Life after Life

Taboos which have endured for millennia have tumbled with bewildering ease over the last 50 years. Sex, the eternal unmentionable, has emerged from the closet and now suffuses our days from the rising of the sun to its setting; religion, once a topic to avoid in polite company, is now proclaimed and derided in equal measure in newspaper columns and street demonstrations. But one taboo remains. It surrounds the most feared and absolute certainty in life – death. 

But should we be really afraid of death? Since the first man appeared on earth, he would look at the night sky asking himself questions about life, its meaning and what constitutes the universe. That first wondering moment was the instant when philosophy was born. It was born together with man and his mind, capable of apprehending and processing more information than any other inhabitant on the planet. We still catch ourselves observing nature, its laws, trying to comprehend who we are and what is our nature. 

 My own belief is that everything started with the sun, Ra, the major god in ancient Egypt, the creator, the source of all life on this planet. Homo Sapiens, the thinking man, started observing how the day would start and end, the sun rise and set. And since those first stirrings of time, next to nothing has changed. New life appears like the sun at dawn, it reaches its bloom at the midday and then slowly fades away until this life, devoid of vitality, fades into the complete darkness of the night, in the darkness of the Universe. It soon became clear that death was an inevitable part of life. It has always been understood by all humans and yet never fully accepted. 

We still live like there is no end, as if death was designed for anyone but us or people we’re close to. Like that first primitive man looking at the bright stars on a cloudless night we still raise our heads to the heavens (note the euphemism/imagery) looking for an answer to the main question – is there anything beyond death? Or better: Is there a life after life? 

 If we think about death, the first question that comes into our mind is surely: what is death? And what does it really mean to die? Can our death be described only as the process of decomposition? Can death be only explained as the termination of life? Or do we have to consider that a person is more than just a body? In these questions we reach one of the most debated questions of Western philosophy: is there a soul? 

 There are two main schools of thought on the existence of the soul. The first says there is no soul; a person is just a body with a certain array of functions, such as our emotions, creativity and the ability to process information – and all that does not come from the outside, rather than from the inside, our mind. And when a person dies, his heart stops pumping blood and the blood doesn’t reach the brain, then the “mind” dies together with the body. The brain – they contend - should not be confused with the mind. The human brain is a part of the body that is the house of our “mind”. And while the mind is destroyed by death the brain is still there intact but inert. This is the materialist point of view. It is the view shared and accepted by probably the majority of writers on science and medicine. 

 While materialists believe that life terminates together with the termination of all the vital processes in the body and the separation of the brain and the mind, the dualists believe death to be the moment of separation between the body and the soul. The main difference between the two, then, lies in how they view the “mind”. While materialists believe our mind to be a product of our brain activity represented by an array of different functions, the dualists say the mind is essentially the soul, an immaterial object, something that is breathed into the physical body by God. The body is animated by the soul. Christian theologians go further and define the soul as the home of the memory, the intellect and the will. 

The dilemma that automatically arises from the comparison of these two opinions – if the materialists view death as the separation between the brain and the mind doesn’t it mean that the mind is something that comes from the outside “to activate the apparatus” – our body? 

This difficulty of understanding the difference between the mind and the soul is highly misleading. I would even dare say that the materialists are contradicting their own theory but not willing to admit it. Official science has not yet proved the existence of the soul. But neither can it demonstrate the soul’s non-existence! The question clearly cannot be framed in scientific terms. 

But there are areas of human brain activity which may give us a key to understanding the eternal questions - such as telepathy, premonition, the ability to penetrate “parallel worlds” (I am mostly talking about connections with the dead), and the most mysterious - those near-death experiences which are not easily explained or felt by all the 5 senses. 

 It takes a lot of courage for me to confess that I personally have experienced all of these paranormal brain activities. I would however prefer to leave a veil over the details of what happened. But I can testify that everything you have heard about near death experiences is true. Nonetheless despite their denial of the existence of the soul, a lot of scientists, neurosurgeons and psychiatrists are fascinated when it comes to the visions of a person whose heart stops beating. Some of them call the visions of the paradise a “mind game” caused by the lack of the oxygen. Others (a very limited group) suppose that these visions are nothing but the direct proof of the afterlife, and therefore the existence of the soul. 

Serious research in this field started in the 1970s. In 1975 an American psychiatrist Raymond Moody published a world bestseller entitled “Life after Life” that shook the foundations of official science. The book represented a summary of his interviews with 150 people who had undergone near-death experiences. The “witnesses of death” for the first time openly shared their stories, while in scientific circles the question of the material nature of the soul was raised once again. 

This question has been the main research subject for some of the most prominent minds of the last century, such as Vladimir Bechterev and his granddaughter Natalia Bechtereva and even a group of psychiatrists lead by Carl Jung. Vladimir Bechterev’s thoughts on immortality of the soul are still of great interest, especially the mystery permeating his most famous words: “There is no death, gentlemen”. 

