Narr Francke Attempto Periodicals

Farris, June Pachuta

Slovene

Current Bibliography 2010

Kultur als Kommunikationsraum – am Beispiel Zentraleuropa

Csáky, Moritz

German

Kultur als Kommunikationsraum – am Beispiel Zentraleuropas

Földes, Csaba

Németh, Attila

 Csaba Földes/Attila Németh (Veszprém) 
 
Vorwort der Herausgeber 
 
 
 
 
 
Die Geburt einer neuen Fachzeitschrift ist immer ein bedeutsames Ereignis, voll 
von Chancen und Erwartungen, aber auch von Herausforderungen. Im vorlie-
genden Fall haben sich Herausgeber und Verlag von der Hoffnung leiten lassen, 
ein Fachorgan konzipiert zu haben, das die Palette der bisherigen germanisti-
schen Zeitschriften mit seiner klaren Schwerpunktsetzung auf aktuelle Themen 
eines lebendigen Fachgebietes innovativ ergänzen wird.  
 Die Zeitschrift für Mitteleuropäische Germanistik (ZMG) soll auf mitteleuro-
päische kulturelle Konstellationen fokussieren und sich vor allem auf Transfer-, 
Interaktions- und Integrationsprozesse mit den Schwerpunkten deutsche Spra-
che, Literatur(en) und Kultur(en) konzentrieren. Dementsprechend sollten die 
Beiträge den mitteleuropäischen Bezug des gewählten Themas verdeutlichen. 
 Die ZMG erscheint jährlich zwei Mal und wird in enger Kooperation mit 
dem Mitteleuropäischen Germanistenverband (MGV) herausgegeben. Sie ver-
steht sich als international offenes Forum in erster Linie für thematisch relevante 
Beiträge aus dem Gesamtbereich ‚Mitteleuropäische Germanistik‘. 
 Wir veröffentlichen einschlägige Aufsätze, Diskussionsbeiträge, Rezensionen 
und Tagungsberichte. Die Zeitschrift nimmt ausschließlich Erstveröffentli-
chungen auf, die zugleich frei von Rechten Dritter sein müssen. Alle einge-
sandten Manuskripte werden von einem internationalen Gutachtergremium 
„doppelblind“ begutachtet. Manuskripte und Rezensionsexemplare werden an 
die Herausgeber erbeten. Wir freuen uns auf Manuskripte mitteleuropäischer 
und nicht-mitteleuropäischer Germanist(inn)en gleichermaßen und setzen uns 
u.a. zum Ziel, den internationalen Fachdialog weiter fördern und das spezifisch 
Mitteleuropäische in der Germanistik sowohl im Hinblick auf Gegenstände als 
auch auf Inhalte und Methoden gezielt ausleuchten zu können.  
 Wir hoffen, dass die ZMG eine freundliche Aufnahme findet und aufgrund 
ihrer inhaltlichen Akzente und hohen Qualitätsstandards bald zu den etablierten 
internationalen Fachzeitschriften der wahrlich mitteleuropäischen Disziplin 
‚Germanistik‘ gehören wird.  
 
Veszprém, im Mai 2011 
 
Die Herausgeber  


Vorwort der Herausgeber

Two Techniques of Hostile Criticism: Tolstoy's and Dostoevsky's

Belknap, Robert L.

Dostoevsky Studies, New Series, Vol. XV (2011) pp. 13-15
R ob ert L. B elknap  
Columbia University
Two Techniques of Hostile Criticism, 
Tolstoy’s and Dostoevsky’s?
Tolstoy and Dostoevsky wrote some of their finest prose while doing 
demolition jobs on writings that others honored. Tolstoy’s distaste for 
Shakespeare is famous. It rests partly on his distrust for lyricism and for 
secularism, and partly, I think, on sheer perversity. It was a good way to 
shock the philistines. It also called forth a quality in Tolstoy that needs 
more attention, his humor. Today I will work with a passage from his 
1904 essay “On Shakespeare and the Drama,” using his analysis of the 
storm scene in King Lear, a play which is not usually treated as a barrel of 
laughs. Dostoevsky also enjoyed attacking the idolized. I will compare 
the Tolstoy passage with one of Dostoevsky’s many assaults on the idols 
of Chemyshevsky and the radicals of his day, the Utilitarians. The 
Dostoevsky passage begins Chapter VII of Part One of the Notes from  
Underground.
The Tolstoy passage adopts the voice of an earnest, caring reader. 
“Lear walks through the heath and says words which must express his 
despair: he wishes the winds to blow until their (the winds’) cheeks burst, 
the rains to flood everything, the lightning to set fire to his grey head, and 
the thunder to flatten the earth and wipe out all the seeds that make 
ungrateful man.”
The contrast between this passage and Shakespeare’s is one of the 
glories of world literature, a master of the novel ridiculing the highest 
reaches of a master of drama:
Blow, winds and crack your cheeks! rage, blow!
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drench’d our steeples, drown’d the cocks!
Y ou sulph’rous and thought-executing fires,
Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
14 Robert L. Belknap
Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
Strike flat the thick rotundity o’ th’ world!
Crack nature’s molds, all germens spill at once,
That makes ingrateful man! (Act III, sc. Π)
Tolstoy’s humor resides in the contrast between the speaker of his 
summary and King Lear. The earnest summarizer of Lear’s speech 
worries that his reader may not realize whose cheeks Lear wishes to burst, 
and may even not have noticed that winds don’t have cheeks, except 
perhaps in a kind of painting Tolstoy disliked. In thirty-seven words, 
Tolstoy has literalized Shakespeare’s fifty-nine words, but he preempts 
our sophisticated rejection of his simplicity with a single clause, “which 
must express his despair;” he too is doing literary analysis, exploring 
either Lear’s or Shakespeare’s intention. One may question this reading, 
calling the mood rage, not despair, but doing so engages Tolstoy’s earnest 
reader in a discussion between equals, and he is not our equal; Tolstoy 
has constructed a brilliantly stupid voice, and we ordinary mortals are 
neither that brilliant nor that stupid.
Dostoevsky’s demolition technique is almost the opposite. In this 
passage, his victim is a serious doctrine underlying much of Plato’s, John 
Stuart Mill’s, and Twentieth Century Economics’ understanding of the 
world. The doctrine of enlightened self-interest may be charmingly, 
brilliantly, or dismally presented, but the voice is normally as civilized as 
that of Tolstoy's earnest reader. Using accusatory anaphora, the 
Underground Man begins in a tone closer to Lear’s than to Tolstoy’s: 
“Oh, tell me, who first stated, who first pronounced that man does nasty 
things only because he does not know his own interests” He then moves a 
little closer to the earnest voice that elaborates an argument: “and that if 
he could be enlightened, his eyes opened to his real, normal interests, then 
man would immediately stop doing nasty things and would immediately 
become kind and noble” Except for slipping from exclamatory to 
expository prose, these two lines make no new point at all. But the next 
step begins with the promise of serious argumentation: “because, having 
been enlightened and understanding their own real interest, man would 
immediately see in goodness his own personal interest” The promise 
contained in the word “because” has gone unfulfilled; the reason being 
enlightened and having our eyes opened to our real interests would make 
us kind and noble turns out to be that being enlightened and under­
standing our real interest would make us see in goodness our personal 
interest. But, undiscouraged, the Underground Man continues his
Two Techniques o f Hostile Criticism, Tolstoy’s and Dostoevsky's? 15
exposition of the reasoning he is summarizing: “and it is well known that 
not a single human can act knowingly against his own interest” Again, 
this repeats the statement that has already been made three times, first as 
an attack, second as an authoritative point and third, as an explanation. 
The conclusion of this fourfold repetition, marked with all formality by 
the word “consequently,” makes the same statement a fifth time: 
“consequently, so to speak, of necessity, he would start doing good?” 
The question mark reminds those of us who have forgotten (almost all), 
that we have just read a ninety-word interrogative sentence.
At our session I argued from these two passages that Tolstoy used the 
dullness of a literal reading to demolish Shakespeare’s depiction of rage, 
while Dostoevsky used the voice of an hysterical obsessive to make a 
community of reasonable philosophers and rationalistic journalists into 
dull reiterators of a circular argument. In the question period, Tetsuo 
Mochizuki pointed out that my point about Tolstoy had been made by 
Shklovsky three quarters of a century ago, in his analysis of ostraneniie, 
or defamiliarization. A look at the notes of Robin Feuer Miller and Ellen 
Chances, who saw these pages before the panel, suggests that both of 
them connected my earnest reader with that other good-hearted innocent, 
Natasha, who led Shklovsky to his theory of ostraneniie. Each author left 
his narrative signature on his criticism and his fiction.


