§´§à§ä §Ø§Ö §Ñ§ß§Ô§Ý§Ú§é§Ñ§ß§Ú§ß §ä§Ö§á§Ö§â§î §à§Ò§à§Ô§ß§Ñ§Ý §Þ§Ö§ß§ñ. §®§Ö§Ý§î§Ü§à§Þ, §Ù§Ñ§à§Õ§ß§à §ã§à §Ó§ã§Ö§Þ §á§â§à§é§Ú§Þ, §Ó§á§Ú§ä§í§Ó§Ñ§ñ §Ú §Ö§Ô§à, §ñ §Ù§Ñ§Þ§Ö§ä§Ú§Ý, §Ü§Ñ§Ü, §Ó §ã§ä§à§â§à§ß§å §ã§Ü§à§Ý§î§Ù§ß§å§Ó §Ò§à§Ý§î§ê§Ú§Þ §Ñ§Ü§Ó§Ñ§Þ§Ñ§â§Ú§ß§à§Ó§í§Þ §Ô§Ý§Ñ§Ù§à§Þ, §ã §Ó§à§ã§á§Ñ§Ý§×§ß§ß§í§Þ §Ý§å§Ù§Ô§à§Þ, §à§ß §ã§Ñ§Þ§í§Þ §Ü§à§ß§é§Ú§Ü§à§Þ §ñ§Ù§í§Ü§Ñ §Þ§à§Ý§ß§Ú§Ö§ß§à§ã§ß§à §à§Ò§Ý§Ú§Ù§ß§å§Ý§ã§ñ. §Á §Þ§Ñ§ê§Ú§ß§Ñ§Ý§î§ß§à §á§à§ã§Þ§à§ä§â§Ö§Ý §ä§å§Õ§Ñ §Ø§Ö §Ú §å§Ó§Ú§Õ§Ö§Ý §¯§Ú§ß§å.
Presently the same Englishman overtook me. As I absorbed him along with the rest, I happened to notice the sudden side-roll of his big blue eye straining at its crimson canthus, and the way he rapidly moistened his lips¡ªbecause of the dryness of those sponges, I thought; but then I followed the direction of his glance, and saw Nina.
In Vesna v Fialte (1936), the Russian original of VN¡¯s story ¡°Spring in Fialta,¡± the Englishman has bol¡¯shoy akvamarinovyi glaz (a big aquamarine eye). The epithet seems to hint at Marina Tsvetaev, the poet whose first name rhymes with Nina. At the end of his essay Dekol¡¯tirovannaya loshad¡¯ (¡°The Horse in a D¨¦collet¨¦ Dress,¡± 1927), Khodasevich quotes the opening lines of Marina Tsvetaev¡¯s poem ¡°To Mayakovski¡± (1921):
§°§Õ§ß§Ñ§Ø§Õ§í, §ß§Ö §ä§Ñ§Ü §Õ§Ñ§Ó§ß§à, §®§Ñ§â§Ú§ß§Ñ §¸§Ó§Ö§ä§Ñ§Ö§Ó§Ñ §à§Ò§â§Ñ§ä§Ú§Ý§Ñ§ã§î §Ü §®§Ñ§ñ§Ü§à§Ó§ã§Ü§à§Þ§å §ã§à §ã§ä§Ú§ç§Ñ§Þ§Ú:
§±§â§Ö§Ó§í§ê§Ö §è§Ö§â§Ü§Ó§Ö§Û §Ú §ä§â§å§Ò,
§²§à§Ø§Õ§×§ß§ß§í§Û §Ó §à§Ô§ß§Ö §Ú §Õ§í§Þ§Ö,
§¡§â§ç§Ñ§ß§Ô§Ö§Ý-§ä§ñ§Ø§Ö§Ý§à§ã§ä§å§á,
§©§Õ§à§â§à§Ó§à §Ó §Ó§Ö§Ü§Ñ§ç, §£§Ý§Ñ§Õ§Ú§Þ§Ú§â!