 Another worldwide bestseller that deserves our attention is a near death experience narrated by Harvard neurosurgeon Alexander Eben “A Proof of Heaven”. Eben’s brain was infected with a ferocious E. coli meningitis which almost took his life and plunged him into a week-long coma. The interest of this book is not in the description of the afterlife itself, but rather the description of it by a scientist. As a sceptical neurosurgeon, Eben can judge both materialistic and the dualist positions on the question of death. Therefore his story about “magic butterflies and the birds singing in heaven” must count as a significant support to the idea that our life does not end the moment our heart stops pumping blood. 

Should we be really afraid of death if it’s an essential and unavoidable part of life? Should we be afraid of death if death is nothing but a change of destinations? Or as the words of the Catholic Mass have it – “vita mutatur, non tollitur” – life is changed not ended. Neither I, nor any human being, nor any library of books can give you a universal answer to all the existing questions. 

My experience of death however has taught me one precious lesson which I feel I must share with you. Those who have seen the “afterlife”, have felt the magic of a place, a state, where the happiness you feel cannot be defined by such earthly words as “happiness” or “bliss”. Indeed, there are no words to describe such a place, simply because there is no such place here on earth and there is nothing that can compare to it (no not even love or sex!) But before you reach such unearthly happiness, before you enter the place which you will never want to leave, before all that –there is one piece of advice that surely we can all share - you must live! This is the best lesson I have ever been given in my life: value every moment of your life as a precious treasure. Your life is priceless, your life is a gift. And when you realize that your life is just a brief moment that might not even last until tomorrow, ironically you become truly happy.

Should we be really afraid of death, the final taboo? My answer is a resounding “no”. Do not be afraid of death. Be afraid only of not having lived.

*All rights reserved. This material may not be published, rewritten or redistributed in whole or part without a permission.

ANNA KARENINA and IRENE FORSYTE: so similiar yet so diffirent

Women in literature: some are pretty, some are kind, a few may possess virtues; there are witches and there are saints, mothers and lovers, and not much more.

Female characters were – historically - all too often presented and viewed by most male authors in stereo-typical straitjackets. Their images were plain, stale and almost lifeless, they were rarely viewed in all their complexity. They provided a decorative contour to the plot, or a brush-stroke of colour to the setting. Women made secondary appearances, leaving to the male characters the roles of importance and weight.

So it was until authors such as Leo Tolstoy came along with his  “Anna Karenina” and John Galsworthy with his “Forsyte Saga”. These two authors had the audacity to put a woman centre stage and made of her a complex and interesting character around which the whole story evolves. They revolutionized the whole literary world that finally accepted the idea of a woman as an independent figure that could be - and was - of greater interest than the male characters.

Whatever our personal attitude may be towards Anna Karenina and Irene Forsyte we cannot deny that these are two of the most fascinating female characters in literature. Anna and Irene are both stunning, brilliant, irresistible, aristocratic women who contrast with everyone else. They move with grace, they talk politely, they look at you lovingly, they shine in company and are able to talk about anything. Their beauty is never vulgar nor too evident; their faces are painted beautiful with a subtle hue, showing only a peek of the true beauty of the gentle soul. But despite the outward impression of being seemingly calm and reserved, both women have a burning fire of passion hidden deep within that tears them apart. It is exactly that desperate contradiction between  social duty and the heart’s pulsating passion that makes the characters so challenging for Tolstoy and Galsworthy to create and so attractive to the reader to discover..

Each story has the same beginning: a young girl, left without money, unhappy and desperate accepts the offer of marriage from an older wealthy man, without ever loving him. The husbands Alexei Karenin and Soames Forsyte both move in high society, important and influential figures. Both husbands are described as devoted and loyal to their wives, but lacking passion and obvious expressions of love. Both are more than happy to spend money on Anna and Irene, giving them expensive jewelry or building houses, but no outlay of cash can leave the women content or happy. Both marriages seem to be prefect on the outside: a rich man possessing a young, gorgeous wife, but the relationships are fatally flawed.

The characters of Anna and Irene, though, seduce by their complexity. These are no bodice-ripping adulteresses. The longing they feel is no superficial pleasure hunt but rather a developed spirituality and a gnawing lust for beauty that is beyond the understanding of their husbands. No amount of expensive gifts or the pleasures of being in high society can leave them content. Their needs, hidden inside the dark, hot, unexplored embers of their souls go beyond anything material or superficial.

This sensual and spiritual ache is something that neither Soames nor Alexei are able to perceive; it is something unattainable and unimaginable for such men. Anna and Irene, young and beautiful, have a strong desire for passion and romantic love that they had never experienced.

Thus it comes to pass that Anna meets Count Vronsky who is courting her friend and a family relation Kitty Tscherbatskaya. And Irene meets a young architect, Philip Bossiney, a fiancé of her dear friend and relative Jules Galsworthy. Both Anna and Irene, visibly in love with these men, however make serious attempts at refusing them. But both stories are very similar: the passion is so overpowering that soon after they start extramarital affairs.

Neither Alexei Vronsky nor Philip Bossiney seem to have any moral scruples about breaking their previous engagements or breaking a family.