English

Two Techniques of Hostile Criticism: Tolstoy's and Dostoevsky's?

Susanne Fusso: Discovering Sexuality in Dostoevsky. Evanston, Illinois:Northwestern University Press, 2006

Apollonio, Carol

22                                                                                                        Book Reviews  ◊  Rezensionen 
seiner schriftstellerischen Tätigkeit, bis zu seinem letzten großen Roman. 
Hervorzuheben sind neben den Brüdern Karamazov die Analysen der 
Romane Der Idiot und Böse Geister (= Die Dämonen). McReynolds sieht 
in der Auseinandersetzung des Autors mit den gegensätzlichen Positionen 
von Glauben und Unglauben letztlich eine Pattsituation: “Dostoevsky was 
still seeking answers when he died. His search seems to have led him to 
find some certainty in the construction of a clear opposition between the 
,Russian‘ and ,Jewish‘ ideas of his mature imagination; [...].” McRey-
nolds’ Studie steht in einem größeren Zusammenhang, der kurz skizziert 
werden soll. Der Aufschwung der orthodoxen Kirche nach dem Fall der 
Sowjetunion und die damit verbundene Re-Christianisierung hat auch in 
der Literaturwissenschaft in Russland Einzug gehalten. Professor Wolgin 
hat sich unlängst kritisch zu Dostojewskij-Interpreten geäußert, die er als 
„unsere neuesten Christen bezeichnet“. Man distanziert sich, wie etwa der 
Moskauer Professor Jesaulow, von einer „,besonderen‘ religiösen Philo-
logie“, die heute in Russland vor allem in orthodox und „patriotisch“ 
gesinnten Kreisen gepflegt wird. Dostojewskij wird aus dieser Perspek-
tive vor allem als orthodoxer Denker und Repräsentant der religiösen und 
imperialen Aspekte der „Russischen Idee“ gesehen. Besonders in der 
anglo-amerikanischen Slawistik hat in den letzten Jahrzehnten die reli-
giöse Lesart der Werke Dostojewskijs viele Anhänger gefunden, die auf 
unterschiedliche Weise Dostojewskij als einen Autor verstehen, der 
orthodoxe religiöse Werte seinen Romanen zugrunde gelegt hat. McRey-
nolds’ Buch setzt diesen „neuesten Christen“ in westlichen Dostojewskij-
Studien eine originelle, exzellent argumentierte und belegte Studie ent-
gegen, welche die Perspektive wieder zurecht rückt! 
 
Rudolf Neuhäuser                                Alpen-Adria Universität Klagenfurt 
 
 
Susanne Fusso: Discovering Sexuality in Dostoevsky. Evanston, Illinois: 
Northwestern University Press, 2006. 216 pp.  
 
