From The Demon to the Secret Voice: Archetypal Echoes and Oral Culture in 19th Century Romantic Poetry

Abstract

The first half of the 19th century witnessed the rise of Romantic poetry, which focused in depth on individual consciousness, inner worlds, and metaphysical inquiries. This poetic orientation became particularly evident in works centred on themes such as solitude, alienation, and existential quests. Within this context, the present study aims to examine the archetypal and poetic resonances of the poetic voice in Mihail Lermontov’s poem The Demon, based on its sixth and final version dated 1841, in relation to Nikoloz Baratashvili’s poem Secret Voice. Lermontov’s poem is analyzed through the English translation by Charles Johnston, published in 1983, while Baratashvili’s poem is discussed based on the 24-line version included in the fifth edition (1895) of the anthology Poems and Letters (Leksebi da Tserilebi). This study explores the thematic and structural similarities between the two poems within the framework of comparative literature and psychoanalytic criticism, focusing on Romantic archetypes, the uncanny, the shadow figure, and ontological solitude. Furthermore, the dialogue established between Lermontov’s demonic narrator and Baratashvili’s introspective poetic voice reopens discussions on the boundaries of cultural memory, oral narrative patterns, and poetic identity. Ultimately, this comparative analysis reveals the implicit influences of The Demon on Georgian poetry and discusses the intercultural resonances of themes such as voice, self, and archetype in Romantic poetry.

1. Introduction

Nineteenth-century Romantic poetry, beyond being merely an aesthetic expression of individual emotions and imagination, served as a poetic reconstruction of national identity, historical traumas, and the collective unconscious. Particularly in Europe’s border regions, Romanticism became more than an artistic inclination; it emerged as an expression of cultural resistance, the search for identity, and metaphysical questioning. Within this framework, Georgian literature presents a unique literary space that merges poetic memory shaped by oral tradition with the narrative structures of the modern era. One of the earliest and most compelling examples of this poetic transformation is Secret Voice, a poem written in 1836 by Nikoloz Baratashvili, a leading poet of nineteenth-century Georgian literature. This poem, combining narrative structures derived from oral tradition with the voice of the individual unconscious, presents an inward inquiry into identity within a poetic order woven with metaphysical and psychological themes.

The Demon, one of the foundational works of Russian Romanticism, was first drafted by Lermontov in 1829, yet due to censorship barriers and numerous revisions, it was not completed until 1839. The final version, dated 1841, reconfigures the demonic figure not merely as a rebellious being but also as a poetic subject infused with metaphysical reflection and existential solitude.

This study proposes that Baratashvili’s Secret Voice carries traces of influence from Lermontov’s The Demon. Particularly, the themes of existential solitude, love, and rebellion of the demonic character, as well as the introspective nature of the poetic “voice”, appear to be reimagined in Secret Voice. However, the elements of oral culture, folk narrative structures, and collective consciousness that come to the fore in Baratashvili’s poem reposition this influence not merely within the bounds of imitation but as an expression of local poetic originality. This approach, grounded in intertextuality theory (Kristeva 1980; Bakhtin 1981), suggests both a one-way influence and a mutual literary dialogue.

In the context of Western European Romanticism, psychological depth in poetry has often been discussed through works such as Goethe’s Faust or Byron’s Manfred (Filina 2017). By contrast, the interaction between oral tradition and psychological poetics in the Caucasian context and its contribution to modern poetry have not been sufficiently explored in academic literature. This study analyzes the cultural and thematic parallels between Russian and Georgian Romantic poetry not only at the aesthetic level but also across layers of representation, consciousness, and resistance. In doing so, it opens a discussion of the multifaceted network of relationships between Russian and Georgian Romanticism and their roles in the evolution of psychological poetics. Focusing particularly on the sixth and canonical version of The Demon, this analysis aims to fill a significant gap in the literature by examining the poem’s resonances in Georgian poetry. This study seeks to offer an interdisciplinary contribution in the context of cultural transmission, archetypal representation, and the transformation of the poetic “voice” in Romantic poetry.

2. Theoretical Framework

The primary literary sources of this study are the final version of Lermontov’s The Demon and its 30-line English translation by Charles Johnston, published in 1983. The sixth and final version of The Demon (1838) was selected for its deeper treatment of metaphysical solitude and ontological crisis, and is widely considered the canonical version. Although the interpretation is informed by the original Russian text, the English translation by Charles Johnston (Pushkin and Lermontov 1983) is used throughout the article to maintain accessibility for an international readership and to ensure consistency in citation. The primary aim of this research is to examine how the poetic voice in The Demon text is transformed and echoed—on an archetypal and poetic level— in Baratashvili’s poem Secret Voice. The latter, included in the 24-line version found in the fifth edition of the anthology Poems and Letters (Leksebi da Tserilebi), published in 1895, exemplifies the metaphysical tendencies of Georgian Romanticism.

The theoretical framework of the study is grounded in oral tradition theory (Ong 1982; Finnegan 1977), archetypal criticism, intertextuality theory (Kristeva 1980; Bakhtin 1981), and postcolonial literary theory (Said 1978; Bhabha 1994). In particular, Julia Kristeva’s theory of intertextuality—which posits that every text carries traces of other texts and is constructed within a discursive network—forms the central analytical tool. This theoretical perspective complements Bakhtin’s (1981) notions of dialogism and polyphony. Within this context, the poetic dialogues between The Demon and the Georgian literary tradition are understood not as imitative repetitions but as expressions of a deeper cultural and poetic consciousness.

Due to the layered nature of the poetic structures analyzed—spanning psychological, cultural, and metaphysical dimensions—an integrative methodological approach was adopted, combining archetypal criticism, intertextuality, postcolonial theory, and oral tradition analysis.

This pluralistic approach allows for a more nuanced comparative reading of The Demon and Secret Voice, focusing on the symbolic and structural layers of voice, identity, and poetic memory. Frye’s romantic mode provides a narrative typology of descent and rebirth, which helps trace mythic transformations in both poems (Frye 1957, pp. 186–2026).

2.1. Intertextuality and Romantic Dialogue

In both Russian and Georgian Romanticism, figures such as demons, angels, and invisible voices are not simply allegorical—they function as carriers of cultural memory and inner fragmentation. As Mircea Eliade (1957, pp. 20–22, 69–73) notes, such mythic figures often appear at liminal thresholds between the sacred and the profane, marking a crisis of being. This mythic resonance forms the basis for the dialogic relationship between Lermontov’s The Demon and Baratashvili’s Secret Voice.

Rather than tracing direct influence, this relationship may be understood through Julia Kristeva’s theory of intertextuality, which posits that all texts are shaped by an ongoing interplay of earlier voices (Kristeva 1980, pp. 65–68). The Demon and Secret Voice share recurring motifs—exile, inner voice, metaphysical longing—not as imitations but as echoes across cultural traditions. For instance, both poems open with an evocation of a haunting voice that cannot be fully located or understood:

“Я тoт, чей взoр лишает надежды…”

(I am the one whose gaze destroys hope…)—Lermontov

“უძიე, უძაო, შენ მსვედრი შენი…”

(The secret voice I always hear…)—Baratashvili

In Mikhail Bakhtin’s terms, this constitutes not a singular narrative voice but a polyphonic dialogue. The poems do not merely reflect solitary lamentation; they interact with a chorus of spiritual, cultural, and unconscious resonances. While The Demon expresses existential rebellion and tragic separation from divinity, Secret Voice reconfigures this rebellion through silence and metaphysical ambiguity, rooted in Georgian oral and religious tradition.

Thus, The Demon and Secret Voice are not linked by linear inheritance, but by a shared archetypal dialogue that traverses language, genre, and cultural space—revealing how Romantic poetics sustains and transforms inherited images through polyphonic voice and intertextual resonance.

2.2. Intertextual and Archetypal Framework

Carl Jung’s concept of the shadow archetype refers to the unconscious dimension of the self that houses repressed desires, fears, and contradictions (Jung [1959] 1968, pp. 143–46). In The Demon, this shadow takes the form of the demonic figure—exiled from divine order, yet burdened by longing and memory:

Original (Russian):

“Я жажду любви, я прoщенья прoшу—

Нo в мире для меня нет спасенья…”

Translation:

”I thirst for love, I seek forgiveness—

But in this world there is no redemption for me…”

(Lines approx. 151–152, trans. by Charles Johnston, in The Demon 1983, pp. 130–31)

This voice of exile and guilt reflects Jung’s claim that transformation requires confrontation with the shadow. Lermontov’s demon cannot fully destroy or transcend this inner split, and so his tragedy lies in the unfulfilled encounter with the self.

In contrast, Secret Voice internalizes the same archetype within a quieter, introspective register:

Original (Georgian):

“მაგრამ მე მსხედრსა ჩემსა ვერ ვჰპოვებ,

და მით კაეშანს ვერღა ვიშორებ!…”

Translation:

“But I can no longer find peace within myself,

And thus I cannot part with sorrow…”

(Lines approx. 5–6, trans. by the author from Baratashvili 1895, p. 7)

Here, the shadow is not exiled or demonized but encountered in a state of psychic disquiet. Rather than rejecting this inner affliction, the speaker acknowledges it as part of the self—not with resolution, but with trembling presence. This poetic moment illustrates what Jung defines as the initial stage of individuation: a process through which the unconscious is cautiously integrated into consciousness, enabling the subject to begin the journey toward psychic wholeness (Jung 1959b, pp. 123–28).

Northrop Frye’s theory of Romantic narrative structures—particularly the descent–ascent myth—also illuminates both poems. Frye describes the Romantic hero’s fall into alienation as a prerequisite for transformation (Frye 1957, pp. 186–94). The demon’s descent ends in cosmic solitude, while Baratashvili’s poetic subject descends into inner darkness only to glimpse a metaphysical “way” through the voice. Frye’s model helps frame Secret Voice as a symbolic descent—not into sin, but into the unconscious, where poetic meaning is reborn through suffering.

Thus, Jung and Frye converge: both poems dramatize a fall into interior crisis, and both explore how this descent generates poetic subjectivity. Secret Voice, though less dramatic than The Demon, expresses a similar archetypal journey in a distinctly Georgian rhythm of fragmentation and return.

2.2.1. Dialogism and Intertextuality: Kristeva and Bakhtin

This dialogic view builds on Kristeva’s intertextuality model, as previously outlined (Kristeva 1980). In this context, The Demon and Secret Voice should be understood not merely as individual creations but as multilayered discursive structures in which historical, cultural, and mythological narratives are re-coded.

