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Sketches from a Hunter's Album
Turgenev's first major prose work is a series of twenty-five Sketches: the observations and anecdotes of the author during his travels through Russia satisfying his passion for hunting. His album is filled with moving insights into the lives of those he acquaints with, peasants and landowners, doctors and bailiffs, neglected wives and bereft mothers each providing a glimpse of love, tragedy, courage and loss, and anticipating Turgenev's great later works such as First Love and Fathers and Sons. His depiction of the cruelty and arrogance of the ruling classes was considered subversive and led to his arrest and confinement to his estate, but these sketches opened the minds of contemporary readers to the plight of the peasantry and were even said to have led Tsar Alexander II to abolish serfdom.
403 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1852
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About the author
Ivan Turgenev
1,817 books2,697 followersIvan Sergeyevich Turgenev (Cyrillic: Иван Сергеевич Тургенев) was a novelist, poet, and dramatist, and now ranks as one of the towering figures of Russian literature. His major works include the short-story collection A Sportsman’s Sketches (1852) and the novels Rudin (1856), Home of the Gentry (1859), On the Eve (1860), and Fathers and Sons (1862).
These works offer realistic, affectionate portrayals of the Russian peasantry and penetrating studies of the Russian intelligentsia who were attempting to move the country into a new age. His masterpiece, Fathers and Sons, is considered one of the greatest novels of the nineteenth century.
Turgenev was a contemporary with Fyodor Dostoevsky and Leo Tolstoy. While these wrote about church and religion, Turgenev was more concerned with the movement toward social reform in Russia.
These works offer realistic, affectionate portrayals of the Russian peasantry and penetrating studies of the Russian intelligentsia who were attempting to move the country into a new age. His masterpiece, Fathers and Sons, is considered one of the greatest novels of the nineteenth century.
Turgenev was a contemporary with Fyodor Dostoevsky and Leo Tolstoy. While these wrote about church and religion, Turgenev was more concerned with the movement toward social reform in Russia.
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April 22, 2013
Ivan Turgenev is probably the least known of the Russian trio of Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy and Turgenev but nonetheless you should read him if you want to boast that you’ve read ‘the Russians’.
Sketches from a Hunter’s Album is a lesser known work of this lesser known Russian, written before his big novel Fathers and Sons.
“Oh, you think everyone's interesting. That's because you're a Red. I don't. I believe that quite a lot of people were just manufactured when God was thinking of something else," says a character in Mortimer's 'Paradise Postponed' and Turgenev must obviously be "a Red" because he finds all his subjects in those little sketches immensely interesting. In just a few pages he extracts what is important about a character and make him as vivid as if we met the chap ourselves and drank vodka with him. (He does also write about women).
Upon a first glance these are just beautiful pastoral stories filled with love for the Russian landscape and its people, but obviously they are not as innocent as they appear or Turgenev wouldn't get arrested on their account.
Nowadays we might wonder what was so outrageous about them but in Tsarist Russia you simply couldn’t say anything that would question the institution of serfdom (which was thriving in Russia until mid-19th century, long after it was abandoned in Western Europe, and was almost indistinguishable from slavery).
Turgenev doesn’t come across as very engaged because his narrator is almost entirely removed, his only role being that of an observer, but with such an obvious injustice facts alone suffice and there is hardly any need for a commentary. Also, his perceptive portraits of all the characters speak volumes about his compassion, more than any politically engaged diatribe would.
While the political angle of this book is important, it, of course, is no longer as relevant as it was. What is important, though, are the descriptions of nature and landscape. I read and re-read those wanting to teleport myself to Ukraine in summer or spring. Sadly, here I am, in dreary London, where there was no summer for the last three years. When was the last time I spent a warm summer night by a campfire? When was the last time I smelled the forest early in the morning? When was the last time I ran through the fields escaping a sudden spring shower? When did I actually wade in a river?
Turgenev is right - non-hunters can envy hunters. I envy them the whole thing, bar the animal killing, as I don’t have any need for that. If you can go to some untamed countryside in a temperate climate, go. If you can’t, read Turgenev, it’s the next best thing. I don’t think there is any writer who can evoke a sense of place more gracefully than him. He also addresses the reader directly (although he does, of course, assume him to be a man), which is rather quaint and I wish more contemporary writers did that, other than in post-modernist experiments a la Calvino. I liked this book so much I also bought a Polish translation. I think Turgenev would read wonderfully in Polish.
All of the stories were beautifully written but as far as content goes, my favourite ones were Bezhin Lea and the Clatter of Wheels. Interestingly, they both take place during a summer night. Give me a summer night!
Or at least real spring. I’ll take spring.
"It's time, however, to finish. Appropriately I have mentioned the spring' in springtime it is easy to say goodbye, in the spring even the happy are enticed to far-off places... Farewell, my reader; I wish you lasting happiness and well-being."
Sketches from a Hunter’s Album is a lesser known work of this lesser known Russian, written before his big novel Fathers and Sons.
“Oh, you think everyone's interesting. That's because you're a Red. I don't. I believe that quite a lot of people were just manufactured when God was thinking of something else," says a character in Mortimer's 'Paradise Postponed' and Turgenev must obviously be "a Red" because he finds all his subjects in those little sketches immensely interesting. In just a few pages he extracts what is important about a character and make him as vivid as if we met the chap ourselves and drank vodka with him. (He does also write about women).
Upon a first glance these are just beautiful pastoral stories filled with love for the Russian landscape and its people, but obviously they are not as innocent as they appear or Turgenev wouldn't get arrested on their account.
Nowadays we might wonder what was so outrageous about them but in Tsarist Russia you simply couldn’t say anything that would question the institution of serfdom (which was thriving in Russia until mid-19th century, long after it was abandoned in Western Europe, and was almost indistinguishable from slavery).
Turgenev doesn’t come across as very engaged because his narrator is almost entirely removed, his only role being that of an observer, but with such an obvious injustice facts alone suffice and there is hardly any need for a commentary. Also, his perceptive portraits of all the characters speak volumes about his compassion, more than any politically engaged diatribe would.
While the political angle of this book is important, it, of course, is no longer as relevant as it was. What is important, though, are the descriptions of nature and landscape. I read and re-read those wanting to teleport myself to Ukraine in summer or spring. Sadly, here I am, in dreary London, where there was no summer for the last three years. When was the last time I spent a warm summer night by a campfire? When was the last time I smelled the forest early in the morning? When was the last time I ran through the fields escaping a sudden spring shower? When did I actually wade in a river?
Turgenev is right - non-hunters can envy hunters. I envy them the whole thing, bar the animal killing, as I don’t have any need for that. If you can go to some untamed countryside in a temperate climate, go. If you can’t, read Turgenev, it’s the next best thing. I don’t think there is any writer who can evoke a sense of place more gracefully than him. He also addresses the reader directly (although he does, of course, assume him to be a man), which is rather quaint and I wish more contemporary writers did that, other than in post-modernist experiments a la Calvino. I liked this book so much I also bought a Polish translation. I think Turgenev would read wonderfully in Polish.
All of the stories were beautifully written but as far as content goes, my favourite ones were Bezhin Lea and the Clatter of Wheels. Interestingly, they both take place during a summer night. Give me a summer night!
Or at least real spring. I’ll take spring.
"It's time, however, to finish. Appropriately I have mentioned the spring' in springtime it is easy to say goodbye, in the spring even the happy are enticed to far-off places... Farewell, my reader; I wish you lasting happiness and well-being."
Read
February 1, 2020I managed to finish this book with enormous effort, it is complex, especially the Italian version, contains words by now dated and difficult to understand. I read therefore with a huge fear, I was almost to give up the book because the effort was much bigger than the pleasure of reading; and instead...
As I proceeded in the 24 stories, we meet the narrator in his wandering through the Russian countryside, where he meets characters of every social stratum: the noble and the enriched peasant, the vagabond, the servant and the penniless intellectual.
It is the people that we will find most as the pivotal description in the book, their misery and their prejudices, but also their beauty, intelligence and values. One can certainly call it an "inquiry book", everything is reported and described without ever reaching an aggressive tone or clear invective to the regime.(perhaps for this reason, surprisingly, it was not censored by the Russian authorities).
The narrator, who later we will discover to be called Pëtr Petrovič, stands aside, his descriptions remaining neutral, slowly lead to the emergence in a kind of hidden way but a very lucid and pitiless criticism of the 'implacable social system of the time.
The most beautiful part is the description of nature, where the concept of hunting is gradually being left aside for landscape descriptions so intimate and beautiful to take your breath away.
Everything becomes concreteness, the smells of the wet earth after a thunderstorm; all the senses are stimulated. As if in the end the ultimate desire of Turgenev is to point the finger towards an infinite horizon, where is the beauty and the ultimate mystery of nature lead to determine the embrace of happiness for the man's heart.
Wonderful is the description of the sky, an immensity that becomes sea... The elements melt and merge into a universe of colors of sounds and emotions.
Sono riuscita a finire questo libro con enorme fatica, è complesso, soprattutto la versione italiana contiene parole ormai datate e di difficile comprensione. Ho letto quindi con un timore enorme, stavo quasi lasciando il libro perchè la fatica era ben superiore del piacere della lettura; e invece...
man mano che procedevo nei 24 racconti, mi si sono aperte davanti agli occhi tutte le scene descritte....Turgenev nel suo vagabondare per la campagna russa, porta in vita personaggi di ogni strato sociale: l nobile e il contadino arricchito, il vagabondo, il servo e l'intellettuale squattrinato.
