Joyce / Pushkin / Tolstoy Big Book of Best Short Stories - Volume 4

1. Auflage 2020
ISBN: 978-3-96799-602-9
Verlag: Tacet Books
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, Band 4, 1505 Seiten

Reihe: Big Book of Best Short Stories

This book contains 70 short stories from 10 classic, prize-winning and noteworthy authors. The stories were carefully selected by the critic August Nemo, in a collection that will please the literature lovers. For more exciting titles, be sure to check out our 7 Best Short Stories and Essential Novelists collections. This book contains: - Nikolai GogolThe Nose The Viy The Cloak Old-Fashioned Farmers The Overcoat Memoirs of a Madman The Mysterious Portrait - Anton ChekhovThe Lady With The Little Dog Ward No. 6 A Joke The Darling Kashtanka The Black Monk In The Ravine - Joseph ConradThe Idiots An Outpost of Progress Amy Foster Youth An Anarchist The Secret Sharer The Return - Leonid AndreyevLazarus On The Day of Crucifixion The Crushed Flower The Serpent's Story JUdas Iscariot The Little Angel A Story Wich Will Never Be Finished - James JoyceThe Sisters Eveline Araby A Painful Case The Dead Two Gallants After the Race - Fyodor DostoevskyWhite Nights An Honest Thief The Christmas Tree and the Wedding Notes From Underground The Dream of a Ridiculous Man A Little Hero Mr. Prohartchin - Alexander PushkinThe Queen of Spades The Shot The Snowstorm The Postmaster The Coffin-maker Kirdjali Peter, The Great's Negro - Turgenev'sA Desperate Character Knock, Knock, Knock A Strange Story The Dog The District Doctor The Inn Mumu - Alexei PeshkovOne Autumn Night Twenty Six Men and a Girl The Dead Man Waiting for the Ferry The Billionaire The Birth of a Man - Leo TolstoyGod Sees the Truth, But Waits Papa Panov's Special Christmas Three Questions Work, Death and Sickness A Legend How Much Land Does a Man Needs? The Death of Ivan Ilyich Alyosha the Pot

Nikolai Gogol was born on March 31, 1809, in Sorochintsy, Ukraine. His first successful book was Evenings on a Farm near Dikanka, which he wrote in the early 1830s, but his 1842 novel Dead Souls is considered his masterpiece. *** Anton Chekhov was born on January 29, 1860, in Taganrog, Russia. Through stories such as 'The Steppe' and 'The Lady with the Dog,' and plays such as The Seagull and Uncle Vanya, the prolific writer emphasized the depths of human nature, the hidden significance of everyday events and the fine line between comedy and tragedy. *** Joseph Conrad was a Polish author who wrote in English. Conrad always thought of himself as a Pole, but since he was writing in English the literary world regarded him as a great English author -- reportedly to his consternation. He was granted British nationality in 1886 when he was 28. *** Leonid Andreyev, in full Leonid Nikolayevich Andreyev, Andreyev also spelled Andreev, (born August 21, 1871, Oryol, Russiadied September 12, 1919, Kuokkala, Finland), novelist whose best work has a place in Russian literature for its evocation of a mood of despair and absolute pessimism. *** James Joyce was born in Dublin, Ireland. He published 'Portrait of the Artist' in 1916 and caught the attention of Ezra Pound. With 'Ulysses,' Joyce perfected his stream-of-consciousness style and became a literary celebrity. The explicit content of his prose brought about landmark legal decisions on obscenity. Joyce battled eye ailments for most of his life. He died in 1941. *** Fyodor Dostoyevsky was educated at home until 1833. He studied to be a military engineer, but shortly after graduating decided to become a writer. He experienced traumatic events, including a mock execution and exile. His work explored the human condition and is credited with shaping existentialism. Crime and Punishment is one of his most well-known novels. *** Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin was born on June 6, 1799 in Moscow. His first major work was the poem Ruslan and Ludmila. His political verses associated him with the Decembrist revolt, causing him to be banished. He worked on Boris Godunov and the novel in verse Eugene Onegin before Nicholas I allowed him to return to Moscow in 1826. Pushkin died at age 37 after being forced into a duel. *** Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev was born in Orel province, Russia, on 9 November, 1818. After a time working as a civil servant he met French singer Pauline Viardot with whom he had a lifelong affair. He set up residence in France and it was there that he began writing in earnest. Travelling often between Europe and Russia. Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev died in exile in Paris on 4 September 1883. *** Maxim Gorky was born in, Russia, on March 28, 1868. He worked in many jobs during an impoverished and abusive childhood before finding fame and fortune as a writer. Initially a Bolshevik supporter, Gorky became a critic when Vladimir Lenin seized power. However, Gorky later served as a Soviet advocate and headed the Union of Soviet Writers. He died in Moscow on June 18, 1936. *** Leo Tolstoy was born in Tula Province, Russia. In the 1860s, he wrote his first great novel, War and Peace. In 1873, Tolstoy set to work on the second of his best known novels, Anna Karenina. He continued to write fiction throughout the 1880s and 1890s. One of his most successful later works was The Death of Ivan Ilyich. Tolstoy died on November 20, 1910 in Astapovo, Russia.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Joyce, James

