Vasile Voiculescu’s prisons
Vasile Voiculescu was born, according to family testimony, on the night of 12-13 October 1884, in the family of Costache and Sultana Voicu. The name Voiculescu was given to him in his first school records. He attended the school in Pleșcoi and the high schools “BP Hașdeu” in Buzău and “Gheorghe Lazăr” in Bucharest. After a year at the Faculty of Letters and Philosophy, he entered the Faculty of Medicine, graduating in 1909 and defending his bachelor’s thesis in surgery the following year. He went on to specialise in internal medicine and epidemiology[1].
He “devoured” Romanian literature from secondary school, then, in high school, books in French and the poetic art of Eminescu. He discovered psychology and morality, reading Schopenhauer and Upanshade, then everything to do with spirituality, as he confessed in 1935: “From my first years of literature, psychophysics and psychopathology, beyond Sergius, Wundt and Hofding, led me to medicine, in the footsteps of Vaschide, Pierre Janet and William James, with his religious experience. […] I ran to everything that at that time […] tempted a mind weaned on faith and nourished by science: materialism, positivism, evolutionism, Littré, Claude Bernard, Aug. Comte, Darwin, Spencer. At the beginning of the world, we said with them, there must have been God, just as at the beginning of the tree there was the seed. But who still looks for the seed in the telluric chaos from which the stem sprang? God is above, in the fruit of our branches. So away with the pomp and the archives of divine cosmologies. But the branches remained more barren for me. Disgruntled, I left and turned to the enemy. I got to know the Kabala through studies, especially those of Frank and Karpe, I read the Sefer with its commentaries, I practised on the Roscrucians of Péladan, I researched the enlightenment of the unknown philosopher; I dwelt for a long time on Theosophy, from Gnosis and Pista Sophia, through Fabre d’Olivet, Saint Yves d’Alveidre, Eliphas Lévy and Papus to the modern Schuré, Rudolf Steiner, Madame Blawatzky, Annie Bessant and how many others.
But I have not joined any secret society, I have not joined any sect and I am not an initiate, for fear of restricting my freedom.
“What I can say, in conclusion, is that my scientific training, my medical studies, my knowledge of philosophy and all my achievements in other fields of culture, art and literature, instead of distancing me, have brought me closer to the faith. One way or another, I could have been a naive atheist, a negative simplist. The more multifaceted, the more room there was for full experiences, new points of view, the interference of doctrines, the possibility of comparisons, more light. And above all, the synthesis that faith must necessarily lie at the foundation of the spirit of the normal man”[2].
On 21 February 1910, Vasile Voiculescu married Maria Mitescu, a medical student, with whom he had five children. In the same year, he was appointed doctor in a town in Gorj County, after which he took part in the War of Rebellion as head of the 6th Mobile Hospital. He fell ill with exanthematous typhus, typhoid fever and jaundice as a result of caring for patients suffering from these diseases in the refugee camp in Moldova, although he had refused leave to recuperate[3]. For his bravery during the war, Vasile Voiculescu was awarded the Star of Romania with Swords. He was also awarded the “Cross of Sanitary Merit”, 1st class, in 1925 for his services to public health.
Vasile Voiculescu became famous for his responsible approach to medicine. He gave a series of radio lectures on public health and published several volumes on green pharmacology. For Voiculescu, as he confessed, “medicine is not a profession, it is a passion”. Indeed, he was nicknamed “the holy unmercenary” and was much in demand. Voiculescu’s mission was to seek out the sick and the poor, to help them as much as he could, to alleviate their pain. He often told me,” says Constantin Daniel of Voiculescu, “that we should not let a day go by without doing good deeds, since the doctor, by the very nature of his profession, is in a privileged position from this point of view, since he can do such deeds very easily, without having to look very hard”[4].
“His treatments depended to a large extent on what he called “existential diagnosis”, which determined how the somatic disorder was reflected in the mental life of the patient, what social causes could have produced the illness, what abuses, what vices, what good or bad habits the sufferer had… Like the German physicians of the early 20th century, he admitted that an illness could be useful and should therefore be used by the doctor; for example, acute pneumonia could be invoked to persuade a patient to give up smoking, alcohol abuse or other harmful habits. Doctor Voiculescu did not give the patient a scientific diagnosis in sophisticated terms, but in the popular name of his illness, and above all he told him what was hurting him, what was bothering him and where the suffering was, and then what the symptoms of his illness were. Therefore, the prescribed treatment was followed with sanctity, which explains many of the therapeutic successes that Dr. Voiculescu achieved in the countryside, but also in Bucharest[5].