Kristeva’s theoretical framework is directly linked to Mikhail Bakhtin’s concept of dialogism. Bakhtin argued that literary texts are grounds for an ongoing dialogue among multiple voices and perspectives, rather than conveying a single absolute meaning (Bakhtin 1981). In this light, The Demon encompasses a wide discursive field—from Christian demonology to Caucasian oral culture, from Romantic archetypes to existential issues of the individual. Similarly, Baratashvili’s Secret Voice attains intertextual depth by simultaneously carrying elements of Georgian oral tradition, Romantic melancholy, and metaphysical introspection.

The multilayered structure of both poems can be understood through direct quotation or influence and the circulation of shared cultural symbols, archetypal motifs, and affective tones within the transnational Romantic paradigm. Hence, the relationship between The Demon and Secret Voice exemplifies a reciprocal, non-unidirectional nature of intertextual resonance.

2.2.2. Jungian Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious

The symbolic tensions in both The Demon and Secret Voice are sharpened when seen through Carl Jung’s concept of the collective unconscious—a psychic reservoir of shared human archetypes (Jung [1959] 1968, pp. 43–45). Among these, the shadow archetype manifests prominently: a repressed force of desire and contradiction that often takes poetic form. In The Demon, this shadow finds voice in the demon’s existential lament:

“Я жажду любви, прoшения прoшу—

Нo нет мне прoщения в этoм мире…”

Translation:

“I thirst for love, I seek forgiveness—

But in this world there is no redemption for me…”

(Lines approx. 151–152, trans. by Charles Johnston, in The Demon, 1983, p. 1)

This moment dramatizes what Jung calls the confrontation with the shadow: the painful acknowledgment of inner division. From a formal perspective, this psychological fragmentation is also encoded metrically. A close rhythmic analysis of the original Russian lines reveals a tightly regulated iambic tetrameter (˘ – | ˘ – | ˘ – | ˘ –), typical of Lermontov’s Romantic style. The first line, “Я жажду любви, я прoщенья прoшу —", falls into four even iambic feet, as does the second: “Нo в мире для меня нет спасенья…”. This metrical symmetry, while aesthetically controlled, paradoxically underscores the speaker’s spiritual disintegration. The regular cadence mimics the obsessive repetition of the demon’s desire for forgiveness, but also accentuates the futility of that longing. The tension between rhythmic order and emotional chaos transforms the meter into a vehicle for tragic irony—form becomes a mask for inner collapse.

In contrast, Secret Voice renders the same archetype not through rebellion but through quiet psychic unrest:

“მაგრამ მე მხვედრსა ჩემსა ვერ ვჰპოვებ,

და მით კაეშანს ვერღა ვიშორებ!”

Translation:

“But I can no longer find peace within myself,

And thus I cannot part with sorrow…”

(Lines approx. 13–14, trans. by the author from Baratashvili 1895, p. 7)

Here, the voice of the shadow is not exiled but internalized—a whisper of inner disquiet that resists repression. Rather than seeking resolution, the poem dwells in what Jung terms the initial stage of individuation, where the subject begins integrating the unconscious into awareness (Jung [1959] 1968, p. 145). In this way, both poems trace mythopoetic journeys of descent that lead not to clarity, but to deeper self-recognition.

By contrast, Baratashvili’s Secret Voice engages the shadow not through conflict but through an intuitive psychic alignment. Here, the poetic self recognizes as essential to psychic wholeness. In this sense, Secret Voice expresses both individual transformation and a lyrical resonance with the collective unconscious.

This archetypal dimension resonates with Northrop Frye’s structures of Romantic narrative. Frye argued that Romantic literature is often constructed around mythical cycles of “ascent”, “descent”, and “rebirth” (Frye 1957, pp. 186–94). The Demon constructs this pattern through a tragic fall and solitude, while Secret Voice expresses the same structural pattern as an inward, nearly hushed process of transformation.

Within the framework of Frye’s “Romantic mode”, both poems align with mythopoetic structures that revolve around the hero’s inner or cosmic struggles (Frye 1957, pp. 186–206). Here, Jung’s concepts of the “hero’s journey” and “individuation” unite the two poems within a common psychic mythos (Jung 1959b, pp. 123–67). In Lermontov’s text, the self is in dramatic conflict with its shadow, whereas in Baratashvili’s poem, this conflict is transformed into quiet identification. Thus, both The Demon and Secret Voice contribute to a layered narrative world that links the individual existence of Romantic poetry with the universal unconscious. In the case of Secret Voice, this descent is not only mythopoetic but also culturally embedded. The poem resonates with a Georgian spiritual sensibility shaped by Orthodox mysticism, oral lament traditions, and national mourning in the post-imperial era. The persistent inward turning of the speaker echoes not just Jungian individuation but also the ritualized silence found in Georgian ascetic and poetic traditions. Here, the collective unconscious is refracted through cultural specificity—what is universal in archetype becomes singular in tone and rhythm. These symbolic and psychological contrasts between the two poems are further reinforced by their distinct formal choices, particularly in rhythm, syntax, and sound structure.

From a formal perspective, the structure of the verse further reinforces the psychological duality expressed by the shadow archetype. In The Demon, Lermontov employs a steady iambic tetrameter with masculine line-endings, producing a rhythmic regularity that contrasts with the inner disintegration of the demonic subject. For instance, the lines:

“Я жажду любви, я прoщенья прoшу—

Нo в мире для меня нет спасенья…”

Translation:

“I thirst for love, I seek forgiveness—

But in this world there is no redemption for me…”

(Lines approx. 151–152, trans. by Charles Johnston, in The Demon, 1983, p. 1)

sustain a rhythmic pattern that echoes the character’s obsessive repetition and inner thirst for absolution. The syntactic balance and parallelism between the two clauses (“I thirst for love, I seek forgiveness”) mirror the unresolved psychic division within the speaker. The line’s closure through a terminal caesura enhances the sense of fatalism and rhythmic collapse—an auditory symbol of metaphysical exile.

In contrast, Baratashvili’s Secret Voice operates in a less metrically fixed form. The Georgian verses, while loosely following a syllabic symmetry, utilize enjambment and phonetic softness to evoke an atmosphere of whisper-like uncertainty. The lines:

“მაგრამ მე მსხედრსა ჩემსა ვერ ვჰპოვებ,

და მით კაეშანს ვერღა ვიშორებ!…”

Translation:

“But I can no longer find peace within myself,

And thus I cannot part with sorrow…”

(Lines approx. 13–14, trans. by the author from Baratashvili 1895, p. 7)

flow with internal sonorities created by the repetition of /v/, /m/, and /kh/ sounds, which produce a meditative and self-revolving rhythm. This subdued cadence mirrors the Jungian shadow not as an externalized figure of doom, but as an internal atmosphere of lingering sorrow. Unlike Lermontov’s symmetrical binaries, Baratashvili’s formal structure resists resolution—maintaining the speaker in a state of rhythmic suspension. This stylistic divergence underscores the cultural difference in how inner fragmentation is experienced: dramatized in Russian Romanticism, internalized and ritualized in the Georgian counterpart. This formal contrast is not merely aesthetic but enacts the very descent Frye outlines in his Romantic mode. In The Demon, the metrical regularity—particularly the strict iambic tetrameter—creates a deceptive rhythmic control that collapses under the semantic weight of despair. The stress pattern drives the language forward even as the speaker’s identity fragments, embodying what Frye calls the mythos of tragic descent. Conversely, the rhythmic suspension in Secret Voice, achieved through enjambment and the diffuse consonance of /kh/, /v/, and /m/, illustrates a quieter, more internal fall. The cadence slows, folds inward, and resists forward momentum—mirroring the speaker’s halted psychic progression. The descent here is not dramatic but devotional, shaped by lyrical hesitation and sonic meditation. In both cases, rhythm is not an accessory to meaning but a vessel through which descent, fragmentation, and archetypal confrontation are enacted on the auditory plane.

2.3. Oral Culture, Folk Narratives, and Poetic Memory

According to Ong, in oral cultures, meaning is not confined solely to the content of words; it is also conveyed through repetition, rhythmic structure, and the acoustic resonance that sound imprints upon memory (Ong 1982, pp. 33–35). Although Baratashvili’s Secret Voice begins as an individual internal calling, it may be interpreted as a modern poetic reconfiguration of oral motifs such as the “guiding voice”, the “hidden echo”, and “divine intuition”—tropes prevalent in Georgian folk narratives.

As Ruth Finnegan (1977, pp. 113–16) argues, rhythm and repetition in oral cultures serve not only aesthetic but also epistemological and spiritual functions. These patterns sanctify the speech event and bind the listener into a shared mnemonic rhythm. In Secret Voice, the repetitive invocation of the inner “voice” acts not only as a personal signal but also as a mythic resonance inherited from oral tradition:

Original (Georgian):

“მაგრამ მე მსხედრსა ჩემსა ვერ ვჰპოვებ,

და მით კაეშანს ვერღა ვიშორებ!…”

Translation:

“A voice appears again, quietly, in my heart;

I do not know it, yet it shows me the way…”

(Lines approx. 5–6, trans. by the author from Baratashvili 1895, p. 7)

The acoustic flow and rhythmic cadence of these lines resemble the formal elements of oral lamentation or invocation. The voice is not described but heard, and its repetition recalls the “hero’s call” motif commonly found in Georgian folklore. In this context, the poem becomes not merely a psychological monologue but a mnemonic performance grounded in oral poetic memory.

This integration of individual and collective resonance aligns with what Paul Zumthor calls vocality: the voice as a site of cultural inscription and transformation. The poetic subject thus becomes a vessel through which oral echoes are renewed in written form. In Secret Voice, the voice is not explained but experienced—mirroring the rhythm and ambiguity of oral culture.

2.4. Orientalism, Representation, and the Postcolonial Perspective

Within the framework of Said’s theory of Orientalism, The Demon can be regarded as an example of the transformation of the East into a romanticized object of representation. In Lermontov’s poem, the Caucasus is not merely a pastoral backdrop but is positioned as the “other space” reflecting the demon’s inner void and metaphysical solitude (Said 1978, pp. 166–70). The East becomes the “Other” against which the Western subject—the demon—tests his identity. The following lines reflect this orientalist projection:

Original (Russian):

“Среди дoлин Дагестана, на утёсе…”

Translation:

“In the valleys of Dagestan, upon a cliff…”

(Lines approx. 1–2, trans. by Charles Johnston, in The Demon, 1983, p. 1)

Here, the inner voice is not located in an external landscape but internalized as ancestral echo and metaphysical burden. The imagery of the dagger and sin reorients Orientalist projection inward—toward spiritual suffering rather than territorial imagination. This reversal, from outer spectacle to inner resonance, represents a counter-discursive move that challenges Orientalist frameworks.

