film script Volochaev Days.
On July 19, 1937, he was arrested in Armenia during his next trip, which he undertook to write a script about Armenian repatriates. Commission of the NKVD and the Prosecutor's Office of the USSR November 19, 1937 under Art. 58-1a-7-10-11 of the Criminal Code of the RSFSR sentenced to death. Shot in Leningrad on November 24, 1937.
On April 4, 1956, by the decision of the Military Collegium of the Supreme Court of the USSR, he was rehabilitated "due to the absence of corpus delicti in his actions."
A family
- Father - Joseph Lazarevich Erlich, pharmacist.
- Mother - Anna Moiseevna Erlikh (1874-1955).
- Sister - Mirra Iosifovna Tolkacheva.
Creation
He has been publishing poetry books since 1926. In 1929, his poem about Sophia Perovskaya was published. In 1936, together with N. Bersenev, he wrote the script for the film Volochaev Days. Poems were published in the newspaper and magazine Zvezda, Krasnaya Nov, Literary Contemporary, in the collection Leningrad Poets. Anthology "(L., 1934).
He was also known as a poet-translator from the Armenian language, translated the poems of Mkrtich Nagash and Mkrtich Adzhemyan; translations are published in Hakob Hakobyan's book “My World: Poems. Poems" (M., 1974).
He was a member of the Union of Soviet Writers.
Selected writings
- How Yesenin lived: Memoir. prose / [Compiled, ed. afterword, p. 354-373, and comment. A. L. Kazakov]. - Chelyabinsk: Yuzh.-Ural. book. publishing house, 1992. - 379 p. - (Author: S. Vinogradskaya, A. Mariengof, V. Erlich, V. Shershenevich, N. Volpin). - 100,000 copies. - ISBN 5-7688-0466-8.
- Erlikh V. I. Arsenal: Poems. - M.; L .: Ogiz - State. publishing house literature, 1931. - 68 p., 3,000 copies.
- Erlikh V. I. Wolf Sun: Poems. - [L.]: Surf, 1928. - 39 p., 2,000 copies.
- Erlikh V.I. In the village. - M.; L .: Rainbow, 1926. - 12 p.
- Erlikh V.I. Book of poems. - [L.]: Publishing house of writers in Leningrad, 1934. - 79 p. - 3500 copies.
- Erlikh V. I. Extraordinary dates of friends: [Poems]. - [M.]; [L.]: Owls. writer, 1937. - 65 p. - 5200 copies.
- Erlikh V.I. About lazy Vanka and his puppy: [Fairy tale]. - [M.]; [L.]: State. ed., 1926. - 16 p.
- Erlikh V.I. The order of the battle: [Poems]. - [L.]: Lengikhl, 1933. - 52 p. - 3200 copies.
- Erlikh V.I. The right to a song: [Memories of Yesenin]. - L .: Publishing house of writers in Leningrad, 1930. - 103 p. - 4200 copies.
- Erlikh V.I. Sophia Perovskaya: [Poem]. - [L.]: Publishing house of writers in Leningrad, 1929. - 35 p. - 1600 copies.
- Erlikh V. I. Poems and poems / Enter. article by N. Tikhonov. - M.; L.: Owls. writer, 1963. - 127 p. - 10,000 copies.
- Erlikh V. I. Collection of poems / Foreword by Evgeny Kogan. - M.: Aquarius, 2015. - 192 p.
Wolf Erlich on Yesenin's death
1919 Cafe of poets Tverskaya, 18. Board room of the Union of Poets.
Winter twilight. Thick tobacco smoke. The board room next to the kitchen. Warmth wafts from the kitchen, the smells of food are heard. The time of war communism: food and warmth are indescribably pleasant. Heat and food: what else do you need in life?
We talk with Yesenin about literature. The conversation is lively. The first years of our acquaintance with Yesenin were for him a period of intense search for a creative path; during this period, Yesenin loved to talk, loved to philosophize. In the future, he began to talk less about art; and only in the last year of his life, especially in the last months before his death, did he still talk a lot about art.
