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Our November 2021 group read is We by Yevgeny Zamyatin.
Yevgeny Zamyatin's We is a powerfully inventive vision that has influenced writers from George Orwell to Ayn Rand. In a glass-enclosed city of absolute straight lines, ruled over by the all-powerful 'Benefactor', the citizens of the totalitarian society of OneState live out lives devoid of passion and creativity - until D-503, a mathematician who dreams in numbers, makes a discovery: he has an individual soul. Set in the twenty-sixth century AD, We is the classic dystopian novel ...

I started We but it is taking me too much effort to read it, so I quit after the first few pages.

I read this in October since my hold from the library came faster than expected. It took a while to get into it, but it was worth it as we saw the changes in D-503. It was an impressive read for me, and terrifying at times.

Leo wrote: "I started We but it is taking me too much effort to read it, so I quit after the first few pages."

I can totally understand that. The fractured writing style is unusual and many GoodReads reviews complain about it. Zamyatin was very idiosyncratic and one of the few Russian authors of his era who didn't succumb to pressure from peers to conform to Stalin's expectations for artists.

For me, I enjoyed the book mostly because it been named as a great influence on George Orwell's 1984. Similarities have been noted between WE and Brave New World although Huxley insists he never heard of WE until after Brave New World was written. Orwell apparently didn't believe Huxley, and apparently neither did Kurt Vonnegut Jr. who "cheerfully ripped off" the plot of Player Piano from WE and Brave New World.

The thing I find most interesting about WE and Brave New World is that in both cases the humans believe they are living in a utopia, not a dystopia. That's not the case in 1984 or The Handmaid's Tale where everyone is repressed and scared into submission.

I've read the book in original Russian in 2020, and here is my review: /review/show...

RJ - Slayer of Trolls wrote: "The thing I find most interesting about WE and Brave New World is that in both cases the humans believe they are living in a utopia, not a dystopia. "

Yes, the same can be said about °­²¹±ô´Ç³¦²¹Ã­²Ô²¹, it seems that for the 1920s-30s the optimism was higher in a general population so utopias were expected and authors played "it is only a veneer, the truth behind is awful"

RJ - Slayer of Trolls wrote: "...Kurt Vonnegut Jr. .... "cheerfully ripped off" the plot of Player Piano from WE and Brave New World. ..."

I didn't know that. Damn it, now you've made me almost want to re-read all those 3.

Oleksandr wrote: "Yes, the same can be said about °­²¹±ô´Ç³¦²¹Ã­²Ô²¹, it seems that for the 1920s-30s the optimism was higher in a general population so utopias were expected and authors played "it is only a veneer, the truth behind is awful""

It's interesting because it underscores the point that whether or not your consider a society to be a "dystopia" depends on your point of view. The wealthy and powerful men in The Handmaid's Tale probably didn't consider it to be a dystopia at all, and the same could be said in many other dystopias as well, I'm sure.

RJ - Slayer of Trolls wrote: "Oleksandr wrote: "Yes, the same can be said about °­²¹±ô´Ç³¦²¹Ã­²Ô²¹, it seems that for the 1920s-30s the optimism was higher in a general population so utopias were expected and authors played "it is only ..."

The dystopia would not be a dystopia to those living in the story. That is normal for them. The dystopia would be to us the reader. A society that has gone of course for whatever reason and looks close to what we already recognize.

I enjoyed We very much. It is tough read in general and you have to understand the time and area in which it was written.

It was hard for the characters to know who to trust, epecially D. Was he being used because of his job?

Rosemarie wrote: "It was hard for the characters to know who to trust, epecially D. Was he being used because of his job?"

I wondered that as well.

Leo wrote: "I started We but it is taking me too much effort to read it, so I quit after the first few pages."

I hated We, but I think any book deserves more than a few pages before you decide to quit.

Papaphilly wrote: "The dystopia would not be a dystopia to those living in the story. "

I agree, a good dystopia should masquerade as utopia, and е can be important that most members of it view it as such, so doin't plan to overthrow it

Ryan wrote: "I think any book deserves more than a few pages before you decide to ..."

I planned to give it another try later this month, especially because it's an important work. But it's the writing style, possibly combined with the translation, that's bothering me. And that doesn't change in the course of the book.

Leo wrote: "it's the writing style, possibly combined with the translation, that's bothering me."