Thus, while The Demon maps identity by gazing toward the East, Secret Voice speaks from within the East—rewriting Romantic motifs through the lens of local ontological and poetic codes. Georgian Romanticism does not passively absorb Western forms; it transforms them through a culturally embedded intertextuality. In this sense, Secret Voice becomes a postcolonial articulation—not only of hybrid identity but of reclaimed poetic agency.

2.5. Romantic Teleology: The Inner Journey of the Self and Poetic Ascent

The Romantic orientation toward a metaphysical teleology of the self is a particularly salient feature in nineteenth-century literature from the Caucasus and Eastern Europe. This poetic tendency takes shape around themes such as personal transformation, inner enlightenment, and existential transcendence. Secret Voice occupies the initial phase of such a quest; the poetic subject stands at the threshold of a metaphysical journey. This inner calling may be read not only as individual intuition but as part of a broader poetic mythology. The structure of the poem gains significance through Jung’s concept of the “journey to the self” and Frye’s notion of the myth of “rebirth”. While The Demon represents the inner collapse of the demon through themes of fall and love, Secret Voice reflects the poetic reconstruction of the self through inner echo and awakening. These two structures together trace a multilayered axis of transformation from individual consciousness to collective poetic memory. In this way, cross-cultural poetic interaction is shaped into a creative poetic form.

The theoretical connection established between the poetry of Lermontov and Baratashvili reveals not only historical or thematic parallels but also structural, psychological, and mythopoetic depths. Within this framework, Georgian Romantic poetry transforms into a creative subject that both participates in and reshapes universal Romantic poetics through the lens of local cultural memory. This creative subject emerges not as a passive recipient but as an active agent who reconfigures poetic forms to construct a distinctive poetic identity.

2.6. Conceptual Framework: Archetypal Structures, Textual Voice, and Romantic Transformation

The conceptual framework of this study sought to analyze the structures of poetic consciousness that emerge in Georgian and Russian Romantic poetry through the multilayered lenses of archetypal criticism, oral culture theory, and intertextuality. Within this context, Lermontov’s The Demon and Baratashvili’s Secret Voice were taken as comparative points of reference. Both texts illuminate the transformation of the individual poetic subject and the poetic manifestations of the collective unconscious through shared figurative structures such as the “inner journey”, the “hidden voice”, and the “metaphysical echo”.

The influence of oral culture on poetic structures, previously discussed, was revisited through the lens of intermediality theory. Elleström (2010) suggested that poetry activates collective memory through multiple modalities, such as sound, visual imagery, and silence. In this framework, the “inner voice” in poetry may be understood not only as individual intuition but also as a mode of cultural and historical transmission. Assmann (2011) underscored the relationship between cultural memory and myth, showing how this transmission is particularly evident in poetic structures linked to historical trauma (pp. 247–53). Similarly, Ricoeur (2004) explored how poetic narrative intertwines with the acts of remembering, forgetting, and silence, conceiving of forgetting as an ethical and poetic phenomenon and addressing literary memory as a complex domain (pp. 139; 226; 229). Casey (2000) further argued that silence is not merely an absence but a phenomenological component of remembrance; in poetic narratives, silence functions as a carrier of meaning and an echo of memory. These theoretical perspectives provided a contemporary and holistic framework for analyzing the multilayered nature of the motifs of “hidden voice” and “metaphysical echo” that become pronounced in The Demon and Secret Voice.

3. Analysis and Discussion

3.1. Historical and Cultural Contact Zones

The literary circles that emerged in Tbilisi during the 1830s served as precursors to the modernizing generation later known as the Tergdaleulebi1. These gatherings, often hosted in the salons of Georgian aristocrats, functioned as zones of cultural intersection where local writers, Russian officers, exiled intellectuals, and translators convened. Baratashvili was an active participant in these milieus, drawing poetic inspiration from both the local oral heritage and these multicultural contact spaces. While there is no definitive evidence confirming Lermontov’s direct engagement with these circles, the presence of Georgian and Caucasian imagery in his poetry suggests a cultural proximity. Scholars such as Viktor Shklovsky (1993) and Alexander Etkind (2011) emphasized the prominence of symbolic landscapes tied to the Caucasian frontier in Lermontov’s early works. Within this context, Georgia appears not merely as a geographic encounter in Lermontov’s poetic imagination but as a mythic and romanticized space.

Some scholars, however, have argued that Lermontov’s connection to Georgia cannot be reduced solely to an imagined or poetic construct. According to sources such as Andronikov (1997, pp. 332–36) and Balakhashvili (1967, p. 244, 1940, p. 140), Lermontov attended intellectual salons at the residence of Prince Aleksandre Chavchavadze in Tbilisi, where he allegedly met Maia and Maiko Orbeliani2, members of the prominent Orbeliani aristocratic family. These names appear in his personal notebooks. Andronikov (1997, p. 337) further suggested the strong possibility that Lermontov encountered Grigol Orbeliani and Nikoloz Baratashvili at these gatherings. Given Baratashvili’s status at the time as a young poet gaining recognition within intellectual circles, this claim gains plausibility. Asatiani (1937, pp. 74–80) and Balakhashvili (1941) also posited that such an encounter might have occurred during a ball organized for Tsar Nicholas I’s visit to Georgia. These accounts indicate that a direct meeting between Lermontov and Baratashvili, though unproven, is historically conceivable, reinforcing the likelihood that both poets moved within similar cultural milieus.

Lermontov’s years of exile in Georgia significantly deepened his poetic and philosophical orientation, as he physically engaged with this imagined geography. Between 1837 and 1841, during his exile in the Caucasus, Lermontov developed a profound intellectual and aesthetic relationship with the region. Prince Aleksandre Chavchavadze’s literary circle in Tsinandali3 provided a fertile ground for cultural exchange between the Russian and Georgian intelligentsia and fueled Lermontov’s interest in Georgian folklore and the legacy of Shota Rustaveli4 (Rayfield 2000, pp. 213–15). In this historical context, a poetic and historical parallel can be drawn between Baratashvili’s Secret Voice (1836) and the sixth version of Lermontov’s The Demon (1838). The sixth version was chosen for its deeper treatment of the demon figure’s metaphysical and ontological dimensions.

Although no concrete documentation proves direct literary influence, eyewitness testimonies and translation practices of the period lend credibility to the possibility of a mutual poetic resonance between The Demon and Secret Voice. In recent years, The Demon has been extensively analyzed through theological, psychoanalytic, and postcolonial lenses (Allen 2007; Etkind 2011; Pushkin and Lermontov 1983). The poem’s Orientalist representations, in particular, have been discussed within the framework of Said’s theory of Orientalism, emphasizing the portrayal of the Caucasus as an “exotic Other” (Said 1978, pp. 166–70). The theological and mythological imagery of the “fallen angel” and “rebellious spirit” has been connected to Jung’s theory of the collective unconscious and the archetype of the shadow (Jung [1959] 1968, p. 145). Furthermore, in light of Frye’s model of romantic narrative, The Demon exhibits characteristics of a romantic mode rooted in the myths of downfall and the rebellious hero (Frye 1957, pp. 186–94). This multilayered thematic structure highlights the poem’s poetic intensity on both individual and cultural levels. However, possible interactions between Lermontov’s poetic universe and Georgian literary tradition have been largely overlooked in scholarly literature. This study sought to address this gap by exploring the potential relationship between the canonical sixth version of The Demon and Georgian poetry.

This potential relationship may be interpreted in aesthetic terms, as well as through shared religious and cultural representations between the two nations. In this regard, the common Orthodox Christian heritage of Russian and Georgian cultures provides a significant intertextual foundation. Narratives involving demonic encounters, spiritual struggles, and divine or infernal voices are prevalent in both Byzantine and Muscovite traditions. Stories such as The Tale of Savva Grudtsyn, which portray human–demon encounters within moral and theological frameworks, were widely disseminated in Russian literature and may have influenced the archetypal imaginary of poets like Lermontov. Rather than being culturally specific, these narratives point to a shared symbolic memory in which both The Demon and Secret Voice participate.

This study focused on the sixth version of Lermontov’s The Demon, composed in 1838, as its object of analysis. This version is widely regarded as the most mature expression of the poet’s aesthetic and philosophical orientation and is considered the canonical text by literary scholars. While earlier versions contain romantic idealism, pastoral imagery, and classical motifs, the sixth version shifts toward thematic depth involving metaphysical solitude, internal disintegration, and melancholic resistance. Within this framework, the internal voice, existential inquiry, and metaphysical hesitation that resonate in Baratashvili’s Secret Voice may be seen as more directly aligned with this mature version of The Demon.

3.2. The Poetics of Aesthetic Resistance: The Dual Ontology of the Demon

Lermontov’s The Demon is a multilayered poetic work centred on the metaphysical solitude of a rebellious subject and his tragic experience of love. The demon figure echoes mythological archetypes such as Prometheus, Lucifer, and Faust, occupying a liminal position as both a figure of defiance and a seeker of redemption. Within this framework, Frye’s conceptualization of the “hero of romantic tragedy” offers a functional theoretical lens through which the demon’s nature—woven with inner contradictions—can be interpreted (Frye 1957, pp. 186–94). The poem elevates individual conflict to a cosmic plane, foregrounding the ethical and metaphysical inquiries central to Russian Romanticism.

The poem’s sixth and final version (1836–1841), in particular, deepens the demon figure through themes of ontological ambiguity, cosmic isolation, and existential collapse. His relationship with Tamara embodies a paradoxical structure in which the yearning for redemption is inextricably intertwined with tragic destruction. Interpreted through Lotman’s theory of cultural memory, the demon emerges not only as an individual myth but also as a collective poetic image reconfigured through Christian iconography and folk narratives (Lotman 1990, pp. 125–30). In this sense, The Demon functions as a boundary figure intersecting Western metaphysical emptiness with Eastern exotic Romanticism, creating a poetic space that holds aesthetic resistance and metaphysical disintegration in simultaneous tension.

While Lermontov’s poem centres on the themes of cosmic solitude and metaphysical collapse, Georgian Romanticism offers a different, more introspective response to these motifs. Baratashvili’s Secret Voice, though similarly invested in existential questioning, constructs its poetic terrain through an internal silence, a moral echo. Thus, a dialogic relationship emerges between the two poems, resonant in both poetic and cultural dimensions, yet divergent in orientation and voice.

