CHAPTER 1
Writing 'for the Joy of It': Seamus Heaney and Osip Mandelstam
The people need poetry that will be their own secret
to keep them awake forever,
and bathe them in the bright-haired wave
of its breathing.
â Osip Mandelstam, â355â1
To wrench our age out of prison
A flute is needed
To connect the sections
Of disarticulated days ...
â Osip Mandelstam, âMy Timeâ2
This is how poems help us live.
They match the meshes in the sieve
Life puts us through; they take and give
Our proper measure
And prove themselves more transitive
When they give pleasure.
â Seamus Heaney3
None of the East European poets captivates Seamus Heaneyâs imagination more powerfully than the Russian Osip Mandelstam (1891â1938). The title of this chapter borrows the expression to write âfor the joy of itâ from Heaneyâs poem âStation Islandâ: it is a piece of advice that Heaney imagines Mandelstam gives to him.4 Heaney first read about Mandelstamâs astonishingly tragic fate as a poet under Stalin during the 1920s and 1930s in Nadezhda Mandelstamâs memoir Hope Against Hope (1971).5 As collections of Mandelstamâs poetry followed in various translations and after reading Clarence Brownâs biography, Heaney became a devotee of the poet and his work. By 1987 he reviewed the principal texts by and about Mandelstam in English.6 By 1995, when he won the Nobel Prize, Heaney attributed a significant area of his poetic development to the Russian poet. Speaking of his own âpredicamentâ â that of a poet in a time of public violence and expectation â as âpunyâ compared to the âtragic logic of Osip Mandelstamâs fateâ and alluding in that context to his own migration from Northern Ireland to the Republic, Heaney said, âI was longing for [...] a way of crediting poetry without anxiety or apologyâ.7 The âterritories that lie in betweenâ the âextremesâ of âsufferingâ and âsongâ,8 which Heaney traverses as he ponders the work of Mandelstam during the 1980s, are of interest here. In articulating his role as a poet in the title poem in Station Island (1984), where he aimed to âprobe the validityâ of his âcommitmentâ, Heaney expressed, in poetry, the âtension [...] between two often contradictory commands: to be faithful to the collective historical experience and to be true to the recognitions of the emerging selfâ.9 The Irish poet says that the âadviceâ Mandelstam might have given him was to âwrite | for the joy of itâ. In other words, Heaney says that although the conclusion of his poem (section XII) is indebted to Dante, Eliot, and Joyce in respect of its form, it âis finally in debt to Mandelstam for what it saysâ.10 Influence then is here understood as Heaneyâs âdebt to Mandelstamâ.
In the Irish poetâs view Mandelstamâs work âsponsors all over again the Keatsian proposition that beauty is truth, truth beautyâ.11 Such a concept of poetry â an extended formulation of âart for artâs sakeâ12 â is closest to Heaneyâs intuitive creative self. I argue that it is precisely because of this concept that Mandelstam captivates and influences Heaney. Mandelstamâs particular kind of âtruthâ and his particular kind of âbeautyâ arise from testing the meaning of beauty against history, thus investing the Keatsian affirmation with a social relevance.13 In defining truth as beauty, beauty as truth after he absorbs Mandelstamâs work, Heaney extends the ânotion of what art can encompassâ14 and brings East European and Western poetics into meaningful dialogue.15
Heaneyâs prose pieces on Mandelstam, âFaith, Hope and Poetryâ, âOsip and Nadezhda Mandelstamâ, and the two essays both poets wrote on Dante (Heaneyâs aforementioned âEnvies and Identificationsâ and Mandelstamâs âConversation about Danteâ)16 furnish the main ideas discussed in this chapter. The Mandelstam presented is, therefore, âHeaneyâs Mandelstamâ. The idea of the âcompellingly wiseâ poem that Heaney spells out in his Nobel lecture can be traced to Mandelstamâs concept of poetry as âremedyâ for the peopleâs â âliving heartsâ â;17 we can follow this development as Heaney tests the truth of his poetics in view of Mandelstam in his prose pieces in The Government of the Tongue (1988) and The Redress of Poetry (1995). Furthermore, his poem âExposureâ,18 which alludes to Mandelstamâs âTristiaâ,19 prefigures a poetics that will be fully articulated at the end of âStation Islandâ. In these texts, where âlanguageâ is given the status of âa poetâs faithâ,20 we see how Heaney, in the process of his reading of Mandelstam, expands the scope of lyric poetry to become socially responsive and responsible. For Mandelstam, the âfluteâ is an instrument used to âwrench our age out of prisonâ and poetry is a âsecretâ that keeps people âawake foreverâ.21 The âsurpriseâ of the âcompellingly wiseâ poem, Heaney tells us in his Nobel lecture, should be âtransitive, like the impatient thump which unexpectedly restores the picture on the television set, or the electric shock which sets the fibrillating heart back to its proper rhythmâ.22 It is by expanding the Keatsian proposition in a sense closer to Mandelstam, to include the âtransitive surpriseâ of the poem, that Heaney can âcredit marvelsâ, thereby allowing himself to be âdazzledâ and his âheart to lightenâ.23
