Radical Shadows

by Bradford Morrow

  I thank you in advance.

  Vaslav Nijinsky.

  —Translated from French

  by Joan Acocella

  TO ELEANORA NIJINSKY

  This is the letter that Nijinsky asked the president of the Council of the Allied Forces to forward. Nijinsky’s mother, Eleanora, was living in Russia with her daughter, Bronislava, and Bronislava’s husband, Alexander (Sasha) Kochetovsky. “Wacio” and “Bröncia” are the Polish diminutives of Nijinsky’s and his sister’s first names.

  —J.A.

  My dear Mother, I love you always. I am in perfect health. I did not have any news from you. I wrote to you but received no reply. They sent my letters back. I am happy. I am unhappy, because I cannot see you. I love you and ask you to come to me. I am renting a house where I have installed myself. I have this house for you. I love you because you brought me up. I have a daughter, and I want you to bring her up. I know you have God in you, and I want you to give Him to my daughter. My daughter is a wonderful child, because she listens to those who love her, and therefore I know that she will listen to you. God wants you to be with my daughter. I want you to be with me. I am asking you to come right away. I will send you money for your trip. I do not want politics, I am not politics. I am man of God. I like everyone. I do not want murders. I am young and strong. I work a lot. I do not have a lot of money, but I have enough to give you for your whole life. I want to see Bröncia and Sasha. They are with you. I know they love you. I know it is very difficult for them to get money. They are tired. I want to help them. I love everyone. I do not want money for myself. My wife loves you and wants you to come here. I too want you to come. Please write to me through the English authorities. My address is the English authorities. I know they will love you when they see you. I want you to go to them alone, without Sasha. They are afraid of bolsheviks, and that is why they do not want young boys. I do not know Sasha, because I have not seen him for a long time. I am young, and I do not want bolsheviks, because they kill people. I love Kerensky, because he did not want people’s death. Today I do not know him, because he does not reveal his thoughts. I reveal my thoughts because I want people to know me. I do not like partisanship. I am without a party. I know God likes people and does not want their death. The bolsheviks did not understand Tolstoy. Tolstoy is not a bolshevik. I often read Tolstoy. I can see that he loves everyone. Tolstoy loves God, not the party. I love God, and not the party. God is my party. God is with me, and I am with Him.

  I kiss you, my mother, and ask you to kiss everybody who loves me.

  Your son, Wacio.

  —Translated from Polish

  by Jaroslaw Anders

  TO SERGE DIAGHILEV

  From 1908 to 1913 Nijinsky was the lover and protégé of Serge Diaghilev, founder/director of the Ballets Russes. He was also the leading male dancer of that company until 1913, when he suddenly married and Diaghilev, in consequence, fired him. The following letter, written more than five years later, reflects Nijinsky’s continuing bitterness over their rupture. It may be the pressure of that emotion that sets off the complicated wordplay in the letter. Often, Nijinsky’s choice of words proceeds by association. When he speaks of “declining” in the grammatical sense, as one declines a noun, this makes him think of related words, such as “inclining” or “bowing down,” and he takes off in that direction. Elsewhere the association is of sound rather than sense. When he writes of Diaghilev’s organizing truppa, or troupes, this puts him in mind of trup, or corpse, so the next sentence is “I am not a corpse.” Often he will use nonsense words, sometimes chaining them off real words. (Thus muzhay, or “manhood,” in one line produces vmuzhay, an invented word, in the next line.) Conversely, invented words, such as porosh, chuy and khul, will lead him back to real words: poroshok (“powder”), cheshuya (“scaly skin”), khuy (“prick”). In such instances, one is uncertain whether to translate the word, thus tearing it out of its phonic context, or leave it in Russian, thus suppressing a meaning that it may have had for him beyond its sound. Decisions have been made case by case. Poroshok, for example, has been left in Russian, since Nijinsky seems to use it primarily for its sound value. Cheshuya, on the other hand, seems to have been chosen not just for its sound—he arrived at it from khuy to chuy to chushuya to cheshuya—but also for some lateral sense. It has therefore been translated. As for khuy, it will come as no surprise that in a letter to his former lover this word does have a meaning for him beyond its sound. In several instances he writes the word large and bold, and capitalizes it.

  —K.F.

