55th volume in the famous series "Logos" became "Selected Works" Basil Zuenko. Poet of the earth — to use the feature Gregory Baradulin. Poet of space — if you remember the journey to orbit vakolzemnay his book, "The Beginning," read by the station "Salyut" cosmonaut Vladimir Kovalenko. On the earthly and heavenly elements of poetry Basil Zuenko talk to him Michas Scoble.
Michas Scoble: "Sir Basil, your selected works be published repeatedly — and in the form of refined separate volumes, and as dvuhtomavika. What do you mean," kgigazboravski "is a crimson sheath (the word Theodore Jankowski)?
Vasily Zuyenok: "Braid — it's good. This is not gossip. And earlier books were dear to me, but this — the favorite, since its release I got in that cohort, which lists the already immortal classics … But, thank God," Logos " already started to issue and modern Belarusian poetry. recently in this series came out a few books poets of my generation. Without this present generation of our literature is hard, especially today, when the Belarusian people stopped some historical crossroads, pass. "
Scoble: "As far as the poet — his own judge? Does it objectively evaluate yourself? Easy for you to work was given to the selection of the works included in the final volume?"
Zuyenok: "Frankly, this" selektsyya "was given to me is harder than writing those works. This was the most painful thing. Peralapachvav I have three poems, and still left a bitter taste somewhere — maybe chose wrong? Always gnawing doubts in similar cases. I think I just finished graphomaniac doubts. eventually "knigazboravskaya" book came out, and it is for the author — a great joy. "
Scoble: "Preparing the next reprint of his works, or to correct them you?'s Ales Nawrocki, who was recently a guest of our program, some of the poems copied — do not know. And you?"
Zuyenok: "I almost never rewrite. Sometimes a word to correct, realizing that it is a bit out of place. Happened that at the time he dictated the editing. Then a hot hand gave his consent, and now re-read, as if for zachepissya that stump or stump — or fall. And so I quietly turn their words, or lines that I had before. Still, those words carry great truth-the truth than the written later. "
Scoble: "Your" knigazboravskim "volume contains the whole block and photographs. And I remember a photo of you — along with Jakub ear. Recently just passed Kolasoviny … What's left in your memory after that historic meeting?"
Zuyenok: "That meeting was held in the Union of Writers. Going there to all newcomers. Most important thing is not that we Konstantin said. He said some words of parental-guidance. Main was still in that warm uzrushanastsi — you can see a live Kolas It at school, in pedvuchelni we looked at it as a legend than a living history. Yakub Kolas And, it turns out, the old man is alive, we thought. Though now I'm the same age and did not feel like an old man … But we looked at the Kolasa exactly as a deity, as if from the sky, he flew to us and something we divinely-wise sense. "
Scoble: "Basil Zuyenok — the poet of the earth" — wrote about you Ryhor Baradulin. But you are different: both terrestrial and space, and the lyrical and epic. And what is still the element closer to you? "
Zuyenok: "Here it is difficult to clearly define. For me, these elements are inseparable. Earth without the sky does not happen, the sky is not without ground. For what is heaven? It's our Earth, purely human concept. Heaven itself is not, it is what we have created, we are without him can not live. we scrutinize it, imagine that God is sitting there … All that we identify with the sky, the stars, although the constellation — is also a purely human concept. Constellation created people, gave them names, we use them. A in fact, these stars are very, very far apart, they can even be in different galaxies, but in our view they merged … And we feel the earth under your feet every day, we feel like it stretches its shoots, leaves to the sky, to the sun. Here is my feeling celestial and terrestrial elements. I do not share them, they are for me like one, as my soul. "
Scoble: "By listing what happens Zuyenok in his work, I forgot your name one more feature: you're a gnomic." Oh, do not face us names, / is the glory — as a curse. "" Naked truth — as a naked woman — / want at least something to cover up. "" Was the era of the class — / cash era now. "How important is it for the poet to remain in people's memory — a string dictum? Or — just in the academic history of literature?"
Zuyenok"Honestly, I never considered myself afarystam not. Quoted as saying — it's my natural reasoning, lines, I do not think their aphorisms. In fact, whether there will be a cruise line, a more sensitive role of the reader, not the author. It can of the most common words to create for themselves a formula, which at the moment seems to be very important for his soul. Sometimes, reading classic poetry and — once slip, and the second time — zachepissya. example, a common line of Pushkin's "Keep me, my talisman" so I was amazed that I had set at the beginning of his verse. And it is for me already — as an aphorism as an epigraph as the formula of wisdom. Again, "afaryzmatvarennem" engage readers more than poets. poet writes not for aphorisms, he simply writes . "
Authors and works
SERGEY Astraviec "Grodno and Kolozhu gives strength to write again"
What unites the mainland and the island of Grodno Belarus Swedish town Visbyu? What is more inspiring Belarusian writer — a leisurely wave of Neman or storm on the Baltic Sea? And why it's better to sail on a ship with barrels of wine than to sit on the beach with barrels of gunpowder? About this says Sergey Astraviec — Belarusian writer of Grodno, who recently returned home from the Baltic writers and translators, which is located on the Swedish island of Gotlyand. He's talking Valentine Aksak.
