A Year Of Russian Readings 2008

The Objective: From 1st January 2008 to 31st December 2008, to (re)read anything Russian, or Russian-related - from any genre, any subject, any period, any author, any length.

Why? Because it is fun - because it is the only worthwhile reason for doing anything for its own rewards.

If anyone else is interested in reading some Russian for 2008, please join in for the Russian Reading Challenge hosted by Ex Libris.

Visit the Russian Reading Challenge blog.

Dark Orpheus's A Year Of Russian Readings 2008:

Just a little disclaimer -- this is an aspirational list -- this means I hope to finish as many titles on the list as possible, but life and other commitments makes it impossible to read everything. Still, just going to try to read as much as possible.

2008: And So It Begins

1. War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy
   [translated by Richard Pevear & Larissa Volokhonsky]
   [01/01/2008 ~


2. Anna Karenina Leo Tolstoy


3. The Devil Leo Tolstoy


4. The Cossacks Leo Tolstoy


5. The Kreutzer Sonata Leo Tolstoy


6. Resurrection by Leo Tolstoy


7. Russian Short Stories from Pushkin to Buida Edited by Robert Chandler


8. Nikolai Gogol by Vladimir Nabokov


9. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov


10. Lectures on Russian Literature Vladimir Nabokov


11. Red Cavalry Isaac Babel


12. Give Me Songs For Lovers Irina Denezhkina


13. The Idiot Fyodor Dostoevsky


14. Demons Fyodor Dostoevsky


15. The Double and The Gambler Fyodor Dostoevsky


16. The Eternal Husband and Other Stories Fyodor Dostoevsky


17. Crime and Punishment Fyodor Dostoevsky


18. The Adolescent by Fyodor Dostoevsky
    [translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky]


19. The Hedgehog and the Fox: An Essay on Tolstoy's View of History Isaiah Berlin


20. Dostoevsky: The Miraculous Years, 1865-1871 by Joseph Frank


21. Dostoevsky: The Mantle of the Prophet, 1871-1881 Joseph Frank


22. A Hero of Our Time Mikhail Lermontov


23. The Heart of a Dog Mikhail Bulgakov


24. A Dead Man’s Memoir Mikhail Bulgakov


25. Tales of Belkin and Other Prose Writings Alexander Pushkin


26. First Love Ivan Turgenev


27. Virgin Soil Ivan Turgenev


28. Sketches from a Hunter's Album Ivan Turgenev


29. The Complete Short Novels Anton Chekhov


30. Stories Anton Chekhov


31. A Life in Letters Anton Chekov


32. Sakhalin Island Anton Chekhov


33. Oblomov Ivan Goncharov


34. The Enchanted Wanderer & Selected Tales Nikolai Leskov


35. Eugene Onegin Alexander Pushkin


36. The Queen of Spades and Other Stories Alexander Pushkin


37. Boris Godunov and Other Dramatic Works Alexander Pushkin


38. Dead Souls Nikolai Gogol


39. The Collected Tales of Nikolai Gogol
    [translated by Richard Pevear & Larissa Volokhonsky]


40. The Funeral Party Ludmila Ulitskaya


41. Medea and Her Children Ludmila Ulitskaya


42. Doctor Zhivago Boris Pasternak


43. Lolita Vladimir Nabokov


44. The Slynx Tatyana Tolstaya
    [translated by Jamey Gambrell]


45. White Walls: Collected Stories Tatyana Tolstaya
    [translated by Antonina W. Bouis & Jamey Gambrell]


46. One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn


47. Moscow to the End of the Line Venedikt Erofeev


48. Death and the Penguin Andrey Kurkov


49. We Yevgeny Zamyatin


50. Petersburg Andrei Bely


51. Envy Yuri Olesha


52. Death and the Penguin Andrey Kurkov


53. And Quiet Flows the Don Mikhail Sholokhov


54. Letters: Summer 1926 by Boris Pasternak, Marina Tsvetayeva & Rainer Maria Rilke


55. Peter the Great Robert K. Massie


56. St Petersburg: A Cultural History Solomon Volkov


57. Lost Cosmonaut: Observations of an Anti-Tourist Daniel Kalder

2007: The Warm-Up

1. My Life Anton Chekhov
   [translated by Constance Garnett]
   [27/11/2007 ~


2. Fathers And Sons Ivan Turgenev
   [translated by Richard Freeborn]
   [14/11/2007 ~ 24/11/2007]

Washington Post on Russan Lit

The Washington Post has two Russian translations on review this week.

First, a review of the Collected Stories of Ivan Bunin, translated by Graham Hettlinger.

