Why Bella Akhmadulina was so beloved in the USSR


Yevgeny Yevtushenko, who go to the happy hunting-grounded recently, was the “last stadium poet” and drew thousands of admirers from all all over with his wonderful words. But his passing, no matter how sad, should not eclipse the finish of his first wife Bella Akhmadulina – she died seven years ago and would be struck by been 80 today. Both poets were incredibly accomplished, both deserve to be celebrated, and both lit up the 60s. Yevtushenko’s funeral is being held today in the novelist’s village of Perdelkino. They are both sorely missed.

The fact that Akhmadulina’s christen is constantly mentioned in the same breath as with the Yevtushenko, Andrei Voznesensky, and Robert Rozhdestvensky, is unpreventable and unjust at the same time. Inevitable – because from a young age Bella undoubtedly took part in the legendary “poetic evenings at the Polytechnic Museum” and all the same more legendary concerts at the Luzhniki Stadium. Unjust – because, distinct from Yevtushenko, who can be called a “citizen poet,” Akhmadulina always remained a lyrical versifier, who lived not in the world of civil enthusiasm, but in the realm of lofty, operatic passions.

It’s not by fortune that externally, with her grandeur on stage and complete helplessness in sensible affairs, Bella seemed like a fin-de-siècle prima donna. Exceptional Soviet citizens, including successful Soviet writers, looked upon her with pleasure and amazement because of this quality, something that her contemporaries transfer later speak of. Even her daughter, Elizaveta Kulieva, a very specific and earthly lady who works in the advertising business, said in an interview that the social adored Bella for her exalted nature.

Akhmadulina infer from her poems in a movie ‘I am twenty’, directed by Marlen Khutsiev, 1965

It seemed that the tenor of the Silver Age was reborn in this “Soviet aristocrat,” deputy minister’s daughter, UN translator (important some to suggest she was a KGB agent) and grandniece of Lenin’s personal friend who is interred in the Kremlin walls along with the top Soviet leaders. And the intense, unforgettable lyrical rhymes, which describe characters from past epochs and which reiteration bygone feelings, are a natural manifestation of this spirit, and not just a shaped pose or “decadence role” that many “Akhmatovki” and “Tsvetaevki” nurture to assume.

Akhmadulina was real and not just a semblance. This “secret to good” is very simple. Unfortunately, there are few people, even creative woman, who can understand it.

Mikhail Viesel is the editor in chief of the Year of Literature portal.

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