Compare And Contrast This Way For The Gas Ladies And Gentlemen

Both “Requiem” by Anna Akhmatova and “This Way for the Gas, Ladies and
Gentlemen” by Tadeuz Borowski, paint a picture of absolute terror and disparity during specific
times in history; however, the two couldn’t be more different in terms of perspective and language used. In “Requiem”, Akhmatova’s words show that she is grounded, accepting, and sure of her predicament; yet she uses poetic language and descriptive imagery, giving her story a fantastical hue. Borowski however, uses a more straight forward approach in his story telling. That’s not to say that the language he uses isn’t beautiful, but it’s not lyrical or stylish. Yet, Borowski’s main character at one point questions his reality, making the two texts opposites in a multitude of ways.
There’s no mistaking Akhmatova’s acceptance of the nightmare she lived throughout “Requiem”. She writes “No, not under the vault of alien skies, And not under the shelter of alien wings—I was with my people then, There, where my people, unfortunately were” (Akhmatova 568). The speaker, here, clues us in to the very real horrors her and

her people are facing in their own country. These lines are said with a “matter of fact” tonality that lets us know that she is aware of where she is and the events transpiring around her. In the following lines from
Akhmatova’s prologue, “The stars of death stood above us And innocent Russia writhed Under bloody boots And under the tires of the Black Marias” (569), we are given a clear sense of the bloody reign of Stalin and the terror Akhmatova dealt with while living in Russia. “The tires of Black Marias,” or police cars, was a sound that made her heart stop on one too many occasions
for she never knew when the people she loved would be ripped away from her side and sent to prison.
Unfortunately for Akhmatova, she saw the death of two husbands and the imprisonment of her son. Akhmatova writes, “This woman is ill This woman is alone Husband in the grave, son in prison, Say a prayer for me” (570). This was her reality and she understood that imprisonment and executions happen on a daily, if not hourly, basis. At one point Akhmatova writes, “Today I
have so much to do: I must kill memory once and for all, I must turn my soul to stone, I must learn to live again—“ (571).

The ordeal she has been facing has wiped away any trace of humanity, but to regain the sense of who she is she must “kill” the emotions and memories and says as much in the following lines; “And I’ve finally realized That I must give in, Overhearing myself Raving as if it were somebody else” (572). By the end of the poem, Akhmatova realizes a sense of community in their (hers and her people’s) shared suffering and she writes, “And I pray not for myself alone, But for all those who stood there with me In cruel cold, and in July’s heat, At that blind, red wall” (574). Yet for all her acceptance of the truth of the world around her, Akhmatova has a hard time describing it plainly; rather, the world she describes sounds like something that would only happen in her

nightmares.
Akhmatova uses beautiful language to give her series of poems a fantastical hue regardless of the disparity we can see surrounding her. She writes, “Mountains bow down to this grief, Mighty rivers cease to flow” (Akhmatova 568), using personification to convey grief rather
than simply stating what is. In II, Akhmatova again uses personification in the following lines, “Quietly flows the quiet Don, Yellow moon slips into a home. He slips in with cap askew, He sees a shadow, yellow moon” (570). This section of her series of poems is probably the most sorrowful as it depicts the imprisonment of her son. But again, instead of simply stating the
series of events that transpire, she uses lyrical and rhythmic words in her poem that is modeled after a “chastuska (a short folk song). The word “Don” is also used, which is another name for “the great Russian river, often celebrated in folk songs” (Norton Anthology 570). In “The Sentence”, Akhmatova uses a simile to compare the inanimate and the living in the following lines, “Unless...Summer’s ardent rustling Is like a festival outside my window” (572). In “Death”, Akhmatova accepts the possibility of only escaping the horrors she lives through,
through death alone and she writes, “The North Star shines. And the final horror dims The blue luster of beloved eyes” (572), using illustrative and appealing language to emphasize her thoughts. And finally, in “Crucifixion”, Akhmatova compares her son to Jesus and herself to Mary and writes, “A choir of angels sang the praises of that momentous hour, And the heavens dissolved in fire” (573). Throughout it all, Akhmatova does not beat around the bush of her settings and the reality she’s in. But in doing so, she relies on far more fantastic and artistic language to set the scenery, providing the otherwise grisly story with a level of beauty.