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"Russian Gothic Tales from the Twentieth Century"
Finally, having lusted after this for a year I finally broke down and bought it online. It didn't disappoint. The reasons, well, it contained a translation of Chayanov's "Venediktov", which was the tale that inspired Bulgakov's "The Master and Margarita". The fact that Chayanov used "Bulgakov" as the narrating character no doubt set the hook. The parallels are obvious, and Chayanov's source material is every bit as inspired as Bulgakov's masterpiece. Then there are few tales as well by Bryusov, who's "The Fiery Angel" I found as well terrific. And there are many other tales of horror, of homunculi, madmen, insanity, demon-haunted mirrors, of men on the cusp of dying, where the veil between this world and the next is shorn and rendered in the half-light of madness; it was, in short, a fine and worthwhile anthology of Russian authors not conveniently in translation. Perfect reading for a cold and rainy fall day.
Now back to Bloch...
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Read, enjoyed. Dover thrift edition. He has a talent for prose.
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So this, my first check-out from the library, a proper Oprah Book Club Pick, a staff recommendation.
Enjoyable, a woman author (my daughter was giving me grief, not my fault that men write more to my taste than women...) - enjoyable, quirky, amusing, but a little lighter than I'm used to. I don't mind light, quirky, etc - but I'd prefer it in slimmer volumes.
While I can understand it's popularity, I'm a little perplexed at the reviews. I mean - not bad - but a long way from being great.
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"A sometimes terrifying, sometimes hilarious collection of writing on the perils of the road"
So begins an anthology of travellers tales that more or less go badly. Some, I've read before, Peter Matthiessen, Wilfred Thesiger, Eric Newby, others were new to me.
An overrepresented sampling of Canadian and western authors, and - given the date of publication, 1990 - well, the world was a very much different place. That, at least, I like.
The stories, for the by and large, the excerpt from the larger tale doesn't for the most part compel me to read the entirety. Perhaps, in such instances as the tales by Graham Greene or Dirk Bogarde or Umberto Eco, make me want to read the entire volume, capture the entire sense of the journey or novel, but - as an anthology it fell rather flat in my eyes.
As an introduction to authors I haven't yet read - and many I won't, it was fine, but it's soon to back to the bookstore with this and search out something a little more substantial.
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Robert Byron, the Penultimate Travel Writer, on Visiting Russia and Tibet in the early '30's.
His visit to Russia, perspicacious observer of customs, intelligent, entirely at odds with the revolution and the 5 year plan, rejecting all offers to tour the factories and means of production instead spending his time in the churches looking up the Icon Painters Roublev & Theophanes, studying Byzantine art, visiting the portrait "Our Lady of Vladimir", making his notes on architecture, the mood and disposition of the populace.
He's erudite, well educated, informed, the ideal travel writer.
Then, by Aeroplane to Iraq, which takes a week as they are forever stopping in Spain, Italy, Greece, Africa, Turkey - for lunch, to overnight, to visit and see the sights, take on petrol, pick up mail, much like a jaunty automobile trip, visiting all the furthest flung outposts of the Empire, stopping at abandoned forts and castles still populated with the dressed skeletons of the former inhabitants.
Once upon a time he was the norm, for an educated man of privilege, now he would be rarer than...well.
His descriptions, Darjeeling, the climb into Tibet, the oft-repeated instances of British Bad Behaviour and unfavourable reporting on their customs (culturally insensitive, and Byron after his own fashion continues the tradition) in Tibet had made them rather unwelcome visitors, and so he's travelling without the certainty that he'll be allowed in...
British Tourism hasn't changed much.
Comical but cruel descriptions of the locals, stooping to the scathing, his descriptive powers are unsurpassed, every course of every meal is detailed, his descriptions of the flora, fauna, customs, he epitomizes the British Nobleman Abroad, easy manners, privilege, his condescension towards the local people and custom.
It's a great read, and I while I frequently find I share his views (or means of expressing them) it also is a reminder to question my prejudices, again, it would be as interesting to read some of the local commentary made upon him. A much different travel writer than Alexandra David-Néel, who covered the same ground but in an entirely different fashion not even a decade before.