Khrushchev in love


A list of dead old women: Kharms’ Вываливающиеся старухи, take 2, or, Разбираюсь ‘разбиться’.
January 22, 2008, 12:44 pm
Filed under: Kharms, Russia, Soviet Union, literature
My problem, here, anyway, is разбиться: My dictionary lists four definitions:

“1. to break; be broken; be smashed

2. to break up; split up

3. (of a plane) to crash

“4. to be badly hurt.”

Although when first reading the story, I got the feeling these old ladies were dead, the dictionary gave me an iffy feeling about that initial response. Clearly, the old ladies weren’t planes crashing, so cross out #3. Kharms does some insane stuff with language, but were the old ladies really breaking or splitting up? Probably not; #2 can go, too. So here’s the dilemma: If the old ladies were smashed, they were probably dead. Otherwise, per Katzner, they were just badly hurt. If they’re badly hurt, a lot of the punch is taken out of the story. But if they’re smashed (the closest English equivalent I can think of to what would happen to an old lady who fell out of a window due to immoderate curiosity), how in the hell do I translate that? We don’t usually say in English “she was smashed” without inviting questions like “by what?” or “she smashed” without “into what?”, so using a verb like ‘to smash’ would require extra information not found in the original – something like “smashed/crashed into the ground”. And how do I convey the sense of “she died” without adding an extra item to the list of events?

I also can’t decide what to do with the blind man at the end. The natural English would be “a blind man”, or “a lone/single/whatever blind man” if you need to say that he’s not part of a group of blind men. Kharms, though, specifically says “одному слепому подарили вязаную шаль” – “one blind man was given a knitted scarf”. What’s he doing there? Starting a new list? Reflecting the series of old women, but this time as blind men? Just starting a new story? Anyway, I went with “a blind man” for now. Here’s my current stab, with a few more tweaks.

“One old woman, due to her immoderate curiosity, tumbled out of a window, and fell, killed in the collision.

“From the window another old woman leaned and began to look down at the wounded old woman but, due to immoderate curiosity, she also tumbled out of the window, and fell, killed in the collision.

“Then from the window tumbled a third old woman, and then a fourth, and then a fifth.

“When the sixth old woman tumbled out, I got tired of watching them, and I set off for Mal’tsevskij market where, they say, a blind man was given a knitted scarf.”



A list of wounded grandmothers: Kharms’ Вываливающиеся старухи
January 15, 2008, 8:04 pm
Filed under: Kharms, Russia, Soviet Union, literature

“Одна старуха от черезмерного любопытства вывалилась из окна, упала и разбилась.

“Из окна высунулась другая старуха и стала смотреть вниз на разбившуюся, но, от черезмерного любопытства, тоже вывалилась из окна, упала и разбилась.

“Потом из окна вывалилась третья старуха, потом четвёртая, потом пятая.

“Когда вывалилась шестая старуха, мне надоело смотреть на них, и я пошел на Мальцевский рынок, где, говорят, одному слепому подарили вязаную шаль.”

“One old woman, due to immoderate curiosity, tumbled out of a window, fell and was badly hurt.

“Out of the window another old woman leaned and began to look down at the wounded old woman but, due to immoderate curiosity, also tumbled out of the window, fell and was badly hurt.

“Then out of the window tumbled a third old woman, and then a fourth, and then a fifth.

“When the sixth old woman tumbled, I got tired of watching them, and I set off for Mal’tsevskij market where, they say, a lone blind man was given a knitted scarf.”



The literary situation: Too arched.
January 12, 2008, 6:53 pm
Filed under: Russia, literature

“The response to Erofeev’s article [on the state of Soviet literature] was voluminous and vehement. Most of the responses agree that Soviet literature was undergoing a profound crisis [in 1990] and might indeed be dead. But many took exception to his more iconoclastic statements. One wrote, for example, that Erofeev’s complaint that Russian literature in general was excessively moralistic and didactic was the equivalent of criticizing Gothic architecture for being ‘too arched.’”

From Deming Brown, The Last Years of Soviet Russian Literature: Prose Fiction 1975-1991