01.05.09
My Little Red Russian Book
Owing to The Namesake, a flood of unliterary activities, and with only a few minutes to spend with a book since the new year began, I sentenced these modest minutes to my inexpensive little red book of The Best Russian Short Stories, compiled and edited by Thomas Seltzer.
The pages have been previously browsed through and considered lightly, but as these stories accumulate years and so do I, I have found more substance in them other than my juvenile description, “depressing.” Of course, they still fall in that category technically as the Russian literary giants Pushkin, Gogol, Turgenev, Dostoevsky, and Tolstoy have proved even in the first five stories of the book. But despite the few laughs that I allowed to slip during The Overcoat, I still felt how much these authors of Russian literature’s golden era were preoccupied with death’s shadow. Their open acceptance on how death plays an enormous role in life along with human frailties allowed their literal portraits to possess richer emotional depth. Surprisingly, I no longer felt “depressed” afterwards, but rather, more satisfyingly familiar and acquainted with life itself.
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“Books are good enough in their own way, but they are a mighty bloodless substitute for life,” quoth R. L. Stevenson. As an ardent lover of books, I have neglected this saying deliberately, but the past few days have shown me that there is indeed truth to it. While I spent more time speaking with people I love, sharing thoughts with them, making music with them, reading did not seem to beckon as much as it used to, and now, the Bible exempted, and with slight reluctance, I agree with this quotation. Stevenson continues, “And if a man reads very hard, as the old anecdote reminds us, he will have little time for thought.” Now, ain’t that counsel enough? The reality of other people’s thoughts inhabiting my mind instead of my own should also be balanced well. Hmmm… I should take reading a bit (but just a teeny bit) easily. I think the space of twenty four looooong hours between two books is quite good enough. ;-)
Karlo said,
January 5, 2009 at 8:21 am
Most people see Russian literature negatively, that is as lopsidedly “melancholic” and “depressing” and “suicidal” and so on.
What this view misses out is Russian literature’s is exactly its ability to distill what the classicist Jane Harrison said in 1919 as “the complexity and concreteness of life” - including death, madness, suicide, homicidal urges, tyranny, and whatever - into words; what Dr. Catriona Kelly describes in her Introduction to Russian Literature as the “ability to embrace spiritual and material worlds.”
One of Russian literature’s strongest points is its searing analysis and direct engagement with “areas of human experience that we sometimes prefer not to think about.”
Miracle ♪♫ said,
January 5, 2009 at 8:52 am
Precisely, Karlo. For lack of a better term, “courage” is what I now recognize in Russian authors. Their ability to delve profoundly in the truths of real life are overwhelming. The melancholy quality is definitely still there, but Russian Lit is truly so much more than that, and “depressing”, “melancholy”, and “suicidal” are but mere superficial adjectives to describe a - forgive the cliché - tip of an iceberg.
Karlo said,
January 5, 2009 at 10:59 am
Yes, and do forgive the obvious typo in the second paragraph (as usual). . .
Miracle ♪♫ said,
January 5, 2009 at 12:37 pm
Don’t worry about those. They’re evidence that the brain is working faster than the fingers. haha
mika said,
January 5, 2009 at 12:55 pm
yes, there is nothing really like life. i remember the UP lantern parade day, and how it made all the joys of music seem smaller in comparison to the joy of living. but i do wonder if i would have experienced that day as fully without art in my life; for it seems that art opens my eyes and makes me more sensitive to life.
Miracle ♪♫ said,
January 5, 2009 at 4:45 pm
Remembering your entry makes me smile, Mika. =)
I felt the joy that you shared with your friends too, but then again, reading about it is nothing compared to your actual experiences.
Art enables us to live fuller lives, Mika. I for one cannot imagine life without it… but it would be healthier if we integrate a fair proportion of life in our art, and art in our lives. Then we may boldly say “life is art” / “art is life”.