Old ladies fall from the sky. Masha Rupasova: “I am not afraid of negative feelings either in myself, or in my child, or in poetry”
“I write quickly, having a lot of fun”
Masha, tell us how, as a teacher of Russian language and literature, editor of glossy magazines, you became a children's poet?
Here opinions differ. At first it seemed to me that I started composing because of my little son: he loved poetry, but I was completely dissatisfied with the books I read to him. But now I’m beginning to suspect that I have always been a secret children’s poet, and thanks to the child, the terrible truth came out.
Is it true that the writer Marina Boroditskaya saw your first poems and strongly advised you to continue writing?
Is it true. Under pressure from my husband, I posted a couple of poems on my blog, one of them, very gentle, about poop - this was a hot topic for two-year-old Maxim. Some kind stranger sent this poem to Marina Yakovlevna. And in just a few words she instilled in me the confidence that my poems were really poetry. It was very generous: where is Marina Boroditskaya, and where is the unknown nameless blogger. But then I met Marina Yakovlevna: her leading quality is kindness. And I was infinitely lucky to become one of its recipients.
- Your collection “Old Ladies Fell from the Sky” was released last summer and immediately received many rave reviews. Your poems are compared with the work of Yunna Moritz, with Chukovsky, Barto, Kharms. How does it feel to make your debut and immediately become a “living classic”?
I have no idea what it's like! I still don't really believe that all these reviews apply to me. The poems may be good, but I can’t say that I worked on them, I was exhausted, I ground my teeth, embodying my plans. I write quickly, having a lot of fun, so it seems to me that there is nothing special to praise me for.
By the way, even earlier the book was appreciated by publishers, it was awarded the “Manuscript of the Year” award (Astrel-SPb publishing house) in the “Best Children’s Book” category, in fact, thanks to this, the collection was born. If not for this victory, would there have been a book?
Would be. The manuscript was already being turned into a book and, in the meantime, was participating in an internal publishing competition.
Tell us how this idea for a series of poems about old ladies came about. For some reason I got the idea that from your son’s question about where our grandmother came from...
Old ladies are my pain and my love. I am deeply interested in old age, the "golden age", the processes that turn women into mysterious people called "grandmothers". I think the book was an attempt to answer my own question, which you formulated correctly. Where do they come from, what is the nature of this magic? The interaction between grandmother and grandchildren can become a real fairy tale that will nourish and enrich the grandson throughout his life - I was very lucky in this regard.
Did your vision of the old women and other heroes of the poems coincide with the way the artist Yulia Somina painted them? Is it generally easy for a poet and an artist to interact?
Yulia is very easy to work with, she is an experienced illustrator and was ready to listen to me. Another thing is that I was mostly worried, throwing up my hands, muttering helplessly, or sending her long, flowery metaphors. Mutual understanding quickly emerged between us, but this, of course, was thanks to Yulina’s willingness to understand.
- Do you have a favorite poem from this collection? And does your opinion coincide with the opinion of your son?
My son loves “Old Woman’s Fall,” and I remember that I wrote it in the evening: before going to bed, we had a pillow fight, I first came up with “Pillowfall,” but it immediately transformed into “Old Lady’s Fall,” and Maksik fell asleep, and I quickly wrote down the poem.
And I love the poem about “Seagull, Extraordinary”, because at that time I was greatly impressed by the deserted winter beaches and I am glad that this impression took shape in the right words and became a poem. Now it is fixed.
“Let all the ladies, regardless of weight, be happy”
I'm expecting a new book in May-April. It's mainly about a kindergarten, not magical at all. That is, there are no fairy-tale miracles in it, but there are everyday, everyday miracles: you’re sour in kindergarten - and suddenly, hurray, mom and dad come for you, together, what happiness! It’s such happiness that you tear off the curtain from an excess of feelings with all the ensuing consequences.
I wrote it quickly, because all my kindergarten impressions were comprehended thirty years ago - just become a poet, take it and write it down.
SNOW EATERS
Our gardening group
Received
Very
Stupid:
All fifteen people
On a walk
Ate
Snow.And I
Not at all stupid
But I did
I'm stupid
And to snow eating
Joined
For company.
I even plopped down
Into the snowdrift
Swallow more so.So!
