For Mister Kessler, Who I Hope is in Heaven

Copperfox

Well-known member
In the course of being a Russian linguist, I made the pen-pal acquaintance of an elderly Red Army veteran from World War Two. He had been saddled at birth with a _female_ first name, "IRMA!"-- because his family had a rigid custom of naming children for dead relatives. At the time of Irma's birth, a deceased aunt/grandmother/whatever named Irma was next in line to be memorialized. ("Boy Named Sue" comes to mind.)

A resident of Odessa, Irma Kessler was drafted for the Great Patriotic War when Hitler invaded the Soviet Union. Starting in the Russian air force. he became infantry by default when his air wing ran out of airplanes; he survived horrid conditions, but was eventually captured by the Nazis. After he was released at war's end, coming home to an impoverished "workers' paradise," he earned money by giving new motorists driving lessons. The Party arrested him for the "crime" of private enterprise-- making him two for two at being jailed by dictatorships. When at last he was _really_ liberated; when the U.S.S.R. was under a _less_ homicidal ruler than Stalin, Irma was free to write autobiographical books from his apartment in Staten Island.

It was a Russian-language newspaper which revealed Irma's existence to me. Upon becoming acquainted, he asked me to translate his writings into English. I never got to meet him in person, but he was pleased with my work. Sadly, Irma died before his personal history could go into full- professional distribution.

In the aftermath of Captain Kessler's passing, _everything_ in my post-retirement life happened: moving to Colorado, performing in the Renaissance festival, adopting Wood Nymph, getting into hard metal music, and other stuff. As a contributing author in the Writing Club, I have several plates spinning; but I hope eventually to pay tribute to Irma Kessler. Preserving voices from history is truly worth doing.

Watch this space.
 
Да упокоится его душа среди святых.

(May his soul rest quietly with the saints)
 
The resident actual Russian linguist assures EveningStar that he did very well translating the above righteous wish. For any picky- picky actual _Russians_ who might see this, "DA" here means not just "yes," but "May it be so."

Oh yes, may it _indeed_ be so. The Apostle Peter assures us that God is not willing for any to perish. The thief on the right-hand cross made it in. I echoed this with a scene in "The Possible Future of Alipang Havens," where the Christian man Rick Pelham assures his former teacher Flora Lewiston that she only needs to _think_ she wants Jesus to forgive her sins, and He will.
 
It appears that almost all of Mister Kessler's writing which is of interest to me is in the book "LIFE IS LOVE." Now I propose to try translating, from a cold start, a poem included in the aforesaid book, without consulting a SLOVAR {=dictionary}. Note that Kessler describes "party line" telephone connection, something which was mostly gone from America at the time he wrote his poem.

"THE TELEPHONE"

The telephone is a great invention; \\ It gives the human race a social life. \\ The white phone on my table \\ Rings its bell many times. \\ I take the receiver with a trembling hand. \\ What is it bringing to me now? \\ "Hello, hello, hello" --a wavering voice. \\ {I} didn't expect it; "Yes, it is I, did you recognize {me}? \\ Yes, everything's all right with me, I'm calm." \\ There's another ring; I pick up the receiver again. \\ I start this conversation with words of love. \\ It is thou and I belonging to each other, \\ Now I can't understand, there's a noisy ring. \\ Sorry, someone else's line is interfering. \\ Why does a second line have to intrude, when the first line is uniting {us}? \\ The second {call} is helping someone with work; \\ {It} obstructs my conversation with my beloved. \\ Thy voice comes through: "I love and miss {you]; I can't {do this}." \\ The second line is parting me from thee. \\ Sad that I can't be face to fact with thee. \\ Still, I'm grateful to the telephone for uniting us at all.
 
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