Today was the funeral and the funeral of my close friend, philosopher, historian, poet, writer Vladimir I. Karpets. He died on 27 January 2017. About dead or good or anything. In the case of Vladimir Karpets is simply: you can speak well, without fear to sin against the truth.
I knew him for many years, worked, talked, walked the same common faith parish. But did I know him? And do we know ourselves? Did he know himself? This is a difficult question. Vladimir Karpets was a very difficult man, there was a lot of measurements, and it is wonderful – there is nothing more dreary, one-dimensional people. They are even the highest truth can turn into banality. Vladimir Karpets was their direct opposite.He saw metaphysics where it seemingly can not be – in casual conversation in a suburban train, collecting mushrooms, moving shadows, accidentally thrown phrase of someone else’s conversation… These people lately almost not born. All fairly simple, or frankly stupid, and it’s boring…. Karpets was difficult and stupid. He was a real. What are supposed to be human. And this is, perhaps, most importantly, the ranks and merits, not the number of born and raised children, or even written books.We need to spend our allotted time in a human being fully, in all directions, with no fear… And Vladimir I. did. Not paying attention to how it looks and what happens. The performance was not his value. He lived a life with interest and surprise.
Hard and vigorous life of the intellectual, the poet, the contemplative. He lived a free man. Vladimir I. Karpets. And a free man he died.
Heidegger said: people die at exactly the moment when life ceases to be surprising. It is a free decision – to be or not to be. It takes the soul. And if nothing more amazing, the soul closes his eyes, starting to look only inward. And then she forgets about the body. And the body forgets about the heartbeat and the breath. Comes the calm and cold. The soul, spread its wings, goes on his first flight. To the immortal sun of the spirit. At least, this happens in people, who during his life the soul of serious attention. Vladimir I. Karpets was.He learned to fly. Continuously, persistently, frantically. The body he was hurt. Now he’s finally free.
Vladimir Karpets was a convinced Russian patriot. Orthodox fundamentalist, monarchist, supporter of the Empire. For him, as for all those I consider my friends, the Crimea was our always – long before 2014. And has always been our Novorossiya, was and will be. We with Vladimir Igorevich was a common passion – the Empire as the ultimate expression of the Russian Order.
But never Vladimir Igorevich was not trivial. This means, he was able to get to another point of view on the other side of himself. He clear was the deep paradox of thought, always embodying his own shadow. In Russian history, which was for Vladimir Karpets his life, he also saw the stress and the faults that merge
and tears. As a supporter of pure spirit, Russian, deep national spirit, he never doubted the apotheosis of a strong power, powerful invincible Russian Empire.
But here in front of me last poems of Vladimir Karpets, written shortly before his death. These poems are written like already at the gates, already inside of death, and not just on her doorstep…
Are we really to go through it
And we stand at the gate trevogo of Constantinople ?
Ships, planes… Crown away…
But the Volga once said, “don’t”
“We don’t need their Bank. He hazy. There is the end”.
So rekli Capito and vavila Sapkowski,
And the Forester Muravitskii, Fyodor-the eunuch,
And Soviet poet Mikhail Isakovsky.
But the power when she holds the reins of the saints,
Anyway, whatever it was – up to the star,
To the last of Rome.
But somewhere along the Causeway walks a old man
Brewing from there a wave of Constantinople…
And hear – pridaje in the moss on the flank
And the head shakes : “No”
So from age to age, unto all the ages-century
Faith with the truth Prue started…
Only where is she, faith, where truth hand ?
Death only knows and also hardly.
From a man madly, passionately, fiercely loving Empire is a quiet predsmertnoe-postmortem “need Not” worth it….
All the best, have you watched the program “Directive Dugin” about the death of a wonderful man right – one of the last –Vladimir I. Karpets.
Eternal memory to him.
See the archive transmission – http://tsargrad.tv