“You know,” Yesenin said among other things: “I love Gebel very much. Goebel had a great influence on me. You know? German folk poet...
– The Germans have three poets with very similar surnames, but with different names: Friedrich Goebbel, Emanuel Geibel and, finally, Johann Goebel. Johann Goebel - author of "Oatmeal Kissel".
- Imagine, Sergey: my aunt, a simple peasant woman, learned to read and write from her schoolchildren, read “Oatmeal Kissel” translated by Zhukovsky, or, perhaps, only listened to this German idyll from a reader and composed a song about jelly. She came up with a motive for the song and sang it at peasant feasts and weddings. I don't know this song by heart. She is distinguished by great spontaneity, naive and touching; in this song, just like in many things of Goebel, there is moralizing. In form it is an excellent thing: subtle refined end harmonies. This song needs to be recorded. I am pleased that you and my aunt are literary relatives: you have a common literary father: Gebel. At least he is your godfather to both of you.
I have never forgotten Yesenin's confession about the influence of Goebel on him, but I have never had to write about it.
At present, peering intently at the works of Goebel and Yesenin, I noticed a lot that I had not noticed before. I was struck by some similarities in the work of both poets.
Let me remind readers of Goebel: Johann-Peter Goebel (1760-1826) came from a poor family of weavers. He wrote in the southern German folk dialect. He wrote predominantly idyll. Goebel's most outstanding book is his "Alemannic Poems" ("Alemanniche Gedichte"), which appeared in 1803. This book is written in a naive and harmonious language. In it, Goebel reflects the life, way of thinking and customs of the motherland. The "Alemannic Poems" are full of warmth, softness and sincerity, in which the immediacy of feelings and thoughts is occasionally violated by moralizing features.
Goethe highly appreciated Goebel. Here is what Goethe says about the author of the Alemannic Poems: “Goebel, depicting inanimate nature with fresh, bright colors, knows how to revive it with cute allegories. Ancient poets and their latest imitators filled it with ideal beings: nymphs, dryads, oreads lived in cliffs, trees and streams. Goebel, on the contrary, sees in all these objects only his acquaintances - the villagers, and all his poetic fictions in the most pleasant way remind us of rural life, the fate of a humble farmer and shepherd ... In everything, both on earth and in heaven, he sees his rural resident; with captivating simplicity he describes his field labors, his family joys and sorrows; he especially succeeds in depicting the seasons of the day and the year; he gives soul to plants; attractively depicts everything pure, moral and pleases the heart with pictures of a clear, carefree life. But just as simply and strikingly he depicts the terrible, often with the same gracious simplicity he speaks of higher subjects, of death, of the perishability of the earthly, of the immutability of the heavenly, of life beyond the grave - and his language, without ceasing for a minute to be an unartificial language. villager, without any effort rises along with objects, expressing equally important, and lofty, and melancholy. (I quote in the translation of V. A. Zhukovsky.)
I cite in detail Goethe's opinion about Goebel because the same features that Goethe notes in Goebel's work determine Yesenin's early work.
Yesenin in his book “The Keys of Mary”, revealing the concept of an angelic image, mentions Goebel simultaneously with Edgar Allan Poe, Longfellow, Uhland and Shakespeare. Yesenin puts the works of Goebel along with those works "that shine brightly for a long series of centuries."
Many of Yesenin's poems are close in content and mood to Gebel's.
The influence of Goebel is noticeable in some of the poems of "Doves", "Rural Book of Hours", "Treyadnitsa".
Yesenin, throughout his career, either moved away from Goebel, then returned to him again.
