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Historical View of the Languages and Literature of the Slavic by Therese Albertine Louise von Jacob Robinson

T >> Therese Albertine Louise von Jacob Robinson >> Historical View of the Languages and Literature of the Slavic




Vuk Stephanovitch Karadshitch must therefore be called the true
discoverer of this mine of beauty; and the judiciousness, patience,
and conscientious honesty, with which his collection was got up,
deserves the highest praise. Many of the remarkable songs first
communicated to the literary public were the reminiscences of his own
youth; for he was born and brought up in Turkish Servia. Many more he
was only able to find after years of careful and indefatigable
research. His large collection--four volumes with at least five or six
hundred pieces of poetry--was formed upon the principle, that no piece
should be admitted, for the genuineness of which he could not be
personally responsible, by having himself heard it from one of the
people. Nearly the third part of these poems consists of epic tales;
some of them from five to seven hundred verses long; one, more than
twelve hundred.

The poetry of the Servians is most intimately interwoven with their
daily life. It is the picture of their thoughts, feelings, actions,
and sufferings; it is the mental reproduction of the respective
conditions of the mass of individuals, who compose the nation. The
hall where the women sit spinning around the fireside; the mountains
on which the boys pasture their flocks; the square where the village
youth assemble to dance the _kolo_,[42] the plains where the harvest
is reaped; the forests through which the lonely traveller
journeys,--all resound with song. Song accompanies all kinds of
business, and frequently relates to it. The Servian _lives_ his
poetry.

The Servians are accustomed to divide their songs into two great
portions. Short compositions in various measures, either lyric or
epic, and sung without instrumental accompaniment, they call _shenske
pjesme_, or _female songs_, because they are mostly made by females.
The other portion, consisting of long epic tales in verses of five
regular trochaic feet, and chanted to the _Gusle_, a kind of simple
violin with one chord, they called _Yunatchke pjesme,_ that is,
_heroic_ or _young men's songs_; for it is an interesting fact, that
the ideas of a _young man_ and of a _hero_, are expressed in Servian
by one and the same word, _Yunak_. The first are, in a very high
degree, of a domestic character. They accompany us through all the
different relations of domestic life; as well through its daily
occupations, as through the holidays and festivals which interrupt its
ordinary course. Much has been said, and more could be said, in praise
of these harmonious effusions of a tender, fresh, and unsophisticated
feeling; but, as we have already dwelt at large upon their general
character, we must be satisfied here with adding only that which
distinguishes Servian lays from other Slavic songs.

And this distinction we find principally in the _cheerfulness_, which
is the fundamental element of Servian poetry,--a serenity clear and
transparent like the bright blue of a southern sky. The allusions to
the misfortunes of married life alone, gather sometimes in heavy
clouds on this beautiful sky. The fear of being chained to an _old_
man, or of a grim mother-in-law, or the quarrelling of the
sisters-in-law, or the increasing cares of the household,--for, in the
true patriarchal style, married sons remain in the house of the
parents, and all make together only one family,--all these
circumstances disturb sometimes the inexhaustible serenity of the
Servian women, and call forth gentle lamentations, or perhaps still
oftener horrible imprecations, from their humble breasts. Indeed the
songs not made for particular occasions also bear strongly and
distinctly the stamp of domestic life, and are fall of allusions to
family relations.

A spirit of graceful roguery is very prevalent among Servian girls.
Their social spinning meetings are especially productive of little
witty ballads, in which men and women are represented as disputing,
and the former, of course, are always outwitted; just as is the case
in numerous English and German popular ballads. But love is also among
them the grand and prevailing theme. To judge from these songs,
Servian girls and youths keep up a frequent and tender intercourse
with each other. The youth bears carefully in memory the hour when the
girls go to fetch water; and the frequent festivities, where the dance
is not permitted to fail, give the best opportunity for mutual
intercourse. Further to the south, and between the mountains, the
customs are more strict, and love-songs are less frequent.

