![]() Glenny, somehow, got the nod from the Translator's Association in that 50 translations list, for his old 1967 version. "Empty was the alley"? Really? And "By the way"? And now the sun is neither plunging nor collapsing. At an hour when it seemed almost impossible to breath, when the sun, scorching Moscow, was plunging into the dry haze somewhere beyond Sadovoye Ring Road, no one sought shelter in the shade of the lindens, no one sat down on the benches. Not a single human was to be found in the vicinity of the booth or, indeed, in the entire alley that ran parallel to Malaya Bronnaya Street. But otherwise similarly solid.īy the way, it is worthwhile to note the first strange thing about that horrible May afternoon. Hmmm, they've lost Bulgakov's singular ahem-ing at the start, those little unneccessary bits that makes it feel like he's yanking on my arm and confiding the details as they occur to him. At a time when no one, it seemed, had the strength to breathe, when the sun had left Moscow scorched to a crisp and was collapsing in a dry haze somewhere behind Sadovoye Ring, no one came to walk out under the lindens, or to sit down on a bench, and the path was deserted. Absolutely no one was to be seen, not only by the refreshment stand, but all along the tree-lined path that ran parallel to Malaya Bronnaya Street. ![]() 1995, one of the first translations of the complete text:Īnd here it is worth noting the first strange thing about that terrible May evening. So here the sun is "collapsing", but it works.ģ. ![]() At that hour when it seemed no longer possible to breathe, when the sun, having scorched Moscow, was collapsing in a dry haze somewhere beyond Sadovoye Ring, no one came under the lindens, no one sat on a bench, the walk was empty. There was not a single person to be seen, not only at the stand, but also along the whole walk parallel to Malaya Bronnaya Street. Richard Pevear's, for Penguin Classics, probably currently the most popular:Īh, yes, note must be made of the first oddity of this dreadful May evening. "tumbling in a dry haze"? See, it's gorgeous.Ģ. At that hour, when it no longer seemed possible to breathe, when the sun was tumbling in a dry haze somewhere behind Sadovoye Circle, leaving Moscow scorched and gasping, nobody came to cool off under the lindens, to sit down on a bench. Not a soul was to be seen around-not only at the stall, but anywhere along the entire avenue, running parallel to Malaya Bronnaya. Oh, yes, we must take note of the first strange thing about that dreadful May evening. But I have several editions, so I can jump back and forth if I need to catch a deleted scene.Īnyway, there are actually at least six English translations now, and this is a comparison of an early passage, both idiosyncratic and lyrical: Of course, this means going back to a translation based on the censored soviet publication, whereas new translations are based on the uncensored original manuscript. So this time, having totally loved the language in Mirra Ginsberg's fantastic translation of Yevgeny Zamyatin's The Dragon: Fifteen Stories, I decided to go with her older 1967 version. Last time, maybe 5 years back, I read the new Penguin Classics edition (Richard Pevear translation) and I enjoyed it but wasn't as bowled over as I expected from this being the favorite novel of many friends. I'm reading The Master and Margarita for the second time.
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