3.3. The Poem of Silence: Secret Voice and the Poetics of the Inner Voice

In contrast to the multilayered and metaphysical construction of The Demon, Baratashvili’s Secret Voice emerges as an echo born of silence—an early exemplar of Georgian Romanticism that gives form to the inner consciousness of the Romantic subject.

While Jung’s archetypal theory frames the voice as a psychic imprint of the shadow, Kristeva’s and Barthes’s theories allow us to examine how this voice functions formally and semiotically. The voice in Secret Voice is not merely personal but resonates with collective memory, conscience, and cultural remembrance. This hybrid expression—interwoven with echoes from The Demon and sacred elements of Georgian oral tradition—unfolds along existential thresholds.

Barthes’s concept of the “textual voice” becomes especially relevant in this context. Rather than locating voice in a stable authorial position, Barthes frames it as a shifting effect produced through the interplay of language, rhythm, and reader perception (Barthes 1977, p. 182). In Secret Voice, this textual voice is not bound to a fixed speaker but emerges from the tension between silence and utterance—between cultural memory and individual grief. The whisper-like cadence, marked by enjambment and phonemic repetition, gives voice to a subject that is both absent and dispersed, evoking what Barthes describes as a “scriptible” text: one that invites interpretive co-creation rather than delivering a closed message.

Within this framework, Jung’s theory of the collective unconscious (Jung [1959] 1968, p. 148) clarifies the presence of archetypal structures, while Kristeva’s (1980, p. 66) model of intertextuality and Barthes’ (1977, p. 182) concept of the textual voice help reveal a layered resonance that merges the sacred and the poetic. According to Ong’s theory of oral culture (Ong 1982, p. 45), the poem’s interplay of silence and echo becomes a central aesthetic strategy. In this light, Secret Voice establishes a poetic counter-space to The Demon, where inner fragmentation and mystical intensity converge. This silent tension recalls the Jungian shadow as a repressed psychic force undergoing transformation.

Kristeva’s theory of the chora further clarifies the semiotic instability of this poetic voice. The original line in Georgian—“მისი კმა არის ეს საკვირველი?”—literally means “Is this wondrous voice his?” While the term sakvirveli khma (wondrous voice) is not explicitly “secret”, it evokes a voice that emerges from beyond ordinary perception. Interpreted poetically as a “secret voice”, it acquires symbolic weight. Though not strictly alliterative, the phrase carries a whisper-like softness and tonal ambiguity, generating a subtle resonance that eludes fixed interpretation. In this sense, it exemplifies what Kristeva describes as the semiotic chora—a pre-symbolic, affective rhythm that underlies articulated meaning. The line thus vibrates in a liminal space between silence and expression, between the sacred and the poetic, between individual longing and cultural memory.

While Kristeva and Barthes highlight linguistic resonance, Jung’s theory deepens the psychological dimension of this voice. The duality expressed in the line “Are you my angel or my demon?” (Baratashvili 1895, p. 7) exemplifies this archetype, where the inner voice becomes both a source of fear and potential for psychic growth. Jung describes the shadow as a part of the unconscious that contains traits rejected by the conscious ego, yet necessary for individuation (Jung [1959] 1968, pp. 143–46). In this context, the poem enacts not only inner rupture but also symbolic reintegration.

This aesthetic experience of silence and psychic trembling, as theorized through Kristeva’s chora, is further amplified by the poem’s formal and sonic structure. Kristeva’s chora functions not merely as a metaphor for pre-verbal rhythm, but as a dynamic pulsation that unsettles symbolic coherence (Kristeva 1980, pp. 94–96). In Secret Voice, this is evident in the accumulation of open-ended syntactic structures and fluid enjambments that prevent the emergence of a clear subject or resolution. The voice thus drifts between presence and absence, echoing the chora’s refusal to stabilize into fixed meaning. Formally, the poem’s sonic and syntactic structure enacts this transformation. The text departs from traditional fixed meter and instead adopts a free syllabic rhythm, which mirrors the fragmented consciousness of the speaker. The use of enjambment—particularly between lines 5 and 6 (“მაგრამ მე მსხედრსა ჩემსა ვერ ვჰპოვებ,/და მით კაეშანს ვერღა ვიშორებ”)—creates a syntactic suspension, delaying closure and reinforcing the speaker’s existential uncertainty. This formal indeterminacy parallels the psychic ambiguity embodied by the inner voice. Moreover, the repetition of soft voiced consonants such as /მ/ (m), /ვ/ (v), and aspirated /ხ/ (kh) throughout the poem evokes a breath-like rhythm that intensifies the whispering, internalized nature of the speech act.

Such sonic features align directly with Kristeva’s concept of the semiotic chora—a pre-symbolic rhythmic domain where meaning is gestured rather than fixed. The absence of strong caesurae, coupled with fluid enjambments, suggests a voice that is not declarative but emergent—one that resonates rather than asserts. For example, the line:

“მისი კმა არის ეს საკვირველი?” (“Is this wondrous voice his?”)

lacks syntactic anchoring and ends with an open-ended interrogative cadence, emphasizing tonal ambiguity over semantic clarity. This open structure not only resists closure but also reproduces, in form, the very psychic trembling the poem narrates. In this way, the formal texture of the poem is inseparable from its psychological and philosophical depth. In this way, the formal texture of the poem is inseparable from its psychological and philosophical depth. The voice functions not merely as theme but as a sonic structure of metaphysical tension. This poetic silence is not merely a Romantic gesture; it reflects a broader Georgian cultural mode shaped by Orthodox monasticism, mourning poetry (shiromani), and postcolonial national trauma. The “secret voice” thus arises not only from the psyche but also from the historical experience of cultural repression and spiritual endurance. This auditory instability mirrors what Northrop Frye terms the poetic “descent” in the tragic mode of Romanticism. This auditory instability is reinforced by Northrop Frye’s concept of mythic descent. In Secret Voice, descent is not dramatized through catastrophic fall but is rendered in formal hesitation—marked by delayed syntactic resolution, breath-like phonemes, and a refusal of prosodic closure. Rhythmically, the poem slows and sways, enacting the soul’s passage through liminality. Thus, Frye’s descent structure is transposed from mythic narrative into sonic form: silence becomes the medium of fall. The speaker’s voice dissolves into the folds of the semiotic chora, where meaning is suspended and identity remains unfinished.

3.4. A Hermeneutic Encounter: Metaphysical Dialogue Between the Demon and Secret Voice

The affinity between Lermontov and Baratashvili reflects not only aesthetic parallels but also shared cultural, historical, and psychological dimensions. Both poets—one situated at the peripheries of the Russian Empire, the other at the threshold of Georgian cultural identity—wrote within a Romantic climate shaped by metaphysical doubt, existential solitude, and tensions of selfhood. Their poems, The Demon and Secret Voice, embody powerful resonances of this shared poetic terrain (Pushkin and Lermontov 1983, pp. 107–44; Baratashvili 1895, pp. 7–8).

The Demon, especially in its sixth version dated 1838, deepens the figure of the demon through structural transformation from its 1829 draft, positioning him within a framework of inner solitude, love, and ontological crisis. In parallel, Secret Voice constructs a lyrical space in which internal expression intersects with collective memory and cultural conscience. Both texts convey the Romantic subject’s metaphysical threshold experiences through imagery of voice oscillating between angelic and demonic tones—mirroring the ambivalence of the Jungian shadow.

Bakhtin’s theory of dialogism provides a powerful framework for interpreting these metaphysical voices. In The Demon, the voice is overt and dominant—“I am the one whose gaze destroys hope”—while in Secret Voice, the utterance remains tentative and tremulous—“Do not abandon me, though I tremble to hear you”. These contrasting voicings create a polyphonic tension, where each poem speaks not in isolation but as part of a dialogic constellation of identities. The demon’s destructive gaze and the Georgian speaker’s fearful devotion illustrate a double-voiced discourse in which meaning is negotiated across languages, identities, and cultural memory (Bakhtin 1981, pp. 292–96).

These parallel gains further resonance on both historical and spatial levels. Lermontov’s residency in Georgia—particularly his time in Tbilisi and the Kakheti region—enhanced his familiarity with Georgian culture. The intellectual circle around Prince Aleksandre Chavchavadze in Tsinandali nurtured an environment of literary exchange and translation between Russian and Georgian poets. Within this context, the relationship between the two poems appears not merely as literary influence, but as a manifestation of a broader cultural contact zone.

Although no documented correspondence or personal encounter between Lermontov and Baratashvili has survived, the literary atmosphere of the time—alongside shared imagistic repertoires and translation networks—suggests both poets were indirectly participating in a common intellectual space. Lermontov’s exposure to Georgian oral tradition, combined with the translation of some of his poems into Georgian (Jones 2005), further supports this hypothesis. Thus, the relationship between The Demon and Secret Voice should not be reduced to mere historical coincidence; instead, the interplay of archetypes, metaphysical inquiry, and poetic structure reveals a profound hermeneutic encounter that articulates the Romantic subject’s existential crisis on both individual and cultural planes.

3.5. Metaphysical Uncertainty and a Shared Poetic Inquiry

At the centre of The Demon and Secret Voice lies a profound metaphysical interrogation, triggered by a voice that lingers at the boundaries of selfhood: “Who speaks?” and “Where does this voice originate?” These are not merely dramatic questions but poetic expressions of Lermontov and Baratashvili’s existential tensions and negotiations with cultural consciousness.

In Secret Voice, the inner voice assumes a dual character—oscillating between angelic protection and demonic temptation:

Original (Georgian):

“ანგელოზი ხარ, მფარველი ჩემი,

ან თუ ეშმაკი, მაცდური ჩემი…”

Translation:

“Are you my angel or my demon

Or are you the devil, my tempter…”

(Lines approx. 7–20, author’s own translation from Baratashvili 1895, p. 8)

The dual phrasing—“ანგელოზი” (angel) and “ეშმაკი” (demon), “მფარველი” (guardian) and “მაცდური” (tempter)—creates a poetic polarity that reflects the Jungian shadow’s dual structure of protection and peril. The Georgian rhythm, shaped by soft sonorants and a symmetrical cadence, heightens the internal ambiguity of the voice. This voice does not operate on a merely rhetorical level; it evokes an ontological tension, confronting the speaker with a crisis of identity and spiritual orientation. It is a voice that emerges not only from within, but also from the archetypal unconscious, poised between transcendence and temptation. This ambiguity becomes both the object of longing and the source of doubt. Its resonance finds an echo in Lermontov’s demon:

Original (Russian):

Я тoт, к кoму ты в пoлнoчь прислушалась в мoлчанье…

Я тoт, чей взoр надежды лишает…

Translation:

“I am the one to whom you listened

In midnight’s silence…

I am the one whose gaze destroys hope.”

