Untold Will / Невысказанное завещание (на английском языке)
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His father, first was sitting near the furnace was astonished by us, then rose and started to prepare the tea near the bunks. He found and spread a homespun tablecloth, grabbed three cups, either glued, or with a broken handle from the furnace ledge, a short knife, some bread wrapped in a cloth, and milk in the wooden ladle. The he sat again on the chump near the furnace. Badretdin took out three handfuls of sugar lumps and put it in the middle of the table-cloth.
A short time later from behind the curtain we heard: «It is ready, my son!». Badretdin entered behind the curtain and brought out a samovar.[15] Its nose and handle were also patched with tin.
Badretdin told us to get on the bunks and sit there. We sat up, on our bent legs. Then a pan on a tripod was put in front of us with scrambled eggs. We didn’t start eating as we were waiting for the owners. But the grandfather didn`t move from his place, and the father didn’t rise from his chump. In this moment Badretdin said softly, into the curtain:
– «Mummy, come yourself and make us tea, please.»
– «And your daddy?» – answered his mother slowly from behind the curtain.
– «Daddy? – No, make it yourself, please,» Badretdin said, as if begging for it with clear sincerity.
Everything went still behind the curtain. Then a woman appeared in a hemp dress and apron, in socks and shoes, bending her head and covering her face with the end of her shawl, and sat behind the samovar.
When I raised my head to look at her, my heart sank. To tell the truth, I speak frankly when I say that, a feeling of disgust froze me: the face and eyes of the poor woman were ugly because of the merciless smallpox that she must have suffered. Looking at her, it was hard to find words, and my tongue refused to budge. Yet, I have to describe in full what I saw: her left hand was shriveled, but her right eye grew large, and through this eye without eyelashes and eyebrows, through the veil of age, all her inner soul was reflected. One can say that this eye that never closed and was full of sadness, was the mirror of her soul!
Seeing her and trying to cope with the mixed feeling of disgust and compassion, the first thought that occurred to my mind was: How did Badretdin dare to invite his wretched mother and show her to us?.. As a rule – we try to hide ugly or disabled relatives with frightening appearances. Even our mother, if she looked like this, I would not dare to invite to appear her, I would be embarrassed and uncomfortable, ashamed. Doesn’t Badretdin see this complicated situation, doesn’t he understand it? Or does he see and understand, but doesn’t show it?
The old lady meanwhile made tea and poured it into the cups, gave it to us, hiding her face behind the samovar. We didn`t raise our heads as we started to drink the tea without saying a word. Badretdin interjected:
– Come on, group mates, have some food with your tea, only with food! – he said, with neither the embarrassment, nor the shame that I expected to be heard in his voice!
We had a bite of scrambled eggs, had two cups of tea, and turned the cups with bottoms up.[16] Probably, because of the meager treat, Badretdin took a deep breath, trying not to show it. Then he abruptly rose to his feet:
– «If you like, I can show my books to you,» – he said and brought to us a pile of books from a small shelf above the window. Starting to look through the books we were glad that we can get busy with something. There were two or three novels, four or five poetic compilations, shabby books from old literature like «Büz eget»,[17] «Tutiy-name»,[18] «Layla ve Majnun»,[19] «Kaharman katyil»[20], and several textbooks in Arabic and Farsi. Mainly to spend time, we looked through the books and talked about who had read which one, and if it was interesting or not.
– «I have something else to show to you, my group mates,» – Badretdin said, and rising again to his feet, took a small violin from the shelf. It was a primitive instrument, made by hands and not lacquered.
We asked in surprise:
– «Where did you get it from?»
– «I made it on my own,» – Badretdin said and started to tune the violin strings that made dull sounds. We knew that he was playing kubyz,[21] that he was strumming the mandolin. But the violin!..
– «Ay, Badri, why did you keep it a secret?» – We asked. – «We could have taken the violin from Sadri and let you play!»
– «When you are close to a master, be still!» – Badretdin said, smiling with shyness.
