Walks on the Water

Golgotha_by_Repin.jpg

Did you (especially if you’re a Princeton student) know that the Princeton University Art Museum has a Repin painting? It’s hardly ever on display; I haven’t seen it in many years, unless I missed something. Perhaps when they open the new museum they’ll have room to show it. It’s called Голгофа (Golgotha), and is quite a hellish, relentlessly realistic depiction of… not the crucifixion, but its aftermath. Christ’s body has been removed (we see the “King of the Jews” inscription above the cross lying on the ground; by the way, can you unravel, psychologically, why Pilate ordered that inscription in the first place? It’s quite interesting!), to be buried, simply because Joseph of Arimathea offered his tomb and asked Pilate for permission to remove the body from the cross. Meanwhile, the bodies of the two thieves have been left on their crosses, as was the usual practice — to be eaten by wild animals, as a warning to others; crucifixion was the most ignominious death one could imagine (that was the entire point). Already here, dogs are gathering, even licking the gore from the arms of Christ’s cross. The canvas is dark, garish, and chaotic, capturing what in Russian might be called безобразие in the deepest sense (monstrous, meaningless chaos), as opposed to some kind of “cosmos,” divine order or justice — or, in a Christian context, the “logos” that is Christ himself. Confronted with this canvas, faith in that divine order, and specifically in the possibility of resurrection, seems impossible. In this sense it is reminiscent of the interior of the Isenheim Alterpiece, or Holbein’s “Body of Christ in the Tomb,” a painting that obsessed Dostoevsky and figures prominently in The Idiot.

This painting is especially striking in a (Russian) Orthodox context, since Orthodoxy — and its iconography — emphasizes the crucifixion as a triumph over death, as a paradoxical act of “trampling down death by death.” The emphasis is not on the grotesque suffering of the cross, but on the coming resurrection; on life, not death. Thus, traditional Orthodox icons of the crucifixion usually depict Christ as seemingly weightless, as “elevated” in a spiritual sense, with arms opened as if in an invitation to an embrace: “If I be lifted up from the earth, I will draw all men unto me.” By the way, you’ll notice on most such icons a small skull in a kind of hole at the foot of the cross. This is Adam’s skull, and reflects the legend that the crucifixion occurred above the place where Adam was buried. The symbolism is very important, since by the crucifixion and resurrection Christ, as a second Adam, abolishes Adam’s sin, along with the death that that sin brought into the world.

Today’s song is another very well-known one from Nautilus Pompilius. While we’ve seen vaguely religious sentiments expressed elsewhere (in Tsoi, for example), the fact that this 1991 song is so overtly Christian is worth noting, given the official atheism of the Soviet regime. But, its Biblical context aside, what the song shares with so many others from the period is its concern with age-old existential questions — meaning, suffering, the search for joy — that the Soviet emphasis on collectivity and material progress sought to ignore as anachronistic.

I think all of this informs the action in this enigmatic song, by Nautilus Pompilius, if only vaguely: the point seems to be Andrew’s lack of faith (the beastly helmets, the circling crow), but, even more than that, his obsession with unraveling the “secret” of salvation. It opens with Andrew seeing Christ saving drowning people, while he catches minnows; he asks the the “secret” to be revealed. This moment recalls the scene in the New Testament when two other disciples, James and John, ask Christ to be allowed to sit to his left and right when he “comes into his glory.” They ask this as they are approaching Jerusalem, perhaps in the mistaken assumption that Christ’s glory will be “of this world,” that he will triumph in some conventional sense, as an earthly king. He then asks them whether they can “drink of the cup” that he is to drink from — meaning, of course, his crucifixion. This reply, and especially its tone — which makes clear what Kierkegaard would call the “infinite qualitative distance” between the human and the divine, not to mention the “condescension” required of the divine when speaking to men — is captured in the song: go “hang on the cross for a while” (note the -ка suffix; it’s as if he’s speaking to a child, or reducing the cross to some kind of trifle). Then, when you get tired of it, come back to walk on the water.

By the way, the fishing scene here is no accident; it alludes to Christ’s calling of Peter and Andrew: “And Jesus, walking by the sea of Galilee, saw two brethren, Simon called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea: for they were fishers. And he saith unto them, Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men. And they straightway left their nets, and followed him” (Matthew 18-20). We can read this song as an unpacking of this decision to become a disciple, particularly in light of the New Testament refrain of what is required of one if one wants to “follow” Christ.

To interpret the song quite straightforwardly, Andrew wants “the secret” revealed — presumably, the secret of how to walk on water and save those thought lost; Christ says there is no secret — just go hang on the cross, and then return! He makes it sound easy, but Andrew despairs at the sight of the soldiers and the crows; he insists again on simply being told the secret, and “leaving the cross for later.” Perhaps he imagines that “truth” is something we know, and something that can be explained, rather than something that must be lived. In this sense Andrew sounds much like a gnostic heretic. It reminds me of another famous encounter in the New Testament (one also depicted in Russian art, by Nikolai Ge): when Pilate asks Christ: “What is truth?” Christ does not answer it (does this remind my well-read audience of the encounter with the Grand Inquisitor in The Brothers Karamazov?!). Pilate’s cynical, idle question unwittingly reveals the depth of his misunderstanding: the more appropriate question would have been “Who is truth?” — and Christ’s answer would have been “I am.” Perhaps if the correct question had been asked, it would have met with an answer. This kind of conception of truth informs the entire tradition of Russian religious philosophy, by the way. Anyway, the point is that there’s no real secret at all: give up your life, and you’ll begin to live; go be crucified, and you’ll walk on water. It’s as simple as can be, yet seemingly impossible to do — or perhaps more importantly, more impossible to believe.