Pushkin, Aleksander

Tolstoy, Leo

Nemo, August

Gogol, Nikolai

Chekhov, Anton

Dostoevsky, Fyodor

Gorky, Maxim

Andre, Leonid

Andreyev, Leonid

Turgenev, Ivan

Conrad, Joseph

Leseproben

Born in 1828, Leo Tolstoy came from an aristocratic Russian family with links to some of the most powerful Russian families. He was the fourth cousin of Alexander Pushkin. In his early life, he struggled with his studies and drifted through life ending up with large gambling debts. Fed up with his aimless and empty life he volunteered to serve in the Russian army. However, this experiences as a soldier led him to become a pacifist in later life. He wrote his battlefield observations in Sevastopol Sketches, and this raised his profile as a leading Russian writer, gaining the attention even of the current Tsar. Later, looking back on these years he bitterly regretted his misspent years Tolstoy had a deep interest in seeking a greater understanding and justification of life. He travelled widely through Europe but became increasingly disenchanted with the materialism of the European Bourgeoisie. He could be argumentative with those he disagreed with such as Turgenev (widely considered the greatest Russian writer of his generation). He also developed an increasing sympathy with peasants, the poor, and those downtrodden from society. He went out of his way to help and serve them. In 1862 he married Sofia Andreyevna Behrs, 16 years his younger. This marriage provided a degree of stability out of which Tolstoy wrote his great epics War and Peace and the novel Anna Karenina. In the evening of his life, he developed a close relationship with a young Mahatma Gandhi. Gandhi was very impressed with Tolstoy’s belief in non-violent resistance, vegetarianism and brand of ‘anarchist Christianity’. God Sees the Truth, But Waits
IN THE TOWN OF VLADIMIR lived a young merchant named Ivan Dmitrich Aksionov. He had two shops and a house of his own. Aksionov was a handsome, fair-haired, curly-headed fellow, full of fun, and very fond of singing. When quite a young man he had been given to drink, and was riotous when he had had too much; but after he married he gave up drinking, except now and then. One summer Aksionov was going to the Nizhny Fair, and as he bade good-bye to his family, his wife said to him, "Ivan Dmitrich, do not start to-day; I have had a bad dream about you." Aksionov laughed, and said, "You are afraid that when I get to the fair I shall go on a spree." His wife replied: "I do not know what I am afraid of; all I know is that I had a bad dream. I dreamt you returned from the town, and when you took off your cap I saw that your hair was quite grey." Aksionov laughed. "That's a lucky sign," said he. "See if I don't sell out all my goods, and bring you some presents from the fair." So he said good-bye to his family, and drove away. When he had travelled half-way, he met a merchant whom he knew, and they put up at the same inn for the night. They had some tea together, and then went to bed in adjoining rooms. It was not Aksionov's habit to sleep late, and, wishing to travel while it was still cool, he aroused his driver before dawn, and told him to put in the horses. Then he made his way across to the landlord of the inn (who lived in a cottage at the back), paid his bill, and continued his journey. When he had gone about twenty-five miles, he stopped for the horses to be fed. Aksionov rested awhile in the passage of the inn, then he stepped out into the porch, and, ordering a samovar to be heated, got out his guitar and began to play. Suddenly a troika drove up with tinkling bells and an official alighted, followed by two soldiers. He came to Aksionov and began to question him, asking him who he was and whence he came. Aksionov answered him fully, and said, "Won't you have some tea with me?" But the official went on cross-questioning him and asking him. "Where did you spend last night? Were you alone, or with a fellow-merchant? Did you see the other merchant this morning? Why did you leave the inn before dawn?" Aksionov wondered why he was asked all these questions, but he described all that had happened, and then added, "Why do you cross-question me as if I were a thief or a robber? I am travelling on business of my own, and there is no need to question me." Then the official, calling the soldiers, said, "I am the police-officer of this district, and I question you because the merchant with whom you spent last night has been found with his throat cut. We must search your things." They entered the house. The soldiers and the police-officer unstrapped Aksionov's luggage and searched it. Suddenly the officer drew a knife out of a bag, crying, "Whose knife is this?" Aksionov looked, and seeing a blood-stained knife taken from his bag, he was frightened. "How