Professor Sergey Sergeevich Averintsev
[Poets]
Content
Two thousand years with Virgil
The luxury of pattern and the depth of the heart: the
poetry of Grigor Narekatsi
Reflections on Zhukovsky's translations
Consistency of symbols in the poetry of Vyacheslav Ivanov
The fate and message of Osip Mandelstam
The poetry of Clemens Brentano
Gilbert Keith Chesterton, or The Surprise of Sanity
Between "clarification" and "covering":
the
situation of the image in the poetry of
Ephraim the Syrian 8
Alas, our contemporary does
not seem to remember very clearly the very existence of classical Syriac
literature, which survived its golden age in the 4th-5th centuries. “The
Syrians – did they write in Arabic?” - sometimes you have to hear from people
who are not at all ignorant. Neither textbooks nor reference books are in a
hurry to help grief 9
.
And this is a pity, because
literature in Syriac, the offspring of the Aramaic language tree, created over
a strictly measured historical period, when the onslaught of Hellenism lost
strength, and the onslaught of Islam had not yet gained strength, is not just
the subject of one of the disciplines of Semitology, not a local
phenomenon that can only be praised for its originality, but a historical and
literary fact of a worldwide scale. The lines connecting in time biblical
antiquity with the Christian, and even Muslim, Middle Ages, and in space - Iran
and everything that lies to the east of Iran, with Byzantium and Western
Europe, pass through the Syrian-speaking zone, intersect in it, form their own
lines in it. vital knots. In the first millennium of our chronology, the Syrian
influence was felt from Ireland 10
to China 11.
This is not the place to talk about this in any detail. Let us just recall two
circumstances: firstly, it was the Syrians who were the first to create durable
forms of the Christian hymn for Byzantium, and therefore for all countries that
Byzantium influenced 12
; secondly, it was from the Syrians that the Moslem East received the tradition
of Aristotelianism, which in a roundabout way, through the Arabs, returned to
the West and fertilized high scholasticism
13
. The importance of both cannot be overestimated. And one more brief reminder,
concerning not world, but domestic culture. What do ancient Russian literature,
together with Russian folklore, owe to Syrian authors (and especially to
Ephraim the Sirin
) 14,
in a few words you can’t say; but even in our literature of the last century,
which seemed to have departed so far from these sources, it is impossible not
to recall Pushkin, who transcribed into verse the prayer of the same Ephrem
the Syrian 15
, and Dostoevsky, a reader of another Syrian author, Isaac of
Nineveh 16
.
Click to unlock
Pay to unlock / donate if you like...Syriac literature has a special relationship with the Palestinian origins of Christianity. As is known, the very word "Christians", according to a completely reliable report, was first heard on Syrian soil, in the city of Antioch 17 . Another thing is also known: it was in the cities and semi-free states of Eastern Syria, which lay on the border between the Roman and Persian powers, that the will for spiritual self-determination, starting from both Greco-Roman paganism and Iranian Zoroastrianism, very early appreciated Christianity as a welcome ally . Long before the era of Constantine arrived in the West, there were already experiments in the Constantinian spirit 18. Behind a legend very popular with Syrian Christians, according to which the East Syrian kingdom of Osroene, vassal to Rome, with its capital in Edessa (by the way, the area of crystallization of literature in the Syriac language) became Christian even under King Avgar V the Black, who allegedly was in correspondence with by Christ himself 19, that is, in the first half of the 1st century, some kind of historical reality lies; in any case, one of the successors and namesake of this monarch, Abgar IX (179-216), was baptized, and the citizens of Edessa were proud of their long-standing commitment to Christianity. Characteristically, the position of Christians worsened after 216, when Osroene was absorbed into the Roman Empire. The fate of Syrian identity and Syrian Christianity reveals a curious parallelism later, for example, during the brief but significant attempt by the Syrian woman Bat-Zabbai, whom the Greeks and Romans called Zenobia, to found a Middle Eastern empire with its capital in Palmyra (270-272) 20. Bat-Zabbai was not a Christian, but she patronized her Christian subjects and even allowed the heretical bishop Paul of Samosata to play the role of the first man in Antioch 21 ; under the rule of the pagan Caesars of Rome, he would not have succeeded. The Syrians, especially those of Edessa, early formed a self-consciousness of the Christian people. They liked, for example, to argue that if the inscription over the head of the crucified Christ, according to the Gospel, was written in Hebrew, Greek and Latin, it follows that these languages were defiled by the sin of deicide, while the Syrian language is pure.
As for Syriac, which gave
birth to Syriac literature, it should not be forgotten that this is a late
phase (and dialectal variant) of the same Aramaic that was spoken in Palestine
in the 1st century, the native language of early Christianity. On a purely
verbal plane, the parables, aphorisms and sayings of Jesus preserved in the
text of the Gospels - alas, translated into Greek - appear, perhaps, as one of
the first portents of the future flourishing of Syrian poetry. The Syriac
versions of the Gospels, on the whole secondary to the Greek-language canon,
but unusually early (starting from the 1st-2nd centuries 22),
apparently retained some fragments of the original Aramaic oral tradition; and
in any case they are much closer in linguistic matter to the latter than the
Greek text. An almost punning play on words and consonances, which you would
not even guess from the Greek text, because it went out completely there,
suddenly flashes in the Syriac version, as a sure sign of returning to your
native element - the element of Aramaic speech. Examples of this are numerous 23
. We will give only one - a saying from the Gospel of Matthew ( Matt. 11:17 ): “We played
the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang you sad songs and you didn't
play". In Greek, it keeps so little from the characteristic
"folding" of a real proverb (although still a little more than in
Russian); but here is how it sounds in both ancient Syriac translations:
Z e
marn l e khon w e la raqqedhton
welajn l e
khon w e la arqedhton…
In this case, as
in many other, homogeneous ones, the Syriac translation is, if “genetically”
and not more primary than the Greek text of which it seems to be a translation
(although even this, as has already been said, remains unclear in relation to
each specific place), then “typologically” it is undoubtedly more primitive
than it.
Here we must reflect to
understand the scope of the implications of this fact. The Bible
was the norm for every Christian culture, and therefore the tuning fork by
which every Christian literature tried to tune itself: both the Greek chant of
Roman the Melodist 24
and the Latin prose of Augustine 25
could begin with a quotation from a psalm, and you never know what else . The
constructive role of looking back at the Biblein the formation of the medieval literary canon is
very great. However, already in the zone of the Greek language, biblical
poetics, the biblical culture of the word, the life of the word within the
Semitic text could be perceived only indirectly, through a foreign language,
alien refraction. In Greek, even where the meaning is retained to the smallest
detail, the tone changes irreparably; and tone, as you know, makes music. The
mediation, and, moreover, the mediation of a world-historical scale, was
already the translation of the Septuagint, from which the Greek version of the
New Testament and through it the Greek-language Christian literature received
stylistic models, and above all a set of lexical "Biblicalisms" 26.
In the Septuagint, neither biblical poetics nor the elements of the Greek
language remain equal to themselves, for they are mediated by each other;
Semitisms of the translation introduce artificiality, almost exoticism, the
slightest manifestations of Hellenistic taste move away from the original. But
the Greek reworking of biblical poetics, in turn, served as a model for many
Christian literatures, primarily for Latin and Coptic, whose sacred vocabulary,
along with Semitisms, includes a lot of Greekisms. The farther, the more steps
of mediation grew one above the other; for example, the "biblical"
vocabulary of the modern Russian language embraces both Semitisms, and
Greekisms, and Slavicisms, the Jewish appeal "rabbi" and the Aramaic
"rabboni" coexist in it with the Greek "sinhedrin" and
"architriklin", the guests at the wedding are called “sons of the
bridal chamber” in quite Aramaic, and everything is immersed in an atmosphere
created by a not very distinct, but constant glance at the Church Slavonic
language. The consequences of mediation were manifold. People of ancient
culture, becoming Christians, could acquire in the Semitized, that is,
“barbarian”, linguistic appearance of Greek, and then LatinThe Bible is like an ascetic sackcloth to subdue one's literary
taste, brought up on orators and poets; they themselves spoke about it quite
expressively. Later, the very involuntarily arose "estrangement" of
the biblical word could cause reverent admiration - from playing with the
Hebrew names of God in the sequence of the Latin poet of the XI century Herman
the Relaxed 27to
the tenderness of the Chekhovian woman over the incomprehensible word
"dondezhe." Literary creativity and literary perception can turn
everything to their advantage, even interference. But mediation is mediation,
distance is distance. So, the uniqueness of the position of Syriac literature
in the face of biblical poetics was that for it, and only for it, the reception
was almost without mediation, that the distance was minimal - like the
geographical distance between Galilee and Syria. The Syriac language, compared
with Aramaic, is the same language, and even compared with Hebrew, the same
linguistic structure, the same, in its basics, attitude to the word. Biblical
poetics was adopted without effort, without tension, without struggle with
oneself, which tormented the "Ciceronian" Jerome 28;
and therefore the biblical word sounds in Syriac with such simplicity and
naturalness as nowhere else. We cited above such an exotic phrase in Russian,
Greek, Latin "sons of the bridal chamber." Only in Syrian is this the
most common everyday expression, standing among others similar to it: the
spouse is “the son of a concubine”, the city dweller is “the son of the city”,
the dying one is “the son of death”, even the demon of sleepwalking is “the son
of the roof”, etc. e. 29
The gospel idioms, spread throughout the literatures of the Christian world, as
pilgrims carried relics from Palestine around the world, are an everyday,
homely thing for the Syrian writer and his reader.
With this we will
limit our general, preliminary remarks about the place of Syriac literature at
the origins of the Christian Middle Ages. The rest we have to see from the
texts themselves.
Before we move on to them, a
few words about their author. Ephraim the Sirin , as it is customary to call him in Russian from
ancient times, or Mar Afrem (that is, "Mr. Ephraim"), as he is called
in the Syrian tradition, is the most representative, because the most central,
figure of the Syrian classics 30
. So he was appreciated by his contemporaries and descendants, who gave him
honorary nicknames in which it is impossible to separate religious reverence
for his teaching authority and delight in his poetic gift (just as in his work
it is impossible to separate didactics and poetry); he is both the “prophet of
the Syrians”, and the “sun of the Syrians”, and the “harp of the Holy Spirit”,
and the “pillar of the Church” 31.
Later researchers did not change anything in the assessment of Ephraim as the
first poet and writer of the Syrians; they might be skeptical of Syriac
literature as such , 32
but not of Ephraim's place in it.
The hagiographic tradition
about Ephraim is rich, but the information it offers is often dubious. We
recall only the main and most indisputable facts. The life and work of Ephraim
was connected with two important centers of East Syrian, that is, the most original,
least touched by Hellenism, culture; until 363, he lived in his native city of
Nisivin, but then Nisivin went to the power of the Sassanids, and Ephraim moved
to the west, on this side of the border of the Christian empire of the Romans,
in order to settle in Edessa until the end of his life, where he taught at the
so-called "school of the Persians" bible
interpretationand singing. Apparently, even in the Nisivinian period of his
life, Ephraim took the rank of deacon, but never went beyond this rank, which
brings him closer to another great church poet, Roman the Melodist. In those
days, the position of a deacon was associated with the duties of a choir
director, and, if he had the appropriate talent, with the duties of a composer
of hymns, that is, a poet and composer; consequently, it is precisely the
deacon's office that befits the hymnographer 33
.
Since Ephraim was not a
hierarch, a "hierarch", his exclusive authority is the authority of
his personality. A living memory of him was preserved as a short, bald and
beardless man with an unusually concentrated expression on his face, which was
impossible to amuse or make laugh. His fame during his lifetime went far beyond
the Syrian language zone. It is difficult to say how reliable the traditions
about his meeting with Basil the
Great , Bishop of
Caesarea in Asia Minor and the most prominent church leader and writer of his
century, but there is no doubt that Basil knew about him 34
. The writings of Ephraim very early, perhaps even during his lifetime, began
to be translated into Greek 35;
their influence, which is very noticeable in Byzantine literature, spreads
further to the West thanks to Latin translations, reaching the area of
semi-barbarian Old High German poetry by the 8th-9th centuries . (For
the role that Ephraim's legacy played in Rus', see note 6.) The Syrian writer
was well known in neighboring Armenia.