In particular, Yesenin is close to Goebel in Pantocrator: on the topic, on the thought invested in this work. "Pantocrator" is Goebel's "Perishability". In Goebel's "Perishability", the grandfather and grandson are talking about the fate of the world, about the appointment of people, about the death of the earth, about life after the grave after the disappearance of life on earth. Moreover, in Gebel, the grandfather teaches his grandson, the grandfather tells about the fate of the world and people. In Pantocrator, the grandson addresses the deceased grandfather with the same speeches that Goebel puts into his grandfather's mouth.
The meeting of the living and the dead is given by Yesenin in exactly the same way as by Goebel.
In proof, a few quotations from both poets. I quote Goebel in the translation of V. A. Zhukovsky:
Goebel:
Everything, finally
It lit up, it burns, it burns and it burns out
To the bottom, and there is no one to extinguish, and by itself
It will go out ...
Yesenin:
From earth to invisible land
I am destined to sail away.
I myself will lay my soul
To this burning bottom.
Goebel:
...but be kind and you will
In one of the stars, and there will be peace with you;
And if God judges, you will find
There and their own: father and mother and ... grandfather.
Yesenin:
Oh, let them, those who are in the dark
We are drunk with a lamp in the sky,
They will see from their fields,
We are going to visit them.
Yesenin's dying poem "Goodbye, my friend, goodbye" sounds like Gebel. Dying, Yesenin returned to Goebel: “a meeting ahead”, a meeting in the afterlife, a meeting in another world: this is the motive of Goebel and the romantics.
Yesenin has an amazing poem on the tragic essence hidden in it; it was written in the last year of the poet's life. In this poem, Yesenin, among other things, says:
I bet on the Queen of Spades
And he played the ace of diamonds.
Playing the Queen of Spades is bad: the epigraph to The Queen of Spades, taken by Pushkin from the "latest divination book", is the following quote: "The Queen of Spades means secret malevolence." Pushkin's Hermann played for the Queen of Spades and ended the game badly, very badly.
Playing an ace of diamonds is even worse, nothing can be worse than this.
The symbolism of Yesenin's ace of diamonds is fully revealed only on one condition: if we know about the influence of Goebel on our poet.
Look at Goebel's fairy tale: "The Red Carbuncle".
The hero of the fairy tale, Walter, was good to everyone, and smart, and agile. But early he began to love taverns. He took cards on holidays in his hands. Once in a tavern, noticing Walter's frantic game, a certain Zeleny, known among the people as Buka, grumbled, squinting:
"You won't leave me!"
Mina, Walter's fiancee, has a prophetic dream: the monk gives her three cards: one of these cards is an ace of diamonds, isn't it? Badly; after all, a red carbuncle, which means it is ... a bad share.
Having married, Walter makes a promise to Mina:
I will refuse the game and throw the damned cards;
Take the soul of Satan, as soon as I touch them with my finger.
But to lag behind wine - and do not ask in a dream; I won't leave.
Walter did not keep his promise. So he came to the tavern, and Zeleny was already shuffling there. Again Green draws him into the game. Green is lost and, in payment for the loss, gives Walter a wonderful ring:
Rare stone, carbuncle; it has a secret power...
Know: as soon as there is no money, you are a ring - on your finger, but boldly
Put your hand in your pocket, and a ringing, silver thaler will come out.
Walter destroyed the family hearth. He is terrified like cold. He's running. Night. Field. Calling Green. That one is.
“Listen, it’s not good to stay here now,” Zeleny says, “it will be bad.”
And advises Walter to hide.
Together they make an escape. Tavern again. A candle is lit in the tavern.
“Let’s go for a minute,” Zeleny suggests, “there are good people here; help you walk around.
Enter. Latecomers sit in the tavern, drink and play. Walter and Zeleny moved towards them, and the war began to boil.
In Goebel's The Red Carbuncle, just as in Pushkin's The Queen of Spades, the meaning of the words conventionally used in the card game is transferred in the hero's frustrated imagination to reality, accepted as a real fact, as real life itself.