Hermit in the world
In 1922, he became a doctor and professor of hygiene at the Pompilian Institute in Bucharest and director of the 12th Medical Circumscription in the capital. About his medical activity in this chapter of his life we learn from the testimony of Dr. Constantin Daniel: “What was striking about Vasile Voiculescu was the seraphic kindness he knew how to show to everyone: he did not criticise anyone, did not find fault with anyone, did not blame anyone, always found excuses and understood everyone. The sympathy he showed for every patient he consulted was readily accepted by his patients, who adored him. He examined them carefully, prescribed medicines which he often brought himself, spoke words of encouragement and never forgot to leave them a small gift, be it money, food or clothing”[6].
As far as his literary activity is concerned, Vasile Voiculescu made his debut in “Convorbiri literare” in 1912 with the poem “Dorul”, and in 1916 with the volume “Poezii”, published by Poporul. After publishing several volumes of poetry, he became a member of the Society of Romanian Writers in 1920. From 1922 he was the director of the Cultural Foundation, and between 1927 and 1944 he collaborated with Nichifor Crainic’s “Gândirea”, where issue no. No. 7 of 1943 was dedicated to him. Also in 1927, Voiculescu was commissioned to direct the play “Măiastra fără inimă” (The Heartless Maid). From 1934, Vasile Voiculescu was director of cultural programmes at Radio Romania until 1946, when, according to some testimonies, he seems to have been purged[7].
On 22 November 1946, his wife died of a cerebral haemorrhage. In this episode of the great poet’s life, his son Ion Voiculescu recalls the following dialogue: “The day my mother died of a cerebral haemorrhage, he, who knew the outcome, took me to the pharmacy and on the way, in a small, thick rain, on the path of the gorge, I remember that he stopped me and said: ‘I want to ask you something and promise me that you’ll try to listen to me: Believe in God! (emphasis added, ANP)”.
After my mother’s death, […] my father changed his way of life, he became a hermit. He only left the house for his daily walks or to Cișmigiu. One day he told me that he had decided a long time ago to give up meat, but to his regret he saw that he had no choice but to eat what was cooked and what was cooked for him. He had set out to live a life without distractions, pleasures or even normal comforts. The stove was blocked with books and no fire was lit for 10 or 11 years”. In fact, the last stage of Vasile Voiculescu’s life begins now, as he will not publish anything else until the end of his life[8].
About Voiculescu as a true Christian we have the description of the writer Vlaicu Bârna, who met him in 1934 to ask him to collaborate in Zaharia Stancu’s magazine “Azi”: “I don’t remember the details of this meeting, but I was deeply moved by this man, whose appearance was the very embodiment of goodness, in the dry figure of a man whose cheek resembled the saints in icons. His beard and moustache were stubbled, short and white, like the profile of an Assyrian king in a print, unkempt and upright in the race of an Anahoret. His eyes were straight and open, his speech measured and, like the fine features of his face, he radiated a conquering humanity”[9].
The love for his fellow men is another constant characteristic of Voiculescu, as we have shown above. According to the same writer, Vlaicu Bârna, the great poet helped Jews during Antonescu’s reign: “The writer Ury Benador once mentioned in the pages of the “Literary Gazette” how, during the war years, Voiculescu gave him a meeting through his signature so that he could secretly give him a sum of money obtained from the radio under another name, since writers of Jewish origin were no longer allowed access to the press or radio broadcasts. He had done the same for Peltz, Alfred Margul Sperber, Mihail Sebastian, Aderca, Șerban and others”[10].
As early as 1946, Vasile Voiculescu attended the religious circle “The Burning Bush” at the Antim Monastery. Here he became friends with Father Agaton Sandu Tudor, Alexandru Mironescu[11], Benedict Ghiuș and later with Andrei Scrima. In fact, when the young theologian Scrima was librarian at the Patriarchal Library between 1953 and 1956, Vasile Voiculescu visited him almost every day, even though the “Burning Bush” Association had been dissolved by the state authorities in 1948. In his book Time of the Burning Bush, Andrei Scrima recalls Voiculescu’s presence at the intellectual meetings in Antim: “Beyond the acknowledged prestige of a cultural personality, we discovered the man at close quarters, in his presence of gentleness and intellectual elegance”[12].