While Irene’s love for Bossiney can be described as spiritual and based on common interests in the first place, Anna’s love of Vronsky is more carnal, based mainly on passion. “Looking at him she felt physically humiliated and couldn’t speak. He felt what only a murderer could feel when he sees the lifeless body.” From the very beginning of their affair, the love between Anna and Vronsky is perceived as something dangerous and impure. It is as if like the horse with the broken spine that he shoots, Vronsky breaks also the structural core of  Anna’s life and in  consequence her life will have to end as well.

It is here perhaps that we see the biggest difference between the two women: while Irene fulfills her desires by finding her soulmate, Anna ends up with a seducer who believes himself to be in love but disappoints her expectations and ruins her life.

As we penetrate the novels we see how Alexei Karenin is more bothered with his image and his family status than by the betrayal itself. In an astounding insight into upper-class morality Tolstoy exposes how Alexei sees it as disrespectful to himself to be jealous of Anna. It bothers and irritates her: “I would respect him more if he killed Vronsky, if he killed me.”

Soames on the other hand does everything possible to vindicate himself with Bossiney and ruins him with a lawsuit. Galsworthy calls him “the man of property”. This is exactly how Soames sees Irene – his legal property. And to prove the right to his possession he uses her for his sexual needs without her consent. Soames is the opposite of the gentleman Alexei – as he fails to conquer Irene’s heart his love turns into madness.

While Karenin does his best to ignore the harm and the public humiliation and even agrees to divorce, Soames follows his obsession with Irene that makes of him a miserable man. Soames, consumed by his unreciprocated love, siezes every possibility to approach Irene. But he fails in all his attempts, always wondering how he deserved to experience such hatred and disrespect.

I confess I have always pitied these two men for what they must have experienced. They both behaved at times more than respectfully, loving and forgiving their wives no matter what. They both would have accepted their return and would have loved them even more than before.

But the biggest difference between the Russian Anna and the English Irene is the attitude of the authors, their “fathers”. While Galsworthy does his best at remaining impartial, we still are more inclined to pity Irene and her loneliness after Bossiney’s death. And as the story progresses Galsworthy gives Irene another chance and her happiness is finally restored. As for Anna, Tolsoy is less merciful to her. Throughout the whole novel he opposes her unholy, impure love to Vronsky to his ideal love that he creates between Kitty and Levin (little Leo- the one who expresses his ideas). Tolstoy views the passion that consumed Anna as something diabolic, a spiritual death that could only end with physical death.

And while Galsworthy seeks happiness for Irene (whose story was inspired by his own wife), and keeps on punishing Soames with all the unhappy events that come his way, Tolstoy is more complex in his analysis of the main character.

Undeniably Anna is nobler than Irene. She despises herself for having an affair, she despises her husband for forgiving her, she despises Vrosnky for not understanding her nature and she despises the judgmental society in which she is entombed. It is only as we look anew at the picture that Tolstoy so masterfully painted with words, we finally see how beautifully complex Anna is. And that her complexity, her Russian-ness creates the biggest difference. This is why she, looking for forgiveness, throws herself under the train and Irene, having no scruples about the broken marriage and the broken lives of either Soames or Jules, re-establishes her happiness, finding respect and understanding of those who previously hated her.

Anna and Irene are like no other women in literature. Indeed they may have become icons for a new blossoming of female characterization. No longer are women madonnas or whores, beautiful or sinful; they are all of the above, in large part due to these magnificently complex portraits of the deep recesses of the female soul.

*All rights reserved. This material may not be published, rewritten or redistributed in whole or part without a permission.

The True Meaning of Christmas

A couple of days ago I was talking to a co-worker, who was asking me about the traditions of the Orthodox Christmas in Russia. And his questions made me think about the difference between two branches of Christianity: the Catholic Church and the Orthodox Church.

It’s been more than five years since I began celebrating a Catholic Christmas. My first Catholic Christmas I celebrated in Germany in a wonderful Frankfurt-am-Main. I remembered it dressed in rich decorations, all sparkly and merry. The Christmas markets smelled of homemade sweets, honey water and mulled wine.

The actual Christmas Eve was spent with my friend’s family where I for the first time experienced the “magical” Christmas seen in Hollywood movies. The night started with a dinner and the exchange of gifts followed by a short (one hour) service at Church. I cannot say it wasn’t beautiful: there were children singing Christmas carols and the priest held a very solemn church service. Everything looked to me very formal and carefully rehearsed. The “magic” I was expecting to experience throughout the whole night was gradually vanishing as I was observing people gathered in that church. Well-dressed, with a dutiful expression on their faces, content with having done what “was expected” of them. Everything went perfectly well: they had a perfect dinner, exchanged the perfect gifts and put the final check mark by visiting the church and blessing themselves a couple of times. Of the three ingredients the greatest attention was paid to the exchange of presents. Presents, well-chosen, hunted for and expected. The presents and their opening with all the sighing and laughing were the highlight of that Christmas Eve.

If truth be told, as I reflect on it, it left me with a very unpleasant impression of having assisted to a stage production where every role was assigned and everyone recited their part perfectly. And just like in one of those Christmas postcards that I used to spend hours gazing at, the happy family around the Christmas tree was simply a picture, an appearance. And just as you turn over the postcard and see the blank unfilled space, so did I feel that behind the smiles and apparent happy atmosphere I would find only blank unfilled souls.

After my first Catholic Christmas in Germany I would spend numerous Christmas holidays in Italy. I thought I should mention this detail, because some of you might think it was simply the typical “German coldness” which took the magic away. But I must be honest and say that Christmas holidays in Italy did not differ even a bit from what I had experienced that first time in Germany.

The Orthodox Christmas comes after New Years day, on the 7th of January. Russia became a Communist totalitarian state with the revolution of 1917 and the militant atheism imposed by the government persecuted all religious beliefs. For many years of socialism, reigning in Russia, it was absolutely illegal to either celebrate religious holidays or even baptize newborn children. The Communists destroyed thousands of churches; hundreds of thousands of priests and monks were murdered by Communist government agents. All children were forced to learn and subscribe to the religion of atheism. Most of the churches, if not destroyed, were used as libraries, youth clubs or even night clubs. Within two generations, Russia became a predominantly atheistic society. Freedom of religion was only restored after the fall of the USSR in 1991.

During the Soviet period only a few hundred churches were opened for services. However most of the priests were either imprisoned in concentration camps or found themselves without occupation and had to find another way of living. That led many people to hide their intimate family celebrations, pretending to be agnostic in the eyes of the soviet society. My grandparents formed part of that limited circle of people who managed to maintain their faith despite the best efforts of the regime. That particular moment in our history carved a deep impression on the national Russian character and it ironically would explain the renaissance of religion.

Strong religious traditions (very well known from the books of Tolstoy and Dostoevsky) and their subsequent repression during the Soviet period (thoroughly described in Pasternak’s “Doctor Zhivago”) shaped the new Church. And starting from its liberation in 1991 it has been growing stronger and stronger. The Russians are finally back to their origins, to the wellsprings of their belief. If we go back in Russian history, the contact with the divine was the most important part of their lives. Nothing started without a prayer, without asking for forgiveness. Even today I love that feeling of magic when you enter an Orthodox Church and hear the low voice of the priest, the choir singing together with the bells – those sounds bring out tears of purification resounding inside my soul.

Perhaps I seem lacking in objectivity in telling you this – maybe I’m biased! But the difference between the two celebrations of Christmas is significant. The Russian Orthodox Christmas does not celebrate the gifts that are exchanged, it celebrates the Son of God, born on that day. It celebrates the human soul and its thirst for divinity. Christmas in Russia sees families assist at the liturgy in church, teaching their children the old traditions, explaining the significance of the moment; it is followed by a family reunion and dinner of simple food. There are however no gifts given on that day to either children or adults. Everything is very simple, yet joyful.

What we are witnessing at the present moment is the steady decline of faith in Western European countries, and its renaissance on Russian territory. Year after year that feeling of “magic”, the true meaning of Christmas is gradually vanishing, finding a substitute in something that has nothing to do with the original meaning of the holiday – holy-day. We should not gather together just to eat sophisticated food or exchange expensive gifts … if that is all we do we deprive ourselves and our children of the real meaning of the feast.

The Magi travelled from the East with gifts for the Christ child.

Try for once to give sense to your Christmas this year and feel the magic, promising a new start and a new life, by looking to the East. Try to mark His birth in the manger by being re-born in your own thoughts and intentions.

That’s the true meaning of Christmas – and it is for you to bring it to birth once more.

Telepathy

Have you ever thought about a friend you haven’t heard from in a while and then received his call? Have you ever finished a sentence someone else started? Have you ever experienced anxiety, believing that something terrible happened to parents, children or a loved one? If you have, you have simply experienced reflections in a spiritual mirror – telepathy. “Mirror, mirror on the wall..” and just like in the brothers Grimm’s fairy tale we look in the mirror expecting our thoughts to reflect together with our image.

The phenomenon falls between spirituality and science, adopted by neither, suspected by both. Telepathy is an orphaned phenomenon.

The word telepathy is of Greek origin (tele means “distant” and pathe or patheia means “feeling” or “perception”). It is the transmission of information from one person to another without any physical contact between the two. Telepathy is one of those atrophied skills possessed by all humans and animals, or to be more exact – by their spirits. Again – spirits. Humans are spirits wrapped in, or suffusing bodies and not vice versa. This insight is accepted by many world faiths but its implications are rarely considered. Telepathy is the least understood implication - the ability of spirits to communicate in a non-physical manner as if you are mirroring someone else’s thoughts.

In recent times telepathic abilities have been considered either a mental disorder (such as schizophrenia) or a form of magic. People claiming to be able to connect to other spirits, see the future or the past and thus travel in time were thought to be insane and even dangerous. Since this kind of communication has nothing to do with the material world and cannot be easily analyzed, it is not seriously considered by mainstream science.