Attempts to discern echoes of Ephraim's texts in the
Qur'an 37
remain debatable .
The poetic texts, which will
be discussed below, belong to the genre called in Syriac "madrash".
The word madrasa (from dras -
"to trample, reason, talk, argue") - the same root as the Hebrew midras ("study, teaching,
interpretation of the Bible ") and Arabic madrasa , known to us in the form "madrasah" ("a
place where are learning"). So, madrash is a teaching genre. Formally, it
is characterized by a clear syllabic rhythm, which makes the hymns suitable for
singing, and the alternation of stanzas of a certain length with an unchanging
refrain that runs through the entire poem. Ephraim either created, or, more
likely, brought to perfection this genre, which obviously later served as a
model for the Byzantine kontakion, as already mentioned above.
Every poetry has its own
sociological context. “We must imagine Ephraim as concretely as possible at the
head of the choir of virgins , 38
which he leads as regent. Who are these virgins? In Syriac they are called
"daughters of the Covenant" (be nath
qjama); these are celibate women who voluntarily chose an ascetic life, but not
yet nuns in the institutional sense that was then only developed in the
monasteries of the Egyptian Thebaid, not a special community that separated
itself from the “worldly” Christians, but rather the center of a large
Christian community - a characteristically Syrian phenomenon that kept
traditions of early Christianity 39.
This is what Efrem brings to them with each of his new works, with them he
learns the text and melody; they are his "performing team", but at
the same time his first public. When one thinks of Ephraim's poetry, one must
not forget them, just as, if it is permissible to compare things so dissimilar,
one must not forget about other, quite different girlish choirs around Sappho
or about the acting troupe to which Shakespeare brought his fresh manuscript.
The life of the "daughters of the Covenant" creates an atmosphere
within which only Ephraim's creativity is possible. Madrash, as we have already
seen from its very name, is fundamentally didactic, it teaches all the time and
cannot stop teaching, but Ephraim's teachings are not resonant, for he teaches
not an abstract student, but his maidens, whom he sees in front of him and
knows that they need; and only together with them, at the same time with them -
any "Christian soul", which will find a place for itself in the same
circle, since this circle has not yet closed, has not realized itself as a
special “monastic rank”, “spiritual class”. But still this is a circle of one's
own, and it is necessary to enter into it; From the outside you will not
understand anything, but from the inside everything is clear, and even very
simple. Their understand each other perfectly.
Hence the
well-known esoteric nature of Ephraim's hymns, which manifests itself on a
purely literary level in, for example, how he builds thematic transitions,
associative linkages of thoughts and images; in no way is the esotericism of
artificiality, rather, on the contrary, the esotericism of artlessness (unless
by artlessness one understands the so-called spontaneity, which in the
traditionalist verbal craft does not and cannot exist at all). Indeed,
Ephraim's compositional technique is very far from the rational rhetorical
divisions so important to the Byzantine and Latin literary tradition. Reading
Ephraim, we are often puzzled by the movement of his thought. To understand why
he wrote this way, one must remember for whom he wrote this way. Due to the
circumstances of their ascetic life, the maidens of Ephraim needed reference
points for “reflections” in the special sense of the word, that is, for
“meditations”; as if the dotted composition of the hymn gives them these dots,
the gaps between which were to be filled by their own spiritual work. But they
are both nuns, and not quite nuns yet, and their “God-thinking” is not yet cell
silence, is not yet isolated from communal, all-people worship; they
"meditate" not silently, but with a singing larynx, articulated lips
and tongue.
To say that the thematic
order in Ephraim's hymns is the order of "meditation" is, on the
formal constructive plane, the same thing as calling it improvisational. An
epigraph to the description of this kind of composition could be the New
Testament words about the ways of the spirit: “You hear his voice, but you do not know where it comes from and where
it goes ...” ( John 3:8 ). Of course, we are not aware of how Ephraim's
creative process proceeded empirically, and we have no right to take too
literally the hagiographic idea of inspiration .,
much less build any conjectures, so that the word "improvisational"
should not be understood in the meaning, so to speak, everyday; but the most
general nature of Ephraim's work, as far as it is restored by its results, is marked
by a feature of improvisation - in any case, more tangible than that of any of
the Greek-speaking and Latin-speaking associates comparable to him in rank. We
emphasize - comparable to him in rank; for the authors of secondary and
tertiary compositional norms could be obscured simply by a lack of skill and
diligence. But the fact of the matter is that Ephraim lacks a
logical-rhetorical singling out and combining topics - not inconsistency or
carelessness, not simple negation, but, on the contrary, some positive,
constructive property: the absence of one and, due to this, the presence of
something else not emptiness, but fullness.
Where the special quality of
the thematic construction, manifested in Ephraim, finds numerous parallels, it
is in the field of biblical poetics - for example, in the Old Testament psalms
or in the New Testament epistles, especially Paul. Let whoever wants to try to
draw up a clear plan for them, from which it would be clear what cannot be
discussed in this or that place of the text; his task will be simply impossible
41
. Something similar can be said about the suras of the Qur'an. On the contrary,
in the classical literatures of Greece and Rome there is hardly a real
correspondence to what Ephraim did; for the underlined, played up, exposed
liberties of transitions from subject to subject, which flaunt the odes of
Pindar and Horace 42,
is a fundamentally different phenomenon. Pindar still has some similarities
with Ephraim in that his work also presupposes both a circle of his own, who
understand perfectly (by no means just “connoisseurs”), and a nationwide cult
situation; and he trusted his poetic word to the choir. However, already he, a
representative of the Greek culture, moving towards the discovery of rhetoric
as a universal way to organize a statement about anything, had “metaphorical
associations” 43they
mask, decorate, make more mysterious, and therefore more interesting, the order
given by a uniform rational scheme. A modern researcher describes this order as
follows: “Imagine in the “core” - a myth, in the “beginning” and “conclusion” -
praises and prayers, in the “seal” - the words of the poet about himself, in
the “turn” and “counterturn” - binding moralistic reflections - and we will
have before us an almost exact scheme of the structure of Pindar's ode" 44
. The relationship between “metaphorical associations” and a given scheme is
regulated by the will of the poet, who quite clearly felt himself: this is “a
constant sense of audacity and risk present in his songs” 45,
far from the much more "humble" position of Ephraim, as heaven is
from earth. There is nothing to say about Horace: he is a pet of a completely
mature, centuries-old tradition of rhetoric, and it is quite clear that each of
his odes is based on a rhetorical "disposition", only carefully
shuffled; if this were not given, if the rational rhetorical habit of isolating
topics, their atomic isolation, were not given, the whole game of shuffling
would be impossible. In the ancient ode, logical order is primary,
"lyrical disorder" is secondary. Everything is different with
Ephraim: if you like - poorer, that is, less "artistic", if you like
- deeper, that is, more "original", it's how you look; anyway, much
easier. The improvisational warehouse of the composition is not for him a means
by which diversity or thoughtful complication is provided, or through which the
freedom of the author in relation to the material expresses itself, not a
"device" at all, but an absolutely necessary and self-evident premise
of his entire poetics: the air he can only breathe. It is this improvisation
that is primary, everything that is attached to it is secondary.
The question that one wants
to ask without any hope of a verifiable answer is whether the unimaginable
fertility of Ephraim, which seems unique even in the era of patristics, when
writers, as a rule, wrote a lot 46,
with the spirit of improvisation, which prevents poetry from properly noticing
itself and, in any case, becoming a “problem” for itself? In the 19th century,
perhaps, they would have expressed this state of affairs by saying that, in
contrast to Horace, the conscious artist, Ephraim is an unconscious artist, or
naive (however, no one seems to have said this, it must be because the teacher
of the “school Persians" in Edessa, an interpreter of sacred books and, in
general, a man of books to the marrow of his bones, is completely different
from Naturdichter'a, as he was portrayed by the last century). Time has taught
cultural historians to be very skeptical about the concept of the
"unconscious" artist, in particular in relation to medieval literature
47.
This idea is unclear at best: it would be absurd to believe that Ephraim did
not know that he wrote well, or did not make a completely conscious effort to
write as well as possible, or did not find it difficult to think about the
secrets of skill, which means that if the word "unconscious"
generally makes sense, not as a term, but as a metaphor. Therefore, we
preferred another metaphor, more frank, not pretending to be a terminologically
strict statement (hence, less dangerous), just attributing not to Ephraim, but
to Ephraim's poetry - as if to a personified object - the property of not
noticing itself too much. A more frank metaphor more accurately corresponds to
the essence of the matter: for it really should not be about the subjective
psychology of the poet (which we cannot judge), but about the objective status
of his poetry (which we can and must judge,
It was mentioned above that
in the eyes of contemporaries and descendants, Ephraim was a "prophet of
the Syrians" - not a poet, even a sacred one (like Roman the
Melodist ), not just a
preacher (like John
Chrysostom
) or a church teacher (like Basil the Great or Gregory the Theologian ), but precisely a prophet in other words, he was put
on a par with the prophets of the Old Testament 48
. But the latter, as is known, also had a certain art of elevated and
embellished speech, passed down from generation to generation 49
or from teacher to student 50
, striking the imagination and laying down on memory, that is, effective in a
mnemonic sense 51
. No wonder they form a corporation 52that
keeps this art; cases where a prophetic call comes to a person standing outside
the corporation are exceptions that prove the rule. Whatever experience of
ecstasy (which, to put it mildly, is beyond the competence of a literary
critic) may be behind their word, this word contains skill, tradition, skill,
something that, in the terminology of D.S. Likhachev is called
"etiquette", which means a well-known measure of a conscious attitude
towards technology; just as much as they can be called "artists" at
all, they cannot be defined as "unconscious" or "naive"
artists. On the other hand, however, there is no way to see them as
"writers" - representatives of a certain cultural type, as it is
known from the history of not only modern European or ancient, but even
Byzantine literature, to the extent that we are talking about genres known to
rhetorical theories53
. The opposition between the "prophet" and the "writer" is
not at all the opposition between the "sacred" and the
"profane". A "writer" can be a purely ecclesiastical
author, such as, for example, Simeon Metaphrastus , a Byzantine hagiographer of the 9th-10th centuries,
who corrected and trimmed the old lives of the saints according to the rules of
rhetoric. He can be a saint, a theologian, "father" and
"teacher" of the church, like Gregory
of Nazianzus
, a contemporary of Ephraim, who engaged in versification exercises at his
leisure, when, for example, a poem already written in elegiac distich was
rewritten in iambs or vice versa. A "prophet" is not a
"writer" not because, along with his place in the history of
literature, he also occupies a place in the history of religion, but because
his place in the history of literature is different.
So, firstly, not
an "unconscious artist", and secondly, not a "writer";
these two negations, like landmarks, limit on both sides the specific zone of
"prophetic" poetics, within which both the biblical authors and
Ephraim are located.
Let us try to
bring our involuntarily protracted general discussion to concretization, at
least having previously figured out what exactly this poetics requires
"technicality", and in what - what we called the esoteric artlessness
above. For every viable working system is an equilibrium of mutually compensating
opposites, so that its specificity can never be adequately described by
pointing to one of the opposites, but only by characterizing their
relationship. A magnet with only one pole is an impossible thing.
In an article devoted to the
situation of the image in Ephraim's poetry, there is no place to talk about
metrics in detail, but it is necessary to say a few words on this topic,
because meter and rhythm, as we all know after Tynyanov, color the poetic word
in their own colors, influence the image, organize concatenation of images.