Prison, borne with dignity
For maintaining these links with the intellectuals who had once frequented the “Burning Bush”, Vasile Voiculescu was arrested by the Security Service on the night of 4-5 August 1958, in the “Teodorescu Alexandru and others” section, for the crime of “conspiracy against the social order”, provided for and punished by Article 209 of the Penal Code.
During endless and harsh interrogations, Voiculescu replied firmly: “I did not carry out any activity against the democratic regime of the People’s Republic of Romania”. The investigation tried to accuse him of “fascist activity” because of his collaboration with the magazine “Gândirea” and of belonging to a “counter-revolutionary group” led by the hieromonk Daniil Sandu Tudor. The poet has steadfastly maintained that he did not engage in anti-statist politics and that his meetings at Alexandru Mironescu’s house with Sandu Tudor and other former members of the Burning Bush were merely literary and religious[13].
After endless and tortuous investigations, in the trial of 8 November 1958, the Military Tribunal of the Second Region of Bucharest, by judgment no. 125, sentenced Vasile Voiculescu to 5 years’ hard labour and 5 years’ civic degradation, as well as the total confiscation of his property[14]. During his imprisonment, Voiculescu was sent to Jilava and Aiud prisons. Here he contracted tuberculosis in his spine and was incapacitated by the disease.
We have some valuable testimonies about Vasile Voiculescu’s behaviour in prison. The historian Vasile Boroneanț remembers his meeting with the great poet and his behaviour: “I was exhausted and the room was quiet. […] After a while, when I woke up, unable to move, I just rolled my eyes around the room, trying to get acquainted with the place. Then I saw an old white-haired man lying on a bed in the corner of the room with a holy aura about him. His posture and figure radiated peace and gentleness. That was the moment I met the dearest person I had known in my ten years in prison, the poet Vasile Voiculescu. I suddenly felt a great attraction towards him. The feeling was mutual, because towards evening I heard him ask: “Who is the young man who was brought to us? Help me to find him. In a short time he sat down on the edge of the bed brought by several suffering brothers, including Jidveanu. He gently asked me who I was and where I was from. Barely holding my breath for the pain, I answered him, and then we exchanged a few words, after which he left happily, telling me that although he felt helpless, he would come to my bedside again.
The same former political prisoner goes on to say of Voiculescu: “His behaviour towards everyone around him was impressive. He seemed to be nourished by the Holy Spirit and was a perfect Christian. He didn’t care about food, he shared it with others. A circle of profiteers had grown up around him, sometimes taking his food without asking. One day a sick man, who had just had an operation, rushed to take the food brought to him by the common prisoners. His reply to his colleagues was: “Leave him alone, he is also God’s creature and if he rushed to take it, it means he needs this food more than I do”. His words stayed with me forever. It was the epitome of the sublimation of the human being!”[15].
Another former political prisoner who had the opportunity to meet Voiculescu in prison is Aristide Dobre. He remembers meeting him on the train taking prisoners to Aiud: “There, among the prisoners coming from Bucharest, I was struck by the figure of Crist, an elderly man with whom I had a conversation. He was sitting on a bench and, seeing me so distressed, offered me his seat. We became friends over the two and a half days it took to get to Aiud. I would later learn that this man, full of kindness and goodness, was the great writer Vasile Voiculescu.
[…] Just as when I first met him: gentle, courteous, quiet and resigned. He also prayed, but not loudly, not ostentatiously. I suspected he was praying when I saw him in a certain posture. With me he acted like a real father. [Sometimes I would ask him: “Doctor, why do you have to suffer at your age?” And he would answer: ‘Mr. Dobre, that was my cross to bear'”[16].
On 2 May 1962, Voiculescu was released, but had to be helped because he could no longer walk.
He had been hospitalised several times, seriously ill, mainly because of the illness he had contracted in prison, and on the night of 25-26 April 1963, Vasile Voiculescu went to be with the Lord.
