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Redemption and Two Other Plays by Leo Tolstoy et al

L >> Leo Tolstoy et al >> Redemption and Two Other Plays




TANYA (shyly). You have been a second father to me, and I will open my
heart before you as before God.

THEODORE IVANITCH. Don't beat about the bush, but come straight to the
point.

TANYA. The point is ... well, the point is, that Simon wants to marry
me.

THEODORE IVANITCH. Is that it? I thought I noticed....

TANYA. Well, why should I hide it? I am an orphan, and you know
yourself how matters are in these town establishments. Every one comes
bothering; there's that Gregory Mihaylitch, for instance, he gives me
no peace. And also that other one ... you know. They think I have no
soul, and am only here for their amusement.

THEODORE IVANITCH. Good girl, that's right! Well, what then?

TANYA. Well, Simon wrote to his father; and he, his father, sees me
to-day, and says: "He's spoilt"--he means his son. Theodore Ivanitch
(bows), take the place of a father to me, speak to the old man,--to
Simon's father! I could take them into the kitchen, and you might come
in and speak to the old man!

THEODORE IVANITCH (smiling). Then I am to turn match-maker--am I?
Well, I can do that.

TANYA. Theodore Ivanitch, dearest, be a father to me, and I'll pray
for you all my life long.

THEODORE IVANITCH. All right, all right, I'll come later on. Haven't I
promised?

[Takes up newspaper.

TANYA. You are a second father to me!

THEODORE IVANITCH. All right, all right.

TANYA. Then I'll rely on you.

[Exit.

THEODORE IVANITCH (alone, shaking his head). A good affectionate girl.
To think that so many like her perish! Get but once into trouble and
she'll go from hand to hand until she sinks into the mire, and can
never be found again! There was that dear little Nataly. She, too, was
a good girl, reared and cared for by a mother. (Takes up paper.) Well,
let's see what tricks Ferdinand is up to in Bulgaria.

CURTAIN




ACT II

Evening of the same day. The scene represents the interior of the
servants' kitchen. The PEASANTS have taken off their outer garments
and sit drinking tea at the table, and perspiring. THEODORE IVANITCH
is smoking a cigar at the other side of the stage. The discharged COOK
is lying on the brick oven, and is unseen during the early part of the
scene.

THEODORE IVANITCH. My advice is, don't hinder him! If it's his wish
and hers, in Heaven's name, let him do it. She is a good, honest girl.
Never mind her being a bit dressy; she can't help that, living in
town: she is a good girl all the same.

SECOND PEASANT. Well, of course, if it is his wish, let him! He'll
have to live with her, not me. But she's certainly uncommon spruce.
How's one to take her into one's hut? Why, she'll not let her
mother-in-law so much as pat her on the head.

THEODORE IVANITCH. That does not depend on the spruceness, but on
character. If her nature is good, she's sure to be docile and
respectful.

SECOND PEASANT. Ah, well, we'll have her if the lad's bent on having
her. After all, it's a bad job to live with one as one don't care for.
I'll consult my missus, and then may Heaven bless them!

THEODORE IVANITCH. Then let's shake hands on it!

SECOND PEASANT. Well, it seems it will have to come off.

FIRST PEASANT. Eh, Zachary! fortune's a-smiling on you! You've come to
accomplish a piece of business, and just see what a duchess of a
daughter-in-law you've obtained. All that's left to be done is to have
a drink on it, and then it will be all in order.

THEODORE IVANITCH. That's not at all necessary.

[An awkward silence.

THEODORE IVANITCH. I know something of your way of life, too, you
know. I am even thinking of purchasing a bit of land, building a
cottage, and working on the land myself somewhere; maybe in your
neighborhood.

SECOND PEASANT. A very good thing, too.

FIRST PEASANT. That's just it. When one has got the money one can get
all kinds of pleasure in the country.

THIRD PEASANT. Say no more about it! Country life let's say, is freer
in every way, not like the town!

THEODORE IVANITCH. There now, would you let me join your Commune if I
settled among you?

