By Alexander Vvedensky
“Pussy rebellion are Vvedensky's disciples and his heirs. Katya, Masha, and that i are in penitentiary yet I don’t ponder that we’ve been defeated.... in response to the respectable document, Alexander Vvedensky died on December 20, 1941. We don’t understand the reason, no matter if it was once dysentery within the educate after his arrest or a bullet from a defend. It used to be someplace at the railway line among Voronezh and Kazan. His precept of ‘bad rhythm’ is our personal. He wrote: ‘It occurs that rhythms will come into your head, an excellent one and a foul one and that i decide upon the undesirable one. it is going to be definitely the right one.’ ... it really is believed that the OBERIU dissidents are lifeless, yet they continue to exist. they're persecuted yet they don't die.” — Pussy insurrection [Nadezhda Tolokonnikova’s remaining assertion at their
trial in August 2012]
“I raise[d] my hand opposed to concepts,” wrote Alexander Vvedensky, “I enacted a poetic critique of reason.” This weirdly and fantastically philosophical poet used to be born in 1904, grew up in the middle of struggle and revolution, and reached his creative adulthood as Stalin used to be twisting the which means of phrases in gruesome and deadly methods. Vvedensky—with Daniil Kharms the key determine within the short–lived underground avant-garde staff OBERIU (a neologism for “the union for genuine art”)—responded with a poetry that explodes strong that means into shimmering streams of provocation and invention. A Vvedensky poem is sort of a loopy social gathering choked with theater, movie, magic tips, jugglery, and feasting. Curious characters seem and disappear, euphoria retains corporation with depression, outrageous assertions result in epic shouting fits, and maybe all of it breaks off with one lonely individual making a song a song.
A Vvedensky poem doesn’t make an announcement. it's an occasion. Vvedensky’s poetry was unpublishable in the course of his lifetime—he made a residing as a author for kids earlier than loss of life less than arrest in 1942—and he continues to be the least recognized of the good twentieth-century Russian poets. this is often his first publication to seem in English. The translations via Eugene Ostashevsky and Matvei Yankelevich, striking poets of their personal correct, are as astonishingly alert and alive because the originals.