He was tuning the instrument that he had not held for months with some difficulty and for quite long a while. At that moment I looked at his mother: she was looking at her shakird son with such deep love that it penetrated into our hearts; she was enchanted with happiness and gladness, melted in such awe that even my heart and body trembled. Do you understand? Can you imagine it? – As if from the gaze of that large eye she was proud not only of one person, she was astonished about one miracle that belonged to all living creatures and was immensely happy about it, and her pride knew no bounds. All feelings were shining on her face: she was the mother of this child! She breathed him! She is the mother of this bright young man! The mother of a shakird, the mother of a future scholar… Involuntarily my heart started to sob; I quickly bent my head down.
Badretdin, after many efforts, tuned the violin, put it on his shoulder, and started to play with the fiddlestick resembling a bowstring. The sound of the violin was very weak and thin, like of a chicken, but in those minutes it was very soothing and desirable for us. All of us were listening to the play of Badretdin in complete silence. As if an eternal melody was floating in the atmosphere of that poor house. What was the snow-white grandpa thinking sitting still; what was the father feeling, he didn’t move. It was not possible to know it. But in this melody, looking through a mist shining like a full moon, was the face of Badretdin`s mother, in her silent joy. What destiny bound all those people, what mysteries they had?
Having played one or two melodies, Badretdin, in the end, asked his mother:
– «Mommy, what shall I play for you?»
His mother flushed for one moment like a child; at the same moment glowed with joy even more, but didn’t reply.
– «Mommy, you liked this melody, didn`t you?» – Badretdin said and started to play «Salkyn chishme.»[22] His words and his simple, natural, warm and close manner broke my last doubts to pieces. Badretdin wasn`t embarrassed for his mother at all!.. What embarrassment?! He didn`t see anyone, except his mother, whose pock marks, crookedness, bulging eye caused our squeamishness at first, before he was playing his violin. In his slightly sad, thoughtful eyes was reflected hidden compassion; his serious and warm gaze contained not only absolute feeling of love for his mother, but also understanding, appreciation, and consolation. I don`t know, if a soul can look like this, or what deep waters of love run in them! Can it exist only between an ugly mother and a beautiful child, or can it exist between a beautiful mother and an ugly child as well? The latter can be found everywhere, but I have neither heard, nor seen the former.
It was time for us to leave. When Badretdin finished playing, we asked permission to pray from the owners. The father rubbed his patched knees, and Badretdin reached for his grandpa and said:
– «Grandpa, the shakirds are asking for our blessing.»
The grandpa nodded his head and we raised our hands for a prayer.
…The ash grey mare harnessed and we left the «yard» covered with field grass without fence or gate along the even street. Badretdin and his father saw us off, and were standing by the poles. No, not only this: the poorest house at the very back of the village, with its deep secret – unhappiness, tragedy, or as we understood it with helpless grand hope and happiness – stayed with them.
The sun was setting. And the larks, as if they didn`t get enough of the daytime, went even higher and were singing and singing even more piercing, more rageful songs. The world is big, big, eleleleleuu! The ground and the sky are calm, light, melodious… I feel very sad!.. I couldn`t do anything with myself: the mother, sitting behind the samovar and looking at her son comes to my mind, and I start to sob inside… I wish I could shout to somebody, shaking my fist: she is not ugly, she is very beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, Badretdin`s mother!
1964
Anthony J. Elia, the J.S. Bridwell Foundation Endowed Librarian and Director of Bridwell Library, has been on the faculty of Perkins School of Theology at Southern Methodist University since 2018. His areas of research include theology and cybersecurity, the history of epic and contemporary literatures, and Islamic-Christian encounters in Central Asia, especially related to Turkic-speaking cultures and societies. He is also a composer of classical and contemporary music with broad representative themes, including his 2013 ballet for full orchestra Damascus at Night, which depicts the tragedies of the Syrian conflict, and the 2019 Mongolian language chamber piece Praise of Mahakala for tenor ensemble. He currently researches the role and influence of 20th century Tatar literature
Tatar literature in translation: a preface
The great tragedy of Tatar literature is that it is not more widely translated, distributed, or known. Its grand history, depth, and breadth demonstrate a superb richness that comes from any great culture, yet by the numbers Tatar literature is sorely underrepresented on the global literary stage. With a worldwide population including those in the Tatar diaspora exceeding six million, one would assume that the extraordinary treasures of its cultures would be more widely represented and known.
