The Poetics of Lermontov I. The Process of Creation.

Lermontov's artistic methods bear an extraordinary resemblance to that of a painter, who ahead of time makes little sketches in order to use them later fo r the full canvas; every detail of the future painting is worked out by him in d ozens of small drafts on which he tries out the colors, until they come to life; many of these sketches remain unused in the big picture, many combinations of c olors go into the painting; but when the last is finished, all of these preparat ory works lose their meaning in the eyes of the artist and lie scattered about l ike so much unneeded rubbish in his studio, until they are picked up posthumousl y by his admirers and transferred to a museum where they remain memorials of his creative work. Exactly this occurred with the works of Lermontov: little by little after his death everything that he left behind was published, his creative achievement s being issued simultaneously with his preparatory works. If we examine the lat ter as completed artistic works we experience upon reading them a feeling of aes thetic dissatisfaction: defects in style and composition catch the eye right alo ngside the bold brush strokes of genius. But Lermontov himself did not have suc h works as "The Boyar Orsha" (Boyarin Orsha)2, "Aul Bastundzhi", "The Lithuanian Girl" (Litvinka) published, and apparently did not intend to do so. Thus we ha ve no right to place on them the same high demands which, for instance, "The Nov ice" (Mtsyri) meets. We must examine many of Lermontov's works as preparatory s ketches, partly used by him, and partly unused: indeed, what is left of the poem "The Boyar Orsha" if we cross out all of those lines that later went into "The Novice"? Therefore we will divide all of Lermontov's major works into experimen ts and achievements3: the latter being far fewer. Of Lermontov's major works on ly the following are achievements: "The Novice", "The Demon" (Demon), "The Song of the Merchant Kalashnikov" (Pesnya pro kuptsa Kalashnikova), "The Treasurer's Wife" (Kasnachejsha), "Valerik", "The Deserter" (Beglets), "Fairy Tale for Child ren" (Skazka dlya detej), and "Hero of Our Time" (Geroi nashego vremeni). All t he rest, -- his long poems, dramas, beginnings of novels and stories -- are dear to us as Lermontov's legacy, but far and away do not reach the height of those standards which we have a right to set for our poet on the basis of his immortal achievements. It is far more difficult to sort Lermontov's lyric poetry, but this afford s us a look into the poetic laboratory of our superlative {greatest} poet. We w ill take the poem "To ..." (K ***) (V.1, p. 188)4 Kogda tvoj drug s prorocheskoj toskoju Tebe vverjal tolpu svoikh zabot, Ne znala ty nevinnoju dushoju, Chto golova, ljubimaja toboju, S tvoej grudi na plakhu perejdet. On byl rozhden dlja mirnykh vdokhnovenie, Dlja slavy, dlya nadezhd, no mezh ljudej On ne godilsja... i t.d. With the exception of the italicized phrases the poem is obviously weak; b ut the most valuable is used later: Ne smejsja nad moej prorocheskoj toskoju! Ja znal, udar sud'by menja ne obojdet; Ja znal, chto golosa, ljubimaja toboju, S tvoej grudi na plakhu perejdet. (v. II, p, 214)

Another phrase from the first poem is repeated in the following draft: On byl rozhden dlja schast'ja, dlja nadezhd I vdokhnovenij mirnykh! No bezumnyj Iz detskikh rano vyrvalsya odezhd I serdtse brosil v more zhizni shunoj I svet ne poshchadil, i Bog ne spas! Tak sochnyj plod, do vremeni sozrelyj, Mezhdu tsvetov visim osirotelyj; Ni vkusa on ne raduem, ni glaz; I chas ix krasoty -- ego paden'ja chas... This excerpt on its own contains elements of the poems "Meditation" (Duma) and "In Memory of A.I. Odoevskij" (Pamjati A.I. Odoevskogo). The following dependence results: "To ..." "On byl rozhden..." "N e smejsja nad moej prorocheskoj toskoju..." "In Memory of A.I. "Meditation" Odoevskij" This sort of dependence can be established among many of Lermontov's poems . And this kind of phenomenon we do not encounter in other poets. Pushkin, for instance, did not use old sketches for a new work, with only isolated exception s.5 He either brought it to artistic completion or he forgot about it. For eac h new idea he had new images and expressions. The form was inextricably joined to the content: the two belonged together, and after jotting down a new poem, Pu shkin zealously worked on the details, inserting his pointed epithets, rounding out expressions. The process of Lermontovian locution {creation, expression -tvorchestvo} is different: he has in readiness the details -- expressions {locut ions}, epithets, anthitheses; the question was where to find a place for them. In Lermontov's imagination, conceptions and plots are changeable. While the bas ic elements of form are repeated and seek for themselves a suitable application. In short, in Lermontov we observe a great stability of images and expressions {locutions} in the presence of instability of plots. He is a stingy knight of i mages and locutions and a mad spendthrift of images. He does not prize plots -there are plenty in his works -- and he parts with them without regret. And so his images and locutions take on the character of fixed ideas. Thus, for example, the confession of "The Novice" was finished in broad ou tline as early as 1830; but he did not know into whose mouth to place it; the ge neral image of the youth uttering this confession was also clear to Lermontov: i t had to be a young man with tremendous strength of spirit being brought up {gro wing up} in an environment inappropriate for him. But with what sort of plot to link this image, in what kind of attire to clothe him? -- this question long c onfronted Lermontov -- until he utilized his impressions of the Caucuses. And s o at first the poet dressed him in the outfit of a Spanish monk, who is being th reatened by a count of inquisition: the result is the fragment "The Confession" (Ispoved'). But for this subject matter, color is lacking, -- Lermontov was una ble to describe Spain, which he had never seen. In 1835 this image appears unde r the guise of the Boyar Orsha's ward {adopted child}; however, this refinement was not successful in his depiction of ancient Russia {ancient Russian culture, Russian antiquity}, and also the very personality of the hero was not appropriat e to it. Finally, in 1839 the poet found a fitting subject and colors: the poem "The Novice" was born.

And such is the creative process of Lermontov. It is defined by its fixed {recurring} images and expressions, for which he selected subjects. A stubborn and persistent observer, he long sought the colors to convey an occurrence stri king to him; first it would appear as a pale outline in his verse; the second an d third time he repeated the sketch, you look, and the lines have become more de fined, the colors brighter, the painting lights up {is illuminated} with life an d suddenly shines with all the subtleties of a rainbow, and, blooming brightly a nd distinctly, is presented to the reader. And in it such great vitality has ap peared, bringing out meaning unsuspected by the poet himself, image has changed to symbol, appearing in new combination. An unintended symbolism and unintended impressionism has emerged. II. Images, Style and Language "When I was around three years old," wrote the poet in 1830, "there was a song which made me cry: I cannot recall it now, but I am certain that if I heard it, it would have the previous effect. My deceased mother used to sing it to m e." V mladencheskikh letakh ja mat' poterjal; No mnilos', chto v rozovyj vechera chas Ta step' povtorjala mne pamjatnyj glas he repeats in verse. He poeticized this song of his mother's in the poem "Angel ". The tedious songs of the earth cannot take the place of the sounds of the he avens for the soul who has heard the song of God Almighty. Nonetheless, he avid ly listens to the tedious songs of the earth and attempts to detect the faint so unds of his cherished song: Est' slova, -- ob'jasnit' ne mogu ja, Omchego u nikh vlast' nado mnoj ...................................................... Est' zvuki -- znachen'e nichtozhno, I prezreno gordoj tolpoj, No ikh pozabyt' nevozmozhno: Kak zhizn', oni slity s dushoj ...................................................... Est' rechi -- zhachen'e Temno il' nichtozhno No im bez volnen'ja Vnimat' nevozmozhno ...................................................... Chto za zvuki! Nepodvizhen bnemlju Strannym zvukam ja; Zabyvaju vechnost', nebo, zemlju, Samogo sebja... "The Novice", for the entire length of the poem, several times "listens": Ja sel i vslushivat'sja stal... All of Lermontov's heroines, -- almost without exception, -- love to sing {are people who love to sing}: Tamara and the Georgian woman from "The Novice", and the Cossack mother, and the girl from Taman', and even Garun's bride, of who m we know only through her song. All of Lermontov's heroes are very sensitive t o songs: the novice keeps remembering the simple song of the Georgian girl, and the song of the fish, and nearing death he wants to hear the "rodnoj zvuk" {nat

