Цената

I think that it is sometimes difficult to judge the qualities of works of art, and even more so the moods of artists and readers, based solely on what is written about them. The world of art is much more extensive than is usually assumed, and the paths of artistic influence are much more complex than they seem at first glance, in order to encompass them from one or another observation post without falling into obsessions. Therefore, we very often see that, along with the names that we have surrounded with recognition, people also carry in their minds others that have remained outside our horizon, along with proven values, they also enjoy those that seem controversial to us, along with the pointed examples of civic and creative behavior worthy of imitation, they also admire those who do not bear the mark of heroism. On this basis, some forgotten artists, sometimes justly - sometimes unjustly, come to life through the memory of their acquaintances and sometimes even become legends in famous circles of admirers before their works have reached the average reader. When I say this, I will not say a word, I have in mind more than one case, but it is enough to mention just one that interests me at the moment and seems to me one of the most characteristic - it is enough to mention the case of Alexander Vutimsky. Alexander Vutimsky, as is known, lived in great poverty and died very young, barely twenty-four years old. Despite the efforts of relatives and friends, which some letters suggest, during his lifetime he was unable to publish his works in a separate book and present himself fully to readers. Thus, his poems remained for many years in the dusty pages of magazines or in some private archives, accessible only to a very narrow circle of poetry lovers. And surprisingly, this undeserved neglect lasted for a very long time - almost two decades after his death. Fate has not been kind to him this time either: between fasts he is the last of the benevolent friends of our world whom we have thought of. Yet it would be inaccurate to claim that during these years he remained among the forgotten - due to the nature of his poetry, which is difficult to connect with the tasks of modernity, he was rather silenced, forgotten forever. And indeed, if it is true that Alexander Vutimsky is a relatively new name for a large number of young readers, it is also true that he has often occupied a significant place in private conversations and literary discussions of recent years. The number of those who have had the opportunity to read him is small, but many are those who live with the memory of his poetry and his tragic fate. It may seem strange, but there is no doubt that this young man, who died early, before establishing himself as an artist, with his poetry and his personal fate, reflects on many of the living - and today we feel his presence in the moods, intonation and figurative thinking of some poets of his generation. Therefore, contrary to expectations, the small collection of his works, entitled "Poems", which was published two years ago (1960), came at least for the Literary circles not to discover and establish a name, but to respond with great delay to an already ripe interest. This book came to outline the real dimensions of a literary work, which was most often assessed in the 1960s. The Hoarseness of Memory and a Woman Already with a Legend.

I will not hide that I was moved at the time by this book - The Price of Gold". I touched the exalted soul of the unknown author, the assertive, angry, music cut into sharp and metallic sounds that does not flow, but drags you along with it. As if everything is a revelation that is impossible not to make. And I did not dare to write a single line! This story was so intimate and personal that it forced you to listen to it rather than discuss it. Later I met the author. It turned out that the first impression of the book was not accidental. That it really poured out the entire subjectivity of this man - nervous and painfully acute, with a subtle sense of beauty. It is impossible to talk calmly with Gencho Stoev. He keeps you on your guard, always challenges you and makes you argue. He assesses every fact from his own angle, makes it more unusual, by taking it out of the usual order. Being in his consciousness becomes a movement towards his inner understanding of the beautiful. Always conflicting! Harmony blinds his eyes and this makes him desire it even more ardently. That is why reconciliation touches him less often. His suffering is as if second nature. I have the feeling that G. Stoev is constantly self-analyzing, but not only to make an accurate assessment, but also to provoke pain, self-torment, reproach to himself and the world, in order to experience irritation, which increases the internal tension of thought.