"A brand-new, from-scratch translation by Judson Rosengrant of Tolstoy's remarkable trilogy, for Penguin Classics. I heard a chapter of this new translation--chapter 7 of Childhood, the Hunt-- when I was in Russia, in a cabin on the grounds of a monastery in Suzdal, read aloud by the translator. A translation is a very special gift to the world, the gift of tasteful self-effacement, the demand that a work must be truthful on all levels, as close as is humanly possible--to give the reader both the literal sense and the artistic voice. A beautiful, amazing time. Now, six years later, it has just been published, and the definitive translation of Childhood, Boyhood, Youth in this generation. Time to roll up my sleeves and dig in. Like all Tolstoy, it's broken into many short chapters, perfect for a night's reading. Who cares if it's summer in L.A. As I start this, I'm transported back to that January night in that Suzdal monastery, when Judson Rosengrant read us his newly translated chapter: "Wearing a shaggy cap and carrying a knife in his belt and an enormous horn over his shoulder, the master of hounds, nicknamed Turka, rode in front of everyone on a blue roan with a bent nose..."
I'm especially grateful that all of the French and German are translated in this version--nobody mastered languages like the educated Russians of Tolstoy's time. After just having read Gorki's essay on Tolstoy, I'm doubly interested to see what Tolstoy has to say about his own upbringing and the developing mind of childhood--I imagine I'll put this on the shelf next to Nabokov's Speak, Memory. Tolstoy was evidently quite a handful, brilliant and wild and brimming with energy. Can't wait.
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Janet (5 out of 5 stars)