Among the ancient songs, recited on certain stated occasions, the
wedding songs, adapted to all the various ceremonies of Slavic
marriage, are the most remarkable. And here we meet again with one of
those various contradictions of the mental world, which puzzle
philosophy. While all the symbolic ceremonies are strongly indicative
of the shameful state of servitude and humiliation, to which the
institution of marriage subjects the Slavic woman[43] (for Slavic
_maidens_ are in a certain measure free and happy, and, if beautiful
and industrious, even honoured and sought after;) the _songs_, the
mental reproductions of these coarse, rough, humiliating _acts_, are
delicate, sprightly, and almost gallant. There are various
indications, that, like the Russian songs of this description, which
they strongly resemble, they are derived from a very early period.
Like them they have no allusion to church ceremonies.[44]

The feeling expressed in their love-songs is in general gentle and
often playful, indicating more of tenderness than of passion. If,
however, they are excited to anger, their hatred becomes rage; and is
poured forth in imprecations, of which no other language has a like
multitude. But these imprecations are not stereotype, as is the case
with most other nations. They are composed often, with astonishing
ingenuity, by the offended persons themselves. Sometimes we see curses
invoked upon the satisfying of the common wants of life. Thus when the
lad curses his faithless love: "As much bread as she eats, so much
pain may she suffer! as much water as she drinks, so many tears may
she shed!"

We subjoin a few of these Servian ballads as specimens, just as they
happen to come to hand.


PARTING LOVERS.

To white Buda, to white castled Buda
Clings the vine-tree, cling the vine-tree branches;
Not the vine-tree is it with its branches,
No, it is a pair of faithful lovers.
From their early youth they were betrothed,
Now they are compelled to part untimely;
One addressed the other at their parting:
"Go, my dearest soul, and go straight forward,
Thou wilt find a hedge-surrounded garden,
Thou wilt find a rose-bush in the garden,
Pluck a little branch off from the rose-bush,
Place it on thy heart, within thy bosom;
Even as that red rose will be fading,
Even so, love, will my heart be fading."
And the other love this answer gave then;
"Thou, dear soul, go back a few short paces,
Thou wilt find, my love, a verdant forest,
In the forest stands a cooling fountain,
In the fountain lies a block of marble;
On the marble stands a golden goblet,
In the goblet thou wilt find a snowball.
Dearest, take that snowball from the goblet,
Lay it on thy heart within thy bosom;
Even as the snowball will be melting,
Even so, love, will my heart be melting."


RENDEZVOUS.

Sweetheart, come, and let us kiss each other!
But, O tell me, where shall be our meeting?
In thy garden, love, or in my garden?
Under thine or under mine own rose-trees?
Thou, sweet soul, become thyself a rose-bud;
I then to a butterfly will change me;
Fluttering I will drop upon the rose-bud;
Folks will think I'm hanging on a flower,
While a lovely maiden I am kissing!


ST. GEORGE'S DAY.

To St. George's day the maiden prayed;
"Com'st thou again, O dear St. George's day!
Find me not here, by my mother dear,
Or be it wed, or be it dead!--
But rather than dead, I would be wed!" [45]


UNITED IN DEATH.

Two young lovers loved each other fondly,
And they washed them at the self-same water,
And they dried them with the self-same napkin.
One year passed, their love was known by no one;
Two years passed, and all the world did know it,
And the father heard it and the mother;
And their love the mother would not suffer,
But she parted the two tender lovers.

Through a star the youth sent to the maiden:
"Die, O love, on Saturday at evening,
I, thy youth, will die on Sunday morning."
And they did as they had told each other;
Died the maiden Saturday at evening.
Died the youth on Sunday morning early;
Close together were the two then buried;
Through the earth their hands were clasped together;
In their hands were placed two young green apples.

Little time had passed since they were buried;
O'er the youth sprang up a verdant pine-tree,
O'er the maid a bush with sweet red roses;
Round the pine-tree winds itself the rose-bush,
As the silk around a bunch of flowers.

But not all the female Servian songs exhibit so much tenderness. That
their usual gentleness and humility does not always prevent these poor
oppressed beings from sometimes taking the lead in domestic affairs,
one would be apt to conclude from the following ballad:


HOUSEHOLD MATTERS.

Come, companion, let us hurry
That we may be early home,
For my mother-in-law is cross,
Only yestreen she accused me,
Said that I had beat my husband;
When, poor soul, I had not touched him.
Only bid him wash the dishes,
And he would not wash the dishes;
Threw then at his head the pitcher,
Knocked a hole in head and pitcher;
For the head I do not care much;
But I care much for the pitcher,
As I paid for it right dearly;
Paid for it with one wild apple,
Yes, and half a one besides.[46]

Objects of still higher admiration the Servians afford us in their
_heroic_ poems. Indeed, what epic popular poetry is, how it is
produced and propagated, what powers of invention it naturally
exhibits,--powers which no art can command,--we may learn from this
multitude of simple legends and complicated fables. The Servians stand
in this respect quite isolated; there is no modern nation, that can be
compared to them in epic productiveness; and a new light seems to be
thrown over the grand compositions of the ancients. Thus, without
presumption, we may pronounce the publication of these poems one of
the most remarkable literary events of modern times.

