Markish, Perets |
Markish, Perets
(1895–1952), Yiddish poet, prose writer, playwright, and essayist. Perets Markish was
born to impoverished parents in Polonnoye, a town in Volhynia. He received a heder
education and left home at a young age, working at various incidental jobs,
including as a choirboy for a cantor. During World War I he was drafted into
the Russian army. After his discharge from the military during the March
Revolution of 1917, he settled in Ekaterinoslav. Markish began writing Russian poetry in his youth but made
his debut in 1917 with poems in Yiddish, which were infused with the
declarative pathos and the apocalyptic mood that would remain characteristic of
his writing through the 1920s. In 1918, he relocated to Kiev
and took part in the Eygns anthologies (1918–1920), which heralded
renewed Yiddish literary creativity in Ukraine
after World War I. Four collections of his poetry appeared in Ekaterinoslav and
Kiev in 1919. The most extensive among them, Shveln (Thresholds), was
acclaimed by critics alongside Dovid Hofshteyn’s
Bay vegn (At the Roads) and Leyb Kvitko’s
Trit (Steps). Other collections quickly followed, including a
wide-ranging book of verse, Stam (Just So; 1921–1922); the long poems Nokhn
telerl fun himl (After a Saucer in the Sky; 1919) and Volin (1921);
a volume of poetry and poetic prose, Inmitn veg (Midway; 1919); a
collection of essays, Farbaygeyendik (In Passing; 1921); and a volume of
children’s poems, Shtiferish (Pranks; 1919).
The wide scope of Markish’s early
literary output drew mixed reviews from Yiddish critics. Yekhezkl Dobrushin considered him a “strong poet” who placed individuality at
the center of the poetic world; Dobrushin was thus prepared to overlook
the untamed, chaotic nature of Markish’s work. Dovid Bergelson,
however, expressed reservations about Markish’s poetry; in a key article from
1919, “Dikhtung un gezelshaftlekhkayt” (Poetry and Social Life), which deals
with the problems of contemporary Yiddish literature, Bergelson points to the “naked lines” in Markish’s poetry,
which, according to Bergelson, are characteristic of futurism.
As was the case with many Yiddish
writers, Markish left Kiev. Convoluted wanderings brought him to Warsaw
in 1921, and he remained there until his return to the Soviet Union in 1926.
However, during those years he also spent periods of time in Berlin, Paris, and
London, and visited Palestine. The first decade of his artistic career was the
most dynamic in terms of his literary, ideological, and personal quests and
accomplishments.
In Warsaw, Markish allied himself
with poets Uri Tsevi Grinberg and Melech Ravitch,
who in the early 1920s transformed the city into the center of Yiddish
modernism in Eastern Europe. Their frenetic literary activity included
publishing projects, written and verbal polemics, and literary events in Warsaw
and other Polish locales where they came into close contact with a wide public
and created an audience for modernist poetry.
Markish’s poetry, as one of the most
characteristic incarnations of Yiddish expressionism, evoked strong opposition
from Hillel Zeitlin and other writers. Ravitch countered their criticism with a
brochure titled Pro Perets Markish (1922). This polemic illustrates the
provocative impulse that was then so characteristic of Yiddish modernism in
general, and of Markish in particular.
Markish’s most important poetic
achievement at that point was his long poem Di kupe (The Heap; 1921
[Warsaw], 1922 [Kiev]). Its horrifying opening image is a pile of corpses laid
out in the middle of the marketplace of a shtetl
in Ukraine after a pogrom.
The poet gives voice both to the unburied and to himself in a series of poetic
monologues whose intent is to shock with their blasphemy while expressing the
desire to freeze time in an apocalyptic desecration of God and death. The
sharply expressionistic language and extensive use of Slavicisms create an
ostensibly low stylistic register. At the same time, the poem features such
classic stanza forms as the sonnet, a form well represented in Markish’s work
in his later years. The assonant rhymes, which Markish introduced in Di kupe
and in his other works from that period, became one of the hallmarks of his
poetics.