The teacher said. -
I'll be with you
Scolder.
For now, for now
I'm going blind
Snowman.
A snowman is not just snow.
He's almost
Human.
So, damn it, don’t eat it!We are in response
Said:
- Eat!
We are no longer snowmobilers,
Will wait
Lunch.SELF-SUGGESTION
This is a closet.
And in it is a coat,
And absolutely no one in a coat.
And they don't move
Two
Sleeves.
His sleeves
Empty
The gate is full
Emptiness,
And also -
At the gate -
The button has been removed.
And no one, no one, no one
Not sitting
Inside
Coat.
- And you also write fairy tales. Will readers have a chance to see your book in prose?
This is interesting to me myself. So far, my editor-in-chief, Alexander Prokopovich, approves of all my initiatives. But he doesn’t know about fairy tales yet.
- And finally, can you read something fresh?
Can! Yesterday at three o'clock in the morning I wrote a poem about an auntie who travels by train, eats buns, reads - and is happy. I thought: leave me alone with your idiotic canons of beauty, let all the ladies, regardless of weight, be happy. And let the main thing for kids be a feeling of happiness, and not compliance with some stupid standards.
ABOUT HAPPINESS
Aunty -
Lush,
Like a bouquet -
Warm donuts
I put it in a bag,Got on the train.
And there, by the window
Pyshek with conscience
She ate.Donut
For mom
And a donut for dad.
Donut for every cat
Paw.
Donut for a mouse
In the attic,
Donut for a book
In the left hand.Greenery outside
She was shining
Tekla,
The day consisted of food and warmth.
Coming out
At the station
Little,
Ivova,
Aunty
All of a sudden
She turned out to be happy.
Series Manyunya and other AST, 2015
Mashmna's poems are wonderful! they are rhythmic, catchy and fun!
Be sure to read this book to your children!
Masha Rupasova lives in Vancouver. By her own admission, she began writing poems for children when she became a mother: “It’s interesting that motherhood not only makes you more mature and serious, but also takes you back to your roots, to the distant 80s, to such warm, bright times, when everyone is still alive , and my parents haven’t divorced yet, and the worst thing in the world is a broken knee. For me, motherhood turned out to be a portal to the best sunny memories - about the village, about the summer that never ends, about my grandmother, about the river near which four generations of our family grew up.”
On the advice of her husband, Masha began to write down what she had written and then post it on Facebook. https://m.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100001377663057, where her work quickly won the hearts of numerous readers.
The collection of poems “Old Women Were Falling from the Sky,” Masha’s first book, was awarded the “Manuscript of the Year” award in the “Best Children’s Book” category.
from Facebook: Masha Rupasova
And I had my doubts about the second book. (Crying again; everyone is bored). She turned out to be childishly stupid and cheerful - as, in fact, it was intended, but for some reason this causeless fun was annoying.
Then I added sadness to the book, and immediately fell in love with it, and with a pure heart I sent it to the editor-in-chief. I added these four. Is it okay if the children are afraid and sad a little? Still, they shouldn’t laugh.
SCARY
This is a closet.
And in it is a coat,
And absolutely no one in a coat.
And they don't move
Two
Sleeves.
His sleeves
Empty
The gate is full
Emptiness,
And also -
At the gate -
The button has been removed.
And no one, no one, no one
Not sitting
Inside
Coat.
CREATURE
Kiss the creature!
You will love it.
He has four legs
Head and nothing.
Hold the baby!
We won't be allowed to
And you, it seems,
Same
Restless soul.
Why
AND
From what
Someone abandoned the creature?
Don't be afraid and pet it.
you will love
His.
IT'S TIME FOR THE CAT
Our old cat
Lost
Appetite.
Mom thinks
What a cat
This night
It will fly away.
Very old cats
Not afraid of heights
And they fly
Above the sky,
Fluffing your tails.
The sun warms their sides,
Pouring milk
And cats have featherbeds -
Golden clouds.
Cats are happy in the sky.
Cats are happy in the sky.
Our cat, wait a minute,
And stay another half a day.
Look at this
Look at this
Look at me.
I am a cat lover, the poem about a cat turned out to be very touching
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It seems to me that children's poetry is much closer to our roots. It’s like an ancient howl around a fire, pre-speech muttering, humming, the rhythms to which our ancestors swayed in the cave. The child mentally “winds up” around this rhythm. At this age, poetry is very important.