Valentine Aksak: "Sergei, as the writer works Grodno fall? Or create a creative mood, helps to write?"
Sergei Astraviec: "Yes, I love our Hrodna autumn. Castle Hill, studded with green leaves, between the color of the leaves of trees wall Kolozhi with non-canonical form of a cross, it creates a mood to think on paper, writing prose. Finally I was able to take on larger sized product, I hope, what happens novel. way, I began to write it this fall on Gotlyande in Visbyu, Baltic House of Writers and translators. "
Aksak: "And how was it working on Gotlyande — better than at home, or you need to work to customary conditions, home?"
Astraviec: "I rarely have to go to somewhere and I used to write at home, Grodno really favorable place. When going out, look out the window at the flag with the bison and the royal crown to determine — what is today the wind. And Visbyu on flyagshtoku flag with sheep and cross, the lamb of God. So once happened that I woke up and heard five shots bells from the church bell tower near the temple — kyrka Swedish. would get up, soon coming down, m
aking coffee, and returned, sat down at the table at once became involved in a good rhythm. They gave me 11 minutes the room, and this is my number. novel — a long journey, I do not know, on the train, or is it even a caravan routes, it is impossible to pass it quickly or rapidly.'s no comparison to what you flew over the sea and released in Visbyu, where even a passport is not asked. Moreover, you never did, you open up a new world and you do not know come to the end, even though you really want to necessarily finish his first novel. "
Aksak: "Nearby — awarded in Stockholm's most famous literary award, would you look at this city?"
Astraviec: "I saw it from the air … If you give the prize is not widely known to the author, this is disappointing. Conversely, when it was now Mario Vargas Llosa, who is known everywhere, you think — the way it should be. I remember the phrase from one of his novel: the character "with respect and gently ran his hand over" the edge "binding as if caressing a cat." The main character, by the way, led by the information service on the radio, he carved interesting reports from the newspapers to "brighten up" and use. This work is said ironically.
In my first book, by the way, is the story of "Nobel", written in the first person. From the country behind the Iron Curtain is sent to Stockholm to receive the prize instead of dissident writer of another person, he should be reincarnated. He even wants to expose the platform mode, but ends up annoying tantrum, refusing to award — let me quote a short — he yells: "The proletarian writers are not on sale! We are writing to the heart, and our hearts belong to the Party! .. "
House of creativity in Visbyu
Aksak: "What gave you the experience of working in the house of creativity in Visbyu where writers come from different countries? What impressions associated with writers?"
Astraviec: "The experience, by the way, the first in my life. There was Icelandic translator. And now we're standing in the dining room with a cup of coffee in front of a map, and I am convinced that almost Grodno near Gotlyandam when compared to Reykjavik … Poles were closer to me, I look at the Polish news, TV shows, we have enough common topics of conversation.
Together we went to the neighboring island of Faro, the island of Ingmar Bergman. In recent years he lived there, is buried there. Grave — the church cemetery with beautiful views of the sea, on the ground just a small boulder and two names — and Ingrid Bergman. And the first thought: is this not a famous Hollywood actress — Ingrid Bergman? It really was shot in one of his films. But Ingrid — his last wife, the fifth, by the way. Never thought I'll get to this place.
I remember: one day I wanted to reread kinaapovestsi Bergman, it was in July, three years ago, and at the end of the month he died. I'm back from Gotlyandu and picked up the book again. Especially good thing — "Serpent's Egg" is fiction, but with such kinadyyalegami. The action takes place in Berlin at the uncomfortable end of 1923: "A pack of cigarettes costs thirteen million marks, and ordinary people have almost lost faith in the present and in the future."
In Bergman found himself close to me thought, he wrote that he wanted to make movies, "the mood, psychological stress, images, rhythms and characters that live in me and that somehow I'm interested."
Faro was his home, but it seemed a homogeneous island. I took a picture of a lamp, the lighthouse, next Tarkovsky shot the last scene of his film. Yet, like me, Faro quite harsh and uncomfortable, to me there would have been difficult to tune in to write. "
Tomb Ingrid and Ingmar Bergman
Aksak: "But Gotlyand probably can not not like it, because there is Visbyu — a medieval fortified walls of the city?"