E' il popolo che piu' troveremo come descrizione cardine nel libro, la sua miseria e i suo pregiudizi ma anche la sua bellezza, intelligenza e i suoi valori. Si può certamente definirlo "un libro inchiesta", tutto viene riportato ed descritto senza arrivare mai ad un tono aggressivo né si arriva mai alla chiara invettiva (forse proprio per questo, sorprendentemente, non fu censurato dalle autorità russe).
Il narratore, che poi scopriremo chiamarsi Pëtr Petrovič, si tiene in disparte, le sue descrizioni ur rimanendo neutre, portano pian piano a far emergere una critica lucidissima e impietosa sull' implacabile sistema sociale dell' epoca.
La parte piu' bella in assoluto è la descrizione della natura, dove pian piano il concetto della caccia viene soppiantato per lasciar spazio a delle descrizioni così belle da togliere il fiato. Tutto diventa concretezza, gli odori della terra bagnata dopo un temporale; tutti i sensi sono stimolati. Come se alla fine il desiderio ultimo di Turgenev è quello di puntare il dito verso un orizzonte infinito, dove è il bello e il mistero ultimo della natura portano a determinare l'abbraccio di felitica' del cuore dell' uomo.
Meravigliosa è la descrizione del cielo, una immensità che diventa mare....gli elementi si sciolgono e si confondono in un universo fatto di colori di suoni e di emozioni.
As I proceeded in the 24 stories, we meet the narrator in his wandering through the Russian countryside, where he meets characters of every social stratum: the noble and the enriched peasant, the vagabond, the servant and the penniless intellectual.
It is the people that we will find most as the pivotal description in the book, their misery and their prejudices, but also their beauty, intelligence and values. One can certainly call it an "inquiry book", everything is reported and described without ever reaching an aggressive tone or clear invective to the regime.(perhaps for this reason, surprisingly, it was not censored by the Russian authorities).
The narrator, who later we will discover to be called Pëtr Petrovič, stands aside, his descriptions remaining neutral, slowly lead to the emergence in a kind of hidden way but a very lucid and pitiless criticism of the 'implacable social system of the time.
The most beautiful part is the description of nature, where the concept of hunting is gradually being left aside for landscape descriptions so intimate and beautiful to take your breath away.
Everything becomes concreteness, the smells of the wet earth after a thunderstorm; all the senses are stimulated. As if in the end the ultimate desire of Turgenev is to point the finger towards an infinite horizon, where is the beauty and the ultimate mystery of nature lead to determine the embrace of happiness for the man's heart.
Wonderful is the description of the sky, an immensity that becomes sea... The elements melt and merge into a universe of colors of sounds and emotions.
Sono riuscita a finire questo libro con enorme fatica, è complesso, soprattutto la versione italiana contiene parole ormai datate e di difficile comprensione. Ho letto quindi con un timore enorme, stavo quasi lasciando il libro perchè la fatica era ben superiore del piacere della lettura; e invece...
man mano che procedevo nei 24 racconti, mi si sono aperte davanti agli occhi tutte le scene descritte....Turgenev nel suo vagabondare per la campagna russa, porta in vita personaggi di ogni strato sociale: l nobile e il contadino arricchito, il vagabondo, il servo e l'intellettuale squattrinato.
E' il popolo che piu' troveremo come descrizione cardine nel libro, la sua miseria e i suo pregiudizi ma anche la sua bellezza, intelligenza e i suoi valori. Si può certamente definirlo "un libro inchiesta", tutto viene riportato ed descritto senza arrivare mai ad un tono aggressivo né si arriva mai alla chiara invettiva (forse proprio per questo, sorprendentemente, non fu censurato dalle autorità russe).
Il narratore, che poi scopriremo chiamarsi Pëtr Petrovič, si tiene in disparte, le sue descrizioni ur rimanendo neutre, portano pian piano a far emergere una critica lucidissima e impietosa sull' implacabile sistema sociale dell' epoca.
La parte piu' bella in assoluto è la descrizione della natura, dove pian piano il concetto della caccia viene soppiantato per lasciar spazio a delle descrizioni così belle da togliere il fiato. Tutto diventa concretezza, gli odori della terra bagnata dopo un temporale; tutti i sensi sono stimolati. Come se alla fine il desiderio ultimo di Turgenev è quello di puntare il dito verso un orizzonte infinito, dove è il bello e il mistero ultimo della natura portano a determinare l'abbraccio di felitica' del cuore dell' uomo.
Meravigliosa è la descrizione del cielo, una immensità che diventa mare....gli elementi si sciolgono e si confondono in un universo fatto di colori di suoni e di emozioni.
July 19, 2022
75th book of 2022. Artist for this review is Russian painter Ivan Shishkin (1832-1898)
4.5. Delightful stuff. Turgenev's Sketches is a collection of 25 stories surrounding the landscape of 19th century Russia and the serfs and hunters he encounters on his own trips hunting. This is my fourth Turgenev and my favourite parts of his novels are his command over describing the landscape, so here I have that concentrated for about 400 pages. This is as escapist as it becomes, reading along to Turgenev trooping through forests and talking to strangers about their lives. At certain points it reminded me of Cusk's Outline trilogy, the way Turgenev himself falls away from the narrative at many points and instead we simply listen to a random serf narrating the story of his birth or marriage or whatever it is he is talking about.
Evening in a Pine Forest — 1875
My favourite chapter detailed Turgenev settling one night lost after hunting with a group of boys guarding village horses. He pretends to sleep so he can listen to their conversations, some of them as young as eight-years-old. They gossip before turning onto stories about ghosts, fairies and wood demons. I could happily read the chapter over and over. Turgenev's insight into human behaviour is also stunning throughout. I underlined all sorts throughout the book, like from the chapter about the boys, 'All the boys burst out laughing and then once again fell quiet for an instant, as people talking out in the open air frequently do.' It's true, I remember my days in the scouts on camp, we would be laughing and hitting one another and then in the next moment completely silent and pensive, even as young boys. Particularly on the water, it seemed to subdue us. In the mornings I used to go out sailing with another boy who was rather boisterous, but on the boat, he was anew, and would more often than not sail in silence as I lay on the front of the boat.
Morning in a Pine Forest — 1889
Sadly I could quite easily quote plenty of passages, so I won't. There are many. Interestingly, Turgenev ends the book by talking about the beauty of hunting even if those who read it wouldn't know/don't agree. What I find interesting is that he does not talk about the thrill of the hunt, the dominating feeling of killing something, of landing a good shot, the only positives he talks about for several more pages is those early morning rises, being with nature, walking through her, splashing in streams, and exploring. He does not once mention shooting animals as being the pleasant part of the hunting. So, ignoring the hunting as he appears to, this book is a 400 page ode to nature and how it can heal us. In September last year my girlfriend and I stayed in a shepherd's hut in the English west country and one morning woke early to go for a walk. Everything was completely still, cold, and the cobwebs were balanced amazingly in the folds of the bushes, gleaming in the sunlight.
4.5. Delightful stuff. Turgenev's Sketches is a collection of 25 stories surrounding the landscape of 19th century Russia and the serfs and hunters he encounters on his own trips hunting. This is my fourth Turgenev and my favourite parts of his novels are his command over describing the landscape, so here I have that concentrated for about 400 pages. This is as escapist as it becomes, reading along to Turgenev trooping through forests and talking to strangers about their lives. At certain points it reminded me of Cusk's Outline trilogy, the way Turgenev himself falls away from the narrative at many points and instead we simply listen to a random serf narrating the story of his birth or marriage or whatever it is he is talking about.
The sun literally beat down from a blue, darkened sky. Directly opposite us, on the other bank, a field of oats glowed yellow, with wormwood growing in it here and there, and yet not a single stalk so much as quivered. A little lower down a peasant's horse stood in the river up to its knees and lazily waved about its wet tail. Occasionally a large fish swam to the surface beneath an overhanging bush, emitted bubbles and then slowly sank to the bottom, leaving behind it a slight ripple. Grasshoppers sawed away in the sun-browned grass. Quail cried out as if despite themselves. Hawks floated smoothly above the fields and frequently stopped in one spot, rapidly beating their wings and fanning out their tails.
Evening in a Pine Forest — 1875
My favourite chapter detailed Turgenev settling one night lost after hunting with a group of boys guarding village horses. He pretends to sleep so he can listen to their conversations, some of them as young as eight-years-old. They gossip before turning onto stories about ghosts, fairies and wood demons. I could happily read the chapter over and over. Turgenev's insight into human behaviour is also stunning throughout. I underlined all sorts throughout the book, like from the chapter about the boys, 'All the boys burst out laughing and then once again fell quiet for an instant, as people talking out in the open air frequently do.' It's true, I remember my days in the scouts on camp, we would be laughing and hitting one another and then in the next moment completely silent and pensive, even as young boys. Particularly on the water, it seemed to subdue us. In the mornings I used to go out sailing with another boy who was rather boisterous, but on the boat, he was anew, and would more often than not sail in silence as I lay on the front of the boat.
