Barry Scherr

False Starts:
A Note on Brodsky's Poetics

The most salient features of poetic structure - meter, rhythm, rhyme, and stanzaic form -all create their effect through repetition and expectation, either fulfilled or frustrated.. Of course, it often requires more than a handful of lines to perceive a poem's overall patterns of rhythm and rhyme, but the initial effect sets in play a series of expectations that have a significant role in the reader's appreciation of the text. The Russian scholar, V. E. Kholshevnikov, was one of the first to systematize the effects created when those expectations are frustrated. He noted, for instance, that a poet may change the stanzaic form by altering the rhyme pattern, by varying the length of the verse line, or by changing the number of lines in the stanza.. But this is only one kind of unexpected change; others include the disappearance (or appearance) of rhyme, a change in the meter, or the placement of a syntactic break within the verse line rather than at the end (enjambement).

Kholshevnikov went on to make several important observations. First, poets have frequently tended to use such breaks as a device to mark the endings of poems. Second, this device, especially in its more salient variants, appeared much less frequently in nineteenth-century Russian poetry then in more modern verse. And third, the perception of a break depends heavily on context: when the verse system tends to be highly regulated, as it was for most poets in nineteenth-century Russia, even a relatively modest change may have a strong effect; for much twentieth-century poetry, where the forms tend to be freer, the change must be correspondingly greater in order to be perceived.

The link between rhythmic breaks and the endings of poems turns out to be a special case within a larger phenomenon, which was first described by Barbara Herrnstein Smith in her now classic study, Poetic Closure. She noted that repetition is an "anti-closural" force; thus the rhymed couplet that appears at the end of the English sonnet helps achieve a sense of closure in significant degree by its sharp distinction from the series of quatrains that precedes it. Beginning, like Kholshevnikov, with a study of stanzaic structure, she goes on to examine numerous features that help impart a sense of closure - thematic, structural, and formal. Her point is not just that poets can and do employ a wide variety of devices to create closure, but that the failure to establish that sense leaves a poem unresolved and ultimately less successful.

For all the influence of her book, and despite the almost parallel appearance of Kholshevnikov's article, studies of closure have been far less common in the Russian tradition than they have in the West. Not surprisingly, therefore, Western scholars have contributed most to the recent examination of closure in Russian poetry. Ian Lilly, in a study devoted to two-quatrain lyric verse from the Russian, German and English traditions, has analyzed the dual role of the second stanza in these short works. As in longer poems, the second quatrain needs to establish the repetition that distinguishes stanzaic verse. However, it is also the final stanza and therefore at the same time has to create a sense of closure, a task that it carries out through the methods of imbalance and contrast. In keeping with Kholshevnikov's point that the freer verse systems of modern poetry require more distinctive rhythmic breaks, my own study of endings in the poetry of Lev Loseff has shown that he often employs unusual and prominent changes at the very end of his poems. Loseff's technique serves as a particular instance of a broader phenomenon: just as theme and style help distinguish a poet, so too can the set of devices by which closure occurs serve as a signature feature of the verse.

If poetic closure has now become a well-established field of study, much less has been done with what I will call "onset," or the ways in which poems announce their presence. That the beginnings of poems remain less studied is no doubt due to the somewhat more limited scope that the opening offers; after all, if repetition and expectation are basic to verse, then they need to be established early on - the poet has less freedom to "vary," for there is not yet anything with which to establish a contrast Indeed, in most instances the onset of a poem to a significant degree helps establish the sense of patterning that makes the reader aware of repetition, be it through meter, rhyme, or stanzaic form. However, modern poetry, which often challenges established norms, may ignore this precept as well; as with closure, the result can be a particularly distinctive verse feature that helps characterize a poet's manner.

I have already examined one type of onset in a previous paper devoted to Leonid Martynov. He often subverts the expectation that the layout of a poem on the page will provide a reliable indication of the line boundaries. A handful of poets before Martynov would sometimes break up the line into segments throughout the poem; Martynov's innovation was to do so sporadically, but especially at the beginning. Thus at first glance the poem will appear to consist of lines that differ drastically in length; by not indicating the actual line length at the start, Martynov forces the reader to read further into the poem before "settling" into the poem's meter. A typically deceptive beginning occurs in the following poem

Êàêîãî öâåòà
Ðàííÿÿ âåñíà?
Åå îòâåòà
Ïóòàíîñòü ÿñíà:
Âîçüìè è âíóòðü äåðåâüåâ ïîñìîòðè -
Âñÿ çåëåíü ãäå-òî òàì, åùå âíóòðè, … .