§¬§Ñ§Ø§Ö§ä§ã§ñ, §ï§ä§à §Ò§í§Ý §à§Õ§Ú§ß §Ú§Ù §á§à§ã§Ý§Ö§Õ§ß§Ú§ç §á§à§ï§ä§Ú§é§Ö§ã§Ü§Ú§ç §á§â§Ú§Ó§Ö§ä§à§Ó, §á§à§ã§Ý§Ñ§ß§ß§í§ç §®§Ñ§ñ§Ü§à§Ó§ã§Ü§à§Þ§å. §£§á§â§à§é§Ö§Þ, "§ä§ñ§Ø§Ö§Ý§à§ã§ä§å§á" §à§ã§ä§Ñ§Ý§ã§ñ §Ó§Ö§â§Ö§ß §ã§Ö§Ò§Ö §Ú §à§ä§Ó§Ö§ä§Ú§Ý §ß§Ñ §ß§Ö§Ô§à §Ò§â§Ñ§ß§î§ð.
Khodasevich¡¯s essay begins: ¡°Imagine a horse that imitates an old Englishwoman¡¡± (see my previous post).
In the closing line of her poem ¡°To Mayakovski¡± Marina Tsvetaev calls VN¡¯s ¡°late namesake¡± lomovoy archangel (¡°the dray archangel,¡± a play on lomovoy izvozchik, ¡°drayman¡±):
§©§Õ§à§â§à§Ó§à, §Ò§å§Ý§í§Ø§ß§í§Û §Ô§â§à§Þ!
§©§Ö§Ó§ß§å§Ý, §Ü§à§Ù§í§â§ß§å§Ý §Ú §ã§ß§à§Ó§Ñ
§°§Ô§Ý§à§Ò§Ý§Ö§Û §Ô§â§Ö§Ò§×§ä ¡ª §Ü§â§í§Ý§à§Þ
§¡§â§ç§Ñ§ß§Ô§Ö§Ý§Ñ §Ý§à§Þ§à§Ó§à§Ô§à.
At the beginning of VN¡¯s story the narrator mentions izvozchiki (those youthful cabmen) on the picture postcards:
§¥§Ñ§Ý§Ö§Ü§à, §Ó §Ò§Ý§Ö§Õ§ß§à§Þ §á§â§à§ã§Ó§Ö§ä§Ö, §Ó §ß§Ö§â§à§Ó§ß§à§Û §â§Ñ§Þ§Ö §ã§Ú§ß§Ö§Ó§Ñ§ä§í§ç §Õ§à§Þ§à§Ó, §ã §ä§â§å§Õ§à§Þ §á§à§Õ§ß§ñ§Ó§ê§Ú§ç§ã§ñ §ã §Ü§à§Ý§Ö§ß §Ú §à§ë§å§á§î§ð §Ú§ë§å§ë§Ú§ç §à§á§à§â§í (§Ü§Ý§Ñ§Õ§Ò§Ú§ë§Ö§ß§ã§Ü§Ú§Û §Ü§Ú§á§Ñ§â§Ú§ã §ä§ñ§ß§Ö§ä§ã§ñ §Ù§Ñ §ß§Ú§Þ§Ú), §â§Ñ§ã§á§Ý§í§Ó§é§Ñ§ä§à §à§é§Ö§â§é§Ö§ß§ß§Ñ§ñ §Ô§à§â§Ñ §ã§Ó. §¤§Ö§à§â§Ô§Ú§ñ §Þ§Ö§ß§Ö§Ö §é§Ö§Þ §Ü§à§Ô§Õ§Ñ-§Ý§Ú§Ò§à §á§à§ç§à§Ø§Ñ §ß§Ñ §è§Ó§Ö§ä§ß§í§Ö §ã§ß§Ú§Þ§Ü§Ú §ã §ß§Ö§×, §Ü§à§ä§à§â§í§Ö §ä§å§ä §Ø§Ö §ä§å§â§Ú§ã§ä§Ñ §à§Ø§Ú§Õ§Ñ§ð§ä (§ã §ä§í§ã§ñ§é§Ñ §Õ§Ö§Ó§ñ§ä§î§ã§à§ä §Õ§Ö§ã§ñ§ä§à§Ô§à §Ô§à§Õ§Ñ, §á§â§Ú§Þ§Ö§â§ß§à, §ã§å§Õ§ñ §á§à §ê§Ý§ñ§á§Ñ§Þ §Õ§Ñ§Þ §Ú §Þ§à§Ý§à§Õ§à§ã§ä§Ú §Ú§Ù§Ó§à§Ù§é§Ú§Ü§à§Ó), §ä§Ö§ã§ß§ñ§ã§î §Ó §Ù§Ñ§ã§ä§í§Ó§ê§Ö§Û §Ü§Ñ§â§å§ã§Ö§Ý§Ú §ã§Ó§à§Ö§Û §ã§ä§à§Û§Ü§Ú §Þ§Ö§Ø§Õ§å §à§ã§Ü§Ñ§Ý§à§Þ §Ü§Ñ§Þ§ß§ñ §Ó §Ñ§Þ§Ö§ä§Ú§ã§ä§à§Ó§í§ç §Ü§â§Ú§ã§ä§Ñ§Ý§Ý§Ñ§ç §Ú §Þ§à§â§ã§Ü§Ú§Þ §â§à§Ü§à§Ü§à §â§Ñ§Ü§à§Ó§Ú§ß.
Everything is damp: the piebald trunks of the plane trees, the juniper shrubs, the railings, the gravel. Far away, in a watery vista between the jagged edges of pale bluish houses, which have tottered up from their knees to climb the slope (a cypress indicating the way), the blurred Mount St. George is more than ever remote from its likeness on the picture postcards which since 1910, say (those straw hats, those youthful cabmen), have been courting the tourist from the sorry-go-round of their prop, among amethyst-toothed lumps of rock and the mantelpiece dreams of seashells.
Describing Fialta, the narrator mentions an orange tiger and the fooled elephants on the circus billboards:
§µ§Ý§Ú§è§Ñ §Ò§í§Ý§Ñ §Ó§ã§× §ä§Ñ§Ü§Ñ§ñ §Ø§Ö §Ó§Ý§Ñ§Ø§ß§Ñ§ñ, §ß§Ö§à§Ø§Ú§Ó§Ý§×§ß§ß§Ñ§ñ; §é§Ñ§Õ§à§Þ, §Ó§à§Ý§ß§å§ð§ë§Ú§Þ §ä§Ñ§ä§Ñ§â§ã§Ü§å§ð §Þ§à§ð §á§Ñ§Þ§ñ§ä§î, §ß§Ö§ã§Ý§à §Ú§Ù §Ô§à§Ý§í§ç §à§Ü§à§ß §Ò§Ý§Ö§Õ§ß§í§ç §Õ§à§Þ§à§Ó; §ß§Ö§Ò§à§Ý§î§ê§Ñ§ñ §Ü§à§Þ§á§Ñ§ß§Ú§ñ §Ü§à§Þ§Ñ§â§à§Ó §Ù§Ñ§ß§Ú§Þ§Ñ§Ý§Ñ§ã§î §ê§ä§à§á§Ñ§ß§Ú§Ö§Þ §Ó§à§Ù§Õ§å§ç§Ñ §ß§Ñ§Õ §Þ§Ú§Þ§à§Ù§à§Û, §Ü§à§ä§à§â§Ñ§ñ §è§Ó§Ö§Ý§Ñ, §ã§á§å§ã§ä§ñ §â§å§Ü§Ñ§Ó§Ñ §Õ§à §ã§Ñ§Þ§à§Û §Ù§Ö§Þ§Ý§Ú; §Õ§Ó§à§Ö §â§Ñ§Ò§à§é§Ú§ç §Ó §ê§Ú§â§à§Ü§Ú§ç §ê§Ý§ñ§á§Ñ§ç §Ù§Ñ§Ü§å§ã§í§Ó§Ñ§Ý§Ú §ã§í§â§à§Þ §ã §é§Ö§ã§ß§à§Ü§à§Þ, §á§â§Ú§ã§Ý§à§ß§Ú§Ó§ê§Ú§ã§î §Ü §Ñ§æ§Ú§ê§ß§à§Û §Õ§à§ã§Ü§Ö, §ß§Ñ §Ü§à§ä§à§â§å§ð §Ò§í§Ý§Ú §ß§Ñ§Ü§Ý§Ö§Ö§ß§í §Ô§å§ã§Ñ§â, §å§Ü§â§à§ä§Ú§ä§Ö§Ý§î §Ó §å§ã§Ñ§ç §Ú §à§â§Ñ§ß§Ø§Ö§Ó§í§Û §ä§Ú§Ô§â §ß§Ñ §Ò§Ö§Ý§à§Û §á§à§Õ§Ü§Ý§Ñ§Õ§Ü§Ö, §á§â§Ú§é§×§Þ §Ó §ã§ä§â§Ö§Þ§Ý§Ö§ß§Ú§Ú §ã§Õ§Ö§Ý§Ñ§ä§î §Ö§Ô§à §Ü§Ñ§Ü §Þ§à§Ø§ß§à §ã§Ó§Ú§â§Ö§á§Ö§Ö §ç§å§Õ§à§Ø§ß§Ú§Ü §Ù§Ñ§ê§Ö§Ý §ä§Ñ§Ü §Õ§Ñ§Ý§Ö§Ü§à, §é§ä§à §Ó§Ö§â§ß§å§Ý§ã§ñ §ã §Õ§â§å§Ô§à§Û §ã§ä§à§â§à§ß§í, §á§â§Ú§Õ§Ñ§Ó §Ö§Ô§à §Þ§à§â§Õ§Ö §Ü§à§Ö-§é§ä§à §é§Ö§Ý§à§Ó§Ö§é§Ö§ã§Ü§à§Ö.
Outside it was just as milky dull as before; the same smell of burning, stirring my Tartar memories, drifted from the bare windows of the pale houses; a small swarm of gnats was busy darning the air above a mimosa, which bloomed listlessly, her sleeves trailing to the very ground; two workmen in broad-brimmed hats were lunching on cheese and garlic, their backs against a circus billboard, which depicted a red hussar and an orange tiger of sorts; curious¡ªin his effort to make the beast as ferocious as possible, the artist had gone so far that he had come back from the other side, for the tiger¡¯s face looked positively human.
