I loved Davis’ knottiness, the way her English mirrored the flowing entanglement of Proust. It was entrancing to read despite its difficulty, and elevated its subject matter immensely. Less sure about the non-Davis volumes. But I am a strong believer in never reading Victorian language translations of writers who did not write in the 19th century (and in the case of Garnett, who is a smashing bore, even those who did). So no Moncrieff!
Separately I vastly prefer snow to any other Rilke, and from my limited German he most closely approximates the weirdly intangible way that Rilke wrote German a highly tangible language. I suggest you just prefer Bly as an English poet, direct speech and ordinary syntax and all, and that is why you prefer his version. Stephen Mitchell has quite serviceable English versions as well, without the manly pomposity Bly loved.
Finally Pevear and Volokhonsky are totally fine for two reasons: they struggle to place the original writer’s voice into English, weird diction and style and all, and they have made sure that huge swaths of Russian literature comes into translation in their wake (which I acknowledge is not per se a recommendation of their translations but is meant to emphasize their good faith in their approach).
I have read Garnett’s C&P and The idiot and I have read P&V’s versions and the latter is immeasurably better, in narrative drive, in understanding of the original, and in replicating the awkwardness of Dostoevsky which filters every perception of his work.
I loved Davis’ knottiness, the way her English mirrored the flowing entanglement of Proust. It was entrancing to read despite its difficulty, and elevated its subject matter immensely. Less sure about the non-Davis volumes. But I am a strong believer in never reading Victorian language translations of writers who did not write in the 19th century (and in the case of Garnett, who is a smashing bore, even those who did). So no Moncrieff!
Separately I vastly prefer snow to any other Rilke, and from my limited German he most closely approximates the weirdly intangible way that Rilke wrote German a highly tangible language. I suggest you just prefer Bly as an English poet, direct speech and ordinary syntax and all, and that is why you prefer his version. Stephen Mitchell has quite serviceable English versions as well, without the manly pomposity Bly loved.
Finally Pevear and Volokhonsky are totally fine for two reasons: they struggle to place the original writer’s voice into English, weird diction and style and all, and they have made sure that huge swaths of Russian literature comes into translation in their wake (which I acknowledge is not per se a recommendation of their translations but is meant to emphasize their good faith in their approach).
I have read Garnett’s C&P and The idiot and I have read P&V’s versions and the latter is immeasurably better, in narrative drive, in understanding of the original, and in replicating the awkwardness of Dostoevsky which filters every perception of his work.