I quote excerpts from Pushkin and Goebel as an illustration of this rare literary and psychological device:
Pushkin:
“Your lady has been killed,” Chekalinsky said affectionately.
Hermann shuddered... At that moment it seemed to him
that the Queen of Spades narrowed her eyes and grinned.
The extraordinary resemblance struck him...
- The old woman! he screamed in horror.
Goebel:
- Bay! - they shout. - "Come!" - I burst! -
"Trump!" - Killed it!
stabbed to death!.. deep, deep.
A heavy word was planted in his heart; and Buka,
They just take a bribe, repeat it and look at Walter.
Walter plays in the night tavern, having with him a wonderful ring. The suit, as a choice, is worthless. Is being played. He is deceived: the ring loses its miraculous power.
Here ... and the first quarter. With a ring on his finger, he
He put it in his pocket: "Change me a thaler." Bad coin.
Walter, bad coin: broken glasses in your pocket! ..
Too late, too late, nothing will help...
Night. Green goes in front, and behind him Walter wanders, like a submissive lamb, wandering towards the bloody log. The stars in the sky faded. The air is stuffy. The thread will not move. The leaf does not tremble. In the silence and darkness of the night, he hears the voice of the Green:
- Walter, why are you so silent? .. Are you already praying,
Or do you consider yourself a loser? All lost irretrievably.
How to be? And the choice was bad, I myself admit.
Zeleny gives Walter a weapon and persuades him to commit suicide. The unfortunate Walter-Seryozha lays hands on himself.
Ivan Gruzinov
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From the author's bookIvan Gruzinov About Yesenin's death 1919 Cafe of poets Tverskaya, 18. Board room of the Union of Poets. Winter twilight. Thick tobacco smoke. The board room next to the kitchen. Warmth wafts from the kitchen, the smells of food are heard. The time of war communism: food and warmth are pleasant
(1902-06-07 )In 1925, he held the position of responsible duty officer of the First House of the Leningrad Soviet, which was called "Chekist".
On July 19, 1937, he was arrested in Armenia during his next trip, which he undertook to write a script about Armenian repatriates. On November 19, 1937, the commission of the NKVD and the USSR prosecutor's office sentenced him to death. Shot in Leningrad on November 24, 1937.
A family
Creation
He has been publishing poetry books since 1926. In 1929, his poem about Sofya Perovskaya was published. In 1936, together with N. Bersenev, he wrote the script for the film Volochaev Days. Poems were published in the newspaper and magazine Zvezda, Krasnaya Nov, Literary Contemporary, in the collection Leningrad Poets. Anthology "(L., 1934).
He was also known as a poet-translator from the Armenian language, translated the poems of Mkrtich Nagash and Mkrtich Adzhemyan; translations are published in Hakob Hakobyan's book “My World: Poems. Poems" (M., 1974).
Selected writings
- How Yesenin lived: Memoir. prose / [Compiled, ed. afterword, p. 354-373, and comment. A. L. Kazakov]. - Chelyabinsk: Yuzh.-Ural. book. publishing house, 1992. - 379 p. - (Author: S. Vinogradskaya, A. Mariengof, V. Erlich, V. Shershenevich, N. Volpin). - 100,000 copies. - ISBN 5-7688-0466-8.
- Erlikh V.I. Arsenal: Poems. - M.; L .: Ogiz - State. publishing house literature, 1931. - 68 p., 3,000 copies.
- Erlikh V.I. Wolf sun: Poems. - [L.]: Surf, 1928. - 39 p., 2,000 copies
- Erlikh V.I. In the village. - M.; L .: Rainbow, 1926. - 12 p.
- Erlikh V.I. Book of poems. - [L.]: Publishing house of writers in Leningrad, 1934. - 79 p. - 3500 copies.
- Erlikh V.I. Unusual dates of friends: [Poems]. - [M.]; [L.]: Owls. writer, 1937. - 65 p. - 5200 copies.