Throughout his career, Dostoevsky demonstrated an abiding concern for 
the power and symbolic potential of human sexuality in all its mani-
festations. Susanne Fusso’s new book represents a significant, beautifully 
argued, and welcome contribution to the scholarship on the subject, but 
one that by no means exhausts the potential lines of investigation. 
The critic delineates a limited field of inquiry: Dostoevsky’s treat-
ment, in selected post-Siberia works, of sexual practices that were con-
Book Reviews  ◊  Rezensionen                                                                                   22 
sidered “deviant” in his own time, particularly as they affect children and 
adolescent youth. By limiting her extra-literary sources on sexuality to 
those available to Dostoevsky, Fusso easily dispenses with one obstacle, 
the formidable and distracting Freudian paradigm. Appropriately, she 
frames her study in the broader context of Dostoevsky’s moral universe. 
Beginning with his search for a suitable artistic language for dealing with 
this dangerous theme, she ends, as does the great writer in his last work, 
with a discussion of the family.  Her reader leaves with a new under-
standing not only of the importance of sexual practices in Dostoevsky’s 
works and of their function in his artistic system, but also of their 
relevance to more urgent matters. 
The subject is particularly suitable for an investigation of narrative 
technique, for, Fusso notes, as something normally tabooed it “requires 
careful decoding” (xiv). The critic begins by looking at Dostoevsky’s 
contribution to a polemic that unfolded in the Russian periodical press in 
1861. A jumble of voices have their say in this discussionMikhail 
Katkov, a provincial dignitary’s wife, Cleopatra, a gaggle of lesser-
known, but very opinionated, journalists, the great Pushkin, Dostoevsky 
himselfbut the key issue is the author’s defense of artistic freedom.  Ex-
amining a scene in The Insulted and Injuredpublished simultaneously 
with this debate, Fusso demonstrates the link between Dostoevsky’s 
theorizing and his practice as an artist. The sexual dangers lurking in 
Pushkin’s poem are associated textually with various “deviations” dealt 
with in Dostoevsky’s novel. These include pedophilia, exhibitionism, 
priapism, sadomasochism, and three-way sex. While it is easy for the 
reader to become distracted by the details, the critic’s point is important: 
narrative itself can serve as a form of exhibitionistic confession: “to tell 
about one’s sexual deviations is itself one of the deviations” (10). Also 
implicated is the “discourse of originality and invention” (11) necessary 
to create good fiction, which can stray too easily into the realm of sexual 
perversion. Fusso’s reader becomes uncomfortably aware of the potential 
commonalities among author, narrator, guardian, teacher, mentor, and 
sexual predator.  
In the following chapters, the critic delves into Dostoevsky’s 
treatment of various non-standard forms of sexuality: the “insulted female 
child”, homoerotic desire, and masturbation. Chapter 2 examines the 
ethical significance of narrative point of view in plots involving sexual 
predators and young girls.  Dostoevsky returned to the theme repeatedly, 
experimenting in different works with different narrative perspectives.  
Tragic plot lines build on dangerous secrets, “tainy”, which in Dosto-
22                                                                                                        Book Reviews  ◊  Rezensionen 
evsky’s world are associated with sexuality. Denial is opposed to the 
exhibitionism explored elsewhere. The first-person narrator of The 
Insulted and Injured does not acknowledge the obvious sexual tension in 
his experience with Nelli, for example. The third-person narrative struc-
ture of Crime and Punishment allows “greater frankness” (22), but 
pedophilia is displaced from the protagonist to sub-plots involving Svidri-
gailov.  Fusso argues that this represents a conscious strategy on Dosto-
evsky’s part. In Svidrigailov’s shocking dream of the lustful child the 
third person narration allows a more frank treatment: the child’s sexual 
provocation is “much more explicit than Nelli’s, and Svidrigailov’s horror 
is more responsible than Ivan’sin other words, more explicitly linked to 
his own sense of guilt.” (24). The Idiot represents a “step backward”: here 
the pedophilic plotTotskii’s seduction of the teenage Nastas’ia Fillip-
ovnais even more marginalized, and the predator experiences even less 
personal responsibility. Dostoevsky’s narrative treatments of pedophilia 
are schematically presented as: (1) no distance, no guilt (Insulted and 
Injured); (2) distance, guilt (Crime and Punishment); and (3) distance, no 
guilt (The Idiot).  In Stavrogin’s confession, Dostoevsky arrives at the 
most morally potent configuration: “no distance, guilt.” Fusso shows how 
Dostoevsky reprocessed selected material from The Insulted and Injured 
to heighten the message of moral condemnation in The Devils. The 
“guiltless and unaware” stance of the earlier narrator becomes Stavrogin’s 
“brutal honesty.” In his revisions of “At Tikhon’s” Dostoevsky softened 
the harsh details of Stavrogin’s crime in an attempt to placate his editor 
Katkov.  Fusso suggests that in making these changes Dostoevsky took “a 
rather large step backward”(39), but even the new version was insuffi-
ciently tame, and “At Tikhon’s” remained excluded from the novel. Fusso 
agrees with scholars such as Kariakin and Dolinin, who argue that 
Dostoevsky remained committed to the censored chapter, even though he 
was unable to restore it in a separate edition. Still, it was here that a guilty 
protagonist finally takes full responsibility for his misdeeds, and for 
whatever reason, pedophilia as a theme in Dostoevsky’s work is put to 
rest.  
In later works, Dostoevsky makes a conscious shift to the child’s 
point of view, focusing on cases where children face sexual challenges 
alone, without parental guidance.  Fusso first examines homoerotic desire 
in A Raw Youth, and then turns to the temptations of masturbation as 
presented in that novel and in The Brothers Karamazov. She makes a very 
strong case for the importance of homosexuality in A Raw Youth, 
presenting a wealth of fascinating evidence from external sources as well 
Book Reviews  ◊  Rezensionen                                                                                   22 
as from the text of the novel. Arkadii’s sexual questioning parallels his 
attempts to find a “nonstandard literary discourse” (54). The characters’ 
experiences with (male-male) homosexual desire in A Raw Youth reflect a 
shift on the metaliterary level from the conventional narrator-implied 
reader relationship to the one between narrator and implied author. The 
critic recommends that A Raw Youth be read as “a conversation with 
Dostoevsky’s earlier literary self […] Arkadii’s narrative can then be read 
as a parody of Dostoevsky’s own breathless narrative style.” This ap-
proach has the advantage of viewing A Raw Youth as a laboratory 
experiment clearing the way for the author’s “supreme achievement” in 
The Brothers Karamazov (66-7).  
Fusso then turns her attention to onanism, a concern in Dostoevsky’s 
