Brothers Karamazov Richard Pevear Pdf To Word
Most of their translations are of works in Russian, but also French, Italian, and Greek. Their translations have been nominated three times and twice won the PEN/Book-of-the-Month Club Translation Prize (for Tolstoy's Anna Karenina and Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov). Their translation of Dostoevsky's The Idiot.
Ow about it, except that she would be better at the bottom of the river than remaining with her benefactress. So the poor child exchanged a benefactress for a benefactor. Fyodor Pavlovitch did not get a penny this time, for the general's widow was furious. She gave them nothing and cursed them both. Xbox 360 Slim Download Speed. But he had not reckoned on a dowry; what allured him was the remarkable beauty of the innocent girl, above all her innocent appearance, which had a peculiar attraction for a vicious profligate, who had hitherto admired only the coarser types of feminine beauty. 'Those innocent eyes slit my soul up like a razor,' he used to say afterwards, with his loathsome snigger. In a man so depraved this might, of course, mean no more than sensual attraction.
As he had received no dowry with his wife, and had, so to speak, taken her 'from the halter,' he did not stand on ceremony with her. Making her feel that she had 'wronged' him, he took advantage of her phenomenal meekness and submissiveness to trample on the elemen.
The Brothers Karamazov is beyond literary criticism. It is full of the fragrance of life.
In this book, heaven greets earth and earth reaches heaven. And it all happens throughout the whole book. This book is very humane (also optimistic and humanistic), but not in a sort of 'one has the freedom to do whatever he/she wants because tomorrow they will be food for worms' kind of way. The Brothers Karamazov was Dostoevsky's last novel, and I agree completely with one person who left a comment- Larissa Volokhonsky and her husband's translation is the ONLY ONE WORTH READING (that I know of). Many translations use sophistication (that's good in math, chess and sometimes philosophy), but has NO PLACE in this book! Dostoevsky's books can have very sorrowful parts, but all in all they highlight hope for humanity and something special that resides in each person, even in the worst of people. This special thing is a soul and a conscience, and a desire for love.
I'm sorry but I've read praise from some famous people of Dostoevsky as a 'great psychologist' and him knowing people, and etc. Fairpoint Spread 8 Keygen there. And I must say, there's nothing wrong with psychology, but Dostoevsky is just a tad above much garbage that is around that's called fancy names. Some books can be translated and interpreted in various 'creative' ways and that is great- but the spiritual meaning of the book must be transferred in the translation, then use all the creativity you want. I think translating a book like this and changing its meaning is robbing the author of everything he meant to say (it's not bad, it's just pointless). I'm sure that reading it with a proper attitude can still convey everything well to the reader, but the best translation is by Larissa Volokhonsky and Richard Pevear.
This book is like entering another country and seeing that people not only look differently, they speak differently, they think differently, believe and live in their own way. It's not a typical fiction novel, and some people might find it very boring. Sorry for such a long post and enjoy your life:D.
CRIME AND PUNISHMENT By Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Translated by David McDuff. New York: Viking. CRIME AND PUNISHMENT By Fyodor Dostoevsky.
Translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. New York: Alfred A. DOSTOYEVSKY'S 'Crime and Punishment' changed my life. It strengthened my resolve to be a writer and inspired me to learn Russian so I could read the novel in the original.
But I never did. It had all stayed too fresh in memory. Finally, some 30 years later, in order to review these two new translations, I read it in Russian and was back in that world of dark staircases and ax murders. Of course, the original read at the age of 50 could never shake you like a translation read at 20. Translations are never perfect, but they can be excellent. The work of translation is a series of thousands upon thousands of judgments. (The translators of the two new versions of 'Crime and Punishment' -- David McDuff, a British poet and translator, and Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky, who have previously collaborated on a version of 'The Brothers Karamazov' -- differ even on how to spell the author's last name.) If those individual judgments are well made and well integrated, the result is a successful translation.
As the number of gaffes and clunkers rises, however, the value of the translation declines, because each minor outrage breaks the spell that is literature. There are all sorts of theories about translation, of course, but any good reader knows there are certain common-sense principles involved. Thought must resemble thought, speech must sound like speech, and a curse should be as real on the page as it is on your lips when you stub your toe badly. Raskolnikov stands outside the pawnbroker's door, an ax inside his coat. In a moment he will put his theory -- that great men are exempt from morality -- into practice by bringing that ax down on the head of the old woman. As he is about to ring her doorbell, Raskolnikov thinks, in Mr. Pevear and Ms.
Volokhonsky's translation: 'Am I not pale... 'Am I not pale' is simply not the language of thought. McDuff's version has the ease of the natural: 'Don't I look terribly... Constance Garnett's rendering early in this century was the simplest of all: 'Am I very pale?' Later on, Raskolnikov is revolted by his crime, though more by its banality than its criminality. In one of those self-lacerating torrents of consciousness that are a Dostoyevsky specialty, Raskolnikov exclaims: 'Oh, the vulgarity of it!