Ephraim's metric differs from the Old Testament metric by a much greater
regularity. As is known, for a Hebrew verse it is enough that in two halves of
a couplet ("verse" of our editions of the Bible) there is the same
number of stresses, and the number of unstressed syllables is completely
arbitrary; as an example, let's take the opening couplet of the Book of
Solomon's Proverbs, in which the rhythm is even more clear and uniform than it
is, generally speaking, usually 54
:
Ladat hochmah
wmusar lhabin "imrej blnah…
In contrast, the
Ephraim verse is based on a rather strict isosyllabism. Here is an example of a
five-syllable from the Hymns of Paradise:
wabram mle rahme d'al Sdom
bad rahme… 55
The similarity between the
one and the other is revealed through opposition to the third; what is
impossible neither in biblical poetry nor in Ephraim is the complex strophic
constructions characteristic of Greek Christian hymnography, the so-called
ikoses, in which each column, that is, a rhythmically closed passage of text,
equivalent in this case to verse 56, can have any
length and any rhythmic pattern you like, but in the cyclic movement of
subsequent stanzas until the very end of the hymn, the columns will each time
return in the same sequence, at the same place within the stanza, with the same
volume and the same rhythmic pattern (approximately as in Pindar's ode the
antistrophe reproduces the order of heterogeneous feet given in the stanza -
only there was a quantitative metric, and here it is tonic) 57.
True, the Madrash of Ephraim (unlike Old Testament poetry 58
) knows the regular division of the text into equal-sized strophic units,
closed by a refrain; but the rhythm of the couplets united in these stanzas is
uniform 59
.
Let's digress from the
musical aspects of the Greek and Syriac types of stanza 60;
let us focus on the consequences that the difference of one and the other type
had for the connection of thoughts and images, for the life of the image in the
space of the text. It is easy to see that the Greek type inspires a heightened
sense of a complete whole, and, moreover, a whole that is built as a developed
hierarchy of levels of integrity: foot - colon - ikos - anthem. The
heterogeneity of the columns, the absence of a simple rhythm running through
the entire text, forces one to an “atomic”, separating perception of rhythmic
units, especially stanzas, and at the same time is compensated by the rigidity
of the symmetry relations acting between the stanzas: like a macrocosm composed
of microcosms. Volume, proportion, aesthetics of a closed form are acutely
felt. A high degree of structured text stimulates the logical-rhetorical
development of the topic “point by point” (the isolation of which, of course,
coincides with division into stanzas). Not only is the anthem as a whole
constructed as a sequence of introductions (according to the old Russian
terminology - "attack") exhausted one after another points and
conclusions, but within the development of each point, the beginning, middle
and end are again singled out61
. There is very little room left for the improvisational principle. It would be
an exaggeration to absolutize the opposition of the Syrian type of stanza to
the Greek; both types have common features, for example, a complex of formal
and meaningful functions transferred to the opposition of the main text and
refrain 62
. However, the Syrian type of stanza, characterized by an even flow of a simple
rhythm from stanza to stanza, leaves the form more open, the whole more
improvisational.
The improvisational
principle of Ephraim's poetry is revealed precisely at the level of the whole,
first of all, as was said above and will be shown below, at the level of
composition; on the contrary, the "technicality" of this poetry is
palpable at the level of the syllable. Ephraim has a lot of play of sounds and
play on words. As an example of the first, let us quote the stanzas from the
1st hymn about Paradise, quoted for the same purpose in the article by F.
Graffen 63
.
Ktlbat bgaljata
sbihat bkasjata "mirat bkaijata tmfliat bsetlata…
An example of the
second is the strange metaphor from the hymn about the seven sons of Samona,
which we will analyze in the next section of the article:
The mother was
adorned like a bird of heaven, for her feathers are her beloved; but she
accepted orphanhood and nakedness, she uprooted and threw away her feathers, so
that in the resurrection she would be able to find them.
This metaphor is
based on a punning consonance: "ebra- "feather", bra-
"son".
Both techniques find many
parallels in the area of "prophetic" poetics, both in the Old
Testament texts 64
and in the Aramaic proto-form of the Gospel texts, as far as the latter can be
reconstructed by back-translation from Greek 65
. The technique of rapprochement of words by consonances (using the
possibilities of Semitic roots in much the same way as Heraclitus used the
possibilities of the roots of the Greek language) is exactly the same in
Ephraim and in the Sermon on the Mount, where, for example, the following question
is asked: “Which of us , caring ( by
- Aramaic - jaseph), can add (Joseph)
to his height? (Gospel of Matt. 6:27). Greek Christian hymnographers, as, generally
speaking, the Greek rhetorical tradition, are not alien to this; one of the
striking examples is the convergence in one pair of “hairetisms” of the
Akathist to the Theotokos 66
images as heterogeneous as the “star” and the “womb” ( αστήρ and γαστηρ ) 67.
But here it is necessary to make a reservation: such a density of
alliterations, assonances, rhymes and puns, which we have just seen in Ephraim
(see above the text given in the transcription), the ancient taste did not
allow. An author who would allow himself something like this would be assessed
as frivolous and extravagant (cf. reviews of the tragedian Agathon,
"Asiatic" rhetoricians, etc.); but in Ephraim's poetry there is a
stern, downright burning seriousness and absolutely no extravagance. For
Greek-speaking hymnographers, the oversaturation of the text with a play on
words and consonances is always a symptom of their departure from the ancient
norm; it is great in the same Akathist to the Theotokos and is noticeable in Roman the
Melodist 68
, but in a significant way it is absent in such a purely classicistic monument
of Byzantine church poetry as iambic canonsJohn of Damascus
69
. To summarize: the Greek rhetorical taste is very fond of the sound game, but
within certain limits (the Hellenic principle of "measure");
Ephraim's poetics does not place any boundaries on it, except for those that
are themselves determined by extreme concentration on meaning - but these are
already boundaries that are not aesthetic, not “taste”.
With all the care that sound
and pun playing requires from the poet, it does not contradict the
improvisational principle. On the contrary, it powerfully stimulates the
operation of this principle, since from time to time it serves as the starting
point for a sudden meditative "illumination" that leads the mind in
an unforeseen direction (we have yet to see that the above-mentioned punning
convergence of the concepts "feathers" and "sons" gives
just such Effect). Therefore, it cannot interfere with that poetics, which we
conventionally called "prophetic". What is contraindicated for the
latter is the author’s desire, characteristic of the ancient tradition and at
least partly revived in Greek-speaking Christian poetry, to stand above the
work, to look at it from above with one glance as a whole and impose on it from
above - precisely as a whole - the measure of his artistic intention. , putting
it in order, putting everything in its place in accordance with the rules of
rhetoric (the very existence of which implies the sovereign position of the
author-orderer). Without this, even such an innocent formal feature as the
complex stanza of Greek church hymns described above is hardly possible. If the
work lies under the gaze and hands of its "demiurge"70
, then his subject, his theme is in front of him, presented to his mental gaze
as a paradigm 71;
his work is twofold - to remove from the subject a scheme that singles out and
systematizes the logical moments of the subject, and then to impose this scheme
on the verbal matter of the work, informing the latter of the
"disposition" (rhetorical term). So, the author is in front of the
subject and above the work: but both prepositions express different modes of
the same thing - detachment, distance, in any case, outsideness. It is
understandable: in order to see the whole as a whole and especially to dispose
of it as a whole, one needs a position outside this whole, even at some
distance from it. Distance provides clarity of vision for both the creator and
his connoisseur partner. The imperative of "prophetic" poetics is
fundamentally different: neither the speaker (author) nor the listener (reader)
dare to remain outside the mystery of the encounter with the object, the
encounter that is conceived - at least in the task - not aesthetic, but real
and concrete; the sacred space of the text accepts both of them inside itself,
and therefore the speaker has power over each specific place of the text, which
he can decorate with any sound pattern, but the whole does not belong to him in
a sense - rather, he belongs to the whole. His mind is not a sovereign master,
controlling the movement of a theme; in the act of meditation the theme moves
on its own and you have to follow it. Instead of distance - closeness, instead
of clarity of sight - involvement. managing the movement of the topic; in the
act of meditation the theme moves on its own and you have to follow it. Instead
of distance - closeness, instead of clarity of sight - involvement. managing
the movement of the topic; in the act of meditation the theme moves on its own
and you have to follow it. Instead of distance - closeness, instead of clarity
of sight - involvement.
Perhaps an example from
another field will clarify the matter. A modern art critic blames Beato
Angelico for the fact that his frescoes in the Florentine monastery of San
Marco are not linked to the architectural context 72
; but Beato Angelico wrote with the monk in mind, who, while engaging in
“divine thinking,” is positively obliged not to see the walls around him and to
concentrate entirely on the sacred image, as it were, drawing him into himself
and withdrawing him from physical space. With such a super-task, breaking the
connection between the fresco and the wall, the aesthetic denial of this
connection is a meaningful moment, moreover, a necessary one. It is very
important that Angelico did not paint the
church, where everyone
gathers, but tiny cells and a monastic corridor, where, in cramped, home-style,
the closed life of “their own” goes on; this is again what we have called the
esoteric artlessness. (The chapel of Pope Nicholas V in the Vatican - for the
"peace" - he painted in a different way.) The parallel with Ephraim
is thus sociologically justified; brothers in the order for the Florentine
Dominican - the same as the "daughters of the Covenant" for the
deacon of Edessa.
And this parallel sheds
additional light on the comparison of Ephraim with his Greek-speaking
colleagues, helping to clarify what remains unclear in the too summary
characterization of the two poetics. Indeed, when we talk about specific
characters in the history of literature, the reality of which, like any
reality, does not indulge us with such pure, fully revealed, uncomplicated contrasts
as those found in the field of general concepts, we cannot do without
questions. . Is it really a Christian hymnographer of the Greek language, like
the same Roman the
Melodist, who directly
served cult needs, did not set himself the same task of involving the listener
in "God-thinking"? Of course I did. Why, then, is his poetics,
aspiring to the biblical model, in many respects close to the poetics of Ephraim,
retains, however, two most important constitutive moments that are opposite to
the very essence of the “prophetic” line: firstly, the rhetorical-logical
development of the theme; secondly, a rhetorical craving for “visibility” (
ένάργεια ), that is, to ensure that everything is “presented before the eyes”
in the most picturesque way possible 73?
There seem to be two answers to this question that complement each other. The
first answer is: due to the specific possibilities and tendencies, specific
"energies" present in the composition of the Greek language - whether
by its linguistic nature or under the influence of millennia of rhetorical
processing - but absent from the composition of the Syriac language 74.
In this plane, the difference between Ephraim and Roman is a historical and
cultural difference between the Near East and the Mediterranean: Ephraim is
"east" of Roman. But for the second answer, we will return to our
parallel and say: Romanus worked differently than Ephraim, in much the same way
that Beato Angelico worked in a Vatican chapel differently than in a Florentine
monastery, introducing pictorial equivalents of rhetoric - the monumentality of
architectural backgrounds, the rationalism of perspective developments, the sequence
of decorative design 75,
- which were only a hindrance to him while he turned to his brother. (If our
comparison is “lame”, it is only in so far as the atmosphere of Syrian
Christianity in the 4th century, still relatively close to the spirit of the
early Christian communities, and Constantinople, that is, metropolitan,
imperial Christianity in the 6th century, in the era of Justinian, differ more
significantly than the atmosphere San Marco and the Vatican in the same 15th
century; but the signs in which they differ are more or less the same.) On this
plane, the difference between Ephraim and Roman is a sociological difference
between microsociety and ceremonial: Ephraim is “more intimate” than Roman.
And now it's time
to consider the principle of Ephraim's poetics, which we called
improvisational, in concrete manifestations.