SECOND PEASANT. Why not? If you stand drink for the Elders, they'll
accept you soon enough!

FIRST PEASANT. And if you open a public-house, for example, or an inn,
why, you'd have such a life you'd never need to die! You might live
like a king, and no mistake.

THEODORE IVANITCH. Well, we'll see. I should certainly like to have a
few quiet years in my old age. Though my life here is good enough, and
I should be sorry to leave. Leonid Fyodoritch is an exceedingly
kind-hearted man.

FIRST PEASANT. That's just it. But how about our business? Is it
possible that he is going to leave it without any termination?

THEODORE IVANITCH. He'd do it willingly.

SECOND PEASANT. It seems he's afraid of his wife.

THEODORE IVANITCH. It's not that he's afraid, but they don't hit
things off together.

THIRD PEASANT. But you should try, father! How are we to live else?
We've so little land....

THEODORE IVANITCH. We'll see what comes of Tanya's attempt. She's
taken the business into her hands now!

THIRD PEASANT (takes a sip of tea). Father, be merciful. We've so
little land. A hen, let's say, we've no room for a hen, let alone the
cattle.

THEODORE IVANITCH. If the business depended on me.... (To SECOND
PEASANT.) Well, friend, so we've done our bit of match-making! It's
agreed then about Tanya?

SECOND PEASANT. I've given my word, and I'll not go back on it without
a good reason. If only our business succeeds!

[Enter SERVANTS' COOK, who looks up at the oven, makes a sign,
and then begins to speak animatedly to THEODORE IVANITCH.

SERVANTS' COOK. Just now Simon was called upstairs from the front
kitchen! The master and that other bald-headed one who calls up
spirits with him, ordered him to sit down and take the place of
Kaptchitch!

THEODORE IVANITCH. You don't say so!

SERVANTS' COOK. Yes, Jacob told Tanya.

THEODORE IVANITCH. Extraordinary!

[Enter COACHMAN.

THEODORE IVANITCH. What do you want?

COACHMAN (to THEODORE IVANITCH). You may just tell them I never agreed
to live with a lot of dogs! Let any one who likes do it, but I will
never agree to live among dogs!

THEODORE IVANITCH. What dogs?

COACHMAN. Three dogs have been sent into our room by Vasily
Leoniditch! They've messed it all over. They're whining, and if one
comes near them they bite--the devils! They'd tear you to pieces if
you didn't mind. I've a good mind to take a club and smash their legs
for them!

THEODORE IVANITCH. But when did they come?

COACHMAN. Why, to-day, from the Dog Show; the devil knows what kind
they are, but they're an expensive sort. Are we or the dogs to live in
the coachmen's quarters? You just go and ask!

THEODORE IVANITCH. Yes, that will never do. I'll go and ask about it.

COACHMAN. They'd better be brought here to Loukerya.

SERVANTS' COOK (angrily). People have to eat here, and you'd like to
lock dogs in here! As it is....

COACHMAN. And I've got the liveries, and the sledge-covers and the
harness there, and they expect things kept clean! Perhaps the porter's
lodge might do.

THEODORE IVANITCH. I must ask Vasily Leoniditch.

COACHMAN (angrily). He'd better hang the brutes round his neck and lug
them about with him! But no fear: he'd rather ride on horseback
himself. It's he as spoilt. Beauty without rhyme or reason. That was a
horse!... Oh, dear! what a life!

[Exit, slamming door.

THEODORE IVANITCH. That's not right! Certainly not right! (To
PEASANTS.) Well, then, it's time we were saying good-bye, friends.

PEASANTS. Good-bye!

[Exit THEODORE IVANITCH.

[As soon as he is gone a sound of groaning is heard from the top
of the oven.

SECOND PEASANT. He's sleek, that one; looks like a general.

SERVANTS' COOK. Rather! Why he has a room all to himself; he gets his
washing, his tea and sugar, and food from the master's table.

DISCHARGED COOK (on the oven). Why shouldn't the old beggar live well?
He's lined his pockets all right!

