Three books I'm determined to finish before the dude in the hoodie with the big razor shows up. I've started them all but it's early days yet. In order of purchase they are:
Don Quixote.
The Tale of Genji
The Arabian Nights.
As you can see they're all old, Don Quixote: early-17th century Spain: Genji: early-11th century Japan: Arabian Nights: possibly sometime in the early middle ages(?) They have several other characteristics in common. They're all fat, between 800-1000pp. None were written in English, so translation is very much part of the reading experience. Finally all are episodic, with short(ish) chapters making it easy to put one down for awhile to read something else.
Don Quixote is the John Rutherford translation which, I think, is the one Imp recommended here a while back. It is extremely contemporary and accessible, also very funny in a Pythonish sense. I completely understand why Terry Gilliam wanted to film it. The relationship between the Knight and Sancho Panza also evokes, to me, Blackadder and Baldrick. Whether this is down to Rutherford's Englishness or a straightforward representation of Cervantes intent I can't yet say.
Translation is also an issue with the Tale of Genji. Arthur Waley's is by far the most famous, and though readable, it's not immediately engaging and comes across as a bit flat. I can't help but wonder whether a middle-class 19th century English Bloomsberry-ite, who'd never visited East Asia, can really get inside the soul of a lady of the Heian period imperial court. Or whether anyone can at this distance. I will persist, but might take a look at other translations.
Of the three books The Arabian Nights is the one I find most hard to stop reading. It's got so much going for it. Loads of sex and violence. Fantastic plots. Stories within stories within stories. Gender politics. Jaw dropping Jinn's, and preposterous plot devices. It's one of those books you think you know, because we've heard or seen some of the stories since we were kids. But, honestly they're nothing like Sir Richard Burton's versions. It's uncanny but you can tell immediately that he profoundly understands what he's doing, in a way that I doubt Waley does. The magic is there from the first sentence. Glorious stuff.
Don Quixote.
The Tale of Genji
The Arabian Nights.
As you can see they're all old, Don Quixote: early-17th century Spain: Genji: early-11th century Japan: Arabian Nights: possibly sometime in the early middle ages(?) They have several other characteristics in common. They're all fat, between 800-1000pp. None were written in English, so translation is very much part of the reading experience. Finally all are episodic, with short(ish) chapters making it easy to put one down for awhile to read something else.
Don Quixote is the John Rutherford translation which, I think, is the one Imp recommended here a while back. It is extremely contemporary and accessible, also very funny in a Pythonish sense. I completely understand why Terry Gilliam wanted to film it. The relationship between the Knight and Sancho Panza also evokes, to me, Blackadder and Baldrick. Whether this is down to Rutherford's Englishness or a straightforward representation of Cervantes intent I can't yet say.
Translation is also an issue with the Tale of Genji. Arthur Waley's is by far the most famous, and though readable, it's not immediately engaging and comes across as a bit flat. I can't help but wonder whether a middle-class 19th century English Bloomsberry-ite, who'd never visited East Asia, can really get inside the soul of a lady of the Heian period imperial court. Or whether anyone can at this distance. I will persist, but might take a look at other translations.
Of the three books The Arabian Nights is the one I find most hard to stop reading. It's got so much going for it. Loads of sex and violence. Fantastic plots. Stories within stories within stories. Gender politics. Jaw dropping Jinn's, and preposterous plot devices. It's one of those books you think you know, because we've heard or seen some of the stories since we were kids. But, honestly they're nothing like Sir Richard Burton's versions. It's uncanny but you can tell immediately that he profoundly understands what he's doing, in a way that I doubt Waley does. The magic is there from the first sentence. Glorious stuff.
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