The general character of the Servian tales is the _objective_ and the
_plastic_. The poet, in most cases, is in a remarkable degree _above_
his subject. He paints his pictures not in glowing colours, but in
distinct, prominent features; no explanation is necessary to interpret
what the reader thinks he sees with his own eyes. If we compare the
Servian epics with those, which other Slavic nations formerly
possessed, we find them greatly superior. In the Russian _Igor_, the
whole narrative is exceedingly indistinct; you may read the whole of
it five times, without being able clearly to follow out the
composition. Not a single character stands out in relief. The mode of
representation has more of the lyric than of the epic. The ancient
Bohemian poems have more distinctness and freshness. No obscurity
disturbs us. But the passions of the poet break forth so often, as to
give the whole narration something of the subjective character; while
the Servian, even when representing his countrymen in combat with
their mortal enemies and oppressors, displays about the same
partiality for the former, as Homer for his Greeks.

The introductions, not only to the tales themselves, but even to new
situations, are frequently allegorical. A distinct image is placed
before the eyes at once. A tale, describing a famous sanguinary deed
of revenge, commences thus:

What's that cry of anguish from Banyani?[47]
Is 't the Vila? is 't the hateful serpent?
Were 't the Vila, she were on the summit;
Were 't the serpent, it were 'neath the mountain;
Not the Vila is it, nor a serpent;

Shrieked in anguish thus Perovitch Balritch
In the hands of Osman, son of Tchorov. [45]

Ravens are the messengers of unhappy news. The battle of Mishar begins
with the following verses:

Flying came a pair of coal-black ravens
Far away from the broad field of Mishar,
Far from Shabatz, from the high white fortress;
Bloody were their beaks unto the eyelids,
Bloody were their talons to the ankles;
And they flew along the fertile Matshva,
Waded quickly through the billowy Drina,
Journey'd onward through the honoured Bosnia,
Lighting down upon the hateful border,
'Midst within the accursed town of Vakup,
On the dwelling of the captain Kulin;
Lighting down and croaking as they lighted.

Three or four poems, of which courtships or weddings are the subjects,
begin with a description of the beauty of the girl. Especially rich
and complete is the following:

Never since the world had its beginning,
Never did a lovelier flow'ret blossom,
Than the flow'ret in our own days blooming;
Haikuna, the lovely maiden flower.

She was lovely, nothing e'er was lovelier!
She was tall and slender as the pine-tree;
White her cheeks, but tinged with rosy blushes,
As if morning's beam had shone upon them,
Till that beam had reached its high meridian.
And her eyes, they were two precious jewels,

And her eyebrows, leeches from the ocean,
And her eyelids they were wings of swallows;
And her flaxen braids were silken tassels;
And her sweet mouth was a sugar casket,
And her teeth were pearls arrayed in order;
White her bosom, like two snowy dovelets,
And her voice was like the dovelet's cooing;
And her smiles were like the glowing sunshine;
And her fame, the story of her beauty,
Spread through Bosnia and through Herz'govina.

We should never end, if we continued thus to extract all the beautiful
and striking passages from the Servian popular lyrics; although their
chief merit by no means consists in beautiful passages, but, in most
cases, in the composition of the whole, and in the distinct, graphic,
and plastic mode of representation. In respect to their style, we add
only a single remark. Slavic popular poetry in general has none of the
vulgarisms, which, in many cases, deface the popular ballads of the
Teutonic nations. Yet _dignity_ of style cannot be expected in any
popular production. Those whose feelings, from want of acquaintance
with the poetry of nature, are apt to be hurt by certain undignified
expressions interspersed unconsciously sometimes in the most beautiful
descriptions, will not escape unpleasant impressions in reading the
Servian songs. The pictures are always fresh, tangible, and striking;
but, although not seldom the effects of the sublime, and of the
deepest tragic pathos, are obtained by a perfect simplicity, nothing
could be more foreign to them than the dignified stateliness and
scrupulous refinement of the French stage.