The first scientist who dared to look in the mirror of telepathic abilities and hypnosis was a Russian

neurologist Vladimir Bechterev. Bechterev’s work resulted in a breakthrough in neurological science. In 1886 he established the first laboratory of experimental psychology in Russia to study the nervous system and the structures of the brain. Later Bechterev became the head of the department of nervous and mental diseases at the Saint Petersburg Military Medical Academy. In Saint-Petersburg he continued his neurological research and started specializing in neurosurgery. The Russian scientist published over 600 papers in which he, for the first time, wrote about the experiments proving telepathic abilities.

But what was of greater interest in Bechterev’s work was his experiments designed to influence the behaviour of others from a distance – hypnosis. He started with dogs, practising his ability to influence their thoughts. His friend, a famous animal trainer, Vladimir Durov, participated in those experiments. Durov was given a list of tasks for dogs to perform, which he would transmit to them by looking in their eyes and trying to send his thoughts. Dogs, after being given a telepathic task, would perform exactly what Durov would “ask” them to do. Having achieved successful results with dogs, Bechterev continued his telepathic experiments with humans. During one of them he hypnotized a large group of people. Each of the participants was given a glass of water; Bechterev convinced them it was vodka and then asked them to drink the whole glass. After the experiment the participants said they actually felt the taste of vodka and felt drunk.

Bechterev not only laid the groundwork for neurological science, his studies in behaviourism were of immeasurable importance to the future development of psychology studies. Bechterev’s experiments in hypnosis were of great interest to the Communist party and Joseph Stalin, in particular. His strained relationship with Stalin was surely connected to his mysterious death. It is widely believed that Bechterev was poisoned on Stalin’s orders. However, according to the official report Bechterev died of “heart paralysis”. The strange relationship with Stalin would also explain why Bechterev’s son and daughter-in-law were arrested and sentenced to “10 years in prison without the right to correspondence”. Later, Bechterev’s son was executed and his wife died in the prison camp, leaving their children orphans. Bechterev’s studies in neurology were continued by his granddaughter, Natalia Bechtereva and her son Svyatoslav Medvedev.

Another important figure in science who made a significant contribution to the study of telepathy and other psychic abilities was the Soviet scientist Nikolai Kozyrev. Using his knowledge of astronomy and physics, Kozyrev invented something unique. Mirrors. He installed aluminium mirrors, creating an enclosed space in which there was a weakening of the magnetic field of the earth and which thereby provided more human access to solar and galactic information. Kozyrev’s “mirrors” were in practice two hollow, metal, person-sized tubes made of aluminium. The surface was perfectly smooth and shiny, so that it had the same reflecting properties of a mirror. Through numerous experiments using the mirrors, he focused studies in such areas as human psychophysiology, pathology of disease and health and the evolution of telepathic fields’ remote sensing.

Kozyrev’s mirrors reflect the energy of a human thought in space, where it can be stored in “the universal bank of information” or shared between “spirits”. Within the mirrors “the flow of time”— present, past and future — all exist at the same time and in every place. The scientists who worked on these experiments, including Kaznacheev and Trofimov, realized that human consciousness was enhanced when a person was placed in the mirror tube. The experiment involved two people communicating through telepathy. These two people were placed in identical mirror tubes 6 000 km apart. In the course of experiment, that involved hundreds of pairs of individuals communicating at a distance, Kaznacheev and Trofimov found that the information sent telepathically was received correctly by the participants in 95 per cent of cases.

The technique was simple. A person inside the mirrors was given symbols to project and others in different parts of the world were able to receive them. The experiments made with the apparatus invented by Kozyrev proved that distant communication was possible. This is how Trofimov defined the importance of “the mirrors”: “As we investigate brain activity – either with an electro-encephalogram or by assessing brain functions like intellect level, memory and other functions, we realize that we currently use only 5% of the capacity of our brains throughout our whole lives. And, after some time we spend inside the apparatus we see that our mind’s additional reserves and abilities are activated. We can see an increase in memory capacity, increased IQ and changing zones of electric activity of the brain”.

Another peculiar thing that happened inside “the mirrors” was the possibility of the participants “travelling” in time and space. Most of them witnessed “the time machine” effect. Just like in H. G. Wells’ novel, these people claimed to be able to go back in time and see important historic events, or they could travel to the future and foresee it. Some of these people said that they clearly saw answers to the most important questions of their lives, or saw signs of Mayan or Egyptian origin. Certain people were influenced more than others – ‘the mirrors’ revealed knowledge of foreign languages they hypothesised they once spoke in past lives.

The implication of all this is extraordinary: The human intellect, as we understand it now, is not only a tool of communication but also a peculiar cosmoplanetary phenomenon. Bechterev, Kozyrev, Kaznacheev, Trofimov and many other scientists using different approaches, proved one important thing: all beings (spirits) are interconnected not only with each other but also with the planet earth and its electromagnetic field. Everything that happens, will happen or ever happened somewhere in the universe is mirrored in a way to influence other events or other people.

