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roxanamalinachirila's review against another edition
3.0
Walking down the dark streets of my city, I wondered why I've been reading Krzhizhanovsky at all. Obscure, occasionally metaphysical and hard to penetrate, Krzhizhanovsky isn't everyone's cup of tea, at least when it comes to his nonfiction. I'm not sure he's mine, either.
But, of course: curiosity. What does an author living in Moscow at the beginning of the 20th century sound like, when he doesn't have the "correct" politics and views and thus most of his work could not be published under communism?
Krzhizhanovsky was a witty, erudite writer; a speaker of several languages, he enjoyed a good pun. He could be philosophical and abstract, as well as down to earth and observant, and his style varied a lot between waxing poetic about science versus theater, to the journalistic snapshots of Moscow (during the war, and during times of peace). He was passionate about theater and not at all shy in praising the value of imagination. This makes him, if not always enjoyable to read, at least occasionally interesting.
Unfortunately, some parts - such as a discussion of life and literature viewed through the lens of chess - weren't exactly accessible. On the other hand, I found the descriptions of Moscow and an essay on the art of the title through the ages to be quite enjoyable. The notes for a never-realized project about never-realized project and for a similarly unwritten history of hyperbole, I felt, were curiosities more than anything else.
It isn't a volume I'd recommend in general, but it promises to be very useful to those interested in early 20th century Russian literature, or in Krzhizhanovsky in particular, while the short introductions for each chapter are quite helpful (even if a bit confusing in one case when Fenimoore Cooper is described as a forgotten writer - as he was assigned reading in one of my literature classes as an undergrad, I initially thought there was another writer of the same name; it turns out, no, it was THE Fenimore Cooper. Perhaps he's forgotten in Russia, I don't know).
Many thanks to NetGalley and Columbia University Press for offering a free ARC in exchange for an honest review.
But, of course: curiosity. What does an author living in Moscow at the beginning of the 20th century sound like, when he doesn't have the "correct" politics and views and thus most of his work could not be published under communism?
Krzhizhanovsky was a witty, erudite writer; a speaker of several languages, he enjoyed a good pun. He could be philosophical and abstract, as well as down to earth and observant, and his style varied a lot between waxing poetic about science versus theater, to the journalistic snapshots of Moscow (during the war, and during times of peace). He was passionate about theater and not at all shy in praising the value of imagination. This makes him, if not always enjoyable to read, at least occasionally interesting.
Unfortunately, some parts - such as a discussion of life and literature viewed through the lens of chess - weren't exactly accessible. On the other hand, I found the descriptions of Moscow and an essay on the art of the title through the ages to be quite enjoyable. The notes for a never-realized project about never-realized project and for a similarly unwritten history of hyperbole, I felt, were curiosities more than anything else.
It isn't a volume I'd recommend in general, but it promises to be very useful to those interested in early 20th century Russian literature, or in Krzhizhanovsky in particular, while the short introductions for each chapter are quite helpful (even if a bit confusing in one case when Fenimoore Cooper is described as a forgotten writer - as he was assigned reading in one of my literature classes as an undergrad, I initially thought there was another writer of the same name; it turns out, no, it was THE Fenimore Cooper. Perhaps he's forgotten in Russia, I don't know).
Many thanks to NetGalley and Columbia University Press for offering a free ARC in exchange for an honest review.
fallona's review
5.0
I received an electronic ARC via NetGalley.
I should lead this review by saying that Krzhizhanovsky's fiction ranks him among my favorite authors, and since "discovering" his stories as an undergrad (by which I just mean that I encountered one of his short stories in translation in an anthology in the university library, and liked it enough to seek out more) I've found the story of how so little of his writing was ever published in his lifetime fascinating. This volume, however, is my first exposure to his nonfiction.
As with any collection, I found certain works in it resonated with me more strongly than others. They're on the whole very thought-provoking selections, and the translations are good (and include useful notes that really are helpful). Unlike with many authors, I'm not sure that the translator being "invisible" would be a good thing here--information is included on why certain choices were made in translation, and it works beautifully for an author for whom the words themselves often carry such importance.
I am uncertain how much appeal this book has to someone who isn't at least somewhat familiar with Krzhizhanovsky's fiction or plays, though I think some of the selections in it would be interesting regardless--bits and pieces I shared with friends seemed to be appreciated, even where they were not familiar with Krzhizhanovsky and his writing. The fact this is something I can say at all speaks to my enjoyment of this book: I liked it (and like it) well enough, and it sparked enough thought in me, that I wanted to talk about it.
Krzhizhanovsky is a little unique in that I think he's best appreciated with some background not only in Russian literature (the language he primarily wrote in and the literary corpus to which he most frequently refers, though the man himself was an ethnic Pole born in Kyiv), but also in British (and to a lesser extent American) literature and, perhaps less likely in a reader of an English translation of his work, a certain amount of Polish literature.
So far I have been extremely pleased with every book I've read in the Russian Library series, and this is absolutely no exception.
I should lead this review by saying that Krzhizhanovsky's fiction ranks him among my favorite authors, and since "discovering" his stories as an undergrad (by which I just mean that I encountered one of his short stories in translation in an anthology in the university library, and liked it enough to seek out more) I've found the story of how so little of his writing was ever published in his lifetime fascinating. This volume, however, is my first exposure to his nonfiction.
As with any collection, I found certain works in it resonated with me more strongly than others. They're on the whole very thought-provoking selections, and the translations are good (and include useful notes that really are helpful). Unlike with many authors, I'm not sure that the translator being "invisible" would be a good thing here--information is included on why certain choices were made in translation, and it works beautifully for an author for whom the words themselves often carry such importance.
I am uncertain how much appeal this book has to someone who isn't at least somewhat familiar with Krzhizhanovsky's fiction or plays, though I think some of the selections in it would be interesting regardless--bits and pieces I shared with friends seemed to be appreciated, even where they were not familiar with Krzhizhanovsky and his writing. The fact this is something I can say at all speaks to my enjoyment of this book: I liked it (and like it) well enough, and it sparked enough thought in me, that I wanted to talk about it.
Krzhizhanovsky is a little unique in that I think he's best appreciated with some background not only in Russian literature (the language he primarily wrote in and the literary corpus to which he most frequently refers, though the man himself was an ethnic Pole born in Kyiv), but also in British (and to a lesser extent American) literature and, perhaps less likely in a reader of an English translation of his work, a certain amount of Polish literature.
So far I have been extremely pleased with every book I've read in the Russian Library series, and this is absolutely no exception.
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