Astraviec"Gotlyand — the first is my island, except for Venice, where once the call in a while. Creator to the island — a perfect place, but still in the city outside the walls of length three and a half kilometers away, in Visbyu. Novogrudsky Here in the castle ruins two large towers, and they have so far are impressive. Visbyu In 29 such towers, partly preserved, plus a "tower-saddle", built on the walls.
I enjoyed on sunny days to pass along the sea and sit on the bench, the Powder Tower, it is close to the sea and next to the gates into the city. This is a quadrangular tower, 25 meters high. It was built in the middle of the XII century, and it was one of the oldest stone buildings in Scandinavia. I always warmed the idea that our church Kolozha the high bank of the Neman also dates CRI century. And when I arrived, I went to the Kolozhi, went inside and touched her built-in wall of large stones … Grodno and Kolozha impart strength to write again. "
Sergei Astraviec. The towers along the sea
If rain falls in Stockholm in Visbyu sun is shining, proud to Gotlyande. He is like a resort south of the northern capital, to which it is easy to sail by ferry, pointed toes, as supersonic aircraft, with a huge letter G on the board.
Rains Gotlyand also do not pass by. Yadalni stand in a window on the church and the sea, the Swedes Fredrik Keep not surprising: the rain that ran out of the blue, cuts almost horizontally. This even he has not seen. Hence, the clouds are heavy at all po-nad roofs, sank almost to the towers, and the strong sea breeze shakes them out of the water. We talk with Frederick of the classics.
Our Polish colleagues wrote the book "on edenyu" cooking. Always be wise over the course of a single person, of course, to write an extra paragraph. And we are in a hurry so as not to waste time. Fredrik upset with a smile said, ashamed before him and pours the pan leather asnezhanyya meatballs. Something about this is, of course, invent a book about the dishes, but you do not have enough imagination.
If in the old town with low roofs of defensive walls rain seems to last a better mood: chimneys chickens on the windowsill lit table lamps. Like the ancestors of these people are trying to keep warm, salted Seaver sleeves in the walls, the spirits of the old merchant marine of the city on the seven winds.
House of Writers
If Visbyu quiet autumn sun seems to be a lull between the storm. Usually home track for days. Under my window with four ropes attached blue banner announcing: writers stop here. It pulls all the time and hits the wall. Or rinse our flag litaratski, or sail, and can at the same time — two in one.
House on the hill just like a ship on its hind legs in a raised sea, the storm is about to rip the anchor, tear off the coast, will throw waves sucked into the sea — far away from the shore. Waves pulled, pushed, squeezed in his arms, crush, crumple. At night, begin to sound walls and ceiling, evoking ancient mention of the country house. But again, the thought of a wooden ship that creak with rheumatism, but does not grumble, because it is — his life.
Sheep and Sheep
Sheep, sheep, sheep krutarogiya. They are everywhere. Svetlasheryya stand in the gate towers, along sidewalks, a whole flock encounter front of the residence of the local bishop, the doors of which the stone coat of arms.
Sheep on the color of the flag on flyagshtokah. Uskryleny ram is very pretty accustomed to ekslibryse — the embl
em of the house of writers. Yes, recalling the well-known Pegasus.
Sheep do not look flashy, like sheep, they are less visible: a modest head drooping. Needless to say, that the sheep you meet more often in the cobbled lanes of?
Sheep and rams in the windows in the walls of the Old City: stone, porcelain, plush, knitted. In stores, the door on the street a lot of things from sheep's wool.
And I've seen them as you have seen live! Unfortunately, we did not stop to take pictures: they were standing along the road — white, gray, black, and still more reminiscent of porcelain in a display case, painted by hand. We passed by, they chewed their autumn grass. They were at home, if not the masters, it is almost a deity of local importance, sentries on the streets and at the gate, fetish, advertising bait.
I'm glad that I'm here, I think about people and their ancestors who created the city, built a wall around it with high towers, to me comes the realization that the sheep with a sheep — not an accident within the walls, in the sense that they have not stopped completely choice someone on one of them allegedly failing to reach a consensus. After all, they — the two sides of the same coin. Sheep — hardworking, unpretentious, tolerable for them, thorough, well-being held the position of commercial space on the sea crossroads. A sheep — what to think long when they are standing at the gate towers — is stubborn defenders Visbyu.
