Furthermore, Akhmatova several times attempted to write a ballet libretto that utilizes the "plot situation" of Poem Without a Hero Part One. Ellis Lak collects these in a section called
From the Ballet “The Fortieth Year.” Akhmatova also wrote various short prose "notes" or "commentaries" about
Poem Without a Hero (PWH), that she called
Prose about the Poema: Pro Domo Mea. Because these materials to my knowledge have never been translated in English in their entirety, I set out to translate them as well.
My entrenchment in Akhmatova's world of words became deeper.
Translations in English by others offer explanatory notes, some brief, some more exhaustive. As I moved forward, I realized that Akhmatova's intertextuality shapes readers' responses such that they depend not only knowing about the sources of allusions or references but knowing them. This puts non-Russian readers at considerable disadvantage, because so many of them are to poems by Russian poets not widely known in the West.
For me, a note to an allusion that simply identifies a poet, his or her dates and the name of a poem does not do much to provide a reader the allusive resonance that Akhmatova builds into
Poem Without a Hero. Quite the contrary, such notes tend to mute or even silence those resonances.
What started as an opera collaboration eight years later led to an intense encounter between a poet-translator and various projects related the
Poem Without A Hero (PWH).
But this is not yet the end of Don Mager's story with Akhmatova. My attraction to her and this particular poema undoubtedly has been triggered and nurtured by identity themes of my own perhaps more probing and complex than even I fully understand. My life in the existential and political world of the twentieth century overlaps hers by twenty-five years.
Thus, even though her career began in a time, the 1910s, that seems remote to us now, her great poema speaks to and of the world in which I was born and in which I came to adult consciousness. Because
Poem Without a Hero tells of a night in 1941 that recalls a night in 1913, through it, and the range of references and intertexts it carries with it, as I read and work on Akhmatova's great poema, I have a sense of holding in my imagination the whole of the twentieth century--her half and my half.. As she stood "atop" the fortieth year (1940) to look back on what she called "the real twentieth century," through her poema I have the sensation that I stand "atop" the beginning of the twenty-first century and view the quickly receding century of my birth.
Because "words are what we live," my entrenchment in Akhmatova's worlds of words turned out to take another unforeseen turn.
In July 2002 I began to explore some of the sensations and ideas described in the previous paragraph in the form of odes in what eventuated as a three-year long conversation with Akhmatova. This project was completed in September 2005 as
Akhmatova Odes: 150 Sprung Sonnets and 50 Haiku Strings for Four Voices by Don Mager. I view this book as my most important acheivement as a poet, but despair that it will ever find a publisher. Bringing the manuscript to a close does not imply the conversation has ended.
This manuscript of the book has not found a publisher; however, a section of this website describes it in more depth. The entire book can be accessed at as
Akhmatova Odes: 150 Sprung Sonnets and 50 Haiku Strings for Four Voices by Don Mager.The decision to create, publish and maintain this website is another chapter, but probably not the final one, in my story with Akhmatova.
I also have in progress several scholarly essays on aspects of my work on
Poem Without a Hero.