Bored by his silence, I lay down on my back and began admiringly to watch the peaceful play of the entwined leaves against the high, clear sky. It is a remarkably pleasant occupation, to lie on one's back in a forest and look upwards! It seems that you are looking into a bottomless sea, that it is stretching out far and wide below you, that the trees are not rising from the earth but, as if they were the roots of enormous plants, are descending or falling steeply into those lucid, grassy waves, while the leaves on the trees glimmer like emeralds or thicken into a gold-tinted, almost jet-black greenery. Somewhere high, high up, at the very end of a delicate branch, a single leaf stands out motionless against a blue patch of translucent sky, and, beside it, another sways, resembling in its movements the ripplings upon the surface of a fishing reach, as if the movement were of its own making and not caused by the wind. Like magical underwater islands, round white clouds gently float into view and pass by, and then suddenly the whole sea, this radiant air, these branches and leaves suffused with sunlight, all of it suddenly begins to stream in the wind, shimmers with a fugitive brilliance, and a fresh, tremulous murmuation arises which is like the endless shallow splashing of oncoming ripples. You lie still and you go on watching: words cannot express the delight and quiet, and how sweet the feeling that creeps over your heart. You go on watching, and that deep, clear azure brings a smile to your lips as innocent as the azure itself, as innocent as the clouds passing across it, and as if in company with them there passes through your mind a slaw cavalcade of happy recollections, and it seems to you that all the while your gaze is travelling farther and farther away and drawing all of you with it into that calm, shining infinity, making it impossible for you to tear yourself away from those distant heights, from those distant depths ...
Morning in a Pine Forest — 1889
Sadly I could quite easily quote plenty of passages, so I won't. There are many. Interestingly, Turgenev ends the book by talking about the beauty of hunting even if those who read it wouldn't know/don't agree. What I find interesting is that he does not talk about the thrill of the hunt, the dominating feeling of killing something, of landing a good shot, the only positives he talks about for several more pages is those early morning rises, being with nature, walking through her, splashing in streams, and exploring. He does not once mention shooting animals as being the pleasant part of the hunting. So, ignoring the hunting as he appears to, this book is a 400 page ode to nature and how it can heal us. In September last year my girlfriend and I stayed in a shepherd's hut in the English west country and one morning woke early to go for a walk. Everything was completely still, cold, and the cobwebs were balanced amazingly in the folds of the bushes, gleaming in the sunlight.
September 27, 2020
Inizio con un aneddoto: sia Flaubert che Turgenev erano molto alti, rispettivamente 1,85 e 1,91: si narra che incontrandoli per strada il figlio ancora piccolo dello scrittore Alphonse Daudet abbia chiesto al padre: “Papà, papà, chi sono quelli? Dei giganti?” Ebbene sì, il ragazzo aveva colto nel segno.
Se non lo avete ancora letto, vi prego, leggete il gigante Turgenev. Anzi, mi sono espressa male, non voglio pregarvi, vi invito a farlo per il vostro bene, per godere di momenti di puro piacere della lettura.
Non mi piacciono le graduatorie, ma questi racconti sono finora i racconti più belli che abbia letto: hanno uno stile limpido e raffinato, una eleganza cristallina, sono ricchi di emozioni e sentimenti, di dolcezza e di grazia. Ahhh questi russi!
Se non lo avete ancora letto, vi prego, leggete il gigante Turgenev. Anzi, mi sono espressa male, non voglio pregarvi, vi invito a farlo per il vostro bene, per godere di momenti di puro piacere della lettura.
Non mi piacciono le graduatorie, ma questi racconti sono finora i racconti più belli che abbia letto: hanno uno stile limpido e raffinato, una eleganza cristallina, sono ricchi di emozioni e sentimenti, di dolcezza e di grazia. Ahhh questi russi!
January 16, 2019
The Publisher Says: Turgenev's first major prose work is a series of twenty-five Sketches: the observations and anecdotes of the author during his travels through Russia satisfying his passion for hunting. His album is filled with moving insights into the lives of those he acquaints with, peasants and landowners, doctors and bailiffs, neglected wives and bereft mothers each providing a glimpse of love, tragedy, courage and loss, and anticipating Turgenev's great later works such as First Love and Fathers and Sons. His depiction of the cruelty and arrogance of the ruling classes was considered subversive and led to his arrest and confinement to his estate, but these sketches opened the minds of contemporary readers to the plight of the peasantry and were even said to have led Tsar Alexander II to abolish serfdom.
My Review: This edition of "A Sportsman's Sketches" or "Sketches from a Hunter's Album" contains 13 of a possible 25 short fictions published by the tyro writer in Russia's preeminent literary magazine, The Contemporary, from 1847 to 1851. These were his first prose outpourings, designed to sustain his independent life far away from his autocratic and abusive mother. He brought these luminous, beautiful vignettes to life in partial imitation of his beloved's husband's work...Louis Viardot, much older husband of opera singer Pauline Viardot, and author of Souvenirs de chasse, a very similar collection of huntsman's memories of the countryside and people of Viardot's youth...but of his own youthful world at his mother's country estate.
The stories all illustrate the young author's liberalism, his disdain for the serf system sustaining a luxurious lifestyle for some and penury and privation for most. They were hailed by his fellow liberals, and entered the canon of Russian literature on the strength of that appeal. But generations of readers will attest that what keeps people reading these vignettes is a certain deftness and facility with characters and descriptions that is so robust that it even survives translation. These are objects of rare beauty. Not much when considered as stories, they blossom into beauty when viewed as moments lived by a very acute observer.
Singers is possibly my favorite of the sketches. The bleakness of the village, the unexpectedness of the singing contest in such a place, and the sheer animal drive of humans to find SOME joy in life...memorable.
Kasyan from the Beautiful Lands makes me weep...the dwarf, his simple belief that the world is good but mankind is not, his strength and certainty, all in contrast to our helpless and feckless narrator...how clear is Turgenev's picture of the unfairness of privilege unearned.
Forest and Steppe is, alone, the best reason I can give to you to go and get this book and read it. It shimmers. Its beauty of image and of imagination is simply unsurpassable. It is as close to perfect as any piece of writing I've ever seen.
So many of the others are, while good and worthy pieces of fiction, just not superb, that I feel it's best to say...the reason to read this collection is the cumulative effect of many a small, beautiful moment, not a Grand Revelation. More like walking in the woods by yourself, noticing birdsong and small shy flowers, than stumbling all unaware across the Grand Canyon.
My Review: This edition of "A Sportsman's Sketches" or "Sketches from a Hunter's Album" contains 13 of a possible 25 short fictions published by the tyro writer in Russia's preeminent literary magazine, The Contemporary, from 1847 to 1851. These were his first prose outpourings, designed to sustain his independent life far away from his autocratic and abusive mother. He brought these luminous, beautiful vignettes to life in partial imitation of his beloved's husband's work...Louis Viardot, much older husband of opera singer Pauline Viardot, and author of Souvenirs de chasse, a very similar collection of huntsman's memories of the countryside and people of Viardot's youth...but of his own youthful world at his mother's country estate.
The stories all illustrate the young author's liberalism, his disdain for the serf system sustaining a luxurious lifestyle for some and penury and privation for most. They were hailed by his fellow liberals, and entered the canon of Russian literature on the strength of that appeal. But generations of readers will attest that what keeps people reading these vignettes is a certain deftness and facility with characters and descriptions that is so robust that it even survives translation. These are objects of rare beauty. Not much when considered as stories, they blossom into beauty when viewed as moments lived by a very acute observer.
Singers is possibly my favorite of the sketches. The bleakness of the village, the unexpectedness of the singing contest in such a place, and the sheer animal drive of humans to find SOME joy in life...memorable.
Kasyan from the Beautiful Lands makes me weep...the dwarf, his simple belief that the world is good but mankind is not, his strength and certainty, all in contrast to our helpless and feckless narrator...how clear is Turgenev's picture of the unfairness of privilege unearned.
Forest and Steppe is, alone, the best reason I can give to you to go and get this book and read it. It shimmers. Its beauty of image and of imagination is simply unsurpassable. It is as close to perfect as any piece of writing I've ever seen.
So many of the others are, while good and worthy pieces of fiction, just not superb, that I feel it's best to say...the reason to read this collection is the cumulative effect of many a small, beautiful moment, not a Grand Revelation. More like walking in the woods by yourself, noticing birdsong and small shy flowers, than stumbling all unaware across the Grand Canyon.
April 17, 2009
Like a lot of my five-star books, this one has significance to me that extends beyond the words on the page. Years ago I got to talking about books with a really beautiful bartender at the old San Francisco Brewing Company. I said how I hadn't read much of the Russians (echoing something Ezra Pound says in Hemingway's A Moveable Feast. I think Pound actually says Rooskies). The woman put her hands over her heart and looked to heaven: "Oh Turgenev!" she said. "Turgenev!". Obviously that tugged my interest.
A few years later I was browsing in a bookstore in Kathmandu--which is a very good book town, in case you didn't know--and found a little volume of A Hunter's Sketches. It was a very interesting edition: published in Moscow, but in English. The binding, boards and end papers were all of very high quality. There was even a little red ribbon book mark sewn in. Of course I bought it.
The book followed me up the Solo-Khumbu valley, all the way to the top of Imja-Tse, to 21,000 feet. It tagged along afterward to the Thai hill country, to Northern Australia, and stayed in my panniers on a bike trip around the Coromandel Peninsula in New Zealand. I dipped into the book nearly every night during that whole year-long adventure. Turgenev's stories are deep in character and setting. You can smell the spring wheat being harvested, feel the rough boards of a peasant's table under your fingers. I've never been to Russia, but on that long trip the Hunter's Sketches felt like a little bit of home, somewhere warm and inviting I could return to every night.
A few years later I was browsing in a bookstore in Kathmandu--which is a very good book town, in case you didn't know--and found a little volume of A Hunter's Sketches. It was a very interesting edition: published in Moscow, but in English. The binding, boards and end papers were all of very high quality. There was even a little red ribbon book mark sewn in. Of course I bought it.
