Marina Tsvetaeva. My hour with you is over, my eternity remains with you. Part 6
When there is emptiness around the urethra, but inside there is a sound abyss, it is very difficult to stay on this side of life and death. The only thing that can save is sound faith, which is higher than knowledge. Marina Tsvetaeva appeals to everyone who still has the opportunity to choose with the demand for this faith.
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5
Bipolar disorder, manic-depressive psychosis, circular psychosis - classical psychiatry in different ways at different times interpreted the state of the urethral sound engineer in shortages. There is no part-time leader. When there is emptiness around the urethra, but inside there is a sound abyss, it is very difficult to stay on this side of life and death. The only thing that can save is sound faith, which is higher than knowledge. Marina Tsvetaeva appeals to everyone who still has the opportunity to choose with the demand for this faith.
"I can not" and "I do not want"
Marina Tsvetaeva from her youth tried to understand the nature of the human soul. She attached importance to the most ordinary and familiar words, trying to get to the very essence, to the root of concepts. What do you mean "I can not" and "I do not want"? Marina reasoned like this. The depth of the natural human property is made up of desires, from which a person, as it seems to him, can for a while give up, saying to himself "I do not want". At the same time, desire is preserved, a person cannot form the space of his desires - it is from birth, "in the depths of the blood."
But there is also the space of the spirit, which is formed by the person himself with his spiritual work. And this is already from the "I can not" area, this is the freedom to choose between primitive desire and rejection of it. I cannot act meanly, I cannot betray, I cannot harm another person. "I can not" is more sacred "I do not want." “I can't” - these are all corrected attempts to want, this is the final result. My "cannot" is least of all weakness. Moreover, my main power means that there is something in me that, despite my wishes, he still does not want! 1919 in hungry revolutionary Moscow.
If in his desires a person does not think about anything else but personal good, then, having taken on faith the postulate of the primacy of the public over the personal, passed down from above, he still remains himself - a selfish individual who, under any pressure from external circumstances, will abandon everything., what he believed, because it is not the fruit of his own spiritual work, it did not become him and never will. Only the soul's own labor "for growth", for development, for return, when a person cannot act at the direction of animal desires, brings a stable result - a powerfully developed personality of Man.
The sound vector in the mental unconscious of a person is designed to find answers to the most complex questions of the world order. Tsvetaeva's sound dives are extremely interesting. Sometimes she does not have time to write down a thought in full, she just sketches it out, often using dashes, ellipsis. In her reasoning there are always more questions than ready-made answers, which is why it is so interesting to read not only the poems of Tsvetaeva the poet, but also prose, the diaries of Tsvetaeva the thinker.
When talking about the people she met, Marina is invariably generous. She always shows a person from the best side, and this is not flattery: Tsvetaeva really sees this way, this is how she feels the people she has chosen - they are the best, most worthy of worthy heroes. Marina Tsvetaeva forever remained in the memory of those with whom her fate confronted, and they themselves - in her books and books about her. She created myths not only in poetry and prose, Marina made heroes out of people in life. The most striking example of her “human creativity” is Sergei Efron.
I want not to be. Nonsense. While I am needed … (M. Ts.)
With the arrest of her husband and daughter, Tsvetaeva is deprived of her livelihood. She feverishly takes on any work, translates national poets, prints manuscripts. A bitter entry appears in the diary: "While I write someone else's, who will write mine?" Marina admits that she is experiencing fear for the first time: "I am afraid of everything, the eye, the step, and most of all my head …"
“No one sees or knows that I have been looking for a hook with my eyes for about a year. I don't want to die, I want not to be. Nonsense. As long as I am needed …”And again, like all my life, the mortal need of others in her keeps Marina from the hook: she needs to collect and carry parcels to prison, these programs need to be earned. She is compiling a collection for printing. The collection opens with a poem dedicated to Sergei Efron. Previously, Marina did not publish it:
I wrote on a slate board, And on the leaves of the faded fans, Both on the river and on the sea sand, Skates on ice and a ring on glass, -
And on trunks that are hundreds of winters
And finally - so that everyone knows! -
What do you love! love! love! - we love! -
She signed with a heavenly rainbow.
Alas. The collection was "stabbed" at the publishing house. The extremely prolific critic Zelinsky is known only for his disgusting libel against Tsvetaeva. Now Marina has completely stopped writing. In her understanding, it has ceased to be …
It's time to extinguish the over-door lamp … (M. Ts.)
