Andres and Pearu

Tõde ja õigus #1

by A.H. Tammsaare, Inna Feldbach (Translator), Alan Peter Trei (Translator)

The book series can be seen as a thorough overview of developments of Estonian society from about 1870 to about 1930; it presents an epic panorama of both the rural and urban societies of that era. Tammsaare's primary conception was that under the then-applicable conditions, reaching a harmony of both truth and justice is impossible, and thus, while many characters will seek it, none will reach this destination.

Genres: Classics, Fiction, Historical Fiction, Historical, Read For School, School

652 pages, ebook

First published January 1, 1926

About the author

A.H. Tammsaare, born Anton Hansen, was an Estonian writer whose pentalogy Truth and Justice (Tõde ja õigus; 1926 – 1933) is considered one of the major works of Estonian literature and "The Estonian Novel".

Tammsaare was born in 1878 into a farming family. He attended secondary school in Tartu from 1898 to 1903 and from 1903 to 1905 he worked as an editor at the Tallinn newspaper, Teataja. In Tallinn he was able to witness the Russian Revolution of 1905.

In 1907 he enrolled as a law student at Tartu University, but in 1911 he was unable to sit his finals, as he became very ill with tuberculosis. He was moved to Sochi on the Black Sea and then to the Caucasus Mountains, where his condition improved. On his return to Estonia, he lived for six years on his brother's farm where he was again affected by illness. Unable to work, he threw himself into his studies and mastered English, French, Finnish and Swedish.

After his marriage in 1920 he moved to Tallinn and embarked on the most productive period of his life. His greatest influences were the Russian classics of Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy and Gogol, butt his work also shows the influence of Oscar Wilde, Knut Hamsun and Andre Gide. He occupies a central place in the development of the Estonian novel and is a figure of European significance.

Reviews

[Antonomasia · Rating 5 out of 5]

2019: Now, titled Vargamae, this translation is back in print, and on open market sale for the first time, thanks to Vagabond Voices.

An everyday story of Estonian country folk: the first part of a semi-autobiographical pentalogy considered one of the greatest literary classics of its homeland, it's about a late nineteenth century farming family and their neighbours over the course of around 25 years and 650 pages. Andres is based on the author's father, and Pearu is the bloke next door: an intermittently sociopathic and litigious feuder and prankster. Pearu is most people's idea of the neighbour from hell – except that in stubborn, ox-strong Andres he might have met his match. Indrek, who is essentially the author himself, isn't born until nearly page 300, and is a relatively minor character; subsequent volumes concentrate on Indrek and his life in town. Estonia has, when the story begins, been occupied by Imperial Russia for over 150 years, and that was preceded by centuries of German hegemony; now nationalism is growing, as across European vassal states at the time. Descriptions of the book imply a politically heavy novel, but discussion of the nationalist movement is infrequent, the bulk of it taking place at a drunken party during which a man gets a pair of trousers put over his head. It's quite earthy like that.

At first I couldn't forget my scepticism about how well this translation might represent the original's style. Some Estonian online reviewers find Tammsaare's sentences complicated; I don't know what those people's standards are, how old they were when they read the book - it's a common school text - or what sentences in the language are usually like. I'd also compared it with the prologue to the the English version of another of the author's books, which has a different translator - the prologue is more philosophical and satirical, but now I've actually read Misadventures, the books do feel quite similar in their simple directness, Misadventures just being a touch more polished – it felt like a translated classic without fancy vocab. With Andres and Pearu I often felt like I was picking up some cosy, well-thumbed pageturner of a saga that was a little out of fashion, the sort with a hint of the guilty pleasure about its reputation, whilst to read it feels like discovering hidden treasure. (I originally started Andres & Pearu because I was reading possibles for the 2015 Best Translated Book Award in advance of the longlist announcement. The writing/translation didn't feel highbrow enough for typical BTBA fare: it was something that could be very enjoyably read as a literal potboiler, or whilst waiting to go to sleep, and the sort of book that made me look forward to those moments so I could read it. Initially I tried to ration it, I liked it so much.)

Descriptions of scenery and agricultural work are not the most popular bits of classic novels with many English language readers – but I love them. Andres and Pearu has more detail about farming than I've seen in any other novel, and, especially in the first half of the book, the work is narrated with such focus that it has the meditative sense of the proverbial Zen 'carry water and chop wood', as you go through each step and each heave of the axe with the characters. All this may not be quite as elegant in construction as the mowing scene in Anna Karenina, but I for one found this book's farming scenes much more enjoyable, because of not cringing at the tensions of Levin's class tourism, or growing ever more fed up with Count Leo's implied pontificating and his presiding-paterfamilias tone - and because Tammsaare obviously has extensive first hand experience of many of the tasks and their day-in-day-out arduousness, not just of dabbling when he felt like it: this is a world where nice people work themselves to death and the survivors wonder if it was really worth it, and where worries appear to include whether someone is molesting the cattle and making them unhappy and unproductive (you can often see how easily there was space for superstition, in a culture moving slowly away from that). There must be a debt to Tolstoy in the structure of Tammsaare's novel: it's an epic creation which revolves between the consciousnesses of a number of characters who know one another, concentrating on a few, but giving time to others (to hired labourers, neighbours, and the children as they grow up). There may not always be a Tolstoyan level of insight and analysis - but more importantly for me, Andres and Pearu has a sincerity in which characters do not feel like a puppet master's toys, and, even better - for Tolstoy's analyses imply judgement, his or society's - Tammsaare has a benevolent neutrality and lack of expectation about his subjects more like that of a history book than the average novel of nearly 100 years ago. (Given the era which it covers, it's too easy to compare it reflexively with Victorians, and this neutrality is more C20th.) The prologue of Misadventures says - this is also the premise of that, the author's last novel: Doubt has been voiced in heaven as to whether, given the way man is made, he's capable of living righteously. If he is not, is it fair to send him to hell when he dies? Now there's an author unlikely to be punitive about human frailty, someone I'd start to read assuming I'd like them.