§¯§Ñ§á§â§Ñ§Ó§Ý§ñ§ñ§ã§î §Ü §Ô§à§ã§ä§Ú§ß§Ú§è§Ö, §Þ§í §á§â§à§ê§Ý§Ú §Þ§Ú§Þ§à §Ö§ë§× §ß§Ö §Õ§à§ã§ä§â§à§Ö§ß§ß§à§Û, §Ö§ë§× §á§å§ã§ä§à§Û §Ú §ã§à§â§ß§à§Û §Ó§ß§å§ä§â§Ú, §Ò§Ö§Ý§à§Û §Ó§Ú§Ý§Ý§í, §ß§Ñ §ã§ä§Ö§ß§Ö §Ü§à§ä§à§â§à§Û: §à§á§ñ§ä§î §Ó§ã§× §ä§Ö §Ø§Ö §ã§Ý§à§ß§í, §â§Ñ§ã§ã§ä§Ñ§Ó§ñ §é§å§Õ§à§Ó§Ú§ë§ß§à-§Þ§Ý§Ñ§Õ§Ö§ß§é§Ö§ã§Ü§Ú§Ö §Ü§à§Ý§Ö§ß§Ú, §ã§Ú§Õ§Ö§Ý§Ú §ß§Ñ §ä§å§Þ§Ò§Ú§ë§Ñ§ç; §Ó §ï§æ§Ú§â§ß§í§ç §á§Ñ§é§Ü§Ñ§ç §ß§Ñ§Ö§Ù§Õ§ß§Ú§è§Ñ (§å§Ø§Ö §ã §ß§Ñ§Õ§â§Ú§ã§à§Ó§Ñ§ß§ß§í§Þ§Ú §å§ã§Ñ§Þ§Ú) §à§ä§Õ§í§ç§Ñ§Ý§Ñ §ß§Ñ §ä§à§Ý§ã§ä§à§Þ §Ü§à§ß§Ö; §Ú §Ü§Ý§à§å§ß §ã §ä§à§Þ§Ñ§ä§à§Ó§í§Þ §ß§à§ã§à§Þ §ê§×§Ý §á§à §Ü§Ñ§ß§Ñ§ä§å, §Õ§Ö§â§Ø§Ñ §Ù§à§ß§ä§Ú§Ü, §Ú§Ù§å§Ü§â§Ñ§ê§Ö§ß§ß§í§Û §Ó§ã§× §ä§Ö§Þ§Ú §Ø§Ö §Ù§Ó§Ö§Ù§Õ§Ñ§Þ§Ú: §ã§Þ§å§ä§ß§à§Ö §Ó§à§ã§á§à§Þ§Ú§ß§Ñ§ß§Ú§Ö §à §ß§Ö§Ò§Ö§ã§ß§à§Û §â§à§Õ§Ú§ß§Ö §è§Ú§â§Ü§Ñ§é§Ö§Û.
On our way to the hotel, we passed a half-built white villa, full of litter within, on a wall of which again the same elephants, their monstrous baby knees wide apart, sat on huge, gaudy drums; in ethereal bundles the equestrienne (already with a penciled mustache) was resting on a broad-backed steed; and a tomato-nosed clown was walking a tightrope, balancing an umbrella ornamented with those recurrent stars¡ªa vague symbolic recollection of the heavenly fatherland of circus performers.
In Marina Tsvetaev¡¯s memoir essay on Bryusov, Geroy truda (¡°The Hero of Toil,¡± 1925), Tsvetaev¡¯s little daughter Alya (Ariadna Efron) compares Bryusov to Shere Khan (the tiger in Kipling¡¯s ¡°Jungle Book¡±). In his poem My (¡°We,¡± 1927) Khodasevich (who was married to Nina Berberov) mentions tigry i slony (the tigers and elephants) that wept when Orpheus sang to them about his wife:
§¯§Ö §Þ§å§Õ§â§à§ã§ä§î§ð §å§Þ§í§ê§Ý§Ö§ß§ß§í§ç §â§Ö§é§Ö§Û
§¬§Ñ§Þ§ß§ñ§Þ §á§à§Ó§Ö§Ý§Ö§Ó§Ñ§Ý §á§Ö§Ó§Ö§è §°§â§æ§Ö§Û.
§¹§ä§à §á§â§Ö§Ý§Ö§ã§ä§î §Þ§å§Õ§â§à§ã§ä§Ú §Ü§Ñ§Þ§ß§ñ§Þ §Ù§Ö§Þ§ß§í§Þ?
§°§ß §Þ§å§Õ§â§à§Û §á§â§Ö§Ý§Ö§ã§ä§î§ð §Ò§í§Ý §ã§Ý§Ñ§Õ§à§Ü §Ú§Þ.