last two novels that also figures in the January and February issues of The 
Diary of a Writer for 1876. The act itself is tabooed, veiled under layers 
of narration, but is betrayed by unmistakable textual clues. It is a 
“shameful habit”, a “filthy vice”, a “deficiency”, a “secret debauched 
vice”, etc. Fusso focuses on “case studies” of male virginsArkadii Dol-
gorukii and Alyosha Karamazovwhose chastity is under threat. One can 
be corrupted “through the ears” by filthy story telling, which stirs up 
dangerous fantasies that can lead to the secret vice. Fusso cites authorities 
on the subjectincluding Jean-Jacques Rousseau, making a belated 
appearance here, who argue that indulgence in the solitary sin is 
tantamount to loss of virginity. The two protagonists are suspended in a 
state of prolonged peril, but their red cheeks serve as an irrefutable 
testament to their triumphant innocence. Fusso reads Alyosha Kara-
mazov’s famous “fall to the earth” after the dream of Cana as a “spiritual 
consummation” that liberates him from temptation. For Dostoevsky, 
writes Fusso, masturbation is “the act of the individual who does not feel 
part of the socialthe dreamer, the outsider, the holy fool. Such an 
individual may succumb to his powerful fantasies and descend into 
hysterical madness, like Lise, or commit suicide [and murder, adds the 
reviewer], like Smerdiakov. Or, with the help of God, he may, like 
Alyosha, overcome the dangerous power of ‘daring and passionate 
daydreams,’ and end by mastering the self” (79). The argument is elegant 
and persuasive, though given Dostoevsky’s ongoing preoccupation with 
humanity’s inborn sinfulness, Fusso’s reader questions whether Alyosha’s 
epiphany has really inoculated him for life or whether those promised but 
never written sequels would have reopened the question.  
In Chapter Five, Fusso considers a non-fictional treatment of the 
theme, Dostoevsky’s well-known discussion of the Kroneberg (or 
22                                                                                                        Book Reviews  ◊  Rezensionen 
Kronenberg) case in the Diary of a Writer in the winter of 1876. She 
argues that it was the abused child’s onanistic tendencies that particularly 
attracted Dostoevsky’s attention. Interestingly enough, the child’s 
shameful vice, which in the thinking of the time represented a grave 
danger to her health and welfare, could have been viewed as justifying the 
intensity of the punishment. As in previous chapters, Fusso is particularly 
insightful when addressing questions of language. So, for example, when 
Dostoevsky accuses the defense lawyer Spasovich of “bludodeistvie 
talanta”, he associates the lawyer’s speeches on behalf of his guilty 
defendant with masturbation (An interesting side discussion leads back to 
the critic Belinsky’s use of the phrase over thirty years before).  Fusso 
points out that whereas Arkadii Dolgorukii and Alyosha Karamazov 
outgrew the masturbatory phase, the defense lawyer has apparently not 
done so.  
The sexual aberrations that have been Fusso’s focus in the bulk of her 
book lead to a discussion of a more general nature, in the last chapter, on 
Dostoevsky’s concern with the disintegration of the family. Indeed, the 
troubled children and adolescents in Dostoevsky’s fictional works all lack 
a stable family; the sexual dangers they face can be seen as a symptom of 
this greater social ailment. The miseries that the father’s absence causes 
for the abandoned childincluding their various sexual predicaments
are at the center of Dostoevsky’s novelistic plots. Fusso’s discussion of 
the family in this chapter, though insightful, leaves behind the theme of 
sexuality and narrative that had been her primary focus.  
The book concludes with a useful appendix: a translation of the 
newspaper account of the Kroneberg trial (Golos, January 24-29, 1876). 
The reader of The Brothers Karamazov will benefit from a close reading 
of this account, for its importance in Dostoevsky’s presentation of 
Dmitrii’s trial will be obvious. Opinions will differ as to the centrality of 
the question of sexuality in the Kroneberg case, however. Little Mariia 
Kroneberg did indulge in the solitary vice; there is no doubt about that, 
for her secret is exposed in the judicial process. More relevant to this 
particular reader, though, is the entire complex of the poor child’s sins
stealing, lying, and willfulness, as well as masturbation. Dostoevsky’s 
supreme concern was human sinfulness, all of it. For him the Kroneberg 
case served as a provocative illustration of the challenges facing the new 
institutions of justice as they took on the age-old struggle against human 
sin, guilt, and shame. Lawyers, doctors, and judges represent the new 
secular institutions and they have a responsibility to speak openly.  But 
can they solve the big questions? The narrative artist faces a slightly 
                                                                                   22 
different quandary: he strives to answer every possible question, but 
senses that certain things must remain unspoken. And these secret things 
may be what is most important. Dostoevsky is interested not simply in 
sexual deviancy, but in the moment in a child’s life when she faces 
temptation; what she does at that moment will determine her moral fate. 
Hence the fervor of fathers, judges, doctors, journalists, and novelists, and 
hence their powerlessness, for the decisionand the secretis ultimately 
the child’s.  
Thus Discovering Sexuality in Dostoevsky is about more than sex-
uality. If the last chapter and the appendix lead away from the issue at 
hand, that may be as it should be. At the same time, the reader craves 
more sex and less of everything else. Future studies of the subject will 
delve into areas not addressed in Fusso’s book: the pre-Siberia works; 
female-female homoerotic desire; the complex relationship between 
sexual desire and crime; and the huge subject of the “standard” form of 
sexuality. What is the function of male-female desire in Dostoevsky’s 
plotsin The Idiot, for example? On this subject, if pedophilia, homo-
sexuality, and masturbation represent deviations (though, as Fusso proves, 
Dostoevsky’s views on homosexuality are remarkably tolerant) and if 
marriage is not an immediate option, then what is a sexually frustrated 
person to do? The answer of the time was, of course, prostitution.  Wide-
spread and legal in Russia at the time, the practice was considered a 
hygienic alternative to the horrors of masturbation. Men, among them 
great writers, took full advantage of this outlet, and readers of Crime and 
Punishment should be grateful that Dostoevsky had thought long and hard 
about the subject.  
The Dostoevsky we meet in Fusso’s book is a person some readers 
may not be familiar with: reasonable, not prurient, undogmatic, concerned 
for the welfare of the family and society, flexible and sympathetic.  His 
books deal with dangerous themes, but he is always aware of the moral 
responsibility of the artist. Dostoevsky’s comments on Pushkin apply 
equally to himself: “Reality has been transformed, having passed through 
art, having passed through the fire of pure, chaste inspiration and through 
the poet’s artistic thought” (6).  
 