SECOND PEASANT. Who's that up there, on the oven?

SERVANTS' COOK. Oh, it's only a man.

[Silence.

FIRST PEASANT. Well, and you, too, as I noticed a while since when you
were supping, have capital food to eat.

SERVANTS' COOK. We can't complain. She's not mean about the food. We
have wheat bread every Sunday, and fish when a holiday happens to be a
fast-day, too, and those who like may eat meat.

SECOND PEASANT. And does any one tuck into flesh on fast-days?

SERVANTS' COOK. Oh, they nearly all do! Only the old coachman--not the
one who was here just now but the old one--and Simon, and I and the
housekeeper, fast--all the others eat meat.

SECOND PEASANT. And the master himself?

SERVANTS' COOK. Catch him! Why, I bet he's forgotten there is such a
thing as fasting!

THIRD PEASANT. Oh, Lord!

FIRST PEASANT. That's the gentlefolks' way: they have got it all out
of their books. 'Cos of their intelex!

THIRD PEASANT. Shouldn't wonder if they feed on wheat bread every day!

SERVANTS' COOK. Wheat bread, indeed! Much they think of wheat bread!
You should see what food they eat. No end of different things!

FIRST PEASANT. In course gentlefolks' food is of an airial kind.

SERVANTS' COOK. Airial, of course, but all the same they're good at
stuffing themselves, they are!

FIRST PEASANT. Have healthy appekites, so to say.

SERVANTS' COOK. 'Cos they always rinse it down! All with sweet wines,
and spirits, and fizzy liquors. They have a different one to suit
every kind of food. They eat and rinse it down, and eat and rinse it
down, they do.

FIRST PEASANT. And so the food's floated down in proportion, so to
say.

SERVANTS' COOK. Ah, yes, they are good at stuffing! It's awful! You
see, it's not just sitting down, eating, then saying grace and going
away--they're always at it!

SECOND PEASANT. Like pigs with their feet in the trough!

[Peasants laugh.

SERVANTS' COOK. As soon as, by God's grace, they have opened their
eyes, the samovar is brought in--tea, coffee, chocolate. Hardly is the
second samovar emptied, a third has to be set. Then lunch, then
dinner, then again coffee. They've hardly left off, then comes tea,
and all sorts of tit-bits and sweetmeats--there's never an end to it!
They even lie in bed and eat!

THIRD PEASANT. There now; that's good.

[Laughs.

FIRST AND SECOND PEASANTS. What are you about?

THIRD PEASANT. If I could only live a single day like that!

SECOND PEASANT. But when do they do their work?

SERVANTS' COOK. Work indeed! What is their work? Cards and piano--
that's all their work. The young lady used to sit down to the piano as
soon as she opened her eyes, and off she'd go! And that other one who
lives here, the teacher, stands and waits. "When will the piano be
free?" When one has finished, off rattles the other, and sometimes
they'd put two pianos near one another and four of 'em would bust out
at once. Bust out in such a manner, you could hear 'em down here!

THIRD PEASANT. Oh, Lord!

SERVANTS' COOK. Well, and that's all the work they do! Piano or cards!
As soon as they have met together--cards, wine, smoking, and so on,
all night long. And as soon as they are up: eating again!

[Enter SIMON.

SIMON. Hope you're enjoying your tea!

FIRST PEASANT. Come and join us.

SIMON. (comes up to the table). Thank you kindly.

[First PEASANT pours out a cup of tea for him.

SECOND PEASANT. Where have you been?

SIMON. Upstairs.

SECOND PEASANT. Well, and what was being done there?

SIMON. Why, I couldn't make it out at all! I don't know how to explain
it.

SECOND PEASANT. But what was it?

SIMON. I can't explain it. They have been trying some kind of strength
in me. I can't make it out. Tanya says, "Do it, and we'll get the land
for our peasants; he'll sell it them."

SECOND PEASANT. But how is she going to manage it?

SIMON. I can't make it out, and she won't say. She says, "Do as I tell
you," and that's all.

