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tuesdaybrunch 's review for:
Dead Souls
by Nikolai Gogol
I think there are very few things that are truly timeless. Humor especially can be so entrenched in time, culture, and that ever so tricky thing called "taste" that it can be so easily lost or miss its mark entirely. However, Gogol's "Dead Souls" is certainly a timeless piece of fiction.
By my own admission, I don't like old books. It's shameful, I know, but the "Classics" are my literary vegetables; I try to down them as often as I know I should, but I often walk away saying "Yes, I suppose I see why this is done but I hope I never have to again." There's something about pre-20th century language and style that immediately wears me down and forcibly rolls my eyes.
But "Dead Souls" is hilarious. It's one of the funniest things I've ever read. Rayfield's translation perhaps is the key; it does not pretend that this book is almost two hundred years old and was written in an almost two-hundred year old syntax and style, and yet it feels fresh and is oh-so readable. The plot itself is almost beside the point; what matters here is the narrative voice. Gogol the narrator can't help but comment on every person, place, or moment, in a way that simultaneously pokes fun of the hypocrisies of not just Russia, but humanity, and is enlightening of the human spirit as a whole. Yeah, this book is just that good.
The only shame is that Gogol didn't finish what he planned. NYRB Classics and Rayfield include portions of the manuscript in book two that were lost, so towards the end there are narrative jumps that unfortunately can't help but lose the rhythm of the prose. It's the most complete translation, but you can't help reading it without feel a little regret that you must truck on with pieces missing.
This is perhaps the second book I've ever read in my admittedly short life that I would force everyone to read if I could.
By my own admission, I don't like old books. It's shameful, I know, but the "Classics" are my literary vegetables; I try to down them as often as I know I should, but I often walk away saying "Yes, I suppose I see why this is done but I hope I never have to again." There's something about pre-20th century language and style that immediately wears me down and forcibly rolls my eyes.
But "Dead Souls" is hilarious. It's one of the funniest things I've ever read. Rayfield's translation perhaps is the key; it does not pretend that this book is almost two hundred years old and was written in an almost two-hundred year old syntax and style, and yet it feels fresh and is oh-so readable. The plot itself is almost beside the point; what matters here is the narrative voice. Gogol the narrator can't help but comment on every person, place, or moment, in a way that simultaneously pokes fun of the hypocrisies of not just Russia, but humanity, and is enlightening of the human spirit as a whole. Yeah, this book is just that good.
The only shame is that Gogol didn't finish what he planned. NYRB Classics and Rayfield include portions of the manuscript in book two that were lost, so towards the end there are narrative jumps that unfortunately can't help but lose the rhythm of the prose. It's the most complete translation, but you can't help reading it without feel a little regret that you must truck on with pieces missing.
This is perhaps the second book I've ever read in my admittedly short life that I would force everyone to read if I could.