Tuesday, December 9, 2025

Translations: The Bestest of the Best, TWENTY-FOUR, Osip Mandelstam, THE STALIN EPIGRAM

                                                                   Stalin Mugshot, 1911


Father of the Soviet People, 1936

Осип Мандельштам
(1891-1938)

 

Мы живем, под собою не чуя страны,
Наши речи за
 десять шагов не слышны,
А
 где хватит на полразговорца,
Там припомнят кремлёвского горца.

Его толстые пальцы, как черви, жирны,
А
 слова, как пудовые гири, верны,
Тараканьи смеются усища,
И
 сияют его голенища.

 

А вокруг него сброд тонкошеих вождей,
Он
 играет услугами полулюдей.
Кто свистит, кто мяучит, кто хнычет,
Он
 один лишь бабачит и тычет,

 

Как подкову, кует за указом указ —
Кому в
 пах, кому в лоб, кому в бровь, кому в глаз.
Что ни
 казнь у него — то малина
И
 широкая грудь осетина.

 1933 г.

 

d

                                             Literary Translation/Adaptation by U.R. Bowie
 
                                                 Soso

Underfoot all’s a-tremble, for our country’s gone blurred, 
Ten steps from us none of our words can be heard;
When we find enough speech to converse, a half schmeer,
We mention the Kremlin’s renowned mountaineer.
 
His fingers are fat, and like worms, squirmy-greasy,
And his words are like true-blue barbells from Tbilisi;
His handlebar cockroach-style moustaches laughing,
And his boot tops are gleaming and ever so dashing.
 
Around him swirl bureaucrats, vermin thin-necked,
He plays with this half-human sycophant sect.
One whistles, one meows, one whimpers, one kids,
He alone clonks on noggins and jabs hard at ribs.
 
One decree, then another, he forges like horseshoes—
A groin-kick, eye-poke for you, yours and youse—
Lopping off heads is just part of the deal
For this broad-chested guy made of Ossetian steel.  

 

d

 

Translator’s Note

 The “Stalin Epigram,” one of the most famous/notorious poems of twentieth-century Russian literature, was written in November of 1933. The poem of course could not be published, but Mandelstam read it to some twelve persons—at least one of whom denounced him to the authorities. When he read it to Boris Pasternak, his fellow poet responded as follows: “То, что вы мне прочли, не имеет никакого отношения к литературе, поэзии. Это не литературный факт, но акт самоубийства, который я не одобряю и в котором не хочу принимать участия. Вы мне ничего не читали, я ничего не слышал, и прошу вас не читать их никому другому. Translation: What you’ve just read to me has nothing to do with literature or poetry. This is not a literary artifact, but an act of suicide, which I do not approve of and do not want to participate in. You read me nothing, I heard nothing, and I beg you not to read it to anyone else.”

The only surprising thing is that Mandelstam was not arrested and executed as soon as the poem came to light. But Stalin himself—who had a dark sense of humor—was rumored to have liked it. He allowed the poet to go on living, in various places of exile, until 1938, when he was arrested and died in a transit camp in Vladivostok, on his way to the Gulag.

 

Words Used and What They Allude To (most info here is from Wikipedia)

Soso: the poem is not titled in the original; I have given it this title in my translation. Soso was Stalin’s nickname in his Georgian childhood. He originally was Ioseb [Joseph] (“Soso”) Jughashvilli (sometimes spelled Dzhugashvilli)Stalin (“Man of Steel”) is a nom de guerre, like Lenin, a revolutionary name.

First stanza: The mountaineer (горец) alludes to Stalin’s origins in Georgia and the Caucasus Mountains.

Second stanza: “His fingers are fat . . .” In her reminiscences Nadezhda Mandelstam describes how the poet Demyan Bednyj “was careless enough to write in his diary that he did not like lending books to Stalin, because the latter left on the white pages smudges from his greasy fingers.”

Tbilisi: capital of Georgia, Stalin’s homeland, now the independent Georgian Republic. The word is not in the original, but presented itself as the perfect rhyme for greasy in my translation.

Third stanza: “clonks on noggins . . .” Reminiscences of Stalin emphasize how he liked to play around with his confederates, leaders of the Politburo. In meetings at his dacha he made them dance with one another. He enjoyed humiliating them, bonking them on the head, pulling them by an ear, or poking them in the ribs.

Fourth stanza: in this poem the word raspberries (малина) has nothing to do with raspberries. I’ve looked at the some dozen translations of this poem into English on the website ruverses.com, and it appears that not a single translator figured this out. Most of them just ignore the word, not knowing what the hell it’s doing there; a few make lame attempts to get some raspberries into the translation.

Малина in the jargon of the criminal underworld means a scheme or endeavor (“the job”—a caper, theft, robbery, or other criminal plan or act). E.g., “Он испортил всю малину” (literally, “He spoiled all the raspberries”) means “He put the quietus on the whole deal.” See Kratkij slovar’ sovremennogo russkogo zhargona (A Brief Lexicon of Modern Russian Jargon), compiled by M.M. and B.P. Krestinsky (Posev: 1965), p. 16. The next to last line in the poem means roughly that executions are part and parcel of Stalin’s criminal machinations. Using a slang word current among criminals could be an allusion to his revolutionary youth when he was known as Koba. Among other felonious activities, he participated in kidnappings for ransom, protection rackets, and robbing banks.

More on malina--note in a e-mail from Andrei Filippov, which I add below, with thanks to him: 

Только что прочитал ваш перевод стихотворения О. Мандельштама с примечаниями. Позвольте небольшое уточнение. На фене, русском блатном жаргоне, слово "малина", насколько мне известно, означает место проживания или сбора группы, место хранения добычи и место проведения свободного времени. Это может быть дом, квартира, ресторан и т. д. То есть это географическая точка, а не сама группа. Я могу ошибаться, но за свои 60 с лишним лет я не встречал другого определения.