Tsvetaeva perceived the beginning of the Great Patriotic War as a catastrophe with a predetermined end. I was afraid of raids, I sat in a bomb shelter, petrified, as if peering into the growing black dot of inevitability. There was no one with her during those terrible days. Marina rushed to the evacuation in panic. At this moment, probably, her soul of the urethral leader of the pack died finally.
The leaders do not run - Marina ran. The leaders are not afraid - she was in a panic. The leader cannot but give, Marina was completely empty, the four-dimensional giving and thus enjoying the urethral essence was swallowed up by the endless black hole of the unfilled sick sound. The head that Marina feared took over. She was seized by a heavy madness, the escape became an end in itself. Not where, but where. Getting off in Yelabuga, Marina immediately returns to Chistopol, then again goes to Yelabuga. She is trying with the last bit of strength to somehow arrange her life and her son's, to find work and food. They don't want to see the "White Guard" anywhere. Tsvetaeva loses her will, ceases to control herself.
The day before the tragedy, Marina desperately quarrels with Moore. What the quarrel was about, the hostess could not understand, they spoke in French. There was an entry in my son's diary. Georgy Efron writes: “Mother. like a spinner. does not know at all whether to stay here or move to Ch (istopol). She tries to get the “final word” from me, but I refuse to say this “final word” because I don't want the responsibility for my mother's gross mistakes to fall on me. Let her show in practice how much she understands what I need most. The boy is used to the fact that the responsibility always lies with the mother.
Marina Tsvetaeva passed away on the last day of the summer of 1941. Her suicide note explains everything. Marina did not want to be a burden to her son. She fulfills this last will of hers, killing a surprisingly hardy, "seven-core" body that loved life so much.
Instead of an epilogue
The combination of the urethral and sound vectors in the mental unconscious of a person is expressed in the insoluble contradiction of the maximum desire for physical life and the desire for the absolute of pure sound. These two desires never even partially merge; there can be no compromise between them.
Filling desires in the urethral vector, a person gives himself up to life with all his passion, living as if several lives at once. Around the leader there is always a crowd of people who want to join the feast of natural bestowal. The life of such people seems to be compressed: so many events take place in it, so many people carry memories of a meeting with the leader of the pack.
When the urethral feast is over, the person falls into the abyss of sound voids. As long as he has something to fill these voids with, for example, poetry, music, knowledge, the sound state is productive, that is, one can live in it. When it becomes impossible to fill the sound, sound depression sets in. The suffering of unfulfilled sound for many famous people has become incompatible with life.
The tragic fates of Pushkin, Lermontov, Yesenin, Mayakovsky, Tsvetaeva, Vysotsky are the incarnations of one urethral-sound life scenario where committing suicide at once or stopping at a delayed option in the form of alcohol, drugs, unjustified risk is an unconscious choice of an individual. The bottom line is: get out of this life without meaning, where the body for some reason demands to eat, drink, breathe and sleep.
In sound and urethra, for all their immiscibility, there is a common property - the absence of body value. The urethral, without hesitation, throws the body onto the enemy embrasure in order to preserve his flock. For the sound engineer, the body is a hindrance that distracts from thoughts about the eternal. That is why the urethral-sound scenario is often called suicidal. But this does not mean that any person with such a set of mental properties is doomed to death.
I am making a demand for faith … (M. Ts.)
As long as a person is alive, he is endowed with free will, freedom of choice, you can still change. What happened can no longer be changed. Unbearable suffering pushes people to a desperate step - taking their own lives in the hope of getting rid of torment. The absorption of the soul by a sound void is expressed in what N. A. Berdyaev called "self-absorption, powerlessness to get out of oneself, to forget oneself and think about others." The highest degree of sound egocentrism, when a person infinitely does not care who he is orphaned, whom he left without hope of surviving.
Is it possible to get rid of torment in this way? Not. The concentration of suffering in that last fateful moment goes off scale beyond all limits, completely annihilating life. The horror of a suicide who has crossed the point of no return stops his heart before the death of the body occurs.
As if anticipating this horror and her repentance, Marina Tsvetaeva, even in the prosperous Koktebel in 1913, wrote piercing verses: "How many of them fell into this abyss …" Read systematically, Tsvetaeva's lines sound much deeper than they are usually understood. This is a warning to all of us, alive, against the irreparable mistake of falling into the abyss: "Everything will be as if there were no me under the sky."
The tragedy of any suicide, from the most brilliant urethral-sound poet to a person little known to anyone, is the tragedy of the rejection by the general psychic matrix of the one who did not leave an imprint on it. This means that you will have to patch up the emptiness of the under-delivered over and over again; the cycle of suffering and attempts to correct will repeat itself.
And there will be life with its daily bread, With the forgetfulness of the day.
And everything will be …