While hardly one of Martynov's more difficult openings, the onset of this work poses some challenges for the reader. At first it looks as though the first four lines on the page are in alternating rhyme, (öâåòà/ îòâåòà, âåñíà/ ÿñíà) , but the meter seems highly unusual, with iambic dimeter lines alternating with trochaic trimeter. Only upon reading further into the poem does it become clear that the first four lines on the page in fact from just two verse lines which rhyme âåñíà/ ÿñíà. The entire poem is written in the familiar iambic pentameter, with adjacent rhyme (aabb…), but the lines are arranged on the page so as to heighten the internal rhyme.. Martynov hardly uses this device in all of his poems, but this form of onset is sufficiently frequent and sufficiently unusual so as to serve as a distinguishing feature of his poetry.

Joseph Brodsky calls attention to the beginnings of his lines as well, but instead of making them less regular than the rest of his poem, he will, on occasion, create the appearance of a regularity that soon disappears. Brodsky turned to the so-called "classical" meters (iambs, trochees, anapests, dactyls and amphibrachs) for well under half his poetry during the final decades of his career. Instead, he came to favor dolnik verse, where the number of unstressed syllables between the ictuses varies between one and two. At the same time he developed a "loose" of dolnik poetry, in which the line lengths may vary more or less freely and some of the lines may be irregular (with, for instance, zero or three syllables between an ictus). Sometime the poems are close to the usual dolnik form: just one or two lengths predominate, all or nearly all the lines exhibit one- or two-syllable intervals between stresses, and a certain rhythmic consistency will prevail throughout. In the loosest forms, the lines lengths vary widely (and seemingly freely), some percentage of the individual lines are irregular in terms of the syllables between ictuses, and there is little rhythmic unity. These types do not have easily defined borders; rather, there is a wide range between highly and far less regulated dolnik verse in Brodsky.

Strikingly, he will occasionally begin a poem that on the whole employs the loose dolnik with a line from one of the classical Russian meters. The result is a false appearance of predictability, where the tendency to assume that a poet is clearly setting out the meter at the beginning of a work turns out to be deceptive. Consider the first lines from Brodsky's "K Uranii":

Ó âñåãî åñòü ïðåäåë: â òîì ÷èñëå, ó ïå÷àëè. õõÕõõÕõõÕõõÕõ
Âçãëÿä çàñòðåâàåò â îêíå, òî÷íî ëèñò - â îãðàäå. ÕõõÕõõÕõõÕõÕõ
Ìîæíî íàëèòü âîäû. Ïîçâåíåòü êëþ÷àìè. ÕõõÕõÕõõÕõÕõ
Îäèíî÷åñòâî åñòü ÷åëîâåê â êâàäðàòå. {III, 248} õõÕõõÕõõÕõÕõ

Here as elsewhere, I use a small x for unstressed syllables and capitals for stressed; a small x in bold indicates stressing that appears to be hypermetrical, that is, stressing that is not part of the metrical structure, while a small x in italics stands for an unstressed syllable at the ictus (see the next quotation). The first line of the poem is in regular anapestic tetrameter. However, any sense that the poem falls within the classical Russian tradition disappears by the second line, which starts off as though it will be regularly dactylic, but then ends with a one-syllable interval between the final two ictuses, indicating the dolnik nature of the line. The third line has two one-stress and two two-stress intervals, while the fourth line starts off by resembling the first, but, like the second, has a one-syllable interval between stresses at the end. On the one hand, the appearance of "regular" lines from one of the classical meters in a dolnik poem is hardly unusual; indeed, many poems in dolnik verse contain quite a few lines in, especially, one of the ternary meters. What makes this poem unusual is that it has only a single line (out of 20) in one of the classical meters, and that line opens the poem.

As a rule, the absence of enjambement would not be remarkable, but Brodsky uses this device so frequently that it is unusual to see four consecutive lines ending with a period. What is more, each of the first three lines contains a significant syntactic break at about the mid-point. In the first two of these instances, the last word before the break contains phonetic echoes of the word at the end of the line (ïðåäåë / ïå÷àëè, îêíå / îãðàäå), emphasizing the division into hemistiches. The creation of relatively short syntactic units and the use of simple declarative sentences creates a sense of regularity and balance that serves to mask the switch to a less predictable rhythm after the first line..