They also have Michael Dirda reviewing the new Richard Pevear & Larissa Volokhonsky translation of War and Peace.

Stressing that their War and Peace sticks more closely to the Russian text than any other, including Louise and Aylmer Maude's semi-canonical 1923 version, Pevear and Volokhonsky retain the considerable amount of French used by Tolstoy's counts and princesses, preserve the author's penchant for word repetition and aim to match his tidy syntactic conciseness. The result certainly reads smoothly, its English being neither egregiously contemporary nor inappropriately old-fashioned. In this respect, the Pevear-Volokhonsky War and Peace joins company with recent translations of The Tale of Genji, Don Quixote and In Search of Lost Time, these being among the few works of classic fiction equal to Tolstoy's in scope and richness. Given so capacious and generous a masterpiece, it's simply impossible to do more than offer -- with due humility at how much is being overlooked -- a few introductory propositions for the would-be reader.

My copy is now sitting in my room, seducing me with its coy blue and red spine. It awaits 1st January 2008.

QUIZ | Which Wacky 20th Century Russian Author Are You?

Psst. Found this online. Think of it as a run-up to the Russian Reading Challenge. Oddly, I have no Mayakovsky on my list to read. I should look into this.

Which wacky 20th century Russian author are you?

You are VLADIMIR MAYAKOVSKY. You brood, and look sexy while doing it. Futurism and surrealism appeal to you. As a young artiste you pulled pranks like throwing tea at your audiences. You really like your friend Brik's wife, so youll write her an epic poem deemed "the most savage indictment of a woman in our time." A couple years after the October Revolution, no one will praise your work anymore, and your crappy love life will make you depressed.

So, sadly, you'll commit suicide.

Take this quiz!

RUSSIAN LIT | Related Articles on Russian Translations

Cross-posted Russian Reading Challenge 2008

Kate S. brought up a very relevant question on translations. We keep asking it, because there really is no easy answer. While I can't claim to have the perfect answer (I can only speak for my own preference), I thought I could share some of the articles I have found online that address the subject:

In 2005, David Remnick wrote a much-talked-about story for The New Yorker on Russian-language translators. He mentioned Constance Garnett, and of course the much-lauded Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky.

[Read Remnick's The Translation Wars]

Also, the recent New York Times essay by Richard Pevear himself, on translating War and Peace:

I’ve said “translator,” and in a sense my collaboration with Larissa is so close that the two of us make up one translator who has the luck to be a native speaker of two languages. We work separately at first. Larissa produces a complete draft, following the original almost word by word, with many marginal comments and observations. From that, plus the original Russian, I make my own complete draft. Then we work closely together to arrive at a third draft, on which we make our “final” revisions. That working situation has its advantages. Translators are always in danger of drifting into the sort of language that is commonly referred to as “smooth,” “natural” or, as they now say, “reader friendly,” but is really only a tissue of ready-made phrases. When that happens to me, as it sometimes does, Larissa is there to stop me. Where I have my say is in judging the quality of our English text, that is, in drawing the line between a literal and a faithful rendering, which are not at all the same. If the translation does not finally “work” in English, it doesn’t work at all.

[ Read the rest of Pevear's essay]

And this blog post entitled, Turgenev: The Translation Game, via Steamboats Are Ruining Everything - where we get a meticulous, close-text reading of various Turgenev translators -- Constance Garnett, Bernard Guilbert Guerney and George Reavey.

NY Times with Pevear on War and Peace

The New York Times is hosting a month-long discussion (moderated by Sam Tanenhaus) on the new Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky translation of War and Peace.

They also have an essay by Richard Pevear on the epic, and on the daunting 3-year translation work.

The world of “War and Peace” envelops you. It is built on uncertainties, illusions, sudden reversals, constantly shifting perspectives, but once you enter it you feel you’re in sure hands. Over it all is the “infinite sky” that Prince Andrei discovers as he lies wounded on the field of Austerlitz. This vast unity that embraces the broadest human diversity is the secret, the mystery, of Tolstoy’s art. If it offers a great challenge to its translators, it also offers great rewards to its readers, as I’ve tried to suggest in a small way.

A Russian Is ...

"Only a German bases his self-assurance on an abstract idea: science, that is, the supposed knowledge of absolute truth. A Frenchman's self-assurance stems from his belief that he is mentally and physically irresistibly fascinating to both men and women. An Englishman's self-assurance is founded on his being a citizen of the best organized state in the world and on the fact that, as an Englishman, he always knows what to do, and that whatever he does as an Englishman is unquestionably correct. An Italian is self-assured because he is excitable and easily forgets himself and others. A Russian is self-assured simply because he knows nothing and does not want to know anything, since he does not believe in the possibility of knowing anything fully."

