In the year that king Uzziah died I saw also the LORD sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up,
and his train filled the temple.
Above it stood the seraphims: each one had six wings; with twain he covered his face, and with
twain he covered his feet, and with twain he did fly.
And one cried unto another, and said, Holy, holy, holy, is the LORD of hosts: the whole earth
is full of his glory.
And the posts of the door moved at the voice of him that cried, and the house was filled with
smoke.
Then said I, Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the
midst of a people of unclean lips: for mine eyes have seen the King, the
LORD of hosts.
Then flew one of the seraphims unto me, having a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with
the tongs from off the altar:
And he laid it upon my mouth, and said, Lo, this hath touched thy lips; and thine iniquity is taken
away, and thy sin purged. ... continued
here
"The Prophet"
suggests to the reader a supernatural experience by the narrator where he is
transformed and sent out into the world by God himself.
It may be reminiscent of the Old Testament to some since six winged seraphs
appear to Isaiah, but what of the snake and the forked
tongue? Perhaps he was expressing his distrust of zealousness.
Some people may perceive him to be speaking of himself as well.
Six Winged Seraph 1905 by Mikhail Vrubel
Perceiving the poet as a
prophet is not unheard of in Russia and, in fact, author Fyodor
Doestovesky often recited this poem in public, allowing people to think of him
as a prophet.
Mrs. Ivan Pavlov heard him read Pushkin's The
Prophet in 1879 and later described the experience: "I saw the Prophet
Dostoyevsky, his face transformed. His eyes flashed lightning that seared
people's hearts, his face glowed with mighty inspiration from on high" (Hingley
184). The literary historian Semyon Vengerov, who was present at the same or a
similar reading of Pushkin, was likewise impressed: "Dostoevsky looked like
a prophet in the full meaning of the word. . . . From the moment he mounted the
podium all his listeners were completely in the hypnotic power of this thin and
inconspicuous man. Each person in the auditorium was spellbound by this
penetrating, strangely burning gaze that stared far out into an indeterminate
remoteness" (Kjetsaa 315). Another listener, saying his performance could
not really be called reading or acting, labeled it "life itself; a sick,
epileptic fever fantasy" (Kjetsaa 316). Grossman reports that Dostoevsky
"read with highly original inflections and in inspired tones," and
"he attached a great deal of importance to poetic melody and conveyed the
musicality and rhythm of the language splendidly" (566). His wife
accompanied him on these occasions, carrying his text, cough drops, a
handkerchief, and a scarf for his neck after he completed his performance (Hingley
184).
