{"id":8181,"date":"2021-03-27T13:04:04","date_gmt":"2021-03-27T12:04:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.lesestunden.de\/?p=8181"},"modified":"2021-04-03T15:09:31","modified_gmt":"2021-04-03T13:09:31","slug":"eine-gewohnliche-geschichte-iwan-gontscharow","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.lesestunden.de\/en\/2021\/03\/a_common_story-ivan-goncharov\/","title":{"rendered":"A Common Story \u2022 Ivan Goncharov"},"content":{"rendered":"\r\n

I had been eagerly awaiting this new edition and translation of A Common Story<\/em>. For me, it\u2019s one of the most promising books of the year. I\u2019ve already read Ivan Goncharov\u2019s Oblomov<\/em> (English: Oblomov<\/em>), which also appeared in the high-quality series Hanser Klassiker<\/a>. That novel absolutely thrilled me at the time\u2014I devoured it and loved it. Oblomov<\/em> is a character study you don\u2019t soon forget, one that belongs among the great works of literature for its eye for detail and its deep gaze into a human life. The blurb calls A Common Story<\/em> \u201cthe big brother of the world-famous Oblomov<\/em>,\u201d which certainly sets the bar rather high. It was also translated by Vera Bischitzky, a renowned and award-winning translator. All the conditions point to a first-class reading experience. Whether I found in this book Oblomov\u2019s<\/em> big brother\u2014you\u2019ll read in this review.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n

The young Aleksandr Fyodorych decides to move from the countryside to the capital, St. Petersburg, to start a career there. He stays with his uncle, Pyotr Ivanych, and Aleksandr\u2019s youth and inexperience quickly become apparent. The world of Petersburg reveals itself as disillusioning, and Aleksandr encounters his uncle\u2019s sober, calculating worldview\u2014which gradually proves to be the reality of life.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n

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The book starts slowly, describing Aleksandr\u2019s departure from his family\u2019s country estate. It\u2019s reminiscent of Oblomov<\/em>, which also begins at a gentler pace. Even when Aleksandr isn\u2019t at the center of these opening scenes, Goncharov uses the introduction cleverly to characterize his protagonist. I love these depictions of rural life in Russia at the time; they always have a unique atmosphere, strongly recalling Rousseau\u2019s \u201creturn to nature\u201d and conveying an ideal that never truly existed\u2014and certainly wasn\u2019t so picturesque for the servants as it may appear to a reader today. The story then quickly gathers speed, and I tore through the following pages with surprising ease. Aleksandr\u2019s drifting in the capital, his search for meaning\u2014this is, of course, very typical of a Russian author.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n

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I especially liked Aleksandr\u2019s uncle. He\u2019s a true realist who values feelings very little and thus serves as a counterpoint to the sentimental, dreamy Aleksandr. It\u2019s a bit like The Big Bang Theory<\/em>, where the uncle corresponds to Sheldon Cooper and Aleksandr\u2019s counterpart would be Leonard. The uncle is very clever, sees through Aleksandr\u2019s doings in detail, and is clearly his superior. Aleksandr, by contrast, dismisses rational decisions and is a weather vane in the winds of passion. Goncharov admittedly exaggerates his figures, but it\u2019s simply entertaining to read what situations Aleksandr gets himself into and how his uncle, in particular, advises him and analyzes his behavior completely. I found the dialogues between the two especially well done and entertaining. Overall, the course of the story was not very predictable. It\u2019s also well handled how beautifully Goncharov changes Aleksandr over the years\u2014how experiences cling to him and how he repeatedly contradicts himself. Toward the end, however, the figures and their thinking felt a bit constructed. In their views and behavior, the characters seem oriented toward illustrating a worldview, and I repeatedly had the sense that they were novelistic figures rather than real people. The life philosophy is coherent, though, and the book and its depicted story are realistic and convincing as a whole.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n

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The book reads very smoothly, and you repeatedly encounter beautiful sentences. In tempo and style it recalls the French authors, and here too there are emotional love adventures, though not with the intensity unique to the French. With the pleasant style and brisk pace, both the story and the protagonist develop at just the right rate. As the notes reveal, Pushkin inspired Goncharov greatly, and there are numerous allusions to poems and texts by the great, celebrated writer. The book had me truly engrossed; whenever I picked it up, it was hard to put down. It\u2019s simply exciting to read what becomes of Aleksandr and how his experiences change him. In doing so, Goncharov\u2014very typically Russian\u2014poses the big questions: about the value of love, of society, of human striving, and the meaning of life. Aleksandr even gives himself over at times to that Russian languor, though not with Oblomov\u2019s<\/em> perfection. The blurb\u2019s reference to what is \u201ctypically Russian\u201d fits perfectly here, and I enjoyed that aspect immensely. You\u2019ll find all the elements so characteristic of the great Russian authors: from rural life and the grand search for meaning to that distinct Russian lethargy, the vastness of the steppe, love stories in just the right measure\u2014all seasoned with reflections on the big picture.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n