(Adrian Nicolae Petcu – Rost Magazine, year III, no. 30, August 2005, pp. 20-23)
Bibliography
Măduța, Sabina, Vasile Voiculescu and the Burning Bush, Bucharest, “Florile Dalbe” Publishing House, 2001; VOICULESCU, Vasile, Opera literară. Proza, edited, preface and chronology by Roxana Sorescu, Cartex 2000, Bucharest, 2003. POPESCU, Florentin, Detenția și sfârșitul lui V. Voiculescu, Bucharest, Vestala Publishing House, 2000; VOICULESCU, Vasile, Opera literare, in three volumes, edited, preface and chronology by Roxana Sorescu, Cartex Publishing House 2000, Bucharest, 2003.
[1] Vasile Voiculescu, Opera literară. Prose, edited, preface and chronology by Roxana Sorescu, Cartex 2000, Bucharest, 2003, p. 21-28.
[2] Vasile Voiculescu, op. cit. p. 28-29.
[3] Sabina Măduță, Vasile Voiculescu and the Burning Bush, Bucharest, “Florile Dalbe” Publishing House, 2001, p. 34. Also for his moral stature, we can mention here that when Voiculescu received the National Poetry Prize in 1941, he did not intend to use the money he received for family needs and, despite his mother’s protests, his daughter Gabriela Delfour confesses, he donated it to a church in Transylvania to buy a bell. He considered poetry an offering, not a means of earning money (Ibid).
[4] Sabina Măduță, op. cit. p. 148.
[5] Ibidem, p. 151-152; Vasile Voiculescu, op. cit., p. 29-31.
[6] Sabina Măduță, op. cit., p. 155-156.
[7] Sabina Măduță, op. cit., p. 24; Florentin Popescu, Detention and the end of Vasile Voiculescu, Bucharest, Vestala Publishing House, 2000, p. 20.
[8] Vasile Voiculescu, op. cit., p. 32-35. His daughter, Gabriela Delfour Voiculescu, says about this moment in the poet’s life: “He loved her very much and I believe that the “Sonnets” are inspired by their great love distilled in the rhetoric of time. He wrote all the time, ate little. A mouse had snuck into his office, but he wouldn’t let us trap it. He wouldn’t let us fix the broken window in his room either, because a large spider with a cross had woven its web into it, which he couldn’t conceive of bothering or chasing away. He loved animals and children very much” (Sabina Măduță, op. cit., p. 33-34).
[9] Ibid, p. 24.
[10] Ibid, pp. 29-27. The first and the third would be called as witnesses by Voiculescu in the trial brought against him in 1958.
[11] In this regard, see the poems dedicated to Daniil Sandu Tudor and Alexandru Mironescu, in Vasile Voiculescu, Opera literară. Dramaturgy. Biographical Documents. Manuscrise sechestrate-manuscrise regăsăsite, edited edition, preface and chronology by Roxana Sorescu, Cartex Publishing House 2000, Bucharest, 2003, p. 735, 861, 949.
[12] Andrei Scrima, Time of the Burning Bush. The Spiritual Master in the Eastern Tradition, 2nd edition, edited by Anca Manolescu, Humanitas Publishing House, 2000, p. 135.
[13] Florentin, Popescu, op. cit. p. 52-65.
[14] Ibid, pp. 73-74. Documents from the “Alexandru Teodorescu et al.” (Burning Bush) file were published in Vasile Voiculescu, Opera literară. Dramaturgy. Biographical Documents. Manuscrise sechestrate-manuscrise regăsăsite, edited edition, preface and chronology by Roxana Sorescu, “Cartex 2000” Publishing House, Bucharest, 2003, p. 565-665, without observing the scientific rules for editing such historical sources.
[15] Sabina Măduță, op. cit. p. 28-29.
[16] Ibid, p. 45. Both this and the previous testimony are confirmed, as long as Leonte Radu from Sibiu, a former political prisoner, says the following: ‘[Voiculescu, n.n.] was frail and thus suffered enough. He carried his cross with great dignity and bravery was unknown to him. He was not modest, but humble in everything. He did not suffer from hunger because he was not a glutton, but he suffered from the cold, because on his bones and skin, the striped prison outfit did not warm him and he was not allowed to keep a blanket on his back to keep warm (Ibidem, p. 135).