In that benevolent neutrality, in its ease of reading, in the amount of detail it holds about old rural life and folk customs, in the way it contains life written down year on year, family history rather than a conventionally plotted story, its low tech environment, and the author's authentic connection to the setting, this was essentially a book I'd been looking for all my life: the 'what it was like' I most wanted to hear about rather than something obviously a made up story. It was fascinating as a historical source, as well as very enjoyable as a novel in a way I can't completely separate from the former. Estonia was only Christianised in the thirteenth century and it's thought to have a higher survival rate of pagan customs than Western European countries. Established Christian religion was not as powerful in the nineteenth century as in some countries, because it was reportedly associated with German rule. Trains are mentioned only once, and technological changes are as small as a cart having wooden axles at the start and iron ones at the end. The only comparable book I know of, and love in a similar way, is Cider With Rosie, which has a smaller scope and cast. Thomas Hardy and George Eliot grew up with first-hand knowledge of similar places and lives in England, but their overt moral judgements and eye for what pleased the typical British reader of their time means I didn't love their accounts of village life as much. (It's a very long time, though, since I read any Hardy; I wouldn't mind reading some more.)

Among the very few judgements that come through are those palatable to the modern reader because they relate to violence to both people and animals. (This paragraph might unfortunately seem like a compilation of the most horrible incidents in the book, you can actually go 50 pages without encountering this sort of thing – these are just here because I'm interested in the topic of historical changes in empathy and in attitudes to violence.) Characters are not castigated outright: Tammsaare understands people as creatures of their time and environment, and the book shows what contemporary historical novels inevitably lack: sympathetic, largely decent people sometimes doing things we'd now regard as markers of villainy because they were normal at the time - probably the best presented instance of this I recall seeing, also refreshingly none of it includes the casual racism which is one of the attitude changes most commonly remarked on in old books, (not that they had opportunities to display racism, given the homogeneity of the society). Instead the disturbing nature of violence is presented in the second half by showing incidents through Indrek's more sensitive eyes, including flashbacks in subsequent years: especially to the day his father beat up his mother whilst she was carrying wood; to his mother beating a cat; and also to an event straight out of a history of pre-C20th rural European popular culture: Pearu, after refusing to put his trousers back on at the party mentioned in the first paragraph, is chased around and whipped bloody by the women present, who brandish sticks they've just picked up. [I thought about certain Twitter mobs as a contemporary equivalent...] Indrek also feels enduring guilt for causing harm he didn't mean, especially the time when a stone he meant to throw at something else, hit his mother when she suddenly moved into its path. The attitude to animals and cruelty is fascinatingly inconsistent in a way that seems very authentic; people's ideas and feelings didn't shift smoothly. In line with a Swedish story in the anthology Christmas in Scandinavia, people don't like slaughtering farm animals they've got to know: Tammsaare's adults have to get drunk to do it, the children pick up on the unsettling and gloomy mood and hide away, disturbed by the sounds of the dying beasts. On another occasion, an intruding dog, not his own, sparks Andres' rage, and the account of him chasing it around and beating it is presented in a manner like we would speak of trying to swot bluebottles or mosquitoes - sometimes a mammal is no more than that to these people. (It recalled Icelandic historical novels in which killing a dog or cat is a routine task, particularly after its owner had died.) Yet a young herdsman holds a grudge for years against someone else who killed his dog, to whom he seems to have been as attached as a modern pet owner. Indrek and his mother are glad when his younger brother stops torturing frogs to death; though a few years earlier, Indrek, probably aged 11-13, was prepared to kill a cat because its owner, a girl his age he'd fancied before he found out what she was up to, deliberately fed it wild nestlings. Whilst I've met people who wanted to kill bird-eating cats - don't think they ever actually tried – feeding the cat nestlings is a shocking idea because it had never even occurred to me, yet before conservation as a cultural meme, it must have gone on: after all, if it was okay for the cats to kill mice….

There is both great sorrow and a resigned fatalism across the village community about early death, including of children: people feel the loss greatly, but they also feel powerless – it seems longer ago than English novels of the same time: when people speculate about whether they are being punished by god, or that a witch sent someone home from a fair with a disease, that educated, superior character standing in for the authorial voice is not there to assure the humble folk that that isn't quite how these things work. The absence of judgementalism is excellent here: it's like the neutrality of history books but with greater feeling for the individuals involved – the sense of how it would have been seems remarkably authentic.