The book followed me up the Solo-Khumbu valley, all the way to the top of Imja-Tse, to 21,000 feet. It tagged along afterward to the Thai hill country, to Northern Australia, and stayed in my panniers on a bike trip around the Coromandel Peninsula in New Zealand. I dipped into the book nearly every night during that whole year-long adventure. Turgenev's stories are deep in character and setting. You can smell the spring wheat being harvested, feel the rough boards of a peasant's table under your fingers. I've never been to Russia, but on that long trip the Hunter's Sketches felt like a little bit of home, somewhere warm and inviting I could return to every night.
September 22, 2012
"Reading this first work of Turgenev's I tried as far as possible to prolong my enjoyment, often laying the book down on my knees; I rejoiced the naive customs and charming pictures of which I was given a delightful collection in each of the stories of this book..."
- Alphonse de Lamartine
Turgenev's portrayal of life of serfs has a distant compassion and admiration, which is some times even (though very rarely and never blatantly) elegiac. This book was apparently a reaction to what he observed in his country before fleeing abroad, his "Hannibal's oath" to "never reconcile to the enemy: serfdom". Now reactionary writing can defile stories with outside motivation. Not so the case here. His energy is channelized in serving us subtle, (overtly) nonpartisan portraits. He, a hunter (a disguise for peeking into the country life), acquaints himself with hordes of characters, coming in their touch for renting places to spend nights at, for finding helpers and horses and hooch. He is ever friendly with them yet never becomes too intimate. What we read here thus is not psychologically astute observations or sermons on moral uprightness and simplicity, but anecdotes - chance encounters, gossips, confessions that very naturally branch off from shop talks and hunting expeditions; all that form in our mind slight, hazy pictures that, we can appreciate how, would challenge the ill conceived notions of those times about serfs. A classic survives its age; it remains alive not as annals of times passed, or as a conveyor of the human sensitivity then. It survives because it offers that the value of which does not decay with time. A Hunter's Sketches here offers - what I would call - stillness. One may be completely oblivious to the political and social situation this book was written in, and yet one would find a gold mine of content for intellect and soul.
Very fittingly Turgenev lets a story be simple, seemingly plotless. The prose poems move forward leisurely, the observations mundane, incidental, and just as the unchallenged reader begins to forge a character into a definite shape, he is surprised. Take for example the story the collection opens with, 'Khor and Kalinych'. The unnamed narrator of the book (presumably Turgenev himself) travels with Kalinych to Khor's house and has a long conversation with him. Khor emerges as a sensible and worldly man, who has his prejudices, against education, women etc.; all while Kalinych remains mute and lost - a typical simpleton. Turgenev does nothing to change our view, until the last para. There:
"It will be a fine day tomorrow, " I remarked looking at the clear sky.
"No, it will rain," Kalinych replied, "the ducks yonder are splashing, and the grass smells strongly."
We drove into the copse. Kalinych began singing in an undertone as he jolted up and down on the driver's seat, and he kept gazing at the sunset.
The next day I left the house of Mr. Polutykin.
Nature is the second theme of this book. Turgenev describes nature as a hunter would: as beautiful and fulfilling; the hunter's life to be lived in integrity with it. A reader may want to skip through frequent descriptions however for Turgenev commits the debutant's folly of overdoing it. Of course, you forgive the author in the end; this is how he starts the last piece of this collection - with a direct note to the reader after an excerpt from a poem on nature he "consigned to flames":
The reader is, very likely, weary of my sketches; I hasten to reassure him by promising to confine myself to fragments already printed; but a parting cannot refrain from saying a few words about hunter's life
And guess what? In next few paras he describes the marvel in hunting with a gun and a dog through forests and steppes, in spring and autumn and summer and winter, night and day.
Sometimes he is so warm you get goosebumps.
However, it is time to end. By the way, I have spoken of spring; in spring it is easy to part, in spring even the happy feel the pull of the distance... Farewell, reader! I wish you constant well-being
This book will always remain on my bookshelf, to be dusted and frequented, to be smelled and kissed; after a busy day at office you don't need wine and music, you need a Turgenev's story reclining on a settee.
- Alphonse de Lamartine
Turgenev's portrayal of life of serfs has a distant compassion and admiration, which is some times even (though very rarely and never blatantly) elegiac. This book was apparently a reaction to what he observed in his country before fleeing abroad, his "Hannibal's oath" to "never reconcile to the enemy: serfdom". Now reactionary writing can defile stories with outside motivation. Not so the case here. His energy is channelized in serving us subtle, (overtly) nonpartisan portraits. He, a hunter (a disguise for peeking into the country life), acquaints himself with hordes of characters, coming in their touch for renting places to spend nights at, for finding helpers and horses and hooch. He is ever friendly with them yet never becomes too intimate. What we read here thus is not psychologically astute observations or sermons on moral uprightness and simplicity, but anecdotes - chance encounters, gossips, confessions that very naturally branch off from shop talks and hunting expeditions; all that form in our mind slight, hazy pictures that, we can appreciate how, would challenge the ill conceived notions of those times about serfs. A classic survives its age; it remains alive not as annals of times passed, or as a conveyor of the human sensitivity then. It survives because it offers that the value of which does not decay with time. A Hunter's Sketches here offers - what I would call - stillness. One may be completely oblivious to the political and social situation this book was written in, and yet one would find a gold mine of content for intellect and soul.
Very fittingly Turgenev lets a story be simple, seemingly plotless. The prose poems move forward leisurely, the observations mundane, incidental, and just as the unchallenged reader begins to forge a character into a definite shape, he is surprised. Take for example the story the collection opens with, 'Khor and Kalinych'. The unnamed narrator of the book (presumably Turgenev himself) travels with Kalinych to Khor's house and has a long conversation with him. Khor emerges as a sensible and worldly man, who has his prejudices, against education, women etc.; all while Kalinych remains mute and lost - a typical simpleton. Turgenev does nothing to change our view, until the last para. There:
"It will be a fine day tomorrow, " I remarked looking at the clear sky.
"No, it will rain," Kalinych replied, "the ducks yonder are splashing, and the grass smells strongly."
We drove into the copse. Kalinych began singing in an undertone as he jolted up and down on the driver's seat, and he kept gazing at the sunset.
The next day I left the house of Mr. Polutykin.
Nature is the second theme of this book. Turgenev describes nature as a hunter would: as beautiful and fulfilling; the hunter's life to be lived in integrity with it. A reader may want to skip through frequent descriptions however for Turgenev commits the debutant's folly of overdoing it. Of course, you forgive the author in the end; this is how he starts the last piece of this collection - with a direct note to the reader after an excerpt from a poem on nature he "consigned to flames":
The reader is, very likely, weary of my sketches; I hasten to reassure him by promising to confine myself to fragments already printed; but a parting cannot refrain from saying a few words about hunter's life
And guess what? In next few paras he describes the marvel in hunting with a gun and a dog through forests and steppes, in spring and autumn and summer and winter, night and day.
Sometimes he is so warm you get goosebumps.
However, it is time to end. By the way, I have spoken of spring; in spring it is easy to part, in spring even the happy feel the pull of the distance... Farewell, reader! I wish you constant well-being
This book will always remain on my bookshelf, to be dusted and frequented, to be smelled and kissed; after a busy day at office you don't need wine and music, you need a Turgenev's story reclining on a settee.
May 28, 2024
«noi cacciatori dove non mettiamo il piede!»
A quanto pare, a metà Ottocento, questo libro ebbe un grande successo perché denunciava con vigore le condizioni disumane di vita dei contadini russi, ma non è certo un pamphlet di denuncia. Uno dopo l'altro, senza espliciti ragionamenti né ideologie dichiarate, scorrono i racconti, sotto forma di ricordi di esperienze vissute andando a caccia. Ne emergono aspetti, situazioni e protagonisti della vita nella vasta campagna russa: grandi e piccoli proprietari, servi ricchi e poveri, stravaganti e vagabondi, gruppi di ragazzini che si raccontano storie di paura e amministratori che imbrogliano i padroni, orgogliosi nobili senza il becco di un quattrino e bellissime donne ridotte a una penosa immobilità; ogni tipo di uccello e il suo canto, la vegetazione sulle rive dei fiumi, boschi e paludi, molti cavalli, e carrozze, e cani. Sembra quasi di sentire le pause e le accelerazioni della narrazione ad alta voce da parte del cacciatore: girovago, sfaccendato, curioso del mondo e dei suoi abitanti, conversatore; con un punto di vista “signorile”, ma anche una notevole partecipazione umana aperta a tutti gli strati della società, a tutte le condizioni e i periodi della vita.
Il mondo lontano nel tempo e nello spazio, l'alternanza tra liricità possente, momenti colloquiali, intimi, drammatici, comici, grotteschi, e lo strenuo impegno descrittivo che fa uso di molti termini puntuali per la descrizione fisica delle persone, della condizione sociale a partire dal vestiario (gran numero di caffetani, gabbani, cambellotti…), degli animali e delle piante... sono tutte sfide alla fine insuperabili per qualsiasi traduttore. Ma di certo non aiuta la versione kindle che ho letto, con frequenti note, ad esempio per alcune parole lasciate in russo; che però non si aprono nemmeno. Dovevo cercare di meglio
A quanto pare, a metà Ottocento, questo libro ebbe un grande successo perché denunciava con vigore le condizioni disumane di vita dei contadini russi, ma non è certo un pamphlet di denuncia. Uno dopo l'altro, senza espliciti ragionamenti né ideologie dichiarate, scorrono i racconti, sotto forma di ricordi di esperienze vissute andando a caccia. Ne emergono aspetti, situazioni e protagonisti della vita nella vasta campagna russa: grandi e piccoli proprietari, servi ricchi e poveri, stravaganti e vagabondi, gruppi di ragazzini che si raccontano storie di paura e amministratori che imbrogliano i padroni, orgogliosi nobili senza il becco di un quattrino e bellissime donne ridotte a una penosa immobilità; ogni tipo di uccello e il suo canto, la vegetazione sulle rive dei fiumi, boschi e paludi, molti cavalli, e carrozze, e cani. Sembra quasi di sentire le pause e le accelerazioni della narrazione ad alta voce da parte del cacciatore: girovago, sfaccendato, curioso del mondo e dei suoi abitanti, conversatore; con un punto di vista “signorile”, ma anche una notevole partecipazione umana aperta a tutti gli strati della società, a tutte le condizioni e i periodi della vita.