(Lines approx. 124–126, transl. by Charles Johnston, in Lermontov, The Demon, 1983, pp. 120–21)

The contrast between мoлчанье (silence) and взoр лишает надежды (gaze destroys hope) establishes a sonic and thematic paradox between intimacy and destruction. The repetition of soft consonants (л, ш) in прислушалась в мoлчанье evokes a deceptive gentleness, while the sharp ж, д sounds in надежды лишает convey abrupt despair. These tonal shifts mirror the demon’s internal fragmentation and project his metaphysical exile.

In both poems, the emergent presence unfolds at the liminal threshold between self and other. This tension resonates with Julia Kristeva’s notion of the semiotic chora—a pre-symbolic domain composed of rhythms, tonal flows, and affective pulsations (Kristeva 1980, p. 95). This concept becomes evident in Baratashvili’s line:

Original (Georgian):

“მისი კმა არის ეს საკვირველი?”

Translation:

“Is this wondrous voice his?”

(Lines 1, author’s own translation from the Georgian original. Baratashvili 1895, p. 7)

The utterance, lacking syntactic closure and rhetorical resolution, privileges sound and intonation over stable meaning. Its tonal ambiguity and open-ended structure evoke the chora’s sonic logic, where meaning is deferred and emotion resonates. This indeterminacy also reflects what Kristeva describes as the horizontal axis of intertextuality: a space where poetic voice emerges not from fixed identity but from echoic relations within the unconscious and the symbolic order. In this context, chora signifies not only the individual’s inner affective world but also archetypal resonances inherited from Georgian oral tradition. Baratashvili deepens the metaphysical problematic further by asking the following:

Original (Georgian):

“ნუ თუ კმა ესე არს კმა დევნისა

შეუწყალისა სინდისისა?…”

“Could this be divine judgment?!

Or the fate of this afflicted soul?”

(Lines approx. 10–11, author’s own translation from the Georgian original. Baratashvili 1895, p. 7)

Is the voice divine judgement or the echo of a tormented soul? This uncertainty embodies the core metaphysical conflict of the poem. Similarly, Lermontov’s demon figure represents both damnation and the yearning for redemption. As Elizabeth Cheresh Allen notes, the demon “exists in a tense oscillation between sin and purification, denial and faith” (Allen 2007, p. 114). Such poetic ambiguity echoes the shadow-self Jung describes as both destructive and redemptive, suspended between darkness and transformation.

Drawing on Northrop Frye’s romantic mode, both The Demon and Secret Voice reflect a mythic structure of descent into alienation and potential rebirth. In The Demon, the fallen angel’s exile from the divine and his destructive love for Tamara follow the tragic arc of the romantic hero, embodying Frye’s typology of demonic descent (Frye 1957, pp. 186–206). Similarly, in Secret Voice, the speaker’s existential tremor and encounter with a mysterious voice represent not a fall into sin, but a symbolic descent into the unconscious—a space of shadow, mystery, and eventual poetic renewal. Frye’s concept of archetypal transformation thus clarifies how both poems articulate metaphysical suffering as a threshold to reconfiguration and poetic selfhood. Ultimately, this shared metaphysical inquiry situates both poems not merely as personal reflections of psychological conflict but as contributions to the broader cartography of Romantic poetics—encompassing voice, belonging, transformation, and selfhood.

4. Romantic Structures in Dialogue

4.1. The Angelic Trace and Poetic Resonance

The angelic figure, prominent in the early versions of Lermontov’s The Demon, is symbolically erased from the poem’s final, sixth version (Lermontov 1989, p. 118). However, this erasure does not imply the complete disappearance of its poetic influence. On the contrary, echoes such as “Who called me?” reveal that the angelic voice persists in the poem’s deep structure in fragmented and reverberating forms.

A similar invocation can be found in Nikoloz Baratashvili’s poem Sulo Boroto (Evil Spirit):

Original (Georgian):

“მარქვი, რა უყავ, სად წამიღე,

ჩემი ოცნებით ცა რატომ დასვარე?”

Translation:

“Tell me, what did you do to me? Where did you take me?

Why did you stain the sky with my dreams?”

(Lines approx. 4–5, author’s translation from the Georgian original. Baratashvili 1895, p. 7)

This inner calling resonates with the dark invocation of the angelic voice addressed to the demon in Lermontov’s The Demon:

Original (Russian):

“Дух беспoкoйный, дух пoрoчный!

Ктo звал тебя вo тьме пoлнoчнoй?”

Translation:

“Troubled spirit, impure spirit,

Who called you in the midnight darkness?”

(Lines approx. 35–36, trans. by Charles Johnston, in Lermontov, The Demon, 1983, pp. 111–12)

In both texts, the figure of the “called spirit” is not merely the voice of an individual conscience but becomes the poetic representation of a metaphysical subject entangled in love, sin, and fate. The echoing calls in these lines exceed the domain of individual supplication and instead reflect a shared invocation embedded in collective poetic memory. The intertextual relationship between the fading angel in The Demon and the unheard “voice seeking understanding” in Baratashvili’s verse should be read not as direct influence but as a poetic manifestation of shared images circulating in cultural memory.

Barthes’s theory of intertextuality conceptualizes literary encounters not as hierarchical relationships of “original source” and “influence” but as intersections within multilayered discursive networks. According to Barthes, “texts are not sources of one another; they are the convergence points of multiple discourses” (Barthes 1977). This framework allows us to interpret the parallels between The Demon, Sulo Boroto, and Secret Voice not in terms of linear derivation, but as resonances within a common symbolic and poetic universe.

Although the angel figure is textually erased in The Demon, its lingering echoes in poetic memory reveal a deeper “relationship of voice” between Lermontov and Baratashvili. This poetic relationship is not only expressed at the figurative level but also emerges through narrative structures, ontological tensions, and the fragmentation of subjectivity. The following section examines how this “voice” figure is shaped in both poems and how it reverberates on the thematic level.

While both The Demon and Secret Voice revolve around metaphysical anguish and fractured identity, their formal and stylistic executions diverge significantly. Lermontov’s poem is composed in a sustained, metric iambic tetrameter, with a clear narrative arc and elevated diction. The Demon’s lines are elongated, rhythmically controlled, and rich in symbolic binaries—such as “gaze/hope” or “love/death”—often constructed with symmetrical parallelism that reinforces the character’s tragic grandeur, such as in the following:

Original (Russian):

“Я жажду любви, я прoщенья прoшу—

Нo в мире для меня нет спасенья…”

Translation:

“I thirst for love, I seek forgiveness—

But in this world there is no redemption for me…”

(Lines approx. 151–152, trans. by Charles Johnston, in Lermontov, The Demon, 1983, pp. 120–30)

This structure foregrounds rhythm, balance, and dramatic contrast. In contrast, Baratashvili’s Secret Voice employs shorter, more fragmentary lines, often with enjambment, syntactic ambiguity, and repeated epithets. The poem’s cadence imitates oral invocation or prayer, producing a meditative, interior rhythm. Consider the following:

Original (Georgian):

“მაგრამ მე მსხედრსა ჩემსა ვერ ვჰპოვებ,

და მით კაეშანს ვერღა ვიშორებ!…”

Translation:

“A voice appears again, quietly, in my heart;

I do not know it, yet it shows me the way…”

(Lines approx. 5–6, trans. By the author from Baratashvili 1895, p. 7)

The Georgian verse uses soft consonants and fluid line breaks to evoke a whisper-like quality. Unlike Lermontov’s rhetorical precision, Baratashvili’s diction emphasizes metaphysical openness and vulnerability. These stylistic contrasts reflect deeper poetic orientations: Lermontov’s toward epic tragedy and symbolic dualism; Baratashvili’s toward lyric introspection, spiritual longing, and uncertainty.

4.1.1. Poetic Reverberations and Thematic Parallels

In The Demon and Secret Voice, the “voice” figure is not merely an auditory experience; it becomes a poetic manifestation of repressed memory, metaphysical entrapment, and internal fragmentation. It functions both as an echo from within the individual self and as an aural expression of conflicted relationships with divine or demonic authorities.

In Secret Voice, Baratashvili depicts this reverberation as a call emerging from a cursed and unsettling source:

Original (Georgian):

“ნუ თუ კმა ესე არს კმა დევნისა

შეუწყალისა სინიდისისა?....”

Translation:

“Is this voice not the outcry

Of a cursed and merciless soul?!”

(Lines approx. 15–16, author’s translation from the Georgian original, Baratashvili 1895, p. 7)

This interrogative line reverberates with internal despair and metaphysical dread. The harsh guttural consonants in “დევნისა” (torment) and “სინიდისისა” (conscience) amplify the psychological anguish. The speaker’s refusal to affirm, instead choosing to question, reflects what Frye describes as the “tragic mode of mythic descent”—a downward journey into the shadowed recesses of guilt, conscience, and the unknown self. The voice is both a warning and a call for confrontation—unresolved, cyclical, and unrelenting.

Original (Russian):

“Оставь меня, дух oбмана!”

Translation:

“Leave me, oh deceitful spirit!”

(Lines approx. 283–284, trans. by Charles Johnston, in Lermontov, The Demon, 1983, pp. 130–31)

The word “oбмана” (deceit) crystallizes the speaker’s perception of the demon—not as a pure force of evil, but as one embodying illusion and betrayal. The imperative “oставь” (leave) resonates with desperation and entrapment. This call for expulsion paradoxically affirms the demon’s presence—mirroring the inner fragmentation that neither poem can fully resolve.

While on the surface this ‘voice’ appears to summon a demonic force, at a deeper level, it reverberates as an echo of the subject’s repressed desires and internal contradictions. This voice cannot be entirely banished, nor fully embraced; it represents both a denied curse and an indelible cry arising from the fractured core of identity.

In Lermontov’s poem, this voice gradually transforms into a plea and ultimately an existential rebellion. Every word addressed by the demon to God becomes the dramatic aural manifestation of earthly exile and the hope for redemption. In Baratashvili’s poem, this same voice is not only the poetic echo of a fragmented self but also the imprint of collective traumas.

