This is the fourth book of poems by Alexei Ulyukaev, but not just another one. Rather, it is an early release, and even conditionally early: written while in confinement, published immediately upon release from the colony after serving six years,...
two-thirds of the sentence. Ulyukaev does not 'structure' the book; he preserves the chronology of his captivity. From poem to poem, from year to year, he traverses a bitter and complex path, at the end of which remains the conviction that in life, 'only love and freedom' are truly valuable. This is far from a mere prison chronicle. The poet looks 'beyond the bunks,' and his poems contain many deep reflections on the soul, on creativity, on the nature of good and evil. Pushkin, Dante, Tyutchev, Mandelstam can well be considered his cellmates – he addresses them so often. Long before the release of this book, Alexei Ulyukaev said: 'I like this definition: blues is when a good person feels bad. And poetry is when a good person feels very bad.' Perhaps this is one of the main conditions for preserving one's identity in any circumstances, especially in those that do not foster it: to see oneself as a good person. Thus, a good book arises – like this one.
This is the fourth book of poems by Alexei Ulyukaev, but not just another one. Rather, it is an early release, and even conditionally early: written while in confinement, published immediately upon release from the colony after serving six years, two-thirds of the sentence. Ulyukaev does not 'structure' the book; he preserves the chronology of his captivity. From poem to poem, from year to year, he traverses a bitter and complex path, at the end of which remains the conviction that in life, 'only love and freedom' are truly valuable. This is far from a mere prison chronicle. The poet looks 'beyond the bunks,' and his poems contain many deep reflections on the soul, on creativity, on the nature of good and evil. Pushkin, Dante, Tyutchev, Mandelstam can well be considered his cellmates – he addresses them so often. Long before the release of this book, Alexei Ulyukaev said: 'I like this definition: blues is when a good person feels bad. And poetry is when a good person feels very bad.' Perhaps this is one of the main conditions for preserving one's identity in any circumstances, especially in those that do not foster it: to see oneself as a good person. Thus, a good book arises – like this one.
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