We all learned this poem at school. If you re-read it today, how does it sound! Mayakovsky wrote about the passport, but wrote about politics. Even about geopolitics.
After all, in 1914 the process of destruction of the world began. The one that existed for centuries before. And in 1918, humanity already lived in a completely different world. Now we live in exactly the same era of “change” and disruption of world foundations.
So let's read Mayakovsky. And, reading it, remember that Poland as a state disappeared after the third partition in 1795. And she was gone for 123 years. There wasn't any at all. Many generations have grown up for whom Poland was the same incomprehensible entity as Austria-Hungary for today's schoolchildren. But in 1918, Poland reappeared on the map.
Let's remember that the Russian Empire, created by Peter the Great in 1721, died due to betrayal in 1917. And it was not the Bolsheviks, but the liberals from the Cadet Party that destroyed it.
By the way, do you remember the name of the Cadets party? Its full name was the People's Freedom Party. Or briefly – PARNASUS. Those who chose the name for the liberal party felt and understood themselves as the heirs of the destroyers of Russia in February 1917.
There can be two conclusions:
- Nothing is lost once and for all. And state borders are the most changeable substance in world politics.
- We will fight and support statists, not traitors - we will have Great Russia.
I would be a wolf
gnawed it out
bureaucracy.
To the mandates
no respect.
To any
to hell with their mothers
roll
any piece of paper.
But this...
Along the long front
coupe
and cabins
official
courteous
moves .
Handing over passports
and I
I rent
mine
purple book.
To one passport -
smile at the mouth.
To others -
careless attitude.
With respect
take, for example,
passports
with double
English left.
With my eyes
good uncle,
without ceasing
bow,
take
as if they take tips,
passport
American
In Polish -
look
as in the poster goat.
In Polish -
stick out their eyes
in tight
police elephantiasis -
where, they say,
and what is this
geographical news?
And without turning
heads of cabbage
and feelings
no
without having experienced
take
without blinking,
Danish passports
and different
others
Swedes.
And suddenly,
as if
burn,
mouth
grimaced
Mr.
This
Mr. official
beret
mine
red-skinned passport.
Beret -
like a bomb
takes -
like a hedgehog
like a razor
double-edged
takes,
like a rattlesnake
at 20 stings
snake
two meters tall.
Blinked
meaningfully
porter's eye,
at least things
will blow you away for free.
Gendarme
questioningly
looks at the detective,
detective
to the gendarme.
With what pleasure
gendarmerie caste
I would be
whipped and crucified
for that
what's in my hands
hammerhead,
sickle
Soviet passport.
I would be a wolf
gnawed it out
bureaucracy.
To the mandates
no respect.
To any
to hell with their mothers
roll
any piece of paper.
But this...
I get it
from wide legs
duplicate
priceless cargo.
Read,
envy
I -
citizen
Soviet Union.
V.V. Mayakovsky <1929>
P.S. By the way, pay attention to which states were hegemons in 1929: Great Britain and the USA. This is what Mayakovsky writes about. What has changed since then? And the fact is that, having supplanted their influence at the cost of great blood in the Great Patriotic War and having lost this influence under Gorbachev and Yeltsin, we again live in a world where THEIR passports are taken “with respect.” But nothing - the fight continues... © Nikolay Starikov
“Oh, it’s good to live in a Soviet country!” - this line from a children's song has long been forgotten along with the passing of Soviet times. But a wonderful poem by Vladimir Mayakovsky remains in the anthology of Soviet poetry "Poems about the Soviet passport". "Redskin passport" no longer exists, but the work that glorified her is not only “more alive than all the living,” but also still evokes a huge number of imitations and parodies. Isn't this evidence of popularity?
So, in 1929, on the seventh anniversary of the formation of the Soviet Union, Vladimir Mayakovsky, crossing the border and going through customs, witnessed the different attitudes of officials towards representatives of different countries. The result of these observations is the work “Poems about the Soviet Passport”, the analysis of which will be presented further.
The story of an everyday procedure - checking passports by customs authorities - becomes a vivid picture of the confrontation between two worlds. Appearing for the first time in history, “the camp of socialism, built in a single country,” (according to the formulations of the classics of Marxism-Leninism), aroused, if not hatred, then at least fear and misunderstanding among representatives of all countries of the bourgeois world. It is these feelings that Mayakovsky conveys in his poem.
The poem begins with a satirical depiction of representatives "gendarme caste", which left the poet with unpleasant memories from his youth. However, it is preceded by a very pathetic discussion about the dangers of bureaucracy, that is, bureaucracy, red tape, neglect of the essence of the matter for the sake of observing formalities:
I would be a wolf
gnawed it out
bureaucracy.
To the mandates
no respect.