From the perspective of Kristeva’s intertextuality theory, this voice is not merely a product of formal resemblance. Rather, it serves as a conduit for a multilayered discursive structure where historical, ideological, and archetypal elements are intertwined (Kristeva 1980, pp. 90–92). The “call of the past” thus emerges as a dynamic imprint of cultural memory on the poetic surface rather than solely as an individual reckoning. These poetic echoes invite us to ask complex aesthetic questions—not only about what is being said, but who says it, in what context, and with what emotional and historical weight. In this sense, “voice” functions both as a represented object and as an unstable medium that continuously questions its own mode of representation.

This theoretical framework enables a more concrete understanding of the aesthetic and poetic reflections between the two poems. The intertextual relationship that unfolds between them is not only one of content but extends to formal and affective dimensions, marking a deep reciprocity.

These echoes of inner conflict and cosmic rebellion are also structured through formal contrasts, which deepen the archetypal divergences between the two poetic voices.

In The Demon, Lermontov constructs a tightly regulated iambic tetrameter with line-final masculine endings and frequent caesurae, producing a sonic atmosphere of control that paradoxically highlights the speaker’s internal collapse. The lines often fall into symmetrical pairs that reinforce the dualistic tension of the demonic subject, as in:

Original (Russian):

“Увы! нет счастья для меня

Ни на земле, ни пoд звездoй…”

Translation:

(“Alas! There is no happiness for me—

Neither on earth, nor under the stars…”

(Lines approx. 78–79, trans. by Charles Johnston, in Lermontov, The Demon, 1983, pp. 133–34)

Here, the repetition of “ни… ни…” (neither… nor…) and the strong syllabic balance accentuate a metaphysical deadlock—the absence of spiritual escape. This formal closure supports Frye’s Romantic cycle of descent without rebirth (Frye 1957, p. 190). Frye’s mythic structure of descent becomes more than a thematic metaphor when it materializes through the poetic form. In The Demon, the recurrence of caesurae and rhythmic symmetry mirrors a tragic fall that is codified into the very breath of the poem. In contrast, Baratashvili’s looser syllabic rhythm suggests a spiral motion—a descent that lacks linearity and resolution. These formal choices are not ornamental, but structural embodiments of archetypal motion.

In contrast, Baratashvili’s Secret Voice resists closure both thematically and rhythmically. The use of enjambment and free syllabic rhythm produces a softer poetic motion, marked by what Bakhtin might term an “internally persuasive discourse” (Bakhtin 1981, p. 346), where voice is provisional, searching. Consider the following lines:

“მაგრამ მე მსხედრსა ჩემსა ვერ ვჰპოვებ,

და მით კაეშანს ვერღა ვიშორებ!…”

Translation:

“But I can no longer find peace within myself,

And thus I cannot part with sorrow…”

(Lines approx. 5–6, trans. by the author from Baratashvili 1895, p. 7)

The soft consonantal patterning and open syntactic progression prevent finality. This rhythmic hesitation aligns with Jung’s idea of shadow integration as a non-linear, ongoing psychic negotiation (Jung [1959] 1968, p. 147). The poem does not declare identity—it trembles toward it. Thus, where The Demon dramatizes rebellion through symmetrical force, Secret Voice renders psychic struggle as lyrical drift. The difference in formal structure is not merely stylistic but ontological: Lermontov’s verse insists; Baratashvili’s listens. This formal contrast can also be re-read through Northrop Frye’s mythic descent framework. Lermontov’s tightly symmetrical meter and terminal caesurae embody what Frye would consider a classical descent into tragic inevitability—each line folding in upon itself like a sealed fate. Baratashvili, by contrast, opens his lines rhythmically and phonetically, echoing a descent that is not tragic but liminal. The poem does not fall—it sinks into interiority. This shift from epic fall to lyrical suspension transforms Frye’s descent from narrative arc into tonal drift, mapping Romantic fragmentation not as collapse, but as a soft unravelling of self.

4.1.2. Aesthetic and Poetic Reflections

The intertextual connection established between The Demon and Secret Voice exemplifies a multilayered poetic interaction that transcends national literary boundaries. Despite his young age, Baratashvili is known to have been familiar with Russian literature, particularly with the poetry of Lermontov. Conversely, during his years in Georgia, Lermontov’s exposure to the Caucasian landscape and the Georgian imaginative world significantly shaped both the topographical texture and the metaphysical atmosphere of The Demon (Rayfield 2000, p. 274).

Within the framework of Bakhtin’s dialogic theory, the “voice” in both poems functions not only as an expression of inner psychological conflict but also as a multi-dimensional narrative device that opens onto social memory and cross-cultural dialogue (Bakhtin 1981, p. 428). The echoic bond between Lermontov’s question “Who called me?” and Baratashvili’s internal plea “Who understood me…” transcends the characters’ psychological dramas to become a metaphorical projection of narrative resonance between two distinct cultures.

In this regard, both poems are not merely products of individual creation; they are also poetic traces of the collective unconscious and nodal points within a web of cultural interaction. Although there is no direct evidence of mutual influence, the formal and thematic parallels between the works suggest a typological affinity and point toward a shared intercultural foundation underlying the structures of Romantic consciousness. This shared foundation should be examined not only in terms of thematic similarities but also through narrative architecture, character representation, and the analysis of poetic subjectivity.

4.2. Textual Representation, Psychological Tension, and Narrative Structure

Lermontov’s The Demon and Baratashvili’s Secret Voice demonstrate striking psycho-poetic parallels—not only on an aesthetic level but also in terms of narrative structure, character portrayal, and psychological depth. The motif of the “voice” in both poems functions not merely as a sensory element but as a reflection of the unconscious, a mode of existential inquiry, and a dramatic representation of the fragmented self. The narrator’s position, the direction of poetic discourse, and the articulation of inner conflict warrant a comparative reading of the two texts.

Within this framework, Jung’s archetype of the “shadow” represents a destructive internal conflict shaped by a rupture from the divine plane in The Demon, while in Secret Voice, this conflict is conveyed more inwardly, silently, and with a sense of resigned reconciliation (Jung [1959] 1968, pp. 143–46). This divergence manifests at both the thematic level and within the discourse structure. Lermontov’s narrator speaks from an epic perspective that challenges metaphysical authority, whereas Baratashvili’s narrator is enveloped in inner ambiguity. This distinction aligns with Frye’s conception of the “romantic mode”, wherein the hero’s rise and fall unfold in differing forms across both texts (Frye 1957, pp. 186–206).

Moreover, these narrative differences are reflected in the poems’ formal structures. The Demon employs frequent enjambments and a dramatic rhythm that accentuate the sense of downfall and rupture, while Secret Voice adopts a more meditative and static tone. In this sense, “transformation” emerges as a multilayered phenomenon, encompassing not only thematic content but also poetic form, sound structure, and the arrangement of imagery.

4.2.1. Narrative Positions and Representations of the Self

In both poems, the narrator is not a passive, external observer in the traditional sense, but an active poetic subject immersed in internal conflict and speaking from within a fragmented self. In The Demon, the narrator’s voice and the character’s voice become indistinguishable; the demonic figure articulates both his existential reflections and his seductive nature:

Original (Russian):

“Я тoт, к кoму ты в пoлнoчь прислушалась в мoлчанье…

Я тoт, чей взoр лишает надежды…”

Translation:

“I am the one to whom you listened In the silence of midnight…

I am the one whose gaze destroys hope…”

(Lines approx. 124–126, trans. by Charles Johnston, in The Demon, Pushkin and Lermontov 1983, pp. 120–30)

The use of the first-person pronoun “Я” (“I”) combined with verbs of perception like “прислушалась” (“listened”) blurs the boundary between the voice and the gaze. The internal fragmentation of the self is dramatized in the transition from intimate silence to destructive vision, encapsulated in the phrase “взoр лишает надежды” (“gaze destroys hope”).

Similarly, in Baratashvili’s Secret Voice, the speaking subject is influenced by an undefined inner voice. This voice destabilizes the poetic subject’s direction, identity, and will:

Original (Georgian):

“ანგელოზი ხარ, მფარველი ჩემი, —

ან თუ ეშმაკი, მაცდური ჩემი… “

ვინცა ხარ, მარქვი, რას მომისწავებ…”

Translation:

“Are you my angel or my demon—

Or are you the devil, my tempter?

Whoever you are, tell me: what do you foretell?”

(Lines approx. 7–20, author’s own translation from the Georgian original. Baratashvili 1895, p. 8)

The voice here is a liminal force—ambiguous in its source and moral polarity. The symmetrical opposition between “ანგელოზი” (angel) and “ეშმაკი” (demon), as well as “მფარველი” (guardian) and “მაცდური” (tempter), construct a split psychic landscape in which the self seeks orientation through contradiction.

Freud’s notion of the Unheimlich (the uncanny) offers a helpful lens here: The familiar—the inner voice—suddenly transforms into an object of alienation and fear (Freud 1919, pp. 241–45). In both The Demon and Secret Voice, the self is not stable; it is layered, ambivalent, and haunted by inner echoes of desire and denial.

4.2.2. Psychological Tension and Inner Fragmentation

The dramatic structure of Secret Voice is grounded in the poetic subject’s confrontation with the unconscious. According to Jung, repressed and denied elements of the self accumulate in the unconscious as the “shadow”, and the individual’s process of transformation begins with facing this dark side (Jung 1959a, Aion, paras. 14–19; p. 266). This shadow emerges not only thematically but poetically in the form of a mysterious voice, which speaks from within yet remains foreign:

Original (Georgian):

“მაგრამ მე მსხედრსა ჩემსა ვერ ვჰპოვებ,

და მით კაეშანს ვერღა ვიშორებ!…”

Translation:

“But I can no longer find peace within myself,

And thus I cannot part with sorrow…”

(Lines approx. 5–6, trans. by the author from Baratashvili 1895, p. 7)

Here, the absence of inner stillness becomes a poetic manifestation of Jung’s concept of the shadow—a hidden, repressed aspect of the self. The repetition of negation (“ვერ ვჰპოვებ”, “ვერღა ვიშორებ”) underscores the speaker’s psychic fragmentation. What should be intimate—the inner self—becomes alienated and unreachable. This mirrors what Jung described as “the Other within”, the unconscious shadow that disturbs identity and reveals inner division.

Similarly, in Lermontov’s The Demon, the protagonist is a being exiled from divine unity, tormented by memory and longing:

Original (Russian):

“Я не мoгу забыть… Я всё ещё люблю…”

Translation:

“I cannot forget… I still love…”

(Lines approx. 220–221, trans. by Charles Johnston, in The Demon, 1983, pp. 130–35)

The demon’s confession, with its tonal collapse from arrogance to grief, suggests that his shadow-self contains the remnants of human emotion—repressed but irrepressible. His desire for salvation and connection, despite being denied, haunts his identity. This dual structure—love and curse, desire and denial, human and demonic—generates intense psychological tension throughout the poem. In both Secret Voice and The Demon, the “shadow” figure functions not only as a metaphor for repressed trauma but also as a poetic device through which Romantic subjectivity confronts its own internal divisions.

