#161 My First Fee- Isaac Babel
Babel is one of many brilliant artists that suffered under
the dark cloud of Stalin. Believing him to be a Trotskyite, he was tortured and
forced to confess to treason before being executed. The heavy oppressive
culture killed off thousands of talented writers, but such adversity often
creates its own art, deep meaningful and serious art.
Just reading some of these passages, you can tell
immediately they came from that pace during that period:
“Since childhood, I had invested every drop of my strength
in creating tales, plays, and thousands of stories. They lay on my heart like a
toad on a stone. Possessed by demonic pride, I did not want to write them down
too soon, I felt that it was pointless to write worse than Tolstoy. My stories
were destined to survive oblivion.
Dauntless thought and grueling passion are only worth the effort spent
on them when they are draped in beautiful raiment.”
“I was a dreamer but did not have the knack for the
thoughtless art of happiness.”
“Other people’s lives bustled in the hallway with peels of
sudden laughter. Flies were dying in a jar filled with milky liquid. Each fly
was dying in its own way—one in drawn-out agony, its death throes violent,
another with a barely visible shudder.”
Can’t you just feel that this is Russian?
Notable Passage: “I had no choice but to look for love.”