~ excerpt from "War and Peace" by Tolstoy

I am definitely Russian.

Which War and Peace to Buy?

The new Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky translation of War and Peace is coming out soon. The crucial question is which edition to buy? When the content is the same, it becomes a question of aesthetics -- how prettily it will sit on your bookshelf. (Yes, I am shallow in my own way.)

Should I buy the US edition , with that sentimental baby blue?

Or should I buy the UK edition, with its more sombre grey and red script?

Decisions, decisions.

Ex Libris Hosts Russian Reading Challenge 2008

In 2008, Ex Libris will be hosting a 12 month reading challenge of all things Russian - novels, short stories, biographies, history, poetry - by Russian authors or by authors about Russia.

Challenge begins January 1, 2008 and ends December 31st, 2008.

From the host:

This challenge has a lot of flexibility. Although it runs for 12 months (beginning January 1, 2008 and ending December 31, 2008), participants are only required to read 4 books. These books can be fiction (novels, short stories), non-fiction (history, biographies, etc.), or poetry. I felt that many Russian novels are of considerable length, so this allows participants to take more than 1 month to read a book if they wish. Or if you are overwhelmed with challenges, then this allows you to participate without adding too much of a burden.

I just matter to be drawing up my personal reading challenge for A Year of Russian Readings 2008. Since the two coincide, I thought it would be nice to sign up. Always encouraging to have someone reading with you, isn't it? Reading list to follow -- closer to the date.

If you're interested, please either email her, or leave a comment here or on the Russian Reading Challenge blog.

R.I.P. II | Nightwatch

Reading for The R.I.P. II Challenge:

The Nightwatch by Sergei Lukyanenko
Translated by Andrew Bromfield
[28/08/2007 ~ 13/09/2007]

I picked up The Nightwatch because of the awesome film adaptation. Having watched the film will not spoil you for the novel, as film and book share only minor storylines. The plots in the book are far more complicated than the film. Not necessary better ― just more complicated.

The story is an urban dark fantasy, set in Post-Soviet Moscow. Night Watch spins the mythology of the Others ― a race of supernatural beings (shape-shifters, vampires, magicians) divided between the Light and the Darkness. Each side has a Watch that serves to keep the other party in check. The Night Watch represent the Light, and they operate in the night; the Day Watch are serves the Dark, they watch in the day.

Each violation of the treaty by one side allows the other to a similar infraction. So, because of the treaty, the Nightwatch and the Daywatch are forced to take their battle onto more subtle, more complicated levels. The heads of the two forces play complicated games, pawns are sacrificed, the agenda is never clear – and until the end, you don't really know what was at stake:

"A complex maneuver," I said, glancing at Boris Ignatievich. "From both sides. The Day Watch sacrifices its pawns, and the Night Watch does the same. For the great goal. … But there's an end that justifies the means. Two great magicians who have opposed each other for hundreds of year cook up another little war. Amd the Light Magician is in the toughest spot … he has to stake everything. And for him to lose is more than just an inconvenience; it's a step into the Twilight, into the Twilight forever. But still he stakes everyone's lives. His own side's and the other's…"

The novel is a collection of three loosely related stories, all held together by first-person narrator, Anton Gorodetsky, who is more fleshed out in the novel. He is an normal person who was put in an extraordinary position as an Other, and as a reluctant field agent of the Night Watch (thankfully without being annoying angsty). He just wants to do his best, but his neighbours are vampires, from the Dark. He wants to be friends with his vampire neighbours, but they are wary of him.

He is also the character who pieces the conspiracies together, through guesswork and blind chance (or destiny) — but here is where the novel is most ineffective. There is never convincing evidence of how Anton figures out the political maneuver between the heads of the two Watches. He reaches his conclusions almost out of thin-air. Sloppy.

We see things through his eyes, we hear him question the ambiguity of the Watches: "All of us have to struggle, not just against the Darkness, but against the Light. Because sometimes it blinds us"

Night Watch is an old-fashioned fantasy story about the struggle of Good and Evil, and how one has to make choices. In between are some humanist messages, about how intentions do not always justify the choices. In doing good, we might serve the path of the Dark. How can one make any kind of choice with this realisation?

How many of you there still are, girls and boys of various ages, raised by naïve parents in the sixties. How many of you there are, so unhappy, not knowing how to be happy. How I long to take pity on you, how I long to help you. To touch you through the Twilight—gently, with no force at all. To give you just a little confidence in yourself, just a tiny bit of optimism, a gram of willpower, a crumb of irony. To help you, so that you could help other.

