Incredibly rich language as one would expect from a titan of verse. Clarence Brown places Mandalstam in the tradition of Gogol, which I find interesting. The influence of Chekhov and Ibsen are also predominant.

The poet notes in the opening pieces how he stumbled into the chaos of the Jewish tradition amidst the brocaded orchestration of Petersburg. The theme of estrangement and wonder is common, perhaps suggesting an imposition of distance, an anthropological reserve. Whatever the cause, the results are amazing: musky portraits of drawing rooms and studies, veritable cabinets of curiosities.

The concluding section detailing his time in Armenia was commissioned to keep the poet on the good side of the NKVD. It didn’t work. One can easily surmise from Mandalstam that the worker’s paradise was a shame built on the terror of mob rule by other means. His preference for Muslim felt slippers speaks volumes in a human economy based on utility. Highly recommended.

"È terribile pensare che la nostra vita sia un romanzo senza trama e senza protagonista, fatta di vuoto e di vetro, dell'ardente balbettio di sole digressioni, del delirio influenzale di Pietroburgo."

"He had a kind of feral relationship to literature, as if it were the only source of animal warmth."

I will be pulling this one up and over me again.