- Erlikh V.I. About lazy Vanka and his puppy: [Fairy tale]. - [M.]; [L.]: State. ed., 1926. - 16 p.
- Erlikh V.I. Order of battle: [Poems]. - [L.]: Lengikhl, 1933. - 52 p. - 3200 copies.
- Erlikh V.I. The right to a song: [Memories of Yesenin]. - L .: Publishing house of writers in Leningrad, 1930. - 103 p. - 4200 copies.
- Erlikh V.I. Sofia Perovskaya: [Poem]. - [L.]: Publishing house of writers in Leningrad, 1929. - 35 p. - 1600 copies.
- Erlikh V.I. Poems and poems / Enter. article by N. Tikhonov. - M.; L.: Owls. writer, 1963. - 127 p. - 10,000 copies.
- Erlikh V.I. Collection of poems / Foreword by Evgeny Kogan. - M. : Aquarius, 2015. - 192 p.
Reviews
He passionately loved poetry, loved art.<…>Wolf Erlich could have given many more good poems and good prose. He grew and grew stronger as a writer and poet.
The book about Yesenin is beautifully written. The big world is opened in such a way that you do not notice how it is done, and you enter directly into it and remain.
Erlich and Yesenin
On his last visit to Leningrad in December 1925, Yesenin instructed Erlich to rent an apartment for him, then changed his mind, deciding to stay with the Erlichs, but nevertheless settled in a hotel. Saying goodbye to Erlich at the Angleterre Hotel, Yesenin thrust his last poem “Goodbye, my friend, goodbye ...” into his breast pocket of his jacket, asking him to read it at home. He was one of the witnesses in the 5th issue of Angleterre, where they found the body of Sergei Yesenin.
Notes
- The biography on the site "People and Books" indicates the date of birth May 6, 1902.
- The certificate of rehabilitation, issued in 1955, indicates the year of death 1944 . Yukhtanov A. Wolf Ehrlich: friend or killer? (indefinite) (unavailable link). Arguments and Facts: Ulyanovsk (May 23, 2012). Retrieved November 15, 2012. Archived from the original on June 6, 2012.
- Wolf Erlich: biography, photo. Wolf Erlich and Yesenin
- Erlich Wolf Iosifovich (05/06/1902-11/24/1937) (indefinite)
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Biography
Erlikh Wolf Iosifovich, Russian Soviet poet, comes from a Jewish family.
After the Simbirsk gymnasium, he studied at the Faculty of History and Philology of Kazan University.
In 1936, together with N. Bersenev, he wrote the script for the film Volochaev Days.
Erlich was well known and appreciated by the reading public of the 1920s and 1930s. He was also known as a poet-translator from the Armenian language.
Member of the Union of Soviet Writers.
Lived in: Leningrad, st. Rubinshteina, 7, apt. 12.
On July 19, 1937 Wolf Ehrlich was arrested. Commission of the NKVD and the Prosecutor's Office of the USSR November 19, 1937 on charges: art. 58-1a-7-10-11 of the Criminal Code of the RSFSR sentenced to death. Shot on November 24, 1937. Rehabilitated in the 1950s.
Erlich and Armenia
At the end of the twenties, Erlich, together with Tikhonov, made his first trip to the Caucasus. Tikhonov, who persuaded a friend to go with him to the “discovery” of the biblical country, which he had already visited earlier, in 1924, and fell in love with it selflessly, giving the Russian reader a wonderful “Armenian cycle” of poetry and prose, recalled the delight of his companion, who discovered Armenia for myself:
"Works and reflections" of the poet himself were not long in coming. Together with Tikhonov, climbing Aragats, climbing the volcanic heights of the Armenian mountains above Sevan, Erlich wrote and published in the Russian literary press remarkable poems and essays about the Armenian land and the Armenian people (“Armenia”, “Alagez stories”, etc.).
