Madrabaz Kvaçi

by Mikheil Javakhishvili, Parna-Beka Çilaşvili (Translator)

XX. yüzyıl Gürcü edebiyatının şaheserlerinden biri …

Gürcü edebiyatının en saygın isimlerinden biri olan Miheil Cavahişvili’nin bu en beğenilen ve günümüzde artık bir klasik haline gelmiş romanı Madrabaz Kvaçi, sizlere her zaman kendisini düşünen ve çabuk para kazanma uğruna yapamayacağı kurnazlık olmayan genç bir adamın ve arkadaşlarının destansı hikâyesini anlatıyor… Kvaçi’nin yaşamını sürdürmeye uğraştığı Çarlık Rusyası, dönemin yöneticilerini parmaklarında oynatan Rasputin, yaşanan Dünya Savaşı ve ardından gelen Bolşevik Devrimi kitaba inanılmaz zenginlikte bir arka plan hazırlıyor. Üstelik bu görkemli maceranın İstanbul’da sona erişi de Türk okurları için ilginç ve keyifli bir ayrıntı oluşturuyor…

“Kvaçantiradze oturmuş encamını düşünüyordu. Bakın, peşini bırakmayan kader onu nerede yakalamıştı! Onun bütün yaşamı işte bu şekilde son bulacaktı! Hem de nasıl? İnsani olmayan bir biçimde, böyle ot gibi! Kvaçi’nin kaç kez badire atlatmış olduğunu kim sayacaktı! Bütün ülke Kvaçantiradze’yi avlamaya çıkmıştı, fakat onun başında görünmezlik şapkası vardı. Demir Tepe’nin sırtlarında süngü elinde herkesi delik deşik ederken, ona hançer saplamışlar, fakat o yine de “dimdik” ayağa kalkmıştı. Petro‐Pavel Hapishanesi’nde darağacı kurmuşlardı, ama o kuş olup oradan da uçmuştu. Ukrayna bozkırlarında dokuz kişiyle kırk kişinin üstesinden gelmiş ve Kızılların tuzaklarından en az on kez kurtulmuştu. Şimdiyse... Burada, kendi vatanında... Acaba? Acaba Kvaçi bir kez daha kalın duvarı yıkıp, demir kafesi bir kez daha eritemez miydi?” Türkçe olarak ilk kez yayımlanıyor…

Genres: Georgian, Fiction, Historical Fiction, Literature, Novels, 20th Century, Classics

416 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1925

About the author

Mikheil Javakhishvili (Georgian: მიხეილ ჯავახიშვილი; other surname: Adamashvili, ადამაშვილი) (November 8, 1880 – September 30, 1937) was a Georgian novelist who is regarded as one of the top twentieth-century Georgian writers. His first story appeared in 1903, but then the writer lapsed into a long pause before returning to writing in the early 1920s. His recalcitrance to the Soviet ideological pressure cost him life: he was executed during Joseph Stalin's Great Purge and his writings were banned for nearly twenty years. In the words of the modern British scholar of Russian and Georgian literature, Donald Rayfield, "his vivid story-telling, straight in medias res, his buoyant humour, subtle irony, and moral courage merit comparison with those of Stendhal, Guy de Maupassant, and Emile Zola. In modern Georgian prose only Konstantine Gamsakhurdia could aspire to the same international level."[1]

Reviews

[Vit Babenco · Rating 5 out of 5]

Kvachi is a piece of the early twentieth century history seen through the eyes of a con man. The technique of seduction, deceiving and bamboozling is described so meticulously that the novel reads almost as a swindler’s manual. Ever since his schooldays, hypocrisy and meanness were the only science Kvachi has been learning…

If Kvachi was determined to get close to someone, man or woman, that person would within two weeks or so end up totally captivated by him.
Kvachi was clever with clever people, serious with serious people, frivolous with the frivolous, melancholy with the melancholy, joyful with the joyful, but submissive, sycophantic, obsequious, respectful, and ever-smiling with the powerful. But if he had to be, he was able to be humble and witty when he was in coarse or troublesome company; to be insolent, haughty, and headstrong with the weak; to be treacherous, hypocritical, and two-faced with the frank and forthright; to be unfathomably false with the treacherous; to be a reed with an oak, and an oak with a reed; to be cotton with iron, and iron with cotton.

Starting with stealing little, the older Kvachi grew the bigger he stole. For him there were no other ideals but riches and women… And also women as a way to money and luxury.
The best way to reach money is the power so rascals always whirl around the power as flies whirl around crap. And who might open the road to the supreme power wider than the great religious rogue Grigory Rasputin?