Less harrowing aspects of folk belief are also in evidence, such as the task tostrain the milk into wooden tubs, which the mistress herself had scrubbed clean with sand and heated with red-hot stones, so that no evil eye would spoil it in the warm weather. Germ theory still appears unknown in this community, but that doesn't mean people haven't worked out some related ideas in their own way.

One aspect of daily life we hear masses of detail about is the tribulation involved in going barefoot. If you'd ever wondered what it was actually like for peasants working day in day out without shoes, Tammsaare explains.

Starting in early spring, all the children, big and small, ran around barefoot, first in the yard as soon as bare ground appeared, and later in the fields when they emerged from the snow. The children sloshed around in water and slush that almost reached their knees. When their feet got cold, they’d run around on the harder ground in the sun and let the spring wind dry their legs. Then they went back in the water and mud because that was much more interesting. They alternated between wet and dry ground until the skin of their feet, ankles, and legs looked like the cracked bark of a spruce. Sometimes drops of blood dried in the cracks of their skin, but they didn’t care...
They paid no attention to the drops of blood until evening, when their feet were washed and smeared with pork fat. A piece of fat was warmed over the fire until it was soft enough to smear on their feet. “The crane’s turnip field” was treated so that nothing would grow there, but the crane still sowed his turnips with the help of the spring wind, the sun, the little brooks, and the birdsong. The children’s feet had to be washed and treated every evening, and just as the yards and fields were full of laughter and joyous shouts during the day, so each evening the house was filled with children’s cries.

His foot festered and pained him for a long time, but he’d managed to keep it from swelling.

While it hurt, the pain wasn’t nearly as bad as stubbing your toe on a stone or a tree stump, or catching a sharp splinter in the base of your foot. It hurt much more when a toenail or fingernail festered off. Sometimes he had ten different wounds on his feet and found it was difficult to take a step. Yet he’d still chase a lost cow or sheep, or the heifers when they raised their tails and stampeded before a thunderstorm, oblivious to his bruises, broken toes, and bleeding soles.

Not much hope for those without strong resistance to infection there. And likewise these people are so inured to discomfort that taking clothes *off* to play in the snow is what the kids do at one point, so their precious-few clothes don't get wet.

Perhaps not many non-historian readers are still with me - it is the 'historical source' type material that fascinated me so much I wanted to quote it, (and these review spaces cannot contain an infinite number of words) but there are also plenty of beautiful or raucous scenes, strong personalities of all ages, and an unusual rhythm more like real life with its one-damn-thing-after-another, rather than the typical beginning, middle and end of novels.

I knew even before I was half way through the novel that I would miss these characters a lot. And now I've returned to a two-thirds-done review months later to finish writing it, I miss them all over again, even without having said lots about them. (It's one way of avoiding spoilers.) Yes, the ending did have intimations of the soap opera cliffhanger, making too-heavy hints about what might happen next to some characters, but regardless I'd love to be able to get back to these people and their story.

Although it looks unlikely the next instalment will be translated to English any time soon, or at all. So I'd either have to improve my French a lot so I could read the rest of the series in translation that way, or win a silly amount of money and commission it like this well-off reader did with her favourites. It's a great shame that the translation of Andres & Pearu itself was published so unconventionally. Commissioned by a now-dormant boutique publisher who produced high-end collector's editions alongside free ebooks without an ISBN, with nothing in between (and no opportunity to donate a couple of quid if you loved the freebie), it ended up with no publicity even from the translated fiction blogs that push work from small specialist publishing houses that produce 'normal' books costing £7 or so. I only found out about its existence because I'd idly looked at a Wikipedia page. If someone searched on any bookseller website they would assume it had never been made available in English. The upside of this at least is that - if you know about it in the first place - it is free.
[Dec 2015 - the publishers' website was down (back up a month later) but the book is available on Kindle at 99p/$1.15]

(Finished reading July 2015; reviewed October 2015.)

[Maria · Rating 4 out of 5]

vaert raamat, täis vaert naisi ja vängeid mehi

[Maarja Lünekund · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Tõde ja õigus" - teos, mis tekitab kooliõpilastes judinaid ja paneb nad kirjandust vihkama. Ei suutnud minagi gümnaasiumi ajal seda mahukat ja väärikat teost läbi lugeda. Austus autori ja teose vastu olid olemas, kuid kui raamatu lugemistähtaeg kukkus, olin ma suutnud läbi hekseldada vaid paarkümmend lehekülge. Mõneti olen õnnelik, et ma tol ajal seda läbi lugeda ei suutnud, sest ma ei oleks niikuinii mõistnud selle teose tõelist sügavust. Ka nüüdki lugedes tundsin vahel, et teose sisu areneb liiga aeglaselt edasi ja on kohutavalt raskemeelne. Kui hetkeks arvasin, et nüüd on Vargamäele saabumas paremad päevad, juhtus jälle midagi halba ja masendavat. Tegelased virelesid päevast päeva ning tapsid eneseid tööga. Sellest hoolimata elasin neile väga tugevalt kaasa. Mul tuli nutt kurku, kui Krõõt ära suri. Ma langesin masendusse, kui Juss ennast üles poos. Ma ei suutnud isegi Andrese-Mari-Jussi armukolmnurga juures poolt valida, sest neid kõiki oli pandud lihtsalt nii vastikusse olukorda, et ma ei suutnud kummagi osapoole suunas halvustavalt näpuga näidata. Just nii hästi annabki Tammsaare edasi Vargamäe eluolu. Ta kirjeldab üksikasjaliselt nende inimeste tundeid ja mõtteid ning haarab sind kaasa. Siia lõppu lisaksin ma ühe mõtlemapaneva katkendi teose viimastelt lehekülgedelt Andrese ja noore Andrese vestlusest:
„Tee tööd ja näe vaeva, siis tuleb armastus,“ ütles isa.
„Sina oled seda teind ja minu ema tegi seda ka, ega ta muidu nii vara surnd; aga armastus ei tulnd, teda põle tänapäevani Vargamäel.“

