The gods are a dull tread

The issue ends the publication of the essay of Yana Simon “After all, we are different” (translation from German N. Fedorova) - the best, for my taste , material over the past six months in the magazine. The story of the German “cracker”, “courier” and “brother” of Felix S. is ending: on pajamas pants in the cell. Simon herself, they say, will be in Moscow in early September (through the mediation of the Goethe Center ), so that questions on the text can be asked directly to the author in a personal meeting. Inquiries - all in the same center.

The “meat” number is Graham Swift’s Roman “Light of the Day” , which does not even save the translation of Leonid Motylev. The British version of the exhausted and exhausted essay from the author of the "latest orders". Worse, only the "Amsterdam" of Mcueen . Hurry to see.

The hero is a retired cop, a private detective. He fulfills small, but fateful instructions: to stand his wife (husband) with a lover (mistress), to record what he saw. The line of life of the wards often depends on the results of the investigation, but by no means so as to sculpt from this detective intrigue.

He does not sculpt.

The hero’s task is to make sure that the mistress flew forever and that the husband is not lying, that “there” is all over. ” It turns out that nothing is over, and when the young lady from Croatia flies far, far away, the wife reads through the eyes of the wrong husband that her husband is only physically, and the soul there, behind the clouds.

And cracks him on the head with a frying pan.

In this whole story, the main character, an unclean retired cop and what a few culinary culinary, plays a rather strange role in a spying role, as a result of which I don’t know how it falls in love with the killer, then an ordinary language teacher.

And having fallen in love with the ears, he waits for her to go to the "light of the day."

Although her term seems to be lifelong.

The novel is written by jerky phrases, which, apparently, are designed to imitate the brutal speech of a police bloodhound. Since speech is in the book in the first person. However, the course of thoughts of this guy is completely intelligent, which, as you know, does not correspond to syntax.

And this is understandable - thoughts are copyrighted!

Next. The whole novel is built on races in time, that is, the author constantly looks into the future, hinting to the reader that there, ahead, is the most interesting. In a similar way, "recent orders" were built, which in a filmed form looked very good with such installation.

But the denouement in the "light of the day" is no, so it is clear why Swift made meaningful hints, promising a fantastic finale. He did this with one mercantile goal: for the reader to get to the final.

Having reached, the reader spits out of annoyance on the floor, but the goal was achieved - the book is read (rather, the prolistan), which means everything is in order.

The only joy in the novel is small strokes of the household London life that will warm the soul to every Angloman. And so - an empty lesson.

But this time is extremely strong this time the section "deep into the poem", which presented the famous poem by Kawafis "Waiting for the barbarians." For the deaf pore of the late August, the best reading. Especially on the eve of the invasion of September.

Everything is clear with the translations - it is worse there, it’s better here, but you can’t conceal the greatness of the original in a bag, since the poem is “semantic”, which means that during translation it is “lost” not very catastrophically.

Another thing is a preface. Be sure to read Irina Kovaleva, an intelligible and sensitive introductory article, which gives valuable instructions for reading the text. The poem, as you recall, is written in the form of a dialogue, "questioning-reflections." So, it turns out that the questions and answers in the text are composed by Kawaphis in different sizes: 15-complicated and 12-slopes.

Which was not always taken into account in Russian translations.

The 15-slice in post-anti -ant poetry replaced the hexameter and is associated for the new Greek primarily with the “crying of the fall of Constantinople”, therefore it is reasonable to say that it is about the hem of the Kawafis about sunset, and not about the invasion of the Huns or Westgotes. And psychologically, the situation of "expectations", "inaction", "hopes", "disappointment", "voids", "hearing loss of the gods" are characteristic of the more kings of Constantinople than the emperors of Rome. These are the qualities of the Byzantine, “late”.

In terms of poetry, the magazine is also on top and publishes the pretty verses of the Frenchman ("French", "Poems" - a rarity!) Jean -Claude Penson in the translations of Alexander Davydov. Here is a rare case when genuine poems are born from a dull life on a campus. Even despite the elaborate metaphors:

When insomnia grinds the brain
working as a troublesome millstone
I fight with her combining
Girlands of words in the Alexandrian rhythm
so that this verse is baying me
clicking on his chest with a nurse

Then I strive for my face
imagine a sign for a sign -

eastern path of acquiring emptiness

so lulling yourself usually
Waking up I see decrepit Alexander
wandering on three supports
but if his stick is young, jazz rhythms are tapping
Perhaps this is better than portraying
The gods are a dull tread