Il mondo lontano nel tempo e nello spazio, l'alternanza tra liricità possente, momenti colloquiali, intimi, drammatici, comici, grotteschi, e lo strenuo impegno descrittivo che fa uso di molti termini puntuali per la descrizione fisica delle persone, della condizione sociale a partire dal vestiario (gran numero di caffetani, gabbani, cambellotti…), degli animali e delle piante... sono tutte sfide alla fine insuperabili per qualsiasi traduttore. Ma di certo non aiuta la versione kindle che ho letto, con frequenti note, ad esempio per alcune parole lasciate in russo; che però non si aprono nemmeno. Dovevo cercare di meglio
September 26, 2022
Death doesn’t come running, but you can’t run away from it, neither; nor must you be helping it along.
These stories were remarkable. Each of them offered a bucolic resonance. Contemporary themes abound as modernity, liberal reform and the sanctity of the soil are explored with the serf standing as either comic relief or a stoic poignancy. The considerations on folk singing and horse trading were incredible but didn't prepare me for Living Relic which is gripping and never succumbs to pity. There's an admirable character on display, one both engaged and resigned.
As noted this collection was perfect for the strange beauty of Reykjavik. It was a delight to sit by the shore and read or sit in a cafe and plunge ahead.
These stories were remarkable. Each of them offered a bucolic resonance. Contemporary themes abound as modernity, liberal reform and the sanctity of the soil are explored with the serf standing as either comic relief or a stoic poignancy. The considerations on folk singing and horse trading were incredible but didn't prepare me for Living Relic which is gripping and never succumbs to pity. There's an admirable character on display, one both engaged and resigned.
As noted this collection was perfect for the strange beauty of Reykjavik. It was a delight to sit by the shore and read or sit in a cafe and plunge ahead.
March 16, 2025
Um exímio observador e um mestre absoluto na arte da descrição. Não esquecendo Tolstoi e Guimarães Rosa, estas podem ter sido das melhores páginas que já li no que toca ao relato paisagístico.
June 18, 2020
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ایوان تورگنیف یکی از سرآمدان عرصه نویسندگی روسیه به شمار میرود چرا که اولین نویسنده روس است که به طور جدی در اروپا حاضر و آثارش به چند زبان ترجمه شد. این در حالی است که او فاصله چندانی با نسل اول نویسندگان بزرگ روسیه، یعنی پوشکین و گوگول ندارد. او زیر نظر دوست نزدیک پوشکین، پلتنیوف، تحصیل کرد و در جوانی با پوشکین و گوگول دیدار کرد؛ در جوانی با غربگر��یان به نام محفل پطراشفسکی نیز مربوط بود. اما در سنین پختگی طبع، بیشتر اوقات خود را در خارج از روسیه گذراند و با هنرمندان و نویسندگان بانفوذ غرب، کسانی چون فلوبر و هنری جیمز و ژرژساند دوستی نزدیک به هم زد. به یمن این دوستیها، تورگنیف نخستین نویسنده روس بود که شهرت جهانی کسب کرد. علاوه بر تأثیری که بر نویسندگان بی شماری بر جای گذارد، نقش پررنگی هم در اصلاحات اجتماعی داشت. به گفته هنری جیمز، «خاطرات یک شکارچی» ایوان تورگنیف به همان اندازه در آزادسازی رعیتها در روسیه موثر بوده است که «کلبه عمو تام» در رهایی بردگان در آمریکا. ایوان گنچارف هم درباره همین مجموعه داستان میگوید: «هیچ کس نظام سرفداری را با چنین حساسیت هنری توصیف و تصویر نکرده بود. همه زشتیهای آن را به کمال نشان میداد، و به زحمت میتوان زندگی روستایی روسی را که با چنین دقت و ظرافتی وصف و توصیف شده باشد در جای دیگر دید! تورگنیف در عالم ادب همیشه در مقام یک مینیاتوریست بلندپایگاه باقی خواهد ماند».
ایوان تورگنیف یکی از سرآمدان عرصه نویسندگی روسیه به شمار میرود چرا که اولین نویسنده روس است که به طور جدی در اروپا حاضر و آثارش به چند زبان ترجمه شد. این در حالی است که او فاصله چندانی با نسل اول نویسندگان بزرگ روسیه، یعنی پوشکین و گوگول ندارد. او زیر نظر دوست نزدیک پوشکین، پلتنیوف، تحصیل کرد و در جوانی با پوشکین و گوگول دیدار کرد؛ در جوانی با غربگر��یان به نام محفل پطراشفسکی نیز مربوط بود. اما در سنین پختگی طبع، بیشتر اوقات خود را در خارج از روسیه گذراند و با هنرمندان و نویسندگان بانفوذ غرب، کسانی چون فلوبر و هنری جیمز و ژرژساند دوستی نزدیک به هم زد. به یمن این دوستیها، تورگنیف نخستین نویسنده روس بود که شهرت جهانی کسب کرد. علاوه بر تأثیری که بر نویسندگان بی شماری بر جای گذارد، نقش پررنگی هم در اصلاحات اجتماعی داشت. به گفته هنری جیمز، «خاطرات یک شکارچی» ایوان تورگنیف به همان اندازه در آزادسازی رعیتها در روسیه موثر بوده است که «کلبه عمو تام» در رهایی بردگان در آمریکا. ایوان گنچارف هم درباره همین مجموعه داستان میگوید: «هیچ کس نظام سرفداری را با چنین حساسیت هنری توصیف و تصویر نکرده بود. همه زشتیهای آن را به کمال نشان میداد، و به زحمت میتوان زندگی روستایی روسی را که با چنین دقت و ظرافتی وصف و توصیف شده باشد در جای دیگر دید! تورگنیف در عالم ادب همیشه در مقام یک مینیاتوریست بلندپایگاه باقی خواهد ماند».
August 20, 2025
به نام او
🔹️تورگنیف در بین بزرگان ادبیات روس غریب افتاده است آنچنانکه انوری و خاقانی و ناصرخسرو و صائب و چند تن دیگر از بزرگان غزلگو و قصیده سرا در بین جماعت شعردوست با اقبال کمتری مواجه هستند، چرا که ادبیات منظوم فارسی آنقدر ستاره پرفروغ دارد که بزرگانی نامشان آمد در ردههای بعدی قرار میگیرند. بهراستی اگر تورگنیف در روسیه قرن نوزدهم و در کنار بزرگانی چون تالستوی و داستایفسکی ظهور نمیکرد عظمتش بیشتر درک میشد. من هرچه از او خواندهام این عظمت را منعکس میکند و آثارش کموبیش تمام مولفههایی را که ما برای ادبیات درخشان روس برمیشمریم داراست. او هم مانند تالستوی نثرنویس و توصیفگر است و همچون داستایفسکی روانکاو و هم سادگی و در عین حال عمق داستانهایش، داستانهای چخوف را فرایاد میآورد و از اینجا مشخص میشود که چخوف بزرگ بسیار مدیون تورگنیف نیز هست. البته اگر همه این مولفهها را منفردا با یکدیگر مقایسه کنیم کفه طرف مقابل تورگنیف سنگینی میکند.
🔸️«شکارچی در سایهروشن زندگی» آخرین کتابی بود که از او خواندهام. مجموعه داستان یا طرحهایی که او درباره زندگی سرفها (رعیتها) و زمیندارهای قرن هجدهم روسیه نوشته است. ما درخلال این داستانها هم با منابع طبیعی و جغرافیای روسیه آشنا میشویم و هم مردمان آن. تورگنیف با قلم توصیفگر و شاعرانهاش طبیعت را با زیبایی هرچه تمامتر به تصویر میکشد و با روانکاوی رعیتها و زمینداران ما را بهخوبی با روسهای قرن هجدهم آشنا میکند. از این جنبه این کتاب مرا به یاد رمان «نفوس مرده» نیکلای گوگول انداخت. ترجمه بهزاد برکت و هرمز ریاحی که از زوجهای خوب ترجمه ایران هستند هم شاهکار است و بهخوبی نثر شاعرانه تورگنیف را به زبان فارسی برگرداندهاند. پیشتر کتاب با عنوان «خاطرات یک شکارچی» به فارسی منتشر شده است و من آن را ندیدهام ولی این یکی تقریبا نیمی از طرحهای تورگنیف است که از کتاب اصلی برگزیده شده و ترجمه شده است. داستانهای «یرمولا و زن آسیابان»، «هملت ناحیه شچیگروفسکی» «جنگل و استپ» و «کالبد حی» از داستانهای مورد علاقه من از این مجموعه است. و اما بخشی از طرح «جنگل و استپ»؛
🔸️«و روزی از روزهای زمستانی. سر در پی خرگوشهای صحرایی از تودههای برف میگذری، در هوای یخ زده گزنده نفس میکشی و در برابر درخشش خیرهکننده برف نرم چشم میگردانی، ناخواسته در تهرنگ سبز آسمان بیشهای که به سرخی میرود سیر میکنی!... پس آنگاه نخستین روزهای بهاری از راه میرسند و دوروبر تو همه چیزی برق میزند و میپاشد. بوی زمین اندکاندک از بخار سنگین برفی که آب میشود برمیخیزد. چکاوکها در پرتو تند آفتاب بر برف گداخته نغمه سرمیدهند. سیلابها با همهمه و غریوی سرخوشانه از آبکندی به آبکندی میغلتند.
