Serena VitaleBesprekingen

Originale nel contenuto quanto nella forma, è un'indagine storica che somiglia a un "giallo" e parla in maniera efficace di poesia. Ottima prova, ottimo risultato.

Negli anni che precedono di poco la Rivoluzione francese dalle terre cecene si leva la predicazione di un misterioso “Sheykh Mansur” (“il Vittorioso”), nuovo profeta-guerriero che chiama alle armi contro i russi, rischiando di mettere a repentaglio la fragile pace tra l’Impero ottomano e quello russo, sconvolgendo l’intero assetto europeo. Nel 1786 circola una voce clamorosa: Mansur sarebbe in realtà un rinnegato di origine piemontese, Giovanni Battista Boetti, vissuto nei territori dell’attuale Iraq come missionario domenicano, poi a Costantinopoli come medico; di lui dal 1781 si è persa ogni traccia. Era lui il “Fanatico”, il profeta di un nuovo Islam puro e combattivo?
Con la tenacia filologica e il gusto della narrazione che la contraddistinguono, Serena Vitale segue tra Europa e Asia le straordinarie storie incrociate dell’italiano e del ceceno facendoci incontrare, come in un libro di avventure, popoli lontani e sconosciuti, antiche leggende, guerrieri, avventurieri, imperatori, diplomatici, spie, impostori, mentre nel racconto si avvicendano amori, battaglie e infiniti colpi di scena.

È il 1967 quando Serena Vitale, all’ultimo anno di università, arriva nella Mosca brezhneviana, in piena Guerra fredda, con una borsa di studio e un incondizionato amore per la cultura russa. Capisce subito che prima di occuparsi di letteratura dovrà imparare a non cadere nelle trappole dell’assurdo quotidiano. E a tenere la bocca chiusa – le orecchie del KGB sono dappertutto – ma gli occhi ben aperti. Offrendoci, attraverso la straordinaria lente della letteratura, uno sguardo acutissimo su ogni figura e ogni parola, schivando le tentazioni della prosa autobiografica e dosando con sapienza i registri dell’ironia e del grottesco, Serena Vitale ci conduce attraverso quarant’anni di storia russa in una galleria di racconti che sono come i movimenti di un’unica sonata: un “romanzo” felicemente inconsueto che restituisce l’immagine viva del mondo sovietico, negli aspetti più paradossali e tragicomici della vita di ogni giorno come in quelli più drammatici dell’ideologia, della cultura, della censura, fino ai giorni nostri, alla generazione dei nuovi ricchi e dei milioni di poveri senza voce

Viktor Borisovich Shklovsky (1893 – 1984) – Influential Russian and Soviet novelist, literary theorist, literary critic and film critic. Shklovsky developed theories and techniques within the movement known as Russian Formalism. If you are unfamiliar with the author, this little book of interviews, Witness to an Era, is an excellent place to start. Scholar Serena Vitale is the interviewer and throughout Viktor Shklovsky reflects on his past, his views of leading Russian authors and his thinking on various topics within the world of art and literature. To share a glimpse of what a reader will encounter, below are a number of direct Shklovsky quotes along with my comments:

“Art derives from the fact that man is marked by contradictions. And in art these contradictions can be resolved more or less favorably, but completely favorably – that’s impossible.” ---------- If anybody is looking for easy answers, they should keep away from art, especially the novel. In a classic novel there is NEVER an easy division between good and evil or right and wrong. It is no accident fundamentalist religion or political dogmatism do not mix well with art and literature.

“The end of Resurrection: the story of Nekhlyudov’s transformation also contains another novel. But that novel was not written. That’s why I say that there are novels with an ending.” ---------- How true, Viktor! “They lived happily ever after” is restricted to fairy tales. When I finish a novel I am nearly always left wondering what will unfold for the characters in the future. Will Nick Dormer remain faithful to his calling as a portrait painter (The Tragic Muse by Henry James)? Will Helene Bang remain in America or return to Denmark (One Fat Englishman by Kingsley Amis)? What happens to Gillette (The Unknown Masterpiece by Honoré de Balzac)? A great novel or tale creates characters that live beyond the last page.

“The conclusion, in the novel, is a cloying additive. It only appears to conclude things.” ---------- I agree. I am not a fan of a novel with an epilogue or afterwards, informing the reader in capsulized form what happens to all the novel’s characters in the years to come. Or when a novelist feels compelled to end with a grand finale. Case in point: Amsterdam by Ian McIewen is a fine novel spoiled by an ending that is both forced and unnatural. Why can’t novelists, including many first-rate novelists, learn a lesson from the Japanese: a novel ending with subtlety and delicacy, restraint and understatement can enhance the entire work.

“I can’t remember anyone – not even Gorky himself, early on, not to mention Mayakovsky, or Blok – I don’t remember any of them ever having secretaries. These new forms of social interaction, in my opinion, are negative.” ------------------ Particularly in our age of computer, where exchanges of correspondence are so simple and direct, I can't see any reason for a literary writer to employ a secretary. Same thing goes for writing a novel or play or essay - much preferable to write the work yourself, from beginning to end.

“I’ve never kept a diary, and I regret it, because, as Pushkin said, the flow of the pen halts at the word that will be red with indifference, with coldness. Everyone who writes a diary always makes himself seem smarter than he is.” ---------- I'm all for keeping a diary. There are many advantages, including how a daily practice of writing will hone your skill as a writer. Curiously, in many ways, writing book reviews regularly is a close cousin to keeping a diary - an excellent way to track your progress as a writer, both in terms of depth of insight and ability to communicate clearly and elegantly.

“Ah, if only people understood that the birth of poetry is itself poetry.” ---------- I enjoy how Shklovsky places the emphasis on the initial inspiration and imaginative flare. If you are a poet, please take Viktor's words to heart: keep writing your poetry and try not to pass harsh judgement on your poems.

