The countdown continues. EIGHT.
The process:
What happens when a writer’s just about to publish her first novel, this novel is set up in Soviet Union, and she loves watching Graham Norton’s shows on YouTube?
She ends up dreaming of Vladimir Mayakovsky, a Russian and Soviet poet, who wrote about the greatness of the revolution and the Soviet Union, looking in her dream very much like Jamie Oliver, sitting on the red sofa, two pretty young women at each side eagerly listening to him reciting a poem of how his goal is to be himself and serve his country. And this writer woke up realizing that the poem in her dream was in Russian. So she started searching her memories and Internet for this poem. To no avail. Should she start writing some herself?
Quote:
I think the following quote from Chapter 4 somehow contributed for my dream to appear.
***
Fedea looked at me. “Yes. Do you remember, I told you about the mark of two I almost got for Russian Literature, and how learning by heart three additional poems by Pushkin and six by Mayakovsky saved me from it?”
***
Note to the quote above: I still remember some parts of Eugene Onegin, by Alexander Pushkin, we learned by heart at school. Girls learned parts by Tatiana, and boys had to learn what Eugene was supposed to say. I forgot all Mayakovsky I knew. I did have challenges remembering his poems, because for me they didn’t have particular rhythm or rhyme, although the textbooks claimed something different. But I do remember that I liked one or two of his poems, and that he even had some very lyrical pieces too. This was quite a discovery at that time for me, because he was mainly known for his revolution-colored verses.
Picture:
My father loved reading. He made many notes with quotes he wanted to remember. And he had his birth date set up to the birth date of his favourite writer. You will find more on this in the novel. 🙂 Or maybe also in one of the future posts. This photograph confirms my father’s love for books from his early age. On the picture he is the boy with the book in his hands.