  To Man,

  I cannot call you by name, because you cannot be called by your name. I am not writing to you quickly, because I don’t want you to think that I am nervous. I am not a nervous man. I am able to write calmly. I like writing. I do not like writing fine phrases. I never learned to write fine phrases. I want to write down thoughts. I need thought. I am not afraid of you. I know you hate me. I love you as a human being. I do not want to work with you. I want to tell you one thing. I work a lot. I am not dead. I am alive. Within me lives God. I live in God. God lives in me. I am very busy working on dances. My dances are making progress. I write well, but do not know how to write fine phrases. You like fine phrases. You organize troupes. I do not organize troupes. I am not a corpse. I am a living person. You are a dead person because your aims are dead. I have not called you friend, because I know that you are my enemy. I am not your enemy. An enemy is not God. God is not an enemy. Enemies seek death. I seek life. I have love. You have spite. I am not a predatory beast. You are a predatory beast. Predatory beasts do not like people. I like people. Dostoevsky liked people. I am not an idiot. I am a human being. I am an idiot. Dostoevsky is an idiot. You thought I was stupid. I thought you were stupid. We thought we were stupid. I don’t want to decline. I don’t like declensions. You like people bowing down to you. I like people bowing down to me. You revile those who bow down. I like those who bow down. I call for declensions. You frighten declensions. My declension is a declension. I don’t want your smile, for it smells of death. I am not death and I don’t smile. I don’t write in order to have a laugh. I write in order to weep. I am a man with feeling and reason. You are a man with intelligence and without feeling. Your feeling is evil. My feeling is good. You want to destroy me. I want to save you. I like you. You don’t like me. I wish you well. You wish me ill. I know your tricks. I pretended to be nervous. I pretended to be stupid. I was not a kid. I was God. I am God within yourself. You are a beast, but I am love. You do not love those people now. I love those people, everyone, now. Don’t think I don’t listen. I am not yours. You are not mine. I love you now. I love you always. I am yours. I am my own. You are mine. I like declining you. I like declining myself. I am yours. I am my own.

  You are mine. I am God.

  You have forgotten that God is.

  I have forgotten that God is.

  You are within me, and I am within you.

  You are mine, and I am yours.

  You are the one who wants death.

  You are the one who loves death.

  I love love love.

  I am love but you are death.

  You are afraid of death, of death

  I love, I love, I love

  You are death, but I am blood.

  Your blood is not love.

  I love you, you—

  I am not blood, but I am the spirit

  I am the blood and the spirit in you.

  I am love, I am love.

  You do not want to live with me.

  I wish you well.

  You are mine, you are mine.

  I am yours, I am yours.

  I love writing with a pen.

  I write, I write

  You do not write you tele-write

  You are a telegram, I am a letter.

  You are a machine. I am love.

  You are a woodpecker. I am a woodpecker.

  You reach manhood, I reach manhood,

  You are a
vmuzhay, I am a vmuzhay

  We are vmuzhai, you are vmuzhai

  You are a male, I am a male

  We are males, you are males

  Your muzhay is not my muzhay

  You are a vmuzhay, I am a vmuzhay.

  You are a male, I am not yours

  Yours is he, but mine is not you,

  You are yours, but I am He

  He is mine, he is not yours.

  I want to tell you that you cannot be so.

  I want to tell you that you cannot be so.

  I am yours, you are mine,

  We are we, we are not you—

  We are we, we are not you

  You are the one who calls for death

  You are the one who calls for death

  I am yours, but you are not mine

  Mine is one’s own, but one’s own is not yours

  You are a woodpecker, I am not a woodpecker,

  You knock and I knock

  Your knock is your knock, but mine is a knock

  Knock-knock, knock, in a knock there is a knock

  I am a knock, but I do not knock

  You knock, knock, knock

  I knock, knock knock

  I am knocking in your soul

  You knock in your brain.

  I love you my knock

  I am a knock, a knock, but you are not a knock,

  I want to knock within the knock

  You knock in the brain, in the brain.

  I want to knock for you, knock, knock, knock

  A knock is a cockerel

  I am a cockerel, but not a cockerel

  You are a cockerel, but not a cockerel

  I sing, sing, sing

  You sing sing, sing

  I drink drink drink

  You drink drink drink

  I am a cockerel a cockerel a cockerel

  I am a cockerel a cockerel a cockerel

  My cockerel sings sings

  Your cockerel drinks drinks

  I am a cockerel but you are not mine.

  I am a cockerel but you are not yours.

  We sing in the cockerel.

  I sing without the cockerel.

  We sing of the cockerel.

  I sing without the cockerel.

  Sing cockerel, sing cockerel.

  Your cockerel will die, will die

  I sing, I sing, I will die, I will die

  I sing, I sing, I will die, I will die

  You will die without the Cockerel

  I will die with the Cockerel

  Your cockerel is death, is death

  My cockerel is life, is life.

  I love you cockerel.

  I love you cockerel.

  You sing and I sing.

  We sing, but I am not yours

  I sing well.

  You sing badly

  I sing, sing, sing

  You sing, sing, sing

  We sing, but I am not yours

  You are not mine and I am not yours,

  You do not love me, one’s own

  I love you not one’s own.

