The Brothers Karamazov Fyodor Dostoyevsky Fyodor Dostoevsky Constance Garnett Books
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Alexey Fyodorovitch Karamazov was the third son of Fyodor Pavlovitch Karamazov, a land owner well known in our district in his own day, and still remembered among us owing to his gloomy and tragic death, which happened thirteen years ago, and which I shall describe in its proper place. For the present I will only say that this “landowner”—for so we used to call him, although he hardly spent a day of his life on his own estate—was a strange type, yet one pretty frequently to be met with, a type abject and vicious and at the same time senseless. But he was one of those senseless persons who are very well capable of looking after their worldly affairs, and, apparently, after nothing else. Fyodor Pavlovitch, for instance, began with next to nothing; his estate was of the smallest; he ran to dine at other men's tables, and fastened on them as a toady, yet at his death it appeared that he had a hundred thousand roubles in hard cash. At the same time, he was all his life one of the most senseless, fantastical fellows in the whole district. I repeat, it was not stupidity—the majority of these fantastical fellows are shrewd and intelligent enough—but just senselessness, and a peculiar national form of it. He was married twice, and had three sons, the eldest, Dmitri, by his first wife, and two, Ivan and Alexey, by his second. Fyodor Pavlovitch's first wife, Adelaïda Ivanovna, belonged to a fairly rich and distinguished noble family, also landowners in our district, the Miüsovs. How it came to pass that an heiress, who was also a beauty, and moreover one of those vigorous, intelligent girls, so common in this generation, but sometimes also to be found in the last, could have married such a worthless, puny weakling, as we all called him, I won't attempt to explain. I knew a young lady of the last “romantic” generation who after some years of an enigmatic passion for a gentleman, whom she might quite easily have married at any moment, invented insuperable obstacles to their union, and ended by throwing herself one stormy night into a rather deep and rapid river from a high bank, almost a precipice, and so perished, entirely to satisfy her own caprice, and to be like Shakespeare's Ophelia. Indeed, if this precipice, a chosen and favorite spot of hers, had been less picturesque, if there had been a prosaic flat bank in its place, most likely the suicide would never have taken place. This is a fact, and probably there have been not a few similar instances in the last two or three generations. Adelaïda Ivanovna Miüsov's action was similarly, no doubt, an echo of other people's ideas, and was due to the irritation caused by lack of mental freedom. She wanted, perhaps, to show her feminine independence, to override class distinctions and the despotism of her family. And a pliable imagination persuaded her, we must suppose, for a brief moment, that Fyodor Pavlovitch, in spite of his parasitic position, was one of the bold and ironical spirits of that progressive epoch, though he was, in fact, an ill-natured buffoon and nothing more. What gave the marriage piquancy was that it was preceded by an elopement, and this greatly captivated Adelaïda Ivanovna's fancy. Fyodor Pavlovitch's position at the time made him specially eager for any such enterprise, for he was passionately anxious to make a career in one way or another. To attach himself to a good family and obtain a dowry was an alluring prospect. As for mutual love it did not exist apparently, either in the bride or in him, in spite of Adelaïda Ivanovna's beauty. This was, perhaps, a unique case of the kind in the life of Fyodor Pavlovitch, who was always of a voluptuous temper, and ready to run after any petticoat on the slightest encouragement. She seems to have been the only woman who made no particular appeal to his senses. Immediately after the elopement Adelaïda Ivanovna discerned in a flash that she had no feeling for her husband but contempt.
The Brothers Karamazov Fyodor Dostoyevsky Fyodor Dostoevsky Constance Garnett Books
I do not know what my review can add to the Brothers Karamazov, but I will put in a few of my words. I have now read this book six times through and every time I am simply amazed at the complexity of vision that Dostoevsky brought to the page. My copy of the book is littered with page numbers written in the margins that connect the dots between all of the recurring scenes, ideas, images, phrases, and philosophies. It has taken years of sustained thought to be able to draw all of these connections, which makes it somewhat unbelievable that Dostoevsky was able to write it in the time frame that he did. Because of this, though, I have found this translation to be the only reasonable choice for the serious student. Many earlier translations ironed out potentially awkward phrasings, and thereby destroyed the parallelism that was being masterfully established.I have shed so many tears on the pages of my copy of this book that I am surprised it is still holding up as well as it is. There is a sensitivity and beauty to this text that I have never been able to find anywhere else, even in other works by Dostoevsky. It is, quite simply, the most masterful examination of agape (active love), faith, and justice, and redemption that I have ever encountered in my life, in philosophy, history, literature, film, or otherwise. There are no words to offer that can capture how profoundly this book has changed me for the better.
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The Brothers Karamazov Fyodor Dostoyevsky Fyodor Dostoevsky Constance Garnett Books Reviews
Before you dedicate many hours to reading this masterpiece, you must be sure you select the appropriate translation for your reading style. The Pevear translation - although highly acclaimed - may make it difficult for most readers to grasp the essence of this beautiful story, and therefore I would almost always recommend the McDuff version ahead of the Pevear.
