also: Николай Лесков Nikolaj S. Leskow Nikolai Leskov Nikolai Lesskow Nikolaj Semënovič Leskov Nikolaĭ Semenovich Leskov Nikolai Ljeskow Н. С. Лѣсков-Стебницкий Микола Лєсков
Nikolai Semyonovich Leskov (Russian: Николай Семёнович Лесков; 16 February 1831 — 5 March 1895) was a Russian novelist, short story writer, playwright, and journalist who also wrote under the pseudonym M. Stebnitsky. Praised for his unique writing style and innovative experiments in form, and held in high esteem by Leo Tolstoy, Anton Chekhov and Maxim Gorky among others, Leskov is credited with creating a comprehensive picture of contemporary Russian society using mostly short literary forms. His major works include Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk (1865) (which was later made into an opera by Shostakovich), The Cathedral Clergy (1872), The Enchanted Wanderer (1873), and "The Tale of Cross-eyed Lefty from Tula and the Steel Flea" (1881).
Leskov was born at his parent's estate in Oryol Gubernia in 1831. He received his formal education at the Oryol Lyceum. In 1847 Leskov joined the Oryol criminal court office, later transferring to Kiev where he worked as a clerk, attended university lectures, mixed with local people, and took part in various student circles. In 1857 Leskov quit his job as a clerk and went to work for the private trading company Scott & Wilkins owned by Alexander Scott, his aunt's English husband. He spent several years traveling throughout Russia on company business. It was in these early years that Leskov learned local dialects and became keenly interested in the customs and ways of the different ethnic and regional groups of Russian peoples. His experiences during these travels provided him with material and inspiration for his future as a writer of fiction.
Leskov's literary career began in the early 1860s with the publication of his short story "The Extinguished Flame" (1862), and his novellas Musk-Ox (May 1863) and The Life of a Peasant Woman (September, 1863). His first novel No Way Out was published under the pseudonym M. Stebnitsky in 1864. From the mid 1860s to the mid 1880s Leskov published a wide range of works, including journalism, sketches, short stories, and novels. Leskov's major works, many of which continue to be published in modern versions, were written during this time. A number of his later works were banned because of their satirical treatment of the Russian Orthodox Church and its functionaries. In his last years Leskov suffered from angina pectoris and asthma. He died on 5 March 1895. He was interred in the Volkovo Cemetery in Saint Petersburg, in the section reserved for literary figures.
Pecorone viene chiamato il protagonista dell’omonimo racconto di Nikolaj Leskov pubblicato nel 1863, ma è solo il soprannome che è stato affibbiato a Vasilij Petrovic a causa di una malformazione del suo cranio che lo rende simile nell’aspetto a un ariete: egli è figlio di un sacrestano e, rimasto presto orfano, viene avviato al seminario perché diventi un buon prete e sia di sostentamento all’anziana madre; ma il giovane si dimostra ben presto inadatto a indossare la tonaca, affetto da un male oscuro, da una smania indefinita, da una ribellione sotterranea verso tutto e tutti che gli impediscono di fare scelte di vita definitive.
Il protagonista narratore, dopo averlo conosciuto e aver coltivato la sua amicizia si impegna in ogni modo a favorire una qualche sistemazione lavorativa che sia di gradimento all’amico ma i fatti dimostreranno nel tempo l’impossibilità per il Pecorone di vivere una vita “normale”, ossessionato com’è da indefinite e poco chiare idee sovversive e rivoluzionarie che peraltro giungono astratte e incomprensibili alle orecchie di coloro che si provano ad ascoltarlo, idee che finiscono per emarginarlo dal conclave umano fino alla sua decisione di andarsene.
Espressione eccellente della letteratura russa dell’ottocento, scritto in maniera superba, mai tedioso, ricco di passaggi poetici e descrittivi superlativi, “Il Pecorone” è un racconto in cui il dramma di fondo viene diluito sapientemente per tutto l’arco della vicenda fino all’inatteso ma prevedibile finale.
