Gratis Ebook herunterladen The Stray Dog Cabaret: A Book of Russian Poems (New York Review Books Classics)

Gratis Ebook herunterladen The Stray Dog Cabaret: A Book of Russian Poems (New York Review Books Classics)

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The Stray Dog Cabaret: A Book of Russian Poems (New York Review Books Classics)

Gratis Ebook herunterladen The Stray Dog Cabaret: A Book of Russian Poems (New York Review Books Classics)

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Pressestimmen

"On New Year's Day, 1912, a cabaret with the cock-a-snook name Stray Dog opened in St. Petersburg, Russia, and became the place where the avant-garde met, debated, performed, and otherwise presented itself to itself. Habitues included the greatest concentration of major poets in Russian history, all born between 1800 and 1895...This book conjures their group's initial passion, humor, and revolutionary zeal." --BooklistPraise for Schmidt: "He never translated from a language that he didn't know the way a poet knows language…He understood what it meant for words to live inside an actor's body, what it meant for language to be embodied in space by a living breathing performer."–The Boston Phoenix“Schmidt's translations of Chekhov have been successfully staged all over the U.S. by such theatrical directors as Lee Strasberg, Elizabeth Swados, Peter Sellars and Robert Wilson. Critics have hailed these translations as making Chekhov fully accessible to American audiences. They are also accurate -- Schmidt has been described as "the gold standard in Russian-English translation" by Michael Holquist of the Russian department at Yale University.”–From The Plays of Anton Chekhov

Über den Autor und weitere Mitwirkende

Paul Schmidt wrote many award winning translations. He held a Ph.D in Slavic Literature from Harvard and was a professor of Russian literature at the University of Texas and Wellesley College. His critical essays appeared in The Nation, The New York Review of Books, and Delos. He was a recipient of a fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts. Catherine Ciepiela is Professor of Russian at Amherst, and author of The Same Solitude, a book about Marinas Tsvetaeva's long-distance romance with Boris Pasterna.Honor Moore's collections of poems are RedShoes, Darling, and Memoir. She edited Amy Lowell: Selected Poems for the Library of America and is author of The White Blackbird, a life of her grandmother, the painter Margarett Sargent.

Produktinformation

Taschenbuch: 168 Seiten

Verlag: NYRB Classics; Auflage: Main (5. Dezember 2006)

Sprache: Englisch

ISBN-10: 1590171918

ISBN-13: 978-1590171912

Größe und/oder Gewicht:

12,7 x 1 x 20,3 cm

Durchschnittliche Kundenbewertung:

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Amazon Bestseller-Rang:

Nr. 5.396.203 in Bücher (Siehe Top 100 in Bücher)

I am genuinely impressed by the accomplished life Paul Schmidt lived, and touched that he translated these poems just prior to his early death. It makes it hard to say that this work is utterly unacceptable, but it is. Schmidt BUTCHERS these great works, some of them virtually beyond recognition. With exceptions, these are not translations; these are rhapsodies or fantasies on the original. Unimpressive ones at that. Losing the rhyme in virtually every poem in this work, Schmidt adds bizarre details, misrepresents the author's meaning constantly, cuts and pastes at will, and generally shows unconscionable disrespect for the geniuses who wrote this work. Examples:First translation: Okay. No rhyme, but okay.Second translation: "the eyes of a careful cat" turn into eyes like that of "a cat in a crouch for the kill" What? Why?Third translation: Fine, good even.Fourth translation: the last two lines of the very first stanza are completely invented, the second of them doesn't even have any meaningful basis in the poem. the second stanza is one of two just entirely missing. This is infuriating. How dare Paul Schmidt decide he knows better than Aleksandr Blok? And have the audacity to call it a translation, not even deigning to mention the fact that he's edited a brilliant poet.Fifth translation: his Khlebnikov translations, most of which are experimental poems written out of nonsense words, I cannot criticizeSixth translation: KhlebnikovSeventh translation: KhlebnikovEighth translation: Second-to-last line is completely invented - based on his reading of a metaphor within the poem.Ninth translation: half the poem is invented, vaguely related to subject matter within the poem - one stanza missing. Again, I would find it wrong even if you were doing it for the sake of rhyme, but these translations don't even rhyme! Why just make stuff up?Tenth translation: TITLE INVENTED to pretend it was written to Akhmatova. 3/5 STANZAS CASUALLY MISSING. Are you kidding me?and on and on and on... if you read this work, a small sliver of the genius of these poems will reach you. this should NEVER have been put in print. everyone who had a hand in it ought to be ashamed.