Let us consider some other examples. A particularly notable instance of a "false start" is to be found in his "Fin de siecle":

Âåê ñêîðî êîí÷èòñÿ, íî ðàíüøå êîí÷óñü ÿ. õÕõÕõõõÕõÕõÕ
Ýòî, áîþñü, íå âîïðîñ ÷óòüÿ. ÕõõÕõõÕõÕ
Ñêîðåå - âëèÿíèå íåáûòèÿ õÕõõÕõõõõõÕ
íà áûòèå: îõîòíèêà, òàê ñêàçàòü, íà äè÷ü, - õõõÕõÕõõõõÕõÕ
áóäü òî ñåðäå÷íàÿ ìûøöà èëè êèðïè÷. ÕõõÕõõÕõõõõÕ
Ìû ñëûøèì, êàê ñâèùåò áè÷, ... {IV, 73} xXxõÕõÕ

The first line contains the same iambic hexameter which Brodsky used that year (1989) for his elegiac "Na stoletie Anny Akhmatovoi." But, as in "K Uranii," it turns out once again that the poem's first line is the only instance of a classical meter within the entire poem, which in this case contains no fewer than 145 lines. The dolnik rhythm is quickly established in lines two and three, while the first line of the second stanza resembles the first, but with an "extra" unstressed syllable between the stresses on îõîòíèêà and ñêàçàòü. In a more "traditional" dolnik poem, an occasional line written in a regular binary or ternary meter would not be unusual, but Brodsky, seeming to start with one of the most "classical" of Russian line types, then avoids any regularity for the rest of the poem. Note that once again the onset consists not just of a line written in a regular meter, but that this line too concludes with a period and contains a clear division at the mid-point. While a break after the third ictus is hardly unusual in an iambic hexameter line, the similarities in sound between the middle and the end of the line are again conspicuous (êîí÷èòñÿ / êîí÷óñü ÿ).

Similarly, "Podrazhanie Goratsiiu" starts with a single iambic tetrameter line, and "Teatral'noe" with one in iambic pentameter. Brodsky's very last poem, "Avgust," written in quatrains, opens with an unusual seven-foot trochaic line, before reverting to dolnik verse:

Ìàëåíüêèå ãîðîäà, ãäå âàì íå ñêàæóò ïðàâäó. ÕõõõõõÕõÕõÕõÕõ
Äà è çà÷åì âàì îíà, âåäü âñå ðàâíî - â÷åðà. ÕõõÕõõÕõÕõÕõÕ
Âÿçû øóðøàò çà îêíîì, ïîääàêèâàÿ ëàíäøàôòó, ÕõõÕõõÕõÕõõõõÕõ
èçâåñòíîìó òîëüêî ïîåçäó. Ãäå-òî ãóäèò ï÷åëà. õÕõõÕõÕõõÕõõÕõÕ
{IV, 204}

The first line yet again begins with a declarative statement, which consists of two equal parts (7 + 7 syllables) and displays a partial yet noticeable repetition of sounds ("r," "d," "a") between the mid-point and the end (ãîðîäà / ïðàâäó). The second line, written in dolniki, contains an even sharper demarcation at the midpoint, with the two halves of the line exhibiting approximate rhyme, and a change in the rhythm from dactylic to iambic.

Brodsky also employs more subtle forms of regularity at the onset. Consider the beginning of "Vertumn":

ß âñòðåòèë òåáÿ âïåðâûå â ÷óæèõ äëÿ òåáÿ øèðîòàõ. õÕõõÕõÕõõÕõõÕõÕõ
Íîãà òâîÿ òàì íå ñòóïàëà; íî ñëàâà òâîÿ äîñòèãëà õÕõÕõõõÕõõÕõõÕõÕõ
ìåñò, ãäå ïëîäû îáû÷íî äåëàþòñÿ èç ãëèíû. {IV, 82}ÕõõÕõÕõÕõõõõÕõ

The structure or the first line is 1-2-1-2-2-1-1, which clearly classifies it as dolnik. But if the line is divided in two, with a break after "vpervye," its two equivalent halves become evident: 1-2-1-1 / 1-2-1-1 (õÕõõÕõÕõ / õÕõõÕõÕõ). Somewhat less subtly, the same device occurs in "Pamiati Klifforda Brauna,"