In 1924, Markish was a cofounder of
the weekly journal Literarishe bleter in Warsaw. In the first year of its publication, Markish
became one of its regular contributors, and submitted literary portraits and
feature articles about cultural and literary questions. His sonnet series Fun
der heym (From Home) and Zkeynes (Old Women), both from 1925–1926,
reveal his deepened and enriched lyricism.
In 1926, Markish settled in the
Soviet Union, a move that had a fateful effect on his life and work. This
decision closed the modernist period of his writing, although the Soviet
editions of his books included some of his earlier writing in reworked and
censored versions. Initially he clashed sharply with the leading figures of
Soviet Yiddish cultural life, and suffered attacks by the so-called Proletarian
writers. This, however, did not hinder his enormous literary
productiveness, which came to clear expression in 1929, when Markish revealed
his broad literary range—lyric and epic poetry as well as prose—through the
publication of three books: a selection of his existing poetry under the title Farklepte
tsiferblatn; the first volume of his novel, Dor oys dor ayn
(Generation Goes, Generation Comes); and his ambitious epic poem Brider
(Brothers). These last two works are set largely during the period of the
Russian Revolution, the civil war, and the pogroms in Ukraine. They attempt to
weave together several parallel plot lines, with each one taking place over a
very wide geographic area. Soviet critics expressed reservations about the
structural weakness of these works, but above all they criticized Markish’s
too-vivid highlighting of the Jewish national ethos. The second volume of the
novel Dor oys dor ayn (1941) adhered much more strictly to the
guidelines of Communist dogma.
Poem by Perets Markish, “Tsum hafn:
'Ruh,'” (To the Harbor: "Rest") n.d. "Day after day, the
wandering ship caravans. . . ." Yiddish. Permission courtesy of David
Markish. RG 108, Manuscripts Collection, F46.14. (YIVO. Published with
permission.)
The 1930s saw the establishment of
Markish’s status as one of the most important Soviet Yiddish writers; he was,
for example, the only Yiddish writer to receive the Order of Lenin (1939). In
the poem that opens the first volume of his Gezamlte verk (Collected
Works; 1933), the poet situates himself on the border between eras, with his
mission being to serve simultaneously as “a stretcher and a cradle”—that is, to
seal the past and herald a new epoch. His works on the past that appeared
during the 1930s were largely reprints of his early output (for instance, his
poem Volin). In long poems he addressed contemporary Soviet subject
matter, and these reflect a declarative optimism that often veers into the
realm of shallow propaganda. His novel Eyns af eyns (One by One; 1934)
is a characteristic example of the contemporary literary party line: at the
center stands a Jewish worker who returns to the Soviet Union from the United
States in order to build socialism. The propagandistic bent of this subject is
self-evident. The basis for the novel was the screenplay that Markish had
written for one of the few Soviet Yiddish films, Nosn Beker fort aheym
(The Return of Nosn Beker; 1932), with Solomon Mikhoels in one of the leading roles.
From 1939 to 1943, Markish headed
the Yiddish section of the Soviet Writers Union, and he joined the Communist
Party in 1942. He was a member of the executive board of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee and of the editorial board of its journal, Eynikayt. Along with Ilya Ehrenburg
and Yitskhok Nusinov, he thought the committee should be active in Jewish
affairs within the Soviet Union and should not limit itself to the propaganda
abroad that was demanded of it by the Soviet leadership.
As with other Soviet Yiddish
writers, the beginning of World War II triggered a significant change in
Markish’s work. In 1940 he wrote a long poem Tsu a yidishe tentserin (To
a Jewish Female Dancer), which dramatically interweaves themes that are far
removed from each other: on the one hand, the difficult fate of Jewish refugees
in the Soviet Union, portrayed as one link in the chain of the collective
Jewish historical experience; on the other, the figure of the dancer, with her
sensual, erotic power. At the time, the poem could not be published in the
Soviet Union, but with the outbreak of the German–Soviet war, opportunities
arose to express Jewish national feelings that were merged with Soviet
patriotism.
