ABSTRACT

While it is quite likely that Neris turned to the left at least partially out of contempt for what she thought was the Philistine, mindless life of the bourgeoisie, it could also be that the horrors of Stalin's regime did reach her attention to some extent, but it was too late; she had allowed herself to be trapped in an ideological dead-end, with capitalist greed, fascist insanity, and Russia's monumental inhumanity blocking every exit. All she had left was the Soviet war machine-she was now part of it, was functioning as one of its cogs, in effect independently, of her own will. Only the searing yearning for her homeland, boundless love, and desperate burden of dispossession shines through her later, politically committed poetry to sustain in her readers that strange enchantment they had always felt toward her verse. Even stylistically, the harsh and often wooden verbal structures of Bolshevik rhetoric seems mixed in a peculiar, elusive way with passages of the previous graceful, luminous beauty, so full of love for the native land.