Ýòî - íå ñèíèé öâåò, ýòî - õîëîäíûé öâåò. ÕõõÕõÕÕõõÕõÕ
Ýòî - öâåò Àòëàíòèêè â ñåðåäèíå ÕõÕõÕõõõõÕõ
ôåâðàëÿ. È íå âàæíî, êàê òû îäåò: õõÕõõÕõÕõõÕ
âñå ðàâíî òû ãîëîé ñïèíîé íà ëüäèíå.{IV, 131} ÕõÕõÕõõÕõÕõ

where the two halves of the first line are identical rhythmically as well as in terms of their syntax. In these instances the first line contrasts with the rest of the work less sharply than in those poems where the first line adheres to the norms of binary or ternary verse. Nonetheless, here too the first line is marked by a greater regularity than in the poem as a whole.

As Gerry Smith has shown, Brodsky highly regulates the end of his lines. The final ictus is stressed over 95% of the time (but not 100%, as has traditionally been the case in Russian verse) and the syllable preceding that ictus is virtually never stressed -- interestingly, this feature is therefore even more constant than stress on the final ictus. The second syllable from the end is heavily stressed (from about 5/8 of the time to 2/3 or so, depending on the corpus of the poetry), the third and fourth syllables from the end receive carry stress in only a very small percentage of the instances, while the fifth syllable from the end carries stress more often (about 75% of the time) than any except for the final ictus. This is a crucial feature in Smith's "backwards" analysis of the line: there is a gap of four syllables between these two most heavily stressed syllables , creating an interval that is typical of dolnik verse (with a one-syllable and a two-syllable interval on either side of an ictus). What all this means is that the lines, in aggregate, tend to have a ternary impulse over most of the line, but conclude with a definite dolnik rhythm

As an example of this organizational principle, consider the opening of the following poem:

Íàðÿäó ñ îòîïëåíèåì â êàæäîì äîìå õõÕõõÕõõÕõÕõ
ñóùåñòâóåò ñèñòåìà îòñóòñòâèÿ. Ñïðÿòàííûå â ñòåíå õõÕõõÕõõÕõõÕõõõõÕ
åå áåççâó÷íûå áàòàðåè xÕõÕõõõõÕõ
íàâîäíÿþò æèëüå íåðàçáàâëåííîé ïóñòîòîé õõÕõõÕõõÕõõõõÕ
êðóãëûé ãîä, íåçàâèñèìî îò ïîãîäû, …{IV, 122} ÕõÕõõÕõõõõÕõ

Here, after an initial line where each ictus is stressed, Brodsky concludes each of the next four lines with four unstressed syllables between two ictuses. All but the third line in this quotation begin with a clearly anapestic rhythm, but the higher degree of regularity comes at the end: in every line the fifth syllable in from the final ictus is stressed. This interval is, as mentioned above, the hallmark of dolnik verse, where the four syllables between the final ictus and the stressed fifth syllable in from that ictus would indicate the presence of an unstressed ictus along with two syllables on one side of the ictus and one syllable on the other.

Smith's data convincingly show that even Brodsky's seemingly "loose" dolnik verse is in fact quite regulated, with the variable beginning of the line yielding to a repeated pattern over the latter portions. Brodsky in general liked to call attention to his line endings; his unusual rhymes, frequent enjambement, and occasional unstressed final ictuses all challenged readers' expectations and placed a special emphasis on the words at the end of the line. The predominant rhythms found in the last parts of his lines offer further proof that he paid special attention to the latter segment of the line, and that he allowed himself greater freedom at the beginning.

That said, Brodsky's occasional but striking use of regular onsets has the paradoxical effect of further calling attention to his endings. He creates the expectation that the regularity of the opening line will be repeated subsequently. In addition, the straightforward declarative statements and the division of lines into two equal or nearly equal halves establish a sense of order and balance. He then quickly subverts the expectations that he has established. As in "K Uranii," metrical regularity goes first, followed by the internal parallelism within lines, and finally the integrity of the line itself gives way to enjambement. The result is, not atypically for modern poetry, to reinforce an aura of unpredictability. Neither the beginning of the poem nor the beginning of the line is ultimately reliable; rather, attention becomes focused on the end, where rhyme (in most poems), rhythm, and the frequent enjambement all make that portion of his lines the most interesting, and, ultimately, the most "regular." It is here, at the end, and not with his "false starts," that Brodsky finally creates an expectation that is fulfilled with the greatest frequency throughout his seemingly irregular verse.

© Barry Scherr

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