Habibullo-Eugene Kiselev
A Synopsis of my Life
November 14th, 2017, Tuesday, 11:16:20 p.m.
Yekaterinburg, Russia. GMT 05:00
I do not often write about the things which take place at the University. However, I will do that for now.
Okay. Yesterday, as I came to my work, I gave my colleagues some sweets in the honor of my Birthday. All of them congratulated me; they pronounced clichés like “we wish you happiness in your private life”. They enjoyed my sweets, though.
Also yesterday I received a response from Eugene Lobanov, my Teacher. I have never quoted my letters here in this journal. All once happens for the first time, though.
Here is our short correspondence (translation supplied):
Eugene Kiselev:
“Hello, Eugene Yuryevich!
I have just read your response at the website of the “Village library and reading room”. Thank you. Though, we will not talk about it for now. I have once told you I was an actor, a performer, and what I am was just an image. A momentary image. I live with those images and I try them on like masquerade masks. Carnivals, extravaganzas, shows, or performances are all about my life. In his immortal play “As you Like It”, William Shakespeare wrote:
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.
(Act II, Scene VII)
Though, this is not quite what I am talking about. Evidently, Shakespeare meant that we play our SOCIAL roles such as, for example, a worker, a husband, a father, etc. However, my situation is quite different. I sometimes think that I do not exist as an individual; rather, there exists a set of images, which I sometimes try on. The most vivid examples include the following facts: I several times changed my religion; also, I have changed a great lot of jobs, again trying them on. These are images. IMAGES. I play my part, and then I forget about it. Yet another example: my marriage, family life and divorce are A THEATER PRODUCTION from beginning to end.
This, no doubt, reflects on my poetry, if it can be called thus… You have told me many times that I had to find myself, my poetic voice, etc. What if I do NOT really exist? What if this is so? You have once compared me to Eugenia Izvarina that she wrote in a style of the Silver Age of Russian poetry and that she was an IMAGE, not herself. So, what if I do not exist? Once you said that in “The Toy Has Died” I was “seen as an author”. So, I thought, “What if this is also an IMAGE of mine, hitherto unknown to you?”
Eugene Yuryevich, it is now time I sorted all things out and decided where to go. If this does not happen, I will not be able to progress as a poet and as a creative person in general.
I hope for your understanding and advice of master and Teacher.
Yours truly,
Eugene Kiselev”
Eugene Lobanov:
“The more you doubt, the less you will attain. Izvarina plays roles of the Silver Age; you add something else to it. These are your peculiarities. Play different roles, in the end you will sort it all out, which one is better for you. Speaking about ‘The Toy”, it has the warmth, it appears to have been written. Other poems have much less emotions. Add emotions, and then the people will feel it and they will accept your poetry. Do what you can do. If you begin a poem, finish with it, if you begin a translation, finish with it as well. Go forward.”
Reading other people’s letters is not considered good. However, as Professor Ivan Mikhailovich Klimenko (Ukrainian: Клименко Іван Михайлович), the ex-dean of the Department of History of the USPU said, “This is allowed from the historical point of view”. Historical? Well… I hope I will become part of History someday. I believe I will. Though, may great Clio, Calliope, Erato, Euterpe, and Thalia hold sway in this field.
Okay. Today I went to the bookstore named “Dom Knigi” (English: “The House of Books”) to offer them “A White Raven” for sale. As I came, I met Julia Sivkova (Russian: Юлия Сивкова), a goods manager of this store. We had a short conversation about my work, my interests and so forth. Afterwards, she began to scrutinize my book all way through; she literally tried to get at the meaning of each word. Of course, “Wisdom of Islam” begot a great many of discussions and doubts. She told me they were supposed to check literally every single letter in every single book they are taking for sale. I even had an impression that she was taken aback by my sequence of Islamic poetry, especially when I said that the foreword for this sequence had been written by a Muslim priest. There was such a to-do about all that! Julia Sivkova said she would consult the director of the store, and that the final decision would be taken on Thursday.
Why on Earth are the people afraid of each other? We are scared of our neighbors. We always expect, that someone will frame us, hurt us physically, fleece, sting or swindle us or do us any harm. Why is this happening? Why? Evidently, there are reasons for that. Is not it better to live in Peace, Love and Harmony, to trust one another and to love each other like brothers? LOVE is what this world is all about. These words are old and maybe even obsolete, out-of-date, outmoded and even out of the ark, but what can be more truthful and accurate?
Ad: