So were
gathered together our group, perhaps with “spectacles on their nose, and
autumn in their hearts”, as Jewish intellectuals were characterized by
Isaac Babel in his book of short stories. These were written mostly in
the 1920s and the edition we had in front of us was translated by Boris
Dralyuk, known professionally by the proposer. His translation was
generally considered superior to previous attempts. Indeed, the proposer
substantiated this view by reading comparative packages from the
earlier translation by Macduff. The earlier version seemed too literal,
missing the feel of the original Russian in the proposer’s opinion. In
particular, the audience noticed the superior dialogue which gave a much
better rendering of the Jewish vernacular.
We had a
sustained discussion of the validity of the American colloquialisms to
reinforce the texture and nuances of the plot. “All right. You got
words. Spill” (Benja Krik in the King). “The chief, he got all the cops
together …” and so on. On balance, the jury was split, with the majority
perhaps favouring the transposition to low-life American. (See comments
on Runyon below.)
Having
visited the city as a tourist fairly recently, the proposer also
wondered that the author and translator had been very successful in
capturing the ‘tone’ of early 20th century life in Odessa.
Arguably, port cities have a particular culture, maybe due to a strong
itinerant population. Sometimes, there is a sense of lawlessness as in
these stories. Think of Marseille as depicted in “The French
Connection”. This book is centred on the Jews and their ability to rule
the city through a gangster culture, portrayed in Odessa with a distinct
mentality. Before WW2 it was permissible to depict the Jews as violent
gangsters capable of random violence.
Babel was
regarded as one of the most important authors in post-revolution Russian
literature. He was brought up in Jewish community, and was interested
in the art of the short story. Particular cited influences included
Kipling, and Maupassant, as serenaded in the sketch of Odessa near the
end of the book. He is the intellectual perhaps personified in the
schoolboy. Although written in the first person, they are only
semi-autobiographical and he has moved the elements about to make it
work.
With a
background in journalism, these could perhaps be considered as sketches
rather than stories, and the parallel with Dickens’ observations of
London life were noted. Babel fought in the Red Cavalry, and had an
ambition to be a Soviet writer, but it is clear that his subject matter,
sometimes satirical, did not endear him to the authorities.
The book was
open to general discussion. All concurred with the quality of the
dialogue, and loved some of the descriptive text, for example the
descriptions of the sky, of the sun (“!a piece of jam”, “a decapitated
head”). In Odessa he talks of the need for the sun, and of Gorky’s love
of the sun, whereas people in Nizhny Novgorod etc. are flabby, heavy …
incomprehensible, touching and immensely, stupefyingly annoying.
The
characters were well drawn, with a real feeling of underclass. The
similarities with Damon Runyon were noted by several readers, but I fear
the MBG were not the first to observe this! However, Runyon could be
considered a comic writer, Babel less so, although “The End of the
Almshouse” in particular is darkly comic. At least one of us dug out his
copy of ‘Runyon on Broadway’ and tried to make a direct comparison. In
general, he felt that the stories were also less well plotted than
Runyon, and is some cases the motives and outcomes were not clear, for
example in the killing of Froim the Rook after conflict with the Cheka
or secret police. On the contrary some said, this encapsulated the
random nature of the Odessan violence. Another point of difference from
Runyan was the greater emphasis on casual, random violence, as in the
instance above when Froim is killed for no strong, apparent motive.
Strong
socio-economic clashes were brought out so well in Babel’s text, again
notably in the story of the Almshouse. “We’ve crushed the Tsars.. no
more Tsars, no-one gets a coffin”. Alas, someone does get the coffin.
And so the Department of Communal Economy reorganizes the cemetery and
organizes their attack against the Burial Brotherhood who made a few
coins by use of their coffin for hire.
A comment
was made on ethnic characteristics, always a bit risky these days. He
drew the co-occurrence between the many red-headed characters that were
Jews and Scots. For example, Babel refers memorably to the “bosun, a
pillar of red meat, overgrown with red hair”.
We further
complimented the descriptive prose; the book’s strengths lay not only in
the dialogue. For example, “their journey took them down a joyless,
scorched, rocky road, past mud-brick shanties, past fields smothered by
stones past houses gutted by shells, and past the plague mound” or “the
whistle of asthma, the wheeze of submission escaped from the chests of
retired cantors, wedding jesters, circumcision cooks and spent sales
clerks”. This is powerful stuff!
Oh well.
Having concentrated to a greater degree than is perhaps usual on the
book in hand, without too much digression on historical inaccuracies or
perverse analogies, it was left to X to introduce a note of trivia. Did
we know that Efrem Zimbalist Senior, the Russian violinist mentioned in
“The Awakening”, was the proud father of Efrem Zimbalist Junior who
appeared in 77 Sunset Strip. No we did not! Subsequent browsing
suggested that Junior was even held up as a role model for real FBI
employees. Hmm, and you’ll be telling me next the actor who almost got
the part of Rick in Casablanca (played by Bogart) became President of
the United States. Then you’ll be telling me that a reality TV …. (Leave
it there! Ed.)
Finally,
there was a discussion on women’s’ versus men’s’ versus mixed book
groups. I don’t recall all the main issues but I do know we did a straw
poll on how many male and female authors we have read. If you want to
know the answer, it is easy. Just look at our index of authors.
We had now left the text completely. We realized it was time to home.
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