[Jaagup · Rating 3 out of 5]

Nagu keegi ütles, raamat sellest, kuidas inimesed lõputu mullassonkimise nüridusest lolliks lähevad. Olustikukirjeldusena ilmselt hea, kooliõpilaste kirjandusvihkajaks tegemiseks suurepärane, muus osas aga liiga aeglane, pikk ja raskemeelne.

[Anna-Maria Prokofjeva · Rating 5 out of 5]

Nüüd võin ennast tõeliseks eestlaseks kuulutada, kasvõi osaliselt.
Mulle vãga meeldis. Tundsin, nagu oleksin osake Vargamãest ja lõpus sain Andresega natuke kurbust jagada.

[Madli · Rating 4 out of 5]

As others have already written, it resembles about Estonian life. But it's not all of it.
Pearu doesn't just want to tease Andres for the sake of giving him a hard time. He is bored. He wants to play a game with Andres. Andres though doesn't understand it. For Pearu, life is a game. Andres looks at life in a much serious way. He is always looking for truth and justice. And he is surprised about how truth isn't equal with justice. And the way he realizes it is very sad. As everyone once understand that truth isn't worth much in the world, in the real life, it sent a strong message. When I read it, I was at the age, when people start to realize, that the world is a terrible place, that money is power and nothing else matters, that life is unfair and very, very difficult; I was pleased to read about that in a book. It told me, that it i s like that, but somehow comforted me.
Again about Pearu - I like how A.H.Tammsaare created the character of him. He deals with life another way than Andres. As if he had already realized the sadness of the world and that life's pointless, and he dealt with it. In a childish way, yes, but what other can you do. He found his little joys in life (drinking and teasing Andres, who's seriousness made it even more pleasant) and with these handled his life.
It's as if Andres and Pearu are the two types of people that exist - a pessimist and an optimist. But, as A.H.Tammsaare's writings are very, very deep, it probably is the simplest way to interpret these two characters. There are very many interpretations and writings and analysis about Tõde ja Õigus, where you can read a lot about the characters and meaning of land and the dogs and the characters of fools in Tammsaares books. The book is not a story about Estonian life, how everyone want to tease others and steal stuff etc. It is much more. So much more. To understand that, one should read at least some of the writings about Tõde ja Õigus.
I was also moved by the legendary sentence from the book, where Andres thought of the land not about how it is now, but how it could be. But, on the other hand, in the fifth book of Tõde ja Õigus, he realizes that all of it is fleeting and fickle. How he has devoted his life to the land. How people had died for the land. But when he dies, the land will go back to what it used to be even before Andres came. The resignation. It moved me.

As A.H.Tammsaare is known to write long and difficult sentences, it isn't a light reading. But still I suggest to read it.

[lisete · Rating 4 out of 5]

“…. sest Vargamäel oli ikka nõnda olnud, et kui rõõm
tuli kellegi südamesse, siis lahkus ta mõne teise südamest, sest Vargamäel ei jätkunud rõõmu korraga kõigi südamete tarvis… ”

nii autentselt morjendav, et paneb küsima, kas see ongi meie geneetiline kood?

[Kristin Soone · Rating 5 out of 5]

“algas töö, algas eluaegne töö, algas töö, millest pidi jätkuma isegi tulevale põlvele.”

kuidas see võimalik on, et see nii hea oli? üllatavalt lihtne lugeda, põnev ja ilusa sõnumiga raamat. ma saan aru, miks inimesed 100 aastat tagasi hulluks läksid selle raamatu pärast

[Loona · Rating 4 out of 5]

Vaert raamat tõesti...

[Alan (The Lone Librarian) Teder · Rating 5 out of 5]

Translated Estonian classic in print at last
Review of the English language translation (2019) of the Estonian language original Tõde ja õigus I (Truth and Justice I) (1926)

Review draft in progress

Notes & errata for use in later review:

Vargamäe drops Andres and Pearu's excellent 18 page foreword by Tammsaare Museum director Maarja Vaino and replaces it with a new and shorter (6 page) introduction by Vagabond Voices publisher Allan Cameron.

End of Chapter 3 and ongoing: They continue Andres and Pearu's translation of the Estonian "korv" as "basket", which may be literally correct but just seems odd in English. I think something like "jug" would have been more understandable. "Basket" makes me picture the beer leaking out through the gaps in basket weaves.

