3 Texts Which Are Especially Important For Me
In this post I want to share three fiction texts which I can really call my favorite books.
All the three texts I am going to talk about were written by the authors from different countries. There is one Russian, one English and one German book in this small collection. I read this texts for the first time in different ages, languages and under very different circumstances. I will not analyze these texts here as a philologist (there will be separate posts for this, I guess). Here I want to share only the emotions I experience as a reader when getting acquainted with these great books. Before sharing my opinion about each text I outlined the plot briefly so that it was more or less clear what I was talking about, but I tried to avoid spoilers.
And of course I recommend all of these texts to read, because I find them incredibly strong.
«Smoke Bellew» by Jack London
Briefly. This is a collection of short stories about gold diggers on Alaska bound together by the protagonist, Smoke Bellew. One day he leaves an editorial office in San-Francisco and sets off to Alaska. There he takes part in a sled dog race, plays roulette and of course seeks gold.
I read this text for the first time as a child, because my father being a huge fan of Jack London suggested it to me. Since then it became one the most important and favorite books of mine. I do not know how many times I read it, but I definitely have never read it in English. Not because I can not, but because I prefer reading Jack London in Russian. I read «The Little Lady of The Big House» in the original and I felt like there missed something important in this text, something fundamental. Since then I read London only in my native language.
«Smoke Bellew» always feels like a gulp of fresh air for me. It gives me a lot of inspiration and will-power. I reread this story when I feel sad, because I know it will help me feel better. When reading it I can almost breathe that — 50° air, hear the buzz of the roulettes in a saloon and feel Smoke Bellew’s deadly fatigue after having won the sled dog race. Maybe it is the exotic of Alaska’s life that makes this text so magnetic for me.
I also enjoy the language of this text a lot, I mean the way it sound in translation into Russian. I reread some sentences for many times, although they do not contain any especially important information. They just sound extremely good.
«The House on the Embankment» by Yuri Trifonov
Briefly. This is a novel about a literary scholar, Vadim Glebov. His life is shown in three different time periods of time: the middle of 1930s, the end of 1940s and the beginning of the 1970s. Throughout the story he remembers his relationships with his friends who lived in the house on the embankment (their home is a marker of prestige and prosperity of their families, because in this house only elite lived). The story shows the inner changes which happened with Glebov and the shift in his relationships.
I read this book in my final year at the university (2023), because it was on the obligatory reading list. I read it in Russian (the original) which is my native language, but this book was translated into many other languages, so it must be accessible.
I am just obsessed with the language of this text… I do not know why (and I am not sure I want to know, to tell the truth), but rereading some sentences just makes me ecstatic. I reread them for 5, 10, 15 times and it always feels not enough for me. One of such sentences is the last sentence of the text:
«The traffic lights flashed, the lights began to come on all around, the city that I loved, remembered, knew and tried to understand stretched out to infinity…» [2].
It sounds much better in Russian, believe me, but in English it is also gorgeous (as for me at least).
There are also some more personal reasons for which this novel means so much for me. When reading this text I always feel myself like I am again at the graduation course of my first university, which I love and miss a lot. When reading «The House on the Embankment» I feel like it is again middle spring in Saint-Petersburg, sunny and a bit cool weather, and I am a graduating student, I am happy and there are so many great things ahead. Moreover, it is a text about philologists and historians, so I can relate to the heroes and to the academic atmosphere depicted. Finally, there is Moscow of the XXth century described and I have a soft corner in my heart for this city as a place which is bound up with many pleasant memories, achievements and conversations for me. So, above all this book means for me a lot in terms of this personal connection and closeness of the topic.
But I also admire the way Trifonov describes the way a person changes. He shows the flow of the everyday usual life and those tiny shifts which person undergoes every day, every hour, every minute — every time he need to make a choice. You begin being one person and finish this life being a completely different one. The most exciting is that there is no sharp turning point which changes the person. It is just the flow of life — the actions we do every day, the events which happen to us and force us make certain decisions. They form a series of small changes which create a different people. This text always reminds me that every day I am making a choice which has got not only an up-to-moment value. That if I once want to arrive to a certain point in my life I need to make a proper decision every day, every time I am forced to make this decision. I feel the themes of this book important for me — the memory, the ways people change throughout their lives, the price which people pay for their success, etc.