ive sound?}of the Caucasus cliffs; the Demon twice succumbs to the irresistible charm of Tamara's song; Pechorin memorizes word for word the smuggler's song, an d Bela's song carries for him a crucial magnificence. To the sounds of the song of an angel the soul comes into the world, and Tamara's soul returning to heave n hears the "zvuki raja" {sounds of paradise} echoing {being carried} from afar. Both life and eternity are a continuous song. Lermontov does not always supply the content of the song: for him it is no t so important as the attraction produced by it: Prostaja pesnja to byla No v mysl' ona mne zalegla About the melodies of the neighbor he says in {upon} conclusion: O chem oni, -- ne znaju, no tockoj Ispolnena... Of Tamara's song: I eta pesnja byla nezhna, Kak budto dlja zemli ona Byla na nebe slozhena. In childhood Lermontov would cry because of his mother's song, -- and his mother, likely, stopped the child's tears with kisses. Sounds in Lermontov's po etry are associated always with tears and kisses: i zvuki cheredoj, Kak slezy, tikho l'jutsja, l'jutsja ..................................................... i slezy iz ochej, Kak zvuki, drug za drugom l'jutsja ...................................................... I zvuki te lilis', lilis' Kak slezy, l'jutsja drug za drugom... ........................................................ Kak potseluj, zvuchit i taet, Tvoj golos molodoj. ...................................................... Ona poet, -- i zvuki tajut Kak potseluj na ustakh. And since all of life is a song, it is measured by means of kisses and tea rs ("I formerly considered my happy life to be kisses... and tears I once though t to be..."). Because it reminds him of heaven, the song becomes a prayer: sev eral prayers have been left us by Lermontov, and the prayer became for him an el ement of comparison: "Quiet was all in heaven and on earth, as in a person's hea rt in a moment of morning prayer..." "The air so clear, like a child's prayer.. .". And further -- Lermontov's love for {penchant for} comparisons of the mater ial with the immaterial: the air is fresh and clear, "like a child's kiss," a wo man is beautiful, "like the reverie of a child under the Southern sun," a voice -- "sweet like a dream," mountain ranges are "unfaithful, strange like dreams", "capricious like dreams," stars are "bright like the happiness of a child". The child figures into many comparisons and metaphors: the child is dear to Lermon tov because it still hears the "sounds of the heavens", it has not forgotten the m: Letajut sny-muchiteli

Nad greshnymi ljudmi, I angely-khraniteli Besedujut s det'mi. Another image which affected Lermontov during childhood and which also in many ways influenced his style was the cloud. In this connection we encounter a note from 1830. "I remember a certain dream; when I was about eight years old it had a pow erful effect on my soul. I was alone somewhere riding towards a thunderstorm an d I remember the cloud, which was rather small and which was like a torn-off pie ce of a black raincoat, quickly rushed across the sky: it is so vivid to me, as if I see it now.{it is as vivid to me as if I see it now}" This cloud, truly, was always vivid in Lermontov's imagination: he filled his poems to such a degree with clouds, storm clouds, smoke, haze and fog that to cite all these instances is not possible, nor is it necessary: they are in ea sy view for all {plainly visible -- na vidu}. But these clouds do not make his poetry hazy {vague}: they do not obscure the sun and the night sky which are alw ays bright in Lermontov's work: these clouds, smoke, and fog are elusive, they r oam {migrate}, and spend their nights in ravines; these really are not {even (da zhe)} clouds, but "fragments of thunderclouds"; they disappear without a trace, fly away"merrily playing on azure", and do not remove bright sun colors from the painting. For this reason the poet likes to compare human affairs and opinions , and childhood dreams with the traceless, disappearing clouds. Clouds for Lermontov became a symbol of freedom, carefreeness, and also of homelessness {rootlessness}; therefore he sympathizes with and envies that whic h is expressed in the poem "Clouds" (Tuchi) and in the Demon's song "****" (Na v ozdyshnom okeane). Indeed, they became for Lermontov a powerful graphic device: due to them Lermontov's landscape assumes a specific character: depicting mount ains he dots them with clouds resting on the edges of cliffs and in canyons {rav ines, gorges} and utilizes an original, often recurring expression: in Lermontov 's works, the "mountains smoke" {gory kurjatsja); he employs this expression wid ely: "vdali aul kurit'sha nachal" ("The Novice"); "sinejushchij dymok kuritsja b glubine doliny", altars smoke, censers, sakli {Caucasian huts}, the village smo kes, scorched stubble {zhniva - stalks}, a wound, a ravine smokes, fog curls in smoke If Lermontov in childhood developed a passion for clouds, the Caucasus sup plied him in this regard with extremely rich material for observation: in "Hero of Our Time" he admits he long gazed at their intricate shapes. Studying Lermon tov's landscapes we come to the conclusion that clouds play within them an enorm ous role. The point being that Lermontov always depicts them in motion. Remove them from the painting -- and a majestic yet frozen, motionless landscape is al l that remains. Clouds for Lermontov do not interfere with illumination, but im part to the painting movement and life. For him they roam, drift, race, accompa ny the Terek, rush like a crowd to worship, embrace, weave, and wend their way t o the East, -- and thanks to them the landscape comes alive. Observing the slow, creeping movements of clouds, the poet more than once compared them to snakes: Polzut, kak zmei, oblaka. ("Khadzhi Abrek"). ... Obnjavshis', svivshis', budto kucha zmej... ("Sashka"). ... Tumany, klubjas' i izvivajas', kak zmei... ... krugom ego vilis' i polzali, kak zmei, serye klochki oblakov... ("Bela"). Due to this association, Lermontov transfers his gaze to the snake and be gins to observe it persistently: he observes its movements, slow, careful and in tricate, and its cunning immobility. Lermontov painstakingly draws in detail th e image of the carefully frolicking and then motionlessly lying snake and repeat

s his drawing four times, retaining all the details and expressions, but {only} perfecting them; such identical descriptions are encountered in the poems: "Aul Bastundzhi" (pp. 51-6), "Izmajl'-bej" (pp. 416-425), "The Novice" (pp. 618-629) and, finally in "The Demon": I ostorozhnaja zmeja Iz teploj shcheli vypolzaet Na plitu starogo kryltsa. To vdrug sov'etsja v tri kol'tsa, To ljazhet dlinnoj polosoju, I bleshchem, kak bulatyj mech, Zabytyj v pole davnikh sech, Nenuzhnyj padshemu geroju... (pp. 1098-1105) Thus the snake becomes one of the most important devices of Lermontovian c omparison: to a snake's movements, as we have seen, clouds are compared; more th an once the poet ascribes the snake's nature to women (" Ona uskol'znet, kak zme ja...", "tvoja izmena chernaja ponjata mne, zmeja!...", "ee smejnaja natura vyde rzhala etu pytku"); in "Hero of Our Time" {the} Aragua is compared to a snake's shining scales; but most often to the snake are compared sadness, sorrow, grief, and recollection: V moej Dushe vse shevelitsja grust', kak zmej ("Aul Bastundzhi") I grust' na dne starunnoj pany Zashevelilasja, kak zmej... ("The Demon") (pechal')... lastitsja, kak zmej ("The Demon") I kak zmeju, my topchem gore... ("The Sailor" (Morjak)) V grudi moej shipit vospominan'e, Kak pod nogoj prizhataja zmeja. ("Sashka") Under the influence of these comparisons, the snake in Lermontov's works become s a symbol of sadness; or at least, we can in no other way explain the presence of may descriptions of snakes, almost identical, in the poems "The Demon" and "T he Novice": in both places the snake is given too much attention relative to oth er details of the setting, -- it is singled out and emphasized by the poet; and both times it appears in Lermontov when the poems' heroes have parted with their hopes and dreams, as though to tinge {accentuate} their sorrow. In all four of the aforementioned cases of description of snakes in Lermon tov's work, a comparison is invariably repeated with a sword, or dagger, or spea r: zmeja lezhit nepodvizhno i blestit, kak mech. Up to this point we have dealt with Lermontov's auditory and motor images. But the snake - a motor image - has become in the last {latest, latter} compar ison a visual image. The dagger for Lermontov is "a friend, shining and cold", a symbol of resoluteness, faithfulness, and strength, which is definitely expres sed in the poems "The Dagger" (Kinzhal) and "The Poet" (Poet). Lermontov enjoys comparing eyes to a dagger: I chernye glaza, ostanovjas' na mne, Isnolneni tainstvennoi pechali, Kak stal' tvoja pri trepetnom ogne, To vdrug tuskneli, to sverkali. ("The Dagger")

I blistali Kak lezvee krobaboj stali Glaza ego... (Izmajl'-bej") Such was the demon's gaze: Pred neju prjamo on sverkal Neotrazimyj kak kinzhal'. The same is said about Pechorin's eyes: "To byl blesk, podobnyj blesku gladkoj stali, oclepitel'nyj, no kholodnyj. .." (Hero of Our Time, v. IV, p. 189) And here a dual comparison of voice and glance to a dagger: Za zvuk odin volshebnyj rechi Za tvoj edinyj vzgljad Ja rad otdat' kracavtsa sechi -Gruzinskij moj bulam... I on poroju sladko bleshchet Zamanchivo zvuchit; Pri zvuke tom dusha trepeshchet I v serdtse krov' kipit... Here we enter into the rich world of Lermontov's visual images. His imagi nation is very colorful, he likes bright tropical light and does not acknowledge the halftones of the North. For him clouds never obscure the sun, for if they do block it, the artist's brush goes dry. It is remarkable that he, so many tim es having declared his kinship with the storm {squall (burja)}, is unable to des cribe a thunderstorm. In the poem "The Novice" he makes do with common epithets in his description of the thunderstorm: I v chas nochnoj, uzhasnyj chas, Kogda groza pugala vas Kogda, solpjas' pri altare Vy nits lezhali na zemle -Ja ubezhal. O, ja, kak brat, Obnjat'sja s burej byl by rad, Glazami tuchi ja sledil, Pukoju molniju lovil! Instead of thunderstorm imagery there is only the relating of the impressi on which produced on the monks and on the novice. And in "Hero of Our Time" Ler montov happily avoided description of the thunderstorm, describing only the buil d-up to the storm and contenting himself to mentioning {with mention} that the t hunderstorm had passed while Vera and Pechorin were in the grotto. Far more wil lingly Lermontov describes a blizzard or snowstorm, but once again he has no col ors for it, conveying it through sounds: all snowstorms for Lermontov are expeci ally melodious and often sing to the accompaniment of a bell. We hear them but do not see them. {Here are} Some examples: Kak pop, kogda on grob neset, Tak pesn' meletitsa poet, Igraet...

("Russian Song" (Russkaja pesnja)) Metel' shumit i sneg valit, No skvoz' shum vetra dal'nyj svon, Poroj prorvavshisja, gudit: To otgolosk pokhoron... In "The Demon", the temple {a chapel} is described Na vysote granitnykh skal, Gde tol'ko v'jugi slyshno pen'e... .................................................... I tam metel' dozorom khodit, Sduvaja pyl' so sten sedykh, To pesnju dolguju zavodit. To oklikaet chasovykh... In "The Song of the Merchant Kalashnikov": Nabegajut tuchki na nebo -Gonit ikh metelitsa raspivajuchi... In "Hero of Our Time": "... mjatel' gudela sil'nee i sil'nee, tochno nasha rodimaja, severnaja; t ol'ko eja dikie napevy byli pechal'nee, zaunyvnee." "I ty, izgnannitsa, -- duma l ja, -- plachesh' o svoikh shirokikh, razdol'nykh stepjakh!" Here there are no colors: only melodies. But in the sun's brilliance Lerm ontov takes the artist's brush, and before us appears the "goluboje i svezhee ut ro" {the blue and fresh morning}, "rumjanyj vecher" {ruddy, rubicund, rosy eveni ng}, "poldnja sladostrastnyj znoj" which sometimes turns into "ogon' bezzhalostn ogo dnja". Not confining himself to light shades, Lermontov achieves his light effects by detecting in the environment illuminated by the sun millions of rays of reflected light: when the sun shines, the mountains gleam, rivers, streams an d springs sparkle, each dewdrop glitters. "Kak ljubopytno vsmatrivalsja ja v ka zhduju rosinku, trepeshchushchuju na shirokom liste vinogradnom i otrazhavshuju millioni raduzhnikh luchej!..." -- he says in "Hero of Our Time", -- and this is true: depicting the overall landscape he gazes deeply into each dewdrop: he lig hts up all of nature with countless flames like a christmas tree {elku}; he sees everywhere gold, silver, diamonds, pearls, gems, emeralds, corals. Streams and mountains are golden, the Aragua and Kura wind {twine, edge} the edges of islan ds with a border of silver; bushes shower horsemen with silver rain, Kazbek glow s like the surface of a diamond, the snows burn like a diamond, dew for him is a lways pearl, it sparkles like a pearl of paradise, clouds drift like a pearl cha in and cast pearls on the leaves, mist shines like pearls, Teheran dozes by a pe arl fountain, foam of the waters6 is whiter than pearls, the leaves of the Orien tal plane trees are emerald, ivy winds around the cross with its emerald net, st reams shimmer first with a pearl fringe then with an emerald edge; even words th read themselves like pearl; brooks race to the bottom from multicolored stones, clusters resembling precious earrings; a wave rushes along like silver and pear ls. He often compares dewdrops to tears and stars; and to stars he often compar es eyes; from here are the very same epithets and metaphors in depiction of tear s and eyes. A tear for Lermontov is "almaz ljubvi, pechali cyn", "perl mezhdu r esnits"; a gaze is covered by pearl moisture... Stars are bright as eyes, and e yes -- {as} like stars. And eyes for Lermontov always sparkle {glitter, shine, flash}, as everything shines: Bela's eyes sparkle, "chudesno sverkali" Princess Mary's eyes, and, finally, in "Three Palms" (Tri pal'ma):

Motajas', viseli mezh tverdykh gerbov, Ubornye poly pokhodnykh shatrov; Ikh smuglye ruchki poroj podymali, I chernye ochi ottuda sverkali... Lunar effects in Lermontov's work are rarer and more monotonous {repetitiv e, homogenous}, although as an adolescent he sang hymns to the moon. {But then - zato} his {the} depiction of stars is more sincere {more heartfelt - zadushnee } and more symbolic: they speak to one another, listen, play joyfully as rays, r ejoice, allure; he compare dreams taking place in the demon's soul to stars; si milarly to clouds, stars roam, quietly floating in a fog and reveal an image of carefreeness and indifference to earthly affairs. Stars are many in Lermontov's verse. In the darkness of night he likes to "vstrechat' po storonam... drozhas hchie ogni..." ("skvoz' tuman polunochi blismal ogonek zolotoj...", "v znakomoj skale ogonek to trepetal, to snova gas...:, "... mel'kala v oknakh kel'i lampada skhimnitsi mladoj.."). Lermontov's settings take on a plasticity, owing to the tactile sensations which they evoke: the rigid humps of camels and the patterned coverings, the ge ntle song of a rusalka {mermaid} and the steep banks, gentle clouds and the spur s of mountains {mountain ranges}. Moreover, he conveys sensations of hot and of cold, oppressive and fresh air, and of an overall organic state. "Strannik ust alyj is chuzhdoj zemli pylajushchej grud'ju ko vlage studenoj..."; "lish' tol'ko ja s krutykh vysot spustilsja, svezhest' gornykh vod povejala navstrechu mne... "; "vot syrost'ju kholodnoju s vostoka poneslo..."; "dokhnuli sonnye tsvety...", "sady blagoukhaniem napolnilis' zhivym..."; "nynche, v pjat' chasov utra, kogda ja otkryl okno, moja komnata napolnilas' zapakhom tsvetov, pastushchikh v skrom nom palisadnike..."; "slijanie pervoj teploty ego (solnechnykh) luchej s umipaju shchej prokhladoj nochi navodilo na vse chuvstva kakoe-to sladkoe toplenie..."; "... vozdukh stanovilsja tak redok, chto bylo bol'no dyshat'; krov' pominutno pr ilivala v golovu, no so vsem tem kakoe-to otradnoe chuvstvo rasprostranilos' po vsem moim zhilam...". This ability to convey organic sensations in words manifested itself {beco mes manifested} with particular force in the poem "The Novice", where hunger, th irst, utter exhaustion, fever and illness are represented. Lermontov's landscapes are bright, full of sounds, lively, soft, they brea th and gently blow {like the wind}. These characteristics seem to become united in a picture of Georgia: Schastlivyj pyshnyj kraj semli! Stolpoobraznie ruiny, Zvonko begyshchie ruch'i Po dnu ikh kamnej razhotsvetnykh, I kuchi roz, gde solov'i Pojut krasavits, bezotvetnykh Na sladkij golos ikh ljubvi; Chinar razvesistye seni, Gustym venchannye pljushchem, Peshchery, gde paljashchim dnem Tajatsja robkie oleni; I blesk, i zhizn', i shum listov, Stozvychnyj govor golosov, Dykhan'e tysjachi rastenij, I poldnja sladoctractnyj znoj, I aromatnoju rosoj Vsegda uvlazhennie nochi, I zvezdy jarkie, kak ochi, Kak vzor gruzinki molodoj...

Here colors, sounds, movements, odors and breath all combine into one. Lermontov is an {the} impressionist7. Lighting for him plays not the fina l role. He is able to select it in a way that highlights the mood. In initial versions of "The Demon" a morning coloring {coloration} predominates; when the i mage of the demon in the poet's imagination finally took on a more distinct shap e, it became "pokhozh na vecher jasnyj", the morning coloring in the final versi on was replaced by that of evening: the whole poem is suffused {bathed} in the s carlet purple of a sunset, to which at the end of the poem {poema} a smile is co mpared, frozen on Tamara's dead face. The reverse phenomenon occurred with the poem "The Novice": in its initial sketch ("Confession") the action occurs in the evening ("Den' chas..."); in the definitive edition, a morning coloration predo minates, more fitting to {the novice's} Mtsyri's youthful appearance; the sunset is deliberately withdrawn, -- the novice does not observe it. Pechorin's despa ir in the steppe where he lost his steed again is highlighted by the brilliance of a sunset. Occasionally the poet contrasts lighting with mood: "Princess Mary " begins with a description of wondrous nature, concluding with the question: "Z achem tut strasti, zhelanija, sozhalenija?...". When Pechorin goes to the duel to kill Grushnitsky, a magnificent description of the morning is given. In the poem "I Step Out Onto the Road Alone" (Vykhozhu odin ja na dorogu) the solemn ha rmony of nature is set against the inner alarm of the poet. Contrasted to the b loody battle around Valerik is a majestic picture of mountains, leading to the f amous question: Zhalkij chelovek! Chego on khochet?... Lermontov is a symbolist.8 He employs his images, painstakingly developed and frequently repeated, as symbols. In the poems "The Novice" and "The Demon" there are almost no images which were not worked out by the poet in advance; bu t these habitual images have found here a symbolic application. The peaks of th e Caucasus mountains which {the novice} Mtsyri sees constantly {all the time}, f orever alluring, forever unattainable and beautiful, -- are a symbol of an etern ally distant and eternally dear ideal; the Georgian woman, the forest, the snow leopard -- those the obstacles which hold a person back in his striving for the ideal, and on which he expends all his strength; the snake is a symbol of flight less {wingless} sorrow, controlling a person with a sense of powerlessness. "Th e Novice" is primarily a symbolic poem, but features of symbolism are also encou ntered in "The Demon"; stars here symbolize dreams and memories of an unattainab le paradise: the demon recalls following the "konchujushchie karavany v prostran stve broshannikh svetil"; his first sensation after the fall -- these heavenly b odies cease to recognize him, "prezhnego sobrata"; dreams of former happiness fl ow before him, "kak za zvezdoj zvezda"; to Tamara he speaks of stars and shines before her "tikho, kak zvezda". But these two poems, so characteristic of Lermontovian style, are already a culmination of that exotic manner which the poet adopted for himself, and to w hich, evidently, he did not intend to return. At least, along with this manner two other styles were developed: the folk and realistic-satire. Lermontov, as we know, was very interested in folk poetry. Attempts at wr iting in folk style are encountered in his work very seldom. Of the the most su ccessful is "{the, a} Song" (Pesnja) ("Chto v pole da pyl' pylit...", 1830). In this same spirit is written "****" (Pesn' Ingelota), from the poem "****" (Posl ednyj syn vol'nosti, 1830); "Ataman" (1831); and "{Will}" (Volja, 1831). The cu lmination of these attempts is the famous "Song of Tsar Ivan Vasil'evich" (Pesnj a pro tsarja Ivana Vasil'evicha). However skillfully it may be done, its form c ould not be productive: Lermontov created nothing else like it and would not hav e done so had he lived. But fascination with folk style was an essential stage in Lermontov's creative work: this folk character served as a counterweight to t

he exoticism of his Caucasian poems. The sincerity of the folk spirit allowed h im to draw the Russian figure of Maksim Maksimovich in great detail against the backdrop of the Caucasus and to enrich his own language with a native folk eleme nt. Lermontov's sketch "Borodin's Field" (Pole Borodina) is still devoid of thi s element; here there are such expressions as: "brat, slushaj pesnju nepogody, o na dika, kak pesn' svobody!" "Dusha ot mshchenija trjaslasja". Compare to this artificial speech the Russian speech of the definitive version of "Borodino": Postoj-ka, brat mus'ju! Chto tut khitrit'? Pozhaluj k boju! Uzh my pojdem lomit' stenoju! Uzh postoim my golovoju Za podinu svoju! The poems " Two Giants" (Dva velikana), "Testament" (Zaveshchenie), "The S ea Princess" (Morskaja tsarevna), and others are written in this same Russian st yle. Lermontov's third style is the realistic-satirical style, which was develo ped in parallel to the first two. His epigrams, jokes, not quite proper poems o f a guard sub-lieutenant, were experiments in this vein. This style demanded no t a labor of imagination, but rather keeness of observation and wit. Both the e xotic style his teacher, in large part, was Byron, in realistic-satiric -- Pushk in. And so he wrote "****" (Onegina razmerom) and "The Treasurer's wife" (Kazna chejsha). This work is more interesting as an experiment; its style is not enti rely under control {mature} -- we still encounter romantic and exotic images (li nes 41-42); but here there is an entire array of stylistic turns of speech, pain ting in a few words realistic images. Who does no remember such expressions as: "ves' sprjatan v galstuk, frak do pjatdiskant, usy i mutnyj vzgljad", "vremen n ovejshikh Mitrofan", "ideal devits, odno iz slavnykh russkikh lits", which bear witness to great powers of observation. This style is yet another of Lermontov's achievements, one which he utiliz es, but on which he does not dwell. From such elements a singular Lermontovian style was created in which he w rote at the end of his short life. The extreme imagery {graphic nature} of exot icism was counterbalanced by the simplicity and aptness of realism and was spice {flavored} with a folk element. As a result there emerged that engaging, highl y artistic {lit: high art} simplicity which distinguishes Lermontov's later work s "Valerik" and "Fairy Tale for Children". This style is so ideally simple that it could seem prosaic if it were not so full of feeling: Vo-pervykh, potomu, chto mnogo I dolgo, dolgo vas ljubil... This "vo-pervykh potomu" is quite prosaic, but the strength of feelings in the future expiates the prosaicism which in turn becomes touching. Here the po et has already reached full maturity of style and could write without resorting to figures and tropes and without fearing prosaicisms. A classical style was de veloped {he developed classical style}, the best in Russian literature. Compare d to him, Pushkin is archaic, Turgenev prosaic, Tolstoy and Dostoevsky heavy, an d Gogol irregular {incorrect, improper - nepravil'nyj}. Lermontov consciously strived towards this simplicity and even during Push kin's life progressed beyond him. He almost entirely drove out of his language mythology {drove mythology out...}, and we will find in his works neither muses, nor Apollos, nor lyres, which sound so out of place in the civilian verse of Ne krasov. In his {Lermontov's} work you will encounter neither sej, nor onyj, nor any archaisms which are so prevalent in Baratynskij. He himself implemented hi s precept:

Kogda zhe na Rusi bezplodnoj, Rasstavshis' s lozhnoj mishuroj, Mysl' obretet jazyk prostoj. I strasti -- golos blagorodnyj? The simple language of thought and the noble voice of passions make Lermon tov's prose incomparable and unsurpassed to this day. Truncated adjectives beca me impossible in Russian poetry since the time of Lermontov {short form adjectiv es have become...}: he eliminated them without a trace. Of course, if we look { peek, peer} into Lermontov's sketches, it is possible to find many language irre gularities {irreg. of language}, but if we look at the results then we have to a cknowledge his language to be most proper (without picking on the verse "Iz plat ja i sveta") and precise, regardless of the fact that the steps of his Neva pala ces are swimming in foam {revel in suds, lather}9. A specialist in grammar may find in Lermontov many deviations in usage of forms, but a non-specialist will g ain only an impression of living human speech. III. Metrics. The sound aspect {aural side} of Lermontov's language displays in the fi rst creative stage a tendency towards period10 speech, which forms the basis of his verse. "When the Yellowing Fields Billow" (Kogda volnujetsja zheltejushchaj a niva)11, in the second {stage} -- a tendency towards disjointed {staccato, une ven} speech in which "Valerik" is written. He powerfully yet moderately employs onomatopoeia and alliteration ("Rusalka plyla po reke goluboj, ozarjaema polnoj lunoj, i staralas' ona doplesnut' do luny serebristuju penu volny...", "Volna n a volnu nabegala, volna pogonjala volnu", etc.). His metrics are far richer tha n those of Pushkin. To iambic tetrameter, borrowed from Pushkin, he imparted a remarkable flexibility: he sometimes uses it to express a light of heavy tempo { pace}, very intricately arranging caesurae: Spinoju k derevu, lezhat' Ikh kapitan. On umiral; V grudi ego edva cherneli Dve ranki; krov' ego chut'-chut' Sochilas'; no vysoko grud' I trudno podymalas'; vzory Brodili strashno. On sheptal: "Spasite brattsi! Tashch v gory... Postojte! Gde zhe general?... Ne slyshu"... Dolgo on stonal, No vse slabej i ponemnogu Zatikh -- i dushu otdal Bogu... Caesurae in various parts of the poem break it into sections, forcing the end of one line to be pronounced together with the beginning of the next: whatev er is lost in the musicality of the verse is gained in expressivity: emphasized words, for example, expecially powerfully convey the dying man's heaviness of br eath. But when music is necessary, Lermontov supplies it, placing caesurae in c ertain places, most frequently on the second foot, as, for example, in many part s of "The Novice" and "The Demon". Lermontov also utilizes iambic pentameter di fferently than Pushkin. On the one hand, he does not strictly adhere to a caesu ra on the second foot like Pushkin in the beginning of his literary activity {ca reer}; on the other hand, he does not allow a caesura on an unstressed third foo r, as Pushkin did in "Little House in Kolomna" (Domik v Kolomne): for Lermontov such a verse is not possible: Ved' rifmy zaprosto so mnoj zhivum...

If there is no caesura at the second foot, Lermontov does not permit lack of accent on the third: A on ne dozhdalsja minuty sladkoj... From this the meter only gains: the cited line by Pushkin is heavy owing t o the lack of stress on the third foot while a caesura is absent on the second. Iambic hexameter is, in fact, quite rare in Lermontov: he does not like classic al meters. In four-line verse {quatrain} he likes to correctly alternate long i ambic lines with short: iambic hexameter is combined with tetrameter ("Poet", "D on't Trust Yourself" (Ne ver' sebe)), pentameter with triameter ("****" (Nastane t den' i mirom osuzhdennyj), "****" (Opjat', opjat' ja videl vzor tvoj malyj)) t etrameter with triameter ("****" (Kak nebesa, tvoj vzor blistaet), "****" (U nog drugikh ne zabyval)), tetrameter with bi-meter ("A Dead Man's Love" (Ljubov' me rtvetsa)). Trochaic tetrameter, humorous and lively in Pushkin's work, takes on stren gth and energetic directness in Lermontov ("Gifts of the Terek" (Dary Tereka)); his trochaic trimeter is very musical ("Mountain Peaks {heights}" (Gornye vershi ni)), and the pentameter ("The Cliff" (Utes'), "I Step Out Onto the Road Alone") , which is not found in Pushkin (trochaic hexameter is not to be found in Pushki n or Lermontov; it is encountered in Zhukovsky). Trochaic tetrameter sometimes regularly alternates with trimeter ("The Debate" (Spor), "****" (Kolybel'naja pe snja)), and pentameter with trimeter ("Sounds" (Zvuki)). Only once trying his hand hexameter, Lermontov often employed dactyl, whic h was not utilized at all by Pushkin. Dactyl is dangerous since skandovka {tri ckery, khitrosti} is so immediately {directly} felt; Lermontov avoided this by a ssimilating to dactyl the unstressed feet {by assimilating the unstressed feet t o dactyl}: Okruzhi schastiem schast'ja dostojnuju... The first foot should not be read as okruzhi -- this disrupts the rhythym -- it also should not be read okruzhi -- this is incorrect (native speakers cons ider it incorrect; no one says that); the stress must concealed and the line rea d like so: U U U - U U - U U - U U

The same applies to the first, second, fifth, sixth and seventh verse of L ermontov's "Prayer" (Molitva). Even Lermontov's dactylic tetrameter turns into tonic verse with two rises {**povyshenija?}. Ja, Mater' Bozhija nyne s molitvoju Pred tvoim obrazom jarkim sijaniem, He o spasenii ne pered bitvoju, He s blagorodnot'ju il' pokajaniem... "Clouds" (Tuchi) is written in this same meter , dactylic tetrameter with truncated ending is encountered in the poem "A Captive Knight" (Plennyj rytsar') . Lermontov employed amphibrach more widely -- pentameter ("{The} Oak Leaf" (Dubovoj listok)), tetrameter ("Three Palms"), trimeter ("The Ghost Ship" (Vozdu shnyj korabl'), "Tamara"), bimeter ("****" (Est' zvuki -- znachen'e). Moreover, he combines amphibrachic pentameter with trimeter ("It is Dull and Dreary" (I s kuchno, i grustno))12, tetrameter with trimeter ("Angel", "Pine {Tree}" (Sosna)) , bimeter with trimeter ("To M.A. Shcherbatovoj" (Na svetskie tsepi)). Anapest is in fact encountered seldom ("My Neighbour" (Sosedka), "****" (M

ne ljubit' do mogily tvortsom suzhdeno)). When anapest is encountered in combination with amphibrach a nervousness i s imparted to the poem: Rusalka plyla po reke goluboj, Ozarjaema polnoj lunoj... ................................................ I pela rusalka, i zvuk ee slov Doletal do krutykh beregov. ................................................. Na zapad, na zapad umchalsja by ja, Gde tsvetut moikh predkov polja... This poem {form, structure -- stikh}, which died with Lermontov, was only revived by the modernists. Finally, to Lermontov belongs the credit for masteri ng a type of Russian verse which could be called anapestal - iambic trimeter. T his type of verse is quite customary in German poetry -- the majority of Heine's songs are written in it, but Russian translators before A. Blok and Sasha Chern yi did not use this meter, replacing it with iambic tetrameter, amphibrach, and dactyl. Here is this meter from Lermontov: Na burke pod ten'ju chinary Lezhal Akhmed Ibragim, I ruki skrestivshi tatary Stojali molcha pred nim. U U U U U U U U U U U U U U U U U U U U

At the present time A. Blok has employed this meter with success. Lermontov's rhymes are by nature very diverse. He is a lover {enthusiast} of masculine rhymes, which are especially numerous in his work. Perhaps from B yron, through Zhukovsky, he borrowed this daggerlike iambic tetrameter with excl usiverly masculine rhymes, in which the poem "The Novice" is written (Pushkin al ways diligently observed the alternation of masculine and feminine rhymes).13 B elinsky compared this kind of rhyme in Zhukovsky to the blows of a sword; but wh at if we compare Lermontov's verse with its masculine rhymes and abrupt caesurae ! Not limiting himself to two assonances, Lermontov imparts to it a persistence by placing three, four, even five in a row: I vzorom lastochek sledil, Kogda oni pered dozhdem Bolny kasalis' krylom... I vspomnil ja nash mirnyj dom I pred vechernim ochagom Rasskazy dolgie o tom, Kak zhili ljudi proshlykh dnej, Kogda byl mir eshche pyshnej! Lermontov attempted also to write in iambic pentameter with exclusively ma sculine rhymes, in the English manner {English style}, but it didn't catch on: i n Russian long poems are not suitable for this sort of rhyme ("Julio"). Moreove r, Lermontov {was the} first, after the timid attempts of Dezhavin, Zhukovsky, R yleev and Poltaev, 14 brought recognition to dactyl rhymes. Exclusively in dact yl rhymes his poems "Clouds", "A Prayer" (Ja mater' Bozhija) and "Countess Emili a" (Grafina Emilia) are written; in alternation with masculine -- "At a Difficul

t Minute of Life" (V minutu zhizni trudnuju) and "The Meeting" (svidanie). Of m asculine rhymes Lermontov, by his own admission, especially loves vowel {assonan t} , i.e., ending in ju, ja, jo, 'i; in feminine he utilizes complex rhymes: tsv eli my -- palimy, demon -- sovsem on, nikogo net -- progonit, dlja chego ty -- z abyty. Lermontov does not like white {blank} verse -- for that he is too musica l. Lermontov did not like to constrain himself to stanza. He did not share P ushkin's view: Kak veselo stikhi svoi vesti Pod tsiframi, v porjadke, stroj za stroem... Lermontov has only a single sonnet, he made use of Onegin stanza twice ("T he Treasurer's Wife" and "The Sailor"), there are just a few octaves, and he inv ented his own stanza for "Sashka" and "Story for Children"; it is not particular ly complex: ABABACCDDEE. Primarily he makes use of quatrain: ABAB. Lermontov, as well, mastered {assimilated} folk verse, and made some attem pts to bring it closer to literary verse and to regularize its rhymes ("Ataman" and "Will" (Volja)). But so far these efforts have not lead to anything signifi cant. Such a wealth of meters and rhythyms in Lermontov's work make him the most musical Russian poet before Balmont. In this regard he has only a single prede cessor -- Zhukovsky, and no near descendants. He stands alone in the history of Russian poetry.15 Judging by his sketches, we could have expected from him a s till greater development of rhythmic language, but here only his achievements ha ve been brought to attention. Extremely capricious is the meter in the only poe m without rhymes by Lermontov: "Speak With Your Voice to Me" (Slyshu li golos tv oj). IV. Forms. The most musical of Russian versifiers is Lermontov -- our greatest lyric poet -- and thus he remains. On the one hand, he may be surpassed amidst the la test conquests {achievements} of poetic technique, but on the other hand he is u nsurpassed, whatever poetic genius may happen to appear: the time of pure lyrici sm -- this is a product of the romantic era -- has passed. Not every writer of short poems is a {lyric} poet by nature. A poet is one who remains a poet, what ever subject he may choose, and in whatever form he may express it. Lermontov i s just such a poet and the form of his works is determined by this attribute {ch aracteristic -- priznak}. In the field of drama, for instance, he did not ventu re beyond experiments. Lermontov's teachers in drama are Shakespeare, Schiller, and Griboedov. I n his experiments he broke with all traditions of classicism, but did not fall i nto the extremes of romanticism. The lyricism of his spirit hindered {impeded} his creating an original drama. In his dramas it is obvious that the author is interested in one main character, the remaining characters being pale reflection s {attributed}of the main character and leading independent lives. Even if Lerm ontov sometimes succeeds in reproducing the milieu in which his dramatic heroes operate {act}, it is obvious that this milieu is not necessary to the poet, or t hat he is using it as an antithesis. In the drama "Two Brothers" (Dva brata) -there is no milieu {a milieu is lacking}, in the drama "Spaniards" (Ispantsi) - inquisition, fanaticism, and clericalism serve only as an antithesis to Fernan do's free spirit; in the drama "The Masquerade" (Maskarad) -- the milieu does no thing at all to clarify or define Arbenin's complex inner life. Why Chatsky's i nner life is more difficult {complex} than the life of his milieu is understanda ble; why Arbenin is more complex than Zuezdich is incomprehensible. The milieu

