Author: Mikhail Krivitsky

The great Hebrew poet, translator, and physician Saul Tchernichovsky was born on August 20, 1875, in the village of Mikhailovka, Tavricheskaya Province. He grew up a gifted child: by the age of five he could read in Russian, by seven in Hebrew, and by ten he was studying the Pentateuch with a private tutor. Saul received his Jewish education at a modernized heder (religious primary school) opened in Mikhailovka by melameds (Jewish teachers) who had come from the Belarusian-Lithuanian provinces. One of the methods for teaching Hebrew there was translation, and the boy regularly translated texts from K. D. Ushinsky’s reader The Native Word into Hebrew. His general education he received at a Russian girls’ school – the only school available in the village.

By the age of ten, he already had a good command of classical Jewish literature and began writing poetry in Hebrew, compiled a Russian-Hebrew dictionary, and even wrote a play. A book inherited from his student aunt – A. V. Grigoriev’s Three Kingdoms of Nature – sparked his interest in the natural sciences. Thus, two lifelong passions were born: for literature and for the natural sciences.

“What pushed me toward writing Hebrew poems was the desire for there to be songs in the Hebrew language as well. At the time, I called anything that could be sung a song. I wanted to sing Pushkin’s poem ‘The Little Bird of God Knows No Care’ in Hebrew. Despite all my efforts, I couldn’t succeed,” Tchernichovsky later recalled.

At the age of fifteen, Saul moved to Odessa, and a few years later enrolled in the Gochman Jewish Commercial School. There, he studied European languages – English, German, French – and also independently learned Italian, Greek, and Latin. His knowledge of languages allowed him to read European literary classics in the original: J. W. Goethe, H. Heine, C. Meyer, A. Chénier, J. M. de Heredia, W. Shakespeare, G. Byron, P. Shelley, R. Burns, among others.

In Odessa, Tchernichovsky met Joseph Klausner, a future scholar and literary critic. This friendship profoundly influenced his literary path. It was Klausner who convinced the young poet to write exclusively in Hebrew and helped publish and popularize his works.

Together with Joseph Klausner and N. Slusch, Tchernichovsky became a member of the organization “Sfatenu Iitanu” (“Our Language Is with Us”), founded in Odessa in 1891. The organization advocated for the revival of Hebrew as a living, modern language. Starting in 1892, Saul began publishing poems in Jewish journals based in New York and Krakow, and six years later, his first poetry collection, “Fantasies and Melodies” (Hezyonot u-Manginot), was published in Warsaw.

In 1899, Tchernichovsky attempted to enroll at the Novorossiysk University, but due to the quota limiting the admission of Jews to higher education institutions, he was unsuccessful. He then left for Europe, where he studied natural sciences and medicine at the universities of Heidelberg (1899–1903) and Lausanne (1903–1906). During this time, he also attended a number of courses in philosophy and literature. While studying medicine, Saul worked in the clinics of Professors Erb (internal and nervous diseases) and Petersen (surgery).

In Heidelberg, Tchernichovsky met Melania Karlovna von Gosias-Gorbachevich, a fellow student who would later become his wife and the mother of their only daughter. Melania had Ukrainian, Polish, and German ancestry. While courting her, the young Tchernichovsky wrote some of his finest love poems.

While in Europe, Tchernichovsky continued to write. The works created during this period were included in two collections: Fantasies and Melodies and Poems. In Heidelberg, he also began developing the genres of epic poetry in Hebrew – the ballad, the narrative poem, and the idyll – to which he would return repeatedly throughout his literary career. Tchernichovsky became the first Jewish poet to celebrate the beauty of the earthly world, infusing national poetry with elements of Hellenism. His works were dominated by themes of love and nature, filled with the joy of life and youth. He particularly excelled in idylls, written in an epic style.

“The true singer of light, beauty, and love is Saul Tchernichovsky,” wrote Joseph Klausner. “He is the most Hellenistic of the Jews… Not a trace of whining or sentimentality. Fiery passion – that is his element. The joy of life – his deity. Each of his verses breathes with the fresh scent of the forests of blessed Ukraine and the enchanting steppes of Crimea, from where he hails.”

The idylls “Vareniki” and “The Covenant of Abraham”, published by the poet, became milestones in the history of Hebrew poetry. The idyll “Brit Mila” (Circumcision) earned admiration not only from ordinary readers but also from the famous Hebrew poet Hayim Nahman Bialik.

In 1906, Tchernichovsky received the title of Doctor of Medicine in Lausanne and returned to Russia. From 1906 to 1907, he worked as a physician in Melitopol, and from September 1907 to July 1909, he served in the Kharkov Provincial Zemstvo. He continued his literary activities: translating European classics into Hebrew and writing poetry. In 1910, the poet moved to St. Petersburg, where he earned his living through medical practice.

After a trip to Finland, he became deeply engaged in translating the Finnish epic “Kalevala”, for which he specifically learned the Finnish language. In general, Tchernichovsky had a lightning-fast ability to master foreign languages using his own system. During this period, he also translated the poems of R. Dimmel, H. W. Longfellow’s “The Song of Hiawatha”, and a collection of vocal repertoire from operas and oratorios by Russian and German composers.

From 1911, Tchernichovsky collaborated with the editorial team of the Jewish Encyclopedia in Russian, published by F. A. Brockhaus and I. A. Efron. He also contributed articles to periodicals on issues related to Hebrew pronunciation, as well as on botanical and scientific terminology in Hebrew.

