Levon Shant and Nigol Aghpalian (No. 2/5)

The Unlike Twins 

In this second segment of the abridged translation of the first chapter of Antranig Zarougian’s book titled “The Greats and the Others” (ՄԵԾԵՐԸ ԵՒ ՄԻՒՍՆԵՐԸ», Zarougian reminisces anecdotes about Levon Shant and Nigol Aghpalian. Translated by Vahe H. Apelian. 

 

" Catholicos coadjutor Papken (Gulesserian) had visited Jemaran.  Shant was escorting him. After touring the building , they entered our classroom. Shant presented each one of us to the Catholicos explaining where each one of us came from. The catholicos had words of encouragement to us, noting the orderliness of our classroom, the beautiful building we have and  the good attributes of our principal and his literally fame. He extolled us to live up to the sacrifice being made to educate us.

Shant had the demeanor of a junior officer who reported to his superior and was now attentive to his commendations. His posture was straight, he was polite, and not smiling. As the Catholicos took leave, Shant shook Catholicos’s hand politely, nodded a bit and that was all to it. We had a venerable guest and we politely hosted him and escorted him out.

Coming to Aghpalian,

He held the Catholicos’s right arm firmly with his two hands, and bowed waist down kissing it passionately for a long time with the spiritedness of an ardent believer. The scene and its contrast to Shant’s demeanor had not escaped our attention. We noted his exaggerated bow.

He looked puzzled, opening his eyes wide and moving his eyebrows up and down – a familiar expression of his. He said:

-                " A՜khr,  don’t you understand? He is our only Catholicos. Do you know what does it mean to be a ca-tho-li-cos?"

During the weeks of lent, he wanted us to come down early in the morning and attend mass with him. He adored the mass. We accompanied him several times, but our church attendance did not last, while he continued remaining in the church all alone attending arevakal (mass before the sunrise).

I have not seen Shant in a church, even during Christmas or Easter. Jamaran had already done away with the reciting of “Aravod Louso”  (Hymn for the Morning by St. Nersess Shnorhali) we customarily recited in the other schools.

Aghpalian lived with Krikor Naregatsi. Shant remained faithful to the pagan gods, to his “Hen Asdoutzner” (“Old Gods” the reference alludes to Shant’s famous play Հին Աստուածներ).

***

Vahe Vahian had published his first book of poetry titled “Arev-Antsrev” (“Sun-Rain”, “Արեւ-Անձրեւ”) by the Jemaran’s printing house. It should be noted that Jemaran did not have a printing facility. The books were typeset in Jemaran, a porter carried the type sets elsewhere to have them printed and brought back to Jemaran. The book had seen the light of day in this manner and the author had arrived to carry them.  Of course, he had the first two copies personalized for gifting to Shant and Aghpalian  and two other copies personalized to his brethren of pen Moshegh and Antranig noting “to whom this book owes a lot”. He also had some ten to twenty copies personalized for gifting to others.  Aghpalian seeing me carrying these books thought that I was taking them to a bookseller, he said:

-         “Aha, he has already selling them.”

-        “No”, I said, “these books are gifts and are being taken to the post office.”

He turned towards Vahe Vahian, placed his arm  on his shoulder and said:

-        “Listen, your enemies will not buy your books. You are distributing them as gifts to your friends. Who remain to buy your books?”

***

There were four of us as new poets (one of the four only a novelist). We – Vahe Vahian, Smpat Panossian, Moushegh and your humble servant -  have decided to publish a literary monthly. Our literally heroes – Vazken Shoushanian, Shahnour, Hrach Zartarian, Vorpouny, Nighoghos Sarafian and others – live in Paris. We wanted to show them that we too are also present, and we live in Beirut. The monthly is titled “Hartagogh” (“Milky-Way”, “Յարդագող) and we call ourselves “Hartagoghi Janabahortner” (“Wayfarers of the Milky-Way” - Յարդգողի Ճանապահորդներ).  (Note: alluding to an Armenian pagan tradition that has to do with the pagan god Vahakn). We have no baptismal godfather. We have christened ourselves as such.

I was fated to be the editor because it is I who secured the finances without having money. How come? It was simple. I wrote one or two articles a week and translated novels for “Aztag” Daily. Balian (the publisher) did not give me money but instead had our monthly printed there for free. This way he secured not only my contributions for free but also a literally standing for his paper. Balian was the least literally inclined member of the Armenian press and had nothing to do with literature. As a matter fact not having secured state permission, the monthly was published as the literally supplement of the “Aztag” Daily, although completely independent from it.

