...something had to give. And unfortunately this was a victim.
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...Dostoevsky has been reincarnated as Luke Rhinehart (the pen name of George Cockcroft). I’ve only read the first six chapters so far, but there is sometime familiar in the subversity of ‘The Dice Man’ that reminds me of ‘Notes from the underground’.
I’m rather excited about reading more. Shame I have a poker game on tonight. There’s always tomorrow!
...that I couldn’t possibly do it the justice it deserves. But I find that I struggle reading the translated text. I’m not sure whether it’s down to the age of the language or issues with the translation, but the ideas behind each sentence are so jarringly brilliant that it is worth persevering with.
So far it’s been slow to digest, but completely rewarding. While reading it though, I’ve found myself translating each sentence (internally) into more contemporary language.
I’ll never learn enough Russian to get past pure transliteration of Cyrillic (I’ve probably lost most of the ability to do even that), so I could never aspire to create another translation. But creating an abridged and concise contemporary version feels within my reach. Even if it does feel a little like sacrilege.