There’s a button torn off Rasputin’s silk gown, his sleeves are rolled up, his hair is dishevelled and falling over his eyebrows, his eyes are bloodshot, his head overheated and foggy.
His oily and glowing eyes have a beast swimming in them; his heart is on fire, and he knows no peace, but is as excited as a wild animal in a cage. He lets his hands wander everywhere and drinks anything he can lay his hands on; he bellows out filthy songs as well as hymns; like a gun, he shoots out incomprehensible words and street language, and these strike Tania, Elena, and the women singers in the heart like arrows. He is constantly falling upon one or the other of the women:
“Why are you acting up? Why are you behaving like an unbroken filly? If we’re having a party, then let’s do it our way, the peasant way. Undo your buttons. Show me your breasts. Take off your clothes.”

But time and history don’t stand still and as the saying goes: the pitcher will go to the well once too often…

[MJ Nicholls · Rating 4 out of 5]

The East European nation of Georgia (Russia to the north, Turkey to the south) masks a secret wellspring of terrific fiction from past and present, some of which is being made available via new translations from Dalkey Archive. Kvachi, first written as a series of sketches and reworked into a novel, was published in 1925, a year after the author evaded execution for supporting the socialist party, and less fortunate writers met the brunt of the Communist uprising. A long-buried Georgian classic in the picaresque mould of Cervantes and Fielding with a nod towards the French decadents, Kvachi is an exhausting stop-start rags-to-riches-to-rags tale featuring the titular confidence trickster, whose talent for hoodwinking the common to the noble knows no limitations, and whose skill for evading the noose in even the most improbable of circumstances borders on divine providence. Kvachi’s adventures commence in Georgia, migrate to Russia in the court of Rasputin (to whom K becomes friend and confidante), and take in the extravagance of Paris and chaos of Communist Europe, where the more interesting historical comment is housed in a novel devoid of such frill as psychological depth or critical volleys towards the regimes of the time (the author was tortured for two months during the Great Terror of 1937, then executed—his reticence to ‘speak out’ is understandable), although the depiction of Kvachi’s life was shocking and provocative for the era. The figure of the self-made scoundrel is popular in Georgia and other East European countries, having a famous bedfellow in Jaroslav Hašek’s hilarious The Good Soldier Švejk, published in Czech in 1923. Kvachi fast descends into a sequence of scrapes and their (sometimes) positive outcomes (there are several macabre murder and torture scenes), and often lacks of the coherence of a proper novel (as a series of sketches might do), but always leaves the reader routing for the scoundrel in spite of his sins, and the fast-paced dialogue, black humour, and camaraderie-among-thieves keeps the antics fun and ingenious for the duration. Recommended for fans of daring and rebellious literature.

[Uğur Karabürk · Rating 5 out of 5]

Pikaresk roman tarzında yazılmış bir eserdi. Okurken keyif aldım diyebilirim. Yazarın diğer kitabı olan Lambalo ve Kaşa'yı da alıp okumaz farz oldu. :D

[Caroline · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another one I wanted to write a good long review of but the library wants its book back.

This is a raucous, insightful, sometimes raw sendup of both pre-revolutionary Russia and the early Soviet Union. Bittersweet, very funny. I loved it.

[Harry Rutherford · Rating 3 out of 5]

The original title of this book was Kvachi Kvachantiradze; presumably the publisher of the English edition thought that was a bit intimidating. With names like Javakhishvili and Kvachantiradze, it is of course my book from Georgia for the Read The World challenge.

It’s actually my second attempt for Georgia; I tried reading Avelum by Otar Chiladze, but didn’t finish it. I wondered at the time if it was a problem with the translation, but this had the same translator, Donald Rayfield, and was much more readable.

It’s a big fat novel — 523 pages; my heart sank slightly at the sight of it — but the blurb was promising:

This is, in brief, the story of a swindler, a Georgian Felix Krull, or perhaps a cynical Don Quixote, named Kvachi Kvachantiradze: womanizer, cheat, perpetrator of insurance fraud, bank-robber, associate of Rasputin, filmmaker, revolutionary, and pimp. Though originally denounced as pornographic, Kvachi’s tale is one of the great classics of twentieth-century Georgian literature — and a hilarious romp to boot.

And on the whole it lives up to that blurb. Obviously it’s not actually ‘hilarious’ — it is after all literary fiction — but I’ve long since learned that literary reviewers have very low standards for humour, and I know to make allowances. I would describe it as lively and entertaining.