In the autumn of 1912, Tchernichovsky traveled to Kyiv, where, with permission from the Ministry of Public Education, he took a comprehensive external exam before the Medical Commission of St. Vladimir University. Successfully passing the examination, he was awarded, on October 16, the title of “Doctor with all rights and privileges.”

Thanks to this qualification, Tchernichovsky was able to obtain a position in St. Petersburg as a freelance assistant at the Clinical Institute of Grand Duchess Elena Pavlovna, under Professor Vladimir Adolfovich Shtange. The Elena Institute was a scientific, educational, medical, and charitable institution – essentially a clinical hospital of its time. Professor Shtange headed the Department of Physical Methods of Treatment and Non-Pharmaceutical Therapy – the first and only such department in Russia at the time.

While working at the institute, Tchernichovsky also practiced privately and received patients at Dr. Saul Moiseevich Warshavchik’s private clinic, located at 37 Zabalkansky Prospect.

World War I brought unprecedented global upheaval. However, in the summer of 1914, Dr. and poet Saul Tchernichovsky could hardly have imagined its consequences. On the contrary, at first, the looming conflict seemed to promise the young physician nothing more than valuable medical experience.

When general mobilization was announced, a medical inspector from St. Petersburg called Samuel Warshavchik’s clinic and invited Tchernichovsky to assist with the work of a medical commission at one of the city’s mobilization points.

From the conversation, Tchernichovsky understood that refusal was not really an option, but he cautiously remarked:
“Inspector, I’ve never examined conscripts before, and I’m afraid I may not have the necessary knowledge.”
“Don’t worry! You’ll be working with two experienced physicians – specialists in their field. They’ll help you…”

The next day, Tchernichovsky arrived at the designated location. Each man was asked by a feldsher (medical assistant): “Healthy?” Upon receiving a “yes,” the feldsher would stamp “healthy” on the form and pass the man along to an officer. Those deemed “unhealthy” were sent to the military medical commission for further assessment.

Sometimes, if the feldsher noticed clear signs that a conscript was unfit for service, he would exempt him immediately. In more ambiguous cases, the commission would step in to make the final decision.

In the examination room, Tchernichovsky met two “colleagues” – large men in military caps with cockades, heavyset, with military-style mustaches and stern expressions. They were glad to see the newcomer.

Tchernichovsky immediately admitted that he was unfamiliar with the “Schedule of Diseases”, the official guide for determining fitness for military service. He agreed to handle the paperwork until he got up to speed. His flexibility and level-headedness quickly won the respect and sympathy of his colleagues.

Over the course of several days, around two hundred men claimed they were unfit for military service – but only about twenty were actually declared unfit by the commission. Most of the conscripts were peasants. Their natural health and endurance enabled them to take on hard labor jobs in the city, and they were generally considered quite suitable for military service. Those deemed unfit were usually native townsmen – minor clerks from grocery shops and warehouses.

The two military doctors conducted the physical exams, while Tchernichovsky recorded the final verdict in the documents, after which all three signed the forms. At first glance, Saul’s colleagues didn’t seem overly harsh: conscripts with serious illnesses were indeed excused from service. But Tchernichovsky could not help intervening when he witnessed clear injustice.

One day, a man entered the examination room – tall, strong, and seemingly healthy at first glance, except… his left eyelid drooped over his eye, and a hideous scar marred the cheek below it. The disfigurement was the result of a romantic entanglement: an angry lover had once thrown acid at him, leaving him blind in one eye.
“Fit for service!” the doctors declared without batting an eye.
“Excuse me…” Tchernichovsky muttered, embarrassed. “A soldier needs both eyes. How will he shoot?”
“Ahh, colleague, that’s not a problem at all,” the other doctors hastened to reassure Saul. “When you go hunting, you close your left eye to aim, right? Well, this man’s left eye is always closed. That means he’s always ready to shoot!”
“Still,” Tchernichovsky objected, “I’ve never in my life seen a soldier blind in one eye.”
“In wartime, my dear fellow, everything is different!”

Out of natural modesty, Saul didn’t argue further with his colleagues, and the one-eyed recruit was passed on to the officer. But on his way home, Tchernichovsky bought a copy of the “Schedule of Diseases” for ten kopecks – and soon found the relevant article: he had been right.

The next morning, Tchernichovsky showed his discovery to the military doctors, and they, slightly embarrassed, were forced to reverse their decision. The one-eyed Romeo was located and, as we would say today, immediately discharged. He did not hide his joy.

The colleagues gained respect for Saul and, citing being too busy, even entrusted him with finishing the examinations alone. Tchernichovsky examined several more conscripts and was just about to “close up shop” when there was another knock at the door.

A lively man of about thirty entered and claimed to suffer from consumption (tuberculosis), presenting receipts from the well-known tuberculosis sanatorium Khalila in the Vyborg Province. Tchernichovsky examined him but couldn’t find a single sign of illness.

The conscript then asked the doctor to postpone the decision until the following morning. Promptly at nine, the “sick” man was back at the door. This time, he complained of a toothache. Saul asked him to open his mouth – and was stunned: the man was missing many teeth. A dentist had clearly pulled them recently and “without much delicacy,” leaving behind fragments that had already caused noticeable swelling.

By that point, Tchernichovsky had thoroughly studied the Schedule of Diseases and knew: the absence of eleven teeth was enough for exemption. Evidently, the conscript had read the same manual – he had had twelve teeth removed, just to be safe.

The man’s courage and determination impressed Saul, and he decided to “forget” the visit from the day before. In the conscript’s file, a note appeared: “Unfit for service.”