Yama by Aleksandr Kuprin (best ereader for pdf TXT) š
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Yama (The Pit) recounts the lives of a group of prostitutes living and working in Anna Markovnaās brothel in the town of Kāøŗ. The women, subject to effective slavery through the removal of their papers and onerous debts, act out a scene of easy affability every evening for the part ignorant, part monstrous clients, while keeping secret their own pasts and wished-for futures.
The book was Kuprinās attempt to denormalize the cultural ambiguity of the legal brothels of the time. His dedicationāāto mothers and youthsāāexpresses his desire that there should no longer be a silent acceptance of the actions of the āfathers, husbands, and brothers.ā The novel was notable for portraying the inhabitants of the brothels as living, breathing people with their own hopes and desires, not purely as a plot point or scenario.
The critical response was mixed: many found the subject matter beyond the pale. Kuprin himself placed his hopes on a favourable review from Leo Tolstoy, which didnāt come; but there was praise for Yama as both social commentary and warning, and an appreciation for Kuprinās attempt to detail the everyday lives of his subjects.
The novel had a troubled genesis, with the first part taking nine years between initial proposal and first publication; the second and third parts followed five years later. It was a victim of the Russian censors who, tellingly, disapproved more of scenes involving officials visiting the brothels, than the brothels themselves. It was only later during preparations for an anthology of his work that an uncensored version was allowed to be released. This edition is based on the translation to English by Bernard Guilbert Guerney of that uncensored version, and was first published in 1922.
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- Author: Aleksandr Kuprin
Read book online Ā«Yama by Aleksandr Kuprin (best ereader for pdf TXT) šĀ». Author - Aleksandr Kuprin
By Aleksandr Kuprin.
Translated by Bernard Guilbert Guerney.
Table of Contents Titlepage Imprint Epigraph Authorās Dedication Translatorās Dedication Introduction Translatorās Note Yama Part I I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII Part II I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII Part III I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX Authorās Postscript Endnotes List of Illustrations Colophon Uncopyright ImprintThis ebook is the product of many hours of hard work by volunteers for Standard Ebooks, and builds on the hard work of other literature lovers made possible by the public domain.
This particular ebook is based on a transcription produced for Project Gutenberg and on digital scans available at the Internet Archive.
The writing and artwork within are believed to be in the U.S. public domain, and Standard Ebooks releases this ebook edition under the terms in the CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication. For full license information, see the Uncopyright at the end of this ebook.
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āAll the horror is in just this, that there is no horrorā āā ā¦ā
Authorās DedicationI know that many will find this novel immoral and indecent; nevertheless, I dedicate it with all my heart to mothers and youths
A. K.
Translatorās DedicationI dedicate the labour of translation, in all humility and sincerity, to K. Andrae
B. G. G.
IntroductionāWith us, you see,ā Kuprin makes the reporter Platonov, his mouthpiece, say in Yama, āthey write about detectives, about lawyers, about inspectors of the revenue, about pedagogues, about attorneys, about the police, about officers, about sensual ladies, about engineers, about baritonesā āand really, by God, altogether wellā ācleverly, with finesse and talent. But, after all, all these people are rubbish, and their life is not life, but some sort of conjured up, spectral, unnecessary delirium of world culture. But there are two singular realitiesā āancient as humanity itself: the prostitute and the muzhik. And about them we know nothing, save some tinsel, gingerbread, debauched depictions in literatureā āā ā¦ā
Tinsel, gingerbread, debauched depictionsā āā ā¦ Let us consider some of the ways in which this monstrous reality has been approached by various writers. There is, first, the purely sentimental: Prevostās Manon Lescaut. Then there is the slobberingly sentimental: Dumasā Dame aux CamĆ©lias. A third is the necrophilically romantic: Louysā Aphrodite. The fertile Balzac has given us no less than two: the purely romantic, in his fascinating portraits of the Fair Imperia; and the romantically realistic, in his Splendeurs et MisĆØres des Courtisanes. Readeās Peg Woffington may be called the literary parallel of the costume drama; Defoeās Moll Flanders is honestly realistic; Zolaās Nana is rabidly so.
There is one singular fact that must be noted in connection with the vast majority of such depictions. Punk or bona roba, lorette or drabā āput her before an artist in letters, and, lo and behold ye! such is the strange allure emanating from the hussy, that the resultant portrait is either that of a martyred Magdalene, or, at the very least, has all the enigmatic piquancy of a Mona Lisaā āā ā¦ Not a slut, but what is a hetaera; and not a hetaera, but what is well-nigh Kypris herself! I know of but one depiction in all literature that possesses the splendour of implacable veracity as well as undiminished artistry; where the portrait is that of a prostitute, despite all her tirings and trappings; a depiction truly deserving to be designated a portrait: the portrait supreme of the harlot eternalā āShakespeareās Cleopatra.
Furthermore, it will be observed that such depictions, for the most part, are primarily portraits of prostitutes, and not pictures of prostitution. It is also a singular fact that war, another scourge, has met with similar treatment. We have the pretty, spotless grenadiers and cuirassiers of Meissonier in plenty; Vereshchagin is still alone in the grim starkness of his windswept, snow-covered battlefields, with black crows wheeling over the crumpled masses of grayā āā ā¦
And, curiously enough, it is another great Russian, Kuprin, who is supremeā āif not uniqueā āas a painter of the universal scourge of prostitution, per se; and not as an incidental background for portraits. True, he may not have entirely escaped the strange allure, aforementioned, of the femininity he paints; for femininityā āeven though fallen, corrupt, abasedā āis still femininity, one of the miracles of life, to Kuprin, the lover of life. But, even if he may be said to have used too much of the oil of sentimentality in mixing his colours for the portraits, his portraits are subordinate to the background; and there his eye is true and keen, his hand steady and unflinching, his colours and brushwork unimpeachable. Whether, like his own Platonovā āwho may be called to some extent an autobiographical figure, and many of whose experiences are Kuprinās ownā āācame upon the brothelā and gathered his material unconsciously, āwithout any ulterior thoughts of writing,ā we do not know, nor need we rummage in his dirty linen, as he puts it. Suffice it to say hereā āto cite but two instancesā āthat almost anyone acquainted with Russia will tell you the full name of the rich, gay, southern port city of Kā āøŗ; that any Odessite will tell you that Treppelās is merely transplanted, for fictional reasons, from
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