Уильям Моррис и его истории

[lempi]

Поговорим о Моррисе, человеке, без преувеличения, выдающемся. Я редко пишу о британских писателях, но не спешите удивляться — дело в том, что он случайно попал в область моих прямых интересов.

Да, я говорю в первую очередь о его переводе Vǫlsunga saga на английский.

By long roads rides Sigurd, till he comes at the last up on to Hindfell, and wends his way south to the land of the Franks; and he sees before him on the fell a great light, as of fire burning, and flaming up even unto the heavens; and when he came thereto, lo, a shield-hung castle before him, and a banner on the topmost thereof: into the castle went Sigurd, and saw one lying there asleep, and all-armed. Therewith he takes the helm from off the head of him, and sees that it is no man, but a woman; and she was clad in a byrny as closely set on her as though it had grown to her flesh; so he rent it from the collar downwards; and then the sleeves thereof, and ever the sword bit on it as if it were cloth.

Но гораздо более интересной вещью мне представляется его самостоятельное произведение — The Story of Sigurd the Volsung and the Fall of the Niblungs. Ничтоже сумняшеся, автор взял и поженил скандинавскую и немецкую версии. Например, сон Гудрун в его исполнении выглядит так:

Then spake the daughter of Giuki: “Lo, this was the dream I dreamed:
For without by the door of the Niblungs I sat in the morn, as meseemed;
Then I saw a falcon aloft, and a glorious bird he was,
And his feathers glowed as the gold, and his eyes as the sunlit glass:
Hither and thither he flew about the kingdoms of Kings,
And fear was borne before him, and death went under his wings:
Yet I feared him not, but loved him, and mine eyes must follow his ways,
And the joy came into my heart, and hope of the happy days:
Then over the hall of the Niblungs he hung a little space
And stooped to my very knees, and cried out kind in my face;
And fain and full was my heart, and I took him to my breast,
And I cherished him soft and warm, for I deemed I had gotten the best.”

<...>

Again spake the daughter of Giuki: “Not yet hast thou hearkened all:
For meseemed my breast was reddened, as oft by the purple and pall,
But my heart was heavy within it, and I laid my hand thereon,
And the purple of blood enwrapped me, and the falcon I loved was gone.”

И это, конечно, яростный привет из рукописи С:

INDisen hohen eren     trvmte Chriemilde
wie si zvge einen valchen     starch schon vn– wilde
den ir zwene arn erchrvmmen     daz si daz mvste sehen
ir enkunde indirre werlde     leider nimmer

Den trvom si do sagete     ir voten
sine chundes niht beschaiden     baz der gvten
der valche den dv zivhest     daz ist ein edel man
in welle got behvten     dv mvst in schier vloren han (1. Av, 12-13)

В Vǫlsunga saga это звучит немного иначе:

"Þat dreymdi mik," sagði Guðrún, "at vér gengum frá skemmu margar saman ok sám einn mikinn hjört. Hann bar langt af öðrum dýrum. Hár hans var af gulli. Vér vildum allar taka dýrit, en ek ein náða. Dýrit þótti mér öllum hlutum betra. Síðan skauztu dýrit fyrir knjám mér. Var mér þat svá mikill harmr, at ek mátta trautt bera. Síðan gaftu mér einn úlfhvelp. Sá dreifði mik blóði bræðra minna." Brynhildr svarar: "Ek mun ráða sem eptir mun ganga: Til ykkar mun koma Sigurðr, sá er ek kaus mér til manns. Grímhildr gefr honum meinblandinn mjöð, er öllum oss kemr í mikit stríð. Hann muntu eiga ok hann skjótt missa. Þú munt eiga Atla konung. Missa muntu bræðra þinna, ok þá muntu Atla vega." Guðrún svarar: "Ofrharmr er oss þat at vita slíkt." Ok fara þær nú í brott ok heim til Gjúka konungs.

Сигурд, ты олень. Почему, интересно, Моррис выбрал то, то выбрал? Правда, Сигурда убивает все-таки Гутторм, объевшись белены.

В поэме четыре части, написанные довольно трудно перевариваемым языком. Но тем не менее, этого хватило, чтобы:

Amongst other work I am trying to turn one of the stories — which is really a very great story and most tragic – into a short story somewhat on the lines of Morris' romances with chunks of poetry in between. (JRRT, Letter №1)

Речь тут шла о переработке истории Куллерво, которая закончена не была. Зато The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrún, как мы знаем, вполне себе завершена.

Читая, радуйтесь связи времен, языков и истории: именно этот пестрый коврик и есть культура.

Comments

[nd-hito.livejournal.com]

Это тот самый Уильям Моррис, который обои рисовал?!

[right-to-cry.livejournal.com]

И обои тоже.