The Paris Review

Excerpts from a Grumpy Russian Poet’s Diary

Igor Kholin. Illustrations by Ripley Whiteside.

The Russian poet Igor Kholin died in 1999 an underappreciated talent, but his literary star is on the rise. His Selected Poems were published in 1999 to wide acclaim, followed by his collected prose. This year, a new collection of his diaries and prose will be published in Russia. Ugly Duckling Presse released Kholin 1966: Diaries and Poems this past spring. We’ve published an excerpt of these diary entries—selected from his 1966 diaries and translated by Ainsley Morse and Bela Shayevich—below. —Ed. 

August 17

I remember that as a kid I was particularly sensitive to verbal insults.

I think that poems should adhere to three rules. They should be:

1) Formally solid.

2) Emotional.

3) Intellectual.

I came to these conclusions in part after reading a piece by Krishnamurti.

Both my neighbors were utterly drunk. One of them dragged the other one home on a horse. They’re both around 70. 

September 11

Not a soul in the house besides me and the cat.

Yodkovsky Edmund Feliksovich. 33 years old. A towering hulk. A human chart. Overall a pretty decent person. However, his shortcomings exceed his positive qualities. My note about him will contain certain contradictions. Such is his nature.

Positive quality—he’s kind. Negative—inhumane. Positive—he knows a lot. Negative—he’s incapable of making sense of phenomena. To be more precise—he’s not a thinking person. Messy. Eats for three. Clumsy. Bad dresser. Impossibly gross when it comes to women. I don’t know how he gets away with it. But then again, that’s the kind of woman he goes for. As they say: birds of a feather. I’ve never seen Yodkovsky with a smart woman. Except for his first wife, Tamara Gromova. But she, too, had her limitations. Though in the end, it did dawn on her to leave him. Otherwise she’d have been miserable her whole life. His second wife, Marina, is as dumb as a doorknob. When he married her he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Then things cooled off. She got pregnant. She was right about

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The Plimpton Circle is a remarkable group of individuals and organizations whose annual contributions of $2,500 or more help advance the work of The Paris Review Foundation. The Foundation gratefully acknowledges: 1919 Investment Counsel • Gale Arnol

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