Akhmatova

The night before our visit to Anna Akhmatova's third storey flat at the Sheremetev Palace situated on the Fontanka Canal, I re-read some of her poetry.

There are the two opus works - "Requiem" and "Poem Without a Hero" - but also a number of shorter verses which I've always loved.

For instance ...

It was a strange coincidence being met at the door by a big, red Russian cat. Once we were welcomed in, the kotchka rushed to the fireplace where it curled up after a long night of (I suspect) rat catching.

The rooms you move through represent different stages of the poet's life. There is a room dedicated to the wild, avante-garde days in the 1910s in which Akmatova spearhead the Acmeist School which included other celebrated poets such as Osip Mandelshtam and Alexander Blok.

There are posters of poetry readings by her contemporary, Natalia Goncharova, as well as photos of other artists and writers of the day at the "Stray Dog" night club.

There is a particularly beautiful fly cover on display of Akmatova's collection, "Evening" designed by Modigliani as well as many hand-written drafts of her early poems to see.






As you progress deeper into the apartment you witness Akhmatova's fortunes change ... mainly for the worse. Other residents are moved into the house. She and her family are bullied, threatened and informed upon to the authorities. But as personal hardship increases within the walls of her home, so does the complexity and range of her poetry.


There are articles from the newspapers condemning her poetry - and a particularly nasty attack on her by Leon Trotsky. On display are her original letters to Stalin unsuccessfully begging for the release of her ex-husband, Gumilev, who was executed for treason.

The imprisonment of her son brought with it a huge change in the character of her poetry, away from highly polished lyricism and personal themes of the early period to robust, agonizing verse dealing with the suffering of a whole nation under Stalin.

The draft of "Requiem" can be found in the room just before you leave the Akhmatova house ...

I. INSTEAD OF A PREFACE

In the terrible years of the Yezhov terror, I spent seventeen months in the prison lines of Leningrad.

Once, someone “recognized” me. Then a woman with bluish lips standing behind me, who l of course, had never heard me called by name before, woke up from the stupor to which everyone had succumbed and whispered in my ear (everyone spoke in whispers there):

“Can you describe this?” And I answered, “Yes, I can.”
Then something that looked like a smile passed over what had once been her face.


For me what a poem like "I Taught Myself to Live Simply" teaches us is something akin to what is ultimately contained in "Requiem" : the need to develop resilience.

Walk to tire worries, celebrate nature and the changing of the seasons, stroke a cat, meditate on nature and the changing seasons as a necessary distraction to the troubles - and horrors - life can present.

On my last day in St.Petersburg I walked the whole afternoon along the Fontanka, sad for having to leave the city, thankful for what Akhmatova - and St. Petersburg - had gifted me.

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