The original uis pain to read as well, so I doubt it's translation

Oleksandr wrote: "Papaphilly wrote: "The dystopia would not be a dystopia to those living in the story. "

I agree, a good dystopia should masquerade as utopia, and е can be important that most members of it view it..."

And yet, my favorite dystopian novel is 1984 which is very East German in tone. Not many people think it's a utopia.

RJ - Slayer of Trolls wrote: "And yet, my favorite dystopian novel is 1984 which is very East German in tone. Not many people think it's a utopia."

Unsure - East Germany had an aspiring example just next to it, with the same language and culture. It affected GDR a great deal

Oleksandr wrote: "RJ - Slayer of Trolls wrote: "And yet, my favorite dystopian novel is 1984 which is very East German in tone. Not many people think it's a utopia."

Unsure - East Germany had an aspiring example ju..."

At the same time, it was a working society. Remember how many countries of the Socialist system were called workers paradise....

I've only just started it but I'm not finding the writing to be off putting like many have mentioned here and elsewhere.

I thought the stilted writing at first was used to depict D's state of mind. He didn't think for himself and just parroted slogans and ideas that he was taught.
He must have paniced when he realized that a lot of things he believed at first turned out not to be true.

I didn't mind the frequent ellipses as much as other readers did, but I did notice that it got jumpy sometimes. I often felt like I must have missed something and occasionally I didn't feel like I really knew what was going on in a particular scene. But I just rolled with it and I felt like I got the main idea.

i wonder if that is a translation issue or the writer style.

Papaphilly wrote: "i wonder if that is a translation issue or the writer style."

At least partially it is the writer style.

Oleksandr wrote: "Papaphilly wrote: "i wonder if that is a translation issue or the writer style."

At least partially it is the writer style."

I agree.

I’m still only 40 pages in. Not because I’m not enjoying it but because that’s normally how a read. A number of things a little at a time. I’ve had trouble finding short stories from the author that are in print. It seems he wrote a number of things and I wanted to see what some of his other works read like. Has anyone read anything else that he wrote?

I read The Dragon: Fifteen Stories, but that was a long time ago. It must have shortly after I read We for the first time.

Well, thanks to another dnf I already picked it up again and passed the 50%. Doing the best I can but still there appeared a number in the story and I totally missed where she came from. Also not getting what kind of portal this Ancient House is, but I have good hopes that this is the place where the adventure starts.

If it's U you're thinking off, she lives in his building and I think is the concierge some of the time.

haha, great guess Rosemarie! It's Ü, with an accent on the u. Thanks!

Anytime!

I can see that this novel influenced Orwell and Huxley, but I think that 1984 is much more tense and atmospheric and Brave New World has much more depth and is more developed.
It's still a great book within its time and has an interesting point of view, which is sometimes confusing and hard to read. I had to check often the chapter summaries to not miss something.

There's a new translation of We:

I read the Randall translation. But this new one coming out makes me wonder why there are so translations, and still coming. Is there something missing or erroneous in the existing translations?

Ryan wrote: "Is there something missing or erroneous in the existing translations?"

It is more that one cannot translate word-by-word, but should supply meaning by finding adequate phrases./puns/etc in another language, so it is always inventive

I understand that, and I can see room for a couple translations to improve on previous ones, but theoretically new translations should have something substantive to add. I would think that since the original Russian is unchanged a new translator would be unable to find anything that hasn't already been well-expressed by previous translations.

I have to assume any aspiring translators would have read all previous translations very closely, right?

I've seen a lot of arguments about various translations including introductions to new ones that insult older ones. I didn't find it too surprising with something like Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám where they can't even agree on the number of quatrains or even The Prince, but I would have thought something like Storm of Steel would be pretty straight forward due to its age & the modern mix of German-English. Apparently not even when the translations were done shortly after the specific edition of the book was published.

Let us compare:
(Any typos are my fault.)

Zilboorg, 1924.

RECORD TWO

Ballet
Square Harmony
X

Spring. From behind the Green Wall, from some unknown plains the wind brings to us the yellow honeyed pollen of flowers. One's lips are dry from this sweet dust. Every moment one passes one's tongue over them. Probably all women whom I meet in the street (and certainly men also) have sweet lips today. This somewhat disturbs my logical thinking. But the sky! The sky is blue. Its limpidness is not marred by a single cloud. (How primitive was the taste of the ancients, since their poets were always inspired by these senseless, formless, stupidly rushing accumulations of vapor!) I love, I am sure it will not be an error if I say we love, only such a sky -- a sterile faultless sky. On such days the whole universe seems to be moulded of the same eternal glass, like the Green Wall, and like all our buildings. On such days one sees their wonderful equations, hitherto unknown. One sees these equations in everything, even in the most ordinary, everyday things.