is practically unnecessary for Lermontov, and in his novel it was no accident th at he portrayed Pechorin in an exotic setting. Dialogue in Lermontov is uninter esting precisely because his monologue is so very interesting: his heroes very m uch {greatly} love to confess their sins, and this spoils drama, even more so wh en second-level {secondary} characters often read long lines of the main charact er. In Lermontov's dramas there is no sermonizing but rather a balanced lyricis m. Symbolism and impressionism, so bright in Lermontov's epos and lyric poetry is not applied to drama. The point of departure is weak; the whole drama often unravels because of chance intrigue, sufficient for comedy, but insufficient for drama. Severe with himself in all respects, Lermontov is not severe with himse lf as a playwright: he strove {without success} to have his "Masquerade" produce d theatrically {for the stage}. All of this forces us to have doubts about Lerm ontov as a playwright: it is unlikely he would have made a good playwright... But let us {we will} not speak of what he may or may not have been, but in stead about what he was. Classification of his lyrical poetry according to {pre }determined genres proves difficult. In the usual genres of lyrical poetry he i s poorly represented in the ode and satire, and there are no druzheskij {comrade ry, friendship} or drinking songs; the remaining types of lyrical poetry are so mixed that any sort of subdivisions are superfluous: one poem in and of itself i s simultaneously a song, a romance, a ballad, an elegy, often a satire, an antho logical play, and a message. We may only note that in some poems he expresses h imself directly, while in others -- indirectly (with the aid of symbols and alle gory), and in still others -- accidentally, in a manner of speaking. Such a subdivision is important in the respect that Le rmontov is able t write a lyrical poem {play} in its essence, without {,for inst ance,} once using the pronoun "I", or speaking in third person or supplying a pi cture or story. Lermontov created a special genre of lyrical poems which have t he form of a narrative, but which in no way can be placed amongst his epic works : who would call epic such poems as "Angel", "The Cliff" (Utes'), "Oak Leaf", "G ifts of the Terek"? Although they are narrative, their objective is non-narrati ve, they represent the quintessence of lyrical feeling. And such are Lermontov' s ballads ("The Ghost Ship", "The Sea Princess"), which must be placed among his lyrical works. In such works the lyrical feeling is expressed indirectly, alth ough with no less strength. Poems of the first category, i.e., those in which the poet expresses himse lf directly, without the aid of symbols and allegory, include, first, those work s where the poet establishes his relationship to God, infinity, nature, people, life and death. "Prayer", "Thanksgiving" (Blagodarnost'), "When the Yellowing F ields Billow", "First of January", "So Many Are Speeches" (Est' rechi -- znachen 'e), "I step Out Onto the Road Alone", "It is Dull and Dreary" -- are main repre sentatives of this genre. The poet expresses his philosophy so graphically and emotionally {with such imagery and emotion) that it does not weaken his poetry. The deep emotion of prayer and bitterness of gratitude characterize the {his} r elationship to God, nature evokes in the poet feelings of lucid tranquility, peo ple -- feelings of bitterness and malice, he regards himself with visionary {dre amlike} hopelessness, with inspired ecstasy he listens to {heeds} the sounds of eternity before which his life seems to him so meaningless {insignificant}. A t ypical feature of this category of poems is its imagery. Secondly, the first category includes works in which the poet expresses hi s relationship to the present {modernity} -- to political events, to people and society, to literature, and to personal poetic activity: "****" (Poslednee novos el'e), "****"(Otchizna), "Meditation", "Death of a Poet", "The Poet", "Don't Tru st Yourself", "The Journalist, the Reader and the Writer". Here the images are fewer, this is a poetry of thought, but impassioned thought, turning into emotio n, and thus poetic. These sorts of poems by Lermontov usually begin with reason ing, sometimes cold, but end in a burst of indignant feeling. Thus, "Meditation " ends in inspired prophecy, "Poet" in an appeal: "prosneshsja l' ty opjat', os mejannyj prorok?" (Will you wake again, ridiculed {scorned} prophet?), "Otchizna " in a hymn to that motherland {homeland, native land} which in the first verses

admits being unworthy of love. The third division of the first category is composed of love poems. {Love poems comprise the third division of the first category.) Their typical feature is emotionality. The majority of them are written in such a fashion that some sort of complex love drama experienced by the poet must be presumed. This type of lyric poetry, which requires great daring and tact was created, actually, by Byron: the poem does not have the aim of relating all the vicissitudes of a nove l which counts the {passing} years; it conveys only one moment, one detail in a long chain of experiences {tribulations}, but does this in such a way that the r eader must imagine an entire life of sufferings and passions. The charm of this genre of poems lies in the mystery in which they {the poems} are shrouded accor ding to their own character {nature}, and the difficulty of this creative genre lies in imparting {attaching} significance and interest to a particular scene, a nd not falling into indiscretion, singling out a particular detail of one's own intimate life. Lermontov's brilliant experiment in this genre is "To a child" ( Rebenku). From the words Nepravda l', govorjat, Ty na nee pokhozh? the reader begins to realize that the poet is om he once loved and who married another man. her his mother has taught him to say a prayer e him to forget the name, we begin to imagine ps... The poem ends in this way: addressing the child of a woman wh When the poet asks the child whet for one, and then tries to persuad {presume} more complex relationshi

Chto imja? Zvuk pustoj! Daj Bog, chtob dlja tebja ono ostalos' tajnoj! No esli kak-nibud' kogda-nibud' sluchajno Uznaesh' ty ego, mladencheskie dni Ty vspomni i ego, ditja, ne prokljani!... These words presuppose some sort of complex, difficult drama in the past. It remains unexposed, intriguing the reader and imparting to the poem a particu lar depth which beautifully justifies {explains} the tenderness the poet showed toward the child in the beginning of the poem, and without which this motivation might seem sentimental. In the same genre are written "The Agreement" (Dogovor ), "A Plea" (Opravdanie), "To * (We Are Parting Forever)" (Prosti, my ne vstreti msja bole), "We Parted" (Rasstalis' my), and, finally, the marvelous and incompa rable "{a, the} Dream" (Son). Other love poems of Lermontov are imbued with fleeting impressions and thu s anticipate modernistic lyric poetry but differing from it favorably in terms o f depth of feeling and thought; these are -- "A Half Mask on Your Face, Mysterio us and Teasing" (Iz-pod tajnstvennoj kholodnoj polumaski), "No, 'Tis not You For Whom I Am Aflame " (Net, ne tebja tak pylko ja ljublju), "Wherefore" (Otchego), "Speak With Your Voice To Me" (Slyshu li golos tvoj), "She Sings: Each Sound I Hear Her Singing" (Ona poet, - i zvuki tajut), and others. The brevity of these works is reminiscent of Heine. The second category includes works in which Lermontov, for the expression of his lyrical feeling {?}, makes use of symbolic images and allegories, occasio nally imparting to the poem an epic form. In the process {in so doing}, the sec ond category more than once becomes an addition to the first. Thus, the poem "I Step Out Onto the Road Alone" concludes with the image of the blissful and inde fferent dream of a person tired of life; in the poem "Rusalka" it is exactly thi s sort of dream that the warrior {hero} of the other side dreams, but not in the shade of an oak, but rather in the shade of reeds where he also hears a song "o

f love", but towards impressioned kisses he remains cold and mute {silent}. The poem "A Half Mask on Your Face, Mysterious and Teasing" is illustrated with ima ges of a cliff weeping about a cloud and pines dreaming about a palm tree; "It I s Dull and Dreary" is illustrated and supplemented by "Angel" and others. The p oet reincarnates {himself} several times as a prisoner in order to express his f eeling of hopeless thirst for life ("The Prisoner" (Uznik), "A Captive Knight" ( Plennyj rytsar'), "The Neighbour" (Sosed), "My Neighbour" (Sosedka)), he portray s his love as the love of a dead man for a living woman, his craving for storms is embodied in a sail, his loneliness and isolation in the branch of Palestine, in clouds, and in a dying war hero ("Testament" (Zaveshchanie)); his strength an d loyalty -- in a dagger; his passion, in the hero of "The Meeting". Sometimes painting the image is too little for him, it is necessary for him to relate it, -- and so he tells of the three palms, the purpose of which the ungrateful peopl e could not guess, about the Terek thirsting for "freedom and peace", but indiff erent to feminine beauty, about the oak leaf torn from its own branch and not ac cepted by the proud Oriental plane tree, about the prophet unrecognized by the c rowd, about Napoleon deceived by dear France, about Tamara, forever consumed wit h insatiable passion... Lermontov adopted the form of lyrical allegory from Hei ne, having translated "The Pine" (Sosna); but in this genre of Heine's there is only one other poem -- "Lotus" (Lotos); Lermontov not only assimilated this form , but also developed it quite extensively: from "The Pine" to "Three Palms" ther e is a distance of major proportions. The charm of these poems lies in their pu re imagery: the poet does not express directly a single thought or {single} feel ing, nor does he give a hint that this all refers {applies} to him; nonetheless, thought and feeling in these images speak very loudly. Any kind of hint given on behalf of the poet, any sort of explanation {clarification} or remark would s poil {ruin} everything; but there is nothing superfluous in "Three Palms", in "G ifts of the Terek" or in "Oak Leaf". The form endured perfectly. The third category includes random {accidental, chance} poems, those writt en for various reasons. Rejecting {having rejected} the ponderous form of messa ges, Lermontov preferred a form of deeply emotional madrigals in his address to individuals ("Smirnova", "Solomirskaja"), random {chance, accidental} confession s ("Rostopchinaja"), portraits ("To a Portrait" (K portretu), "Princess M. Shche rbatova" (Kn. M. Shcherbatova)), jokes, sometimes biting {ascerbic, malicious}, sometimes sweet. In magnificent albums, which Pushkin so feared, Lermontov rema ined {true to} himself: instead of compliments he left the most heartfelt {since re} pearls {gems} of his poetry, instead of casually {carelessly} graceful silho uettes he painted bright and true images. The crown of this highly refined poet ry is one of the most original and elegant of Lermontov's poems "To M.A. Shcherb atova" (Na svetskie tsepi). Here a comparison of a woman with nature and the pe ople of her native land is carried out in succession. Furthermore, this woman i s a symbol, typical in Lermontov, a symbol of a being delivered from another wor ld who remembers the "sounds of the heavens" (zvuki nebes): Na svetskie tsepi, Na blesk upoitel'nyj bala Tsvetushchie stepi Ukraini ona promenjala. No juga rodnogo Na nej sokhranilis' primeti Sredi ledjanogo, Sredi bezposhchadnogo sveta. This category also includes such poems as "Death of a Poet" and "In Memory of A.I. Odoevskogo". In the realm of "epos", Lermontov started from the Byronic lyro-epic poem. This form much more well suited {much better suited} his lyric mood and exotic language. The setting of Lermontov's poems, for the most part, is the Caucasus ; numerous descriptions of nature; strong male and female characters; usual is t he confession form; lyrical digressions. The poet achieved this artistic perfec

