Word: evtushenkos
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...between the Russians and their rulers to that between Peter the Great and one of his mistresses. Having cut off the poor wench's head, the czar snatched it up again by the hair and then, according to eyewitnesses, kissed the bloody carrion passionately on the lips. Unlike Evtushenko, however, Voznesensky is not primarily a political poet. He is concerned with politics because he is concerned with the suffering it causes, but he clearly comprehends that not all suffering is politically produced. In one of his most dreadful and beautiful poems he describes...
Poetry, like steam, is made under pressure. In Russia the pressure of totalitarian control on a rapidly enlarging spirit of freedom keeps poetry hissing-hot. Evgeny Evtushenko first blew his stack back in 1957, and since then vigorous young poets have come geysering out of the masses with a frequency alarming to the Soviet regime...
...these belligerent young bards, 33-year-old Andrei Voznesensky, now rivals Evtushenko in popularity. His latest volume of verse ran up an advance sale of 100,000 in Russia, and his public readings have packed a Moscow sports palace with 14,000 bellowing poetry buffs. What is more, in these always adequate and sometimes redoubtable translations, Voznesensky (pronounced Voz-nes-yen-ski) considerably surpasses Evtushenko in poetic capacity. He is indisputably the most powerful lyric poet to appear in Russia since Pasternak...
...wrote Soviet Poet Evgeny Evtushenko in Literaturnaya Gazeta, addressing his nice, good, old pal John Steinbeck, whom he met during the author's 1963 visit to Russia. Evtushenko was scolding Steinbeck for not speaking out against the Vietnamese...
Nonetheless, Evgeny Evtushenko, the bad boychik of Soviet letters, was at it again, this time kicking up a few vaguely dangerous poetic heels at the party during a Moscow meeting on the 70th anniversary of the birth of the great Russian village poet, Sergei Esenin. In his 52-line Letter to Esenin, Evtushenko raged oratorically on about how the "red-cheeked Komsomol leader thunders with his fists at us poets and wants to knead our souls like wax." The lines rang a bell for Sergei Pavlov, the red-cheeked secretary of the Komsomol (Young Communist League). He stormed...