Something to reflect on the next time you look in the mirror.

*All rights reserved. This material may not be published, rewritten or redistributed in whole or part without a permission.

a Love story: Anna Achmatova and Amedeo Modigliani

Of all the famous love stories the most intriguing and unclear to me remains the encounter between a Russian poet Anna Achmatova and an Italian artist Amedeo Modigliani.

This love story started in the beginning of the twentieth century in the pre-war Europe. During those years the intellectual class was starting to grow but still was very restricted due to the prevalence of the working class and inaccessibility of education. Writers, poets and artists made a very small group of people who met routinely in Paris (the world capital of art of the time).

Achmatova and Modigliani first met in Paris in 1910. It happened during her honeymoon trip with the husband, a famous Russian poet, Nikolai Gumilev. Amedeo Modigliani had moved to Paris in 1906; he was taking lessons of art, striving to gain recognition of an artist. In her diaries Modigliani’s mother often described him as a very spoiled young boy who had an angelic face and a great talent in painting. However his mother not only predicted a great career of an artist, the woman was also right about her fear of his early death.

Anna Achmatova and Amedeo Modigliani met in a very particular moment of their lives: he was an unknown Italian Jew who just moved to Paris and barely made his ends meet; she was a young poet who had just published her first book of collected poems. They both were very good-looking, intelligent and ambitious, they both had similar interests: they loved Paris, Baudelaire and Shakespeare. As Achmatova defined it herself “everything that happened was for both of us a prehistory of our future lives: his very short one, my very long one”.

In 1910 Anna Achmatova was a charming, young lady with a beautiful slender figure and magnetic eyes. Nikolai Gumilev was aware of his wife’s beauty and what effect it produced on other men, especially during their honeymoon in Paris. She was always surrounded by groups of artists and writers, but her husband was never bothered or jealous until one day they met a charming Italian Jew, Amedeo Modigliani. Half a century later Achmatova wrote in her memoirs: “As I understand it now, what he must have found astonishing in me was my ability to guess rightly his thoughts, to know his dreams and other small things – others who knew me had become accustomed to this a long time before… Everything divine in Modigliani only sparkled through a kind of darkness. He was different from any other person in the world. His voice somehow always remained in my memory. I knew him as a beggar and it was impossible to understand how he existed – as an artist he didn’t have a shadow of recognition.”

When the honeymoon trip was over Anna Achmatova and Nikolai Gumilev returned to Russia. Achmatova mentioned in her memoirs she met Modigliani in the spring of 1910 and only saw him a couple of times but later that year during the winter he wrote her letters. One of his letters was engraved in her memory: “Vous etes en moi comme une hantise”. However it was not until his death that she learned he also wrote her poetry.

After a winter-long correspondence with Amedeo, in summer 1911 Anna abandoned her husband and went to Paris where she stayed for three months. They met again in Paris and at that time Modigliani lived at Impasse Falquiere. Achmatova wrote that she found him so poor that when they sat in the Luxembourg Gardens they always sat on the bench, and not on the paid chairs, as was the custom. “On the whole he didn’t complain, nor about his completely evident indigence, nor about his equally evident nonrecognition. He seemed to me encircled with a dense ring of loneliness. I don’t remember him exchanging greetings in the Luxembourg Gardens or in the Latin Quarter where everybody more or less knows each other. I never saw him drunk or smell wine on him. Apparently, he started to drink later.”

In those years Modigliani was obsessed with the Egyptian culture and Egypt. He would take Anna to the Louvre to spend the whole day at the Egyptian department. He often told her that her long neck and elongated body reminded him of Egyptian tsarinas and dancers. As we learn it from Modigliani’s later works, Anna’s body completely answered to his vision of a woman’s body. We might even suppose, that his particular style was shaped thanks to her.

During her stay in Paris, Modigliani made several nude portraits most of which were destroyed during the Revolution in Russia. One of Modigliani’s drawings is still kept at Achmatova’s house in Saint-Petersburg which is now her apartment-museum.

My breast grew helplessly cold,
But my steps were light.
I pulled the glove from my left hand
Mistakenly onto my right.
It seemed there were so many steps,
But I knew there were only three!
Amidst the maples an autumn whisper
Pleaded: 'Die with me!
I'm led astray by evil
Fate, so black and so untrue.'
I answered: 'I, too, dear one!
I, too, will die with you…'
This is a song of the final meeting.
I glanced at the house's dark frame.
Only bedroom candles burning
With an indifferent yellow flame.

“Song of the Final Meeting” - a poem about the love story with a young Italian artist that was not meant to be. It became so popular that Achmatova started hating all the poems she wrote during that period. In 1911 she left Paris and her Italian lover to never return and never see him again. The truth lay in Achmatova’s jealousy and irritation with all his other women, especially Beatrice Hastings. The love affair between Modigliani and Hastings lasted for nearly 2 years.

Achmatova always remembered about Modigliani and from her poetry we might suggest she loved him until her death. In late 1940 Anna started a monumental “Poem without a Hero”. In one of the working variants she has the following lines:

Paris is in dark mist
And probably again Modigliani
Imperceptibly follows me.
He has a sad virtue
To bring disorder even to my dreams
And be the reason of my many misfortunes.

Achmatova was always very reserved about her private life. Only some of her close friends, such as Joseph Brodsky or Boris Pasternak knew everything. Her memoirs written at the age of 70 give us only an idea, a hint to real feelings. She never dared to reveal her true feelings to Modigliani. It is only from her poetry that we learn how deep and how suffered that love was.

A young married woman, a stranger, who couldn’t leave her loving husband and a son and a young poor artist at the beginnings of his career, a Casanova in Paris. What could they have had in common? And why is there so much interest in such a brief love story? Maybe because it was the kind of love that changed them both and influenced their style in art. Maybe because we like to believe that certain love stories are destined to be. Who knows if Anna Achmatova and Amedeo Modigliani will have a happier ending in the next life?

*All rights reserved. This material may not be published, rewritten or redistributed in whole or part without a permission.

Fyodor Dostoevsky: then, now and forever

If you ask any person in any part of the world about what comes in his mind when he thinks of Russia, the response will probably sound like this: snow, vodka, beautiful women, Dostoevsky and Tolstoy. Indeed these two writers are very often associated with Russia and “the mysterious Russian soul”. We may argue about who did it best; their views and personal philosophy can be arguable, but one thing remain indisputable: their contribution to literature was enormous and of great importance.

Dostoevsky has always been and still is one of my favourite Russian authors. The uniqueness of Dostoevsky does not only lie in the manner of narration that at times can be ironic, caustic and even violent, but what distinguishes him among other Russians is the profound examination of the human soul.

 The writer was born on November 11, 1821 (new style) in Moscow. He was the second of seven children. His father is often described as a despot who later was murdered. Fyodor’s mother, on the other hand, is described as a tender and sensitive woman with musical talent and interest in literature. She died when Fyodor was a young man of 15. In 1843 Dostoevsky graduated from St. Petersburg’s Academy of Military Engineers as lieutenant, but during his work at the military department he soon realized that it gave him no creative satisfaction. His biggest desire was to write.

At first he started by translating Honore de Balzac’s “Eugenie Grandet” and George Sand’s “Le derniere Aldini”. Soon after (in 1846) he published his first novel “Poor Folk”. Before its publication the novel was passed to a legendary critic Vissarion Belinsky who promptly declared that Dostoevsky was the heir of Gogol. Belinsky’s praise made Dostoevsky “the new literary genius of Saint Petersburg”. However the moment of glory didn’t last long, to be precise – 15 days. Exactly 15 days separated the publications of his first and second novels. The early reviews on “the Double”, his second novel, were extremely negative. Even after his first success, Dostoevsky had never recovered his confidence. His only salvation lay in creation of even greater stories, which would remain in the history of the world literature and would help him “establish his reputation”.

 The negative feedback on “the Double” and the decline of his reputation together with his father’s murder, his own exile and the gambling madness – all these unfortunate events influenced his writing and shaped his unique literary style.

 In the line of the most read novels “The Brothers Karamazov” and “The Crime and the Punishment” should come first. Both of these are fundamental, must-read books. “The Crime and the Punishment” is one of the greatest philosophical novels ever written, like Shakespeare’s “Hamlet” (only reversed). The fatal deed is done at the very beginning of the book, thus Dostoevsky leaves the biggest part of it to self-analysis, followed by madness. Dostoevsky is insuperable when it comes to a deep physiological analysis of a person and he does it better when his characters are in extreme mental states or even on the verge of suicide. The author believed that in the borderline states a man is better perceived than in everyday life. Besides the main characters in “The Crimes and Punishment” we also notice another “character”, the one which is always present in his prose. Its Saint-Petersburg, the city that both obsessed and oppressed him. In this novel we see how ambiguous that relationship was for Dostoevsky.

 “The Brothers Karamazov” was the last of Dostoevsky’s novels and many critics agree it was the greatest one. It’s a story of three brothers, three lives and I say lives, because Dostoevsky breathed life over them. All characters are so full and realistic you almost don’t want to abandon them and it makes you want to read and re-read the book countless times. “The Brothers Karamazov” is full of discussions about man and God. Dostoevsky does it deliberately, believing that characters are more expressive in dialogues than in monologues. Dialogues gave a bigger sense of drama and importance. Thus he discusses with the reader his most important interest – the religion. Dostoevsky had a very specific view on religion, which I must say, was shattered at times by the suffering and doubt. Another interest in the novel is presented by Father Zosima, his wisdom and humanity. Dostoevsky planned a sequel to “the Brothers Karamazov”. There are some indirect versions that Alyosha would become a tsar killer and that he would enter in the revolutionary movement.

 Another prominent novel that I have to mention here is “The Idiot”. The central idea of that story is “to depict a completely beautiful human being”. Prince Myshkin is a Russian Holy Fool, a descendant of Don Quixote. The writing and the publication of the novel were certainly very tortured. “The Idiot” was written abroad, mostly during his stay in Italy. Another event that influenced his writing a lot was the loss of a 3-months old daughter from his second marriage. Dostoevsky started gambling suicidally and had epileptic fits. He was only cured by the moment he started writing “The Possessed” in 1871. In total his gambling addiction lasted for 10 years.

 Thus, his personal struggling and suffering influence his writing once again. In “The Idiot” Dostoevsky confronts death. A dead man who is totally flesh without life, damaged and destroyed, with no hint of a possible resurrection. “In a world where God is simply dead flesh, a good man becomes simply an idiot”. Dostoevsky’s works were first translated between 1912 and 1920 thanks to Constance Garnett, the wife of a literary agent. Her knowledge of Russian was not particularly good and she was apt to leave out the bits she could not quite get the sense of. However she adored her work and her style had a natural animation and flow.

 I personally believe that reading Dostoevsky should be a must for every person. And you shouldn’t read him if you’re looking for a character to discover and a new story to live. Dostoevsky will not offer you that. From the very first pages he will absorb you and take you into that imaginary world, but not his world. He, a master of psychological insight, will take you inside yourself. Dostoevsky is a most precious writer, for, he offers you a very precious lesson – the lesson of self-discovery.

Good bye, Lenin! Good bye, wall!

During the past century we have witnessed the two most destructive wars of all times, the latter of which resulted in the division of the world in two parts. From one side - the potent Western world represented by America with its capitalism, and from another side - idealistic Soviet Union, the Eastern countries and socialism. The decades of frictions between the two major powers of the world led to the collapse of the Soviet Union. There is no more  Yugoslavia, Czechoslovakia, People’s Republic of Bulgaria and no German Democratic Republic.
 I was born right about the time when the Soviet Union entered in decline and the collapse was inevitable. There is not much that I remember of my Soviet childhood, if not the long waiting lines at the supermarkets, milk in glass bottles or my family’s vacation in Georgia. My family’s memories are quite different from what I could have grasped at the age of 4.
The year of 1989 – glorious for the Western culture and tragic for the Eastern culture. While liberated Germany was enjoying its freedom and America was finally enjoying its glorious victory in the Cold War, the Soviet Union was at the beginning of its end. In the course of the following years and during the famous “perestroika”, Russia found itself in a deep political and socio-economic crisis. The utopic dream Karl Marx once wrote about and Vladimir Lenin tried to put in practice revealed itself a complete failure in the eyes of the whole world. Countries were ruined, boundaries shift, families divided by “the iron curtain”. The beautiful dream that so many people believed in, had become a living nightmare.

 There have been films addressing the problems of that period the history, but very few managed to transmit the “feeling” and the atmosphere of that difficult moment. “Good bye, Lenin!” – is an undoubtful masterpiece of German cinema. The director Wolfgang Becker approaches the viewer in a very honest and humorous manner. Even the film title “Good bye, Lenin!” being so short still contains the sense of irony and absurdity. The title somehow holds the unbearable pain, so all that humour that was supposed to be in those words is substituted by irony. In my opinion that feeling of despair, wounds that are still open and bleeding, storms of uncontrolled anger toward the destiny and the absurdity of life – all that results in irony veiled by humour and touching melancholy.
The story is very original and captivating. A story of a young man and his incredible capacity to love. Certain scenes in the film are so emotionally deep that they touch everyone’s heart, especially those of us who have been through those difficult times and still hold them in memory. There are some really powerful scenes, such as when Christiane goes out in the street and sees the huge Lenin statue fly towards her and then fly away carried by a helicopter, as if her whole past, her whole life is flying away from her to never return.
But what most touches your heart is love. It is the most tender and pure kind of love, the love of a son (Alex) to his mother (Christiane). Christiane outlives two big dramas in her life. The first one is the loss of a husband who flees to the Western Germany and prefers to stay there. Christiane survives the first drama dedicating herself completely to the social activities in the former GDR. Not having any personal life, she “marries” the socialism. However even that (probably the most meaningful) relationship of her life is meant to fail.
Alex, having already saved his mother once after his father left, knows she won’t be able to survive another drama. So he saves her again from all the possible disappointments. When his parents’ marriage fell apart, Alex created a whole new world where he was an astronaut, taking his mother to the Moon. When the GDR fell apart, Alex decided to create a whole new country, the dream Germany where he and his mother always wanted to live. And once united, this perfect Germany was governed by the first German astronaut, Sigmund Jahn.
“Good bye Lenin!” not only gives you a history lesson, but what's more important: a lesson of love. The kind of love that everyone can only dream of, because it’s the most solid and pure love. The love of a son to his mother. And if you are lucky enough to experience the unconditional love of a child, who is ready to create the most absurd reality just to make you smile, to make you happy and live a little longer - than no matter what political circumstances there are in the country, no matter how much you have suffered or how many times your heart has been broken, this love will always keep you alive. For, even when you die, your child will always carry you in his heart.