Short & Sweet Treats discussion

Hey Teresa. Sorry I've been away for a while. I've finished the book, so the 20th is fine with me. All the best until then :)

I have finished the book too. In Russian. Now I am sort of thinking about it and re-reading some parts in English, being linguistically curious about the lines that are hard to translate.
It's just that I am awfully busy at work this month and so can't guarantee I jump in the discussion on 20th, or this weekend for that matter. But I read all comments and I will respond if I immediately know how to respond:)
Best wishes to all.

This book really got to me too. I was impressed how someone would choose to torture himself with his thoughts. It seemed like he chose that because then at least he knew he was alive and feeling at least something. And then to feel powerful by bringing other people down with him. It mainly just pushed people away... who would want to be around someone that tortured? I imagine there are people like this who become a slave to their tortured thoughts and cannot break the cycle . Is this how the mass murderers feel?

Apropos of the wet snow.
No, I am not going to comment on Part II at the moment. Not yet.
It’s just uh…
I woke up this morning and got myself snow outside.
Very white and very wet.
The whole summer I was tripping over my winter boots lying on the floor in the hall. By the fall, I finally threw them away. This morning, I was skipping over the snow in my tennis shoes getting to work.
I understand, it’s a more Gogolesque rather than Dostoevskyesque situation. I still feel somehow more related to our underground man today than any other day. It must be the snow.
So now I’m sitting in the office with wet feet wishing everyone great weekend. Make a snowman or something. A snowball fight is the best.
Happy pre-Xmas weekend!

Yes, this book leaves a 'weight' upon you, as it were. Short, but WOW! does it ever pack a punch!
~Teresa~

Bigollo wrote: "Not farther than on the second page of this book the major character says, “I never even managed to become anything: neither wicked nor good, neither a scoundrel nor an honest man, neither a hero n..."

I'm glad someone else picked up on this as well! This sentence immediately reminded me of The Metamorphosis and the next few pages makes me convinced there must be a connection in there somewhere. I really think Kafka had to have been a fan of this novella.

And the portion of Part 1 talking about free will (Section 7-8, I believe?) reminded me a lot of Yevgeny Zamyatin's We, which is one of the earliest dystopian novels. Nearly everything that Dostoyevsky spells out as what the scientific man will have calculated in the future (schedules for everything, etc) are things Zamyatin attributed to the society in We. Again, the ideas in the two books seem way too similar for it to be entirely a coincidence.

This is one thing I love about reading all these classic books. The more you read, the more you can see how various authors all feed off each other. It's really cool to be able to read a passage in one book and recognize an idea or book from another author.

no hurries Alicia. We also have a separate thread for past reads where you can still join in!

Nancy wrote, “…It seemed like he chose that because then at least he knew he was alive and feeling at least something. And then to feel powerful by bringing other people down with him… I imagine there are people like this who become a slave to their tortured thoughts and cannot break the cycle . Is this how the mass murderers feel?”


First, I wanted to comment briefly on the question how far if at all can we trust the narrator. I think if we choose to trust the Underground Man, we should trust him more than anywhere else - in his second conversation with Lisa (more like a monologue) at his place.

“…Because a man speaks out like this only once in his life, and then only in hysterics!”

When we say trust we don’t mean to expect objective Truth from him, but that he’s speaking sincerely about what he feels.

I personally think that he’s doing all possible to be sincere throughout the whole book. And that he contradicts himself time and again is just because that’s how human psyche works.

It’s hard to tell and talk about how mass murderers feel. (Maybe there is a book about that?). I think with them it’s a much bigger scale pathology. It seems to me there’s something lacking in their minds, something that failed to develop by whatever reason. The U Man, I think, is as ‘normal’ qualitatively as we all are, it’s just that his sensitivity and emotional reaction to life are hypertrophied, that is quantitatively off the norm . Maybe it’s Dostoyevsky’s way to make his point more prominent? And hence, I think U Man is not in need of ‘feeling at least something’. He feels to extreme.

“…I’m the most vile, the most ridiculous, the most petty, the most stupid, the most envious of all worms on earth, who are in no way better than I, but who, devil knows why, are never embarrassed; while I will just go on being flicked all my life by every nit – that’s my trait!”

Oh yes, he can feel.

U Man is the only character in the book without a name. I look at it as a symbol that the reader can see themselves through his mind and feel with and for him, and relate to him. Maybe that’s why the book is so popular for so long? In a mass murderer’s mind it would be I guess very dark and alien.

And U Man is not that alien to us. Like I said, it’s just his reactivity to the world is turned up too high.

Yes, his perpetual desire to hurt others is perplexing and annoying.

“…without power and tyranny over someone, I really cannot live…”

Yes, he talks about love toward someone as the possession over that someone. Maybe I risk to become hated in this group, but isn’t there always a component in the love between two persons that is hard to get rid of and that is a mere struggle for power, taking up this or that form? And again, with U Man everything is hypertrophied.

And he greatly suffers from it. Why is he doing all this? Well, his own ‘answer’ to this is “…reasoning explains nothing, and consequently there’s no point in reasoning.” In other words, he admits his behavior is irrational. And that sounds exactly as an answer to those from Part I who believed that human being is a rational creature and hence if we take into account all his interests and needs, we can calculate the conditions that will make him happy.

Ironically, despite U Man was hinting at and playing with the notion of free will in Part I, his life seems ruled by hand of fate. His underground seems the only place he could possibly end up at. Again, he actually did not try to logically prove existence of free will, he merely insisted that human wanting and behavior depends on devil knows what, and hence uncalculable.

However, since I got into U Man’s skin a bit too much, I sure have told a pack of lies too. Sorry! But we are just talking here, right?

Melanti wrote: "...the ideas in the two books seem way too similar for it to be entirely a coincidence..."

No, it’s not a coincidence. I read We long ago. Are there buildings made of glass so that people can see what others are doing? That’s the ‘crystal palace’ from N.G. Chernyshevsky’s novel ‘What Is to Be Done?’ Apparently, Zamyatin too, following Dostoyevsky, is mocking Chernyshevsky’s idea of building happiness for all people.

Bigollo wrote: "I read We long ago. Are there buildings made of glass so that people can see what others are doing? ..."

Yep, that's the one. All the apartment buildings are made of glass so the people can be monitored easily and to make sure everyone is following their assigned schedules and routines properly.

I've never heard of Chernyshevsky before. According to Wikipedia, What Is to Be done? is itself a response to Turgnev's Fathers and Sons. Interesting. I'll put both of them on my VERY long list of authors to try out sometime in this lifetime.

hi Alicia! no I didn't think that! actually at times, I pictured stewie from family Guy...

Melanti wrote: "I've never heard of Chernyshevsky before. According to Wikipedia, What Is to Be done? is itself a response to Turgnev's Fathers and Sons. Interesting. I'll put both of them on my VERY long list of authors to try out sometime in this lifetime."

I agree, it’s interesting. It seems that all classical literature is interconnected into one wide net, one long dialogue, which is impossible to consume during one lifetime. We need more:).

Turgenev is a fine author (tmho), despite that Dostoyevsky made a caricature of him in The Demons (maybe F.D. was experiencing the Underground Man syndrome at the moment?).

I read What Is To Be Done literally in the other lifetime – in the Soviet Union. The book was on the High School curriculum. I remember only there was a fellow who slept on nails, preparing himself for saving the humanity that way, or something like that.

I want to give Teresa a very big thank you for leading this very good discussion. and another big thank you to our members who so actively have participated in the discussion.

I think this was one of our liveliest book discussions so far!

In general if anyone wants to lead in a discussion, let me know!

I just finished the book today and read through all of the discussion comments. Great conversation! Teresa, you did an awesome job leading and I hope you lead another discussion at some point when I have time to actually discuss!

Bigollo, you said something that helped bring the book into focus for me and synthesize Part I and Part II (thanks for that!):

"Why is he doing all this? Well, his own 'answer' to this is "...reasoning explains nothing, and consequently there’s no point in reasoning." In other words, he admits his behavior is irrational. And that sounds exactly as an answer to those from Part I who believed that human being is a rational creature and hence if we take into account all his interests and needs, we can calculate the conditions that will make him happy."

...And a word about translations.

I read the Constance Garnett version (the free Kindle one) and hope to re-read it in the Pevear/Volokhonsky translation in January.

Before starting a foreign book, I always read up on the different translations. But I wonder if it really matters which one I read? For some people, it may. But I suspect I don't read closely or carefully enough to get more than the broad brushstrokes anyway. This short book is a good opportunity for me to try two different translations.

Bigollo, which English translation do you have and do you think it did a good job?

A side note: my dad loves Russian literature and I grew up with a copy of "What Is To Be Done?" in my house but never knew anything about it!

Cara wrote: "Bigollo, which English translation do you have and do you think it did a good job?
"

Cara,

To answer your question shortly, I read the book in Russian, having a copy of Pevear/Volokhonsky translation handy to look into when going through particularly difficult passages in Russian. Especially when I had no clue how I myself would translate something tricky even in a clumsy way. Virtually all the time I was pleasantly surprised. So yes, to my opinion, this couple did a very good job.

But there is some history how I found this translating machine couple.

Only a few years ago I was unaware of Pevear/Volokhonsky, and Goodreads btw. Internet is not my first necessity of life (because it was born much later than I was, I guess:)… ). One day I was talking to an American friend at work about one Russian term that is presumably impossible to translate into English; and involuntarily, I mentioned the name of Nikolai Gogol but immediately stopped short: Oh, never mind, you can’t possibly know this author, he’s great, but untranslatable – exclusively national. Basically, my dogma of that time was that Gogol’s major character was the language itself, and hence, if you translate it, you replace the major character. But since we were at the office, I jumped to computer, got on line, just in case, to check for possible translations. Actually, by that moment I had already read Vladimir Nabokov’s lecture on Gogol for English speaking audience, and his opinion on one old translation of Dead Souls was devastating. Indeed, according to Nabokov’s examples in the lecture the translator at times did not have a clue what Gogol was talking about.

Anyways, I was shocked how many translations of Dead Souls are out there. And recent ones to boot. I immediately checked out from the library two different ones: by Robert Maguire and by Pevear/Volokhonsky. Eventually, I bought both copies. That curious I was.

To be fair to particular translators of a work, one has to read each translation in full. Of course, I didn’t do that, but I spot checked. Especially most insidious passages. On average, Pevear/Volokhonsky won.

I believe, when we talk about literary translations, there is always this untranslatable part, ‘thing in itself’ so to speak. With Gogol, this ‘thing in itself’ makes especially prominent lump. With any translator.

Later on I recommended Pevear/Volokhonsky version of Dead Souls to my friend. He still often quotes it and lol's when we speak.

Later on I made another experiment. While reading War & Peace in Russian, I had three(!) different translations handy to spot check. And again, Pevear/Volokhonsky won in my eyes. On the average. Some lines were done better by others.

So now I don’t do that any more. If I read some Russian classic, and want an English version for reference to friends, I just go with Pevear/Volokhonsky if it’s available.

Bigollo, thanks for the response! That's really good information. Makes me want to read Dead Souls again and see if I understand what's going on better!

Cara wrote: "Bigollo, thanks for the response! That's really good information. Makes me want to read Dead Souls again and see if I understand what's going on better!"

You’re welcome, Cara!

It’s not quite the right place for discussing Dead Souls, but since we mentioned it… Let me drop a couple more lines about it here.

I still do believe that the book is specifically national. My American friend loves it because he, as he says himself, has a twisted sense of humor. But V. Nabokov, for instance, regards the book as universal, understandable by virtually any culture. Who knows? There are as many opinions as readers. Everyone should try for themselves, I guess.

If to compare Gogol’s text with drawing a line on a sheet of paper, when you draw it, it looks like an old curve, but when you look at each infinitesimal point closely, it’s not a point anymore, it’s a very elaborate pattern. Where any other writer would use an adjective, or a simple metaphor, Gogol gives us a mini story. And those mini stories are all along his text, sometimes more alive than the plot; and they affect the mood of the reader; it’s like traveling in a very strange, almost mystical world. Maybe that’s why I used to call the language of the book its major character.

Another characteristic of the book is that it is humor and horror at the same time. When I read it, I always laugh out loud and want to grab someone to read it aloud to. But after reading, some lead heavy, almost unexplainable sadness overcomes me. Yes, yes, I know these people… I see them everyday… And I have to live and deal with them. (I’m talking about my old days in the Soviet Union now). But they are dead! They are real dead souls, not those fictitious peasants on paper. The latter actually were pretty interesting personalities before they physically died. Staggering, menacing dualism!

And lastly, when I talk about Dead Souls, I mean only Part I of the book. The Part II is much weaker to my taste. And after all, Gogol himself burned Part II…

Oops… I didn’t mean to be lengthy again. I can’t be concise, can I?.. And in a totally wrong thread! I should’ve expressed this opinion at a place where people are just about to read Dead Souls. Oh well, maybe I should remember what I’ve just said for another time. When we love something we can’t help trying to have others love it too, right?..:)