Kvachi is quite an appealing character just for his dynamism and inventiveness, but he is a complete shit: he makes his way in the world entirely by lying, cheating and stealing, and has no redeeming qualities. The narrative largely consists of one swindle after another and a sequence of seduced and betrayed women, which would be too repetitive to sustain a 500 page novel; what keeps it interesting is the regular changes of backdrop.

So he starts from a humble background in Georgia in the 1890s; works his way up, via university in Ukraine, to the highest circles of Russian society, and ingratiates himself with Rasputin; things get difficult, so he moves on to France; he returns to Russia in time for the Great War and the Russian Revolution; he initially works within the revolution but in due course flees back to the briefly independent Georgia; soon revolutionary politics catches up with him and eventually he flees again.

The author, sadly, did not manage to escape Soviet politics himself. He was not sufficiently willing to keep to the party line, and was tortured and shot during Stalin’s Great Purge. It’s tempting in fact to see Stalin as a model for Kvachi; a Georgian, Ioseb Jugashvili, of humble origins, with intelligence and charisma but a complete ruthlessness, who worked his way to the top of Russian society.

But perhaps that’s a bit facile; there are no shortage of literary and historical models for a character like Kvachi. The blurb mentioned Felix Krull; you could think of Jonathan Wild or even Becky Sharp. A more recent parallel is Rácz from Peter Pišťanek’s brilliant (and genuinely funny) Rivers of Babylon .

[Torsten · Rating 3 out of 5]

არის ბატონ კვაჭანტირაძეში რაცხა ნამეტნავათ ნაცნობი და მშობლიური. ჭავჭავაძის მერე ალბათ სწორედ ჯავახიშვილმა მოგვცა ქართველის ეგზომ ზოგადი, ამაღლებული და ჰეროიკული სახე კვაჭის სახით. იმას,რომ ორივე, ლუარსაბიცა და კვაჭიც, ჩვენი ხორცია ხორცთაგანი, ისიც ამტკიცებს, რომ ჩვენ არ გვძულს ისინი, ჩვენ ვიცინით მათზე, გამოვტყდეთ და ალბათ თანაგრძნობაც კი გვიჩნდება. ერთი სიტყვით, ეს ნამდვილად არაა ჯავახიშვილის magnum opus მაგრამ კარგია.

[Paul Dembina · Rating 3 out of 5]

Disappointing. Being a little known Georgian novel published by Dalkey Archive I guess I was expecting something a little more challenging. By the end I cared little what happened to Kvachi after his large number of scams and cons

[Mandy · Rating 3 out of 5]

This sprawling picaresque novel of the life of Georgian Kvachi Kvachantiradze is a romp through the early history of the 20th century in Georgia, Russia and further afield. Kvachi is a con-man and cheat, gambler and womaniser, friend of the great and not so great, including Rasputin and the Tsar, and he lies and deceives his way through all the major events of his times. Amusing to start with, I found his headlong progress began to pall after a while, especially as his adventure become more and more unbelievable. The author is regarded as one of Georgia’s best 20th century writers and this novel is apparently now considered a Georgian classic. I’m delighted to have discovered it but was nevertheless rather relieved when I’d finished it.

[ქეთევან · Rating 5 out of 5]

წიგნი ეპოქალურია, მიხელ ჯავახიშვილი - დიდი მწერალი.

[Azaghedi · Rating 5 out of 5]

ჩინებული წიგნი! სხვა მიხეილ ჯავახიშვილის რომანები რომ გადაითარგმნებოდეს, მაგათ წავიკითხავდი. ქართულ ენას ვსწავლობ, მაგრამ სამწუხაროდ მხოლოდ ინგლისურად და რუსულად ვლაპარაკობ. ეს რომანი ინგლისურად წავიკითხე.

A great book! It's a shame there's so little of Mikheil Javakhisvhili's work translated into English, because if this novel is any indication of his quality as a writer, then the (English-speaking portion of the) world is missing out. At times bawdy, sardonic and even downright subversive, it's no surprise the poor author came to meet such an unfortunate end (executed by the Soviets in 1937).

[Luka Fadiurashvili · Rating 5 out of 5]

მსოფლიოს დონის ერთ-ერთი ყველა დროის საუკეთესო ავანტურული რომანია.როგორც იქნა ინგლისურად ითარგმნა და იმედია გამოხმაურების გარეშე არ დარჩება.

[Saba Mosiashvili · Rating 5 out of 5]

საოცრად ქართული წიგნი, ქართველთა ხსნის, გადარჩენი და გაიმასქნების.

