Re: Russian Stories - Pdf
Donnell Simon
Currently we have with Tatyana650946 already a great translator for the Russian stories. But more translators also would allow to check stories for typos and allow to use to translate more stories. So tell us when you want to contribute.
Hi all, as Duolingo will unfortunately soon shut down the Forums, we have to move on to another platform. As we were already using a Discord Server for Story Contributors, we thought it might be the easiest to invite you to join us there.
My mother took my sister and me to my grandmother's house in Volnovakha, a small town located 50 kilometres from Donetsk. It was previously under Ukrainian control, but the Russians captured and destroyed it following the outbreak of the full-scale invasion.
Back in 2014, we had no idea what it meant to be under occupation. My mother left us with my grandmother and returned to Donetsk. I felt bad about being away from home, so I called her every day and begged her to return us home. Eventually, Mum made the difficult decision to bring us back to Donetsk. On our first day, the shelling began, and for the first time, I spent the entire night in the basement.
"You are Ukrainian," is the truth I've always known. That's what I was taught in school, and that's what my mother and grandmother said. I had no doubts about it. But there, in occupied Donetsk, a new reality struck me.
At my school, all portraits of Ukrainian poets and writers have been removed. The teachers, who had previously sung the Ukrainian national anthem with their hands over their hearts, instructed me that our new homeland was Russia. The Ukrainian language has almost disappeared. One Ukrainian lesson per week was formally scheduled, but how it was delivered is difficult to call educational.
We relocated to a village near Donetsk shortly after. Life became even more difficult for me there. It was dangerous to go outside because armed separatist soldiers were constantly roaming around. These were ordinary residents from dysfunctional families, alcoholics, drug addicts, or people who couldn't find another job.
Looking back now, I can't help but notice the distinction between a Ukrainian defender and a so-called DPR (Donetsk People's Republic) soldier. While the former inspires trust and gratitude, the latter instils fear in everyone, including the most ardent supporters. Everyone understood that a normal person would not fight for the so-called DPR.
At the age of 11, I endured my share of bullying. My pro-Ukrainian family acted cautiously, and no one at my school knew for certain. However, it was possible to guess. I was fluent in Ukrainian and the only one who prepared for the infrequent Ukrainian classes (which were later completely cancelled). Teachers did not respond to the complaints. They seemed to believe that the bullying, which was caused by my pro-Ukrainian stance, was entirely justified.
An interesting observation was that the majority of the pro-Russian teachers were Ukrainian language teachers. This created cognitive dissonance in my childhood mind, because how could someone who had read Lesya Ukrainka and Taras Shevchenko say that Ukraine was bad?
Over time, the situation worsened. Although the constant shelling had stopped and there were fewer armed soldiers on the streets, the locals had become increasingly brainwashed by Russian propaganda.
I couldn't avoid participating, so I spent most of the holidays "sick at home." My parents warned me, "Don't say anything to anyone, because your family will be shot dead," which I kept in mind until moving to Ukraine-controlled territory in 2021.
But even before I left for Kyiv, I was able to find like-minded people in Donetsk. It was a huge relief to find people with pro-Ukrainian positions. We were trying to stay silent because it was too dangerous to share our views. My father was repeatedly targeted because of rumours about our political affiliation. Once, he was "taken to the pit". That was what we called the torture chambers, where so-called DPR soldiers abused (tortured) those who disagreed, often killing them.
Youthful maximalism made it impossible for me to sit quietly. I attempted to discover myself by trying out various hobbies and activities. So, at the age of 15, I joined a charitable foundation and organised visits to one of the classrooms at a Donetsk orphanage. During each visit, I saw heartbreaking images and heard terrible stories about abandoned children. Nevertheless, I'd like to share with you one of the stories that I'll never forget.
I realised that the teacher who cared about the children outside of school had a pro-Ukrainian bias. One of the boys, Mykola, 10, drew a tank with a Ukrainian flag. I asked him why he did it. Mykola replied, "Because my teacher said I was Ukrainian. And I love Ukraine.
Mykola and all of the children I cared for were deported to Russia today. I never had a chance to say goodbye to them. I have no idea how they are or what their fate is. These children were able to spend their entire lives under occupation while maintaining their love for Ukraine, but now they are in the clutches of the aggressor. And I doubt we'll be able to bring them back.
I moved to Kyiv in 2021. In 2022, the full-scale war erupted. Since 2014, I've only had one year free of the daily reality of war. I didn't see curfews or checkpoints, nor did I feel constant fear. Despite the fact that our lives are constantly in danger and our country is going through a difficult period, I am grateful that I am now free to speak Ukrainian and proudly say that I am Ukrainian.
For me, Russian language has been a key to answering many questions about the relationship between Russian and Soviet societies and their domestic and foreign policies. Aside from always having a Russian gymnastics coach and ballet teachers, I became especially motivated to learn Russian after participating in a Russian ballet summer intensive in 2009. While we found ways to communicate, I always wanted to be able to understand and speak their language to discover what to me were secrets of their culture and outlook.
This is a program in which Moscow State Academy of Choreography (also known as the Bolshoi Ballet Academy) teachers and some dancers come to the U.S. to teach American students. A few of the teachers and many of the students did not speak English fluently.
Understanding the language has allowed me to make Russian friends and learn the various political opinions by listening to Russian political debate and interview television programs. I am able to hear viewpoints similar to some in the U.S. as well as some sides of international stories that are never heard in this country. I learned there are some in Russia who understand U.S. domestic issues and some who do not.
The book passes through many rooms, and each has its deep interest. It is that unusual thing, a classic that is not pitched right down the middle. It is quirky. Coming early in the development of the short story form, it has the raw originality of youth, is bright and morning.
The Notebook comprises his first truly successful work. When in 1852, at the age of 34, he issued the first edition, with most of the canonical stories that are included in the present volume, he had published a few slight pieces, nothing to suggest the brilliance to come. The Notebook has the quality of work done for himself, for love, unrestrained. Not bothering about plot too much, he drew portraits of these men and women from the estate, took up stories that he had heard or seen enacted.
The characteristic that distinguishes stories about life from life itself is that life has no plot, no meaningful plot. In most cases, as we have come to understand the short story form, plot is imposed upon human interactions by the writer. One great charm of these stories is that they are so unplotted, some of them held together only by the framing device of the narrator going out hunting and encountering some man or woman or situation. More than others, Turgenev can say, in his modest offhand voice, I made it out of a mouthful of air.
This constituency found it difficult to reconcile itself to the loss of their revenues and powers flowing from this emancipation in part because they knew very little about their serfs, had never paid much attention to them. They commanded obedience with banishments and the knout, and otherwise indulged themselves with serf orchestras on their estates and desperate feats of gambling and spoke French among themselves. If they gave it any thought, they would have considered it an impertinence for their serfs to have private lives.
The Notebook has some particular excellencies, which I would point out to you, gentle reader, as would a host at a banquet drawing out with fork and knife a delicacy on the served platter. Turgenev is masterful in these stories of two particularly difficult arts, sketches of characters, men and women in all their complexity, and descriptions of nature. The stories are juxtapositions of these two excellencies.
Landscape is the refuge of the wounded spirit, and one senses behind his romantic and passionate descriptions of the Russian steppe the sad uncertainty that he felt regarding his place among men and women. The generous descriptions of men and women at Spasskoye are drawn with all the love of the hungry-hearted boy; the descriptions of nature are written from the perspective of the rootless man.
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