They say,
They say
Many years ago
fell from the sky
old ladies!
It was an old woman's fall.Landed
Light,
Asterisk only
In hand.
Just a star and a gingerbread
Only roses on a scarf<…>."They say". “Old ladies fell from the sky” (2015).
Masha Rupasova lives in Canada, she is a former beauty blogger, the author of two poetic children's books (“Old Ladies Fell from the Sky” and “Everyone in the Garden!”) and the adoptive mother of a little boy. As a child, I loved Mayne Reid, Astrid Lindgren, Alexandra Brushtein, and adults read poetry. He loves to read Kharms with his son Max.
‒ When Max was little, children's poems really annoyed me. It seemed to sound wrong and not at all about what I wanted to tell him. This is probably why I started writing myself. And Kharms was as close as possible to the desired intonation. We bought all of Kharms, including a wonderful edition with illustrations by Igor Oleinikov. Slowly we began to collect a good poetry library. And finally I found poets that I like: Mikhail Yasnov, Marina Boroditskaya, Nastya Orlova, Yulia Simbirskaya, Dasha Gerasimova. We also read the classics, starting with Pushkin and ending with Mikhalkov and Marshak, but Kharms is the main thing.
Masha writes children's poems not only for little ones. She also thinks about the adults who will find in her books empathy for the hard work of being parents. And Masha is not afraid to talk to readers about difficult things.
Our old cat
Lost
Appetite.
Mom thinks
What a cat
This night
It will fly away.
Very old cats
Not afraid of heights
And they fly
Above the sky,
Fluffing your tails.
The sun warms their sides,
Pouring milk
And cats have featherbeds -
Golden clouds.
Cats are happy in the sky.
Cats are happy in the sky.
Our cat, wait a minute,
And stay another half a day.
Look at this
Look at this
Look at me.“It’s time for the cat.”
Masha Rupasova’s poems are light, melodic, and flow like a river. The influence of her favorite adult poets is noticeable. And the humor in them is childish, pun-like, similar to children’s babble through laughter: “What are you cooking, Crow? “I’m preparing pasta, so that I can make a Wonderful Nest out of them!”
I often laugh at
- Masha, do you remember the books you loved as a child?
‒ My reading experience began in the 80s and my favorites were probably the traditional ones for a Soviet child: “The Road Goes Away” by Alexandra Brushtein, “Dinka” by Oseeva, “Vasek Trubachev and His Comrades.” Loved Seton-Thompson, Fenimore Cooper, Mine Reid. I liked Darrell and James Herriot. I was and remain a big fan of Astrid Lindgren, especially Pippi Longstocking and Carlson. I took the book about Carlson with me when moving to Canada, although we had colossal weight restrictions. In addition to “Carlson,” Brustein’s book also flew away with me.
- What about poetry?
- For some reason, I mostly read poetry to adults. She loved Pushkin very much, at the age of eleven she learned all of Onegin and Poltava for her own pleasure. I don’t remember children’s poems making an impression on me.
- Do you read poetry with your son?
- Yes, Max and I read quite a lot of poetry. We started with Kharms.
- From Kharms?
‒ When Max was little, children's poems really annoyed me. It seemed to sound wrong and not at all about what I wanted to tell him. This is probably why I started writing myself. And Kharms was as close as possible to the desired intonation. We bought all of Kharms, including a wonderful edition with illustrations by Igor Oleinikov. Slowly we began to collect a good poetry library. And finally I found poets that I like: Mikhail Yasnov, Marina Boroditskaya, Nastya Orlova, Yulia Simbirskaya, Dasha Gerasimova. We also read the classics, starting with Pushkin and ending with Mikhalkov and Marshak, but Kharms is the main thing.
-What did you want to talk about with your son using poetry?
- Now I understand that I wanted to talk about myself. But for some reason little was written about me. The soul did not even accept lullabies. That's why I started with lullabies and jokes. And then I accidentally started writing poetry. I wanted to tell him everything that mothers tell their children, but in my own words.
- Your words resonated with many other families.