Carol Apollonio                 Duke University 
 
 
 
Dostoevsky Studies, New Series, Vol. XIII (2009)


Susanne Fusso: Discovering Sexuality in Dostoevsky. Evanston, Illinois: Northwestern University Press, 2006.

Miller, Robin Feuer

Dostoevsky Studies, New Series, Vol. XV (2011) pp. 7-11
R o b in  F e u e r  M i l l e r  
Brandeis University
The Roundtable Game: 
An Introduction
The roundtable panel on Tolstoy and Dostoevsky at the XIV International 
Dostoevsky Symposium in Napoli (June 13-20, 2010) evolved from 
something that I now affectionately think of as “the roundtable game.” 
The idea comes from our Society President, Deborah Martinsen, who in 
January 2010 suggested to Robert Belknap, Ellen Chances, William Mills 
Todd III and me that we write a “description by committee.” Thus was 
bom the roundtable game. In our case, at its earliest, most ungrammatical 
stage, it went like this:
Deborah: “In honor of the 100th anniversary of Tolstoy’s death, this IDS 
roundtable will explore...”
Robin: “Hmm. . . Successive generations of readers engage with 
Dostoevsky and Tolstoy as though there were some riddle about the two 
of them to be at last unraveled. Certainly the two were in a prolonged, 
indirect conversation with each other through their writing.”
Bill: “Looks fine, but it seems to require a follow-up ‘but’ sentence. For 
example: But it may also be time to explore the limits of this pairing, 
aspects of their work lost when one seeks a lowest common denominator 
or a set of topics on which they may have indirectly ‘conversed.’ The 
panel will explore ways in which one loses as well as gains by setting the 
two against each other.”
Since our other two panelists agreed that this exchange sufficiently 
reflected their own thinking about the future roundtable, our subject came 
into being effortlessly through dialogue—something each of our authors 
would have approved of in different ways. All of us agreed that conver­
sation would be essential to our roundtable, so despite the somewhat 
longer presentations that appear here, each panelist limited him or herself
8 Robin Feuer Miller
to fifteen minutes of remarks. Members of the audience then contributed 
trenchant insights of their own which have, in fact, helped shaped the 
subsequent version of the presentations offered here.
My own thinking for this roundtable led me to the following prelimi­
nary observations about the significance of animals in the work of Tolstoy 
and Dostoevsky and the ways in which change occurs.
If, for example, one considers how animals figure in the works of 
Tolstoy and Dostoevsky, is it more compelling to search for shared areas 
of interest between them or to take stock of the differences in the role 
animals play in their work? Can one even generalize? It seems that in this 
case the differences between the ways in which animals appear in their 
writing are frequently more interesting to consider. Tolstoy spent his life 
learning from animals—whether from bees, horses, cows, hares, wolves, 
birds, dogs, ants,, or chickens, to name a few. But for Dostoevsky, 
although he admired how ants, bees, flies and animals generally seemed, 
to paraphrase Myshkin, “to know their place in the general chorus” in a 
way that humans generally did not, nevertheless, what seems to have 
preoccupied him most powerfully were the instances when human beings 
practiced cruelty on animals. In The Diary o f  a Writer Dostoevsky 
remembers from his childhood a boy who loved to kill chickens and to 
tear off the heads of sparrows, but who feared the mother hen who would 
spread her wings to defend her chick. This childhood memory resonates 
with his fictional preoccupation with the boundless love of mothers for 
their children and with the horror of gratuitous cruelty to animals. Zosima 
warns eloquently against such cruelty, “Do not torment them, do not take 
their joy from them.” Acts such as feeding pins to a dog or the pointless 
killing of a goose can figure as essential moral underpinnings to a novel.
Tolstoy, on the other hand, although he writes even more frequently 
about animals than does Dostoevsky, does not emphasize their interaction 
with people as much as he does his conviction that the lives of animals 
offer us a living text from which we can leam. Thus, for example, for 
Pozdnyshev in The Kreutzer Sonata a mother hen can set an example for 
a human mother: she cares for her chick tenderly when it is sick, defends 
it against predators, but does not grieve to excess when it dies. She 
clucks for a while and then goes back to her usual pursuits. A chasm 
yawns here between Tolstoy and Dostoevsky: Tolstoy strains to
promulgate the shining example of the mother hen who does not indulge, 
as human mothers do, in immoderate grief. How different this is from 
Dostoevsky’s preoccupation in The Brothers Karamazov with the 
sufferings of parents who lose a child. The novel virtually celebrates a
The Roundtable Game 9
mother’s tears (or a father’s) as a precious testament to human love: they 
are pearls scattered throughout The Brothers Karamazov, The late 
Tolstoy and the late Dostoevsky diverge widely at this point.
The way change occurs in each of their worlds also differs 
significantly despite the many epiphanies and conversions that their 
characters each experience. In Tolstoy’s world change can occur almost 
instantaneously. He often describes such changes through compelling 
similes involving the notion of sight. In War and Peace when Pierre is 
suddenly overcome by the closeness of Helene’s sensual presence, 
Tolstoy’s narrator expresses this change through a simile involving 
vision. “Pierre dropped his eyes, then lifted them, and tried to see her 
again as a distant beauty . . . but found it no longer possible. He could not 
do it any more than a man who has been staring through the mist at a tuft 
of steppe grass and taking it for a tree can see it as a tree once he has 
recognized it for a tuft of grass.” Or, in Anna Karenina, when Kitty is at 
the German spa, Tolstoy describes her sudden changed perception of 
Madame Stahl with a strikingly similar visual simile: “She felt that the 
divine image of Madam Stahl which she had carried in her bosom for a 
whole month had irrevocably vanished, as the figure formed by a cast-off 
garment vanished once one realizes how the garment is lying.”
In Dostoevsky’s world, however, the point about change seems to be 
that however hard one tries to locate a moment of change or conversion, it 
always seems to have an earlier precursor or hint, so that one cannot with 
any certainty precisely locate an actual discrete moment of change. 
Witness, to cite an example which frequently came up at the conference 
in Napoli, the representation of Cana of Galilee in The Brothers 
Karamazov. By the time this important scene occurs, it has already been 
prefigured in countless ways. It is thus impossible to describe the exact 
moment when Alyosha’s grief and anger gave way to joy.
Each writer has his own elaborate “labyrinth of linkages” in which 
“everything is connected.”
Robert Belknap’s starting point (‘Two Techniques of Hostile 
Criticism: Tolstoy’s and Dostoevsky’s?”) is that both Tolstoy and
Dostoevsky “wrote some of their finest prose while doing demolition jobs 
on writings that others honored.” He goes on to scrutinize the different 
methods each writer deployed in this task. Tolstoy, for example, reduces 
Lear’s agony on the heath to a humorous and quite brutal ostranenie. 
“Tolstoy has constructed a brilliantly stupid voice.” Belknap finds 
Dostoevsky’s methods of hostile criticism to be “almost the opposite.” 
He demonstrates how the Underground Man, for example, attacks the
10 Robin Feuer Miller
doctrine of “enlightened self-interest” through a fivefold repetition, 
though different modes of discourse, of a single interrogative statement. 
Belknap here precisely exposes the mechanics of rhetorical strategy in a 
way that has become a signature of his unique contribution to our field. 
The lowest common denominator here is the shared intention of both 
Tolstoy and Dostoevsky not to engage in dialogue with but rather to 
“demolish” important writers with whom they disagree and to make them 
look ridiculous..
Ellen Chances (“Tolstoy and Dostoevsky: Links between Brothers 
Karamazov and Anna Karenina”) analyzes a wide variety of 
correspondences and shared areas of interest in the two novels. She 
explores with particular originality how in each work, the matter of 
judging or not judging is of vital importance. Despite, for example, the 
strongly differing views of the two writers on “the eastern question,” they 
each nevertheless “deal with the same question: is it for the human being 
to judge, or for God?” Chances concludes her presentation with a 
comparison of how the “authentic life filled with meaning” is depicted 
within each novel. In each case, surprisingly, reflections about the world 
of insects help suggest to characters where to find clues to such 
authenticity: Levin follows the movements of a green insect and thinks 
about the meaning of life, and Zosima teaches that “[e] very blade of 
grass, every insect, ant, and golden bee all so amazingly know their path .
. . they bear witness to the mystery of God.”
William Mills Todd III (“Dostoevsky and Tolstoy: The Professio­
nalization of Literature and Serialized Fiction”) takes us to a different 
realm entirely: Where do Tolstoy and Dostoevsky fit within the
profession itself? He explores the material significance of the printed page 
and of the fact of serialized fiction generally. Like Chances, Todd focuses 
on Anna Karenina and The Brothers Karamazov, but he sets himself the 
task of investigating the process of serialization and how each author 
subsequently moved from a serial version to a separate edition of his 
novel. Overarching Todd’s analysis is his careful research into what the 
profession of literature meant at the time with regard to the vocation of 
the writer and the impact of the fact that writers were paid for their 
writing. He defines and analyzes the ethical expectations and norms of 
behavior of a writer generally. Todd then delineates how these three 
criteria interact and even conflict in complex ways for Dostoevsky and 
Tolstoy. In addition, he has constructed an invaluable appendix 
describing the serialization of each novel which will, without doubt, serve 
Dostoevsky and Tolstoy readers everywhere.
The Roundtable Game 11
No summary does justice to these three innovative presentations, but I 
hope this short account can give ample testimony to the enduring and 
endless array of possibilities for reading Tolstoy and Dostoevsky in 
tandem, as well as to the creative, incisive and wide-ranging minds of our 
three roundtable presenters. Finally, may e-mail render “the roundtable 
game” a productive and pleasant pastime for future panels.


The Roundtable Game: An Introduction

Egeberg, Erik

Dostoevsky Studies, New Series, Vol. XII (2008), pp. 233-236 
 
 
 
In memory of Geir Kjetsaa 
 1937-2008 
 
 
 