Perhaps this shall now change, even if slowly. Upon taking up an interest in this discipline, specifically in Tatar literature and its role in local, national, regional, and global history, I have been profoundly taken by the extent of the cultural treasure that has remained untapped by both the European and American academies. It is actually quite astonishing that with such a deep well of magnificent literary texts that the publishing communities in the United States and elsewhere have not picked up on these materials for translation. That said, whatever the many reasons are for this shortcoming in translational history, there are now more scholars working to change this direction. Indeed, my own entrance into the world of Tatar literature came through both study of Turkic sister languages and Russian. If we were to look at the historical studies and translations of Tatar literature itself, a sizeable number of these works themselves are in Russian. In fact, one could look at a whole list today and find most volumes will have titles such as Tatarskaia literature i vostochnaia klassika: voprosy vzaimosviazei i poetiki (1991), Portrety i problemy: izbrannye stat’i raznykh let (1985), and Zolotaia epokha tatarskogo renessansa: monografiia (2004). We cannot deny the important undertakings of those scholars, who have labored with great dedication over the decades, and who brought their work into the wider Russian-speaking world and audiences. Yet, perhaps there is some irony in the work of one writer in particular: Amirkhan Eniki (1909–2001).
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Примечания
1
shakirds (шәкерт) [ʃæˈkert] a student at a madrasah-level Muslim school who studies the basics of Islam, Arabic script, religious scholastic disciplines, and calligraphy. The curriculum may include foreign languages, arithmetic, geography, history, etc.
2
madrasah (мәдрәсә) [məˈdrasə] a college for Islamic instruction.
3
verst (верста) [versˈta] a Russian measure of length, equal to 1.06 km.
4
Илдә чыпчык үлми Ildә chypchyk үlmi
5
Ayat al-Kursi is the 255th verse of Surat al-Baqara, the 2nd sura in the Quran. This verse is about the Prophet Muhammad. Because it is the master of the verses in the sense of the largest verse is called Ayat al-Kursi. It was said that reading it in the evening when going to bed and in the morning would have many benefits. Meaning: «Allah! There is no God but He – The Living, The Self-subsisting, Eternal. No slumber can seize Him Nor Sleep. His are all things In the heavens and on earth. Who is there can intercede In His presence except As he permitteth? He knoweth What (appeareth to His creatures As) Before or After or Behind them. Nor shall they compass Aught of His knowledge Except as He willeth. His throne doth extend Over the heavens And on earth, and He feeleth No fatigue in guarding And preserving them, For He is the Most High. The Supreme (in glory).»
6
The October Revolution, officially known in Soviet historiography as the Great October Socialist Revolution, and commonly referred to as the October Uprising, the October Coup, the Bolshevik Revolution, the Bolshevik Coup or the Red October, was a revolution in Russia led by the Bolshevik Party of Vladimir Lenin that was instrumental in the larger Russian Revolution of 1917–23. It took place through an armed insurrection in Petrograd on 7 November (25 October, old style) 1917.
7
Sagit Ramiev (Сәгыйть Рәмиев) Säğit Rämiev, (12 February 1880 – 16 March 1926), a Tatar poet, educated in the Tatar Husainia Madrasah and in a Russian school in Orenburg. From 1902 to 1906 he worked as a teacher, and then he moved to Kazan, where he began to work in the newspaper «Tan Yoldyzy». Since 1922 he lived in Ufa.Ramiev was also involved in translations – he translated into the Tatar language a number of works by L. N. Tolstoy, N. A. Nekrasov, D. Bedniy, as well as the lyrics of Marseillaise.