They didn't fix Andres and Pearu's contradiction / translation error at the end of Chapter 8 in the sentence "The whole hill was put down in the manor’s books as Vargamäe and when the area was surveyed, the farms were put down as Hill Farm and Valley Farm." This contradicts the opening from Chapter 1: "The next farm is behind the hill, in the valley. The Manor Register lists them as Front Family and Back Family, but people call them Hill Farm and Valley Farm."

The proper translation of the original Estonian sentence "Kogu saarele aga anti mõisakirja nimeks Vargamäe ja kohtada krunti ajamisel märgiti talud Eespere ning Tagapere." should have been "The whole hill was put down in the manor's books as Vargamäe and when the area was surveyed, the farms were put down as Front Family and Back Family."

pg. 202 = replaced "stooks" instead of "shocks" in the line "...into the rye field where he crushed down the stooks?" "Andres and Pearu" uses "shocks" throughout, "Vargamae" had used "shocks" up until this point.

pg. 442 = left Andres and Pearu's typo of "happeneing" unfixed in the line: "Have you noticed what's happeneing with our Liisi?"

pg. 484 = new typo of "Rrams locking horns and dashing about..." instead of Andres and Pearu's "The rams butting horns and dashing about..." (on pg. 560 in the latter).

[Juhan Voolaid · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tõde ja õigust õnnestus mul koolipõlves mitte lugeda. Tänan selle eest oma kirjandusõpetajat, kes ei tõmmanud mind selle eest liistule ja ei rikkunud mu ilmselt selle aasta parimat lugemiselamust. Toona ei oleks see raamat mind kindlasti kuidagi kõnetanud. Mitte ükski raamat ei suutnud seda siis - vaja oli kõige muuga tegeleda.

Igatahes nüüd kui seda lugema hakkasin, tegin seda suure eelarvamusega -- ikkagi on tegemist "eestlase piibliga". Meie kultuuri tüvitekst, jne jne. Ilmselt ta üks raske närimine olema saab, aga mis teha. Jaksati sellele võimas film teha, jaksan selle ka ära lugeda. Lubasingi selle enne filmi vaatamist läbi lugeda.

Üllatus oli suur, kui avastasin Tammsaares tõelise rahvakirjaniku olevat. Lugu läks mul koheselt käima. Tühja loba ei ole, sündmused arenevad kiiresti ja pingsalt. Juba pärast paari peatükki oli mõtteainet, kuidas see tekst ei ole kuidagi ajale jalgu jäänud. Kuidas see Pearu on ikka üks tüüpiline munn, kes nagu läbi aja ja ruumi meid kõiki eluteel tervitab. Fantastiline antikangelane mille lähedale paljud modernse kirjanduse tegelased ei küündi. Respekt!

Vana Eesti argielu pani mind mõtlema ka sellele, kuidas oma lapsepõlvest veel mäletan kuidas käis elu talus. Maal. Peale varateismelist iga ma enam maale eriti ei sattunud, aga üle lugedes erinevad maakohad (sugulased kaugemalt ja lähemalt, vanaema tuttavad jne) siis sai titena neid majapidamisi oma 10 meelde tuletatud. Väga kirkad mälestused mingist idüllilisest vabaduse tundest, mida linnalapsed kunagi kogeda ei saa -- loomad, metsad, täielik isoleeritus. Hea et see sellesse raamatusse kirja on pandud.

Muud ei olegi nagu öelda, kui et tõeline meistri tase. Eriti võttes arvesse kui vana tekstiga tegemist on, et see kuidagi tänapäeva standarditele ei peaks sobima -- sobib ja kuidas veel. Pinget keeratakse peale, tegelased arenevad ja muutuvad. Traagikat, huumorit ning mõtteainet on parajalt.

Mõtlesin veel, et moderne maailm oskab vaadelda ka naisterahva tõekspidamisi, mille suhtes vanem kirjandus on tuntud oma ignorantsuses. Ka selle koha pealt oli mu üllatus suur, kuidas Tammsaare oskas näha nõrgema soo muresi väga elutervelt ja ilustamata.

Teen väikse pausi, nii nagu mul sarjadega ikka on ja siis loen kindlasti järgmist osa edasi. Kindlasti ka midagi muud veel Tammsaarelt.

[Mariliis Tüvi · Rating 3 out of 5]

Eesti kirjanik ja semiootik Valdur Mikita on iseloomustanud eestlaste ja "Tõe ja õiguse" kui eestluse ühe tüviteksti suhet järgnevalt: "Rahvas, kelle kõige kuulsam kirjandusteos on viieköiteline sookuivendamise käsiraamat, ei saa olla normaalne – ja ei peagi. Võimalik, et meil on ilmaruumis hoopis üks teine asi ajada."

[Laurelin Tengel · Rating 2 out of 5]

Why is life so hard....because you make it hard fool. That's the book.

