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Oblomov

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A stage version of Ivan Goncharov's dark comedy about the ultimate Russian couch potato.

90 pages, Paperback

First published January 27, 2010

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About the author

Stephen Wyatt

56 books6 followers
Stephen Wyatt was educated at Latymer Upper School and then Clare College, Cambridge. After a brief spell as Lecturer in Drama at Glasgow University, he began his career as a freelance playwright in 1975 as writer/researcher with the Belgrade Theatre Coventry in Education team.

His subsequent young people's theatre work includes The Magic Cabbage (Unicorn 1978), Monster (York Theatre Royal 1979) and The Witch of Wapping (Half Moon 1980).

In 1982 and 1983 he was Resident Writer with the Bubble Theatre for whom he wrote Glitterballs and The Rogue's Progress.

Other theatre work includes After Shave (Apollo Theatre 1978), R.I.P Maria Callas (Edinburgh Festival / Hen and Chickens 1992), A working woman (from Zola's L'Assommoir) (West Yorkshire Playhouse 1992) and The Standard Bearer (Man in the Moon 2001). He also collaborated with Jeff Clarke on The Burglar's Opera for Opera della Luna (2004) "stolen from an idea by W. S. Gilbert with music nicked from Sir Arthur Sullivan".

His first work for television was Claws, filmed by the BBC in 1987, starring Simon Jones and Brenda Blethyn. Wyatt then went on to write two scripts for the science fiction series Doctor Who — these were Paradise Towers and The Greatest Show in the Galaxy. Both of those serials featured Sylvester McCoy as the Seventh Doctor. His other television credits include scripts for The House of Eliott and Casualty.

He has worked for BBC Radio since 1985 as both an adapter and an original playwright.

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Profile Image for Selkie.
289 reviews6 followers
April 3, 2015
This is one of my most favourite books, but as in most cases of the Everyman's Library, I do not like this translation.
Otherwise it a masterpiece of Russian literature that too often is overlooked.
One of the most poignant scenes is when tears gently slide down his cheek as his companion is playing the piano. When asked if the music moves him so, he replies "It is not the music...it is love!", then making a quick retreat from the room. That scene is a metaphor for what Oblomov had done most of his life: run away from it.
One can take this as a sad tale of someone wasting their life, or one can take it as a man taking pleasures in the simple things in life. Either way, it is an excellent book
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