One of Ephraim's hymns is
dedicated to the mother of the seven martyrs of the Old Testament faith, whose
exploits are mentioned in the Second Book of Maccabees 76
. Both a Greek and a Latin Christian poet of late antiquity or the Middle Ages,
approaching such a topic, would feel obliged to give one of the two forms
described in textbooks on rhetoric - either diegesis, the "narrative"
of martyrdom, that is, the completion of the canonical story with extending
details. 77
, or encomium, "a eulogy" to the martyrs, that is, enlivening the
list of their virtues with metaphors, comparisons, etc. 78
; it is even more likely that he would give a synthesis of both of these forms ..
The completeness of the hymn in itself would be marked by milestones of the
beginning and end - the introduction and conclusion, the function of which is
also to summarize the theme. The introduction and conclusion are structurally
isolated and opposed to the main text; the introduction in Greek kontakia hymns
stands out rhythmically, forming the so-called kukuli 80
, the conclusion stands out intonationally as an appeal - either an admonishing
appeal to the listeners, or a prayerful appeal to God or a saint, but it is the
appeal, peroration, which is different from both the narrative and the
laudatory word .
The first thing
we must note in the hymn of Ephraim we are considering is the absence of an
introduction, as well as a conclusion. Neither the opening nor the closing
stanza has any formal features that would distinguish them and prevent them
from being given any other place in the composition of the hymn. We emphasize -
formal signs: for we have to see how the semantic lines passing through the
hymn intersect in the last verse of the last five lines; but there is
absolutely no verbal "gesture" that would indicate this point of
intersection. The intonation of the initial and final stanzas is the same as in
ordinary stanzas.
A small
reservation is needed for what has been said: in the initial stanza, Ephraim
says something from himself, although without any increase in his voice,
without the posture of an oratorical "attack" - he simply uses the
first person verb, which then does not happen throughout this hymn:
I will liken the mother of
the glorious seven to a series of seven days, and a candlestick with seven
branches, and a house of Wisdom with seven pillars, and the fullness of the
Spirit with seven gifts .
Such an Ich-Stil
at the beginning of the hymn (although not always in the first stanza) is quite
characteristic of Ephraim; Here is how, for example, the VIII madrash about
Paradise begins:
Behold, a verb
ascends to my ears that amazes me; let them read it in the Scriptures, in the
word about the thief on the cross, which very often comforted me amid my many
falls: for He who showed mercy to the thief, I hope, will lead me to Vertograd,
whose name alone fills me with joy ... -
and in the next
two stanzas the poet goes on talking about his feelings, his perplexities:
I see the
prepared chamber and the Tabernacle illuminated by sight,
I already believe
that the robber is in that place, but the thought immediately confuses me ...
[…]
In this place of joy,
sadness comes to me... 82
We return to the hymn about
the mother of the seven brothers-martyrs. As we have seen, it begins with four
similitudes. The stringing of likenesses is a technique extremely
characteristic of biblical aphorism; but the Old Testament parable (mashal), as
a rule, adheres to a symmetrical structure, in which one object corresponds to
one likening, two objects - two likenings. Here are examples from the Book of
Proverbs of Solomon: “Listen, my son
(a), to the instruction of your father
and do not reject (b) the covenant of
your mother: because it is (a) a beautiful wreath for your head and (b)
an ornament for your neck” ( Prov.1:8-9 ); “(a) Fear
the Lord and (b) turn away from evil;
it will be(a) health to your body,
and (b) nourishment to your bones”
( Prov. 3:7–8 ). In the New Testament, a different, concentric
structure appears, in which various similes are located around one, central
object. An example is the thirteenth chapter of the Gospel of Matthew, which
gives a cycle of parables about the Kingdom of Heaven: “The Kingdom of Heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field;
[…] like a mustard seed, which a man took and sowed in his field, […] like
leaven, which a woman took and put into three measures of meal, until it was
all leavened. […] The Kingdom of Heaven is like a treasure hidden in the field,
[…] a merchant looking for fine pearls, […] a net thrown into the sea…” ( Matthew 13:24, 31, 33, 44, 45, 47). As is known, the Christian doctrine systematically
insists on the unity of meaning for a huge number of symbols (when, for
example, all the Old Testament images of an innocent victim or royal majesty
“represent” the one and only Christ, and all images of natural fertility and
the cult “presence” of God in consecrated matter indicate on the miraculous
motherhood of the Virgin Mary); the content structure of the doctrine itself
stimulated the formal structure of "concentric" assimilation and gave
it the opportunity for unusually magnificent development. An example is the
Akathist to the Mother of God, where a total of 144 likenesses are given to the
same subject, that is, the heroine of the hymn. And later in the literatures,
successively connected with the Christian tradition, the paradigm of the
concentric structure retains its productivity:83
, in Catholic everyday life - some sequences, and starting from the era of the
Counter-Reformation and also to the present day - litanies 84
), but also worldly developments that secularize the sacral model (“Strophes on
the death of my father” by the Spanish poet of the 15th century Jorge Manrique,
in which the hero likened in a row to almost all the heroes of Roman history, a
very common scheme of the Baroque sonnet 85
and much more 86
).
Of course,
Ephraim is far from the luxury of the Akathist to the Theotokos and is closer
to the proportions of the Gospel cycle of parables just quoted. In the first
stanza, as we have seen, there are four similitudes, to which a fifth is added
in the next stanza: the mother is likened to a bird, her sons to feathers. The
stanza has already been quoted, and the phonetic, punning motivation for assimilation
has been analyzed (in the previous section of the article).
Now we are
interested in the further movement of the image of the bird in the third
stanza:
In the
resurrection, the mother will soar,
and her loved
ones will fly after her:
whom she carried
in her womb,
whom she gave in
the fire,
Yes, it will be
possible to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven.
Ephraim obviously really
needs the image of death "on fire." The Bible speaks of various methods of torment applied to
brothers: scourging ( 2 Mac. 7:1 ), cutting off the tongue ( 2 Mac. 7:4, 10
), peeling off the skin and cutting off the members of the body ( 2 Mac. 7: 4 ), ripping off the scalp ( 2 Mac. 7:7
), finally, frying in a frying pan, obviously experienced by one of the martyrs
( 2 Mac. 7:5 ), but possibly by others (cf. 7, 8), although this
remains unclear. The picture of fiery death is more or less compatible with the
biblical story, but does not follow directly from it. In Ephraim, it arises in
connection with the image of a bird taking off as a metaphor for resurrection.
The word "phoenix" (introduced into the Syriac language from the
Greek 87)
remains unpronounced; but it is simply impossible not to think about the
phoenix. The notion of the phoenix, which was a popular symbol of the
resurrection for that era 88
, is itself caused by the triple chaining of the associative connection:
"fiery death" - "resurrection" - "flight of a
bird". Along the way, another associative connection arises: the symmetry
"in the womb" and "in the fire." For her, there are
parallels in other texts of Ephraim, for example, in "The Debate of
Marriage with Virginity", a hymn that has survived only in Armenian
translation. Marriage says to Virginity:
For the fact that I carried
you in the womb, I will be saved whole from the fire 89
.
Note that the
symbolic correlation of the pangs of childbirth and the pangs of betraying
children to a fiery death (that is, as if of their second birth in a future
life), which underlies the third stanza, is not explained until the end of this
stanza and is not pronounced in words, but remains implicit in order to obtain
explication in the next, fourth stanza:
The torments
suffered in their death were more severe than birth pangs; in these, as in
them, she showed firmness, for the bonds of the Lord's love are strong,
stronger than the pangs of childbirth and the pangs of death.
Of course, the end of the
stanza means the biblical words: “Love is
strong as death! fierce, like hell, jealousy; her arrows are arrows of fire;
she is a very strong flame” ( Song
8:6 ). Thus, for
those who know the Old Testament text, further development of the “fiery”
imagery has already been given: the “fire” of labor pains and the fire of
torture is opposed to the “fire” of love (mystical) and jealousy (spiritual). The
horizon of the alleged meditative act includes, presumably, the “fieryness” of
angels 90
, as well as the biblical saying that likens the very source of love and
jealousy to fire: “For the Lord your God
is a consuming fire, a jealous God” ( Deut.
4:24). But all this
is offered to the listener or reader only in hint. Ephraim once again acts as
in the third stanza with the image of a phoenix and in the same place with
likening birth pangs to fire; he refrains from directly calling spiritual love
and jealousy "fire", only suggesting, suggesting to the imagination
this image with the help of a fairly clear allusion to the Old Testament text,
but leaving the likeness unrevealed - as we will see, in order to, in one
stanza already without any clarification to introduce the metaphor of spiritual
"fire" as a matter of course.
But before this,
the fifth stanza flows in, interrupting the movement of the theme of fire for a
while:
The mother did
not tolerate that the youngest of all remained like a staff of her gray hairs,
but she broke the staff of her gray hairs; she who was victorious in her sixth
son was not defeated in the seventh.
Here, it seems, there is
nothing special to note, except for the exemplary clear antithetical structure
that organizes the text in the entire volume of the stanza. The antithetical
structure itself is also characteristic of the Middle Eastern, including the
biblical, tradition (the so-called parallelismus membrorum), and of the
technique of ancient rhetoric; but its specific appearance in these historical
and literary areas is different. And if the second antithesis of the stanza
(“she who won in her sixth son was not defeated in the seventh”), perhaps,
without significant changes, can be mentally transferred to the zone of
Greek-language literature, which focuses on rhetorical training, then with the
first antithesis (“... remained, as the staff of her gray hairs, but she broke
the staff of her gray hairs”) such an experiment fails. Two immediately
following each other rhythmic units, in the crampedness of which
(non-transferable in translation) all words, except for a single varying verb,
remain invariant, that is, they are repeated twice in the same order - such a
device for Greek taste would seem an exaggeration; in Ephraim it is very
common, and in Old Testament poetry it also has numerous correspondences91
.
Of particular
interest is the imagery of the sixth stanza:
She tore her sons
from her arms and gave them herself into the fire; multiplied fire and breathed
in the spirit, so that their carnal nature would be transformed into the nature
of angels - into fire and spirit.
Finally, a similarity is
revealed between the material fire that burned the martyrs and the immaterial
"fire" that burned in the martyrs. However, even here there is no
indication of the allegorical nature of the image of fire as applied to zeal
for faith; on the contrary, fire and "fire" are simply equated and
are spoken of as the same thing. Which of them did the mother of the martyrs
“multiply”? Certainly immaterial; but in principle it can also be understood
that, repeating the feat of Abraham, who kindled the fire for the sacrifice of
Isaac, in a fit of zeal she helped the tormentors kindle the material fire,
especially since the words “blowing the spirit” following this suggest the
image of a blowing mouth. "Spirit" - along with "fire" the
second key word of the stanza; but it is necessary to know that in Syriac it is
minimally "spiritualistic." Of course92
; however, the Greek word πνεΰμα , which by Christian times already had a
centuries-old history of functioning in the philosophical language of the
Stoics, was largely reserved for more or less special theological use, 93
and even the Latin spiritus partly weakens the connection with its everyday,
material meaning. "Wind" - in Greek άνεμος , in Latin ventus;
"breath" - in Greek άναπνοή , in Latin spiramen or spiratus (also
flatus - "breath", anhelitus - "heavy breathing", etc.);
thanks to such single-root or foreign-root lexical "doublers" of the
word πνεΰμαand spiritus are released for a "spiritual" meaning - if
not exclusively, then still predominantly. The situation is quite different
with the Syriac riiha – and the corresponding Hebrew gya/i. These are the most
common, commonly used, central words for the concept of “wind” 94
(from which, by the way, the meaning “country of the world” develops, since for
the ancient consciousness the countries of the world generally appear as “four
winds” - cf. Apoc. 7:1 ). The semantics of "wind" is not found
either in Syriac or in Hebrew 95word,
not the slightest tendency to die out, or even to retreat into the background
under the onslaught of "spiritual" meaning. These words are just as
common for the concepts of "breath", "breath". But
"spirit" and specifically "Holy Spirit" (for the Hebrew
language - in the Judaic sense, for the Syriac language - in the Christian
sense, that is, as the third hypostasis of the Trinity) are denoted by the same
words (Heb. ), and in the structure of the vocabulary there is not even a hint
of the distance between everyday and theological use. Behind these linguistic
features stands that property of the biblical worldview, which could only be
called mystical “materialism” only in a purely inaccurate and conditional way,
and which in fact boils down to removing the boundary between the corporeal and
the incorporeal in the “sacrament”.“Having
said this, he breathed, and said to them: receive the Holy Spirit” (Gospel
of John 20:22 ). Just as the water of baptism and the bread of the
Eucharist, according to the Christian doctrine, being material, are identical
with supersensible reality - they do not simply signify it, but are precisely
identical with it - the physical breath (rba) of Christ is identical with the
communicated spiritual charism (riiha). Let us note for the future that in a
certain respect the concept of "sacrament" is comparable with the
concept of "allegory" (since both represent a certain mode of
conjugation of "invisible" meaning and "visible"
materiality). The Syriac word rázanaja, meaning "sacramental, pertaining
to the sacrament", is often translated by specialists according to the
context "allegorically" 96.