[Yorgos · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's hard to rate this book because I don't have confidence in the translation.

Kvachi Kvachantiradze is a fun series of basically loosly-connected historical episodes: as high as Kvachi rises, he always falls right back down to the bottom again, whereupon he moves locale and historical period and starts all over again. This novel is set in Georgia, Russia, and France from about 1890-1920, and the edition has decided to provide no material to help you navigate this extremely complicated setting. In the introduction, the translator advises you to simply use Google to look up the names of any people you might be unfamiliar with, and the edition gives no indication of which characters are historical persons (N.B. it's not like everyone here is well-known; have you head of Woldemar Freedericksz, Imperial Household Minister 1897-1917? How many Imperial Russian Bishops can you name?). A lot of the middle part of this book is in-jokes for people who were alive to live through pre-revolutionary politics in the Russian empire, but this editor does not want to help you with this aspect of the book at all.

As to the translation: I really don't like it. I don't have faith that this is an accurate rendering of the original. Reading through this you can really feel Donald Rayfield's hand here. Sometimes the text gives an indication that Javakhishvili wrote a moving and poetic and flowing novel, but it's just an indication--it's like the shadow of a fish on the surface of the water. Rayfield effectively translates those Georgian literary devices which work just as well in English (e.g. sometimes Javakhishvili will give us only one side of a conversation--fun, and works in english) but there's also a lot of jank here, where the Georgian device can't be transplanted root and branch. I just get the feeling a lot has been lost. Rayfield has decided to minimize his presence in the book--there are very few footnotes, for example, and the introduction is quite short--but by being so unobtrusive he comes off as obscure and unhelpful, and I ended up thinking about his role a lot. Why not just use a translator's note to tell us about what's going on in the Georgian, if you can't avoid the English being janky? Why not help the reader a little more?

Anyway it was a very easy and fun read. If I have any complaints with the book proper it's that the characters are pretty flat, and where the non-Kvachi characters are distinguishable it's by a single trait: Shikia is loyal, Chipi is cowardly, Gabo is bellicose, Jalil is Turkish, Ladi is... barely a character at all. But the point of this book is the story and the outrageous turns of fortune Kvachi endures. The literary merit is all in the narrator, whose ironic voice and poetic power shines through sometimes, but usually not. I get the feeling, unfortunately, that it's Rayfield who's not letting him through.

Strong three stars because that's how good the book I read was.

[Rex · Rating 4 out of 5]

Javakhishvili's picaresque tale of the early twentieth century takes the reader to Georgia and then lurches on through antebellum Paris and Tsarist Russia. Charismatic but degenerate Kvachi Kvachantiradze hobnobs with (and cons) Rasputin and a variety of other characters, some historical, all colorfully drawn, making a mockery of politicians, policemen, capitalists, and revolutionaries, building fortunes and losing them at the tip of a hat. Meanwhile, the reader sees Georgia through Kvachi's eyes. At first Kvachi regards his native country as a backwater and his people as boors, but by the end of the novel these opinions are complicated by deep feelings of loss. His reckless, restless pursuit destroys the lives of nearly everyone around him; and in the end, the narrator muses, Kvachi never had a clear idea of what he was pursuing. Javakhishvili's protagonist may be reprehensible to the core, but his narrative is breezy and compelling, and it benefits from Rayfield's dexterity as a translator.

[Joy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tam bir üç kağıtçı Kvaçi. Her şeyi bir şekilde 'şey ediyor'. Yükseldikçe düşüyor, düştükçe daha da yükseklere çıkıyor -Rasputin'in kankası oluyor, daha ne olsun.- çıktıkça daha da yerin dibine giriyor. tam bir roller-coster hayatı. tek sıkıntım; içinde çok fazla isim ve yer olması bazen takibimi zorlaştırdı. Hem Gürcü edebiyatının hem de pikaresk tarzın baş yapıtlarından biri bu kitap aynı zamanda.
ama öte taraftanda yoksulluk içinde doğduğu hayatı ancak bu şekilde değiştirebileceğini biliyor.
eğlenceli bir okuma.