A Common Story<\/em> was published in 1847\u2014thirteen years before Goncharov\u2019s Oblomov<\/em>. When Aleksandr lies lazily on his divan, you can already see early ideas leading toward the later masterpiece. Still, the parallels are limited, and Aleksandr\u2019s fate is different, even if it\u2019s characterized just as deftly. Like Oblomov, Aleksandr changes over the course of the story; he experiments and reflects on his life. In how this happens, Goncharov\u2019s hand is unmistakable. What I also find lovely and noteworthy in his style is the humor that keeps shimmering between the lines. As readers, we sense that Goncharov is always exaggerating just a little. Although the book radiates a certain seriousness through its depth, you can\u2019t help but smile\u2014from the uncle\u2019s quips to the way Aleksandr slips back into old patterns. When a hot temptress appears around the corner, his lofty thoughts and resolutions are quickly forgotten. And the uncle himself doesn\u2019t always hold to his own aphorisms that strictly.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n

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Goncharov was born in 1812 in Simbirsk\u2014practically the provinces, a small backwater. The notes indicate that the novel has autobiographical features, with clear parallels to his own path. When Goncharov lets Aleksandr discover Petersburg for the first time, it feels very real; the impressions are likely the author\u2019s own. In turn, Goncharov looks at the provinces from a city-dweller\u2019s perspective, and these cultural differences nicely highlight people\u2019s particular traits at the time. There\u2019s a distinct mood to it. That\u2019s precisely Goncharov\u2019s aim, and his novels offer a fine portrait of Russia in his era.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n

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The book as an object is once again a delight. I already knew the latest releases in the Hanser Klassiker series and had read them in other editions. This Goncharov volume, however, was a bull\u2019s-eye, and I had almost forgotten what a pleasure Hanser\u2019s beautiful books are. The jacket is made from a slightly heavier paper; as usual, the book is bound in sturdy linen with thread stitching, and altogether it simply feels good in the hand\u2014opening it, running your fingers across the cover. It\u2019s exactly the right size, and with its two ribbon markers, abundant notes, and afterword, it offers the premium quality one so rarely finds these days in such perfect form. The colors of the two ribbons are especially lovely, contrasted beautifully and echoing the dark turquoise tone of the cover paper. The typography, too, makes for a comfortable read. What can I say\u2014without such wonderful books, the world would be less beautiful and life less worth living.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n

Translator Vera Bischitzky, as mentioned at the outset, is very experienced and delivers a highly pleasing prose that captures the tone of the story beautifully. Remarkably, she leaves words without adequate equivalents in the original or supplies a note. Thankfully you won\u2019t find things like \u201clittle father\u201d (batyushka<\/em>) or \u201clittle mother\u201d (matyushka<\/em>) here, as in many older translations\u2014something I noticed very early while reading. It didn\u2019t surprise me that Bischitzky explicitly discusses this in her translation notes and gives examples of why choosing such ill-fitting words would be wrong. I also found some of her comments on the translation in the afterword very interesting\u2014she shares a bit of behind-the-scenes detail, and you can see the dedication and high standards that went into this book. She read the novel aloud several times to find the right rhythm and to achieve an effect that sounds more spoken than written\u2014just as the original does. This strong focus on rendering the original work as faithfully as possible is exactly what distinguishes today\u2019s best new translations.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n

The afterword itself is somewhat brief but reveals several interesting details. For example, the novels A Common Story<\/em>, Oblomov<\/em>, and The Precipice<\/em> (Die Schlucht<\/em>) form a trilogy in which Goncharov set out to portray different Russian eras and their transitions. She also writes about Goncharov\u2019s literary life, noting that for him the prerequisite for writing was to recount what he himself had experienced and observed.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n

Conclusion:<\/strong> I raced through this lovely book and could hardly put it down. A Common Story<\/em> is once again quintessential 19th-century Russian literature: from simple country life with its original characters to the big questions of life\u2019s meaning, love, and society. I still found Oblomov<\/em> a good notch better\u2014particularly because its figures are drawn even more beautifully and convincingly\u2014but A Common Story<\/em> is likewise of the finest quality. This edition, translated by an outstanding translator and presented with perfect production values, leaves nothing to be desired\u2014just as we\u2019ve come to expect from Hanser\u2019s series. A wonderful book and a clear recommendation. For anyone with a soft spot for Russian authors, or for those who loved Oblomov<\/em>, it\u2019s essential reading. But I can also recommend this very common story to everyone else.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n

Book information:<\/strong> A Common Story<\/em> \u2022 Ivan Goncharov \u2022 Hanser Verlag \u2022 512 pages \u2022 ISBN 9783446269255<\/p>\r\n\r\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I had been eagerly awaiting this new edition and translation of A Common Story. For me, it\u2019s one of the most promising books of the year. I\u2019ve already read Ivan Goncharov\u2019s Oblomov (English: Oblomov), which also appeared in the high-quality series Hanser Klassiker. That novel absolutely thrilled me at the time\u2014I devoured it and loved … <\/p>\n

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