§¯§Ö §á§à§å§é§Ñ§Ý §°§â§æ§Ö§Û, §ß§à §é§Ñ§â§à§Ó§Ñ§Ý -
§ª §Ü§Ñ§Þ§Ö§ß§î §Õ§Ú§Ü§Ú§Û §ß§Ñ §Õ§í§Ò§í §Ó§ã§ä§Ñ§Ó§Ñ§Ý
§ª §ê§×§Ý - §Ò§Ý§Ñ§Ø§Ö§ß§ß§à §Ý§Ö§é§î §å §Ò§Ö§Ý§í§ç §ß§à§Ô.
§ª§Ù §Ô§â§å§Õ§Ú §Þ§ê§Ú§ã§ä§à§Û §â§Ó§Ñ§Ý§ã§ñ §á§Ö§â§Ó§í§Û §Ó§Ù§Õ§à§ç.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
§¬§à§Ô§Õ§Ñ §Ó§Ù§â§í§Õ§Ñ§Ý§Ú §ä§Ú§Ô§â§í §Ú §ã§Ý§à§ß§í
§° §á§â§Ö§Ý§Ö§ã§ä§ñ§ç §°§â§æ§Ö§Ö§Ó§à§Û §Ø§Ö§ß§í -
§ª§Ù §Ü§Ñ§Þ§Ö§ß§ß§à§Û §Ú §Ú§Ù §Ù§Ó§Ö§â§Ú§ß§à§Û §ä§î§Þ§í
§´§à§Ô§Õ§Ñ §Ó§á§Ö§â§Ó§í§Ö §Ó§í§Ý§å§á§Ú§Ý§Ú§ã§î - §Þ§í.
By charming Hades, Orpheus managed to obtain the permission to lead away from the underworld his wife Eurydice. In VN¡¯s story the narrator cannot imagine any heavenly firm that would arrange him a meeting with Nina beyond the grave:
§´§Ö§á§Ö§â§î §Þ§í §ã§Ó§Ú§Õ§Ö§Ý§Ú§ã§î §Ó §ä§å§Þ§Ñ§ß§ß§à§Û §Ú §ä§×§á§Ý§à§Û §¶§Ú§Ñ§Ý§î§ä§Ö, §Ú §ñ §ß§Ö §Þ§à§Ô §Ò§í §ã §Ò¨®§Ý§î§ê§Ú§Þ §Ú§Ù§ñ§ë§Ö§ã§ä§Ó§à§Þ §á§â§Ñ§Ù§Õ§ß§à§Ó§Ñ§ä§î §ï§ä§à §ã§Ó§Ú§Õ§Ñ§ß§Ú§Ö (§á§Ö§â§Ö§é§ß§Ö§Þ, §ã §Ó§Ú§ß§î§Ö§ä§Ü§Ñ§Þ§Ú §à§ä §â§å§Ü§Ú §Ü§â§Ñ§ê§Ö§ß§ß§í§Þ§Ú, §Ó§ã§Ö§ç §á§â§Ö§Ø§ß§Ú§ç §Ù§Ñ§ã§Ý§å§Ô §ã§å§Õ§î§Ò§í), §Ù§ß§Ñ§Û §ñ §Õ§Ñ§Ø§Ö, §é§ä§à §à§ß§à §á§à§ã§Ý§Ö§Õ§ß§Ö§Ö; §á§à§ã§Ý§Ö§Õ§ß§Ö§Ö, §Ô§à§Ó§à§â§ð; §Ú§Ò§à §ñ §ß§Ö §Ó §ã§à§ã§ä§à§ñ§ß§Ú§Ú §á§â§Ö§Õ§ã§ä§Ñ§Ó§Ú§ä§î §ã§Ö§Ò§Ö §ß§Ú§Ü§Ñ§Ü§å§ð §á§à§ä§å§ã§ä§à§â§à§ß§ß§ð§ð §à§â§Ô§Ñ§ß§Ú§Ù§Ñ§è§Ú§ð, §Ü§à§ä§à§â§Ñ§ñ §ã§à§Ô§Ý§Ñ§ã§Ú§Ý§Ñ§ã§î §Ò§í §å§ã§ä§â§à§Ú§ä§î §Þ§ß§Ö §ß§à§Ó§å§ð §Ó§ã§ä§â§Ö§é§å §ã §ß§Ö§ð §Ù§Ñ §Ô§â§à§Ò§à§Þ.