8
Gabdulla Tukay (Габдулла Тукай) Ğabdulla Tuqay (26 April 1886 – 15 April 1913), a great national Tatar poet and is referred as the founder of the National Poetry and its classical style. He became considered as the national poet in his lifetime yet.
9
yummy
10
kumgan (кумган) [kumˈğan] is a narrow-necked jug, a water jug with a spout, a handle and a lid, used mainly for washing and washing hands, based on the tradition of sending natural needs in the Islamic East. Kumgans were made of clay or metal (brass, silver).
11
sake (сәке) [sæˈke] bunks, plank-bed, a typical furnishing of a Tatar village house. A bunk of thick planks, half meter up the floor, was used as a bed at night and as a table in the daytime
12
In the folklore heritage of the Turkic peoples there is an image of an eternally living old sage – Khizir Ilyas. In numerous legends, fairy tales, rites of the Turkic-speaking peoples, Khizir Ilyas appears as an eternal traveler, an old wanderer, gifting and punishing. There is a legend that every person sees Khizir Ilyas three times in his life, but does not recognize him. He is either disguised as a beggar or disguised as a wanderer. If you recognize him and ask for happiness, he will make you happy for life, but rarely does anyone succeed. In the traditions of the Tatar people the archetypal image of the Old Sage is realized through the concept of father.
13
tubetey (түбәтәй) [tjubəˈtæɪ] a male headdress of Tatar people, decorated with national Tatar ornaments and embroidered with gold or silver threads.
14
God bless them!
15
samovar (самавыр) [səməˈvar] an urn with a spigot at its base used by Tatars to boil water for tea. Since the heated water is typically used to make tea, many samovars have a ring-shaped attachment around the chimney to hold and heat a teapot filled with tea concentrate. Though traditionally heated with coal or charcoal, many newer samovars use electricity to heat water in a manner similar to an electric water boiler.
16
A Tatar tradition to turn the cups with their bottoms up when a guest doesn’t want to have any more tea.
17
«Buz eget»(Noble Dzhigit) (Бүз егет) Poetic popular romance dastan of Tatar folk art. The widespread distribution of the legend was facilitated by the repeated appeal of Tatar writers Bahawi, Kurmashi to it.
18
«Tutiy-name» (The Parrot’s Book) (Тутыйнамә) a collection of short stories of didactic, humorous and erotic content, compiled around 1330 by the Indo-Persian writer Nakhshabi, which was popular for several centuries in India and Central Asia.
19
«Layla and Majnun» (Ләйлә белән Мәҗнүн) is a narrative poem composed in 584/1188 by the Persian poet Niẓāmi Ganjavi based on a semi-historical Arab story about the 7th century Nejdi Bedouin poet Qays ibn Al-Mulawwah and his ladylove Layla bint Mahdi
20
«Kaharman Katil» (The Story of Kaharman) (Каһарман катил) a Tatar dastan with its genetic roots goes back to the Persian source «Kaharmanname» known from ancient times. It is known that the ancient Persian monument «Kaharmanname» dates back to the 11th – 13th centuries and arose under the influence of a very ancient Persian epic.
21
Kyl kubyz (кул кубыз) is an old Turkic stringed instrument, which was popular among the Bashkir people in old times. The instrument was made from a single piece of wood. An oblong-bucket-shaped case made from a whole diced piece of birch is connected to a bar with a curly head with pegs.
22
«Salkyn chishme» (Cold Brook) [salˈkɪn tʃɪʃˈmæ] a Tatar folk song:
Зәңгәр айлы кичтә ташка басымСалкын чишмәләрдән су алдым.Тау астында салкын чишмәЧылтыр-чылтыр агадыр,Иҗтиһат кыйл, эшкә башла,Гомер узып барадыр.Салкын чишмәләрдән су алгандаШушы җырларымны җырладым,Zәңgәr ayly kichtә tashka basymSalkyn chishmәlәrdәn su aldymTau astynda salkyn chishmәChyltyrchyltyr agadyrIҗtiһat kyyl eshkә bashlaGomer uzyp baradyrSalkyn chishmәlәrdәn su algandaShushy җyrlarymny