Another question is whether such a transfer is ultimately justified. For the
concepts of "sacrament" and "allegory" are comparable just
enough to be essentially opposite. “Mystery” is “mystery” because it is not an
“allegory”, that is, not an allegory: not a distance and a gap between a thing
and meaning, but their incomprehensible identity.
The poetics of
the "sacrament" requires images that are downright shocking in their
concreteness, dense materiality (although not too "plastic", that is,
visual - you can be inside the "sacrament", but you cannot look at it
from the outside, at a distance). We have just seen the mother of the martyrs
"blowing the spirit" into her sons, as if blowing on them from her
mouth. In another hymn, we see Ephraim himself with his mouth open - opening
his mouth to receive the Eucharist turns out to be simultaneously opening the
"mind" to receive inspiration:
Lord, it is written in Your
Book: "Open your mouth, I will fill it" 97
. Behold, Lord, the mouth of Your servant and his mind are open to You! Lord,
fill them with the fullness of Your gift, so that I may sing Your praise in
accordance with Your will. 98
The word “gift”
(in Syriac mawhabta) here means absolutely equally the material Eucharistic
substances and the immaterial gift of “understanding”: the mouth is filled, and
the mind is filled just as concretely, as if bodily.
At the end of the
same hymn, after long reflections on the hierarchy of meanings in worldly and
transcendental being, that is, over rather abstract and “mental” objects, we
are again returned to the same imagery:
Behold, Lord, my hands are
filled with crumbs from Your table, and there is no more room left in my bosom
for anything! I bow my knees before You: keep Your gift with You, keep it in
Your bins in order to bestow upon us again! 99
However, it is time for us
to end this protracted digression and continue our analysis of the sixth stanza
of the hymn about the mother of the brother martyrs. Behind this stanza , as well as the fourth, there is an Old
Testament reminiscence - this time an allusion (again unspoken) to Psalm 103/104 , 3-4 : » . The assimilation of the nature of angels to the nature of fire
and wind - the most subtle, lightest and most mobile elements - is a motif common
to the Old and New Testaments, to Christian literature in various languages 100.
But the absence in the very composition of the lexical stock of the distance
between the “spirit”, and hence the “angel”, and the “wind” is a linguistic
premise common to Hebrew and Syriac figurativeness. Here Ephraim once again
stands very close to the biblical source.
The next, seventh
stanza is a turning point; with it begins instructions to the virgins, which do
not seem to follow from the general theme of the hymn, but are imperiously
demanded by the situation of Ephraim as a mentor of the “daughters of the
Covenant”. It is important for the poet to say a word directly to his girls,
and he resolutely turns onto the path he desires, not at all caring about the
rhetorical harmony of the composition, which would disturb his Greek
counterpart.
To begin with, he needs to
call them to humility and a shameful look at themselves. According to the
peculiarities of the spirit of Syrian Christianity, there was a real danger
that the "sons of the Covenant" and "daughters of the
Covenant" would look upon themselves as the only true Christians. Let us
recall that Manichaeism, which granted the status of a full member of the
community only to an ascetic, arose from the material of Syrian Christian or
near-Christian sectarianism 101
. The mother of seven sons-martyrs is suitable for putting to shame the
possible pride of the “daughters of the Covenant” precisely because she herself
ascended to such a height of sacrificial self-giving, being not a virgin, but a
matron of many children. Ephraim contrasts them with the “foolish virgins” of
the Gospel parable (Gospel of Matt.
25:1–12) is a prototype
of virgins, who by improper behavior destroy the fruit of their own asceticism
and excommunicate themselves from salvation:
Our virgins will
be judged by a mother who has deprived herself of her sons: foolish virgins in
their foolishness leave the care of their vanities, but accept the sons of
vanity.
The motif of
"foolish virgins" is continued in the eighth stanza:
Therefore, in the
embarrassment of the Day of Judgment, the foolish ones who toiled in vain in
their robes will stand naked; there shall be no oil in their vessels, and
darkness shall possess their lights.
These two stanzas
look like a simple digression, a departure from the theme of martyrdom. But
both martyrdom and virginity are the voluntary surrender of oneself as a
sacrifice of “burnt offering”, that is, in full and without reservation. To
express this, the archaic motif of the slain maiden, which is represented in
the Old Testament by the strange story of the daughter of Jephthah ( Judges
11:30–40 ), is very
useful: in the wild, semi-pagan times of the “shofets”, the leader of the tribe
of Israel makes a vow before the battle to sacrifice that creature , who, upon
returning, will meet him at the gate of the house, but this creature turns out
to be his only daughter. The church fathers were often worried about the folly
of the Jephthah vow and the inadmissibility of fulfilling such a vow. But
something else is important to Ephraim - courage and obedience, sounding in the
words of the doomed girl:“My father! you
opened your mouth before the Lord - and do with me what your mouth said when
the Lord took vengeance on your enemies the Ammonites through you ” ( Judg. 11:36 ). Here the daughter of Jephthah is the prototype of
a Christian martyr and at the same time a Christian nun:
The daughter of
Jephthah gave herself up as a sacrifice, the youth loved the edge of the sword,
and in her blood
the father made the sacrifice; but it was given to the simple in their blood to
make a holy offering.
She is so close
to her Christian sisters that Ephraim alludes to the "blood baptism"
doctrine, according to which one who dies for the faith, being unbaptized,
receives a sacramental washing from the filth of sin in his death. This
ablution is contrasted with the ritual prenuptial ablution of the bride, which
the daughter of Jephthah lost, as every maiden who leaves marriage for
martyrdom or monasticism is deprived:
She neglected the
bridal bath, but washed herself with the outpouring of her blood, and made her
body pure; through the effacement of the washing streams, hidden impurity is destroyed.
In the next five
stanzas, starting with the eleventh, the movement of meditative associations is
determined, apparently, by two moments at once. Firstly, an intermediate link
between the position of the mother of the family, which was the heroine of the
hymn, and the position of the virgins, what are the performers and listeners of
the hymn - the position of the pious widow, who was the mother of the family,
but for the rest of her life she chose the asceticism of virginity. In the
conditions of the early Christian communities, and partly also in the
conditions of Syrian Christianity of the era of Ephraim, the "widow"
("true widow", see 1 Tim.
5:5-16) is a real
dignity. Widows were chosen by testing their morals in the past (ibid., 9–10);
we are talking about nothing other than strict proto-monasticism. But the
gospel ideal of the “true widow” is Anna the Prophetess, who, together with
Simeon, was honored to meet the baby Christ in the Jerusalem temple, “a widow
of eighty-four years old, who did not leave the temple, serving God day and
night with fasting and prayer” (Gospel of Lk. 2 :37
). Secondly, a common feature by which one can compare the calling of a martyr
and the calling of a virgin is the undivided wholeness of the sacrificial will
to self-giving. It is Anna the Prophetess Ephraim who chooses as a model of
such integrity of will. We quote (with the omission of the refrain) two stanzas
dedicated to her:
Anna the
Prophetess spent sixty years without despondency in the holy temple, betraying
herself to God after the death of her husbands; left a widow, his soul
betrothed the
incorruptible Bridegroom. […]
She loved the
Lord instead of her husband, she served the Lord in the house of her Lord;
renouncing her bonds, she gave herself up to the Lord, and He made her free.
Already at the end of the
twelfth stanza, as we see, the theme of human freedom arises, as if his
“sovereignty”, his, speaking in the special theological language of Ancient
Russia, “autocracy” (Greek αύτεξουσία, Sir. sultana, also salitUta and msaltuta
- the same Semitic root, as in the Arabic title "Sultan"), that is,
royal calling to an act of will, to choice. This freedom is twofold: firstly, freedom of choice, which gives a
person a chance to submit to God not as a supreme power, but voluntarily and
voluntarily, out of love; secondly, freedom after the (right) choice, freedom
from sin, "freedom to the glory of
the children of God" ( Rom.
8:21). All this in
itself is a general patristic orthodox doctrine. However, if in the Latin West
the controversy with Pelagius prompts Augustine to emphasize the moment of
"grace" and determining "predestination", and Greek
theology, invariably recognizing free will, is still predominantly occupied
with other problems, then Syrian theologians speak of the "autocracy"
of man with special emphasis 102
. Ephraim devotes the thirteenth and fourteenth stanzas to the question of free
will:
By free will, as
her Lord, she accepted God, who did not compel her;
God has entrusted all freedom to us , so that we entrust
our freedom to Him and become heirs of His Kingdom.
As long as the
free will of people listens only to itself, remains a slave; when he entrusts
himself to God, he truly becomes completely free; For the Lord's dominion is
good.
The concluding
words of the fourteenth stanza once again outline the key concept, which is to
be the center of a long, detailed reflection; in a whole ten stanzas - from the
seventeenth to the twenty-sixth, we will talk about the correct choice of the
will, recognizing "good" and distinguishing it from "evil".
But the movement of meditation is interrupted again. Saying goodbye to the
image of Anna the Prophetess, Ephraim wants to imprint with possible energy in
the imagination of his maidens this example of concentration and love for God,
trusting their conscience with such a measure and reproaching the negligent and
uncollected; the fifteenth and sixteenth stanzas are devoted to this:
Anna loved her
God, and served Him in His house, and contemplated His beauty unceasingly,
never turning her eyes away from Him, not being satisfied with the vision of
His face.
And
But the virgins
of Christ, alas, wander outside their homes, and in their abode are distracted
by their minds; the body in the gate, but the soul is not there, lazily outlive
their life.
Turning from
stanza seventeen to the theme of choosing the true "good", Ephraim
finally returns to the plot of the martyrdom of the seven brothers, which, as
we remember, was left even after the sixth stanza - ten stanzas earlier.
Actually, all seven were faced with a choice, and the biblical story gives the
words of the first six brothers, summarizing the choice of each of them ( 2 Mac. 7:2, 8-9, 11, 14, 16, 18-19). Why is Ephraim in a hurry to immediately move on to
choosing the last, younger brother? Firstly, the contrast between the young age
of the martyr and the firmness of his mind and will is not only especially
touching, but also especially edifying, opening up the possibility of reproach:
there is no justification for weakness in adulthood if the youth has conquered
weakness in tender years! Secondly, according to the biblical story, only the
younger brother was not only intimidated, like others, but also flattered with
temptations: “Antiochus […] convinced the
youngest, who still remained, not only with words, but also with oaths that
enrich him and make him happy if he departs from the laws of his fathers, that
he will have him as a friend and entrust him with honorable positions ” ( 2 Mac. 7:24). This brings the situation of a martyr closer to
that of an ascetic and a virgin, normally tempted not by threats, but by temptations.
But the martyr also has a cruel threat in front of him, which especially
sharpens his choice:
Oh, marvelous
athlete of God, venerable son of Samonin! Testing the strong, the tyrant placed
him between tortures and baits, between bliss and the bitterest evils.