I don't know what got me thinking about this book and wanting to read it again. I haven't looked at it in years, but for a long time it sat in my car (it may still be there) and I would pick it up and read it when I was out and about with time on my hands. I really loved "Musk Ox" (read it a few times, always finding different things in it, and always feeling a little lost in its pages, but in a nice way) and "Lady Macbeth of Mtensk." (Possibly one of the best titles ever.) Just found this cool article about Leskov. http://www.theguardian.com/books/book.... Makes me think of another not very well known Russian journalist and fiction writer Vladimir Korolenko.
In the novella “Musk Ox,” the musk ox in question is not an animal. It’s the nickname for a person, the sort-of protagonist (actually, this is a first-person narration from another character but Musk Ox seems to be the dominant concern, whether he’s “on stage” or off in the wings being talked about (obsessed about) by other characters. It really is an oddball story, with so many characters talking about Musk Ox (and even Musk Ox talking about his own past behavior) and not that much of us actually seeing Musk Ox doing or saying things. The extreme imbalance between telling versus showing makes it hard for me to go higher than four stars here.
But once you come to terms with the narration and accept it for what it is, the Musk Ox character really is quite intriguing. It’s hard to really put a label on him. Is he a pre-revolution revolutionary (a spiritual ancestor of the later Bolsheviks)? Is he a paranoid? Is he an ornery sought who will dissent from anything just for the sake of dissenting? Is he one who uses dissent as a “defense mechanism” to deflect attention from his own chronic ineptitude? Is he a pre-psychiatry chronically depressed person? You can argue for any of these possibilities, or combinations, or others of similar import. More intriguingly, how many Musk Ox types have you encountered in your own life?
"Musk-Ox" (this novel is too obscure to have an English title on Goodreads) is another gloomy little character study in the same vein as Lady Macbeth of Mtensk. Except this time, the protagonist (nicknamed "Musk-Ox" for his shaggy, unkempt demeanour) isn't an evildoer, he's just a nothing-doer, a human dead end. The only thing he does is hold some eccentric religious ideas, but nobody else understands these ideas. He fails to communicate these ideas, and more generally, he fails at relating to people at all. There are people who care about him, such as the narrator of the story, but as the narrator puts it, nobody loves him, and indeed nobody could love him. So, after some pages of nothing much happening, just a lot of Musk-Ox bloviating incomprehensibly about his ideas and being awkward around people, he hangs himself, and that's that. Ah, that's Russian literature for you.
I guess Musk-Ox is a reasonably interesting character, but this novella did drag on a bit, and I was unable to read it all in one go (had to take a couple of months' break in between). There just isn't much drama in this story to keep you reading, unlike Lady Macbeth of Mtensk with its murder plots.
Кто они — герои повестей и рассказов Николая Лескова? Почему в их действиях и мыслях не видишь обыденного поведения человека? Каждый из них словно не от мира сего. Им бы быть вдали от всех. К числу оных стоит отнести и одного из ранних персонажей Лескова — Овцебыка. Читатель, не знакомый с творчеством Николая, может принять представленного им героя, как частный случай мизантропа. Отличный от окружающих, выделяющийся всем — от внешности до поступков, Овцебык смел мечтать о чём-то своём, чего нигде не мог найти. Потому он разочаровался и поступил в итоге так, как только мог поступить человек, осознавший бесполезность бытия.
I came to find out Goodreads doesn't have Nikolai Leskov's The Clothes-mender. Which is why I am here, to review, as this collection has the story in the 'other tales' it mentioned.
The Clothes-mender is a one-sit read, captivating and divulging how a man's surname and their title of work contained their prestige in times past.
"So Konych remained a Frenchman for the good of the inhabitants of his back alley, while his proud namesake rotted away uselessly under an assumed name at Pére Lachaise."
A man had to go to the point to recast the name of a man, as they share the same name but not the social mobility.