In this surprising new collection of Soviet writer Kharms's short pieces, including poetry and journal entries (one of which appeared in the New Yorker earlier this month), readers will find echoes of Beckett, Ionesco and Kafka, among others. Indeed, Kharms (1905–1942) was part the OBERIU (Association of Real Art), a Soviet artists' collective often described as Absurdist in orientation. A self-proclaimed member of the avant-garde, Kharms made often violent nonsense out of everyday life. In 1931, he was briefly exiled because his work did not promote Socialist Realism, as Yankelovich explains in an informative introduction. Kharms's life suffered a complete reversal after his return, a fact that shows in his writing. There's a youthful showiness to the earliest work that is replaced by a more fierce desperation in the later years, when Kharms often went hungry and knew his work would not be published. The book's wonderfully contradictory title, is in unexpected contrast to the weary resignation of a journal entry: Today I wrote nothing. Doesn't matter. Yankelovich, who provides the fine translations, makes much of the dramatic possibilities inherent in the work but almost combatively refuses to read any political meaning into his subject's writings, which alternate between playfulness and a sense of futility. (Oct.)
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Daniil Kharms has long been heralded as one of the most iconoclastic writers of the Soviet era, but the full breadth of his achievement is only in recent years, following the opening of Kharms' archives, being recognized internationally. In this brilliant translation by Matvei Yankelevich, English-language readers now have a comprehensive collection of the prose and poetry that secured Kharms's literary reputation--a reputation that grew in Russia even as the Soviet establishment worked to suppress it.
A master of formally inventive poetry and what today would be called "micro-fiction," Kharms built off the legacy of Russian Futurist writers to create a uniquely deadpan style written out of--and in spite of--the absurdities of life in Stalinist Russia. Featuring the acclaimed novella "The Old Woman" and darkly humorous short prose sequence "Events" (Sluchai), Today I Wrote Nothing also includes dozens of short prose pieces, plays, and poems long admired in Russia, but never before available in English.
A major contribution for American readers and students of Russian literature and an exciting discovery for fans of contemporary writers as eclectic as George Saunders, John Ashbery, and Martin McDonagh, Today I Wrote Nothing is an invaluable collection for readers of innovative writing everywhere.
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这部作品的笔触细腻入微,那种对日常琐事的捕捉简直到了令人咋舌的地步。它不像是那种情节跌宕起伏的小说,反而更像是一本老友的日记被意外翻开,每一个字都带着一种未经修饰的真实感。作者似乎有一种魔力,能将最平淡无奇的场景,比如清晨厨房里咖啡机发出的咕噜声,或是通勤路上窗外飞速后退的街景,描绘得如同古典油画般富有层次和深意。读到那些关于“等待”的段落时,我仿佛能感受到那种时间缓慢流逝的重量,那种在无所事事中思考人生终极命题的哲学思辨。它没有宏大的叙事目标,所有的焦点都聚集在“存在”本身,探讨着个体如何在不被世界注意到的角落里,默默完成着自我的构建与确认。这种内向的、高度自我审视的叙事方式,对于习惯了快节奏、强情节的现代读者来说,或许会是一个挑战,但对于那些渴望在文字中寻找片刻宁静、进行深度自我对话的人而言,这简直是久旱逢甘霖的体验。书中的留白处理得极其高明,许多重要的情绪和转折点都隐藏在那些看似随意的片段之间,需要读者自己去拼凑和感受,这使得阅读过程变成了一种主动的、充满发现乐趣的智力活动。
评分我得说,这本书的节奏感非常独特,它不是那种让你一口气读完,然后拍案叫绝的类型,而更像是一场漫长而宁静的冥想。它拒绝了传统叙事的逻辑链条,让你在字里行间游荡,时而停留在某一个精准捕捉到的感官细节上(比如雨后泥土混合着青草的独特气味),时而又被一个突如其来的、看似无关紧要的观察所吸引。这种破碎感,在我看来,恰恰是对现代人精神状态最诚实的反映——我们的大脑就是这样碎片化的,思绪总是在不同主题间跳跃,无法保持长时间的线性聚焦。每一次翻页,都像是在重新校准我的内心频率,将我从外部世界的喧嚣中剥离出来。我尤其欣赏作者在情绪表达上的克制,那些最深沉的悲伤或最热烈的喜悦,往往不是通过激烈的辞藻来表现,而是通过对环境光影的描摹,或是对身体微小反应的捕捉来实现的。这种“以景写情”、“以物喻心”的手法,使得情感的冲击力反而更加持久和内敛,像酒一样,初尝平淡,回味悠长。
评分如果非要给这本书找一个标签,我可能会称之为“反高潮主义的胜利”。它太反叛于主流文学的期待了,没有任何英雄、密谋或惊天动地的爱情。相反,它聚焦于那些我们通常会忽略的“无事发生”的日子。但正是这些“无事发生”,构成了我们生命的底色。作者对日常工具、家具、光线角度的描绘,带有近乎偏执的细节控倾向,仿佛在说:停下来,看看你身边这些被你习以为常的事物,它们其实也承载着意义和历史。这种对平凡的致敬,让这本书有了一种近乎神圣的庄严感。我读的时候,经常会产生一种错觉,好像我不是在读一个故事,而是正在某个陌生人的房间里,静静地待着,观察着他的生活轨迹是如何被这些微小的、重复的动作所塑形的。它提供了一种难得的视角——从极度微观的角度去审视宏观的人生状态,让人开始反思自己是否也因为追求“大事”而错过了生活本身最温柔的絮语。
评分我欣赏这本书中那种近乎冷峻的客观性,尽管它探讨的都是极为私密和内心的体验,但作者却始终保持着一种距离感,像是一位冷静的观察者记录着一个自己也身处其中的世界。它没有试图去说教,也没有提供任何廉价的安慰或解决方案。你读完之后,不会感到“问题解决了”,反而会有一种“问题被清晰地界定并展示了”的感受。这种直面存在困境而不回避的勇气,是这部作品最让我敬佩的地方。它将“无所事事”——这个在现代社会被视为一种缺陷的状态——提升到了艺术创作的维度。它挑战了我们对“什么是值得记录”的传统认知。那些看似未完成、未展开的思绪,恰恰构成了它完整的内在逻辑。这种结构上的去中心化处理,使得整本书像是一个由无数独立的小行星组成的星系,每一个片段都有其独立的引力场,但组合在一起又形成了一个和谐的整体。对于寻求深度阅读体验,而非仅仅消磨时间的读者来说,这本书无疑提供了丰富的回味空间。
评分这部作品的语言风格达到了极高的纯粹度。它避免了任何华丽的辞藻堆砌,力求用最简洁、最精准的词汇去触达核心的感受。读起来,你会发现语句结构非常洗练,很少有冗余的修饰成分,仿佛每一句话都是经过了无数次打磨,只剩下骨架和最必要的肌理。这种简约的力量是惊人的,它迫使读者的大脑必须主动参与到意义的构建中去,因为作者已经把大部分的“解释工作”都留白了。它不喂养你,而是邀请你一同思考。对我来说,这更像是一种智力上的协作。而且,这种风格带来的节奏感是极其舒缓的,没有高低起伏,如同呼吸,均匀而绵长,让你在阅读过程中不知不觉地放松下来,进入一种类似催眠的状态。那些描绘自然界瞬间变化的段落尤其出色,例如对一片叶子如何从嫩绿转向枯黄的细致捕捉,体现了作者对时间流逝的敏锐洞察力,那份对“变”的敏感,是真正文学功力的体现。
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