Early in the morning, June 2nd, on his 71st birthday Geir Kjetsaa passed 
away. 
Once, in the late 1970ies, when I came to Stockholm to see Nils Åke 
Nilsson, I found him with professor Eigil Steffensen of Copenhagen. They 
said: “We have been talking about your colleague Kjetsaa, it is so 
discouraging. However, now we have decided not to pay attention to him 
any more and concentrate on our own activity.” Of course they were 
joking, both being skilled, talented and prolific scholars. But Kjetsaa 
could – against his own will – discourage other scholars who never could 
dream of keeping pace with his working speed. “When other people 
appear at the university in the morning I already have half a day’s work 
done,” he used to say. 
The output of this persistent activity is impressive; the bibliography of 
his works counts about 600 items. His first article on Dostoevsky, a 
review of his teacher Erik Krag’s monograph Dostojevskij (English 
translation 1976: Dostoevsky: The Literary Artist)  appeared in 1962, and 
the next ones only in 1968 and 1971. In fact, as a young scholar Kjetsaa 
wrote much more about other Russian writers and in 1970 defended his 
comprehensive study of Evgeny Baratynsky’s life and work for the degree 
of doctor philosophiae at Oslo University. But from the beginning of the 
1970ies and onwards we find one or more works on Dostoevsky almost 
every year. Thus, in 1977 his first book (in Norwegian) on the writer 
appeared – Dostojevskij og Tolstoj, followed in 1980 by Lutring gjennom 
lidelse (“Purification through suffering”), an analysis of The Brothers 
Karamazov. Then, in 1984, came his first treatise for the international 
audience, Dostoevsky and His New Testament – a small book (81 pp.) of 
great importance, where Kjetsaa presents a scrupulous investigation of the 
different marks that Dostoevsky made in his copy of the NT, the one he 
got in Tobolsk in 1850. And already the following year came Kjetsaa’s 
main work on the writer, Dostojevskij – et dikterliv (English translation 
234                 Obituaries ◊ Nachrufe 
1987: Fyodor Dostoyevsky: A Writer’s Life), according to Victor Terras 
“the best “life and work” treatment of Dostoevsky in any language”.1 And 
that is not all, this book opens a splendid row of literary biographies, all 
based on thorough research: Gogol (1990), Gorky (1994), Tolstoy (1999) 
and Chekhov (2004). 
These works show that Kjetsaa concentrated on the renowned Russian 
classics, just like his teacher. But in one respect he markedly departed 
from Erik Krag’s scholarly practice – by introducing statistic analysis of 
computerized material. The most remarkable achievement in this field is 
undoubtedly his participation in the debate on the authenticity of the first 
(and best) part of Sholokhov’s The Quiet Don. However, also Dostoevsky 
scholarship has profited from Kjetsaa’s involvement with the computer, 
which resulted in the book Prinadlezhnost Dostoevskomu in 1986. 
From a man with such a long inventory of original scholarly works 
and full teaching obligations, carried out with the outmost 
conscientousness, one cannot expect still more. But in fact Geir Kjetsaa is 
the 20th century’s most prominent Norwegian translator of Russian 
literature, having given his compatriots Russian poetry, plays, short 
stories and novels in their mother tongue: Baratynsky, Gogol, Ostrovsky, 
Chekhov, Bunin etc., etc. – but first and foremost the two giants of 
Russian prose. When the 29 volume edition of Dostoevsky’s collected 
works was launched in the 1990ies no less than 10 volumes, including the 
novels The Idiot, The Possessed and The Brothers Karamazov were 
translated by Geir Kjetsaa. And after this exploit he took upon himself 
another heavy task, a complete translation of Tolstoy’s War and Peace (4 
vols., 2001-2004), as all the previous Norwegian versions were more or 
less incomplete. 
But having brilliantly completed this task he said: “I am afraid War 
and Peace was too much for me.” In fact his last years became sad and 
unproductive, and the 2007 Dostoevsky symposium in Budapest he was 
not able to attend. The IDS has lost an energetic and competent vice 
president and a brilliant lecturer, its members a warm and loyal friend and 
a colleague always willing to help by word and deed. 
 
Erik Egeberg            Universitetet i Tromsø 
 
 
 
                                                 
1 Victor Terras: The Idiot. An Interpretation. Boston 1990. (Twayne Masterwork 
Studies. № 57.) P. 99. 
Obituaries ◊ Nachrufe      235 
 
 
Рано утром 2–го июня, в день своего 71–летия, скончался Гейр 
Хетсо. 
Однажды в 1970–е годы, приехав в Стoкгольм на встречу с 
Нильс–Оке Нильссоном, я застал его вместе с профессором 
Копенгагенского университета Эйгилем Стеффенсеном. Они 
сказали: «Мы обсуждали твоего коллегу Гейра Хетсо, это так 
обескураживающе. Однако, теперь мы решили на него больше не 
обращать внимания, а вместо того сосредоточиться на своей 
собственной работе.» Они, конечно, шутили; ведь оба были 
искусные, одаренные, плодовитые ученые. Но Хетсо мог — сам того 
не желая — оказывать обескураживающее воздействие на других 
ученых, не успевающих за его рабочим темпом. «Когда другие 
приходят в университет утром, я уже проработал полдень,» он 
говорил. 
Результат этой упорной деятельности внушителен; список его 
опубликованных работ насчитывает ок. 600 нoмеров. Его первая 
статья о Достоевском, рецензия на монографию его учителя Эрика 
Крага Dostojevskij (издание на английском языке Dostoevsky: The 
Literary Artist, 1976 г. ), была напечатана в 1962–ом году, а 
следующие появились только в 1968–ом и 1971–ом. Дело в том, что 
молодой ученый Хетсо писал больше о других русских писателях, в 
1970–ом году защитив свою объемистую докторскую диссертацию о 
жизни и творчестве Евгения Баратынского. Но начиная с 1970–х 
годов мы находим почти ежегодно одну работу (или несколько 
работ) и о Достоевском. Таким образом, в 1977–ом году вышла его 
первая книга (на норвежском языке) о писателе — Lutring gjennom 
lidelse («Очищение через страдание») — исследование романа 
Братья Карамазовы. Затем, в 1983–ом году, появилось его первое 
исследование, назначенное для международной ученой публике, 
Dostoevsky and His New Testament («Достоевский и его Новый Завет») 
— небольшая (в 81 стр.), но очень важная книга, в которой 
рассматриваются заметки, внесенные в экземпляр Нового Завета, 
полученный Достоевским в Тобольске в 1850–ом году. И уже в 
следующем, 1984–ом, году вышел в свет главный труд Хетсо о 
Достоевском, Dostojevskij — et dikterliv («Достоевский — жизнь 
писателя», переводы имеются на нескольких языках), по мнению 
Виктора Терраса «наилучшая трактовка Достоевского жанра «жизни 
и творчества» на любом языке».1 И мало того, книга эта открывает 
прекрасный ряд биографий писателей, базирущихся на скрупулезной 
236                 Obituaries ◊ Nachrufe 
исследовательской работе: Гоголя (1990 г.), Горького (1994 г.), 
Толстого (1999 г.), Чехова (2004 г.). 
Эти труды показывают, что Хетсо, следуя примеру своего 
учителя, занимался прежде всего знаменитыми русскими 
классиками. В одном же отношении он, однако, отчетливо 
расходится с научной практикой Эрика Крага, а именно в 
применении статистических методов в обработке 
компютеризованных материалов. Из его работ в этой области без 
сомнения наибольшее внимание привлекают те, которые связаны со 
спором об авторстве первой (и лучшей) части Тихого Дона 
Шолохова, но своей книгой «Принадлежность Достоевскому» (1986 
г.) Хетсо сделал немаловажный вклад и в достоевсковедение. 
От человека, написавшего такой длинный ряд научных трудов и 
к тому же добросовестно несшего полную преподавательскую 
обязанность, мы не в праве ожидать еще больше. Но оказывается, 
что Гейр Хетсо — в 20–ом веке самый выдающийся переводчик с 
русского на норвежский, давший своим соотечественникам русскую 
лирику, драматургию, рассказы и романы: сочинения Баратынского, 
Гоголя, Островского, Чехова, Бунина и т. д. — но в первую очередь 
произведения двух великанов русской прозы. Когда в 1990–е годы 
стало выходить полное собрание сочинений Достоевского на 
норвежском языке, целые 10 томов, включая романы Идиот, Бесы и 
Братья Карамазовы были переведены именно Гейром Хетсо. А по 
совершении этого подвига он взялся за новую крупную задачу, 
полный перевод «Войны и мира» Толстого (4 тома, 2001–2004 гг.), 
зная, что все прежние версии более или менее неполны. 
Но блестяще выполнив это задание, он сказал: «Боюсь, что меня 
сломили Война и мир.» И действительно, последние годы его жизни 
оказались грустными и неплодовитыми, а на симпозиум по 
Достоевскому 2007–го года в Будапеште он уже не смог приехать. В 
нем Международное Общество Достоевского потеряло дельного и 
умелого вицепрезидента, а члены общества — сочувственного и 
верного друга, коллегу всегда готового к помощи словом и делом. 
 