[Daniel · Rating 3 out of 5]

alkohol, töö ja koduvägivald - ehteestlaslik lugemine

[Simona Väär · Rating 4 out of 5]

Imelik mõelda, et filmi väljatulemisest on juba viis aastat. Järelikult käisin seda 13-aastasena vaatamas ning mäletan, et pärast lugesin raamatut ka. Mitte küll täitsa lõpuni, aga üle poole. Nüüd siis kohustuliku kirjandusena. Film on kindlasti üks Eesti parimatest, mis on ilmselt seletatav ka suure eelarvega, mis sellesse läks. Film oli minu arust palju masendavam, sest seal kujutati pigem Andrese ja Pearu suhtlust ja kraavikonflikti ning rohkeid kohtuskäimisi, aga raamatu teises pooles ka lapsi ning mitte nii palju nende meeste omavahelisi tülisid. Huvitav on selle teose puhul see, et see püstitab mitmeid ärkamisajale/eesti taluelule kohaseid teemasid/küsimusi. Näiteks tuleviku nimel elamine, kuna kogu aeg rabatakse tööd, mida kajastas eriti Andres. Seda ilusat tulevikku aga ei paistagi tulevat ning järglasedki ei taha Vargamäele jääda, mis tõstatab pärandi edasiandmise küsimuse (kas ma selle nimel rügangi, et mu lastel oleks kunagi hea ja kas sellel on üldse mõtet?). Mäletan, et filmis eriti oli Andres algul väga aus ja ajas tõde taga, aga pärast ta enam nii ausat mängu ei mänginud.

Mu lemmikkohad:
Sõnalausumata istus Andres sängijalutsile ja vajus seal kössi, selg peaaegu naise poole. Vahest ehk esimest korda elus mõtles ta tõsiselt oma naise ja laste saatuse üle järele. Ta isegi imestas lõpuks, et temal võivad olla korraga niisugused mõtted.

Oma pisaraid püüdis Mari laste eest niipalju varjata, kui vähegi võis, aga ikkagi nähti teda siin-seal silmi pühkimas. Teised lapsed harjusid varsti ema nutuga, aga Indrek mitte. Tema ei saanud kunagi muidu, kui pidi emaga kaasa nutma: surus pea ema riietesse ja karjus.
„Sina oled ainuke, kes patuhimus sigitatud, sellepärast nutad sa," mõtles Mari oma ja Andrese vanema poja kohta. „Sinu veres on surma-süüdi, sellepärast."

Meie häda on see, et meil on rohkem mõtteid kui Hundipalul või Vargamäel vaja. Meil on rohkem aru, kui siia paergu mahub. Siin põle paergu kuigi palju aru ja mõtteid vaja, peab ainult tööd murdma."
„Me oleme ju murnd," ütles Andres ja lisas juurde: „Pearu on vähem teind."
„Õige, Pearu on vähem teind," vastas Tiit. „Aga tema on veel vähem mõelnd. Tema põle üldse mõelnd, vaid ainult teind, mis nina ees, nõnda on temal ja tema lastel kergem kui neil ja meie lastel. Meie sõrmed on tööga könksu läind, meie pihad vimmas, aga meie mõtted on alles sirged ja küüruta. Meie ei räägi Vargamäest ja Hundipalust, nagu nad on, vaid nagu nad peaksid olema. See on meie lapsed rikkunud - nemad ei kõlba ei Vargamäele ega Hundipalule. Vargamäe ja Hundipalu lapsed ei tohiks õieti teadagi, et on kusagil ilusam ja parem maa, nende ees peab selle saladuses hoidma, siis on nad õiged Vargamäe ja Hundipalu lapsed. Aga meie omad on rikutud, nemad tahvad siit ära, et paremat otsida."
„Nõnda siis pean laskma ka Indreku minna paremat otsima?" küsis Andres vähese mõtlemise järele.
„Lase tal minna, see on ainuke õige," vastas Tiit. „Ega temast õiget Vargamäe elanikku ikka ei saa. Ka tema veri on lapsest saati rikutud.

Aga imestada polnud selles midagi, sest Vargamäel oli ikka nõnda olnud, et kui rõõm tuli kellegi südamesse, siis lahkus ta mõne teise südamest, sest Vargamäel ei jätkunud rõõmu korraga kõigi südamete tarvis, nii vähe oli teda jumalast jagatud siia soode ja rabade keskele. Kui rõõmutsesid vanad, siis nutsid noored, aga kui naersid noored, siis pühkisid silmi vanad, nagu leinaksid nad oma laste nuttu. Kui kilkasid naised, siis kannatasid mehed, aga kui maitsesid mehed õnnejoovastust, siis ägasid naised, nagu oleksid nad kadedad oma laste isade õnne peale. Andres oli Vargamäel vähemalt üks kord südamest rõõmustanud - kui Krõõdal sündis poeg, aga siis oli Krõõt kohe surnud ja ise surmale naeratanud, mida nähes Andres kivi äärde läks ja nuttis, nagu oleks tal kahju, et Krõõt korragi siin Vargamäel sai südamest naeratada. Niisugune imelik asi oli Vargamäe inimestega ja nende rõõmude ning kurbusega.

[Mia Malla · Rating 3 out of 5]

Muidu suht palju mahlakat draamat ja mõtlema panevat sisu leidub nii mõneski peatükis, aga muidu on raamatut lihtne tõlgendada järgmiselt:
- “teeme kraavi, saame mõlemad kasu”
- “davai aga minu maale”
- “okei teeme raha pooleks, vahet pole kumma maal ta on”
- ühe karjamaad ujutavad kuna teine lõhkus tammi vms ära (ja sarnast jama miljon korda)
- palju vaidlemist peksmist ilma põhjuseta
- “minu kraav kuna minu maal”
- “ei minu kraav on ka kuna mina maksin pool”
- “ei ei minu maal on niiet teen mis tahan”
- raamatu alguses tuleb Andres õnnelikult et oma talu ja maad arendada ja lõpuks pole ta ikka seda õnne leidnud mida lootis selle tööga tapmise kaudu saada.