tion in two poems of this genre -- "The Novice" and "The Demon". The first is v irtually all phrased in the form of a confession. Even though poems of this sor t were nothing new in Russian literature after Pushkin and Kozlov, Lermontov saw it through to such perfection that there was nowhere further to go: after Lermo ntov this form vanishes. The new features introduced by Lermontov into this for m have already in part been noted above: these are impressionism, arising from l ight effects, which, for example, did not play a large role in Pushkin, and symb olism, attained through the skillful use of habitual images. Finally, into this form of poetry Lermontov introduced psychologism. Sometimes in lermontov psych ology arises before physiology; in the romantic poem he never forgets to mention the torments of hunger, thirst, and fatigue. The madness {rage, fury} of the n ovice, who became lost in a forest, is motivated in part by hunger. When he ret urns to the hateful monastery, he does not at first want to accept the horrible {awful, terrible} reality: Ponjat' Ne mog ja dolgo, chto opjat' Vernulsja ja k tjurme svoej. But the "distant toll of the bell" (dal'nij kolokola zvon) dispels all his doubts. Natural associations occur: all of those images arise which more than once "chased from child eyes" this ringing {which the bell more than once...}. It sounds like so {thus}: budto kto-nibud' Zhelezom udarjal mne v grud'. But mighty nature blames not circumstance, but itself: Da, zasluzhil ja zhrebij moj! Moguchij kon', v stepi chuzhoj Plokhogo sbrosiv sedoka, Na rodinu izdaleka Najdet prjamoj i kratkij put'... Chto ja pred nim? After these self-accusations comes a morbid apathy, a sensation of heat an d silence inimitably conveyed in chapter XXII, and in chapter XXIII illness and delirium are depicted. Similarly to Byron and to Pushkin, Lermontov moved from the exotic poem to the realist-satiric. His first experiment in this genre was "The Treasurer's W ife", a humorous poem in stanza with lyrical digressions. It proto-images are B yron's "Beppo" and Pushkin's "Count Nulin" (Graf Nulin) and "Little House in Kol omna" (Domik v Kolomne). However, "The Treasurer's Wife" is closer in structure to "Beppo". Instead of the Venetian carnival there is the appearance of the Ulan regim ent in Tambov; instead of the merchant Beppo there is "a provincial old treasure r" (uezdnyj staryj kaznachej); instead of Beppo's coquettish {flirtatious} wife there is the beautiful kaznachejsha; in place of the count "vice-husband" (vits' -muzh) there is the calvary {head} captain Garin, "ideal of the wenches, a glori ous Russian face {character, personality}" (ideal devits, odno iz slavnykh russk ikh lits). The unexpectedly simple denouement, by the poet's design, is destine d to disappoint {disillusion} the reader. The conclusions of Byron's, Pushkin's , and Lermontov's poems are in this regard; Byron: My pen is at the bottom of a page, Which being finished, here the story ends, 'Tis to wish'd it had been sooner done,

But stories somehow lengthen when begun. Pushkin: Kak! Pazve vse tut? Shutite! -- "Ej-Bogu". .................................................................... .. Bol'she nichego Ne vyzhmesh' iz razskaza moego. Lermontov: I vot konets pechal'noj byli, Il' skazki -- vyrazit' prjamej. Priznajtes', vy menja branili? Vy zhdali dejstvija, strastej? Povsjudu nynche ishchut dramy, Vse prosjat' krovi, dazhe damy. A ja, Kak robkij uchenik, Ostanovilsja v luchshij mig; Prostym nervecheskim pripadkom Nelovko stsenu zakljuchil, Sopernikov ne pomiril I ne possoril ikh porjadkom. Chto zhe delat'?... Vot vam moj razskaz, Druz'ja, -- pokamest budet s vas! Continuing the evolution of Byron, Lermontov moved from the small satiric poem-joke {humorous poem} to the large realist-satiric epos. That which for Byr on was "Don Juan", for Pushkin "Eugene Onegin", for Lermontov was to become the poem "Sashka". In this poem a broader picture of life was developed; the hero o f the poem, Sashka, as a character {personality} stands in the same sort of rela tionship to Lermontov as Don Juan to Byron: all that is tragic and violent {heav y, intense, severe, powerful}, formerly in the poet's personality, is removed fr om the personality of his hero; nevertheless, the poet treats him with love {lov ingly} and condescendingly recounts not only his amorous adventures but others a s well, giving the author cause for diverse thoughts and observations, at the ba se of which, however, lies a serious ideology. But Lermontov worked on this poem relatively little. In the very same met er he began to write another, of which only a few stanzas remain: this is "Fairy Story for Children". In it Lermontov liberates himself from the cliches {stere otypes} of Byronic poems, avoiding lyric digressions, and leaving behind both ex oticism and satire. Perhaps the poet would have given Russian literature a nove l in verse updated from "Onegin", both in terms of form as well as content? But in all of the indicated poetic genres Lermontov could not be completel y original -- their creator was Byron. In the degree of objectivization {object ivity, objectification, ... ob'ektivatsii} of his awareness {consciousness}, our poet departed from the subjective forms of the Byronic epos. In the poem "Vale rik" we observe this process: lyric feeling, now depleted, takes on {acquires} a fatalistic hue and dissolves in a broad epic painting. "Valerik" is a story in verse, moreover a military story, anticipating these very types of stories in p rose by L. Tolstoy. Together with it the poem "Borodino" may be included. This is not a ballad, there is nothing mysterious nor lyrical, it is instead a succi nct yet broad epic painting with an in-depth penetration into the psychology of an environment foreign to the poet. The poet also began a historical epic poem, in hexameters (dactylic hexame ter with trochaic endings) , about the early days of Christianity. In a number of lines written by him we see a complete freedom from classical models. The he

xameters are employed for the depiction of a domain {sphere, realm} foreign to t hem; but with their pomposity {self-importance} they attenuate the mysteriously lofty, which the poet began to depict. Standing by itself {apart} is "The Song of the Merchant Kalashnikov", endu ring in the spirit of folk "historical" songs, and which constitutes nothing oth er than an experiment, albeit an experiment of genius. This form of Lermontov's presaged nothing for the future. This "song" is a remarkable creation of art a nd artificiality {artistry -- iskustvennost'}. But the manner of a stylizer is not becoming to Lermontov. For a novel depicting the everyday life of the Pugachev era the poet lacke d colors; for a modern novel of everyday life, fortitude {composure, self-contro l} was long lacking. The very same thing was done with the novel "Princess Ligo vskaja" (Knjaginja Ligovskaja) as with the drama "The Masquerade": being more in terested in the personality of the hero than with his surroundings {milieu, envi ronment}, Lermontov was unable to organically merge these two elements of his no vel: the surroundings {milieu} interfered with the hero, and the hero hindered t he depiction of the surroundings. Thus the novel was deadlocked; the author bec ame entangle in two starting points -- one amorous, the other social (the confli ct with the official) -- which were not contiguous with each other. Social prob lems were of interest to Lermontov; but for this it would have been essential to closely scrutinize a way of life, and besides the poet was too lyrical by natur e. In "Hero of Our Time" he frees Pechorin from everyday existence, placing him in an exotic setting and delved into psychology, giving, instead of a novel, se veral independent tales united by the personality of a single hero. The novel " Hero of Our Time" is by form not a novel by carries the significance of a psycho logical novel; the author himself, as is evident from the title and preface, att ached to his work a social meaning; and so was it understood by the critics. Th e social significance of "Hero of Our Time" is not subject to doubt; however, in form it is not a social novel. The form of the social novel was supplied by Pu shkin and developed by Turgenev; Lermontov's work has nothing common with theirs -- precisely because Lermontov depicts his hero outside of those social conditi ons which produced him and with which he dealt. Owing to such isolation, "Hero of Our Time" for a foreigner or a descendant {foreign readers or later generatio ns} will retain only a psychological interest. The author rejected the surround ings (milieu) and takes an interest in the hero, placing him in various situatio ns before the reader. For freedom of observation he is not constrained by consi stency and chronology. The novel (we shall retain this name {label}) lets us fi rst hear about the hero ("Bela"), then gives us a look at him ("Maksim Maksimovi ch"), and finally his diary is revealed before us. But this is contrary to the chronology. Pechorin's journal was completed by him in Maksim Maksimovich's for tress and left there; consequently, everything that was described {everything de scribed} in Pechorin's journal took place earlier than or simultaneously with Be la's story. It is unclear, though, when {while} Pechorin lived in the Cossack v illage over a period of two weeks, where he met Vulich; following this episode h e returned to the fortress and talked about him with Maksim Maksimovich: was thi s before the events with Bela of after? In general, it is possible to reconstru ct {establish} the following chronological outline of Pechorin's life: having sp ent a turbulent youth in St. Petersburg, he was transferred to the Caucasus. He traveled through Taman' and Gelendzhik, served somewhere for a time, long enoug h to become accustomed to the sound {buzz, hum} of Chechen bullets and began to devote more attention to {the } mosquitoes, and acquired a Circassian's carriage , which he flaunted {showed off} in Pjatigorsk. But he served for only a short time because Maksim Maksimovich, under whose command he later fell, immediately recognized him as a novice {greenhorn} and he himself answered that he had recen tly been transferred from Russia. After this short service, he arrived in Pjati gorsk where the events occurred with Princess Mary, culminating in the duel with Grushnitsky; because of the duel he was sent to the fortress, where the episode