SECOND PEASANT. But what is it you have to do?

SIMON. Nothing just now. They made me sit down, put out the lights and
told me to sleep. And Tanya had hidden herself there. They didn't see
her, but I did.

SECOND PEASANT. Why? What for?

SIMON. The Lord only knows--I can't make it out.

FIRST PEASANT. Naturally, it is for the distraction of time.

SECOND PEASANT. Well, it's clear you and I can make nothing of it. You
had better tell me whether you have taken all your wages yet.

SIMON. No, I've not drawn any. I have twenty-eight roubles to the
good, I think.

SECOND PEASANT. That's all right! Well, if God grants that we get the
land, I'll take you home, Simon.

SIMON. With all my heart!

SECOND PEASANT. You've got spoilt, I should say. You'll not want to
plough?

SIMON. Plough? Only give me the chance! Plough or mow,--I'm game.
Those are things one doesn't forget.

FIRST PEASANT. But it don't seem very desirous after town life, for
example? Eh!

SIMON. It's good enough for me. One can live in the country, too.

FIRST PEASANT. And Daddy Mitry here is already on the look-out for
your place; he's hankering after a life of luckshury!

SIMON. Eh, Daddy Mitry, you'd soon get sick of it. It seems easy
enough when one looks at it, but there's a lot of running about that
takes it out of one.

SERVANTS' COOK. You should see one of their balls, Daddy Mitry, then
you would be surprised!

THIRD PEASANT. Why, do they eat all the time?

SERVANTS' COOK. My eye! You should have seen what we had here awhile
ago. Theodore Ivanitch took me upstairs and I peeped in. The ladies--
awful! Dressed up! Dressed up, bless my heart, and all bare down to
here, and their arms bare.

THIRD PEASANT. Oh, Lord!

SECOND PEASANT. Faugh! How beastly!

FIRST PEASANT. I take it the climate allows of that sort of thing!

SERVANTS' COOK. Well, daddy, so I peeped in. Dear me, what it was
like! All of 'em in their natural skins! Would you believe it: old
women--our mistress, only think, she's a grandmother, and even she'd
gone and bared her shoulders.

THIRD PEASANT. Oh, Lord!

SERVANTS' COOK. And what next? The music strikes up, and each man of
'em went up to his own, catches hold of her, and off they go twirling
round and round!

SECOND PEASANT. The old women, too?

SERVANTS' COOK. Yes, the old ones, too.

SIMON. No, the old ones sit still.

SERVANTS' COOK. Get along,--I've seen it myself!

SIMON. No, they don't.

DISCHARGED COOK (in a hoarse voice, looking down from the oven).
That's the Polka-Mazurka. You fools don't understand what dancing is.
The way they dance....

SERVANTS' COOK. Shut up, you dancer! And keep quiet--there's some one
coming.

[Enter GREGORY; old COOK hides hurriedly.

GREGORY (to SERVANTS' COOK). Bring some sour cabbage.

SERVANTS' COOK. I am only just up from the cellar, and now I must go
down again! Who is it for?

GREGORY. For the young ladies. Be quick, and send it up with Simon. I
can't wait!

SERVANTS' COOK. There now, they tuck into sweetmeats till they are
full up, and then they crave for sour cabbage!

FIRST PEASANT. That's to make a clearance.

SERVANTS' COOK. Of course, and as soon as there is room inside, they
begin again!

[Takes basin, and exit.

GREGORY (at PEASANTS). Look at them, how they've established
themselves down here! Mind, if the mistress finds it out she'll give
it you hot, like she did this morning!

[Exit, laughing.

FIRST PEASANT. That's just it, she did raise a storm that time--awful!

SECOND PEASANT. That time it looked as if the master was going to step
in, but seeing that the missus was about to blow the very roof off the
house, he slams the door. Have your own way, thinks he.

THIRD PEASANT (waving his arm). It's the same everywhere. My old
woman, let's say, she kicks up such a rumpus sometimes--it's just
awful! Then I just get out of the hut. Let her go to Jericho! She'll
give you one with the poker if you don't mind. Oh, Lord!