The number and variety of the Servian heroic poems is immense. The
oldest legendary cycle is formed by their great Tzar Dushan Nemanyitch
and his heroes; by the pious prince Lazar, their last independent
chief, who was executed by the Turks after having been made prisoner
in battle; and by the death of his faithful knights on the field of
Kossovo. The two battles fought here, in 1389 and 1447, put an end to
the existence of the Servian empire. In immediate connection with
these epic songs are those of which Marko Kralyewitch, i.e. Marko the
king's son, the Servian Hercules, is the hero; at least thirty or
forty in number. The pictures, which these ballads exhibit, are
extremely wild and bold; and are often drawn on a mythological ground.
Indeed both the epic and the lyric poetry of the Servians are
interwoven with a traditional belief in certain fanciful creatures of
Pagan superstition, which exercise a constant influence on human
affairs. Witches (_Vjashtitzi_), veiled women who go from house to
house, carrying with them destruction; the plague, personified as an
old horrible looking female; and also the saints, and among them the
_thunderer_ Elias and the _fiery_ Mary who sends lightning; these all
appear occasionally. But the principal figure is the Vila, a mountain
fairy, having nearly the same character as the northern elementary
spirits; though the malicious qualities predominate, and her
intermeddling is in most cases fatal.

There are various features which serve to allay the extreme wildness
and rudeness of the oldest Servian poems. As one of the principal of
these we consider the solemn institution of a contract of brotherhood
or fraternal friendship, which the Servians seem to have inherited
from the Scythians.[49] Two men or two women promise each other before
the altar, and under solemn ceremonies, in the name of God and St.
John, eternal friendship. They bind themselves by this act to all the
mutual duties of brothers and sisters. Similar relations exist also
between the two sexes, when a maid solemnly calls an old man her
"father in God," or a young one her "brother in God;" or when a man
calls a woman his "mother or sister in God." This is mostly done in
cases of distress. When a person, thus appealed to, accepts the
appellation, they are in duty bound to protect and to take care of the
unfortunate, who thus give themselves into their hands; according to
the prevailing notion, a breach of this contract is severely punished
by Heaven. Marko Kralyevitch was united in such an alliance with the
Vila; in modern times we find it sometimes between Turks and Servians
in the midst of their most bitter feuds.

The traditional ballads of the Servians, referring to the heroes of
their golden time, are undoubtedly in their groundwork of great
antiquity; but as until recently they have been preserved only by
tradition, it cannot be supposed, that they have come down in their
present form from the original time of their composition; which was
perhaps nearly cotemporary to the events they celebrate. In most of
them frequent Turcisms show, that the singer is familiar with the
conquerors and their language. According to Vuk, very few are in their
present form older than the fifteenth century.

The more modern heroic ballads--for the productiveness of this
remarkable people is still alive--are essentially of the same
character. They may be divided into two parts. One division, probably
composed during the last two centuries and down even to the present
time, is devoted to a variety of subjects, public and private. Duels,
love stories, satisfaction of blood-revenge, domestic quarrels and
reconciliation, are alternately related. The variety of invention in
these tales is astonishing; the skill of the combinations and the
final development surpasses all that hitherto has been known of
popular poetry. One of the most remarkable of them is a narrative of
1227 lines; which relates to the marriage of a young man, Maxim
Tzernovitch, son of Ivan Tzernovitch, a wealthy and powerful
Servian. The father goes to Venice to ask in marriage for his son the
daughter of the Doge. He describes him as the handsomest of young men;
but, when he comes home, he finds him metamorphosed by the smallpox
into the ugliest. By the advice of his wife, he substitutes another
handsome young man to fetch home the bride with the procession of
bridal guests; promising him the principal share in the bridal gifts;
for he commits the fraud less from covetous views than from pride,
being afraid of being put to shame as unable to keep his word before
the haughty Venetians. They succeed in bringing away the bride; but
the cheat is discovered on the road; a contest arises, and the whole
affair ends in a horrible slaughter.

Vuk Stephanovitch has heard this tale repeatedly, and with several
variations; but the principal features, for instance a rich and
elaborate description of the bridal gifts, were always recited exactly
in the same words. It was chanted in the most perfect manner by an old
singer, named Milya, whom prince Milosh often had to sing it before
him; and from whose lips Vuk at last took it down.