with Bela took place, and from there he absented himself for two weeks to the C ossack village, where he encountered the fatalist. After this he was transferre d to the E-j {N...} regiment in Georgia; then he visited Petersburg, returned to the Caucasus, set out for Persia, meeting Maksim Maksimovich for the last time on the way and dying in Persia. With such effort the chronology of the novel is established. We will now turn to its parts, which are so loosely joined together. The first story "Bela" is among those types of tales in which the author conveys and event related to him by chance. The author phrases the story in the style of t ravel notes; when, after a series of descriptions of the journey, Maksim Maksimo vich begins his account of Bela, the author does not hesitate in several places to interrupt this account with descriptions, depticting all in the same sort of succession as it actually happened, phrasing evocative between accounts by means of the conditions of the journey {bearing the pauses dictated by the conditions of the journey}. Despite the natural development, noted by Belinsky, of Bela's narrative, despite the fact that the author seasoned it with {some} words and o bservations {remarks, comments} characteristic for Maksim Maksimovich -- Lermont ov did not avoid the danger to which writers who put their account into the mout h of one of their characters are exposed. The account is too artistic {literary --- lit. jazyk} for a staff captain. In one place Lermontov even felt it nece ssary to apologize to the reader for offering Kazbich's song in verse. It is un likely that Pechorin would have begun to confess to Maksim Maksimovich, and it i s even more unlikely that the latter would have memorized a confession word for word which he did not understand. That which is appropriate in a romantic poem of the genre of "The Novice", is risky in a novel. The passage "Maksim Maksimovich" is an essay, not as independent as the ot her parts of the novel. It relies on the foregoing and acts as a basis for the forthcoming. On the other hand, "Taman'" and "Fatalist" represent a clear type of accou nt, as it was understood by Chekhov, who was particularly enchanted with {enthus iastic about} "Taman'". The author here is an observer modestly concealed behin d his characters. Especially in "Taman'", he does not reason, nor offer explana tions, imposing nothing on the reader: he only paints, assuming the reader to be a sufficiently subtle judge. To this sort of artistic {literary} objectivism C hekhov also aspired [strived}. We do not know the past of the smugglers, we do not know their state of affairs; but through a few carefully dropped hints we ou rselves should be able to expand on the picture even though we do not know more than the author, but we see all that he sees. We are granted complete freedom o f relationship with the depicted heroes. "Princess Mary" more closely approximates this type of novel and in form i s reminiscent of Goethe's "Verter": in both instances there is a diary beginning with a description of nature into which both heroes withdrew, leaving society b ehind; both novels close by means of their connection to women, albeit in differ ent ways, and both end with an emotional outburst {breakdown}. A particular fea ture and distinction of Lermontov's novel is that it is constructed according to the rules of drama. At the beginning is the exposition: Pechorin examines and studies, with the aid of director Werner, the "water society {society of the spr ings}" (vodjanoe obshchestvo) where is forced to act; next is the {inciting epis ode, complication} (zavjazka): the relationships of Pechorin, Grushnitsky, Vera and Princess Mary become intertwined in a single knot. From the 16th of May the dramatic struggle begins: Pechorin intrigues Princess Mary, makes a fool of Gru shnitsky, once again captivates {conquers} Vera; and next -- the expansion of dr amatic effect: Princess Mary becomes infatuated with Pechorin, Grushnitsky becom es angry, Vera becomes jealous; Grushnitsky concocts a plot against Pechorin, Pe chorin says to Princess Mary, "I don't love you", Vera is in danger -- her relat ionship with Pechorin might be exposed, this is the approach of catastrophe {dis aster}; the catastrophe is the duel: Grushnitsky perishes, glimmerings of hope a re aroused in Princess Mary, Vera gives away her secret to her husband; finally

-- the denoument: Pechorin disposes of Mary, parts with Vera, alienates {antagon izes, pushes aside} Werner, -- and takes his leave. Both the development and de noument, as required by Gogol', gather together into one knot {group} all of the characters -- all are concerned with it. This dramatic interest favorably dist inguishes "Princess Mary" from the tiresome {dull} "Verter" and anticipates the novel-drama of Dostoevsky. The story of Lugin begun by Lermontov is in character a fantasy and carrie s a philosophical interest; and here Lermontov is a precursor of Dostoevsky, as Merezhkovsky has shown. In Lermontov Russian literature lost an ingenious novelist -- psychologist and philosopher. It is unlikely that he would have become a byt writer. This would have b een impeded by his aspiration towards a psychology of personality {characters}. "The story of a human soul, at least the most petty one, is hardly less interes ting and useful than the story of an entire people." (Istorija dushi cheloveches koj, khotja by samoj melkoj dushy, edva li ne ljubopytnee i ne poleznee istorii tselogo naroda) is a significant phrase of Lermontov's. A certain monotony {sam eness} in his charcter types stems from the fact that they overly possess his im agination: it was necessary for him to "get away" from them: he expended great e ffort to get away from the young monk type before he personified {embodied} him in "The Novice"; the demon long held his imagination; he wrote about Pechorin ev en before "Hero of Our Time" and, if we are to believe his preface to Pechorin's journal, he was planning to write more, against which he was cautioned in time by Belinsky, who told him: enough; Arbenin, who became tiresome to us in "The Ma squerade", once again appears in "Passage from a started story" (otryvok iz nach atoj povesti). And the trouble is the novice is similar to the demon, the demon to Pechorin, and Pechorin to Arbenin: actually {in fact} these are all one demo n. Even his ancient Russian people -- tsar, oprichnik, and merchant -- are mark ed with the very same demonic traits. Lermontov's first great feat was Maksim M aksimovich. Once he had Maksim Maksimovich, not only was a poem possible, but also a novel and a story. But before painting him the poet saw him from afar -en masse: he had already portrayed the Russian soldier in "Borodin"; from a dis tance he sees everyday types, paints them masterfully: who can forget the dragoo n captain in "Princess Mary"? Possibly later he would have approached them and peered into their souls in the same way that he peered into the soul of the kind staff captain. His feminine characters are also monotonously romantic; but in his work th ere have already appeard a Cossack mother and an ordinary {mediocre} refined you ng lady {noblemen's daughter}, who knows algebra and has read Byron, whom he tre ated so attentively, and another young lady -- Nina -- the dreamer from "Fairy S tory for Children", and all this anticipated much. Lermontov had difficulty get ting away from character types, likewise away from images, but the brighter they emerged from him, and successfully stepping away from them, he easily found new ones. Towards the end of his life we see in his style a renunciation of exotic i mages, in forms -- of Byronic devices {methods, techniques}, and types -- of rom antic figures. Lermontov's poetics show that he was by far not as monotonous as some thin k. Taking into account the profoundly outrageous {disgraceful} brevity of his l ife, we must acknowledge that in diversity of poetic forms he was hardly inferio r to Pushkin, and decisively surpassed Byron and Heine. And the diversity of fo rms attests to the potential diversity of motifs. 2All titles need checking {Boyar's Orsha?} 3 Underline or italicize achievements vs experiments throughout? 4Fisher: In all instances according to the academic edition. 5Fisher: The end of "Bakhchisarai Fountain" (Bakchisarajskij fontan) a nd the poems "Desire" (Zhelanie), "19th of October" (19 Oktjabrja) 1825, 1831, a nd 1836 respectively. 6{Water foam... word choice -- pena vod}

7{Lermontov -- impressionist. (is an) Lermontov -- symvolist --> sam e problem} 8 Lermontov -- simvolist 9 What's the allusion, idea here? 10 "Period" in a historical sense? or "periodic"? 11 This has also been translated as "When I a Field of Grain the Wheat and Rye Wave Yellow". 12 This has been previously translated as "Oh, Boredom and Sadness" 13Fisher:: With the exception of the poems "****" (Obval'), "Echo", "* ***" (Ne daj mne Bog sojti s uma), "The Black Shawl" (Chernyj shal'). 14 Fisher:: In Pushkin there are no dactyl rhymes whatever. 15 Fisher :: In A. Belyj's investigation of iambic tetrameter there is a major {committed} error relating to Lermontov, taken on faith by the editors of the academic edition and by certain writers on Lermontov -- that Lermontov ha s no verse at all with accelerations on the second and third feet together. Here are some of these lines at random: "konujushchie karavany", "prichud livoe kak mechty", "kurilis' kak altari"... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------