Sellist vaidlemist oleks saanud ka lühemalt kirja panna, aga saan täiesti aru, miks sellest raamatust väga lugu peetakse. Raamat annab mõista inimese olemusest ja väärtustest. Näitab erinevate näitede läbi tõe ja õiguse tegelikku olemust. Raamat paneb mõtlema elu väärtuste ja valikute järele.

Suurt rolli mängivad ka järeltulijad. Lõpuks ei avalda ükski Andrese lastest soovi Vargamäge pidama jääda. Kohta peetakse kui kurbuse ja masenduse paigana.

Väärt lugemine kindlasti, aga milleks ta nii mahukas peab olema? Tekst annab tunda ka oma vanust, kuna raamat sisaldab mõnusalt murde keelt ja vanamoodi sõnu. Võibolla selle ajalooline väärtus ongi just see, miks iga ennast eestlaseks peav eestlane peaks selle läbi lugema?

[Liisi Ü. · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5!

[maria · Rating 5 out of 5]

vihkan koiki kes mind hirmutand on selle raamatuga! stx hea oli 😁

[Meribel Leppik · Rating 5 out of 5]

ngl ts pmo lol nagu r u frl et ma pean seda lugema aga lowk fw this seega 5 tähteeee gn

[Kertu · Rating 3 out of 5]

A depressing story of an Estonian family and their miserable life. But a realistic look back to Estonian history. I feel l like it’s kinda over hyped.

[Triibu · Rating 3 out of 5]

Kõigest üks kuu kulus "Tõe ja õiguse" lugemiseks. Ma tunnen suurt kergendust, et raamat lõpuks läbi on, sest see oli mul kogu aeg nagu kohustus kaelas. Nüüd saan rahumeeli muid raamatuid lugeda. Märtsis saingi ainult ühe raamatu loetud, aga eks nüüd aprillis võtan ennast käsile.

See on üks raamat, mis jääb kindlasti minuga kaasa käima. Ma leian ennast päeva jooksul liiga tihti mõtlemas nende tegelaste peale. Ehk see läheb varsti üle.

Kõige rohkem meeldis mulle lugeda teoses olevate laste kohta. Oli huvitav vaadata, kuidas nad suureks kasvavad ja mis valikuid elus teevad. Nende väikseid saladusi ja mõtteid teada. Tammsaare kirjutas nii kaunilt nende armumistest ja unistustest.

Vähem meeldis mulle lugeda peksimiste ja tülide kohta. Ajad olid karmid- peksti loomi, naisi, lapsi, naabreid. Kirjeldused olid kohati liiga detailsed ja tüütasid mu ära.

Üsna masendav oli ka lugeda Andresest. Ta elu muutus aina halvemaks. Iga aastaga väsis ta rohkem ära, ei suutnud enam rõõmu tunda oma elust. Unistused kadusid ja alles jäi töö.

Mul on väike tahtmine ka järgmiseid osi lugeda, aga mitte lähiajal. Huvitav oleks näha, mis saab lastest ja Vargamäest. Kui ma "Tõe ja õiguse" esimest osa kooli jaoks poleks pidanud lugema, siis ma ei tea, kas ma üldse seda kunagi lugenud oleks.

[Emma · Rating 5 out of 5]

kujutate pilti ma lugesin oma suures vanuses esimest korda tõde ja õigust

[Fabio Ribeiro · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a long book about the character of a nation, in this case, Estonia (even though that name is never used), still under Russian occupation at some point in the early 20th/late 19th century.

So while on the surface it focuses on the toil of farmer Andres as he struggles to tame the merciless marshes of Vargamäe farm, build his family, and deal with his Dionysian neighbor Pearu, the deeper reading is both an ethnographic/mythical account of what's specifically Estonian about Estonia, and a metaphysical/theological discussion of God's role when it comes to human truth and justice. Ultimately, God is the land itself.

It's not easy or enjoyable reading for our 21st century sensibilities, but it can be quite rewarding.

While the printed English translation is apparently no longer available, the PDF version can be freely distributed.

[Alan (The Lone Librarian) Teder]

January 30, 2018 Update

At today's #Tammsaare140 Festivities, Estonian President Kersti Kaljulaid announced:

"2014. aastal ilmus e-raamatuna "Truth and Justice. Andres and Pearu". 2018. aasta Londoni raamatumessil näeb ilmavalgust raamatu trükiversioon." (In 2014, there was released an eBook edition of "Truth and Justice. Andres and Pearu". At the 2018 London Book Fair the print edition will see the light of day.) from https://kultuur.err.ee/678859/kaljula...

The download eBook edition has been missing in action now for over a year at least, but hopefully a new eBook will also be made available in the future.