Here is an example: this morning I was on the dock where the Integral is being built, and I saw the lathes: blindly, with abandon, the balls of the regulators were rotating: the cranks were swinging from side to side with a glimmer; the working beam proudly swung its shoulder; and the mechanical chisels were dancing to the melody of unheard tarantella. I suddenly perceived all the music, all the beauty, of this colossal, this mechanical ballet, illumined by the light blue rays of sunshine. Then the thought came: why beautiful? Why is the dance beautiful? Answer: because it is an unfree movement. Because the deep meaning of the dance is contained in its absolute, ecstatic submission, in the ideal non-freedom. If it is true that our ancestors would abandon themselves in dancing at the most inspired moments of their lives (religious mysteries, military parades), then it means only one thing: the instinct of non-freedom has been characteristic of human nature from ancient times, and we in our life of today, we are only consciously--

I was interrupted. The switchboard clicked. I raised my eye -- O-90, or course! In half a minute she will be here to take me for the walk.

Bela Shayevich, 2021

Log 2
Brief:
Ballet. Quadratic Harmony. X.

Spring. Honey-yelllow pollen from some flower beyond the Green Wall blows in from the wild, invisible plains. This sweet dust dries out your lips so you have to keep licking them -- meaning that probably, every passing woman's lips must also be sweet (and man's, too, of course). This somewhat interferes with logical thinking.

But the sky! Blue and unblemished by even a single cloud (the Ancients had such strange tastes! Their poets found inspiration in those disorderly, thick-witted piles of loitering vapor). I love -- and I'm sure I can say this for all of us -- we love a sterile, immaculate sky like today's which makes the whole world look like it's made of the same immortal shatterproof glass as the Green Wall and all of our other structures. On days like this, you can see everything down to its bluest depth, things you've never noticed before suddenly reveal their essential algebraic formulations -- even the things you're used to seeing every day.

Example: this morning, at the hangar where we are building the INTEGRAL, I was suddenly drawn to the machines. The spheres of the regulators spinning with eyes closed, in sweet oblivion; the cranks a-twinkle, bowing left and right; the balance beam with a proud swagger in its swinging shoulders; the slotting machine bouncing its bit in time with the soundless music. I was suddenly overtaken by the beauty of this grand mechanical ballet glittering in the weightless, pale blue sunlight.

Then I asked myself: why is this beautiful? Why is this dance beautiful? Answer: because the movements are unfree. The deeper teaching of this dance lies in its absolute aesthetic bondage, its ideal unfreedom. And if it's true our ancestors were moved to dance during the most exalted moments of their lives (religious mysteries, military parades), there's only one conclusion: the instinct for unfreedom has been an organic part of human nature since the beginning of time, and we, in our current way of life, are only now consciously ...

I'll finish later: the intercom is clicking. I lift my eyes -- it's O-90 of course. In half a minute, she'll be here: it's time for our walk.

A few things immediately pop out: The 1924 seems old-fashioned, stiff, and uses British spellings (ex: "moulded" vs "molded"). The new is more like the way people speak today.

Old: "one passes one's tongue", "limpidness", "hitherto".

New: "you have to keep licking"

Old, passive: "I was interrupted."
New, active: "I'll finish later."

Another stylistic change is that in the modern one, the public announcements are in ALL CAPS. That gives a distinct feeling that seems accurate, even though Russian has no capital letters.

The new one makes more immediate sense to me in some things like "immortal shatterproof glass" vs. "eternal glass". Both mean the same thing, but the modern adjective "shatterproof" means more to me.

On the other hand, the old "the cranks were swinging from side to side with a glimmer" sounds better to me than the new "the cranks a-twinkle, bowing left and right".

Some differences are more than just a matter of style. Old: "dancing to the melody of unheard tarantella." New: "bouncing its bit in time with the soundless music." It doesn't really matter much, but you could call one translation "incorrect" based on whether that specific word "tarantella" was used in the original.