An evil king
promises “bliss” (tuba), “good” (tUbta), but his promises are lies, for evil
cannot be a source of good. And this conclusion is also true in its inverted
form: the sorrows given by God are served for good, because goodness cannot be
a source of evil. The criterion for distinguishing, recognizing good and evil
should be the thought of the source of both:
Again and again
the tyrant promises him good; but how can good be given who is wholly deprived
of good? In his very good he was evil, and his blessings brought grief.
[…]
Seeing that the
sufferers were protected against the evil caused by them, the evil one changed
his intention: protecting in order to harm, he promised good things, but
through his blessings he would cause evil.
As soon as the murderous
Father of Lies, even when he presents himself as good, we should understand
that God is good even then when He gives evil, and leads us to
bliss through sorrows.
At the end of the
nineteenth and twentieth chapters, another criterion is outlined - the idea of
\u200b\u200bgoal. Any good must be evaluated depending on whether it leads a
person to his goal, that is, the “highest good” (and then it remains good even
with the appearance of evil), or leads away from the “highest good” (and then
turns into evil) . The correct choice is correct insofar as the “highest good”
is chosen in it. This is the theme of the twenty-first stanza:
The evil one
covered himself with a mask, so that he could present himself as good and
deprive the sufferers of the highest good; but they chose to endure evil, so
that they would not deprive themselves of the highest good.
Curiously, it refers to the
“sufferers,” that is, to all seven brothers; but already in the next stanza,
the only hero will again be only the younger brother. We have to see what
opportunity Ephraim is giving up. The biblical text (which originated in the
Hellenistic era, in Greek and not without the influence of Greek rhetorical
models) provides a visual, dramatized unfolding of the plot through the
sequence of the choice and martyrdom of each of the brothers, culminating in
the choice and martyrdom of the younger brother. One can imagine what Roman
Sladkopevets
would do with this compositional scheme , how he would carefully preserve it in
its harmony, enriching it with details, that is, increasing its visibility.
Ephraim is not interested in either the visibility of the detail or the harmony
of the composition.
His "thinking"
continues on its way. The martyr, having made the right choice, accurately
separating good from evil and essence from appearance, deserves praise
primarily for his mind. A mature mind is characteristic of an old man, but a
young man shows it; amazement before this is a common place, equally
characteristic of Syriac and Greek literature of patristic times 103
. “I see that you, although young in years, are already an old man in mind” 104 - these words have varied in hagiography and
hymnography countless times. It is easy to see why the emphasis on free will
logically leads to a kind of "intellectualism" (in no way connected
with what is usually called rationalism): if a person's choice is free, every
vice and sin, any licentiousness and laziness, any disobedience
and apostasy is an error in choice, a miscalculation, an incorrectly taken
angle to the guidelines of being, that is, stupidity. A “fool” (nalpal), and
not a “villain” or something like that, is called by the biblical text of one
who “said in his heart: there is no God” (psalm 13/14, 1; in the synodal
translation - “fool” ). In the semantics of the single-rooted Hebrew word
rfbalah, the meanings of “foolishness” and “sin” coincide without a trace: sin
as stupidity and stupidity as sin 105
. New
Testament , coming into
conflict with the specific "intellectualism" of the scribes and
Pharisees, rejecting "carnal" and "worldly" wisdom as false
( 1 Cor.
1:18-29 ), glorifying
the mystery of God, hidden from the "wise and prudent" and revealed
to babies (Gospel ofOK. 10:21 ), holds in principle the view of sin as stupidity,
and the right choice - as an act of the mind, "prudence". The wisdom
of the world and the flesh is so thin that it is stupid, “enveloped”. The image
of souls coming to salvation is “wise” virgins, the image of souls perishing is
“foolish” virgins (Gospel of Matt.
25:1-12 ).
Believers need to
be smart, “wise as snakes” (ibid., 10, 16). And when Ephraim praises the
martyr, who acted very recklessly from the worldly point of view, precisely for
his prudence, he fully stands in the biblical tradition.
Stanzas
twenty-two to twenty-five deal with this theme:
The youngest
judged in his mind what is good and what is evil, and the good that the tyrant
offered, in accordance with the truth, considered it to be evil, and his evil
to be good. […]
Therefore, awake
and wise, he chose that which brings triumph; the young lad showed himself to
be an old man of great experience in mind, and his mind was like a melting
furnace.
And
He placed in his
heart what was offered to him as a fire: he tempted the good that was promised
to him, and he saw the curse in him, but through the torment he gained triumph.
He rejected the
good that was promised to him, seeing a curse from him, and the tyrant was
outraged by him, when the Evil One multiplied his torment, while the Good One
adorned his crown.
The close of the
twenty-fifth stanza is curious in that, for the first time in the entire length
of the hymn, there is a direct verbal connection with the hymn's refrain, which
reads: "Blessed is he who crowns his faithful!" The second time such
a connection will appear, as we shall see, is towards the end of the last
stanza of the hymn. The distance between the main text and the refrain, the
isolation of the refrain from the main text is great. The game involving the
refrain in the "action", in the system of dialogic replicas of the
main text, so characteristic of the Greek-language hymnography of the era of Roman the
Melodist(when, for
example, the words of the refrain about King Herod: “his power will soon be
destroyed,” returning once again, put into the mouth of the faithful Herod’s
soldiers with denial), is alien to Ephraim. The tricks of rhetorical ingenuity,
aimed at building unexpected connections between the unchanged text of the
refrain and alternately substituted speakers, are unfamiliar to him. The
opposition of stanza and refrain remains very simple, as in a folk song; and
even such a slight underlining of the connection between them with the help of
the word “crown” (killa) is not the norm, but a special case.
Stanzas
twenty-six to twenty-eight are linked by the key word "violence"
(qtira). It has three lines of thought. Firstly, it is a contrast between the
worldly consciousness, which sees in “violence” a dishonor for the victim of
this “violence”, and the victory of the martyr over false notions of dishonor
and honor. Secondly, it is a contrast between the ordinary situation, when the
young man is “violently” turned away from pleasures, and the situation of
martyrdom, when the young man was “violently” forced to pleasures, but rejected
them. Thirdly, this is the contrast between the behavior of the sinner, who
himself carries out "violence" in relation to the moral-religious
law, violating it for the sake of those forbidden pleasures, and the behavior
of the martyr, who endures "violence" in order not to touch the
forbidden.
He was not afraid
of the dishonor inflicted on him by a tyrant who promised him honor; us from
violence - both fear and shame, but the young man could equally despise
violence from a tyrant and honor from him.
And
The tyrant
compelled him by force, so that the inexperienced will taste comforts; Think of
youth, even with a bridle from tasting pleasures, you can’t keep it, but a
tyrannical young man restrained himself!
Well, if we are
foolish from our Lord, forbidden to us
acceptable,
violating the holy covenant!
That the young
man, having conquered violence, rejected -
applying
violence, we are looking for!
Obviously,
Ephraim continues to keep his "daughters of the Covenant" in mind.
The martyr in his image appears first of all as a hero of refusal, abstinence,
self-restraint, that is, an example for ascetics and virgins. But there are
other examples that are even more directly relevant. And now, after the
twenty-eighth stanza, Ephraim once again and finally leaves the plot from the
Second Book of Maccabees, recalling the martyrs of chastity - first biblical,
then early Christian.
The twenty-ninth
stanza recalls the temptation of Joseph the Handsome by Potiphar's wife, who
slandered the chaste young man and sent him to prison for refusing to marry her
( Genesis
39:7–20 ). The key word
here is "nudity" ("artelajUta); as is known, Joseph fled from
the temptress, leaving his clothes in her hands, and therefore the very state
of "nudity", which is usually associated with temptation, served as a
victory over temptation:
Once upon a time,
the young man Joseph found a dangerous cove, a great evil, fell into the
network prepared for the young; in nakedness they sought to destroy him, but in
his nakedness he broke the net.
The thirtieth
stanza contrasts the situation of Joseph, when a woman acts as a seducer and
persecutor, and a man acts as a martyr of chastity, the reverse situation of
the feminine martyr of chastity Susanna, slandered and thrown into the danger
of execution by lustful elders (deuterocanonical short story, Dan. 13 ) . Unlike Joseph, Susanna remains unnamed. An
"animal" metaphor dominates the stanza: the elders are wolves,
Susanna is a lamb, Joseph is a lion cub, Potiphar's wife is a heifer. It is
interesting that early Christian art gives an exact parallel to this metaphor:
the fresco of the Catacombs of the Pretextatus in Rome depicts a lamb surrounded
by two wolves, and the inscriptions above her head and the head of one of the
wolves read “Susanna” and “old men”, respectively.
Two wolves,
weighed down by old age, were inflamed with a lamb in the garden; on the
contrary, the lion cub, seeing the heifer in the bedchamber, fled from her,
constrained her nature, restrained her smoothness.
“In the
bedchamber” - these words become the link connecting this stanza with the next,
thirty-first. The bedchamber is a secret place, and what happens in it is done
“in secret,” but the feat of the martyr of chastity, accomplished “in secret,”
does not cease to be, like any martyrdom, a “confession” of God’s truth, a
“testimony” of it. But the key word that organizes the newest stanza is
"fire": this is how the thread of "fiery" imagery, which
played such an important role in the third and sixth stanzas, is picked up.
This time "fire" is a burning lust that tests the steadfastness of a
virgin, just as the stamina of a martyr is tested by the fire of torture. To be
"in the bedchamber" means for Joseph to be "in the fire";
his martyrdom is "not kindled" in this flame.
In the
bedchamber, Joseph was a confessor and secretly bore witness to God; the
confessor bears his witness by those who endure the torment of the fire, but
Joseph by those who are not kindled in the fire.
We are nearing the end of
the anthem. On a formal level, nothing foreshadows the end; no intonation
signals, no “but full!” – as in the Odes of Pindar 106.
But the two themes that ran like intermittent stitches through the entire hymn
- the theme of martyrdom, given by the plot of the hymn, and the theme of
virginity, given by its purpose - almost met. Almost, because in the episodes
of Joseph and Susanna, both themes appear in an unequal form. The chaste
characters of the Old Testament are only prototypes of Christian martyrdom and
Christian virginity. They were not martyrs, because their suffering had a happy
end on earth. They did not take a vow of celibacy: Susanna is generally a
matron, a husband's wife, and Joseph will have to marry Asenef. Now Ephraim
needs examples of a different kind: examples of true martyrdom in the full
sense of the word, comparable to the images of the mother and seven brothers,
and examples of votive virginity that could be offered for direct imitation of
the “daughters of the Covenant”. Such images
In the days of
persecution, virgins of tender years entered into battle, and acquired a crown;
there was a time of strength, and the spirit was strong. In them the truth has
established itself, but in us the victory is ruled by a lie.
Having fallen
into the hands of the enemies of purity, they kept their purity, having
especially improved their reward - the crown of suffering and virginity, the
crown: and each is doubly strong to the other.
The reader can be
convinced of what he was warned about at the very beginning of the analysis of
the hymn: there is no rhetorical conclusion, that is, no verbal “gesture” of
peroration, which is mandatory for Greek-speaking kontakia, at the end of the
hymn - just as there was no rhetorical introduction at the beginning of the
anthem, "attack". There is no intonationally emphasized appeal to the
heavens or to the listeners, the final “raising the voice”, giving the form a
roundness, is absent. (Ephraim reproaches the listeners for the last time, or,
what is the same, himself, not in the final stanza, but in the previous one,
and this repentant and reproachful remark - "in us, the lie rules
victory" - is decisively no different either formally or meaningfully from
similar passages throughout the anthem, and cannot function as a closed form
factor.)
But the act of
meditation, the act of "thinking God" has been brought to an end,
fulfilled, completed. This completeness is even marked in its own way at the
verbal level - only in a specific way, corresponding to the poetics of Ephraim:
with the help of key words. There are two points to note here.