Without speculating further, I’ve always understood the song to be a rather joyous abandonment of some obsession with mystery, with suffering, with death, and an embrace of the miraculous — an embrace involving a child-like, unreflective faith, not a brooding reflection on the world’s evil, which can seem ever more insurmountable the more one focuses on it. Sadly, Andrew seems not to have learned this lesson; he insists on making things difficult. Perhaps later he’ll come to understand how simple life really is, or should be.

Of course, like all of the disciples except for St. John the Evangelist, Andrew would eventually “drink of the cup” of martyrdom; Andrew was crucified.

So, why Andrew? I don’t pretend to know, but it’s a well-known legend that Andrew preached in the Black Sea region, even as far as today’s Kiev, and for this reason is regarded as the “apostle” to the Slavs, including to Russia. Of course, Russia was actually converted in 988.

This song contains a verb of motion one doesn’t see every day: бродить Иshift - брести Дend / побрести Д: to roam, wander, shuffle, plod.

 

Walks on the Water

The apostle Andrew was fishing from the pier,
While the Savior was walking on water.
And Andrew was pulling tiny fish from the water,
While the Savior was pulling people who were lost.

And Andrew shouted: I’ll abandon the pier
If you reveal the secret to me.
And the Savior answered: Calm down, Andrew,
There’s no secret here at all.

You see, there on the mountain a cross is being raised.
Beneath it a dozen soldiers. Why don’t you hang on it for a bit,
And when you get tired of it, come back here
To walk on the water, to walk on the water,
To walk on the water with me.

But, teacher, horns are flashing on (their) helmets.
A black crow is circling above the cross.
Explain to me now, take pity on a fool,
And leave the crucifixion for later.

The Savior was at a loss for words, and angrily stomped
His foot upon the water’s surface:
Truly you are a fool. And Andrew, in tears,
Shuffled off with his tiny fish, headed for home.

Прогулки по воде

С причала рыбачил апостол Андрей,
А Спаситель ходил по воде.
И Андрей доставал из воды пескарей,
А Спаситель погибших людей.

И Андрей закричал: Я покину причал,
Если ты мне откроешь секрет.
И Спаситель ответил: Спокойно, Андрей,
Никакого секрета здесь нет.

Видишь, там на горе возвышается крест,
Под ним десяток солдат. Повиси-ка на нём,
А когда надоест, возвращайся назад
Гулять по воде, гулять по воде,
гулять по воде со мной.

Но, учитель, на касках блистают рога,
Чёрный ворон кружит над крестом.
Объясни мне сейчас, пожалей дурака,
А распятье оставь на потом.

Онемел Спаситель и топнул в сердцах
По водной глади ногой:
Ты и верно дурак. И Андрей в слезах
Побрёл с пескарями домой.

 

Vocab notes

причал: pier, dock • рыбачить И: to fish • апостол: apostle • спаситель, я: savior (from спасать АЙ / спасти С: to save) • ходить Иshift - идти / пойти: to go on foot • вода: water • доставлять АЙ / доставить И: to produce, extract, “get” • пескарь, я: gudgeon, a small fish • погибший: past active adjective from гибнуть (НУ) / погибнуть (НУ): to perish, be lost • человек (pl. люди): human being, person • кричать ЖА / закричать ЖА: to shout / begin to shout • покидать АЙ / покинуть НУ: to abandon, leave behind • открывать АЙ / открыть ОЙstem: to open, reveal • секрет: secret • отвечать АЙ / ответить И: to answer, reply • гора: mountain • возвышаться АЙ / возвыситься И: to be raised, erected; to rise • крест: cross • десяток: a group of ten (used much like the English “dozen”) • солдат: soldier (gen. pl. солдат) • висеть Е: to be in a hanging position • -ка: added to imperatives, lending a somewhat playful and perhaps condescending flavor to the command • надоедать АЙ / надоесть кому: to annoy • возвращаться АЙ / возвратиться Иend: to return • назад: back • гулять АЙ: to stroll • учитель, я: teacher • каска: helmet • блистать АЙ: to shine, flash • рог (pl. рога): horn • ворон: crow • кружить И: to circle • объяснять АЙ / объяснить Иend: to explain • жалеть ЕЙ / пожалеть ЕЙ кого: to take pity on • дурак: fool, idiot • распятье = распятие: crucifixion • оставлять АЙ / оставить И: to leave • неметь ЕЙ / онеметь ЕЙ: to be mute / to become mute • топать АЙ / топнуть НУ: to stomp • в сердцах: angrily • водный: adj. from водагладь, и: a (smooth) surface • нога: leg; foot • верно: indeed, truly • слеза (pl. слёзы): tear (from crying) • бродить Иshift - брести Дend / побрести Д: to roam, wander, shuffle, plod

 
Previous
Previous

Phantoms

Next
Next

Wings