اما اکنون زمان وداع است. از بهار گفتهام، چرا که در بهار وداع آسان است.»
🔹️تورگنیف در بین بزرگان ادبیات روس غریب افتاده است آنچنانکه انوری و خاقانی و ناصرخسرو و صائب و چند تن دیگر از بزرگان غزلگو و قصیده سرا در بین جماعت شعردوست با اقبال کمتری مواجه هستند، چرا که ادبیات منظوم فارسی آنقدر ستاره پرفروغ دارد که بزرگانی نامشان آمد در ردههای بعدی قرار میگیرند. بهراستی اگر تورگنیف در روسیه قرن نوزدهم و در کنار بزرگانی چون تالستوی و داستایفسکی ظهور نمیکرد عظمتش بیشتر درک میشد. من هرچه از او خواندهام این عظمت را منعکس میکند و آثارش کموبیش تمام مولفههایی را که ما برای ادبیات درخشان روس برمیشمریم داراست. او هم مانند تالستوی نثرنویس و توصیفگر است و همچون داستایفسکی روانکاو و هم سادگی و در عین حال عمق داستانهایش، داستانهای چخوف را فرایاد میآورد و از اینجا مشخص میشود که چخوف بزرگ بسیار مدیون تورگنیف نیز هست. البته اگر همه این مولفهها را منفردا با یکدیگر مقایسه کنیم کفه طرف مقابل تورگنیف سنگینی میکند.
🔸️«شکارچی در سایهروشن زندگی» آخرین کتابی بود که از او خواندهام. مجموعه داستان یا طرحهایی که او درباره زندگی سرفها (رعیتها) و زمیندارهای قرن هجدهم روسیه نوشته است. ما درخلال این داستانها هم با منابع طبیعی و جغرافیای روسیه آشنا میشویم و هم مردمان آن. تورگنیف با قلم توصیفگر و شاعرانهاش طبیعت را با زیبایی هرچه تمامتر به تصویر میکشد و با روانکاوی رعیتها و زمینداران ما را بهخوبی با روسهای قرن هجدهم آشنا میکند. از این جنبه این کتاب مرا به یاد رمان «نفوس مرده» نیکلای گوگول انداخت. ترجمه بهزاد برکت و هرمز ریاحی که از زوجهای خوب ترجمه ایران هستند هم شاهکار است و بهخوبی نثر شاعرانه تورگنیف را به زبان فارسی برگرداندهاند. پیشتر کتاب با عنوان «خاطرات یک شکارچی» به فارسی منتشر شده است و من آن را ندیدهام ولی این یکی تقریبا نیمی از طرحهای تورگنیف است که از کتاب اصلی برگزیده شده و ترجمه شده است. داستانهای «یرمولا و زن آسیابان»، «هملت ناحیه شچیگروفسکی» «جنگل و استپ» و «کالبد حی» از داستانهای مورد علاقه من از این مجموعه است. و اما بخشی از طرح «جنگل و استپ»؛
🔸️«و روزی از روزهای زمستانی. سر در پی خرگوشهای صحرایی از تودههای برف میگذری، در هوای یخ زده گزنده نفس میکشی و در برابر درخشش خیرهکننده برف نرم چشم میگردانی، ناخواسته در تهرنگ سبز آسمان بیشهای که به سرخی میرود سیر میکنی!... پس آنگاه نخستین روزهای بهاری از راه میرسند و دوروبر تو همه چیزی برق میزند و میپاشد. بوی زمین اندکاندک از بخار سنگین برفی که آب میشود برمیخیزد. چکاوکها در پرتو تند آفتاب بر برف گداخته نغمه سرمیدهند. سیلابها با همهمه و غریوی سرخوشانه از آبکندی به آبکندی میغلتند.
اما اکنون زمان وداع است. از بهار گفتهام، چرا که در بهار وداع آسان است.»
March 10, 2021
Tengo una edición Espasa Calpe muy viejita del año 1946 de este libro que incluye solo diez de los veinticinco “Relatos de un cazador” en los que Turguéniev, a través de las andanzas de un cazador por el campo, monte y estepas rusas nos va contando cómo es la vida de los campesinos, los siervos y la gente más humilde y representativa del pueblo ruso.
Es a mi entender un reflejo fiel de Turguéniev, aunque viniendo de un autor que abrazó la europeización de Rusia más que a su propio pueblo (de hecho vivió más fuera de Rusia que dentro) no me termina convenciendo demasiados.
Los relatos son simples y por momentos un tanto aburridos. Un libro para leer cuando uno no tiene otra opción más interesante a mano.
Es a mi entender un reflejo fiel de Turguéniev, aunque viniendo de un autor que abrazó la europeización de Rusia más que a su propio pueblo (de hecho vivió más fuera de Rusia que dentro) no me termina convenciendo demasiados.
Los relatos son simples y por momentos un tanto aburridos. Un libro para leer cuando uno no tiene otra opción más interesante a mano.
April 26, 2022
Review to follow
July 15, 2017
It’s strange how things happen in life: you live with someone for a long time, you are on the best of terms, yet you never once speak to them frankly and from the heart; with someone else, you’ve hardly even got acquainted - and there you are: as if at confession, one or other of you is blurting out all his most intimate secrets. (41)A Sportman’s Notebook comprises 25 stories that center on the sportman’s (that is, the hunter’s) life. The stories freely and poignantly portray the hardships of life in rural Russia at the time; in particular the plight of the peasants, who suffered much in the forms of abject poverty and abuse by their masters. It is said that Turgenev’s stories contributed to Tsar Alexander II’s decision to liberate the serfs. The stories extend beyond mere socio-political criticism, however; Turgenev, as is his wont, describes the countryside and its inhabitants with great feeling and vividness. Henry James, contemporary and friend of Turgenev, complained of the atmosphere of unrelieved sadness in the latter's writing; and, surely, you are left every now and then with a feeling of having been kicked in the gut. Of all other writers that I know, Hemingway comes closest to emulating this effect; and he, of course, was a great admirer of Turgenev, calling him the greatest writer ever, and citing A Sportman’s Notebook as an example for his own short stories.
There is much more to be said, but I’m feeling ill, so I’ll cut the review short, at least for now – perhaps I'll add to it later.
It is a sorry fate not to know in the morning how you are going to fill your belly before the day is done. (33)It was, is, and always will be. Of all the Russians, Turgenev, I think, was the most compassionate.
April 20, 2013
I bought this for the cover art. I love everything about Jevgraf Fiodorovitch Krendovsky's 1836 painting Preparations for Hunting (in the Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow). The calm, subdued, but rich color palette, the glances the young hunters, and the young boy on the left, are giving each other, the angles of arms and legs, the devoted hunting dog with its paw on its master's leg, the attention to details of fashion and outerwear. It many ways it's a perfect choice for cover art for the book (so much cover art is incomprehensibly ill-matched). These sketches by Turgenev almost all begin with a hunter setting out on a hunt, with a hunting companion or alone, on his horse or in some kind of cart or carriage, with his hunting dog. And the hunting going on here is an upper class pursuit. We can tell from the painting that that's an upper class residence, upper class young men. When the lower classes "hunt," it's usually called poaching, because hunting involves land, and landowners, and private property. So when Turgenev's first person narrator goes out hunting in one sketch, and the landowner confronts him and asks him what he's doing, the situation quickly resolves because they're two aristocrats and the aristocratic privilege to hunt is extended from one landowner to another.
As Richard Freeborn's excellent introduction explains, hunting is the pretext for these sketches. What they're really about, which the Russian government understood because it exiled Turgenev to his estate after the Sketches were published, is the terrible conditions of serfdom and servitude in Russia. Every sketch contains some poor wretch who is cold, hungry, or orphaned, or whose master won't allow him or her to get married, or won't sell her to a man who wants to marry her (!), or some serf being administered a beating by the landowner's bailiff, or some woman being beaten by some man, and most of them contain unhappy dogs who are never fed or burrow into the ground from cold and hunger.
In spite of the subject matter, Turgenev maintains a certain calm distance from it. I wouldn't say there's a consistent tone of irony throughout, but occasionally irony is put to brilliant use, as in this passage from the first sketch, "Khor and Kalinych:"
While out hunting in the Zhizdra region I became acquainted with a small Kaluga landowner, Polutykin, also a passionate hunter and, consequently, an excellent fellow. Admittedly, he had acquired one or two weaknesses: for instance, he paid court to all the rich young ladies of marriageable age in the province and, being refused both their hands and admission to their homes, confessed his grief heartbrokenly to all his friends and acquaintances while continuing to send the young ladies' parents gifts of sour peaches and other raw produce from his garden; he was fond of repeating one and the same anecdote which, despite Polutykin's high opinion of its merits, simply failed to make anyone laugh; he was full of praise for the works of Akim Nakhimov and the story Pinna; he had a stammer; he called his dog Astronomer; instead of however he used to say howsoever, and he introduced in his own house a French cuisine, the secret of which, according to his cook's ideas, consisted in completely altering the natural taste of each dish: in the hands of this culinary master meat turned out to be fish, fish became mushrooms, and macaroni ended up dry as powder; moreover, no carrot would be permitted in a soup that had not first assumed a rhomboidal or trapezoidal shape. But apart from these minor and insignificant failings Polutykin was, as I've said, an excellent fellow.