First, once
again, and much more expressively than last time (in the twenty-fifth stanza),
the word "crown" (klila), thirty-three times prompted and suggested
by the refrain, becomes the center of the stanzas themselves - both final ones.
The moving forward main text and the cyclically returning refrain, calling to
each other from a certain distance - please remember what was said above about
the distance that the Syriac hymnography, unlike the Greek one, maintains
between the stanza and the refrain - converged on the image of the
"crown". In other words, this image, given in the refrain from the
very beginning, is revealed in the subject matter of the main text and is
already returned to the refrain from the main text. His verbal fixation is a
sign of a solved problem.
Secondly, the
concepts of “martyrdom” and “virginity”, which alternately constituted the
theme of “God-thinking”, approached, moved closer to each other in meditative
work, as if exchanging characteristics (martyrdom as a feat of abstinence,
chastity as a feat of steadfastness), even preliminary conjugated during
mediation of their likenesses (Joseph and Susanna as "prototypes" of
martyrs and virgins, although not martyrs and not virgins), - these concepts
are finally called by their proper names, pronounced. Moreover, they appear as
combined attributes of the same persons - the virgin martyrs of early
Christianity; they are fully conjugated with each other - and with the image of
the "crown". The words "martyrdom" - "virginity"
- "crown" dominate the entire verbal composition of the anthem; and
now they are all together, all close. In the poetics of Ephraim, this is such a
serious event,
If we, following
the example of Ephraim, allow ourselves a pun, the line "a crown of
suffering and a crown of virginity" is truly the "crown" of the
entire hymn.
Notes
8Between "explanation" and "covering": the situation
of the image in the poetry of Ephraim the Syrian // Eastern Poetics: The
Specificity of the Artistic Image / Ed. ed. P. A. Grintser. M., 1983, p.
223–260.
9In the "Short Literary Encyclopedia" the concept of
"Syrian literature" without any reservations is given a definition:
"literature of the Syrian people in Arabic" (KLE, vol. 6, stb. 867.
M., 1971). The article does not name any of the central figures of Syrian
literature of the era of formation and prosperity - neither Vardesan
(Bar-Daisan), nor Afraat (Afrahat), nor Ephraim Sirin(Afrem), neither Curillon
nor Philoxenus of Mabbog (Xenia); the name of the mysterious early Syrian
author Mara bar Sarapion is grossly distorted, and the writer and
scholar-encyclopedist Gregory Abul Faradj bar Ebrey, who tried to revive Syriac
literature in the 13th century, is mentioned unintelligibly, without indicating
the era when he lived, and genres, in which he worked. In the Great Soviet
Encyclopedia (3rd ed.), the section on literature in the article
"Syria" generally begins directly with the Arab authors of the
Caliphate era (BSE, vol. 23, p. 459. M., 1976), although a little higher , in
the article "The Syriac language", you can read: "It has a rich
literature of the 5th-17th centuries." (ibid., p. 450). All the more
important is the work of the honored domestic specialist Nina Viktorovna
Pigulevskaya (“Culture of the Syrians in the Middle Ages”, M., 1979), which, unfortunately,
saw the light after her death.
10Syrian influence, which was most tangible in the field of plastic arts,
in the VI-VIII centuries. reached Ireland via Spain, cf. Hillgarth 1961, p.
442–456.
elevenA stele erected in 781 in the Chinese district of Xianfu with an
inscription in Syriac and Chinese, indicating the presence of a Christian community
led by a Syrian bishop (of the Nestorian faith), is widely known. Numerous
monuments testify to the presence of Syrian influence in Central Asia, cf.
Pigulevskaya 1979, p. 23, 170, 221. As regards India, the history of the
"Christians of St. Thomas" on the Malabar coast, dating back to the
first centuries of our chronology, was invariably associated with Syria as a
traditional metropolis (the Syrian rite of worship, etc.), cf.: Roe 1892.
12The heyday of Syriac Christian hymnography in the 4th century. almost
two centuries ahead of the rise of the Byzantine kontakion (while the first
steps of Latin hymnography, also dating back to the 4th century - Hilary,
Ambrose of Milan , - led in a completely different direction). The first
great hymnographer of Byzantium, Roman the Melodist, it was not by chance
that he came to Constantinople from Berytus (modern Beirut). One can hardly
deny (as the prominent Greek patrolologist P. Christou tends to do) the
influence of certain genre structures worked out by Syriac authors on the very
foundations of the kontakion genre; here we should mention madrash with its
characteristic balance of exegetical-homiletic and proper poetic elements and
sogita with its inherent possibilities of dialogic dramatization of the sacred
plot, as if played out “in persons”, cf.: Dalmais 1958, p. 243–260.
13See: Pigulevskaya. Decree. op. With. 141–149; Copleston 1962, b. 211–238.
14Especially tangible in the Russian tradition is the influence of the
eschatological imagery of Ephraim as the author of The Lay on the Last
Judgment, cf. Fedotov 1935, p. 119 and others. However, the belonging of this
work to Ephraim, as it was known in Greek and Slavic translations, is disputed.
In any case, the "spirit" of Ephraim's work, the typical motives of
Ephraim are present in it.
15In the 1836 poem "The Hermit Fathers and the Immaculate Wives..."
16As you know, the traditional Russian designation of Isaac of Nineveh is
" Isaac the Syrian " (together with Ephraim the Syrian ), or "Isaac the
Syrian". About Dostoevsky as an attentive reader of Isaac, who learned a
lot from him, for example, for the arguments of the elder Zosima about hell as
the impossibility of loving, see: Dostoevsky 1976, note, passim; and also:
Grossman 1922, p. 45.
17Acts of the Apostles 11:26.
18It is characteristic that the Roman emperors, who were sympathetic back
in the 3rd century. to Christianity and this partly anticipated the policy of
Constantine - people from the East, like the Syrian Alexander Severus (whose
mother Julia Mamea, when she was in Antioch, invited the famous Christian
theologian Origen), and later Philip the
Arab. As an ideology that opposes both Greco-Roman paganism and Persian
Zoroastrianism and, insofar as it sanctioned the identity of the border peoples
- both the Arabs in the south and the Armenians in the north, but above all the
Syrians - Christianity replaces the Jewish faith in the zone of
"buffer" states, which had the same functions. It is worth recalling
the conversion to Judaism of the Adiabene (Syrian) queen Helen around 30, the
situation of the Jews in Edessa on the eve of the Christianization of the
latter (see: Philips 187b) and the spread of Judaism among the Arabian tribes,
etc. About the specific coloring that Christianity received in the context
ethnic identity of individual peoples of the Middle East, cf. sharp and really
deep, although unnecessarily “prophetic” (in the spirit of the traditions of
German idealism) remarks in the work of A. Dempf (Dempf 1964, S. 258–276). For
the question of Christianity in Syria, see Barnard 1978, p. 194–223.
19See Philips. Op. cit
20See: Shifman 1977, p. 285–297.
21See: Loofs 1924. The latest attempts to reconsider Paul's political
personality seem to us unfounded.
22The history and especially the prehistory of the most ancient
translations of the Bible into Syriac (the so-called "Peshitta" and
others) are, due to poor documentation, a lot of controversy, but, in any case,
go back no less than to the 2nd century BC. Apparently, the Syrian consolidated
Gospel of Tatian belongs to the 170s (see: Pigulevskaya, op. cit., pp. 116–117).
23Cf.: Black 1967.
24Wed quote from ps. 10, 4 in the first words of Roman's kontakion for the
Week of Vaii (No. 16 according to Maas-Tripanis, No. 32 according to Grodidier
de Maton).
25As you know, the opening words of the "Confession" are taken
from Ps. 144, 3.
26After the discovery of private letters from administrative documents of
the Roman era on papyri from Egypt greatly enriched our knowledge of everyday
“koine”, a number of words and phrases that were considered biblical words can
no longer be considered as such (cf.: Deissmann 1909, S. 37 –99). But with this
necessary reservation, the concept of biblicalisms is not abolished, the
problem of biblicalisms is not removed.
27See our translation of this sequence; Monuments of Medieval Latin
Literature…, p. 189.
28In the famous letter 22, Jerome tells how in a dream the angels scourged
him, and the Judge reproached: “You are not a Christian, but a Ciceronian!”
29Compare: Brockelmann 1928, p. &8–94.
thirtyFrom the vast literature on Bfrem we point out: Pigulevskaya. Decree.
op., p. 130–140; El-Khoury 1976.
31Bardenhewer 1924, S. 342.
32Compare: Wright 1902.
33The third deacon in the history of early Christian hymnography is Jared,
the hero of Ethiopian legends.
34Compare: Pigulevskaya. Decree. op., p. 132–133; Baumstark 1922, S. 35,
Fufinote 2.
35Under the name of Gregory of Nyssa, a word of praise to
Ephraim has been preserved (Migne. PG, t. 46, col. 819–850). A number of
Ephraim's writings have come down only in Greek translation; however, their
belonging to Ephraim is often disputed, and in general the “Greek Ephraim” is
one of the difficult problems of patrology, see: Hemmerdinger-Iliadon 1950,
col. 800–815.
36The influence of Ephraim's eschatological motifs is recorded in the
alliterative poem about the end of the world "Muspilli" (end of the
8th - beginning of the 9th century, Bavarian monastic environment) and in the
rhymed arrangement of the Gospels of Otfried of Weissenburg (c. 865, the circle
of Raban Maurus). To this list should also be added the Anglo-Saxon poet of the
9th century Kyunevulf. See Grau 1908.
37See Andrae 1932, pp. 71–72; Beck 1951, S. 71, Fimnote 2; Grqffin 1968,
p. 103, note 1.
38Baumstark Op. cit., S. 35.
39See Beck 1958, pp. 341–360; Barnard. Op. cit, p. 202–207.
40According to the hagiographic tradition, even the famous Christmas hymn
of Roman the Melodist ( Η * παρθένος σήμερον ... - 24 long stanzas, united by a
strictly logical plot unfolding, shining with careful rhetorical finishing of
the syllable and impeccably sustained complex metrical organization) is nothing
but a divinely inspired improvisation (motive , repeated in all hagiographic
texts about Roman, for example, in the note Minology of Basil Π - Migne. PG, t.
117, col. 81; cf.: Averintsev 1977a, p. 448-449). This legend is very
interesting to the historian of hagiographic topoi; but if the historian of
hymnography can draw anything from it, then perhaps the most general (although,
perhaps, not always superfluous) reminder that even such a finished hymn of
Romanus is, in its internal assignment, not quite a “work of literature” in
that sense in which the Aeneid is a work of literature, so that Virgil's poetry
allows for an interest in the details of the psychology of creativity
(manifested, for example, in Suetonian's biography of Virgil, ch. 22-24), while
Roman's poetry does not (and one of the functions of the legend is block the
possibility of such interest); in other words, Roman still stands between a
"writer" and, say, a biblical prophet, although he is much closer to
a "writer" than Ephraim.
41Wed attempts to introduce, for the convenience of the reader,
explanatory headings for the psalms and chapters of the epistles in the
standard German editions of Luther's translation of the Bible (missing from
Luther); The contrast between the straightforwardness of the title and the
unpredictability of the movement of thought in the text is quite instructive.
42As well as their followers in modern times - not only the ode painters
of classicism, but also the young Goethe and Hölderlin.
43Gasparov 19806, p. 368.
44Ibid, p. 374.
45Gasparov 1980a, p. 354.
46According to the report transmitted by Sozomen, Ephraim wrote a total of
about three million (!) couplets (Hist. eccl. Ill, 16, Migne, PG, t. 67, col.
1088 B).
47Compare, for example: Lehmann 1941, S. 71–74; Lewis 1967, p. 1–5.
48And also, perhaps, the charismatics of the early Christian communities,
from whose spirit so much was preserved by Syrian Christianity in the time of
Ephraim. New Testament texts speak of "prophets" as a universally
recognized rank in the elementary church: "whoever prophesies speaks to
men for edification, exhortation, and consolation" (1 Corinthians 14:3).