[JACOB enters hurriedly with a prescription.

JACOB. Here, Simon, you run to the chemist's and get these powders for
the mistress!

SIMON. But master told me not to go out.

JACOB. You've plenty of time; your business won't begin till after
their tea. Hope you are enjoying your tea!

FIRST PEASANT. Thanks, come and join us.

[Exit SIMON.

JACOB. I haven't time. However, I'll just have one cup for company's
sake.

FIRST PEASANT. And we've just been having a conversation as to how
your mistress carried on so haughty this morning.

JACOB. Oh, she's a reg'lar fury! So hot-tempered, that she gets quite
beside herself. Sometimes she even bursts out crying.

FIRST PEASANT. Now, there's a thing I wanted to ask you about. What,
for example, be these mikerots she was illuding to erewhile? "They've
infested the house with mikerots, with mikerots," she says. What is
one to make of these same mikerots?

JACOB. Mikerogues, you mean! Well, it seems there is such a kind of
bugs; all illnesses come from them, they say. So she says there are
some of 'em on you. After you were gone, they washed and washed and
sprinkled the place where you had stood. There's a kind of physic as
kills these same bugs, they say. Second Peasant. Then where have we
got these bugs on us?

JACOB (drinking his tea). Why, they say they're so small that one
can't see 'em even through a glass.

SECOND PEASANT. Then how does she know I've got 'em on me? Perhaps
there's more of that muck on her than on me!

JACOB. There now, you go and ask her!

SECOND PEASANT. I believe it's humbug.

JACOB. Of course it's bosh. The doctors must invent something, or else
what are they paid for? There's one comes to us every day. Comes,--
talks a bit,--and pockets ten roubles!

SECOND PEASANT. Nonsense!

JACOB. Why, there's one as takes a hundred!

FIRST PEASANT. A hundred? Humbug!

JACOB. A hundred. Humbug, you say? Why, if he has to go out of town,
he'll not do it for less than a thousand! "Give a thousand," he says,
"or else you may kick the bucket for what I care!"

THIRD PEASANT. Oh, Lord!

SECOND PEASANT. Then does he know some charm?

JACOB. I suppose he must. I served at a General's outside Moscow once:
a cross, terrible proud old fellow he was--just awful. Well, this
General's daughter fell ill. They send for that doctor at once. "A
thousand roubles, then I'll come." Well, they agreed, and he came.
Then they did something or other he didn't like, and he bawled out at
the General and says, "Is this the way you show your respect for me?
Then I'll not attend her!" And, oh, my! The old General forgot all his
pride, and starts wheedling him in every way not to chuck up the job!

FIRST PEASANT. And he got the thousand?

JACOB. Of course!

SECOND PEASANT. That's easy got money. What wouldn't a peasant do with
such a sum!

THIRD PEASANT. And I think it's all bosh. That time my foot was
festering I had it doctored ever so long. I spent nigh on five roubles
on it,--then I gave up doctoring, and it got all right!

[DISCHARGED COOK on the oven coughs.

JACOB. Ah, the old crony is here again!

FIRST PEASANT. Who might that man be?

JACOB. He used to be our master's cook. He comes to see Loukerya.

FIRST PEASANT. Kitchen-master, as one might say. Then, does he live
here?

JACOB. No, they won't allow that. He's here one day, there another. If
he's got a copper he goes to a dosshouse; but when he has drunk all,
he comes here.

SECOND PEASANT. How did he come to this?

JACOB. Simply grew weak. And what a man he used to be--like a
gentleman! Went about with a gold watch; got forty roubles a month
wages. And now look at him! He'd have starved to death long ago if it
hadn't been for Loukerya.

[Enter SERVANTS' COOK with the sour cabbage.

JACOB (to SERVANTS' COOK). I see you've got Paul Petrovitch here
again?

SERVANTS' COOK. And where's he to go to? Is he to go and freeze?

THIRD PEASANT. What liquor does.... Liquor, let's say....

[Clicks his tongue sympathetically.