Another section of more modern ballads narrates events from the latest
war between the Servians and Turks, between 1801 and 1815. Who of our
readers has not heard of Kara George? His companions, Yanko Katitch,
Stoyan Tchupitch, Milosh of Potzerye, are in Servia as well known and
admired as Kara George himself. They and their comrades are the heroes
of these ballads. The gallant Tchupitch rewarded the blind poet
Philip, who chanted to him a long and beautiful poem of his own
composition, with a white horse. The subject of his narrative was the
battle of Salash; where Tchupitch himself had been the Servian
commander.[59]

The same ballad singer Philip is the author of most of the modern
heroic poems. Of others the authors are not known. Little stress is
laid on the art of poetry; exercised with such extraordinary power.
These productions of our day are by no means inferior to the ancient.
There is indeed no essential difference, either in their diction or in
their conception; and it is easy to be perceived, that old and young
have been nursed from their infancy on tales of "the days of yore."
Some passages of Philip's ballads are really Homeric.[51] Fortunately,
the period is past when our admiration for hyperborean poetry needed
to be justified by its similarity with the classics. We have learned
that real poetry is not spell-bound to names, nor to any nation or
age; and the _beautiful_ has obtained in our time an independent
existence, no longer subject to certain forms and conditions, but
resting on itself and its divine gifts.

The difficulties Vuk Stephanovitch met with in collecting these
wonderful ballads, were not small. He was often hardly able to prevail
on the young men and girls to recite, still less to sing them before
him; partly from a natural shyness to exhibit themselves before a
stranger; partly because his search after effusions which had so
little value in their eyes, and his attempt to fix them by writing,
seemed to them an idle and useless occupation. The only reason which
they could conceive for it was, that the learned idler meant to
ridicule them; and his request was frequently answered by the words:
"We are no blind men to sing or recite songs to you."

Of the heroic poems, he tells us, that they are not only chanted, but
often recited, as _we_ are accustomed to _read_; and that in this
latter way, old people teach them by preference to the children. His
own father, grandfather, and uncle, were wont to recite and to sing
them; and the two latter even composed not a few. Among those from
whose lips he took down the present collection, were lads, peasants,
merchants, as also hayduks, i.e. highwaymen, in Servia a mode of life
less disreputable than with us, and somewhat approaching to heroism.
Further, at least seven or eight were blind men; all of them
professional bards, and almost the only persons willing to satisfy
him. The _shenske pjesme_, or female poems, he had to catch by chance;
and short as they are, it was easy to keep them in memory after having
heard them once or twice.

While these latter poems are mostly sung without any instrumental
accompaniment in the spinning-rooms, in the pastures, or at the
village dances; on the other hand the tavern, the public squares, the
festive halls of the chiefs, are the places where the Gusle is heard
which accompanies the heroic ballads. The bard chants two lines; then
he pauses and gives a few plaintive strokes on his primitive
instrument; then he chants again, and so on. He needs these short
pauses for recollection, as well as for invention. Although these
ballads are chiefly sung by blind men, yet no hero thinks it beneath
him to chant them to the Gusle. Pirch, a Prussian officer, who
travelled in Servia some twenty years ago, tells us, that the Knjas,
his host, took the instrument from the hands of the lad, for whom he
had sent to sing before his guest, because he did not satisfy him, and
played and chanted himself with a superior skill. Clergymen themselves
are not ashamed to do it. Nay, even Muhammedan-Bosnians, more Turks
than Servians, have preserved this partiality for their national
heroics. The great among them would not, indeed, themselves sing them;
but they cause them to be chanted before them; and it happened, that a
Christian prisoner in Semendria obtained his liberty by their
intercession with the Kadi, which he owed merely to their fondness for
his ballads. A considerable number of fine songs are marked in Vuk's
collection as having been first heard from Muhammedan singers.

Although the same ballads are not heard every where, yet the poetical
feeling and productiveness seem to be pretty equally distributed over
all the region inhabited by the Servian race. The heroic ballads
originate mostly in the southern mountains of Servia, in Bosnia,
Montenegro, and its Dalmatian neighbourhood. Towards the North-East
the productiveness diminishes; the songs are still _known_ in the
Austrian provinces, but the recitation of them, and the Gusle itself,
are left to blind men and beggars. Pirch heard, nevertheless, the
ballads of Marko Kralyevitch in the vicinity of Neusatz, in Hungary.
On the other hand, the amatory Servian ballads, and all those
comprised under the name of female songs,--although by no means
exclusively sung by women,--originate chiefly in those regions, where
perhaps a glimpse of occidental civilization has somewhat refined the
general feeling. The _villages_ of Syrmia, the Banat, and the Batchva,
are the home of most of them; in the Bosnian towns also they are
heard; while in the _cities_ of the Austrian provinces they have been
superseded by modern airs of less value, perhaps, and certainly of
less nationality.

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