‒ I think because these are universal things: I love you, I accept you with all your snot and scandals ( laughs). I wrote the first lullaby - about rooks - when we had not yet taken Maxim from the orphanage, but I already knew for sure that it would be him. He still turns to this lullaby in moments of spiritual adversity. Apparently, this is a lullaby for a big turning point in his life, a song of reassurance.
- A very beautiful story.
‒ Yes, it sounds like a beautiful story, but then it looked so natural! Well, if you take a child, many people adopt. You mumble something - all mothers come up with some kind of songs. And in the end, this resulted in a new occupation, a life’s work, which I now won’t give up for any price. This is great fun!
- This first lullaby has not yet been published?
- No, not published. I just can’t decide on this, it’s very intimate and somehow too warm. This is between mother and child. Even my husband didn't hear the whole thing.
- Some of your poems, in my opinion, were written to support your mother. How did they help you?
- Motherhood is not very easy for me. I need a lot of free time and solitude, which is impossible with a child. If you push him onto the nanny, instead of loneliness you get a feeling of guilt, and your free time becomes very unproductive. This is an endless battle with yourself. You can take a break from this battle if you look at the situation from the outside: here you are, a lathered mother, thinking that your child will always be three years old, he will always yell, spit and refuse everything, there will be nothing to talk to him about. But if you manage to see the comedy, and most importantly, the fleeting nature of what is happening, it becomes easier. When you make a story or an anecdote out of your life, it is easier to survive the crisis of three, four, five years. I don’t know if poetry will help in adolescence, but for now it helps.
Perhaps they also help because mothers understand: they are not alone in this nightmare ( laughs). Not only do cars endlessly roll over them, not only do their children roar, buzz and squeak, pretending to be some kind of combine harvester. In fact, this is a common story, we are all in the same boat.
Who are your poems addressed to - children or adults? And is it important to differentiate this when it comes to young children?
‒ I read any poetry to Max, including modern poetry from thick magazines. Therefore, I’m not sure that it is necessary to distinguish for whom the poems were written. Of course, reading illustrated books with recognizable plots and simple images is not bad. But I like this “shame” in the evening by the crib, when I read to the child Tsvetkov, Kvadratov, Gandlevsky. He, of course, does not understand what these poems are about, but I think he catches something subtle.
- Do you discuss incomprehensible moments with him?
- It’s difficult to discuss with him yet. He is a non-contemplative child. He may ask a question, but is quickly distracted. I think we are now in a period of accumulating poetic capital. He remembers a lot. One day I told him, “Maxon, I miss my grandma so much. What should I do?" And he says: “Bake some pies.” Then I realized that he was quoting my poem: “It’s grandma who is bored and bakes pancakes.” And he suggested that, as in this poem, I should launch pies into the sky.
- What is poetic capital needed for?
- In order to become human. This is emotional nutrition, something to which the child will join from an adult state and live from it. It will have an extra edge. Even if he doesn't read at all. There will be something magical inside him. Like a hiding place.
- Can prose do this?
- I don’t think that prose at an early age can have the same impact on a child as poetry.
- Why?
‒ Probably this is the poetic arrogance speaking in me ( laughs). It seems to me that children's poetry is much closer to our origins. It’s like an ancient howl around a fire, pre-speech muttering, humming, the rhythms to which our ancestors swayed in the cave. The child mentally “winds up” around this rhythm. At this age, poetry is very important.
I know that you pay great attention to the artwork in your books. What is important to you in illustration?
‒ My poetic career has just begun, and for me, as a beginner, it is important that the illustration does not compete with the text. And it wasn't too abstract. I'm not sure that my poems are simple enough to supplement them with abstractions. For now, I believe that the artist and I should be a team that works for me and my text ( laughs). With Yulia Somina, who illustrated my first book (“Old ladies fell from the sky” - approx. edit.), and Agata Harutyunyan (author of illustrations for the collection “Everyone in the Garden!” - approx. edit.) we found, if not a common language, then one that suited me. Although in the third book, which we are currently preparing (“The Moon Walked Through the City” - approx. ed.), the illustrations are already more abstract. When I saw a test drawing, which was not very substantive and did not clearly reflect the poem, I agreed. I liked the style.