Erik Egeberg      Universitetet i Tromsø 
 
                                                 
1 Victor Terras: The Idiot. An Interpretation. Boston 1990. (Twayne Masterwork 
Studies. № 57.) Стр. 99. 


Russian

IN MEMORY OF GEIR KJETSAA, 1937-2008

Ungarische Nationalgesichter und türkischer Teufel:Clemens Brentanos Wehmüller als interkulturelles Erzählspie

Mecklenburg, Norbert

Ungarische Nationalgesichter und türkischer Teufel: Clemens Brentanos Wehmüller als interkulturelles Erzählspiel

Untersuchungen zur Anzeigewerbung in deutschsprachigenZeitungen Mitteleuropas im 19. und 20. Jahrhunder

Meier, Jörg

Untersuchungen zur Anzeigewerbung in deutschsprachigen Zeitungen Mitteleuropas im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert

Marina Kogut: Dostoevskij auf Deutsch. Vergleichende Analyse fünfdeutscher Übersetzungen des Romans Besy. Im Anhang Interviews derAutorin mit Swetlana Geier und Egon Ammann. Frankfurt am Main:Peter Lang 2009

Neuhäuser, Rudolf

Dostoevsky Studies, New Series, Vol. XIV (2010), pp. 221-237 
Marina Kogut: Dostoevskij auf Deutsch. Vergleichende Analyse fünf 
deutscher Übersetzungen des Romans Besy. Im Anhang Interviews der 
Autorin mit Swetlana Geier und Egon Ammann. Frankfurt am Main: 
Peter Lang 2009 (= Heidelberger Publikationen zur Slavistik. B. 
Literaturwissenschaftliche Reihe. Band 35). 300 pp. 
 
Diese ursprünglich als Dissertation an der Universität Freiburg entstandene 
Studie beruht nicht zuletzt auf Gesprächen, welche die Autorin mit der 
Übersetzerin des Romans Besy, Frau Dr. h.c. Swetlana Geier, führte, und 
die sie in der Folge im Rahmen ihres Dissertationsprojekts in Freiburg und 
an der Staatlichen Universität in St. Petersburg weiter vertiefte. Das Buch 
bietet aber mehr als der Titel verspricht. Der Leser findet darin eine präzise 
Darstellung der Rezeption des Romans in Russland mit Schwerpunkt auf 
der sowjetischen und postsowjetischen Periode, wie auch eine kurz 
gefasste Darstellung der Übersetzungsgeschichte, die zugleich einen 
Beitrag zur Dostoevskij-Rezeption in  Deutschland  liefert.   Für  
Leser,  die  sich selbst  mit Übersetzungen beschäftigen, bietet der 
Anhang ausgewählte Texte des Romans in russischer Sprache, denen dann 
fünf Übersetzungen folgen, in denen (1.) „nicht-wörtliche“ Übersetzungen, 
(2.) selbständige Zusätze des Übersetzers und (3.) Auslassungen markiert 
sind. Auch die Epigraphen des Romans, Puškins Verse „Besy“ und das 
Bibelzitat nach Lukas 8, 32-37, sind im Original und den fünf von Kogut 
ausgewählten Übersetzungen im Anhang wiedergegeben. Eine weitere 
Besonderheit ist der im Anhang vollständig abgedruckte Brief des 
Winkler-Verlags an Frau Geier, aus dem die Gründe für die Ablehnung der 
Übernahme ihrer Übersetzung, die dann im Ammann Verlag erschien, zu 
ersehen sind. Dem darauf folgenden Interview aus dem Jahr 2000, das die 
Autorin mit Frau Geier führte, kann der Leser weitere 
Hintergrundinformationen zu dieser etwas merkwürdigen Argumentation 
entnehmen.  Das  Buch endet mit einem Interview der Autorin von 2001  
mit Egon Ammann,  der Frau Geiers „Dostoevskij-Projekt" zu dem 
Seinen machte und mit großem Erfolg umsetzte. Damit wird ein Stück 
Verlagsgeschichte lebendig. Der Leser erhält darin auch sehr persönliche 
Einblicke in die Biographie der vielfach ausgezeichneten Übersetzerin. In 
dem Kapitel über die von Kogut ausgewählten Übersetzungen wird die 
Biographie der Übersetzerin Geier dann noch ausführlicher dargestellt. 
Die Übersetzungsgeschichte von Besy begann 1888 mit Hubert Putzes 
Besessenen im Dresdener Minden-Verlag, setzte sich fort mit dem 
Dostoevskij-Projekt des Piper-Verlags, in dem 1906 Die Dämonen in der 
Übersetzung von E. K. Rahsin schien, übrigens ein Pseudonym, hinter dem 
222 Book Reviews ◊ Rezensionen 
sich die Schwägerin von Arthur Moeller van den Bruck, Frau Elisabeth 
Kaerrick, verbirgt. Frau Kaerrick, die aus Estland stammt und in 
Tartu/Dorpat studierte, scheint ein ambivalentes Verhältnis zum grollen 
russischen Autor gehabt zu haben, wie ihr Ausspruch andeutet: „Aber 
natürlich darf ich nichts sagen, noch merken lassen, wie sehr ich den Kerl 
[= Dostoevskij] oft gehasst habe! Da war nichts von ,Hingabe‘ und schöner 
Treue, sondern Zwang und – na ja! erst nachher stellte sich dann ein ,Sinn‘ 
ein.“ (Kogut, 213). Die dritte Übersetzung kommt aus dem Artemis 
Verlag, in dem Waldemar Jollos 1948 seine Fassung der Dämonen 
herausbrachte und im Vorwort mit Seitenblick auf die UdSSR konstatierte: 
„Mit divinatorischer Sicherheit hat Dostoevskij hier das Herrschaftsprinzip 
Lenins und Stalins zum Ausdruck gebracht.“ (Kogut, 215) Die vierte 
Übersetzung führt uns in die DDR, wo 1985 im Aufbau-Verlag der Roman 
Die Dämonen in der Übersetzung von Günter Dalitz mit einem Nachwort 
von Prof. Michael Wegner erschien. Den krönenden Abschluss bildet 
schließlich Swetlana Geiers Übersetzung Böse Geister von 1998 im 
Ammann Verlag. Man sieht, die Auswahl ist so getroffen, dass hier 
wesentliche Zeiten des Umbruchs und der Neuorientierung zu Wort 
kommen, was sich in den Vorworten zu den Übersetzungen, so vorhanden, 
auch abzeichnet. 
Den Hintergrund der Übersetzungsanalyse bilden kurzgefasste Kapitel 
zu Dostoevskijs künstlerischer Eigenart, in denen Kogut auf Fragen des 
Stils, der Figurenkonstellation und Personencharakteristik, Syntax u.a. 
eingeht. In diesem Zusammenhang verweist die Autorin mit Recht auf den 
„Sprachkünstler“ in Dostoevskij, der, wie sie betont, erst in Frau Geiers 
Übersetzung adäquat wiedergegeben wird „und damit das ,noch allzu 
seelenbetonte, verwaschene Dostoevskij-Verständnis im deutschspra-
chigen Raum‘ korrigiert,“ wie es schon Regula Heusser in der Zürcher 
Zeitung formulierte. (Kogut, 55) Die Kunst der „Sprachporträts“ bei 
Dostoevskij wird besonders gewürdigt. Die Darstellung der Polyphonie 
folgt Bachtin, wenngleich Kogut feststellt, „Die eigenen Ansichten 
Dostoevskljs kann man aus mehreren Stimmen heraushören" und dabei auf 
Bischof Tichon, Šatov, Kirillov, Stepan Trofimovič und den Chronisten 
verweist. Ausführlicher ist das Kapitel über die Bildtechnik, wobei Kogut 
besonders auf die karikaturistischen Aspekte und die ironisch gefärbten 
Diminutiva bei Dostoevskij eingeht. Weitere von Kogut behandelte 
Aspekte der künstlerischen Methode Dostoevskijs betreffen die 
„Inszenierung von Emotionen“, erweitert zur „psychologischen Stilistik,“ 
und die „Personencharakteristik durch Mittel nonverbaler Kommuni-
kation.“ Immer wieder findet der Leser dazu entsprechende Romanzitate, 
Book Reviews ◊ Rezensionen 223 
die sowohl auf Russisch wie auch in deutscher Übersetzung angeführt 
werden.  
Die „Exemplarische Übersetzungsanalyse“ bildet dann mit über 100 
Seiten den Hauptteil des Buches, wobei repräsentative Textpassagen, die 
den Romanfiguren Chronist, Stavrogin, Kirillov und Lebjadkina zuge-
ordnet sind, das Material für die Analyse liefern. Jede einzelne dieser 
Romanfiguren wird von Kogut mit Bezug auf ihre Position im Roman-
geschehen, ihren psychologischen Hintergrund und ihre sprachlichen 
Besonderheiten charakterisiert. Es folgen dann Textpassagen, die im 
Original und den fünf ausgewählten Übersetzungen angeführt werden. 
Anschließend werden die Unterschiede zwischen den Übersetzungen 
eingehend analysiert. Den Abschluss bilden eine knappe, aber aufschluss-
reiche Gegenüberstellung der Besonderheiten der fünf Übersetzer (S. 
189-193) und, als Teil des Anhangs, eine Quantifizierungstabelle. (S. 255) 
Daraus ergibt sich nicht nur eine mit statistischen Daten belegte 
Beurteilung der unterschiedlichen Übersetzungen und der sich dahinter 
verbergenden Verfahren der Übersetzer, sondern auch ein Beleg für das 
von der Verfasserin augenscheinlich angestrebte Ziel, Frau Geiers 
Übersetzung in ihrer Originalität und Neuheit nachvollziehbar zu belegen: 
„Die Quantifizierungstabelle weist aus, wie wenig Swetlana Geier in ihrer 
Übersetzung vom Wortlaut und von der Syntax des Originals abgewichen 
ist. Durch die Treue gegenüber dem Original entsteht häufig eine spröde 
Sprache, die zwar im Deutschen fremd wirkt, aber dem Duktus 
Dostoevskijs sehr nahe kommt. Genau diese stilistische Entscheidung 
grenzt die Leistung von Swetlana Geier gegenüber allen anderen 
vorliegenden Übersetzungen ab.“ (Kogut, 193) Nicht unerwähnt möchte 
der Rezensent das der Übersetzungsanalyse nachfolgende exzellente 
Kapitel über „Titelübersetzung als Paradigma für die Auffassung des 
Gesamtwerkes" lassen, in dem der Leser eine ausführliche (auch 
bebilderte!) Darstellung der Bedeutung der russischen Begriffe ,bes‘ und 
,demon‘ findet. Das ausführliche Literaturverzeichnis schließt eine Liste 
aller Übersetzungen des Romans ins Deutsche ein. Leider fehlt im Buch 
ein Index.  
Frau Koguts Studie bringt für Übersetzer aus dem Russischen 
interessante und nützliche Einsichten. Der des Russischen nicht kundige 
Leser bekommt nicht nur einen Einblick in die Werkstatt des Übersetzers, 
er wird Übersetzungen auch selbst besser einschätzen können. Die 
angewendete statistische Methode, die sich naturgemäß auf einen im 
Vergleich zum Original eher kleinen Textkorpus stützt, mag nicht 
jedermann befriedigen, ist aber durchaus aussagekräftig. Die sehr kurz 
224 Book Reviews ◊ Rezensionen 
gehaltenen Kapitel, die der eigentlichen Analyse vorangestellt sind, 
bringen kaum Neues und sind, wie am Beispiel „Polyphonie“ erkennbar, 
eher oberflächlich gehalten. Nichtsdestoweniger gehört dieses Buch nach 
Meinung des Rezensenten in jede slavistische Bibliothek und in die Hand 
derjenigen, die, womöglich ohne Blick auf das Original, gerne Texte aus 
verfügbaren Übersetzungen zitieren. 
 
