Great Regulars: One could add that [Marina] Tsvetaeva's

last years saw her, for the first time, confronted by personal pain that lay beyond the pale of her idealistic, late-Romantic view of the world. Her greatest poetry--Poem of the End, After Russia--had been inspired by a sense of affront and injustice. But it is one thing to be abject, another to be insignificant, as Tsvetaeva now was, in terms of the self-styled luminaries of Soviet literature. From mythic confessionalism she retreated into dispatches as cryptic as the Morse code tapped out between prison cells: "My loneliness. Dishwater and tears. The underside of everything is terror".

from Powells: Review-A-Day: Coded confessions

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