Baratashvili’s Secret Voice departs from a classical linear narrative structure and instead adopts a rhythmic and cyclical form aligned with the nature of the “voice”. The “secret voice”, which initially emerges as a vague internal unease, gradually transforms into a metaphysical guide—a transformation structurally reminiscent of the epiphanic voice motif found in Georgian oral culture, where such voices typically signal the onset of a hero’s confrontation with destiny (Milorava 2017, pp. 318–19).

Original (Georgian):

“ნუ თუ კმა ესე არს კმა დევნისა

შეუწყალისა სინიდისისა?....”

Translation:

“Could this voice be the cry

of a cursed and merciless soul?!”

(Lines approx. 15–16, author’s own translation from the Georgian original, based on Baratashvili 1895, p. 7)

Here, the tension between “შეუწყალისა” (merciless) and “სინიდისისა” (conscience) produces an affective dissonance that resonates beyond lexical meaning. The voice is not merely narrative content but functions as a sonic structuring principle: its recurring presence organizes the temporal unfolding of the poem. In this way, Secret Voice exemplifies how lyric form can embody metaphysical themes not only through imagery but through rhythm and intonation—aligning the reader with the speaker’s spiritual unease.

In Lermontov’s The Demon, the demon similarly experiences this voice as a vehicle for inner collapse and dramatic reckoning with the past:

Original (Russian):

“Оставь меня, дух oбмана!”

Translation:

“Leave me, oh evil spirit!”

(Line approx. 280–281, translation by Charles Johnston, in Lermontov, The Demon, 1983, pp. 130–31)

The imperative oставь (leave) and the noun oбмана (deceit) introduce a desperate tonal rupture, echoing the structure of plea and alienation. This utterance, while directed outward, functions as a moment of internal implosion—signalling the fragmentation of the self.

In both poems, the “voice” figure operates not merely as an element of interior monologue but as a multifaceted structural device that both triggers and resolves moments of narrative crisis. As such, it forms the rhythmic core of the text—organizing the poem’s dramatic movement while expressing the psychological density of the Romantic subject’s crisis.

The following table offers a comparative summary of the core narrative, representational, and psychological elements of The Demon and Secret Voice. While both texts share dialogic narrative structures and themes of internal division, the function of the voice diverges in accordance with contextual and cultural differences. Lermontov’s demon, as a “fallen angel” severed from the divine, embodies metaphysical solitude and spiritual ruin, whereas Baratashvili’s “secret voice” serves as an intuitive figure of transformation that initiates confrontation with the unconscious. In this light, the ambiguity surrounding the source of the voice deepens narrative tension in both poems, positioning them as precursors to modern psychological poetry. The table systematically visualizes these parallels and divergences, as summarized in

Table 1. Comparative analysis of the demon and secret voice in terms of narrative, archetype, and function of voice.

Analytical Category	The Demon (Lermontov)	Secret Voice (Baratashvili)
Narrative Structure	The voice of the demon merges with that of the narrator; the poetic subject is identified with the inner voice.	The narrator is under the influence of an external and ambiguous voice; the subject is fragmented and directionless.
Function of the Voice	Symbol of metaphysical solitude and estrangement from the divine.	Catalyst for intuitive transformation, inner conflict, and the dissolution of the self.
Psychological Tension	The demon, both tempter and condemned to loneliness, embodies internal division.	The inner voice, as a representation of the unconscious, disrupts the integrity of the self and induces alienation.
Freudian/Jungian Framework	Can be interpreted through Freud’s Unheimlich (the uncanny) and Jung’s “shadow self”.	Jung’s shadow archetype directly explains the function of the inner voice in the poem.
Narrative Form	A linear, dramatic metaphysical narrative structure.	Cyclical, rhythmic structure aligned with the nature of the voice.
Cultural Context	Constructed around the “fallen angel” myth shaped by European Romanticism.	Embeds a local poetic form based on the “epiphanic voice” motif of Georgian oral tradition.
Representative Figure	The fallen angel: both seductive and tragic.	Ambiguous inner voice: simultaneously a guide and an object of fear.
Consequential Function	Spiritual collapse and metaphysical isolation.	A metaphysical awareness that initiates the process of transformation.

.

4.3. The Uncanny Voice of the Romantic Self: A Psychoanalytic and Ontological Approach

The “secret voice” figure that emerges in Baratashvili’s Secret Voice is not merely an aesthetic element; it serves as a psychoanalytic and ontological marker that reveals the fragmented structure of the self. Freud’s concept of the Unheimlich (the uncanny) provides a useful theoretical framework in this context. According to Freud, the uncanny arises when something once familiar, but repressed, suddenly resurfaces. That which was once known becomes alien and disturbing upon its return. Thus, the inner voice becomes simultaneously intimate and eerily estranged for the subject (Freud 1919, pp. 241–45). In the poem, this experience materializes in the subject’s sense of alienation from their own inner voice. As Freud wrote, “The uncanny is the return of the repressed” (p. 244).

Original (Georgian):

“მაგრამ მე მსხედრსა ჩემსა ვერ ვჰპოვებ,

და მით კაეშანს ვერღა ვიშორებ!…”

“ნუ თუ კმა ესე არს კმა დევნისა

შეუწყალისა სინიდისისა?”

Translation:

“But I can no longer find peace within myself,

And thus I cannot part with sorrow…

Could this voice be the judgment of Heaven,

Or the fate of desperate souls?!”

(Lines approx. 15–18, trans. by the author from Baratashvili 1895, p. 7)

This passage encapsulates the psychological and metaphysical disquiet at the heart of Secret Voice. The semantic tension between “ზეციური განკითხვა” (heavenly judgment) and “სასოწარკვეთილი სულის ხვედრი” (fate of desperate souls) constructs a metaphysical dualism, blurring divine determinism with existential despair. Sonically, the repetition of open Georgian vowels (ა, უ, ო) generates a soft, echo-like cadence, which enhances the ethereal, almost otherworldly atmosphere of the voice. Yet semantically, the lines are profoundly unsettling—producing precisely the effect Freud identifies as das Unheimliche (the uncanny): the return of the repressed in the form of an unlocatable, inner “other” (Freud 1919, pp. 241–45). In this sense, the voice becomes not just a narrative presence but a psychic rupture, drawing the speaker into a space of trembling uncertainty between judgement and destiny.

This ambiguity signifies not only metaphysical inquiry but also a poetic rendering of ontological insecurity. The voice is not an external entity but a manifestation of the self’s disintegration—where interiority becomes unfamiliar. In this way, Secret Voice embodies a Romantic poetics of inner estrangement, echoing psychoanalytic models of repression and existential fracture.

Jung’s notion of the “shadow archetype” allows for interpreting this poetic voice as a representation of the repressed and unacknowledged aspects of the self. According to Jung, the shadow is a dark component of the personality rejected by the conscious ego but sustained within the personal and collective unconscious. This shadow, comprising repressed desires, fears, and shame, becomes a crucial element in the individual’s process of transformation (Jung 1959a, p. 266). As Jung stated, “One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious” (Jung 1959b, p. 266). Within this framework, the inner voice in the poem may be interpreted as a dark summons from the unconscious.

In Secret Voice, this shadow manifests not as a figure, but as a psychic condition—an internal unrest that the speaker cannot escape:

Original (Georgian):

“მაგრამ მე მსხედრსა ჩემსა ვერ ვჰპოვებ,

და მით კაეშანს ვერღა ვიშორებ!…”

Translation:

“But I can no longer find peace within myself,

And thus I cannot part with sorrow…”

(Lines approx. 5–6, trans. by the author from Baratashvili 1895, p. 7)

The repetition of negation (“ვერ ვჰპოვებ”, “ვერღა ვიშორებ”) and the internal rhythm formed by soft m and ch sounds evoke a quiet inner turbulence. Rather than articulating an external voice, these lines suggest a shadow that is bodily and affective—one that clings to the subject, resisting resolution. Jung’s archetype of the shadow is not always voiced; sometimes, it appears as a condition of inner paralysis, where sorrow becomes inseparable from the self.

At this point, Kristeva’s concept of the chora becomes relevant. According to Kristeva, the semiotic chora is a pre-linguistic space of rhythmic and instinctual experience, reflecting the early, nonverbal relationship between the infant and the maternal body (Kristeva 1980, p. 95). The voice in the poem functions as a multilayered experience that transcends stable identity boundaries and emerges from this pre-symbolic dimension. The recurring sonic pulses and indeterminate syntax in the Georgian verses reinforce the chora’s affective logic—a space of poetic rhythm and instinctual memory.

Similarly, in Lermontov’s The Demon, the demon—both a fallen angel and a seeker of redemption—represents a poetic manifestation of the uncanny. His voice oscillates between angelic sublimity and demonic seduction:

Original (Russian):

“Я тoт, чьё слoвo—смерть и мука,

Я тoт, чьё взoр лишает надежды…”

Translation:

“I am the one whose word is death and torment,

I am the one whose gaze destroys hope…”

(Lines approx. 216–218, trans. by Charles Johnston, in Lermontov, The Demon, 1983, pp. 120–30)

The collocation of смерть и мука (“death and torment”) with взoр лишает надежды (“gaze destroys hope”) constructs a poetic image of metaphysical collapse. Phonetically, the repeated ч, р, and ж sounds introduce a sense of harsh intensity and tonal disintegration. This echoing despair embodies the uncanny rupture Freud described as the return of the repressed. The demon’s voice thus becomes a symbol of existential doubling—representing both seduction and annihilation, both subject and its fractured double.

4.4. Negative Sublimation in Romantic Poetics: Ascent Through Collapse

In Romantic poetics, collapse is not merely a mark of failure or loss but also a potential site of metaphysical transformation and sublimity. In both Lermontov’s The Demon and Baratashvili’s Secret Voice, this paradoxical structure emerges as an ontological tension entwined with the subject’s existential conflict. In these poems, the fall becomes a prerequisite for inner awareness and metaphysical elevation—a process that can be theorized as negative sublimation.

