“This is then the story how the Lenin Song was created, out of the song expropriated from the narodniks, with the common effort of composers, authors, text writers, journalists, and the whole society singing it independently of their conviction. Its microhistory also illustrates how each one contributed, in the measure of their forces, to the creation and maintenance of the regime.”
I’m gathering up Yiddish lint, mostly from my father’s library, but here in the meantime is a wonderful example of musical genealogy; it includes a discussion of David Edelstadt‘s “In Kamf” (“In Struggle”), written in 1889, about seven years after Edelstadt came to the U.S. in the wake of the Kiev pogrom. The poem was composed to the tune of an old worker’s song, putting it in a lineage that extends back to the Russian theme of Beethoven’s Razumovsky string quartets, and forward to Ernst Busch, Shostakovich, and the Hungarian “Lenin-Dal” (“Lenin Song”) of Ernő Rossa and Miklós Szabó. The genealogy (traced out by Poemas del río Wang) is illustrated with recordings — “In Kamf” is represented by a Klezmatics recording from 1994 — and a fine assortment of photographs of Lenin and Lenin kitsch. I borrowed the shoeshine photo because of its resonance with Edelstadt’s story: according to the bio note in Jewish-American Literature, he first came into contact with Russian revolutionaries in his brother’s shoe factory in Kiev; it was probably from them that he learned the tune used for “In Kamf.” In the U.S. he became an anarchist; Emma Goldman described him as “a spiritual petrel whose songs of revolt were beloved by every Yiddish-speaking radical,” “In Kamf” being the best known of those songs.