SECOND PEASANT. Of course. A firm man's firm as a rock; a weak man's
weaker than water.

DISCHARGED COOK (gets off the oven with trembling hands and legs).
Loukerya, I say, give us a drop!

SERVANTS' COOK. What are you up to? I'll give you such a drop!...

DISCHARGED COOK. Have you no conscience? I'm dying! Brothers, a
copper....

SERVANTS' COOK. Get back on the oven, I tell you!

DISCHARGED COOK. Half a glass only, cook, for Heaven's sake! I say, do
you understand? I ask you in the name of Heaven, now!

SERVANTS' COOK. Come along, here's some tea for you.

DISCHARGED COOK. Tea; what is tea? Weak, sloppy stuff. A little vodka
--just one little drop.... Loukerya!

THIRD PEASANT. Poor old soul, what agony it is!

SECOND PEASANT. You'd better give him some.

SERVANTS' COOK (gets out a bottle and fills a wine-glass). Here you
are; you'll get no more.

DISCHARGED COOK (clutches hold of it and drinks, trembling all over).
Loukerya, Cook! I am drinking, and you must understand....

SERVANTS' COOK. Now, then, stop your chatter! Get on to the oven, and
let not a breath of you be heard!

[The old COOK meekly begins to climb up, muttering something to
himself.

SECOND PEASANT. What it is, when a man gives way to his weakness!

FIRST PEASANT. That's just it--human weakness.

THIRD PEASANT. That goes without saying.

[The DISCHARGED COOK settles down, muttering all the time.

[Silence.

SECOND PEASANT. I want to ask you something: that girl of Aksinya's as
comes from our village and is living here. How is she? What is she
like? How is she living--I mean, does she live honest?

JACOB. She's a nice girl; one can say nothing but good of her.

SERVANTS' COOK. I'll tell you straight, daddy; I know this here
establishment out and out, and if you mean to have Tanya for your
son's wife--be quick about it, before she comes to grief, or else
she'll not escape!

JACOB. Yes, that's true. A while ago we had a girl here, Nataly. She
was a good girl too. And she was lost without rhyme or reason. No
better than that chap!

[Pointing to the old COOK.

SERVANTS' COOK. There's enough to dam a mill-pool, with the likes of
us, as perish! 'Cos why, every one is tempted by the easy life and the
good food. And see there,--as soon as one has tasted the good food she
goes and slips. And once she's slipped, they don't want her, but get a
fresh one in her place. So it was with dear little Nataly; she also
slipped, and they turned her out. She had a child and fell ill, and
died in the hospital last spring. And what a girl she used to be!

THIRD PEASANT. Oh, Lord! People are weak; they ought to be pitied.

DISCHARGED COOK. Those devils pity? No fear! (He hangs his legs down
from the oven.) I have stood roasting myself by the kitchen range for
thirty years, and now that I am not wanted, I may go and die like a
dog.... Pity indeed!...

FIRST PEASANT. That's just it. It's the old circumstances.

SECOND PEASANT. While they drank and they fed, you were "curly head."
When they'd finished the prog, 'twas "Get out, mangy dog!"

THIRD PEASANT. Oh Lord!

DISCHARGED COOK. Much you know. What is "Sautey a la Bongmont"? What
is "Bavassary"? Oh, the things I could make! Think of it! The Emperor
tasted my work, and now the devils want me no longer. But I am not
going to stand it!

SERVANTS' COOK. Now, then, stop that noise, mind.... Get up right into
the corner, so that no one can see you, or else Theodore Ivanitch or
some one may come in, and both you and me'll be turned out!

[Silence.

JACOB. And do you know my part of the country? I'm from Voznesensky.

SECOND PEASANT. Not know it? Why, it's no more'n ten miles from our
village; not that across the ford! Do you cultivate any land there?

JACOB. My brother does, and I send my wages. Though I live here, I am
dying for a sight of home.

FIRST PEASANT. That's just it.

SECOND PEASANT. Then Anisim is your brother?

