“This day proving wet, we should have passed our time very uncomfortably, had we not found in the house two chests of books, which we eagerly ransacked.”
Some time in the
mid-sixties I was home alone on a rainy day. It was a summer afternoon. Self-conscious
adolescent boredom was nagging me. I didn’t want to watch television. What
would have been on? Game shows? Soap operas? I looked at the bookcase in my
room, uncertain what to read or even if I wanted to read. For some reason I
chose Robinson Crusoe, which I had already read at least once. I laid on
my bed and read most of Defoe’s novel that afternoon. Even at the time I was
surprised that the story sustained me, that it so thoroughly held my attention
and enabled me to forget my boredom. It remains among the books I have most
often read.
Dr. Johnson famously said:
“Was there ever any thing written by mere men that was wished longer by its
readers, excepting Don Quixote, Robinson Crusoe, and the Pilgrim’s
Progress?” (The opposite of what he said of Paradise Lost: “None
ever wished it longer.”)
The enduring appeal of Defoe’s masterpiece, first published in 1719, is rooted in a common fantasy: If I were marooned on a desert island, how would I survive and what sort of world would I create? You can see how this would appeal to a bored adolescent. Robinson Crusoe remains essentially an excellent adventure story for boys and girls of any age. Like an earlier hero, Odysseus, Crusoe is cunning, courageous and resourceful – the image of ourselves we entertain in reveries. He is also frightened and despairing – precisely our true selves, at least on occasion. I most admire Crusoe’s competence and self-reliance. He gets things done. The best gloss on the story I know comes from an unlikely source – Shirley Robin Letwin’s The Gentleman in Trollope (1982):
“What defines a gentleman
is a way of being in any circumstances. Even alone on his island, Robinson
Crusoe is a gentleman. He reveals a gentleman’s attitude to his plight in his
unfailing respect for the humanity of himself and all men; his ability to appreciate
the treasures of civilization; his efforts to refashion them for new
circumstance; his readiness to build new skills on old; his learning to
recognize and repent for his sins; his determination to give his days an
orderly shape, to reconcile himself to his misfortune and endow his life with
what grace and contentment he can manage.”
The passage quoted at the
top is taken from the September 3, 1773 entry in James Boswell’s The Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides with Samuel Johnson (1785).
4 comments:
On re-reading: I've read "War and Peace" twice, both times in Constance Garnett's translation (1904). I'm thinking of reading it yet again, in Anthony Briggs' translation (2006).
Richard,
You don't know me so you would probably ignore this, which is fine, but I have read the translation by Anthony Briggs and would recommend, instead, the one translated by the Maudes and revised by Amy Mandelker.
3 reasons:
1/ It retains the French passages (with translations in the footnotes), so you can see what Tolstoy's doing with the French.
2/ Anthony Briggs removes the feminine endings in last names. Nastasha Rostova for instance becomes Natasha Rostov.
3/ He uses more modern language, whereas the Maudes were living at the same time as Tolstoy.
I recommend the version revised by Amy Mandelker (Oxford) because the Maudes originally Anglicised the names, which looked weird.
(I'm a Tolstoy fan).
Thanks for the excellent advice! I will look for that translation. Do you have any comment on Garnett? Her translation appears to have held up over time.
Richard,
Sorry for the late response.
As I don't know Russian, all my opinions about translations into English are based on research (and my own ears). Constance Garnett has a reputation for being fast and careless, but her prose is good and she apparently captures tone very well (especially when it comes to Chekhov), so if you like her prose, it's best to get a Constance Garnett translation that is revised by somebody else, so that the mistakes are corrected.
Post a Comment