[Lado Kilasonia · Rating 2 out of 5]

სხარტად ნაწერი და დინამიური წიგნია. თუმცა "ცუღლუტური რომანის" მიმდინარეობას ბევრად უფრო მაგარი წიგნები შექუმნია, რომელბშიც ნიჭიერი და მორალური მუხრუჭების უქონელი კაცის თავგადასვლის გარდა კიდევ არის რაღაცა დიდი, როგორიც ილფის და პეტორვის "ოქროს ხბო"-ს დასასრულშია, როდესაც გამდიდრებული ოსტაპ ბენდერი თავისდა გასაოცრად უცებ აღმოაჩენს, რომ ფულზე უფრო მნიშვნელოვანი რამეც არსებობს მან კი ეს დაკარგა. "კვაჭიში" კი ასეთ "რამეს" ვერ წავაწყდი. ძნელია, როდესაც ჯავახიშვილის შეფასება გიწევს, თუმცა სწორედ იმიტომ რომ საქმე ქართული მწერლობის ერთ-ერთ ყველაზე მაგარ წარმომადგენელს ეხება, ვუწერ ამ რომანს ორ ვარსკვლავს.

[Margaret · Rating 5 out of 5]

I learned about this book through the Georgian Association book club. I didn't receive my copy in time to join the book club discussion, but I enjoyed this so much even reading it on my own.The novel is a bit long but engaging, written as a series of vignettes organized into chapters. Kvachi is a fascinating anti-hero. His motto can be summed up with the lines on page 400, "An honest man is left stranded and dies hungry." The time frame covered in this book is from the early 1900s to the 1920s - an eventful period in history and a particularly wild chapter to be led through on the unscrupulous arm of Kvachi Kvachantiradze.

[Oleksandr · Rating 3 out of 5]

A book of criminal and scammer who makes larger and larger scams until revolution limits him.
The book is more related for people who knows the history of Russian empire and can compare it with official history.
In short, the corruption is overwhelming, the police can not be trusted, secret criminal and political organisations get money from rich people. The scammers are ok and forgiven by people, especially if they pay back. There is no way to get property back. Employees try to scam their organisations.
The translator says in the very beginning that the original uses several languages and dialects - this is definitely lacking.

[Mallory]

My husband and I are wanting to visit the Republic of Georgia next year and so I began my search for a book from the country. There are sadly not many Georgian-English translated works, but this stuck out as an interesting read.

It’s a big like Forrest Gump in pre and post imperial Georgia and Russia, if Forrest Gump was a con man.

Overall an interesting read, I really enjoyed the descriptions of the various cities Kvachi and his gang visited and their impressions on the politics of the day. I also found it amusing that Red Russia was the biggest gang of crooks of them all.

[Milay · Rating 5 out of 5]

Gürcü bir madrabazın küçük bir kasada doğup oradan Rus sarayına Rasputin ile beraber Çarlık düzenini sarsmasından, Ekim devriminde devrimi kah harlayıp kah söndürmesine ve sonunda Osmanlı İstanbul'unda bir düzen oturtmasının hikayesi. Çok etkileyiciydi.

[Karen · Rating 2 out of 5]

I wanted to like this more than I did. The story of a larger-than-life rogue and swindler who I presume the reader is supposed to grudgingly like. I however found him to be insufferable and quite horrible, whilst also being able to appreciate his skills in turning most situations to his advantage.

[Dimitrii Ivanov · Rating 4 out of 5]

Teetering on the brink between modernism and feuilleton, an uneven but very entertaining book. The "revolutionary" chapters (five and six) are the most dynamic, and propel the novel onto a higher plane.

[Mari · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well, this was a roller-coaster 😳

[Lasha Khojanashvili · Rating 5 out of 5]

დიდი სევდა რამე წიგნია.

[Roma Kukchishvili · Rating 4 out of 5]

"რასაც წაჰგლეჯ - შენია, რაც არა - დაკარგულია"

[Noam · Rating 5 out of 5]

(4.5/5)

[Rebecca Cartwright · Rating 4 out of 5]

What a rambunctious main character--he's despicable and lovable at the same time. A Georgian classic in translation--so worth the read!

[Luka Lortkipanidze · Rating 5 out of 5]

It's a great book, im looking forward to reading it

[James Salvatore · Rating 3 out of 5]

I’m taken by how relentlessly unredeemable a character Kvanchi is, how his imaginative schemes serve such an unimaginative greed, his gauche tastes, his sociopathic lack of empathy. Kvanchi is the epitome of the worst tendencies of his society and times. Which makes for some vicious, uproarious scenarios. But also for many tiresome, redundant ones. Generally the book is at its most enjoyable when it lets its protagonist run amok at the intersections of history.

[sadie · Rating 5 out of 5]

even though it’s quite long, it’s a fun, relatively easy read. i don’t have much complex to say about it other than that, simply that i very much enjoyed it and am looking forward to reading more georgian literature.