The story of N. Tikhonov about the days spent with Erlich in Armenia, and reflected in his famous essay "Days of Discoveries", is so exciting that it is impossible to bypass it, especially since it also contained the most interesting observations about Yesenin, sounded first hand.
“In the summer of 1929, together with the Leningrad poet Wolf Erlich, we wandered through the wonderful mountains of Armenia. Having overcome the Geghama Range, we had to go to the upper reaches of the Garni-chai and go down to Geghard, a monastery called Ayrivank, which means “cave”. Since no shelter awaited us in this stormy area, we found rocks in which, shimmering with a strange, phosphoric blue, flashing with white sparks, a small lake lurked. Among the dark basalt rocks, it seemed like a piece of blue flame. A better place to stay could not be imagined. The water in the lake was very cold. Before we had time to stop, an unusually strong wind blew ... A cold wind, a cold stone of rocks, a cold lake ... But we did not want to leave here ...
Wolf exclaimed: “This is a magical place! And the sorcerer is there ... ”I went to him. He stood in front of a stone statue, gloomy and concealing an unknown threat. "What it is?" - he asked. “This is vishap, only vishap! God knows what it is. Either a road sign, or an object of worship, or something else ... There are whole studies about vishaps. The opinions of scientists differ. But the fact that we found it here is very interesting. Let's drink to his health!" And we drank vodka like water, not feeling its taste - it was so cold ... The tall vishap also looked at us with icy wide eyes. The huge body of a monster, either a fish or a dragon, polished by the winds, beaten by storms, was hammered into stones as a sign of eternity. Vishap stood guard over the phosphoric lake. On its shore one could talk about anything, the emptiness of this place was conducive to frankness, and human voices were simply necessary here. And we talked, standing under the freezing wind of the desert ... "
On the volcanic heights of Armenia, among the ancient craters, Erlich suddenly asks Tikhonov: “What day is it today?” Hearing the answer "August 22, 1929", he pointedly says:
Not only the majestic nature, but also the people of Armenia amazed Erlich. Once among ordinary peasants, he confidently declares to Tikhonov: “I like this ancient and so young, fierce, strong people ... I will return to Armenia, I give you my word of honor. I have already seen many people of this country, but I want to see even more ... "
Erlich kept his word: he visited Armenia more than once and later, without Tikhonov, got to know it all, shared feasts with the winegrowers of the Ararat Valley, communicated with the border guards on the Araks, lived on the cares of repatriates, admired the Armenian intelligentsia ... Armenia conquered Erlich forever, and only it is sincerely a pity that his spiritual and spiritual attachment to the ancient country and people turned out to be the last in his life!
Wolf Erlich also became interested in translations from Armenian poetry, giving several generally successful samples from Mkrtich Nagash, Hakob Hakobyan, and others. The name of Erlich as a translator is found in a number of anthologies of Armenian poetry in Russian, which indicates a fairly high assessment of his translation exercises in Armenia.
The excitement of meeting with a new land, comprehending the attractive world with strangers, customs, harsh bewitching nature make a revolution in the heart of the young Wolf and give an excellent result: a talented writer with a dramatic finale of his life, with his brotherly inspired word, complements a worthy number of friends of the Armenian people, artists who sang Armenia.
In 1937 Wolf was arrested in Yerevan by local authorities and sent to Leningrad. In November of the same year, he was sentenced under the "execution" article ... There is a version that Erlich, who was really arrested in the thirty-seventh, was actually killed in prison only in 1944. It is only known for certain that in 1937. Erlich comes to Armenia to collect materials about Armenian repatriates (a new film was being prepared according to his script). Came and disappeared. As it was believed later, Erlich seemed to stay up to visit one of the Armenian families, and at night the whole family was arrested by the NKVD, at the same time taking the Russian poet. The relatives were not told anything, and they did not know what to think. N. Tikhonov energetically joined the search in Russia, Marietta Shaginyan in Armenia, however, their persistent search was promptly covered by the “authorities”, recommending not to contact anyone else on this issue ...
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