Markish strove to combine these
sentiments in two ambitious works in the 1940s: his epic poem Milkhome
(War) that appeared in 1948 just before the liquidation of Jewish culture in
the Soviet Union, and his novel Trot fun doyres (The March of the
Generations), rescued by his family at the time of his arrest and only
published in 1966. Both works connect the motifs of Jewish and Soviet might
with Jewish martyrology during the Holocaust.
Some parts of these works take place in the Soviet Union, on the front lines
and amid the wanderings of Jewish refugees, while others portray the
annihilation of the Jews at the hands of the Nazis. The resistance and uprising
in the Warsaw ghetto figure at the center of Trot fun doyres. Large
sections of Milkhome bear the stamp of Soviet poetic style.
During this period, Markish also
wrote dramas—most of them about Soviet Jewish life—that were performed in the
Yiddish theaters in the USSR. His last play, Der ufshtand fun geto (The
Ghetto Uprising), about resistance in the Vilna
ghetto, shares some topics with Milkhome. After the death of Mikhoels in
January 1948, which the Soviet authorities officially presented as a “car
accident,” Markish wrote a long poem, Sh. Mikhoels—a ner-tomid bam orn
(An Eternal Light at Sh. Mikhoels’ Coffin), where he depicts Mikhoels’s death
as a murder.
Markish was arrested in January 1949
as part of the liquidation campaign undertaken against the Jewish Anti-Fascist
Committee and against the remnants of official Jewish cultural activity in the
Soviet Union. After an extended period of suffering in prison, an orchestrated
trial sentenced Markish to death along with most of the accused. The verdict
was carried out in secret on 12 August 1952 in Moscow
— — —
Two of his poems
Hey, what do you deal in – sorrow?
What are you selling there – despair?
I’m a buyer and a dealer,
and I’m dealing and I’m wheeling
days and nights, and even moments:
on a scale of joy I weigh them,
buy them up and then resell them,
half are black
and half in blazes,
at fairs, in markets, and on highways
who should happen in my pathway,
in whoever’s path I happen
I count Mammon!…
What are you selling there – despair?
I’m a buyer and a dealer,
and I’m dealing and I’m wheeling
days and nights, and even moments:
on a scale of joy I weigh them,
buy them up and then resell them,
half are black
and half in blazes,
at fairs, in markets, and on highways
who should happen in my pathway,
in whoever’s path I happen
I count Mammon!…
I’m a buyer and a dealer
and I’m dealing and I’m wheeling…
and I’m dealing and I’m wheeling…
What are you selling – corpses?
Rags?
Or long-since-departed dads?
Hey, a buyer’s slipped a way,
he’s dying but will be reborn.
Or long-since-departed dads?
Hey, a buyer’s slipped a way,
he’s dying but will be reborn.
– 1917
— — —
With lips pressed one to the other,
and eyes,
laden to their brows, silent,
and wooden bellies bound round
by rusty
iron belts,
gray rows of shops drag
across the Saturday-market gray,
like blind men, tightly clinging one to the other…
and eyes,
laden to their brows, silent,
and wooden bellies bound round
by rusty
iron belts,
gray rows of shops drag
across the Saturday-market gray,
like blind men, tightly clinging one to the other…
In the middle of the market
stands an overloaded wagon,
under the wagon a tall Gentile is stretched out
like a slaughtered corpse, snoring, ruminating, he gnashes and spits.
The horses chew, heads turned toward the wagon,
tails left dangling into infinity…
stands an overloaded wagon,
under the wagon a tall Gentile is stretched out
like a slaughtered corpse, snoring, ruminating, he gnashes and spits.
The horses chew, heads turned toward the wagon,
tails left dangling into infinity…
– 1919
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