But I can't.

Every action taken by Good grants permission for an active response by Evil. The Treaty! The Watches! The balance of peace in the world?

Truth is, The Night Watch is an absorbing read. There is enough intrigue and interesting stock characters to keep a reader turning the pages. Some of the cheesy plot devices can make a more demanding reader cringe, of course (the fate of the world hangs in the balance, on a piece of ... chalk?) ― but my advice is to just ignore the cringe-worthy moments and allow yourself to enjoy the ride.

It is amazing how familiar yet different an urban dark fantasy set in Moscow can feel. The Watches are structured within a rigid bureacracy, almost like the 19th century Russian civil service that readers of Dostoevsky, Bulgakov and Gogol will find familiar.

When was the last time we get to read popular fiction from Russia? Consider it a cultural experience that is also entertaining. After this, I'm dying to pick up Day Watch and Twilight Watch ― the later books in the series.

{Housekeeping: The Nightwatch is also included in The Armchair Traveler Challenge, as it is set in Moscow, Russia.}

BOOKS | Russian Literature and the Art of the Novella

I'm planning for a Russian themed reading list next year (July is not even over and I'm already looking ahead to next year. *sigh*) - A Year of Russian Reading 2008, as I call it.

For next year, I shall attempt to read as deeply and as widely from the pool of Russian literature available in English. In anticipation of this, I have been checking out reading materials.

That was when I came across the Art of the Novella range published by Melville House. I have picked out My Life by Anton Chekhov, First Love by Ivan Turgenev and The Devil by Leo Tolstoy. The range also includes The Eternal Husband by Fyodor Dostoevsky, but I already have another edition by my preferred Russian translators, so I skipped it.

[Picture Above: The three Russian novellas published by Melville House I have laid out at my desk at work. The Homer face is from a publicity package to tie-in with The Simpsons Movie. You have to admit - the Simpson yellow against the colours of the novellas just looks good.]

I've noticed some interesting forthcoming titles from the Art of the Novella series:

In August 2007, Melville House will release How the Two Ivans Quarrelled by Nikolai Gogol. I might already have this in one of my Gogol anthologies. So I might skip it, although the temptation to just buy a copy to complete the collection is just too tempting.

Arriving February 2008:

• Coxon Fund by Henry James
• Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia by Samuel Johnson
• May Day by Scott Fitzgerald

But the one I have set my eye on is The Lemoine Affair by Marcel Proust. I have never seem this title before. Is anyone aware if there has been a prior English translation of this novella?

The Art of the Novella series is a good range to keep. The titles selected are interesting, and they have these minimalist monotone covers that are rather eye-catching. Most importantly, they are all in easily digestible novellas, which is good if you are hard pressed to finish your books - like myself.

BOOKS | New War and Peace Translation

Randomhouse has the forthcoming Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky translation of War and Peace slated for November 2007. It's available as a three-volume set, and will set you back US$40.00.

And there was even a morsel of gossip on the Publishers Weekly blog. Pevear and Volokhonsky made an appearance to talk about their new translation of War and Peace:

I love the Russian writers, and after hearing Pevear and Volokhonsky talk about the work of translating (they were so intelligent and so charming. "What was the most difficult part?" the crowd asked, and Larissa said, "the boring bits." And her husband talked about the dialogue and how incredibly rich the Russian language was in Tolstoy's time, even more so than it is today, and how there would be only one word choice in English when in Russian, there were many. But my favorite anecdote was the turtle soup dilemma. Were there cox combs in the turtle soup? or scallops? Larissa researched the recipe and while scallops got into the manuscript, a sauce of cox combs will appear in the finished version), I am going to read this book. I even know when. As soon as I get the galley.

It says something about Larissa Volokhonsky that she will research a recipe to get the details right. It's meticulous, it's effort and dedication.

This is the version I have been waiting for. This will mean there is no longer any excuse not to read the Tolstoy epic. Perhaps I should set aside 2008 as "The Year of My Really Reclusive Russian Readings." (I love the rolling alliteration)

It occurred to me last night that it has been 10 years since I first read the Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky translation of Crime and Punishment — something that aroused in me a passion for Russian literature. I will need to think about this a bit more, perhaps draw up a reading list of Russian literature.

Some time back I started looking online for David Remnick's New Yorker article, "The Translation Wars." It was a highly praised essay where he compared English translations of Russian literature, from Constance Garnett to the husband-and-wife team of Larissa Volokhonsky and Richard Pevear. Unfortunately, it's not available online via The New Yorker). Yet today I found it via two different blog sites:

• Via Ruined By Reading


• Via Prufrock's Page - someone posted it in the comments.