«The Reader» by Bernard Schlink
Briefly. The action takes place in Germany in different periods of time (it starts in 1958, continues in the middle of 1960s and ends in the 1990s). A teenager Michael Berg has an affair with Hanna, a 36-year old tram conductor. An important part of their relationship is that Michael reads books aloud for Hanna. Suddenly Hanna disappears. They meet 6 years later in completely different circumstances and their relationship renews also in a different way.
I have just finished reading this book (June 2024) and it immediately became one of my favorite ones…
It was the second book I read in German (the first one was Remarque’s «The Night in Lisbon» and it was much easier). I got it as a present from my German friends who know I am learning their language. I have not yet reached even A2 in German, so it was extremely difficult to get through this text of course. Bernard Schlink’s syntax was almost killing me on every page and I was literally unable to make head or tail of some sentences without the translator (when it turned out there were several chapters devoted to the description of a trial, I got really frightened. I can barely read such things in my native language). But I was persistent… At the end of the book I caught myself thinking that I could understand even long sentences much better and the reading in the whole went more smoothly.
Of course, as a reader I was above all captured by the plot. I found the way this text evolved really intriguing and I always had a desire to read further, even though I experienced great difficulties with the language. The plot was definitely unexpectable, surprising and stirring (at least for my reading experience).
I was also touched with the difficult topics this text sets. The issues of crime, guiltiness, history, time, the attempt of Michael Berg’s generation to comprehend war crimes of the Nazi’s regime, the problems of relationship and separation absorbed me completely. I love reading about complicated issues, but especially I love reading about people’s relationships. The more difficult, the better. (The same goes for films — when it comes to the choice of a film I usually prefer to watch a psychological drama). I like thinking about difficult questions which these relationships evoke and the ways people give answers to this questions. I also watched a German-American film adaptation of «The Reader» shot in 2008 and that was the last straw — after that I had a total crush on the story…
You know, there are books which are undeniably good and interesting to read, but which do not touch deeply, do not captivate. The books which you read with certain enthusiasm, but which you close calmly when you read them to the end and do not disturb yourself with the thoughts about the text anymore.
«The Reader» is different.
I was surprised to understand that I deeply imbued with the main characters and their lives. «The Reader» became the first book in a long time which made me experience genuine interest in the characters’ fates. I remembered a well forgotten feeling of concern for the characters, of perception them almost like real people (well, studying at the philological faculty does not contribute to development of this ability at all). I guess, this happened in part because I was reading the novel not in my native language and was perceiving it not as a philologist (analyzing techniques, composition, narration, etc.), but as an ordinary reader.
It was the first book in a long time which I could not believe I had to finish, because I could not come to terms with the thought that this story would end. Last time I had such a crush on a book was when I was 13 and read «The Three Musketeers»… I keep thinking about «The Reader», keep understanding the main heroes, their deeds, fears and doubts and imagining what they could have done differently in their lives, keep trying to answer so many questions which this books set and which it does not give answers for, keep remembering episodes from the film adaptation. I just feel I can not let the heroes and their concerns go. Maybe that is what a very good book does to its readers.
Want to share one of my favorite fragments from the novel (in German, because I especially love how it sounds in German):
«Es ist eines der Bilder von Hanna, die mir geblieben sind. Ich habe sie gespeichert, kann sie auf eine innere Leinwand projizieren und auf ihr betrachten, unverändert, unverbraucht. Manchmal denke ich lange nicht an sie. Aber immer kommen sie mir wieder in den Sinn, und dann kann es sein, daß ich sie mehrfach hintereinander auf die innere Leinwand projizieren und betrachten muß. Eines ist Hanna, die in der Küche sie Strümpfe anzieht. Ein anderes ist Hanna, die vor der Badewanne steht und mit ausgebreiteten Händen das Frottiertuch hält. Ein weiteres ist Hanna, die Fahrrad fährt und deren Rock im Fahrtwind weht. Dann ist da das Bild von Hanna in Arbeitszimmer meines Vaters. Sie hat ein blau-weiß gestreiftes Kleid an, ein damals so genanntes Hemdblusenkleid. In ihm sieht sie jung aus» [1].
It is so great to live knowing that you have some favorite texts which you can from time to time reread and which will always be with you, whatever happens.
Just texts.
But they mean so much.
P.
Literature:
- Schlink B. Der Vorleser. Zürich, 1995. 207 p.
- Trifonov Y. The House on the Embankment. London, 1985. 153 p.
If you enjoyed this post, check some of my other texts:
