I was just reading Carol Palmer’s translation (pdf, Google cache) of Vladimir Lakshin’s courageous 1968 Novy Mir article “Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita” (which not only treated the novel, banned until only a year earlier, as a masterpiece, but mocked the “professors of literature” who resisted its reinstatement), and I hit the following description of the book’s wild variety of characters:
People in contemporary jackets and ancient tunics, in caps and in golden helmets with plumes, people with briefcases under their arms and with lances atilt, people of various epochs and ages, professions and circumstances: a writer, a bookkeeper, a house manager, the Procurator of Judea, a high priest, a centurion, the Variety Theater’s barman, a master of ceremonies, a railway conductor, a literary critic, Roman soldiers, robbers, martyrs, civil servants, actors, administrators, doctors, waiters, housewives, detectives, cab drivers, ticket takers, policemen, vendors of carbonated water, members of the management of a housing cooperative, editors, nurses, firemen—it is hardly possible to name them all. And yet the main characters have not been mentioned here, nor those whom one hesitates to call dramatis personae—the Devil and his retinue, witches, corpses, water nymphs, demons of all aspects and of every stripe, and finally an enormous talking car with a cavalry mustache.
‘Imagine I’m sitting here,’ Anna Richardovna recounted, shaking with agitation, again clutching at the bookkeeper’s sleeve, ‘and a cat walks in. Black, big as a Behemoth. Of course, I shout “Scat!” to it. Out it goes, and in comes a fat fellow instead, also with a sort of cat-like mug, and says: “What are you doing, citizeness, shouting ‘scat’ at visitors?”‘
‘The situation is serious but by no means hopeless,’ Behemoth responded. ‘What’s more, I’m quite certain of final victory. Once I’ve analysed the situation properly.’
He set about this analysing in a rather strange manner — namely, by winking and making all sorts of faces at his king.
It just points up Bulgakov’s lack of imagination — surely a Soviet car (a ZAZ or VAZ) would be much more sinister than a mere cat.
Or that SCTV parody of 3CP1 with “Tibor’s Tractor” (where Nikita Khrushchev was reincarnated as the title character)?
I am reminded of a Barnes & Noble book called Russian for Beginners, which contained the most improbable phrases you ever heard: My favorite was this one:
I have grave doubts about the truth value of that story. While “Nina Kotova” is a valid Russian name (there is a violinist of that name), the fact is that Kotov is based on кот (kot), which means “cat.” And the Russian media has no hint of this story; the few blogs that mention “136 cats” all link to this video.
I have grave doubts about the truth value of that story … And the Russian media has no hint of this story
I can only read the English, but for whatever it’s worth, I prefer the Pevear and Volokhonsky to the Ginsburg.
My favourite Hungarian textbook refers constantly to “vowel hamrony”. It seems so appropriate; I grew to love intoning “hamrony” as if it were a Hungarian word. (You have to be a little obsessed, of course.)
I like the Michael Glenny translation best. It has some goofs in it, but I think it captures the voice and tone of the original best. For what it’s worth, it’s the translators’ choice (ie I know four literary translators who prefer it).
Jamessal and Mark, you’re actually lucky not to be able to read those articles. One’s entitled “hairy pussies”.
I am reminded of a Barnes & Noble book called Russian for Beginners, which contained the most improbable phrases you ever heard
I am in turn reminded of a c.1990 Kellogg’s TV ad of a woman struggling with a Serbo-Croatian linguaphone tape, repeating sentences like “I will be unable to attend the wild pig hunt” and “The last train left three days ago”. It wasn’t very funny at the time, but still less in the light of what happened to Serbo-Croatian shortly thereafter.
From a Quechua phrasebook written by someone who wanted anyone foolish enough to use it to get into deep, deep trouble.
In one scenario there are things to say when meeting “an important person”. What the Quechua really says (as opposed to the translation) is (working from memory here): “I’m tired and lost, I don’t like it here. I want to leave.”
The best though was what you supposed to say to “the wife of an important person”. A Quechua scholar swore that the literal translation was: “My inner fibers twitch for you, my little hummingbird.”
In most circumstances a man would be unlikely to be asked this question, but many men might like to learn how to ask it. Many women will recall having been asked this question, and I would hope that the phrasebook provided a suitable reply (or choice of replies).
A Quechua scholar swore that the literal translation was: “My inner fibers twitch for you, my little hummingbird.”
Lovely anecdote though this is, this looks like a leakage from a grammar text rather than a phrasebook: see Etes-vous la reine de ce pays. Even so, looks like someone having a surreal joke … or maybe not, and this grammar book is in a rather bizarre world. See adjacently: “Did he find his purse?” … “He thinks that the tower of the church has fallen. Is he sure of it?” … “You have no book. I will lend you one.” … “The river is rapid and the current of it is strong. Do not expose him to it.”
This is from French Course Grammar by TH Bertenshaw. WTF was going through the brain of Thomas Handel Bertenshaw, even in c. 1890 when he wrote this?
RG: Lovely anecdote though this is, this looks like a leakage from a grammar text rather than a phrasebook
I assure you that my examples are from a very old phrasebook, which must have come into our family from my great-grandfather (born circa 1865), who may have bought it secondhand. The book (quite worn in appearance) is still in my family, but I am too far from them to check the date and author. When I was young we used to have fun reading the book aloud, which is why I still remember some sentences.
It is possible that Bertenshaw took some of his examples from that phrasebook, rather than the opposite, as many of the conversation samples were indeed bizarre, even granting that they reflected an earlier way of life (unless Bertenshaw was also the author of the phrasebook? then the grammar could have been a companion to the phrasebook).