Masha, you are not afraid to be sad in poems for little ones. I know that you even have plans to collect your “sad and angry,” as you call them, poems in one book. Why is this important to you? After all, it is believed that poems for kids should be funny?
- Probably, the “legalization” of sadness and anger occurred because I saw how it works in the example of a living child. Of course, it is unpleasant to experience a child’s sadness, and it is especially unpleasant when he is nasty, angry and says that he doesn’t love anyone and will leave us altogether. But if you let these feelings pour out, spend some time accepting them, they will go away quickly and without a trace. It's the same in poetry. For example, my poem is about a cat that is dying (“It’s time for the cat” - approx. ed.) is a reason to discuss this sadness. I am not afraid of negative feelings either in myself, or in my child, or in poetry. I find it very therapeutic.
But I still doubt whether it is possible to write, for example, about parents’ quarrels, although I would like to touch on this topic. I wrote a couple of poems about it, but put it aside for now.
- So, for you there are topics that are best avoided?
‒ I wouldn’t mind Maxim reading such poems. But I'm not sure if other parents will agree to raise this topic. Imagine a mother reading to a seven-year-old child: “Mom and dad are quarreling, the quarrel pierces the heart.” The child will perceive this normally, this is a reflection of his feelings - he is scared and he hopes that mom and dad will make peace. But I'm afraid of hurting my mother. I don't want anyone to feel guilty about a fight.
- It turns out that poems for children should take into account the perception of both - the adult and the child? - Mom definitely needs to be taken into account. I probably need to come up with a positive ending, but I can’t yet. My husband and I hardly quarrel, so it’s difficult for me to develop this topic.
- So you respond to difficult life situations with poetry?
- Yes, poems are based either on a situation or an emotion associated with a situation. I came up with the poem “I Loved a Sturgeon and Was His Sister” while Max and I were standing in a grocery store and staring at live fish in an aquarium. I felt terribly sorry for the sturgeons, I felt like they were a relative. This is probably how everyone writes it. You just take material from everywhere.
- You have been living in Canada for three years. How do you feel at the crossroads of cultures? Has this affected your poetry?
- So far it has not had any effect. I wrote one poem about something Canadian, about the ocean shore - “Kulichiki”. Everything else is exclusively Russian experience. I have the feeling that after moving to Canada, my connection with Russia began to grow stronger. The “umbilical cord” has become larger and is pulsating more and more. So for now I’m doing my best to sabotage the growing into Canadian culture ( laughs).
In the collection “Old Ladies Fell from the Sky” you “explore” the theme of old age. Your poems help me accept the aging of loved ones. And you?
“For me, this is also an attempt to accept the aging of loved ones, to come to terms with what has already happened. Both my grandmothers died. One of them, whom I loved very much and with whom my childhood was connected, passed away difficultly for several years. She had dementia, which terribly traumatized our family. Probably, the poems and the book of prose about old women, which I am currently writing in collaboration with my friend, are an attempt to overcome this experience. But I'm not sure that the attempt will be successful. It is probably easier to come to terms with death than with such a gradual departure and such a terrible change that this disease brings.
But I'm not only sad about it. What interests me about grandmothers is the transformation of an ordinary person into a “magical” one. At some point, the woman suddenly becomes a wizard for her grandson. Even if she was not a wizard for her child, she has a great chance with her grandson. I see how my mother gets along with Maxim, and I understand that she is becoming a magical grandmother for him. But how this happens and why, I don’t know. I'm not sure if this transformation was reflected in my children's poems. For now, I console myself with the fact that old women fall from the sky, but maybe I will find out the answer to this question when my co-author and I finish an adult book about our grandmothers. So the “research” does not stop for a second.
The conversation was moderated by Daria Dotsuk
Photo by Daria Dotsuk
The four books are a kind of collected works. A source of pure pleasure. More precisely, four sources. Each book is a completely independent work, it has its own title, theme, and cross-cutting characters. And even illustrations for each volume of this “collected works” were made by different artists. But for all their self-sufficiency, these books are also closely related to each other. They are like steps along which we climb to the child. Or together with him. And we look out the window and see the sky, the sun, the clouds. And we feel good together.
Little man
Look out the window!
Look,
What is -
There's blue above the houses!
Sineva -
tall,
There are clouds in the blue.
Clouds are good!
Wave your hand at them!
