#czars

Image: Alexander Pushkin, circa 1830. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

Alexander Pushkin was a Russian poet, novelist and playwright. He died on this day (Feb. 10) in 1837 due to injuries sustained during a duel. “A DUEL?!” you ask? “A DUEL,” I answer. YOU GUYS this is the best story so let’s do this:

Pushkin wrote during Czar Nicholas I’s reign, in the 1800s. Early in his career, his poems were considered anarchic by the Russian government. So now our guy is being watched pretty carefully by the government and has to abide by strict censorship rules. He also spent a long vacation (that’s my euphemism for exile) away from St. Petersburg.

Now the plot thickens. Alexander meets the hottest thing in Russia since sliced bread, which, for the record, was not a thing until about 100 years later in 1928. Natalya Goncharova was a beauty by all accounts and caught everyone’s attention as soon as she walked in the room. Pushkin proposed to the young Goncharova and she said yes (after checking with the czar that the poet was not, in fact, going to be exiled again).

So, like I said, Goncharova was very popular in the Russian court. A French refugee named Georges D'Anthès was especially interested in Goncharova and flirted with her, a married woman, constantly in public. The court was afire with rumors and an anonymous letter was published accusing Pushkin of not being able to hold onto his woman. Naturally, the poet was upset -- his honor and manhood (heaven forbid) had been challenged. So he challenged D’Anthes to a duel to restore his image (well, technically he challenged D’Anthes’ adopted father, but Pushkin knew the dad was too old to duel, talk about shady). The poet managed to wound his opponent, but D’Anthes did one better: He shot Pushkin in the stomach.  

The poet died two days later. As for D’Anthes? He died an old man, claiming to his closest friends that he regretted never getting to be with his one true love, Natalya Goncharova.  

Do despots notice the starsburning beyond their wars? Do they look upfrom the maps in their hands The unconquered lands Long enough to wonder why long enough to seehow small a crown isbeneath the sky? Above the hubris of czarsForever shine the glorious stars Empires falllike autumn leaves.Crowns grow cold. Cold. How small a crown is beneath the sky.