This time we had met in warm and misty Fialta, and I could not have celebrated the occasion with greater art, could not have adorned with brighter vignettes the list of fate¡¯s former services, even if I had known that this was to be the last one; the last one, I maintain, for I cannot imagine any heavenly firm of brokers that might consent to arrange me a meeting with her beyond the grave.
Re ¡°hymen:¡± in the Russian original of VN¡¯s story the narrator mentions soyuz mezhdu ventsom i smert¡¯yu (¡°the union between wedding crown and death;¡± to drop one¡¯s engagement ring during the wedding ceremony is a bad sign). ¡°Hymen¡± appears only in the English version and seems to hint at the beginning of Pushkin¡¯s letter of Feb. 20, 1826, to Delvig (who just married Sophia Saltykov):
§®§à§Û §Õ§â§å§Ô §Ò§Ñ§â§à§ß, §ñ §ß§Ñ §ä§Ö§Ò§ñ §ß§Ö §Õ§å§Ý§ã§ñ §Ú §Õ§à§Ý§Ô§à§Ö §ä§Ó§à§× §Þ§à§Ý§é§Ñ§ß§Ú§Ö §Ó§Ö§Ý§Ú§Ü§à§Õ§å§ê§ß§à §Ú§Ù§Ó§Ú§ß§ñ§Ý §ä§Ó§à§Ú§Þ §¤§Ú§Þ§Ö§ß§Ö§Ö§Þ
Io hymen Hymenaee io,
Io hymen Hymenaee!
§ä. e. §é§à§â§ä §á§à§Ò§Ö§â§Ú §Ó§Ñ§ê§å §ã§Ó§Ñ§Õ§î§Ò§å, §ã§Ó§Ñ§Õ§î§Ò§å §Ó§Ñ§ê§å §é§à§â§ä §á§à§Ò§Ö§â§Ú. §¬§à§Ô§Õ§Ñ §Õ§â§å§Ù§î§ñ §Þ§à§Ú §Ø§Ö§ß§ñ§ä§ã§ñ, §Ú§Þ §ã§Þ§Ö§ç, §Ñ §Þ§ß§Ö §Ô§à§â§Ö; §ß§à §ä§Ñ§Ü §Ú §Ò§í§ä§î: §Ñ§á§à§ã§ä§à§Ý §±§Ñ§Ó§Ö§Ý §Ô§à§Ó§à§â§Ú§ä §Ó §à§Õ§ß§à§Þ §Ú§Ù §ã§Ó§à§Ú§ç §á§à§ã§Ý§Ñ§ß§Ú§Û, §é§ä§à §Ý§å§é§ê§Ö §Ó§Ù§ñ§ä§î §ã§Ö§Ò§Ö §Ø§Ö§ß§å, §é§Ö§Þ §Ú§Õ§ä§Ú §Ó §Ô§Ö§Ö§ß§ß§å §Ú §Ó§à §à§Ô§ß§î §Ó§Ö§é§ß§í§Û ¡ª §à§Ò§ß§Ú§Þ§Ñ§ð §Ú §á§à§Ù§Õ§â§Ñ§Ó§Ý§ñ§ð §ä§Ö§Ò§ñ ¡ª §â§Ö§Ü§à§Þ§Ö§ß§Õ§å§Û §Þ§Ö§ß§ñ §Ò§Ñ§â§à§ß§Ö§ã§ã§Ö §¥§Ö§Ý§î§Ó§Ú§Ô.