49The words of Amos: "I am not a prophet and not the son of a
prophet" (Book of Amos 7, 14) - suggest the heredity of the prophetic
dignity as the norm (cf. below note 44).
50This is the relationship between Elijah and Elisha (1 Kings 19:16-21; 4 Kings
2:2-14).
51Compare: Hempel 1939, p. 113–132; Sellin, Fohrer 1969, pp. 380–392.
52The everyday, social characteristic of the phenomenon of Old Testament
prophecy includes, for example, the story about Saul: “When they came to the
hill, behold, they met a host of prophets, and the Spirit of God descended on
him, and he prophesied among them. All who knew him yesterday and on the third
day, seeing that he was prophesying with the prophets, said among the people to
each other: what has become of the son of Kisov? Is Saul among the prophets?!”
(1 Kings 10, 10-11). It is precisely the fact that a person who has always
stood outside the corporation (“the host of prophets”), by sudden inspiration,
joined in their ecstasy, causes amazement; this was not normal. Another name
for the corporation, emphasizing the sign of hereditary belonging to it (see
note 41 above), is “sons of the prophets”. It is assumed to be generally
understood, for example, in 2 Kings 2, 3: “And the sons of the prophets who
were at Bethel went out to Elisha,
53On the opposition between the types of "prophet" and
"writer", as well as on the significance of the very fact of the
existence of a rhetorical theory for the constitution of the type of
"writer", see: Averintsev 1971, p. 206–266.
54The problems of Hebrew metrics remain largely obscure. There are
numerous attempts to explain deviations from the metric norm, as we understand
it, by interpolations; but the very possibility of this kind of interpolation
(the Greek hexameter interpolator will add an extra line, but not an arbitrary
number of words) indicates that the norm was not very clearly felt.
55De Paradiso 1, 12, 5.
56As applied to texts, in the traditional notation of which there is no
graphic division into verses, the concept of verse is conditional. Some
substitute for highlighting our "line" is the asterisk, which marks
the end of the column in the manuscripts of Byzantine hymnographic texts.
57For example, here is a diagram of each stanza from Roman's most famous
Christmas carol.
58In modern Hebraic studies, attempts are being made to reconstruct the
regular strophic structure in such monuments of Hebrew poetry as the “song of
wisdom” in the Book of Job, ch. 28 (specially the repetition in verses 12 and
20 is considered as a remnant of a refrain that fell out in other places; it is
generally assumed that the structure is obscured by later deformations), see:
Fohrer 1963. However, these attempts remain purely hypothetical.
59This uniformity is sometimes interrupted a little; for example, in a
stanza of twelve quintuples, the eighth quintuple may be replaced by a
two-syllable.
60The complex stanza of Greek church hymns, like the complex stanza of
Pindar, was, no doubt, connected with the shape of the returning melody, see:
Wellesz 1949; Wellesz 1957; Wellesz 1966; Werner 1959.
61Aristotle, for another reason (in connection with the characterization
of the ideal epic action), defines “whole and finished” as “having a beginning,
a middle and an end” (“Poetics” XXIII, 59a 18, translated by M. L. Gasparov).
We had to write about the importance of the phenomenon of the introduction for
the ancient understanding of the literary text as an aesthetic whole, a form
closed in itself, in another place: clear contours, unable to shrink or spread
in violation of its measure ... ”(Averintsev 1971, p. 224).
62We have considered these functions in relation to Roman's hymns
(Averintsev 1977a, pp. 210–220).
63Graffin 1968, b. 16.
64Examples of sound and word play are abundant in the blessings of Jacob
(Genesis 49:3-27) and Moses (Deuteronomy 33:1-29), see: Sellin, Fohrer. Op.
cit., S. 71.
65Such a reconstruction was carried out by a whole branch of Semitology in
the Anglo-Saxon countries. The results of the work of several generations of
scientists are summed up in the book by M. Black (Black. Op. cit.).
66The first ikos, the ninth and tenth hayretisms.
67For this system of paired conjugations, see: Averintsev 1977a, p.
234–236.
68One of the most striking examples is the Good Thursday hymn about the
betrayal of Judas (No. 17 according to the edition of Maas-Trypanis).
69Xydes 1948.
70As is known, the word "demiurge", applied by Plato and the
Platonists to the creator of the universe, was normally used in Greek when
applied to the master. Another word - " ποιητής " - designates in the
Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed God as the
"creator" of heaven and earth; one of the meanings of the same word
is "poet".
71“If the demiurge of any thing looks at the invariably existing and takes
it as a prototype when creating the idea and potential of this thing,
everything will necessarily turn out beautiful” (“Timaeus”, 28a, trans. S. S.
Averintsev: Platon 1971, p. 469 ; .
72Danilova 1970, p. 163.
73For the principle of ενάργεια as one of the central characteristics of
the Greek literary tradition, see: Averintsev 1971, p. 224–229. The means of
creating visualization in Roman's poetics are still to be studied, but one can
first note the saturation of the text with participial constructions that
clarify the circumstances of the mode of action; for example, in the Christmas
hymn about Mary worshiping the Christ child - “having drooped ( κύψασα ), she
bowed, and for a - weeping ( κλαίουσα ), she said ...” (No. 1 according to the
edition of Maas-Trypanis).
74For the difference between "Greek thinking" and "Syriac
thinking", that is, the linguistic determination of thought and
imagination in Greek and Syriac Christian literature, see Adam 1965, pp. 96-102.
75Cf. Argan 1955, pp. 101–109.
762 Maccabees 7:1-41. We are talking about the Jews executed for loyalty
to the paternal religious traditions during the time of the Hellenistic monarch
Antiochus IV Epiphanes (175-164 BC), in whom the church saw fellow Christian martyrs; in the Orthodox
calendar, they are given a special holiday on August 1, Christian tradition
calls them names that are not named in the biblical text.
77An example is the most characteristic and successful hymns from the
cycle dedicated to the martyrs of the Latin Christian poet of the 4th-5th
centuries. Prudentia "Peristefanon" - about Saints Lawrence, Eulalia,
Vincentius, Cassian, Roman, Hippolyte, Agnes. A more or less pure dominance of
the narrative element is observed in all 14 poems of this cycle.
78Such, for example, is the hymn of Romanus the Melodist to all martyrs
(No. 59, according to the edition of Maas-Trypanis). This also includes small
hymns, which are usually called "stichera" and "praises." A
late textbook of rhetoric, already summarizing the experience of Byzantium in a
different era, offers an exemplary encomium to the martyrs: “... Did you
mention a martyr; then at the same hour he gave him a thousand crowns of snot,
and with one word he concluded innumerable panegyrics and commendable words.
Martyrs, if you don't know yet, by strength, veins, and soul are the essence of
all Christian living. They are the Pillars, upon whom rage and ferocity have
been squandered by the wrath of the Torturers inflamed. They are bright
candles, which in the darkness of the Idol of service shone brighter than the Sun.
They are the very Briarei, who fought with hundreds of hands, and still wanted
so many bodies for themselves, for greater resistance to their enemies ... ”-
etc. (Zlatoslov ... 1779, p. 22-23).
79Such, for example, are both hymns of Roman in honor of the 40 martyrs of
Sebaste (No. 57 and 58 according to the edition of Maas-Tripanis).
80Kukuly - letters, “hood”, as it were, the “cap” of the hymn: the
beginning of the kontakion or akathist, a special introductory stanza,
connected with other stanzas (ikos) by a common refrain, but differing from
them in a different metric structure, smaller size and specific content
“prooimia” (either a concise summary of the topic, or an appeal to God or
believers).
81Here and below our translation, according to the edition: Ephraem 1889,
coll. 685–695.
82Hymn. De Paradiso VIII ("Corpus Scriptorum Christianorum
Orientalium", 174).
83Hymns built according to the formal model of the Akathist to the Mother
of God began to appear in Greek hymnography at the end of the Byzantine era,
approximately seven or eight centuries after the appearance of their model. In
Greek usage, they are called ikos, reserving the name Ύ μνος Ακάθιστος for a
sample, and in Russian - akathists; what the Greeks call "Ikos on Jesus
Christ" is called "Akathist to Jesus Christ" by Russians. The
composition of new "akathists" in a Russian provincial monastery at
the end of the 19th century is the theme of Chekhov's story "Holy
Night".
84As is known, even the texts of the earliest litanies
("Loretan", "To All Saints") were repeatedly processed over
the centuries.
85An example is the sonnet of the German poet of the 17th century. Andreas
Gryphius "An die Sternen", in which the stars are successively called
"fires", "lamps", "diamonds",
"flowers", "guardians", "witnesses",
"heralds".
86In a poem by another German poet of the same era, K. Hoffmann von
Hoffmannswaldau, the very first two lines ask the question: “what is the
world?” There follows a long series of answers, each of which takes up a line:
this is a meager and short flicker, fleeting lightning, a motley field of
friction, a beautiful-looking hospital, a house of slave labor, a tomb covered
with alabaster, etc.
87Brockelmann. Op. cit., 579b.
88A monument to this popularity is the poem about the phoenix, which came
down under the name Lactantia (Russian translation by
Yu. F. Schulz, see: Monuments of Late Antique Poetry, pp. 184–188).
89Ephrem 1961, h. 9.
90The Old Testament text says that God creates by his servants -
"flaming fire" (ps. 103/104, 4). There are stories of angels rising
in a column of sacrificial smoke, as in the episode of the sacrifice of
Samson's future parents (Judges 13:20-21 ); angels are mentioned in the form of fiery wheels -
ofanim (Ezekiel 1, 10). Christian hymnography and hagiography constantly speaks
of the "firelikeness" of the angelic nature. Pseudo- Dionysius the Areopagite notes the affinity of
angels with the fire of lightning and with the purifying fire of sacrifice (De
coel. hier. VII, 1).
91A typical example is Exodus 28:29-30, cf. Buber 1964, pp. 1095-1109.
92Apart from the Semitic languages, Greek, Latin, and the whole family of
Romance languages, this is the case in the Slavic languages; the exception is
the Germanic languages, where the semantics of "spirit" is
etymologically connected with the semantics of ecstatic horror.
93Buber. Op. cit., S. 1097–1104.
94Brockelmann. Op. cit., 718ab; Lisowsky 1958, S. 1321–1323.
95Down to modern Hebrew; see: Shapiro 1963, p. 567. On the contrary, the
Greek πνεΰμα in the modern language has completely lost the semantics of
"wind"; see: Horikov, Malev 1980, p. 634–635.
96Brockelmann. Op. cit., 722b.
97Wed psalm 80/81, 11.
98Hymn, de Fide Χ , 1 ("Corpus Scriptorum Christianorum
Orientalium", 154. Louvain, 1955).
99Same place, 22.
100Wed above note. 82; and also, our comments in the book: Myths of the
peoples of the world, vol. I. M., 1980, p. 76–77.
101For this material, see: Barnard. Op. cit., p. 194–223.
102This deviation characterizes, as is known, the Antiochian school, which
was, as it were, a connecting link between Syriac and Greek-speaking theology.
103Compare: Averintsev 1977a, p. 173–174.
104The words of the interlocutor of the child Simeon, the future stylite,
from the life of this saint, see: Life of Simeon, p. 25.
105Lisowsky. Op. cit., S. 893.
106VII Nemean ode, fifth epod, trans. M. L. Gasparova, see: Pindar.
Bacchilid 1980, p. 143.
107The luxury of pattern and depth of the heart: the poetry of Grigor
Narekatsi // Literary Armenia, 1986, No. 1, p. 49–60; Grigor Narekatsi. Book of
Sorrows. M., 1988, p. 11–26 (Monuments of the written language of the East.
LXXVII).
108Chet Menaion for 21 months of Mekehi (cf. also the Life of Gregory of
Narekatsi, p. 321).
109Per. L. A. Khanlaryan, to whom the author expresses his most heartfelt
gratitude for her comprehensive and generous assistance.