Endnotes
“Houses of Suffrance”—i.e., Houses of the Necessary Evil. —Trans. ↩
The Russian term is “pharaoh.” —Trans. ↩
A German exclamation of disgust or contempt, corresponding to the English fie. —Trans. ↩
Probably a sly dig at Gautier’s Captain Fracasse. —Trans. ↩
A small, secret opening, unnoticeable from the outside. ↩
The Russian equivalent of “pox,” “syph.” —Trans. ↩
Positive—Benedict Arnold; comparative—Judas Iscariot; superlative—Georgii Apollonovich Gapon, priest and political agent provocateur. —Trans. ↩
Tony the Potato. —Trans. ↩
An untranslatable pun on Economochka, a diminutive for “housekeeper.” —Trans. ↩
Sourwater. —Trans. ↩
The Russian expression is “the red flag.” —Trans. ↩
The reference here is most probably to Chekhov. —Trans. ↩
The heroine of Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment. —Trans. ↩
“The little claw is sunk in, the whole bird is bound to perish”—a folk proverb used by Tolstoy as a subtitle to his The Power of Darkness. —Trans. ↩
All provincial towns. —Trans. ↩
Horizon is quoting a Nietzscheism of Gorky’s. —Trans. ↩
While there can be but little doubt that these four stanzas are an actual transcript from life, Heinrich Heine’s “Ein Weib” is such a striking parallel that it may be reproduced here as a matter of interest. The translation is by Mr. Louis Untermeyer. —Trans.
They loved each other beyond belief—
She was a strumpet, he was a thief;
Whenever she thought of his tricks, thereafter
She’d throw herself on the bed with laughter.
The day was spent with a reckless zest;
At night she lay upon his breast.
So when they took him, a while thereafter
She watched at the window—with laughter.
He sent word pleading “Oh come to me,
I need you, need you bitterly,
Yes, here and in the hereafter.”
Her little head shook with laughter.
At six in the morning they swung him high;
At seven the turf on his grave was dry;
At eight, however, she quaffed her
Red wine and sang with laughter!
↩
“Pay attention, baroness, the girl is rather educated for one of her position.” ↩
“Just imagine, I, too, have remarked this strange face. But where have I seen it … was it in a dream? … in semi-delirium? Or in her early infancy?” ↩
“Don’t trouble to strain your memory, baroness. I will come to your aid at once. Just recall Kharkov, a room in Koniakine’s hotel, the theatrical manager, Solovieitschik, and a certain lyrical tenor … At that time you were not yet Baroness de …” ↩
“But tell me, in God’s name, how you have come to be here, Mademoiselle Marguerite?” ↩
Somewhat like a Spitzenburg, but a trifle rounder. —Trans. ↩
Love. —Trans. ↩
In contradistinction to “thou,” as used to familiars and inferiors in Russia. —Trans. ↩
God is great. ↩
The Russian phrase is “Eedet!” —Trans. ↩
A verst is equal to two-thirds of a mile. —Trans. ↩
Anglice, “confet” is a bonbon; “portret,” a portrait. —Trans. ↩
A Russian bon vivant, wit and poet (1781–1839), the overwhelming majority of whose lyrics deals with military exploits and debauches. —Trans. ↩
Orenburg has as high a reputation for woolens as Sheffield has for steel. —Trans. ↩
Schoolbooks (taking their names from their authors), upon which generation after generation of gymnazists have been brought up. —Trans. ↩
This story is Lit No. 29, by Guy de Maupassant. —Trans. ↩
In English, a “toff”; in American, a “swell.” —Trans. ↩
“My mastery of the German language is a trifle worse than that of the French, but I can always keep up my end in parlor small talk.” ↩
“O, splendid! … You have a bewitching Riga enunciation, the most correct of all the German ones. And so, let us continue in my tongue. That is far sweeter to my ear—my mother tongue. All right?” ↩
“All right.” ↩
“In the very end you will give in, as though unwillingly, as though against your will, as though from infatuation, a momentary caprice, and—which is the main thing—as though on the sly from me. You understand? For this the fools pay enormous money. However, it seems I will not have to teach you.” ↩
“Yes, my dear madam. You say very wise things. But this is no longer small talk; it is, rather, serious conversation …” ↩
Zolotorotzi—a subtle euphemism for cleaners of cesspools and carters of the wealth contained therein. —Trans. ↩
The first edition in English consisted—if the publisher is to be believed—of 1,225 copies, retailing from ten to sixty dollars per copy; the next edition—with the same qualification of its publisher’s statement—was of 1,550 copies, also prohibitively priced. This revised, augmented edition is the third. —Trans. ↩
In a delightful letter to me Kuprin has written: “I am not at all mistaken in saying that Yama was translated in all lands and realms—with the possible exception of the Touaregs and the Bottoludi. … I must say that in England and in Holland neither Yama nor Sulamith was allowed: the first for its naked truth; the second for its light-minded attitude toward the Bible. …” I myself, as a bookseller, have had occasion to supply Yama in Yiddish. And since the above was written, this version of Yama has been published in England and has met with deserved success. —Trans. ↩