is it there is blood on this knife?" Aksionov tried to answer, but could hardly utter a word, and only stammered: "I—don't know—not mine." Then the police-officer said: "This morning the merchant was found in bed with his throat cut. You are the only person who could have done it. The house was locked from inside, and no one else was there. Here is this blood-stained knife in your bag and your face and manner betray you! Tell me how you killed him, and how much money you stole?" Aksionov swore he had not done it; that he had not seen the merchant after they had had tea together; that he had no money except eight thousand rubles of his own, and that the knife was not his. But his voice was broken, his face pale, and he trembled with fear as though he went guilty. The police-officer ordered the soldiers to bind Aksionov and to put him in the cart. As they tied his feet together and flung him into the cart, Aksionov crossed himself and wept. His money and goods were taken from him, and he was sent to the nearest town and imprisoned there. Enquiries as to his character were made in Vladimir. The merchants and other inhabitants of that town said that in former days he used to drink and waste his time, but that he was a good man. Then the trial came on: he was charged with murdering a merchant from Ryazan, and robbing him of twenty thousand rubles. His wife was in despair, and did not know what to believe. Her children were all quite small; one was a baby at her breast. Taking them all with her, she went to the town where her husband was in jail. At first she was not allowed to see him; but after much begging, she obtained permission from the officials, and was taken to him. When she saw her husband in prison-dress and in chains, shut up with thieves and criminals, she fell down, and did not come to her senses for a long time. Then she drew her children to her, and sat down near him. She told him of things at home, and asked about what had happened to him. He told her all, and she asked, "What can we do now?" "We must petition the Czar not to let an innocent man perish." His wife told him that she had sent a petition to the Czar, but it had not been accepted. Aksionov did not reply, but only looked downcast. Then his wife said, "It was not for nothing I dreamt your hair had turned grey. You remember? You should not have started that day." And passing her fingers through his hair, she said: "Vanya dearest, tell your wife the truth; was it not you who did it?" "So you, too, suspect me!" said Aksionov, and, hiding his face in his hands, he began to weep. Then a soldier came to say that the wife and children must go away; and Aksionov said good-bye to his family for the last time. When they were gone, Aksionov recalled what had been said, and when he remembered that his wife also had suspected him, he said to himself, "It seems that only God can know the truth; it is to Him alone we must appeal, and from Him alone expect mercy." And Aksionov wrote no more petitions; gave up all hope, and only prayed to God. Aksionov was condemned to be flogged and sent to the mines. So he was flogged with a knot, and when the wounds made by the knot were healed, he was driven to Siberia with other convicts. For twenty-six years Aksionov lived as a convict in Siberia. His hair turned white as snow, and his beard grew long, thin, and grey. All his mirth went; he stooped; he walked slowly, spoke little, and never laughed, but he often prayed. In prison Aksionov learnt to make boots, and earned a little money, with which he bought The Lives of the Saints. He read this book when there was light enough in the prison; and on Sundays in the prison-church he read the lessons and sang in the choir; for his voice was still good. The prison authorities liked Aksionov for his meekness, and his fellow-prisoners respected him: they called him "Grandfather," and "The Saint." When they wanted to petition the prison authorities about anything, they always made Aksionov their spokesman, and when there were quarrels among the prisoners they came to him to put things right, and to judge the matter. No news reached Aksionov from his home, and he did not even know if his wife and children were still alive. One day a fresh gang of convicts came to the prison. In the evening the old prisoners collected round the new ones and asked them what towns or villages they came from, and what they were sentenced for. Among the rest Aksionov sat down near the newcomers, and listened with downcast air to what was said. One of the new convicts, a tall, strong man of sixty, with a closely-cropped grey beard, was telling the others what be had been arrested for. "Well, friends," he said, "I only took a horse that was tied to a sledge, and I was arrested and accused of stealing. I said I had only...