A NOTE FROM THE TRANSLATOR

As Mihail Chemiakin’s wife and collaborator I worked closely with him on the original Russian of this book: I typed his longhand manuscript as he wrote it, printing it out for him to review, entering his changes and corrections and reprinting portions of the book, over and over again, until he was satisfied with his text, then putting the portions together in the order he chose.  Throughout the process I resisted all temptation to comment, suggest or revise. There is not a single word in the original Russian that comes from me or anyone but the author.

For forty years I have served as Mihail‘s English- (and French-) language voice for our non-Russian-speaking friends, collectors, and associates, both in conversation and in writing.  Thus, when I showed portions of the translation in progress to some of those friends and asked if it read like Misha’s voice, it dawned on me that they in fact know his voice in my interpretation, so of course this new translation would sound right to them. Nonetheless, I have tried to be as faithful to the tone and tempo of the original text despite those inherent differences between Russian and English syntax that compelled to me here and there to change verb forms, and often to rearrange clauses within a sentence.  I hope - I would like to think - that I have not by so doing homogenized or compromised the beauty of the original Russian.

The eighteenth-century woman of letters Mme. de Stael famously compared literary translation to playing music written for one instrument on another. Chemiakin’s original Russian text is written for the organ: it is deep, complex, harmonious, and uplifting, and carries the reader to great heights of emotion and even epiphany. This English translation is played on the piano: at the very least, the melody is faithfully reproduced, and with any luck the reader will hear some chords and pedal work resounding from the original.

Sarah H. de Kay