The first issue saw the light of day. It was a stunning success. We were proud of ourselves and rightly so. I believe, should we come across a copy of this journal after more than fifty years, we will have no reason to feel ashamed of its literary content. For twenty years old young men, I doubt that we could have had a more honorable undertaking even before us and especially after us. Besides the founding four, there were also articles from others, but we the founders presented our original literary works and we were content with what we had acheived.

I gave a copy to Nigol Aghpalian. He looked at it puzzled and said – “this appears to be a serious literally work”. He flipped the  pages back and forth, analyzed. My impression was that he would like it. There is time to secure his opinion regarding the content; let him read for now. We even were pretentious enough to envision that we may approach him later and secure his contribution for the next issues.  

Approaching Shant was not that easy, but we have devised a way to entice him. Without asking him we had placed inside the cover page an ad with large letters for his Armenian teaching textbooks “Hayreni Ashkharh” (Armenian World). How can an author not be appreciative of our consideration? There is time, let us wait, the opportune time will arrive. Meanwhile we were enjoying our success hearing words of encouragement and felicitation from right and left. 

Well, before publishing the next issue Shant entered the classroom thundering. His facial expression was the worst  he wore. He was frowning, nervous and barely holding his fury. He even forgot his customary “sit down” and kept us standing, rebuked us and left.

-        “ From today and on, it is absolutely forbidden, I repeat, absolutely, that articles appear in the Armenian press bearing your signatures. You are here to become future intellectual leaders, writers, teachers.  But until you graduate from Jemaran it is forbidden for you to write in journals.”

Dry, concise and definite.

As if a phantom had entered the classroom thundered and left.

The blow was directed towards Moushegh and I. There were no other writers in the classroom. The rest might not be even interested. There were some who looked at us smirking pretending that they were sympathizing us, but a hidden envy was palpable. (Note: Antranig Zarougian was later dismissed from Jemaran before his graduation because of his rebellious streak).

We were bewildered. Our bitterness stemmed from the fact that we did not understand what wrong had we done to be subjected to such a humiliation. The reason pretty soon became clear.

One of the girls from the lower class,  Armineh, had written a long poem. This was the theme; the girl has a precious gem hidden deep in her bosom. She throws her heart turned into a gem deep into the sea and wonders who will be the daring diver who will submerge deep into the sea and retrieve her gem for her.

It was an innocent and beautiful presentation and the title of the poem was “Who Will Be?” and the poem had appeared in “Aztag” Daily. There was nothing scandalous per se. But the issue got convoluted because a few days later there appeared a “daring diver” who not only was willing to dive to retrieve the heart but also  dared to share his willingness by a poem titled “I Wil Be”. The poem was published in the same daily under a penname. The assumption was that it was one of the students of Jemaran. Consequently, a boy and a girl were not only not romancing in private but daring to let it be known in the open in the Armenian press. What a scandal it created. Gossips, slanderous remarks, complaints were being heard from everywhere causing much distress to Shant who poured his anger on us, the innocent wayfarers of the milky way, bringing us down onto the earth.

The secret was revealed eventually but very late. It became evident that the chivalrous diver was not from Jemaran but was a medical doctor who loved poetry – Nerses Kupelian. He was a medical student then and later became the husband of Seza (Սեզա) the renown Armenian writer. Let us be mindful that it was over half a century ago when the norms and customs were different. ( Note: Seza, nee Seran Zarifian was born in Constantinople in 1903 was the sister of poet Matheos Zarifian. She passed away in Beirut in 1973). 

***

A dinner dance is organized in Beirut’s only Armenian social hall that was also the A.R.F. community center located in Bab Idriss, on the street behind the café Taneos, in the fish market. Before the music and the dance started a group of comrades, ungers, had arrived from Bourj Hammoud carrying sticks determined to prevent the event. It was Kaspar Ipegian narrating the event giving it a special flavor.  “Boys”, I said, “there is nothing to be ashamed of here. They are our wives and daughters and we are among ourselves, having gathered with our families.”

They answered:

“Unger Ipegian, is this not sacrilegious? Embrace each other and dance under the Tricolor Flag and under the watchful eyes of the A.R.F. Trinity?”. 

“It took me such an effort to convince these admirable boys otherwise and had them leave” said Ipegian, emphasizing on the preservation of our national endemic values.

Poor Ipegian. Had he known the state of our present national endemic values. The only thing that enlivens our social halls nowadays are the dinner dances….. "

Antranig Zarougian

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