This northern city of animalism, Scandinavian, Maritime. Thus for any island sheep — the output can even be saved, as long as the grass grew. Nebarachki — they and the food and supplies: milk, meat, fat, cheese, wool, as well as sweaters, handkerchiefs, hats, felt shoes, blankets, covers. Thus for any island, but here, in Gotlyande in Visbyu they do everywhere.
A glass of red
Below me in a room on the first floor of the Greek Theo. He translates from German and his wife of Grodno. There, he was three times: once in the summer and two — in the winter, when it is more like it — the snow and everything connected with it. Summer — hot. Yes, it is hard to breathe, as the humidity. To us it is also too well known.
Cloudy day, but the window in Theo disclosed an hour and a big tall glass of it. First, it is half full, then it was at the bottom, even a trace of red wine later in the day just guessed. All the time was seen near bottle of red wine, until it got dark.
The window looks in one street, through which tourists usually come to the temple to the marketplace and beyond — to the sea. They have just gone through the tower with a gate to the front of the window Theo collapse. Everyone who goes, can not see with a glass bottle — a small exhibition of Theo.
Is it worth adding that it is almost flopping local customs? No, just put on the windows — on examination — is a strong tradition, almost no windows, which would have been empty. But the bottle of wine, you will not see. It is true that occasionally come across glasses, but they have — dry grass, flower — no bouquet.
Now in the Theo lamp is lit, it works. When I walk by, then show a five-fold — hello, he says. He delivers the sheer pleasure of being in their current location, and to see him at work. Curly black head and round glasses. Sometimes the machine go out of the alley and illuminate his headlights.
In Grodno Visbyu there is general: they stayed kings. "Wine House" and the royal "House of calf skin" in Visbyu — two names for the tower. Initially the wine. This Baltica, it was expensive, and you could earn. With his ships transported in barrels in a wine cellar to taste. White, sometimes sour, delivered from the German lands, sweet — from the Greek, savory — from Spain and Portugal, the last of France — red, which cost naydarazhey. As for me, I bought myself the last straw color Cyprus. On an island in the cold sea really feel strongly its value.
From a local legend that this house is built King Birger Magnusson. He asked the City Council modest piece of land in order to pay less, the land beyond the walls of the cost. One that will cover the calf hide, will be enough — the king promised. But ordered the crap out of hides cords, tie and outline the range — the area has turned out that it is necessary. But Visbyu to doubt: this is not a joke medieval?
As for the king, he really existed and stayed in the "house wine", but then diverge version: whether he attacked the island in 1313, or simply hiding in Visbyu? It is known, however, that he really ran on Gotlyand, but then sailed to Denmark — to emigrate, and it has happened with the Kings.
The windows of the city outside the walls — a museum display cases, everyone decides — to offer on display to tourists, passers-by. But look in the windows though inconvenient, is that peripheral vision. Mina black old house: a small square windows with shutters at a height above his head at you. On the left is a light — on the walls of wooden crates look like old men. You turn his head in the right stelyazhy with books, wooden, warm wood color with a medium brown. Snugly so the street is narrow, narrow, once you get on the market square.
The path along the cliff with houses that look out onto a tiled roof below the ruined walls of the church, and on the sea, the sea! In one house a small business room: painting on the wall, stretchers, table, kitchenette on the left, between them a narrow stelyazh, it book. It is felt that the master comes only occasionally, may Capital artist.
Near the Botanical Garden at the corner of King Olaf street in the book, the book, the whole wall, a library. But most of all their in-house writers and translators.
How strange in a place where there is no wind. Sea is almost entirely benign, but unstable wave is incident, as always rhythmically on the rocks near the waterfront.
It is constantly changing, every time spynyaessya the window, evaluating color. When were all warm days, it seemed less clear and, interestingly, is not viewed particularly the horizon, it has not been defined, the sea mingled with the sky. Now sunny but vyatrysty day, deep-blue sea, such a long time not seen. And what happens as the molten tin.
Often the sea is taken spots, elongated, darker svyatleyshy, and not necessarily one might think at the shadows of the clouds. The difference in temperature, the ebb-tide? I do not know. A person is also different — from the cold, biting wind, the heat from the alcohol.
You see how long floats on the sea white ship — on the border of the horizon. My first thought — a man always wants on board as soon as possible to the coast, especially the storm. Second, if the bank is waiting for the assault, high walls, cuirassiers with lit knuts with guns? It is better to sit on the barrels of wine, you will all be happy.
Ritual: To evaluate the window when the sea is rough, — that we have today? — Or run to the bank whitecaps as far arise, or frequent, which in magnitude? Went sfilmavav wave came unexpectedly: the sea just black.