Rudolf Neuhäuser                    Alpen-Adria Universität Klagenfurt 
 
 
Joseph Frank: Dostoevsky: A Writer in His Time. Princeton and Oxford, 
Princeton University Press 2010 (edited by Mary Petrusewicz). 959 pp. 
 
Joseph Frank, emeritierter Professor für Slawistik und Vergleichende 
Literaturwissenschaft an den Universitäten Stanford und Princeton, hatte 
schon zwischen 1976 und 2002 eine fünfbändige Biographie 
Dostojewskijs herausgebracht, die mit insgesamt rund 2.500 Seiten die 
umfassendste Darstellung des Lebens und Werkes des großen Russen ist, 
wofür der Autor zahlreiche Preise in den USA und auch eine Auszeichnung 
in Russland (St. Petersburg) erhalten hat. Frau Petrusewicz, die selbst ein 
Ph. D. Studium absolvierte und an der Stanford Universität unterrichtete, 
hat mit Unterstützung des Autors den Inhalt der fünf Bände in einem Band 
zusammengefasst, dessen fünf Teile die Titel der ursprünglichen Bände 
tragen. Vorweg sei gesagt, dass dieser gewichtige Band dem Slawisten und 
Kenner zwar wenig neue Erkenntnisse bringt, aber für den Leser auf 
anerkennenswerte Weise ein intellektuelles Panorama Russlands im 19. 
Jahrhunderts entwirft und Dostojewskijs Stellung, seine Verwurzelung in 
den ideologischen und philosophischen Strömungen der Zeit, wie auch 
dessen eigenen Beitrag dazu in gelungener Weise darstellt. J. M. Coetzee 
hat in seiner Rezension des vierten Bandes diesen methodischen Zugang 
Franks zu Dostojewskij charakterisiert und hoch gelobt: „In his aim of 
elucidating the setting within which Dostoevsky wrote – personal on the 
one hand, social, historical, cultural, literary, and philosophical on the other 
– Frank has succeeded triumphantly.” (The New York Review of Books, 
March 2, 1995) Dies kann man nur unterstreichen.  Frank selbst hatte 
schon in seinem ersten Band betont, dass er keine konventionelle 
Biographie schreibe. Er gehe nicht vom Leben zum Werk, sondern den 
umgekehrten Weg. „My purpose is to interpret Dostoevsky’s art.“ (J. 
Frank, The Seeds of Revolt, 1976, S. xii) Das Privatleben des Schriftstellers 
sei nicht der wesentliche Ausgangspunkt für die Biographie, sondern „it 


Marina Kogut: Dostoevskij auf Deutsch. Vergleichende Analyse fünf deutscher Übersetzungen des Romans Besy. Im Anhang Interviews der Autorin mit Swetlana Geier und Egon Ammann. Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang 2009.

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