The gist in English: "as far as I know the word "malina" signifies the place where a criminal gang, lives, hangs out or keeps its booty. That can be a house, apartment, restaurant, etc. In other words, it's a geographical place, and the word does not refer to the gang itself. I may be mistaken, but . . . I've never heard another definition of the word.

Ossetian: Stalin was a Georgian, not an Ossetian, but his hometown of Gori was located near Southern Ossetia.

d

In the original variant of the poem the first stanza went like this:

Мы живём, под собою не чуя страны,
Наши речи за десять шагов не слышны,
Только слышно кремлёвского горца —
Душегубца и мужикоборца.

Literal translation:

We live, not sensing the country beneath us,
What we say is not heard ten steps away from us,
Only audible [are the words of] the Kremlin mountaineer:
A murderer and oppressor of peasants.
 

 




Прыгуны (Leapers) OSIP AND NADEZHDA MANDELSTAM

                                                                     Khlysty Radenie


 

Прыгуны (Leapers)

 

In her reminiscences titled in English Hope Against Hope, Nadezhda Mandelstam (NM) wife of Osip Mandelstam (M)—widely regarded as the best Russian poet of the twentieth century—describes in detail the excruciating life of herself and her husband in exile, after his first arrest in 1934.

While the two were eking out a living for three years in the provincial city of Voronezh, M was fascinated with the Southern Russian speech spoken there (bordering on Ukrainian). The Mandelstams had occasion to visit the nearby village of Nikolskoye, where they encountered sectarians known as Jumpers. According to NM, they “composed religious ballads of a traditional type about their unsuccessful attempts to leap up to heaven. Not long before we visited it, the village had been the scene of dramatic events. The sectarians had fixed a day on which they would take off for heaven, and, convinced that by next morning they would no longer be of this world, they gave away all their property to their earthbound neighbors. Coming to their senses when they fell to the ground, they rushed to retrieve their belongings, and a terrible fight broke out” (English translation of Hope Against Hope by Max Hayward, 1970; above citation is from the paperback Modern Library Edition, 1999, p. 143-44).

As far as I can determine, the author here proves herself to be almost as wonderful a fiction writer as her poet husband. What information I can find about the Jumpers describes the sectarians as having much in common with other Russian religious sects still operative in the nineteen and twentieth centuries (e.g., the more notorious Khlysty and Skoptsy, the Whippers and Castrates), and even with modern Pentecostals. True, I have made only a cursory check of internet sources, and what I have found affirms that the rituals of the Jumpers involved a lot of ecstatic, frenetic activity (dancing, jumping around). But nothing that I can find claims that they made attempts to leap from this earth directly to heaven.

This does make, however, for an irresistible tale of fiction. Just imagine all the Jumpers of the village up in trees and on rooftops on the Judgment Day. At a signal from their leader, they bend down into squats, then leap out with all their might into the air, flapping their arms like wings. But nobody makes it to heaven; all the would-be avians fall heavily back down to earth. Coming to their senses, they pick themselves up, dust themselves off. Muttering curses, they immediately go in search of the wheelbarrows and spades they had given away to non-Jumper neighbors. A great fight breaks out. End of fiction.

d

This bizarre tale of the Jumpers has a certain congruence with the broad theme of Nadezhda Mandelstam’s whole book. After the poet composed his epigram on Stalin he, of course, could not publish the poem, but he read it to several friends and acquaintances. Then one of them secretly denounced him. Boris Pasternak pronounced the poem “an act of suicide,” which, given the temperament of the Stalinist times, it certainly was. M. was arrested in 1934 and interrogated at the notorious Lubyanka Prison in Moscow, where they showed him copies of the unpublished poem mocking Stalin. Then, in what seemed like a miracle—but was apparently the result of Stalin’s personal intervention—M was released and, along with his wife, sent into exile. The order that came down from above was “isolate, but preserve.”

Upon their arrival in the provincial town of Cherdyn—first stop in their four-year odyssey of exile—M, still in something of a psychotic state after his stay in Lubyanka, attempted suicide by jumping from a hospital window. This episode is described in a chapter titled “The Leap.” The result was a dislocated shoulder, but after this the psychosis seemed to dissipate. A few years later, after three years of exile in Voronezh, the couple, prohibited from living in Moscow, survived by finding shelter in various villages surrounding the capital city and begging for money from friends. During these desperate days NM once awoke to find her husband standing and looking out an open window of an apartment on an upper story. At this point he suggested it was time for the two of them to jump. Normally it was NM who brought up the possibility of committing joint suicide, but this time she refused to make the leap.

After he was arrested for a second time in 1938, M was sentenced to five years for “counter-revolutionary activity.” He ended up in a transit camp in Vladivostok, on his way to a concentration camp. This, apparently, is where he finally made his preordained leap into the next world. NM’s account (in the first volume of her memoir) ends with her still expressing doubts about exactly where, when, and how her husband perished. In June, 1940, his brother Aleksandr was provided a death certificate at the Registry Office in the Bauman District, Moscow, with instructions to pass it on to NM. “M’s age was given as forty-seven, and the date of his death as December 27, 1938. The cause was listed as ‘heart failure’” (Hope Against Hope, p. 381). Providing a death certificate in such circumstances was a highly unusual act; most relatives of those who perished in the maw of Stalinist oppression never received any notice of their demise. Still hounded by Soviet authorities for most of the rest of her life, NM continued on her itinerant path for years, moving from one provincial town to another. She survived M by forty-two years, dying only in 1980.