There is fantastic anthropomorphizing, especially of dogs. Astronomer, referred to above, is accompanying the narrator and some peasants on a cart ride:
"Let Astronomer be seated!" exclaimed Polutykin pompously.
Fedya, not without a show of pleasure, lifted the uneasily smiling dog into the air and deposited it on the floor of the cart.
In another sketch a landowner is attempting to teach his poodle the ABCs, which the dog unhappily refuses to learn. "He gave the dog a shove with his foot. The wretched dog rose up calmly, let the bread drop off its nose and walked away, deeply offended, into the hallway literally on tip-toe. And with good reason: here was a stranger come to visit for the first time and look how they treated him!"
Turgenev's other strengths on display here are his wonderful powers of description, both of physical environments and people. No character is introduced without a complete rundown of his appearance, including hair, face, figure, and clothes. The novel's realism makes it a valuable historical document.
November 6, 2017
one of the most beautiful books ever written
There was a moment, long back, when you lay in the dry, brown grass on Blueberry Hill, listening to the whispering wind on a bright September day. A catbird mewed off in the little green woods down by the tracks. A rabbit thumped once or twice; a white sea gull soared over your head in the brilliant blue sky that held promise of a crisp New England fall to come. The gull headed out to sea, that dark blue Atlantic lying just beyond the old seaside mansions of Boston executives, already boarded up for the season. Your thoughts flew off with the gull, to life beyond that little town on a rocky peninsula, but the clear light, the smell of the sea, the tiny mewing of a catbird--these stayed with you forever. Fifty years later, it's all gone except the sea. A writer tries to catch the world around him (her). The best create word-portraits that preserve the past into the future.
Turgenev caught the Russian countryside south of Moscow as it was in the 1840s, when serfdom still ruled, and hunters could roam properties at will. His lyrical descriptions of nature, in my opinion, have never been surpassed; on every page, you feel as if you were there. Your head fills with the beauties he saw, you cannot remain untouched. Turgenev wrote of the enduring peasantry warts and all, no simplistic pictures for him, and he lambasted the vanity or predatory nature of the landlord class. SKETCHES FROM A HUNTER'S ALBUM is just that, only a series of separate pictures composed around the author's trips through the countryside to hunt. Religion and poetry suffuse the pages along with insightful portraits of many individuals. "Bezhin Lea", "Kasyan from the Beautiful Lands" and "Bailiff" will impress you with their psychological excellence along with the beauty of their descriptions. "Singers" has to be one of the most powerful stories of music ever told. "The Living Relic" reminded me of India in its acceptance of human fate, though it is certainly a Russian tale of those times. Almost every story is a masterpiece by itself. In short, in all my readings throughout my life, I can scarcely recall a more beautiful book than this. I recently re-read it. It is ridiculous to give it five stars. If Russian literature contained only this book, it would already be world-renowned. Read some of my other reviews---you'll see I don't say this lightly.
There was a moment, long back, when you lay in the dry, brown grass on Blueberry Hill, listening to the whispering wind on a bright September day. A catbird mewed off in the little green woods down by the tracks. A rabbit thumped once or twice; a white sea gull soared over your head in the brilliant blue sky that held promise of a crisp New England fall to come. The gull headed out to sea, that dark blue Atlantic lying just beyond the old seaside mansions of Boston executives, already boarded up for the season. Your thoughts flew off with the gull, to life beyond that little town on a rocky peninsula, but the clear light, the smell of the sea, the tiny mewing of a catbird--these stayed with you forever. Fifty years later, it's all gone except the sea. A writer tries to catch the world around him (her). The best create word-portraits that preserve the past into the future.
Turgenev caught the Russian countryside south of Moscow as it was in the 1840s, when serfdom still ruled, and hunters could roam properties at will. His lyrical descriptions of nature, in my opinion, have never been surpassed; on every page, you feel as if you were there. Your head fills with the beauties he saw, you cannot remain untouched. Turgenev wrote of the enduring peasantry warts and all, no simplistic pictures for him, and he lambasted the vanity or predatory nature of the landlord class. SKETCHES FROM A HUNTER'S ALBUM is just that, only a series of separate pictures composed around the author's trips through the countryside to hunt. Religion and poetry suffuse the pages along with insightful portraits of many individuals. "Bezhin Lea", "Kasyan from the Beautiful Lands" and "Bailiff" will impress you with their psychological excellence along with the beauty of their descriptions. "Singers" has to be one of the most powerful stories of music ever told. "The Living Relic" reminded me of India in its acceptance of human fate, though it is certainly a Russian tale of those times. Almost every story is a masterpiece by itself. In short, in all my readings throughout my life, I can scarcely recall a more beautiful book than this. I recently re-read it. It is ridiculous to give it five stars. If Russian literature contained only this book, it would already be world-renowned. Read some of my other reviews---you'll see I don't say this lightly.
February 20, 2008
Suggested to me by Hemingway, who was reading it in A Misspelled Moveable Feast, and I had to read it, too. And I took it on a deer-hunting trip to Maine, and we got snowed in, and the Franklin wood-burning stove glowed in the kitchen for days as I read and I read and was completely submersed in Turgenev's magical world of peasants and hunting noblemen. Sometimes where you read a book stamps it forever in your heart.
sampled
January 28, 2025A landowner (named Turgenev) paints dewy-eyed portraits of muzhiks. 80 pages was enough.
April 22, 2021
A very charming collection of stories and sketches by a progressive nobleman arguing for the end of servage in Russia. This book's enormous popularity in France made Turgenev a literary star and created a public in Europe for Russian literature. Tolstoy and Dostoevsky were the first great beneficiaries of Turgenev's success.
Read
April 24, 2025أنه من المرعب أن تموت في الخامسة والعشرين من عمرك دونما أن تحب أحدا.
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غالبًا ما تترك أكثر الأشياء تفاهة إنطباعات كبيرة في الناس، اثر مما تفعله الأشياء البالغة الخطورة.
July 14, 2016
So much warmth in here, humor, good old-fashioned fun of a Russian hunter traversing fields and steppes and forests, shooting game and meeting a whole array of amusing characters, including dogs, horses, and pigs. The tragedy of Russian peasantry goes here hand-in-hand with loving observations, small beautiful moments, particularly those about nature. I could smell them.
June 25, 2018
ابدع أيفان تورغيف في وصف الحياه البريه في روسيا القديمة وكيف كانت حياة الصيادين والمزارعين
هذه الحوارات تاخذك في عالمهم البسيط والجميل
مع معاناة الحياه ، الا ان روح البساطة تسود الأجواء
هذه الحوارات تاخذك في عالمهم البسيط والجميل
مع معاناة الحياه ، الا ان روح البساطة تسود الأجواء
August 21, 2022
A socially valuable collection of tedious, overly-descriptive short stories. I only really enjoyed one of the included stories (“The Country Doctor”). However, the value of the collection comes from having a wealthy, masculine, land-owning nobleman who is living a life of leisure—a sportsman—notice and discuss the suffering of peasants and women in the time before serfdom was abolished in Russia, a time period when the poor were mistreated in every way imaginable (e.g., being thrown out of their homes after their children died and they couldn’t pay rent, having their sons sent unfairly and out of turn to fight in the army), were beaten regularly, and were even prevented from marrying on the pain of losing their job:
“She lived in a miserable half-ruined hut, managed to exist somehow, never knew the day before whether she would have enough to eat on the morrow; altogether hers was a wretched lot” (p. 20).
“It is a sorry fate not to know in the morning how you are going to fill your belly before the day is done” (p. 33).
“…it was wicked for a landowner not to care about the welfare of his peasants” (p. 69).
“…so suddenly he gave orders that all the old women in the village were to be whipped. And whipped they were” (p. 303).
The problem with the collection and the reason it is not enjoyable is that in almost every one of the included short stories, 75% of the text is devoted to describing the setting and introducing the characters, while only 25% tells the story. Here is an example:
“Imagine, dear reader, a small, fair-haired man with a little red turned-up nose and interminable ginger side-whiskers. A pointed Persian cap with a top made of raspberry-coloured cloth covered his forehead right down to the eyebrows. He wore a shabby yellow coat with black cartridge-pleats at the chest and faded silver braid at all the seams; from his shoulders hung a horn, out of his belt stuck a dagger. His scraggy, hook-nosed, sorrel horse fidgeted under him like one possessed; two thin crooked-legged borzoi dogs kept circling close beneath it. The stranger’s face, his look, his voice, all his movements, his whole being, breathed a crazy bravado and a limitless, unheard-of arrogance; his pale-blue glassy eyes rolled and squinted like a drunkard’s; he threw his head back, puffed out his cheeks, whinnied and twitched all over, as though from a surfeit of dignity—a regular turkey-cock of a man” (p. 298).
“She lived in a miserable half-ruined hut, managed to exist somehow, never knew the day before whether she would have enough to eat on the morrow; altogether hers was a wretched lot” (p. 20).
“It is a sorry fate not to know in the morning how you are going to fill your belly before the day is done” (p. 33).
“…it was wicked for a landowner not to care about the welfare of his peasants” (p. 69).
“…so suddenly he gave orders that all the old women in the village were to be whipped. And whipped they were” (p. 303).