“One needn’t be afraid of technology. At one time people were afraid of trains, they thought that the rail traffic was going to cause horrible catastrophes. But people ought to love the future.” ------------------- Words of wisdom coming from a man who lived through much of the turbulence and violence in the 20th century.

“When Tolstoy was alive, with all the respect everyone had for him, they would make up to two thousand edits in one book. And the editor was certainly no idiot. The fact is that Tolstoy wrote in the language of the future, in the language to come. Whereas the editor wasn’t even writing in the language of the present, but the language of the past.” ---------- Ha! A literary artist's vision transcends the boundaries of society and its limitations, including the limitations placed on language.


“You have to store up books, becoming acquainted with human experience; let them lie around your thoughts, becoming yours—ring upon ring, as a tree grows, let them rise up from the depths like coral islands. If it gets crowded with all the books and there's nowhere to put your bed, it's better to exchange it for a folding bed”
― Victor Shklovsky

The title of Serena Vitale’s book “Pushkin’s Button” sounds better in the original Italian “Il bottone di Puskin”. It is a detailed account of the last days of the great Russian writer who was killed in a duel on 27 January 1837 by the unnamable Baron Georges d’ Anthès, (may his name be triply cursed), adoptive son of Baron van Heeckeren, the Dutch ambassador to the Tsar’s court.

The strange title sums up the degree of detail Vitale is willing to go in describing the last months, weeks, days and even hours of Pushkin’s life.
The button, contemporaries remembered, was missing at the back of the writer’s Kamerjunker uniform. Why should this be important? Well for several reasons. The fact that we know that the button was missing, a detail recorded in letters from those days, shows how public a figure Pushkin was, how every mood, dress, word of him was registered, analyzed, discussed by the bored Aristocrats of Saint Petersburg who had nothing else to do then to fill their days with gossip and parties. Some said that the button was missing because Pushkin’s beautiful wife Natalya, instead of looking after her husband preferred to flirt with the despicable Baron Georges d’Anthès (may his name be triply cursed) instead of mending her husband clothes. Others said that it was Pushkin himself who refused to let his coat be repaired because he hated the compulsory dress code and that it was the last sign of resistance he could still show, a symbolic gesture that he did not care about the petty rules, which were forced upon him by Tsar Nicholas and his administration.

Serena Vitale is a professor of Russian language and literature at the university of Pavia.
She got access to the archives of the de Heeckeren family, where she found the correspondence between the old Baron and his adoptive son. Many mysteries still surround the characters and the happenings of that dreadful 27th January and she hoped to find some elucidations in these new sources. One question that remains for instance is the understanding of the relationship between the Baron de Heeckeren and d’Anthès- (may his name be triply cursed). Another question is: was the Tsar involved in the manupulations surrounding Pushkin’s death in order to get to the beautiful Natalya. But most important of all, who wrote the nine anonymous insulting letters to Pushkin, the ones who branded him as a cuckold and which triggered the whole disastrous affair?

Vitale analyzes not only the de Heeckeren correspondence but also the mass of letters, private journals and diaries mentioning Pushkin’s struggle.

Half way in her book the professor explains what she is doing: “In recounting this story, I am far from being an omniscient narrator, and closer to being a patient conservator poring over a mosaic with too many missing tiles, sifting through the few remaining fragments – a handful of letters, brief passages in memoirs, the laconic and often enigmatic notes jotted down by Zhukovsky shortly after the event- in an effort to reconstruct the shape and shading of a picture long faded by time. One is guided by logic and an intimate familiarity with the protagonists hard – earned by long research. Yet doubt often assails one, as it must anyone laboring in good faith”.

I found it surprising how much of that correspondence still exists.

The story, Vitale brings us hangs somewhere between an Academic dissertation and a literary detective story. Unfortunately, for one reason or another, Vitale’s work, as you can see in the quote, is not a fluent read. It is not clear if it is due to the translation or because Vitale remains too much the academic and not enough the storyteller.

It is a pity, for the story, while after all nothing more than a sordid “fait-divers”, “une histoire de cul et de cocu”, with the colorful protagonists, the mysterious intrigue, the dark court manipulations and the many unexplained happenings, make it, if not a gripping page turner, still a fascinating story.

A letter of a woman living in Saint Petersburg, sums up how “l’affaire Pushkin” was perceived in the days before the duel: “It’s a mystery of love, of heroic devotion, it’s Jules Janin, it’s Balzac, it’s Victor Hugo. It’s literature of our time. It’s sublime, it’s ridiculous. A sneering husband (Pushkin) publicly gnashing his teeth. A pale and lovely wife destroying herself with dancing, that lasts entire evenings”.

Poor beautiful Natalya, she was fair game for that magical Mazurka dancer d’ Anthès (may his name be triply cursed). Nor he, nor his adoptive father realized the danger there was to make court to the writer’s wife. They did not care that he became the laughing stock of the Saint Petersburg high society. With their shameful doings, they pushed Pushkin against the wall. Everybody saw it happening, everybody enjoyed the juicy gossip, and nobody intervened when it was still possible. Only when it was too late, did people realize the extent of the drama.½

Bello lo spunto ed originale la storia, ma la narrazione e‘ un po’ troppo accademica e di non scorrevole lettura.

Bello lo spunto ed originale la storia, ma la narrazione e‘ un po’ troppo accademica e di non scorrevole lettura.

I finally had time to devout myself to this book - on a train, with no distractions. While the book is very interesting, the sheer size of the supporting cast means you must have your concentration faculties primed. I had heard of Pushkin, but to be honest knew nothing about him, so this was a fascinating view both in terms of his death and indeed Russian high society at the time.½