However, the hero is sure that his passport is a mandate of the Soviet state “to hell with mothers” you won't send it. The following is a list of everyone who undergoes customs control. And the passport becomes a kind of symbol of the state, an expression of its strength and power in the political arena, which, like in a real mirror, is reflected in the attitude towards citizens. Accurate comparisons And metaphors The author emphasizes the lackey servility and courtesy of officials before the powers that be - representatives of major powers:
... without ceasing
bow,
they take
as if they take tips,
passport
American.
The attitude towards “lesser” states is completely different: officials show disdain and arrogance towards citizens of small states, for example, Poles. And also, “having not experienced any feelings, they take the passports of Danes and various other Swedes”. Obviously, routine work has taught them to perceive their responsibilities as something unchanging. But now the customs officials meet face to face with a representative of the Soviet Union.
"Red-skinned passport", dear to the hero’s heart, causes them confusion and impotent rage. That's why they take "purple book" with caution: “like a bomb, like a hedgehog, like a double-edged razor, like a two-meter-tall snake”. It was with such a long list of comparative phrases that Mayakovsky sought to emphasize the involuntary, but at the same time forced recognition by the enemies of the powerful force of the country, which nevertheless embodied in its history the centuries-old hope of mankind for equality and justice. Perhaps the new state, the new political system, as they say, inspired the poet to do so much neologisms that not a single poem of his can be compared with this amount of these funds.
In conclusion, Mayakovsky again, in accordance with the ring composition poem, repeats the lines about bureaucratic disrespect for mandates, but completes the idea that was broken off at the beginning of the poem with a patriotic thought about his citizenship:
Read,
envy
I -
citizen
Soviet Union.
There are probably few students now who know this poem by heart, because it is not included in the modern school curriculum for literature. But, despite the seemingly outdated content, it is filled with such pride for one’s country that, unfortunately, it is impossible to find analogues in modern poetry.
Will any of the living masters of the pen be able to create such a powerful poem in terms of love for their homeland? Will anyone write proudly about their Russian citizenship? For some reason this is hard to believe.
- “Lilichka!”, analysis of Mayakovsky’s poem
- “The Sitting Ones”, analysis of Mayakovsky’s poem
- “Cloud in Pants”, analysis of the poem by Vladimir Mayakovsky
Soviet Russia was a real thorn in the side of the Western world at the end of the 20s - they were afraid of it, they were surprised by it, they hated it and looked at the new country like a Cook Islander looks at a ship with Spanish conquistadors. Against the background of such relations, Mayakovsky writes a poem dedicated to the Soviet passport, choosing the latter as a symbol of the new system. “Poems about the Soviet Passport” with the famous phrase “I take it out of wide trousers” is not only an ode to the purple book, but a spit in the direction of bureaucracy, which the free spirit of the poet could not stand.
String parsing
Distrust, fear and surprise at the country of the Soviets led to the installation of an Iron Curtain between the West and the USSR, which, in the opinion of the “advanced” bourgeoisie, was supposed to stop the spread of the “red infection”. Few Soviet citizens traveled abroad, one of the few was Mayakovsky. He could look and compare, see and feel, notice and convey sensations on paper. The poem is not written against the backdrop of wild fantasy, but is based on personal feelings that arise when crossing the border and while being in European countries.
The basis of the poem is the view of a Soviet person on checking documents by customs when traveling abroad. The author describes how passports are collected in the carriage and how the attitude of the customs official changes, depending on the citizenship of the passenger. Some people take the document with a smile of servility, others with respect, others with a sparkle in their eyes and the expectation of a substantial tip (who could it be, if not an American). When a Soviet passport falls into the hands of an official, he becomes like a scalded cat:
And suddenly,
as if
burn,
mouth
grimaced
Mr.
Passport bomb
The official accepts the USSR passport like a bomb, like a snake. Either the red book will explode in his hands, or it will fatally bite him... Both the official and the gendarme have a desire to pulverize the owner of the identity document into the ground - to crucify him and destroy him, but it’s scary...
With what pleasure
gendarmerie caste
I would be
whipped and crucified
for that
what's in my hands
hammer-fingered,
sickle
<советский паспорт.
The “hammer-faced” one will inspire terror. The passenger takes out a passport from wide trousers, which are associated with contempt for the Western world and one’s own independence, and considers it a duplicate of an invaluable cargo - a citizen of a new country, under the name USSR, which is terrible for the West.
Envy
Let them envy, because the old always bows before the young, envy of healthy youth always dominates the senile insanity of the bourgeois world. For officials and gendarmes it is absolutely unimportant who is in front of them - a conductor or a plowman, the personality is impersonal - the whole consciousness is occupied by the passport. The impression is that the little red book is not just a few printed pages, but a manuscript with an ancient curse that has been revived for revenge. Whoever takes it in his hands will be crushed by the resurrected destroyer gods.