Lermontov’s demon, a fallen figure cast out from the divine order, is exiled to the earthly realm. Yet, this exile is not merely a divine punishment; it becomes a space for awareness at the limits of being. The demon’s inner voice reflects ontological questioning and existential yearning through his search for love and redemption:

Original (Russian):

“Я жажду любви, я прoщенья прoшу—

Нo в мире для меня нет спасенья…”

Translation:

“I thirst for love, I seek forgiveness,

But in this world there is no redemption for me…”

(Lines approx. 150–152, trans. by Charles Johnston, in Lermontov, The Demon, 1983, pp. 120–30).

The repetition of “я” (I) signals existential isolation and desire. The word “жажду” (thirst) conveys a spiritual deprivation, while “нет спасенья” (no redemption) echoes a metaphysical dead end. These lines merge confession and curse, portraying the demon not only as a fallen figure but also as a tragic subject suspended between longing and annihilation.

In these lines, the demon appears both as a cursed figure exiled from the divine realm and as a tragic subject in search of connection. His fall transforms into a form of inner sublimity, one that seeks truth even within a nihilistic void.

While no definitive archival or textual evidence confirms that Lermontov and Baratashvili ever met in person, the thematic convergence and temporal proximity of their writings invite cautious speculation regarding a possible poetic encounter. Lermontov was exiled to the Caucasus in the late 1830s and spent extended periods in Tiflis and surrounding regions. Baratashvili, who lived in Tiflis during that time and was actively engaged in literary circles, may have had access to circulating Russian manuscripts or oral accounts of Lermontov’s works, especially The Demon, which was already known in manuscript form before its publication.

These historical proximities, coupled with the poetic parallels between lines 273–299 of The Demon and the concluding stanzas of Secret Voice, suggest a dialogical proximity that exceeds mere coincidence. Rather than positing direct influence, this affinity may be better understood as intertextual resonance within a Romantic literary field shaped by metaphysical solitude and historical fragmentation.

In Secret Voice, the “hidden voice” serves as a catalyst for the speaker’s internal dissolution and confrontation with the unconscious. The voice arrives as a tragic summons from beyond time:

Original (Georgian):

“ანგელოზი ხარ, მფარველი ჩემი,

ან თუ ეშმაკი, მაცდური ჩემი,

ვინცა ხარ, მარქვი, რას მომისწავებ,

სიცოცხლეს ჩემსა რას განუზედავ?”

Translation:

“Are you my angel or my demon—

Or are you the devil, my tempter?

Whoever you are, tell me: what do you foretell?

What have you declared over my life?”

(Lines approx. 19–22, trans. by the author from Baratashvili 1895, p. 8)

The symmetrical opposition between “ანგელოზი/ეშმაკი” (angel/demon) and “დამცველი/მცდუნებელი” (guardian/tempter) reveals an ontological ambiguity embedded in the poetic voice. This ambiguity mirrors what Freud (1919, pp. 241–45) described as das Unheimliche—the uncanny return of the repressed, where the familiar inner voice suddenly appears alien and disquieting. Suspended between intimacy and estrangement, the speaker inhabits a liminal space in which divine revelation becomes indistinguishable from existential fear.

Here, the voice becomes both a resonance of suppressed personal memory and a poetic echo of collective tragedy. Its essence aligns with Kristeva’s chora, where meaning is displaced by rhythmic resonance and unconscious intensity (Kristeva 1980, p. 95). This process of negative sublimation is not confined to individual experience but also bears the traces of historical and cultural trauma. Edward Said’s concept of wounded consciousness is illuminating in this regard: The collapse of the individual self becomes a poetic manifestation of collective repression (Said 1993, pp. 17–18).

The demon’s love for Tamara also symbolizes a longing for wholeness, but this quest culminates in her death—a moment that represents, beyond loss, the demon’s confrontation with divine justice:

Original (Russian):

“Она умерла… и я oстался oдин,

В пустыне, где нет прoщения…”

Translation:

“She died… and I was left alone,

In a desert where there is no forgiveness…”

(Lines approx. 350–360, trans. by Charles Johnston, in Lermontov, The Demon, 1983, pp. 130–35)

The stark juxtaposition of “умерла” (died) and “пустыне” (desert) creates a barren spiritual landscape, symbolizing the demon’s isolation not just from others but from grace itself. The ellipses signal both loss and eternity—a silence that is both personal and cosmic.

Similarly, Baratashvili’s poem concludes not with deliverance but with silence. Yet, this silence is not the end of speech; it marks a desire to move beyond language itself. Roland Barthes’ notion of the death of the text is instructive here: The text abandons fixed meaning and opens itself to a multiplicity of interpretations (Barthes 1977, p. 185). In this way, The Demon and Secret Voice engage the dialectic between collapse and sublimity as an aesthetic form. Both poets question the possibility of redemption within destruction, thereby rendering the Romantic subject’s metaphysical solitude poetically visible.

4.5. Not Influence, but Typological Affinity: A Conceptual Interpretation of Poetic Parallels

To explain the poetic parallels between The Demon and Secret Voice, invoking only the notions of “influence” or “impact” may be insufficient. While the two poems differ in their historical contexts, national literary traditions, and cultural reference systems, they display striking thematic and structural commonalities. Therefore, their relationship is better understood not as a direct intertextual link established through influence or translation but rather through Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s concept of Weltliteratur (world literature) and the accompanying idea of typological affinity (Goethe 1986).

Typological affinity refers to the convergence of independent literary works that emerge under similar historical and cultural conditions and share archetypal, poetic, or ideological structures. Both Lermontov and Baratashvili articulate the Romantic subject’s metaphysical solitude, inner fragmentation, and existential questioning within their national contexts—yet through overlapping poetic forms. This phenomenon may be framed within Jung’s theory of the collective unconscious. According to Jung, myths, images, and narrative patterns recurring across diverse cultures are reflections of humanity’s shared psychic heritage (Jung [1959] 1968, p. 88). In both The Demon and Secret Voice, themes such as the epiphanic voice, lost love, and fall and solitude point to an archetypal common ground.

Kristeva’s theory of intertextuality conceptualizes such overlaps not merely as quotations or influences but as multi-layered dialogues among ideological, historical, and psychological domains. For Kristeva, texts exist in dynamic relationships with other texts and with the broader cultural contexts that surround them (Kristeva 1980, p. 75). From this perspective, Secret Voice is not a derivative of The Demon; rather, it articulates a similar poetic problematic from within a different cultural memory.

Walter Benjamin’s notion of aura further illuminates the originality of these poems. Both works construct an aesthetic atmosphere not limited to personal emotion but encompassing historical trauma, metaphysical inquiry, and the subconscious dimensions of culture (Benjamin 2003, p. 222). The source of this atmosphere lies in the shared psychic and ideological infrastructure of Romantic literature.

From the vantage point of Bakhtin’s theory of dialogic structure, the relationship between these poems should not be seen as hierarchical or unidirectional but rather as resonant poetic voices engaging in reciprocal dialogue. Both texts revolve around shared existential questions: Who am I? Who called me? What is the origin of this voice?

In conclusion, rather than presuming a direct intertextual transmission between The Demon and Secret Voice, it is more productive to interpret them through typological parallels, archetypal themes, and universal poetic concerns. This approach aligns with contemporary methods in comparative literature and offers a reading that respects the aesthetic autonomy of both poets. The poetic resonance between the two can thus be viewed as the echo of shared metaphysical inquiries within two distinct cultural consciousnesses. While Lermontov’s physical presence in Georgia and Baratashvili’s intellectual familiarity with Russian poetry are historically relevant, the relationship between the texts is not one of quotation, but of simultaneous poetic consciousness emerging across different geographies. Therefore, resonance, rather than influence, is the more precise term with which to describe this connection.

5. Conclusions

This study explored the comparative relationship between Mikhail Lermontov’s The Demon and Nikoloz Baratashvili’s Secret Voice through the lenses of intertextuality, archetypal criticism, and postcolonial poetics. Both poems address central themes of Romantic subjectivity—loneliness, estrangement, and metaphysical unrest—within distinct yet resonant cultural frameworks. However, these parallels are not reducible to direct influence or thematic coincidence. Instead, they emerge from deeper typological affinities, poetic mirroring, and shared archetypal vocabularies.

The Demon constructs a poetic universe shaped by Promethean and Luciferian figures, where rebellion and the desire for redemption intertwine, elevating personal tragedy to a cosmic scale. The poem reflects not only Russian Romanticism but also the broader tragic–aesthetic legacy of modern poetry. Formally, it employs iambic tetrameter, line-final masculine cadences, and caesurae to produce rhythmic control that paradoxically dramatizes internal collapse. Each symmetrical line-pair creates a structural mirror for the demon’s divided psyche.

In contrast, Secret Voice resists such regularity through free syllabic rhythm, enjambment, and soft consonantal flow, crafting a meditative structure marked by sonic hesitation. The repetition of breath-like phonemes (e.g., /მ/, /ვ/, /ხ/) and syntactic suspension mimics a drifting consciousness. This divergence is not merely stylistic; it reveals distinct ontologies of Romantic descent, one dramatized through forceful rhythm, the other whispered through formal dissolution.

The application of Jungian archetypes—particularly the shadow—further clarified how both poems dramatize psychic descent. In The Demon, the shadow is an external adversary whose voice expresses existential exile. In Secret Voice, it is internalized as a whispering presence inhabiting liminality. Kristeva’s concept of the semiotic chora helps explain how this voice trembles beneath symbolic language, while Frye’s structure of Romantic mythos—especially descent without closure—emerges not only thematically but rhythmically, through hesitation, fragmentation, and loss of prosodic anchoring.

The recurring “voice” in both poems functions as both a presemantic vibration and a historical memory within the poetic plane. Accordingly, the parallels between the texts are not merely thematic; they are grounded in a mutual poetic dynamic shaped by formal strategies and archetypal traces. The original contribution of this article lies in treating The Demon and Secret Voice not only through comparative literary analysis but also through a conceptual framework that highlights both the universal structures of Romantic literature and the unique formal identities of national poetic traditions. By tracing archetype and voice as shared poetic devices across imperial boundaries, this reading reveals intertextual and interformal resonances that extend beyond influence.

Ultimately, these poems reflect two poles of Romantic consciousness: one outwardly rebellious and mythically exalted, the other inwardly contemplative and ritually subdued. Their juxtaposition reveals how poetic form and archetypal symbolism interact across cultural and linguistic borders, enabling deeper insight into the psychic, formal, and aesthetic tensions of 19th century Eurasian Romanticism.

Future studies might extend such poetic dialogues by examining other Romantic paradigms across regions such as the Caucasus, the Balkans, and Central Europe, thereby offering broader historical and cultural insights into the relationship between transcultural literary structures and local symbolic economies.