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[Florestan]

oseph Conrad, in contrast, was virtually unknown, even despite the fact that he was born in the Russian Empire and first saw the sea in Odessa.

Joseph Conrad was published in Romanian translation in the 1960s: Lord Jim, Heart of Darkness, Nostromo. He's one of my favorite writers, a truly unique style and a sumptuous use of English, despite him being Polish.

[AnotherSpin]

Joseph Conrad was published in Romanian translation in the 1960s: Lord Jim, Heart of Darkness, Nostromo. He's one of my favorite writers, a truly unique style and a sumptuous use of English, despite him being Polish.

Conrad was translated and published in Russian almost during his lifetime, but his popularity in Soviet times is not comparable to the popularity of Mark Twain, who was published in millions of copies, filmed screenings, etc.

[Florestan]

Conrad was translated and published in Russian almost during his lifetime, but his popularity in Soviet times is not comparable to the popularity of Mark Twain, who was published in millions of copies, filmed screenings, etc.

Which only proves that Twain was much more palatable to the Soviet censorship than Conrad. 

[AnotherSpin]

Which only proves that Twain was much more palatable to the Soviet censorship than Conrad. 

You bet. A pauper taking the place of the prince as the realization of the Bolshevik hope.

[Florestan]

You bet. A pauper taking the place of the prince as the realization of the Bolshevik hope.

 

[vers la flamme]

With the James talk here recently I decided to pick up The Turn of the Screw. I have no idea how representative of his work this book is, probably not very, but I am enjoying it greatly, even though I have to read each sentence at least three times to understand what the hell the narrator is trying to say. Very, very eerie atmosphere, and definitely picking up on the strangeness that Borges referred to. I now want to read The Portrait of a Lady which I seem to recall is supposed to be from an earlier period before he adapted certain bizarre mannerisms of prose style which can be found in this later novella. The idea of reading one of his lengthier late period novels seems right now extremely daunting with how slow going even this short book is.

Edit: Thanks to Mandryka for recently re-sparking my interest in this author I've long been very curious about. Also today is the author's birthday, an interesting coincidence I discovered after buying the book.