Oh, the baseness!' -- if we are to believe Mr. McDuff -- or 'Oh, triteness!
Oh, meanness!' If we are to credit Mr. Pevear and Ms.
I cannot imagine a Russian murderer thinking: 'Oh, triteness! Oh, meanness!' I cannot imagine anyone thinking it, for that matter. This sort of rendering betrays a lack of skill, ear and editor. The word the translators have rendered as either 'vulgarity' or 'triteness' is 'poshlost' in Russian, a word so rich that Vladimir Nabokov devoted 12 pages to it in his 155-page biography of Nikolai Gogol. In essence, 'poshlost' denotes spiritual tackiness; it pains Raskolnikov more that he has proved to be mediocre, banal, even vulgar, than that he has taken life. McDuff's 'Oh, the vulgarity of it!
Oh, the baseness!' Is certainly better than the Pevear-Volokhonsky version, but the two 'Ohs' and the word 'baseness' lend the line too antique a coloration.
Oddly enough, Garnett, translating in an era when 'Ohs,' one assumes, seemed less dated, chooses a different syntax entirely, one that is itself exclamation without first signaling that it is such. She says: 'The vulgarity! The abjectness!'
This also has the value of being concise. The other word Dostoyevsky used, engaging in a little alliteration, was 'podlost,' a more common word than 'abjectness' ever was. This is one instance in which the problem has yet to be excellently resolved.
Words not only have meanings, but also histories of their own. Since 1866, when 'Crime and Punishment' was published, some words have had fabulous careers and none more so than 'glasnost.'
Though I knew the word had a long lineage, I was still startled to find it in 'Crime and Punishment,' where Dostoyevsky used it to refer to a historical phase already past. Garnett could not know the luster and connotation that the word 'glasnost' would attain by now; she simply has Svidrigailov say 'a few years ago, in those days of beneficent publicity....'
This is a version that has only lost meaning with time, as 'publicity' has acquired shades that connect it more closely with 'poshlost' than with making things public knowledge. Pevear and Ms. Volokhonsky found a reasonable, if syntactically tinny, solution: 'a few years ago, still in the days of beneficent freedom of expression.' McDuff's version: 'a few years ago, when we were still in the era of beneficent glasnost.' That was bold on his part, but an error. Precisely because the word has such a long lineage in Russian, it should not bring the last seven years so vividly to mind -- Mikhail Gorbachev's birthmark, champagne on the Berlin wall. It would have been better covered in a note at this point, as Mr.
Pevear and Ms. Volokhonsky chose to do.
However, both of the new translations have too many notes, that is, too many interruptions of the reading by an asterisk or a number, sometimes as many as five on a page. McDuff thinks it important enough to break the spell of the narrative by flagging 'Zimmerman's' in the following line: 'This hat had been one of those tall, round affairs from Zimmerman's.'
He informs us in an endnote: 'Zimmerman was a well-known St. Petersburg hat manufacturer in whose shop Dostoyevsky himself once bought a hat.' Yet his is a translation that uses the Russian measurement 'verst' (about six-tenths of a mile) and nowhere tells the reader what it means. Though Garnett makes this same mistake, she bests her two future competitors by working nearly all such footnotable information into the text itself or by simply assuming that the reader will understand that Zimmerman's is a store that sells hats. Nothing, however, is as crucial in translation as the rendering of speech. In novels, as in life, people spend a good deal of time talking, and nowhere more than in Russian novels, or Russian life. If too much of the dialogue strikes the ear as impossible English, the game is lost.
Marmeladov, for example, confesses his depraving passion for alcohol to Raskolnikov in a tavern where they meet by chance. When Marmeladov relates the depths to which he has fallen in regard to his wife, Mr. Pevear and Ms. Volokhonsky have him say: 'I even drank up her stockings.' Did he start drinking champagne from her slipper and somehow end up imbibing her stockings? Or is this some perversion that managed to elude both Krafft-Ebing and Oprah Winfrey?
All poor Marmeladov means is that he filched her stockings, sold them and used the money to buy vodka -- a sequence that is quite clear in both the McDuff and Garnett versions. ALL translations of Dostoyevsky still seem bedeviled by the 'devil,' a word I myself have never heard a living person use as a curse. Pevear and Ms. Volokhonsky have a peasant exclaim: 'Ah, go to the hairy devil!' McDuff has one character say, in what could be called classic Russian literature translatese: 'The devil, there's nothing to be done!' It is not on the presence of such lapses but on their frequency that one assesses the value of a translation.
More than a few, however, is too many. McDuff's Dostoyevsky survives its too frequent lapses and its too frequent notes. The American public will inevitably be baffled by certain British isms ('let him winkle them out'). Still, on the whole, Mr. McDuff's language is rich and alive.
The version presented by Mr. Pevear and Ms. Volokhonsky does not cover the full distance to English.
The way to preserve some of Dostoyevsky's roughness is not by publishing a rough draft. In the language of the Olympics, the gold has yet to be won. Photo: Fyodor Dostoyevsky in 1880.