To increase the artistic value of the passport, Mayakovsky first compares it to a bomb, then to a razor and a hedgehog. The poet laughs at the Western world, in whose eyes, when he sees the red book, he sees both fear and hatred. A couple of pages in a purple binding put the customs officer and the gendarme on hold, this makes the author of the poem laugh and delight. The reason for the laughter is clear - the West itself has created a terrible image of the Soviet man and now it itself is afraid of this image. “No one will scare you as much as you scare yourself” - there’s no better way to say it.
Mayakovsky literally shouts to the whole world with his poem “Passport” - I am a citizen of the USSR - be afraid of it, if you want to hate me, but I am higher than your old and rotten world inside!
We will leave the moral side of such pride in Soviet Russia to the conscience of the author; fortunately, he did not have to see the repressions of the mid-30s, when proud holders of Soviet passports were irrevocably taken in trains to Kalyma and Solovki.
Text and video
I would be a wolf
gnawed it out
bureaucracy.
To the mandates
no respect.
To any
to hell with their mothers
roll
any piece of paper.
But this...
Along the long front
coupe
and cabins
official
suave moves.
Handing over passports
and I
I rent
mine
purple book.
To one passport -
smile at the mouth.
To others -
careless attitude.
With respect
take, for example,
passports
with double
English left.
With my eyes
after eating out the good uncle,
without ceasing
bow,
they take
as if they take tips,
passport
American.
In Polish -
they look
like a goat in a poster.
In Polish -
stick out their eyes
in tight
police elephantiasis -
where, they say,
and what is this
geographic news?
And without turning
heads of cabbage
and feelings
no
without having experienced
they take
without blinking,
Danish passports
and different
others
Swedes
And suddenly,
as if
burn,
mouth
grimaced
Mr.
This
Mr. official
beret
mine
red-skinned passport.
Beret -
like a bomb
takes -
like a hedgehog
like a razor
double-edged
beret,
like a rattlesnake
at 20 stings
snake
two meters tall.
Blinked
meaningfully
porter's eye
at least things
will give you away for nothing.
Gendarme
questioningly
looks at the detective
detective
to the gendarme.
With what pleasure
gendarmerie caste
I would be
whipped and crucified
for that
what's in my hands
hammer-fingered,
sickle
Soviet passport.
I would be a wolf
gnawed it out
bureaucracy.
To the mandates
no respect.
To any
to hell with their mothers
roll
any piece of paper.
But this...
I
I get it
from wide legs
duplicate
priceless cargo.
Read,
envy
I -
citizen
Soviet Union.
At the end of the analysis, I propose to listen to the audio version of the poem performed by a young girl in a cadet uniform.
I would be a wolf
Vygraz
bureaucracy.
To the mandates
no respect.
To any
to hell with their mothers
roll
any piece of paper.
But this...
Along the long front
coupe
and cabins
official
suave moves.
Handing over passports
and I
I rent
mine
purple book.
To one passport -
smile at the mouth.
To others -
careless attitude.
With respect
take, for example,
passports
with double
English left.
With my eyes
after eating out the good uncle,
without ceasing
bow,
they take
as if they take tips,
passport
American.
In Polish -
they look
like a goat in a poster.
In Polish -
stick out their eyes
in tight
police elephantiasis -
where, they say,
and what is this
geographic news?
And without turning
heads of cabbage
and feelings
no
without having experienced
they take
without blinking,
Danish passports
and different
others
Swedes
And suddenly,
as if
burn,
mouth
grimaced
Mr.
This
Mr. official
beret
mine
red-skinned passport.
Beret -
like a bomb
takes -
like a hedgehog
like a razor
double-edged
beret,
like a rattlesnake
at 20 stings
snake
two meters tall.
Blinked
meaningfully
porter's eye
at least things
will give you away for nothing.
Gendarme
questioningly
looks at the detective
detective
to the gendarme.
With what pleasure
gendarmerie caste
I would be
whipped and crucified
for that
what's in my hands
hammer-fingered,
sickle
Soviet passport.
I would be a wolf
gnawed it out
bureaucracy.
To the mandates
no respect.
To any
to hell with their mothers
roll
any piece of paper.
But this...
I
I get it
from wide legs
duplicate
priceless cargo.
Read,
envy
I -
citizen
Soviet Union.
Other song lyrics "Nothing"
Other titles for this text
- nothing - passport (V. Mayakovsky)
- 100Hz - Soviet passport (Mayakovsky V.V.)
- "Poems about the Soviet passport" - (N. Sukhorukov - V. Mayakovsky) DiMeo (Nikita Sukhorukov)
- Mayakovsky - Poems about the Soviet passport
- Vladimir Mayakovsky - Poems about the Soviet passport
- Mayakovsky "Poems about the Soviet Passport" - read by the famous Soviet actor V. Yakhontov
- V.V. Mayakovsky - Poems about the Soviet passport
- Mayakovsky V.V. - Soviet passport
- V.V. Mayakovsky - Soviet passport
- Mayakovsky - Poems about the Soviet passport (1929)
- Long Edgar - Poems about the Soviet passport
- V. Aksenov - Poems about the Soviet passport