This book gives a verse portrait of the circle of Russian poets that formed around the Stray Dog Cabaret in pre-revolutionary St. Petersburg. The translation is tuned for the spoken word and to American ears. The translator also performed them live, and I can hear that vitality in the translations. Some translations are excellent. In particular, Blok's "Twelve" gives more of a sense of the informality and immediacy of the Russian than others I've seen. Some of the Mandelstam poems I preferred earlier translations, as they are more restrained and so suit his work better.Some of the choices are questionable. In particular, changing the dedication of one of Blok's poems from Marina Nelidova to Anna Akhmatova is problematic. The addition of "And it makes/ me / cry" to a Mayakovsky poem is not one of the better moments in the collection. However, the collection does very much provide a vivid collective portrait of Russia's greatest poets moving from bohemia to Stalinist horrors. If it introduces new audiences to Russian poetry, all the better.

The poets here are the more prominent Futurists (Vladimir Mayakovsky, Velimir Khlebnikov, Boris Pasternak) and Acmeists (Osip Mandelstam, Anna Akhmatova, Marina Tsvetaeva) as well as the "hooligan" poet Sergei Esenin and the great late-Symbolist Alexander Blok. Though Pasternak is well known (if mostly for "Zhivago") and though a good many readers who are familiar with the crimes of Lenin and Stalin might know something *about* Akhmatova, Tsvetaeva, and Mandelstam, my strong suspicion is that most of these people aren't very widely read in the English-speaking world.This is a shame. These poets were part of the last wave of a Russian renaissance that stretched well back into the Nineteenth Century. In the generations before the Symbolists and Acmeists, we find another splendid set of writers--Fet, Tyutchev, Gippius, Annensky--as well as some very fine painters and composers. Partly because of the difficulties of rendering Russian verse into English, and partly because communists and fellow travelers would later present pre-Bolshevik Russia as a uniformly vulgar and repressive hell-hole, this cultural flowering has largely been forgotten. Paul Schmidt (who died in 1999) and the editors of this collection should be commended for doing what they can to refresh our memories.Can one find nits to pick? Well, sure.Schmidt's strength as a translator is capturing the flavor of this group of poets, and there are times when this leads him to sacrifice a lot more of the sense than I would like. Schmidt introduces, with little success, American street slang into Blok's "Twelve." In Khlebnikov's "When the winking wax-wings whistle," Schmidt's inclusion of "mockingbird" is ludicrous on both linguistic and ornithological grounds. In Mayakovsky's "Me," Schmidt actually *invents* the insipid refrain, "And it makes / me / cry," a decision that made / me / cringe.Speaking of "Twelve," I suppose it had to be included here because of its fame, but I have never been able to understand the reason for the poem's high standing, especially when so much of Blok is so much more pellucid and powerful. I have similar feelings about Tsvetaeva's "Poem of the End," and it is unfortunate that these longish poems take up so much space in "The Stray Dog Cabaret."But enough nitpicking. There is an awful lot to admire in such a slender volume. The collection starts well, with a stark imagistic piece by Blok. There are several strong Mandelstam poems in here: "This life of constant thrills will drive us crazy," "Somebody gave me this body," "Insomnia," "Leningrad," "The Poem about Stalin," and "All I want to do is escape the madness here." The Akhmatova selection is good, is mostly free of histrionics, and includes fine renderings of "There were three things in life he loved" and "I drink to the wreck of our life together." Esenin evokes the Russian countryside in a pleasingly mournful way in both "I am leaving my home in the country" and "The Backstreets of Moscow." Though I'm no Mayakovsky fan, his "Suicide Poem" is quite moving in Schmidt's translation. Pasternak's "Thunderstorm for a Moment Forever" is a little lightning-strike of a masterpiece, an example of metaphor helping us re-see the world.Though I've already mentioned my reservations about "The Poem of the End," some of my favorite poems in here are by Tsvetaeva: "I am an empty page beneath your pen," "It may be that a better way," "Homesickness." But the one I can't get out of my head is "I'd like to live with you / in some small town," with its succession of sharp images from everyday private life.Less than a year after Tsvetaeva wrote her poem (December, 1916), everyday private life was likely to be seen as counterrevolutionary, and it is impossible to keep the tragedy of the October Revolution out of one's head when reading these poems today. The poems and the history get strangely jumbled together, with beauty and value getting all mixed up with loss and grief and insanity. And one of the most heartbreaking things is that it did *not* require nine decades of reflection to know what was going on. Akhmatova writes, "This is the moment they told us would come some day / when there's nobody alive to hear what we say. / The world is no longer the place it used to be. / Be still, don't break my heart. Be silent, poetry." Here is Tsvetaeva: "I'm still alive. That may be soon / a sin." Here is Mandelstam: "All I want to do is / escape the madness here. / To rise into the light / where I can disappear."And here is Akhmatova again: "In the west the familiar light still shines / And the spires of cities glow in the sun. / But here a dark figure is marking the houses / And calling the ravens, and the ravens come."

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