In his essay Krovavaya pishcha (¡°Bloody Food,¡± 1932) Khodasevich accuses Delvig¡¯s depraved wife and polite Benckendorf (the chief of the political police of Nicholas I) of Delvig¡¯s early death:
§ª §ã§ß§à§Ó§Ñ §Ú§Õ§×§ä §é§Ö§â§Ö§Õ§Ñ: §Ô§à§Ý§à§Õ§ß§í§Û §¬§à§ã§ä§â§à§Ó, «§Ò§Ý§Ñ§Ô§à§á§à§Ý§å§é§ß§í§Û» §¥§Ö§â§Ø§Ñ§Ó§Ú§ß, §á§â§Ö§Õ§Ñ§ß§ß§í§Û §¦§Ü§Ñ§ä§Ö§â§Ú§ß§Ö §Ú §á§â§Ö§Õ§Ñ§ß§ß§í§Û §¦§Ü§Ñ§ä§Ö§â§Ú§ß§à§Û; §Ú§Ù§Þ§å§é§Ö§ß§ß§í§Û §Ù§Ñ§Ó§Ú§ã§ä§ß§Ú§Ü§Ñ§Þ§Ú §°§Ù§Ö§â§à§Ó; §¥§Ö§Ý§î§Ó§Ú§Ô, §ã§Ó§Ö§Õ§×§ß§ß§í§Û §Ó §Þ§à§Ô§Ú§Ý§å §â§Ñ§Ù§Ó§â§Ñ§ä§ß§à§Û §Ø§Ö§ß§à§Û §Ú §Ó§Ö§Ø§Ý§Ú§Ó§í§Þ §¢§Ö§ß§Ü§Ö§ß§Õ§à§â§æ§à§Þ; §à§Ò§Ö§Ù§å§Þ§Ö§Ó§ê§Ú§Û §à§ä «§ã§Ó§Ú§ß§í§ç §â§í§Ý» §Ú §ã§Ñ§Þ §ã§Ö§Ò§ñ §å§Þ§à§â§Ú§Ó§ê§Ú§Û §¤§à§Ô§à§Ý§î; §Õ§Ñ§Ý§î§ê§Ö ¡ª §¬§à§Ý§î§è§à§Ó, §¯§Ú§Ü§Ú§ä§Ú§ß, §¤§à§ß§é§Ñ§â§à§Ó; §Ù§Ñ§Ö§Õ§Ö§ß§ß§í§Û §Õ§â§å§Ù§î§ñ§Þ§Ú §Ú §Ò§Ö§Ø§Ñ§Ó§ê§Ú§Û §à§ä §ß§Ú§ç, §à§ä §ã§Ö§Þ§î§Ú §Ü§å§Õ§Ñ §Ô§Ý§Ñ§Ù§Ñ §Ô§Ý§ñ§Õ§ñ§ä, §Ó §ß§à§é§î, §Ó §ã§Þ§Ö§â§ä§î, §§Ö§Ó §´§à§Ý§ã§ä§à§Û; §Ù§Ñ§Õ§å§ê§Ö§ß§ß§í§Û §¢§Ý§à§Ü, §Ù§Ñ§Ô§ß§Ñ§ß§ß§í§Û §Ò§à§Ý§î§ê§Ö§Ó§Ú§Ü§Ñ§Þ§Ú §¤§Ö§â§ê§Ö§ß§Ù§à§ß, §Õ§à§Ó§Ö§Õ§Ö§ß§ß§í§Û §Õ§à §á§Ö§ä§Ý§Ú §¦§ã§Ö§ß§Ú§ß.
In his EO Commentary VN points out that the wake commemorating Delvig¡¯s death was held by his friends (including Pushkin) on Jan. 27, 1831, exactly six years before Pushkin¡¯s fatal duel. The name of Pushkin¡¯s adversary, George d¡¯Anth¨¨s, brings to mind the Mount St. George mentioned by the narrator of VN¡¯s story.
Alexey Sklyarenko