Heaneyâs engagement with Mandelstam is a reflection of his own need to confirm poetic values to himself; in the poetâs words, he turned to the âgreat masters of the pastâ for an âimage of [his] own creationâ, which reflects his âown imaginative needsâ, his âartistic inclinations and proceduresâ.24 The poetics Heaney develops as a result of reading Mandelstamâs work is a poetics of exile, understanding an exile in the sense of an âinner Ă©migrĂ©â, a role embraced as part of the creative process where âsolitudes and distresses are creditableâ.25 The idea that a form of âexileâ is either needed by Heaney in order to âput the practice of poetry more at the centreâ of his âlifeâ,26 or turns into a consequence of his choice to âcredit marvelsâ, comes across in Heaneyâs âExposureâ, and in some of his prose; in his exile Heaney reaches for and responds to images of Mandelstamâs work. Yet the link to Mandelstam â the Irish poetâs predisposition towards a form of exile â also appears in Heaneyâs image of Mad Sweeney in Sweeney Astray (1983). Sweeney provides a portrait of the artist as an exile, âguilty, assuaging himself by his utteranceâ,27 in a situation where exile is creatively enabling and where poetry has a âhomeopathic benefitâ28 for him. If the Sweeney figure is enabling for Heaney in the sense of turning âexilicâ utterance into âassuagingâ utterance, Mandelstam validates the importance of a poetry of âexuberant rhythmâ, of âdisplay of metrical virtuosityâ which helps the poet and reader alike know themselves better.29 If the figure of Sweeney allows Heaney to develop the idea of poetry as remedy, Mandelstam and his work allow him to elevate this idea into a poetic principle. There is indeed in Heaneyâs development of poetics through Mandelstam a romanticized aspect of a form of exile embarked upon out of conviction, in order to write for joy.
Bernard OâDonoghue, Michael Parker, Stephen James, and Clare Cavanagh are among critics who point out affinities between Mandelstam and Heaney.30 In particular, OâDonoghue shows how the Russian poet is seminal in shaping Heaneyâs poetics in Government of the Tongue: his discussion of Heaneyâs definition of lyric language through Mandelstam is central to understanding Mandelstamâs influence on Heaney. It is important to underscore that even though Heaneyâs âdebtâ to Mandelstam can be sometimes seen in some features of Heaneyâs diction, there is mostly an influence upon Heaneyâs âartistic inclinations and proceduresâ.31 In other words, Mandelstam affected Heaneyâs view of poetic language more than the poetic language itself, though Heaney does indeed sometimes also incorporate Mandelstamâs imagery into his own poems. This is one of the reasons why it is not possible to trace elements of poetic language from Mandelstam to Heaney.
In âAn Afterthought to Translationâ in the Penguin Selected Poems, for example, Brown says that W. S. Merwin âtranslated Mandelstam into Merwinâ from the files with notes and previous translations that Brown provided.32 It is not part of my aim to trace particular uses of language from Merwin to Heaney while talking about Mandelstam (and the same holds true in relation to the other translators of Mandelstamâs poetry, James Greene, Robert Tracy, and Richard and Elizabeth McKane). Finally, though I stress certain powerful affinities and parallels between the two poets, it should be clear from the beginning that Mandelstam and Heaney belong to different times and places, have been nourished by entirely different local influences, languages, and histories, and are very different poets. I do not claim otherwise, or suggest that Heaney âidentifiesâ himself unreservedly with the figure of Mandelstam.
A 'responsible tristia': The 'inner émigré' in Heaney and Heaney's Mandelstam
Although he was born in Warsaw to a Jewish family, Mandelstam considered St Petersburg his native city because it was there that he received a good part of his education, began to write, and was first recognized as a poet. Like Florence for Dante, Petersburg remained the point of departure and return (physically and imaginatively) throughout Mandelstamâs life.33 Mandelstamâs relationship with his Russia was complicated by historical and political pressures, which affected his poetry directly. In one of the poems written in 1935, he laments:
My country conversed with me,
Spoiled me, scolded, didnât listen.
She only noticed me when,
Grown-up, I became an eye-witness.
Then suddenly, like a lens, she set me on fire
With a beam from the Admiralty square.34
His Russia was the country of Stalinâs Socialist Realist aesthetics, which made the poet an icon of the âGreat Purgeâ.35 In 1924 Iosif Stalin rose to power after Lenin died and at the First Writersâ Congress in 1932, he, Andrei Zhadonov, and Maxim Gorky drafted the first principles of Socialist Realist aesthetics. These can be summarized as prescriptions to write completely transparent literature meant to exalt the virtues of an idealized proletariat led by an all-knowing party, which was to be celebrated in the same manner that artists celebrated God (though no religious overtones were acceptable).36 The moral pressure/duty placed on the writers was tremendous: Stalin called them âengineers of the human soulâ who were meant to create a sensibility tuned to the party doctrine.37
Mandelstam, on the other hand, had âno wish to make a special effort to educate or attractâ his reader; according to Nadezhda Mandelstamâs memoir, one of his poetic ambitions (around 1934, only four years before his death...