I find different translations of the same work to be very interesting as well. In this case my copy was translated in 1993 by cartoonist Clarence Brown.

It’s spring. From beyond the Green Wall, from the wild plains out of sight in the distance, the wind is carrying the honeyed yellow pollen of some flower.

I read the one by Natasha Randall.

Spring. From beyond the Green Wall, from the wild, invisible plains, the wind brings the yellow honey-dust from a flower of some kind. This sweet dust parches the lips -- you skip your tongue across them every minute -- and you presume that there are sweet lips on every woman you encounter (and man, of course). this somewhat interferes with logical reasoning.

I found this choice interesting: And then I thought to myself: why? Is this beautiful? Why is this dance beautiful?

Why did she put a question mark after "why" ?

Clarence Brown translated it as

But why-my thoughts continued-why beautiful? Why is the dance beautiful?

This is great fun! Actually, this little translation discussion is highlighting the reason that I’m not put off by the jumpy style of this novel. I’m reading it without looking to hard for a plot. I’m reading it as snippets of a world and state of mind that I do not know or understand but can imagine. I’m finding the writing/translations to be eloquent.

When it comes to translations, does one think exact word for word is more important than catching the essence?

Exact word-for-word is usually impossible except for trivial statements. Go read a book or watch a video about translation if you want to learn more.

One such book I like is Le Ton beau de Marot: In Praise of the Music of Language

Papaphilly wrote: "When it comes to translations, does one think exact word for word is more important than catching the essence?"

I think that’s what makes it exciting to me. There is no correct answer.

Having read these translations, I stand by my original statement: except for in cases where the age of the translation makes it sound old-fashioned or unnatural, a book with a competent translation requires no further translation. While the translations above are somewhat different, the feel is the same, and I don't feel one is significantly better than the others. Regardless of the translation, then, I feel the end experience would be very similar for the reader, except perhaps for a reader unusually sensitive to the style of the prose.

Ryan wrote: "Having read these translations, I stand by my original statement: except for in cases where the age of the translation makes it sound old-fashioned or unnatural, a book with a competent translation..."

It all depends why you are reading, what you like to get out of the book. If you just want the plot/story then sure, one decent translation is as good as any other, although perhaps clarity is the key. If you are interested in reading the prose for prose's sake - for the beauty and poetry of the written word - then the "clearest" translation may not be the one you are interested in. Or you might be interested in the translation that is most true to the author's original intent, the one that gives you the most insight into the writer.

But I do think that many new translations are just a way for book publishers to make some money off older books that would otherwise be in the public domain and therefore cheaply available to everyone.

I find that I have trouble enjoying a book if the translator's style gets in the way, and I agree that a new translation is not necessarily a better translation.
I was reading a Gogol short story, fortunately from the library, by a very popular pair of modern translators-and I couldn't read it.
I got a free copy of the story as an ebook, an older version, and enjoyed it much more.
I read the Penguin edition of We, which is the one depicted for our current read, and found the translation understated and effective.

Rosemarie wrote: "I was reading a Gogol short story, ..."

Which one, may I dare to ask? Just curious

It was The Night Before Christmas. I've also read a number of his other works, and loved The Inspector General.

It's hard to believe how different the society was back then, when you compare it to the post-1917 years.
But in both times there was a lot of social injustice.
In We they solved the problem-encourage and promote blind obedience-or else!

In the case of this book, the 1924 translation seems stiff and old-fashioned. I don't see a great difference between the other 3 we've looked at.

When poetry, slang, puns, or word-play are a big part of a text, then the translation can make a big difference to me.

The book I mentioned above, Le ton beau de Marot, contains many excerpts from 4 translation of Pushkin's Eugene Onegin. The one by Nabokov is the most technically correct in terms of meaning, but he doesn't even try to keep the rhymes or rhythm. Two others keep the rhymes and rhythms but twist the words around so much that I had trouble understanding what they were even talking about. The fourth was the most readable, and that is the version I used when I finally read the whole thing.

(Some reviewers of We suggest that there are racially stereotyped references to an African-descended poet in We, and that might be hinting at Pushkin. Personally, I don't remember that part of the story.)

Not too long ago I read a new translation of Beowulf. The translator used the word "Bro" a lot. Sure, if that word existed back then, those guys would have used it. But it pulled me out of the story. Apart from that, she made some nice choices.