Print

Email story

Comment

Email editor

Books

The dangerous poet of love

By MARGO HAMMOND
Published March 12, 2006

Russian poet Yevgeny Yevtushenko became an international sensation in 1961 when he published Babi Yar, a haunting poem denouncing Nazism and Russian anti-Semitism. Since that time, as a filmmaker, politician and poet, he has been an outspoken activist on a variety of issues, from censorship to ecology.

From 1988 to 1991, the poet served in the first freely elected Parliament of the Soviet Union. "We stopped the war in Afghanistan," says Yevtushenko of that time. "We abolished censorship; we abolished the special commissions that were checking on Russian citizens going abroad. I am very happy that in history my name will be connected to this period."

Currently, Yevtushenko divides his time between Russia and Oklahoma, where he teaches at the University of Tulsa. "I don't teach literature," he says, "I teach compassion through poetry and film." He has been working on an exhaustive anthology of Russian poetry from the 10th century to the present.

Before his visit to the bay area (details in "Meet the Author," right) I talked to the poet by telephone from his home in Oklahoma. Here are edited excerpts:

In the '60s, a high school teacher of mine said she would give an A to anyone in the class who could say who was the most dangerous man in the Soviet Union. The correct answer was Yevgeny Yevtushenko. Do you think poets are still dangerous?

Oh, yes. Poets always are dangerous for the bureaucracy. Do you know the main reaction bureaucrats have to writers who represent the conscience of the people? Jealousy. Bureaucrats manipulate people to love them. But artificially made popularity has very short legs. Truth, on the other hand, takes very giant steps. Bureaucrats want to be loved, but they are tortured by the fact that their popularity is very temporary.

Do you think artists would make better politicians than bureaucrats?

I was a member of the Russian Parliament during the wonderful years of Gorbachev's perestroika. It was for me not a quest for power, but rather a sacrifice of my time for our people. We didn't have many good professional politicians - just marionettes who were working for the Communist Party leaders. Intellectuals have to take moral control of power. This is one of our duties. Controllers of conscience. We mustn't be indifferent to politics. Unfortunately, now many young people are indifferent to politics. I think it's very dangerous.

Are Russian youth more politicized than American youngsters?

No, no. Now, we are both the same. Just like American youth, Russians want to be businessmen, they want to make their careers. Very few want to devote their energies to the social and political field. They criticize politics, but they don't do anything to change it. They have a squeamishness to enter the so-called dirty kitchen of politics. But indifference is not neutrality. To be indifferent is to take a position. I don't mean all young people should be professional politicians, but many of them don't even vote.

Do you consider yourself a political poet?

I didn't become popular as a political poet, but as a poet of love. But, as I said, I think intellectuals have a moral responsibility to speak up. Last night I didn't sleep. In Moscow, an old Cuban man was killed. He was a cigar roller. He was killed by some teenagers, some skinheads, nationalists. I was so ashamed. My poem - Death of a Cigar Roller - will be published tomorrow in Russia in Novye Izvestiya. I also called a radio station in Moscow and recited this poem to hundreds of thousands of Russians. I hate any kind of aggressive nationalism. That's why I wrote Babi Yar, many years ago.

You first visited the United States in 1961 - when you were the most dangerous man in the USSR. What do you see is the biggest change in this country since that time?

To be honest, I liked the United States more in the '60s than now. When I came, I had never seen protests before. In America, I saw demonstrations against racism, against war. I saw Martin Luther King, marching together with Dr. Benjamin Spock. I heard a young Joan Baez singing We Shall Overcome. This song has been a secret anthem of my soul. I saw great freedom here. Great compassion. Now when I tell my students about that time, unfortunately, they look at me like I'm talking about the history of another country. In Russia, the same thing is happening: Young people don't know history, not even recent history. They don't read books. We shouldn't be indifferent to this. The U.S. and Russia, mighty nuclear states, are responsible for the spiritual life of our people.

How close are you to finishing your three-volume anthology, Ten Centuries of Russian Poetry?

I am trying to finish it this year. I sleep now four hours a day. Each Friday, I publish one chapter from this anthology in Novye Izvestiya.

What has been the most difficult part of this project?

Time. I choose poets and then I have to read everything that poet wrote. It's like rehabilitating people who were behind the bars of oblivion. I pull them out and resurrect them. It's a great responsibility.

When you published your first poems in 1949, you were a soccer player. Do you ever regret that you chose poetry over soccer?

I may have lost my chance to become a professional soccer player, but my novel, Don't Die Before You're Dead, is partly dedicated to soccer. The main hero is a soccer player.

Yevgeny Yevtushenko will give a poetry reading at the Studio@620 620 1st Ave. S, St. Petersburg, at 7:30 p.m. on Tuesday. Tickets are $13 for adults; $10 for students. On Wednesday at 7:30 p.m., he will give a talk on 10 centuries of Russian poetry, "Every Wall Is a Door," in Miller Auditorium, Eckerd College, 4200 54th Avenue S, St. Petersburg, as part of the college's Presidential Events Series. The talk is free and open to the public. For information, log on to: www.eckerd.edu/events or call 727 864-7979.

[Last modified March 11, 2006, 10:29:02]