[Ingvar Baranin · Rating 5 out of 5]

paleo-eestlaslik etno-värk: tööta ja tööta, ikka ei saa midagi

[Madli Allikas · Rating 5 out of 5]

Üks mu uus lemmikraamatutest. Nii lihtne elu kirja pandud tõelise osavusega. Näitab, kui keeruliseks ja raskeks saab lihtsa elu inimene ise mõelda. Lihtne pikk lugemine.

[Krislin · Rating 5 out of 5]

kõik kes ütlesid et tõde ja õigus on igav lihtsalt ei mõista seda

[Liisa · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lõpetasin just ja tahaks nii väga kirjutada midagi selle teose kohta, aga kuidagi ei leia sõnu praegu… Tahaksin rääkida Andrese tõest ja õigusest, Pearust ning tema väga vastandlikest tegudest, tema hingeelust, Andrese ja Pearu suhetest, Vargamäest ja sellest, kuidas Vargamägi paneb inimesi tema vastu võitlema ning tahaks rääkida ka piibli lugemisest ning mida see teeb inimesega. Aga ma arvan, et mul on liiga palju mõtteid, mida pean veel otsast lõpuni, kui seda lõppu üldse on, ära mõtlema, enne kui võin midagi öelda. Ja kui ma kunagi peaksin üldse selleni jõudma, siis võin kindel olla, et seda juttu jätkub lõputult…
Seniks, lisan siia tsitaadid, mis meeldisid mulle ning panid mind mõtlema-

“Kannata aga rõõmuga, noorik, ega armastus muidu tule, kui valu ei ole.”

“Äkki kadus Jussist kõik kangus ja ta hakkas nutma. Hoidis pahema käega poomissilmusest kinni, pöördus küljeti tüdruku poole ja nuttis vaikselt ning alistunult.”

“Varandus seisab tõele lähemal kui vaesus.”

“Ma peaks laskma siis tõe ja õiguse jalge alla tallata, sest et mina olen targem?”

“Poiss võttis mu hinge”

“Külvas teine seal kärmesti ja kärmesti, aga endal silmad jooksid vett, nagu pilluks kevadine tuul vahetpidamata kibedat tolmu”

“Litsid mehed need Vargamäe omad”

“Nimelt kiskus Pearu laua taga endal püksid jalast ja pani need üle laua rätsepale pähe, kuna ta ise karjus”

“Päike tõusis, nagu oleks ta verre kastetud”

“Aga kui ta aastate eest oli katsunud oma õigust kätte võita tõe abil, siis oli ta sellest nüüd täiesti loobunud, sest usu tõesse oli ta oma esimeste protsessidega kaotanud. Õigust uskus ta aga endiselt ja seda nõudis ta, ükskõik missuguste abinõude ja nüketega. Kohut käies muutus pikkamisi tal õiguse mõistegi sedavõrd, et ta just oma nükkeis ja võtteis hakkaski õigust nägema, peaasi, kui nad temale aga kohtus võidu tõid”

“Ons see õigus, et minule on antud läbipaistvad kaardid ja Andresele läbipaistmatud?”

“Pühakiri teeb su südame uhkeks ja tigedaks”

“Minu isa armastas ka piiblit lugeda, nagu Andreski, aga meie, lapsed, panime tähele, et piibli lugemine tegi tema kurjaks ja õelaks”

“Tema kasvatab lapsi enda asemele ja sunnib neid pühakirja abil Vargamäega võitlust edasi pidama, sest inimese sõna on siin nõrk, nagu mõni lahja viin, mida see änam mikski ei pane, kes piiritusega harjund.”

“Ja kui nad kuskilt paarikese teineteise kaisust leidsid, köitsid nad nende jalad nööriga kokku või õmblesid nende riided kotinõelaga ühte.”

“Isa, sina isegi ei armasta õieti Vargamäed, sul on ainult kahju oma töövaeva võõrastele jätta, see on kõik, rääkis poeg”

“Tee tööd ja näe vaeva, siis tuleb armastus”

“Sina oled seda teind ja minu ema tegi seda ka, ega ta muidu nii vara surnd; aga armastus ei tulnd, teda põle tänapäevani Vargamäel.”

“Sina ikka kohe oma õigusega, ütles Pearu. Kaugele sa oma õigusega oled suand?
Oled siis sina oma kõverusega kaugemale jõund?”

“Kevadel istus vankril nukrasilmaline Krõõt ja Andres ise kõndis kõrval, sundides hobust, et jõuaks enne päikeseveeru koju. Nüüd istus Andres ainuüksi oma vimmas seljaga kössis vankril ja tal oli üsna ükskõik, kas ta päikeseveeruks Vargamäele jõuab või mitte”

“Aga kui see pärast sängi tagasi poeb, et magama heita, leiab ta, et peapadi on märjaks läinud. Nüüd alles mõistab ta, et Mari oma jumalaga on kõnelnud, nii alandlikult, et ta oma peadki ei söandanud vaiba alt välja pista”

[carmela mitt · Rating 4 out of 5]

oleks saanud lühemalt ka selle loo räägitud👍aga muidu oli parem kui ma eeldasin

[Lotta · Rating 5 out of 5]

Jah jah jah
Ma olen nüüdsest Tammsaare stan.
Lihtsalt nii ilusalt psühholoogiline ja emotsionaalne.
Tammsaare teab naistest liiga palju.