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iina's review
5.0
Utterly brilliant intro to Russian poetry. Requires no proper knowledge, and will take you through history with verse, and you acquire knowledge about Russia without even realising it. I really enjoyed reading this book bit by bit over a few weeks, dipping in and out of the poetry and making my way through the centuries.
barrypierce's review
4.0
In this expansive anthology, Robert Chandler summarises the past three-hundred years of Russian poetry into a surprisingly tight 528 pages. Beginning with Gavrila Derzhavin and ending with Marina Boroditskaya, sixty-six Russian poets grace the pages of this book, all of whom sit around a rotunda at the centre of which Pushkin sits proudly.
Prior to reading this collection my knowledge of Russian poetry was nil. Thankfully this book was written exactly for me: the absolute beginner. Chandler holds your hand as he weaves you through history, poet by poet, providing a small biography of each person as well as a handful of their work. Treat this book like a fan of paint swatches, investigating which shades you love, which shades you hate, and which ones clash horribly.
Great emphasis is placed on Pushkin, as Pushkin is to Russian literature what Shakespeare is to English. Early sections are even titled for him. You begin 'Around Pushkin', you then move onto Pushkin himself, and you exit 'After Pushkin'. One may question the emphasis placed on Pushkin within this anthology, just as many are now questioning the centrality of Shakespeare within the English canon. But just by reading most of the poems presented to you by Chandler you will notice that Pushkin is the spectre which haunts nearly every single one of them. Any Russian poet worth their salt in the 19th and 20th centuries has a poem, or a series of poems, dedicated to Pushkin, such is his almost Christ-like status within Russian literature.
Reading many of the poets' biographies one is also made aware of the sheer danger associated with calling oneself a poet in 20th century Russia. Apart from Pasternak, who died of lung cancer, practically every biography ends with, and I am greatly paraphrasing here, 'they died in a gulag'. It is somewhat miraculous that so much poetry even survives, given the dire condition in which much of it was created. As Lev Ozerov wrote of Shmuel Halkin 'poems piled up / a terrible burden / more dangerous, perhaps, than gunpowder'.
This collection has introduced me to so many wonderful new names. In many ways it is a burden, as I now have to go out and buy collections by all of these new writers and my bookshelf will bow under the weight but at least the shelves will look like they're smiling.
Prior to reading this collection my knowledge of Russian poetry was nil. Thankfully this book was written exactly for me: the absolute beginner. Chandler holds your hand as he weaves you through history, poet by poet, providing a small biography of each person as well as a handful of their work. Treat this book like a fan of paint swatches, investigating which shades you love, which shades you hate, and which ones clash horribly.
Great emphasis is placed on Pushkin, as Pushkin is to Russian literature what Shakespeare is to English. Early sections are even titled for him. You begin 'Around Pushkin', you then move onto Pushkin himself, and you exit 'After Pushkin'. One may question the emphasis placed on Pushkin within this anthology, just as many are now questioning the centrality of Shakespeare within the English canon. But just by reading most of the poems presented to you by Chandler you will notice that Pushkin is the spectre which haunts nearly every single one of them. Any Russian poet worth their salt in the 19th and 20th centuries has a poem, or a series of poems, dedicated to Pushkin, such is his almost Christ-like status within Russian literature.
Reading many of the poets' biographies one is also made aware of the sheer danger associated with calling oneself a poet in 20th century Russia. Apart from Pasternak, who died of lung cancer, practically every biography ends with, and I am greatly paraphrasing here, 'they died in a gulag'. It is somewhat miraculous that so much poetry even survives, given the dire condition in which much of it was created. As Lev Ozerov wrote of Shmuel Halkin 'poems piled up / a terrible burden / more dangerous, perhaps, than gunpowder'.
This collection has introduced me to so many wonderful new names. In many ways it is a burden, as I now have to go out and buy collections by all of these new writers and my bookshelf will bow under the weight but at least the shelves will look like they're smiling.
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