The Brothers Karamazov presents the same challenge for every English translator; namely, Dostoevsky took pride in creating distinct voices and syntax for each of his characters, and most translations have sacrificed the syntax and voicing to make it more readable - in the process losing much of the tone of each character. Pevear's translation is known for being the truest to the original, as it replicates the syntax with an almost academic precision. However, in being so true to the syntax and voicing, Pevear leaves sentence structures that are so unfamiliar-sounding to the native English speaker as to be disruptive. Many times as I read this translation I found myself jolted out of the flow of reading because the phrasing felt so awkward. As an example of a difficult sentence
Pevear "These occasions were almost morbid most depraved, and, in his sensuality, often as cruel as a wicked insect, Fyodor Pavlovich at times suddenly felt in himself, in his drunken moments, a spiritual fear, a moral shock, that almost, so to speak, resounded physically in his soul." Compare that to
McDuff "These were instances that almost seemed to involve some morbid condition most depraved, and in his voluptuous lust often brutal, like an evil insect, Fyodor Pavlovich would on occasion suddenly experience within himself, in his drunken moments, a sense of spiritual terror and moral concussion that echoed almost physically, as it were, within his soul".
This is a good example of the tradeoffs each translator makes. Generally Pevear's is tight, precise, uses simple language and is truest to the original and punchy sentence structure. It requires a high tolerance for odd syntax. McDuff's uses a broader vocabulary (e.g. "moral concussion"), but his flow/ear is much more natural to most English speakers. The sacrifice is that McDuff uses probably 5%-10% more words, but I personally believe these additions make it far more readable. It is still generally true to the sentence structure, but by taking a quarter step away from the purist version, he sheds much more light on the underlying text than Pevear.
Based on research, other reviewers and my own experience if you are familiar with Russian, Pevear is for you. If you value precision, read for words instead of flow, or are better able to tolerate difficult phrasing than difficult vocabulary, then Pevear is for you. If you are more comfortable with a wider repertoire of words, and typically read with a background sense of the "flow" of each sentence, I believe McDuff will be far more readable while maintaining all the essence of the original work.
Most people know that The Brothers Karamazov is an amazing novel, so I will only be criticizing the translation; however, I haven't read any other translations to verify my knowledge on the subject, and I would suggest going getting samples of different translations in order to best suit your needs.
The Richard Peaver & Larissa Volokhonsky translation of The Brothers Karamazov is good. It's being marketed as the best, but it really isn't. There is not a 'best' translation of Dostoyevsky, or really, any other Russian author I've researched; no, there isn't a 'best' translation of a book that I know of. To my understanding the Peaver translations usually stick incredibly close to the original source material, which is a double edged sword; most people want a translation that doesn't loose something or other in translation. This one is very close to doing so, but as I said it's a double edged sword; they leave in the syntax, and a very foreign syntax at that. This can cause problems for a casual reader, but it wasn't a problem for me. What really matters is the readers personal preference. I will add the first sentence of the P&V, McDuff, and Garnett translations to see which one you'd most like
"Alexei Fyodorovich Karamazov was the third son of a land owner from our district, Fyodor Pavlovich Karamazov, well known is his own day (and still remembered among us) because of his dark and tragic death, which happened exactly thirteen years ago and which I shall speak of in its proper place." - P&V
"Aleksey Fyodorovich Karamazov was the third son of a landowner in our district, Fyodor Pavlovich Karamazov, so noted in his time (and even now still recollected among us) for his tragic and fishy death, which occurred just thirteen years ago and which I shall report in its proper context." - McDuff
"Alexey Fyodorovich Karamazov was the third son of Fyodor Pavlovich Karamazov, a landowner well known in our district in his own day, and still remembered among us owing to his gloomy and tragic death, which happened thirteen years ago, and which I shall describe in its proper place." - Garnett
Moving on to the edition I have. It's ISBN is 978-0374528379, but it is the best selling edition as of 8/1/2017; you probably won't have any trouble finding it. This paperback is a great durable edition. I kept it in my backpack for school each day for basically the entire second semester without too much serious wear (check the photos to judge yourself). The font is big enough to read well without straining your eyes... or at least it was for me. It's still holding together nicely is what I'm trying to say. The binding is glued, too; if you didn't know. This edition has a cover in which I will describe as rough-soft feeling; I enjoyed holding it in my hands.
Finally, sorry for the poor camera quality. The soda can piece is there to show how big the text is in comparison. The torn piece on the back is from a mishap I am accountable for not the book, although it says something about the books durability; it happened near the end of my usage with it.
I do not know what my review can add to the Brothers Karamazov, but I will put in a few of my words. I have now read this book six times through and every time I am simply amazed at the complexity of vision that Dostoevsky brought to the page. My copy of the book is littered with page numbers written in the margins that connect the dots between all of the recurring scenes, ideas, images, phrases, and philosophies. It has taken years of sustained thought to be able to draw all of these connections, which makes it somewhat unbelievable that Dostoevsky was able to write it in the time frame that he did. Because of this, though, I have found this translation to be the only reasonable choice for the serious student. Many earlier translations ironed out potentially awkward phrasings, and thereby destroyed the parallelism that was being masterfully established.
I have shed so many tears on the pages of my copy of this book that I am surprised it is still holding up as well as it is. There is a sensitivity and beauty to this text that I have never been able to find anywhere else, even in other works by Dostoevsky. It is, quite simply, the most masterful examination of agape (active love), faith, and justice, and redemption that I have ever encountered in my life, in philosophy, history, literature, film, or otherwise. There are no words to offer that can capture how profoundly this book has changed me for the better.
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