The problem with the collection and the reason it is not enjoyable is that in almost every one of the included short stories, 75% of the text is devoted to describing the setting and introducing the characters, while only 25% tells the story. Here is an example:
“Imagine, dear reader, a small, fair-haired man with a little red turned-up nose and interminable ginger side-whiskers. A pointed Persian cap with a top made of raspberry-coloured cloth covered his forehead right down to the eyebrows. He wore a shabby yellow coat with black cartridge-pleats at the chest and faded silver braid at all the seams; from his shoulders hung a horn, out of his belt stuck a dagger. His scraggy, hook-nosed, sorrel horse fidgeted under him like one possessed; two thin crooked-legged borzoi dogs kept circling close beneath it. The stranger’s face, his look, his voice, all his movements, his whole being, breathed a crazy bravado and a limitless, unheard-of arrogance; his pale-blue glassy eyes rolled and squinted like a drunkard’s; he threw his head back, puffed out his cheeks, whinnied and twitched all over, as though from a surfeit of dignity—a regular turkey-cock of a man” (p. 298).
August 2, 2023
Ho “scoperto” che la lentezza con la quale termino un libro, spesso è anche indice della sua bellezza poiché evidentemente in maniera inconscia tendo a ritardarne il commiato. E quest’opera, della quale conoscevo qualche racconto antologizzato per la purezza delle descrizioni (paesaggistiche ed umane) è un’opera straordinaria, bellissima, che merita davvero d’essere centellinata e goduta riga dopo riga. Gli ultimi racconti, in particolare, sono commoventi. Ma che siano semplici narrazioni (magari di secondo, terzo livello) o pure descrizioni, ciascuna narrazione possiede un respiro ed una vita che rigenera ogni lettore, anche il meno esperto. In definitiva, una di quelle opere verso le quali si è consci di dover tornare, rileggendola a mezza voce, per rimuginare la sua esemplarità letteraria.
July 3, 2022
Записки охотника - это сборник рассказов Тургенева о простой жизни русского народа, о тех, кого автор встретил во время охоты по России.
Тургенева я читала только в школе и, так как я сейчас на миссии по повторению русской классики, решила перечитать и его.
Тургенев невероятно много места на страницах уделяет детальному описанию ситуации: тут есть и запахи полевых цветов, и серебряный блеск росы на траве, и передразнивания птиц в лесу и многое другое! Сюжета, как такового, невероятно мало. Зато есть глубокое погружение в русскую деревню, кабаки, и дремучий лес.
Поговорим о некоторых рассказах. «Бежин луг» гласит о том, как автор потерялся в лесу и ночью набрёл на мальчиков, которые пасут табун. Мальчики его приняли (чего нельзя сказать об их собаках) и автор притворился спящим, в то время как мальчики оживленно рассказывали про домовых, русалок, водяных и многих других жителей русского фольклора.
«Живые мощи» - тут по названию можно понять, что рассказ не из простых. Очень тяжело было его осваивать, невероятные чувства переживания включаются в этом рассказе. Тургенев встретил тут бывшую крестьянку своей матери, которой было только 28 лет, но выглядела она так, как внемлет нам название. Ещё ребёнком автор был влюблён в неё, но сейчас было её практически не узнать. Она как 7 лет уже лежит, не подымаясь. Она упала с холма и с тех пор бедная жизнь её стала полна страданий, беспокойных снов и вечных наблюдений на природной.
Гамлет Щигровского уезда- занимательный рассказ про человека, который ведает автору свою пикантную жизнь.
Все рассказы насыщены лексикой, которая для меня нова и уже не встречается в современной речи: целовальник, в околотке и многие другие!
Тургенева я читала только в школе и, так как я сейчас на миссии по повторению русской классики, решила перечитать и его.
Тургенев невероятно много места на страницах уделяет детальному описанию ситуации: тут есть и запахи полевых цветов, и серебряный блеск росы на траве, и передразнивания птиц в лесу и многое другое! Сюжета, как такового, невероятно мало. Зато есть глубокое погружение в русскую деревню, кабаки, и дремучий лес.
Поговорим о некоторых рассказах. «Бежин луг» гласит о том, как автор потерялся в лесу и ночью набрёл на мальчиков, которые пасут табун. Мальчики его приняли (чего нельзя сказать об их собаках) и автор притворился спящим, в то время как мальчики оживленно рассказывали про домовых, русалок, водяных и многих других жителей русского фольклора.
«Живые мощи» - тут по названию можно понять, что рассказ не из простых. Очень тяжело было его осваивать, невероятные чувства переживания включаются в этом рассказе. Тургенев встретил тут бывшую крестьянку своей матери, которой было только 28 лет, но выглядела она так, как внемлет нам название. Ещё ребёнком автор был влюблён в неё, но сейчас было её практически не узнать. Она как 7 лет уже лежит, не подымаясь. Она упала с холма и с тех пор бедная жизнь её стала полна страданий, беспокойных снов и вечных наблюдений на природной.
Гамлет Щигровского уезда- занимательный рассказ про человека, который ведает автору свою пикантную жизнь.
Все рассказы насыщены лексикой, которая для меня нова и уже не встречается в современной речи: целовальник, в околотке и многие другие!
April 9, 2013
In his Preface to "The Seasons" the Scottish poet James Thomson wrote, "I know no subject more elevating, more amazing, more ready to poetical enthusiasm, the philosophical reflection, and the moral sentiment than the works of nature. Where can we meet such variety, such beauty, such magnificence?"
This is a theme that runs through the Sketches From a Hunter's Album. The beauty of the sylvan glade or the summer sun glistening off the meadows flowers is brought to life by the prose of Turgenev in these vignettes. Certainly the characters are also finely drawn and include all social stratas while emphasizing the narrator's interactions with peasants and serfs. It is the latter that impress the reader by the respect and generosity with which they are treated. The combination of fascinating characters and beautiful nature writing made this book a joy to read. I found myself looking forward to the next chapter with expectation that I would be treated to another even more interesting facet of the countryside and its denizens. I was not disappointed until the end of the book and only then because I did not want it to end.
Considering this book was first published in 1852 after having appeared serially as separate sketches, it is a further wonder because the serfs would not be freed for another decade. These short stories revealed Turgenev's unique talent for story-telling. And they greatly influenced Russian short story writers into the early 20th century, including Anton Chekhov, Ivan Bunin, Alexander Kuprin and others. The stories remain fresh today, even in translation, and reward the reader with their magnificence. But let me leave you with a quote from Turgenev himself that expresses my feelings as well:
“the deep, pure blue stirs on one’s lips a smile, innocent as itself; like the clouds over the sky, and, as it were, with them, happy memories pass in slow procession over the soul”
This is a theme that runs through the Sketches From a Hunter's Album. The beauty of the sylvan glade or the summer sun glistening off the meadows flowers is brought to life by the prose of Turgenev in these vignettes. Certainly the characters are also finely drawn and include all social stratas while emphasizing the narrator's interactions with peasants and serfs. It is the latter that impress the reader by the respect and generosity with which they are treated. The combination of fascinating characters and beautiful nature writing made this book a joy to read. I found myself looking forward to the next chapter with expectation that I would be treated to another even more interesting facet of the countryside and its denizens. I was not disappointed until the end of the book and only then because I did not want it to end.
Considering this book was first published in 1852 after having appeared serially as separate sketches, it is a further wonder because the serfs would not be freed for another decade. These short stories revealed Turgenev's unique talent for story-telling. And they greatly influenced Russian short story writers into the early 20th century, including Anton Chekhov, Ivan Bunin, Alexander Kuprin and others. The stories remain fresh today, even in translation, and reward the reader with their magnificence. But let me leave you with a quote from Turgenev himself that expresses my feelings as well:
“the deep, pure blue stirs on one’s lips a smile, innocent as itself; like the clouds over the sky, and, as it were, with them, happy memories pass in slow procession over the soul”
August 12, 2010
One of the finest books I've ever read. It sits on the top shelf with those few select novels that really changed my life. Historically, the book was instrumental in swaying public opinion, particularly among the aristocracy, towards emancipating the serfs.
The stories are really the account of a cultural anthropologist disguised as a 'sportsman'. He isn't really terribly interested in hunting; no, his true fascination is with the peasants that accompany him and that he encounters along the way. While he views them very much through the lens of a country gentleman, his insights, empathy, and resonance of the human condition penetrates class and makes for some extraordinary moments.
Highly recommend. I'd also read this before 'Fathers and Sons' for context.
The stories are really the account of a cultural anthropologist disguised as a 'sportsman'. He isn't really terribly interested in hunting; no, his true fascination is with the peasants that accompany him and that he encounters along the way. While he views them very much through the lens of a country gentleman, his insights, empathy, and resonance of the human condition penetrates class and makes for some extraordinary moments.
Highly recommend. I'd also read this before 'Fathers and Sons' for context.
October 25, 2015
Reading this for a class. Turgenev is a very good writer, but these short pieces are not really stories - more like character sketches that you'd find in a writer's notebook. The author excels at setting a scene. His descriptions are gorgeous, and he also does a good job of describing the physical characteristics of the characters as he introduces him. The dialogue is, occasionally, very good, but more often than not, it's banal and sometimes even borders on caricature. I don't know how much of this is due to the translation, since the original was not written in English, after all. Bottom line: this is a good book for writers to study, but it's not a particularly compelling read, in my opinion, and I had to force myself to stick with it.
January 29, 2016
Really good. As in incredible. It's Turgenev. It's unbelievably good. I feel completely stupid reviewing it. It's like reviewing a Beethoven symphony. It's magnificent, incredibly evocative. Just spectacular.
Also, a great deal of it takes place outside. I love being outside so that's a selling point, a huge one, as far as I'm concerned.
Also, a great deal of it takes place outside. I love being outside so that's a selling point, a huge one, as far as I'm concerned.
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