This poem is included in the collection “Mom’s Little Man Is Riding,” which is dedicated to the first year of life. It’s hardly worth talking about babies as the “target audience,” but these poems “hit” the mothers of babies very accurately.
They don’t dress well...
Give me better
Zaoru.
When a baby appeared in our house, the older children often asked: “Why is he crying?” Unfortunately, I didn't know the answer. Well, he cries... All babies cry. Now the elders don’t ask, they answer themselves - in the poems of Masha Rupasova.
Oh, trouble, trouble, trouble:
In the world
It's over
Food!
They don't give milk
Not a sip.
Not a sip!
Some poems are written on behalf of the mother, some on behalf of the baby. And if a child-reader can still imagine himself in the place of a mother, then in the place of a baby - it’s unlikely. Parents often tell their children about how they were little, but this is always like an “outside view.” And these poems help children 4, 5, 6, 10, 12 years old - yes, in general, of any age - to at least roughly imagine what a baby might say. This screaming and crowing creature suddenly finds its own voice.
I love you,
Food!
Stay forever!
I'll fall asleep - and you sit.
Do not go anywhere!
And you will see
What's in a dream
I dreamed about you again.
I want to quote poems about babies endlessly. But babies grow up very quickly, and many of them go to kindergarten. Masha Rupasova’s “Sadikovsky” poems are collected in the book “Not Children, but Elephants, or Everyone to the Garden!” Life here is completely different: teachers are making snowmen, nannies are putting the group to bed for a quiet hour, Nastya and Roma’s legs are talking and swinging on a swing, “races” are rushing to victory with a terrible roar (for mothers of girls, let’s explain that “races” are boys’ racing cars ). Moms and dads, of course, are also in this book, but the main role in the “kindergarten poems” is played by peers, the street, cars, cats, socks, and closets. The same objective world that is most interesting to children aged 3–7 years.
What's good about the machine?
Sings from her
Soul.
I hold it with my hand
And I ride every day
So-and-so,
In an arc
And on my mother’s leg.
Maria Yakushina’s watercolor illustrations for “Mama’s Little Man” are filled with tenderness and blue. There is nothing superfluous in them; people are drawn quite abstractly. Well, it’s true: all happy mothers are alike, all beloved babies look about the same.
Pencil drawings for the book “Not children, but elephants, or Everyone to the garden!” made by Agata Harutyunyan. And they are completely different. Each of the numerous children of one kindergarten group has its own character, they are easy to recognize on different pages. And all items are unique and inimitable, and all toys exist in a single copy. Everything is for real.
The poems collected in the book “Old Ladies Fell from the Sky” are dedicated to the family life of a preschooler and a junior schoolchild. There are no teachers, no friends, and there are very few toys here. But in these poems there live soups and cucumbers, rain and crows, old dachas...
If jam is being made,
So, everything is in order in the world:
Sky,
Nanny,
Mood,
Garden
And a scooter.
The jam gurgles quietly,
So the world will be sweet,
So, in a saucer
With jam
We will
Crust
Dunk.
These are poems about grandmothers. And even great-grandmothers. It is on them that order in the world is maintained: “Grandmothers live with us, rock little children, sing moon songs.”
Order is the main theme of the fourth book, “Luna Walked Through the City.” This is not the order in the nursery, when toys are in the corners, the dress is folded on a high chair, and the slippers are neatly placed by the bed. This is the Order that is the Cosmos, the ordered Universe, the opposite of chaos. The order in which “this boy is already sleeping in warm pajamas with pink lions on such and such a floor.” In this well-ordered, harmonious and affectionate world, the moon snail shines so that the planet does not go astray. Here, on the grandmother’s head, there is a forest with a fox and an owl, and above it is the sky. And the Elephant and the Moon tenderly look at each other and breathe in the void.
Irina Galkina, the artist of the book “The Moon Walked Through the City,” and Yulia Somina, whose illustrations we see on the pages of the book about old women, paint this ordered world in completely different ways. But every time with great love. Their pictures give the reader enormous scope for imagination, completion, and play with verbal images.
And the happiness, love, tenderness, joy that these lines are filled with will certainly infect children. Empathy, phonemic hearing, and a sense of rhythm will certainly be added to them.
Anna Rapoport