  You are not mine and I am not yours

  We are Yours, you are not theirs

  I am Yours, but you are not mine

  Mine is Yours, mine is Yours

  Poro, poro, poro, tok

  I poro, I poro

  I poro, poro, poro

  You porosh, you porosh

  I porosh, you porosh

  I am tok but you are tok

  Tok, tok, tok, poroshok

  I am porosh but you are oshok

  I am poshok but you are dushok

  I am toshok, but you are tushok

  We in prokh are poroshok

  I am porosh, but you are oshok.

  We make a noise, we make a noise

  You are not noise, but I am noise

  I am young, but you are old.

  We are death, but I am young.

  Lolod is life, but not a sledge hammer

  I am a sledgehammer not a hammer

  You are tok and I am tok

  I am tok, tok, tok.

  Tok, tok, tok, and not tok.

  We are tok, tok, tok

  You are not tok, but I am tok

  I am tok, tok, tok

  I wish you tok, tok

  You are not tok, you are not tok

  I am tok, I am tok

  I tok every day

  You tok every day

  We tok, we tok

  You tok, I am not toch

  We are toch, but not chech

  Chech is toch, I am not toch

  We chech and I chech I chech

  Chech, chech, chech is not chech

  I chech ul khul

  I chech I am ul khul

  Chul chul you are their chul

  Mul chul you are khul

  I am a prick, but not yours

  You are mine, but I am not yours

  Mine is a prick because the Prick

  I am the Prick, I am the Prick

  I am God in my prick

  I am God in my prick.

  Yours is a prick, not mine not mine

  I am a prick in His prick.

  I prick, prick, prick

  You are a prick, but not the Prick

  I can prick, prick

  You cannot prick a prick

  I am not a prick in your prick

  I am a prick in His prick.

  Chuyu, chuy, I am not chuy

  You are chuy not mine in chuy.

  I am chuy, chuy, you are not chuy.

  We are chuy, not not chuy

  Chuy, chuy, chuy, not chushuya.

  I am not a chuy in a scaly skin

  I am a chuy, I am a chuy chuy

  Chuy chuy chuy, but not uy

  Uy is intelligence, but not mine

  I am intelligencing I love

  Mine is the intelligence in the chuy intelligence

  I am chuy. I love.

  Chuy, chuy, chuy not scaly skin.

  I am God not in a scaly skin.

  A scaly skin is intelligence in chuy

  I am chuy, I am chuy.

  I want to write a lot to you, but I cannot work with you, for your aims are different. I know that you know how to pretend. I don’t like pretending. I like pretense when a person wants the good of others. You are a spiteful man. You are not king. But I am. You are not my king, but I am your king. You wish me harm, I do not wish harm. You are a spiteful man, but I am a lullabyer. Rockabye, bye, bye, bye. Sleep in peace, rockabye, bye. Bye. Bye. Bye.

  Man to man

  Vaslav Nijinsky.

  —Translated from Russian by Kyril FitzLyon

  TO JEAN COCTEAU

  In 1909, during the Ballets Russes’ first season in Paris, the nineteen-year-old Jean Cocteau became a fan and friend of the company. Soon he was working for it as well. With Frédéric de Madrazo, he composed the libretto for Le Dieu Bleu (1912), which starred Nijinsky. He was also the librettist for Parade (1917) and Le Train Bleu (1924). Cocteau, then, was part of the Ballets Russes circle from which Nijinsky in 1919 saw himself as banished, and his resentment surfaces in this letter. He describes Cocteau as a man “without light.” He then takes off on a long flight of associations. Near the end of the letter he says, “I write very badly but I want to tell you that I love you. I love you, my dear Cocto.” Then the sound coc (Fr., coq, rooster) launches him on another flight of associations, including Russian words. He brings in mia and tia, Church Slavonic for “me” and “thee,” respectively. Mia becomes miaou (Fr., meow), which then takes him to chat (Fr., cat). He ends, “With friendship for a man but not Cocto, Vaslav Nijinsky.”

  —J.A.

  Homme.

  Je suis un homme

  Je suis un homme

  Vous ette un homme

  Vous ette un homme

  Votre homme est une home

  Votre home est un homme

  Je suis homme

  Je suis homme

  Vous ette homme mes pas un homme

  Je suis homm
e mes pas un home

  Vous ette home mes pas un homme

  Homme ne home me home me home

  Home un homme mes pas un homme

  Vous ette home, je suis un home

  Vous ette home sens lumièr

  Je suis home avec lumièr

  Je suis homme avec un coeur

  Vous ette home sens lumièr

  Je suis home avec lumièr

  Votre home ne pas un homme

  Horn est homme ne pas un pomme,

  Pomme est pomme est pomme est pomme

  Pomme est pomme est pomme est pomme

  Pomme est pomme ne pas un pont

  Pont est pont pas un pomme

  Pomme pomme pone pone pone

  Ponee nonee nonee ponee

  Lonee ponee nonee ponee

  Ronee ronee ronee ronee