JACOB. Own brother. He lives at the farther end of the village.

SECOND PEASANT. Of course, I know; his is the third house.

[Enter TANYA, running.

TANYA. Jacob, what are you doing, amusing yourself here? She is
calling you!

JACOB. I'm coming; but what's up?

TANYA. Frisk is barking; it's hungry. And she's scolding you. "How
cruel he is," she says. "He's no feeling," she says. "It's long past
Frisk's dinner-time, and he has not brought her food!"

[Laughs.

JACOB (rises to go). Oh, she's cross? What's going to happen now, I
wonder?

SERVANTS' COOK. Here, take the cabbage with you.

JACOB. All right, give it here.

[Takes basin, and exit.

FIRST PEASANT. Who is going to dine now?

TANYA. Why, the dog! It's her dog. (Sits down and takes up the
tea-pot.) Is there any more tea? I've brought some.

[Puts fresh tea into the tea-pot.

FIRST PEASANT. Dinner for a dog?

TANYA. Yes, of course! They prepare a special cutlet for her; it must
not be too fat. And I do the washing--the dog's washing, I mean.

THIRD PEASANT. Oh Lord!

TANYA. It's like that gentleman who had a funeral for his dog.

SECOND PEASANT. What's that?

TANYA. Why, some one told me he had a dog--I mean the gentleman had a
dog. And it died. It was winter, and he went in his sledge to bury
that dog. Well, he buried it, and on the way home he sits and cries--
the gentleman does. Well, there was such a bitter frost that the
coachman's nose keeps running, and he has to keep wiping it. Let me
fill your cup! (Fills it.) So he keeps wiping his nose, and the
gentleman sees it, and says, "What are you crying about?" And the
coachman, he says, "Why, sir, how can I help it; is there another dog
like him?"

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Turkish poet Nazim Hikmet regains citizenship
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Turkey is restoring the citizenship of its most famous 20th century poet Nazim Hikmet over 50 years after it branded him a traitor.

Hikmet, a communist who died in exile in Moscow in 1963, was imprisoned in Turkey for more than a decade. He was stripped of his Turkish nationality in 1951 because of his communist views, but despite a ban on his poetry which remained in place until 1965, has remained one of Turkey's best-loved poets. His work, much of which was written in prison, including his masterpiece Human Landscapes, has been translated into more than 50 languages.

"This is very good news," said Richard McKane, Hikmet's English translator. "The restoration of his Turkish citizenship is long overdue: the people of Turkey and his readers are owed that."

Immortalised by Pablo Neruda, with whom he shared the Soviet Union's International Peace Prize in 1950, with the lines "Thanks for what you were and for the fire / which your song left forever burning", Hikmet was also supported by Jean-Paul Sartre and Pablo Picasso. Nobel laureate Orhan Pamuk, when given the editorship for a day of Turkish newspaper Radikal two years ago, used the example of Hikmet in his cover story to criticise the lack of freedom of expression in Turkey. In 2000, 500,000 Turks petitioned the government to restore Hikmet's citizenship rights and repatriate his remains.

Deputy prime minister Cemil Cicek told the Associated Press that it was time for the government to change its mind about Hikmet. "The crimes which forced the government to strip him of his citizenship at that time are no longer considered a crime," the BBC quoted him as saying.

Hikmet, whose remains are currently in Russia, had said that he wished to be buried in Turkey in his 1953 poem Testament, translated by Ruth Christie. "Friends if it's not my lot to see the day / of independence... / if I die before that day / - and it seems I will - / bury me in a village graveyard in Anatolia / and if it's fitting / and a plane tree grows at my head, / then there's no need for a gravestone or anything else."

Cicek said that Hikmet's family would now decide whether to ship his remains back to his homeland.

Hikmet introduced free verse to Turkey in the 1930s, with his themes ranging from war to love. Despite his imprisonment he retained a deep passion for Turkey. "I love my country", he wrote in one of his poems. "I swung in its lofty trees, I lay in its prisons. Nothing relieves my depression like the songs and tobacco of my country."

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