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The Fateful Adventures of the Good Soldier Švejk During the World War #1-4
Przygody dobrego wojaka Szwejka podczas wojny światowej
Głównym bohaterem jest sprzedawca butów i pucybut porucznika Lukasza – Józef Szejk. Hasek osadził akcję w realiach ówczesnej Pragi,a powieść w dużej mierze oparta jest na jego doświadczeniach.
Paperback
First published March 1, 1921
About the author
Jaroslav Hašek
280 books281 followersJaroslav Hašek was a Czech humorist, satirist, writer and anarchist best known for his novel The Good Soldier Švejk (Czech: Osudy dobrého vojáka Švejka za světové války), an unfinished collection of farcical incidents about a soldier in World War I and a satire on the ineptitude of authority figures, which has been translated into sixty languages. He also wrote some 1,500 short stories. He was a journalist, bohemian, and practical joker.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,379 reviews
March 31, 2021
I’ve read The Good Soldier Švejk twice – once when I was still adolescent and second time when I was already an adult. I enjoyed it both times, though quite differently.
Everything begins on the eve of the Great War…
Besides many other things, this extravagant tale seems to be one of the first examples of postmodern novels full of delicious black humour.
This world of ours is a huge lunatic asylum and we all are patients there.
Everything begins on the eve of the Great War…
“So they’ve killed Ferdinand,” said the charwoman to Mr. Schweik who, having left the army many years before, when a military medical board had declared him to be chronically feebleminded, earned a livelihood by the sale of dogs – repulsive mongrel monstrosities for whom he forged pedigrees. Apart from this occupation, he was afflicted with rheumatism, and was just rubbing his knees with embrocation.
“Which Ferdinand, Mrs. Muller?” asked Schweik, continuing to massage his knees. “I know two Ferdinands. One of them does jobs for Prusa the chemist, and one day he drank a bottle of hair oil by mistake; and then there’s Ferdinand Kokoska who goes round collecting manure. They wouldn’t be any great loss, either of ‘em.”
Besides many other things, this extravagant tale seems to be one of the first examples of postmodern novels full of delicious black humour.
I really don’t know why those loonies get so angry when they’re kept there. You can crawl naked on the floor, howl like a jackal, rage and bite. If anyone did this anywhere on the promenade people would be astonished, but there it’s the most common or garden thing to do. There’s a freedom there which not even Socialists have ever dreamed of.
This world of ours is a huge lunatic asylum and we all are patients there.
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April 15, 2023
"Nowadays it's fun being locked up," Švejk continued with relish. "There's no quartering, no Spanish boots. We've got bunks, a table, a bench. We're not all squashed together like sardines: we get soup; they give us bread and bring us a jug of water. We've got our latrines right under our snouts. You can see progress in everything."
Jaroslav Hašek was a born practical joker and mischief-maker. What better author to write a comic novel that's also a war novel than this renowned literary Czech hoaxer. As Milan Kundera observed, in Homer and Tolstoy war had a comprehensible meaning and people fighting the war knew what they were fighting for. With Hašek things are much different: soldiers like Švejk go off to battle without the foggiest idea why they are fighting - and even more alarming, without even wanting or caring to find out.
The Good Soldier Švejk is a classic work of European literature, one of the most popular and beloved novels ever published. Memorable scenes and quotable lines, as the one cited above, pop out on every single one of its 750 pages.
Penguin Classics is to be commended for Cecil Parrott's lively English translation and also including a Guide to the Pronunciation of Czech Names, maps, Josef Lada illustrations and the translator's extensive Introduction providing biographical notes on the author as well as social, cultural, historical and literary context for the novel.
The first chapter starts off with a bang - the shooting of the Archduke Ferdinand, nephew of the Austrian Emperor, and his wife at Sarajevo by a Serbian nationalist. Not exactly history's peaches and cream event as this bang-bang-bang propelled Europe into the First World War. What follows gives a reader a real bang for their buck, mostly of the comic variety taking the form of what I term a "Švejk moment." Here are a four such"Švejk moments" I count among my personal favorites:
1. Thrown in jail at police headquarters with a bunch of other anti-government conspirators, labeled as such for things like not reading the newspaper about the recent events in Sarajevo, one shocked man cries out, "I'm innocent!" to which Švejk replies, "Jesus Christ was innocent too and all the same they crucified him. No one anywhere has ever worried about a man being innocent. Grin and bear it."
2. The government official in the pub who took Švejk off to prison promised to return with armed guards so he could arrest the pub owner since he let flies shit on a portrait of the Archduke he had hanging in his pub. When the pub owner is thrown in the cell with Švejk and the other men, he instantly becomes despondent. Švejk shakes his hand cordially and says: "I knew that gentleman would keep his word when he said that they'd come for you. Punctiliousness like that is a good thing"
3. Švejk's landlady is beside herself with upset and wants sympathy. She tells Švejk she is going to jump out the window, to which the good soldier replies: "If you want to jump out the window, go into the sitting room. I've opened the window for you. I wouldn't advise you to jump out of the kitchen window, because you'd fall on the rose bed in the garden, damage the bushes and have to pay for them. From the window in the sitting-room you'll fall beautifully on the pavement and if you're lucky you'll break your neck."
4. A policeman attempts to trap Švejk by buying dogs from the good soldier. He keeps the dogs in a room without feeding them. Some time thereafter, upon entering the room, the dogs tear him to pieces. When Švejk hears of this most tragic event, he says: "It gives me a headache to think how they are going to put all his pieces together when the day of the last judgement comes."
As Cecil Parrott states in his Introduction and a number of other literary critics have noted, a more complete appreciation of Jaroslav Hašek’s novel forces us to fathom Švejk’s character which is complex and multifaceted and knotty . Švejk is quick to acknowledge with pride that he received a military discharge for patent idiocy but, as we come to learn the more we read, Švejk is nobody’s fool. Although he frequently plays the dunce, it becomes increasingly clear Švejk is keenly analytic, knowledgeable, well-read and possesses a deep understanding of human nature.
What adds much depth to the tale is all in the contrast: from beginning to end Švejk remains calm, almost angelic; his eyes glow with innocence and tenderness, his face radiates kindness, gentleness and light; he speaks his words with such sincerity and honesty that those around him, even the most hardheaded and militaristic, are taken by his presence. Meanwhile individuals in power like the police and military officers are characterized as selfish, vulgar, uncouth, loutish, even brutal, sadistic and inhumane.
Returning to the character of Švejk, there still remains the issue: to what degree is Švejk at one with his glowing innocence? Or, stated another way, how much of what we read of Švejk's adventures is a matter of the good soldier playacting in order to manipulate those around him? Readers are left to decide for themselves. However, one thing is clear: a sweet, kindly, honest Švejk from the tip of his cap to the laces of his boots makes for a story both charming and heartwarming.
So here we are at the outbreak of the First World War and the countries of Europe are poised to swing into action. Join the army, muster up your courage and go to the front. What adventure! Be a hero off the pages of Walter Scott or Alexandre Dumas. But as thousands of young men quickly discovered - this is the twentieth century, complete with machine guns, poison gas, flamethrowers, mortars, tanks and aircraft. The chances of returning from the front in one piece physically and mentally are slim to none.
Yet inept governments and bumbling military leaders pressed on. What was needed in such a world gone mad was an author capable of stinging satire, creating a hero more anti-hero than hero. What was needed was Jaroslav Hašek and his The Good Soldier Švejk.
Jaroslav Hašek (1883 -1923) - "Great times call for great men," was Hašek's ironic comment about Švejk.
August 26, 2014
The Czech antidote to Heller’s Catch-22 (a wonderful but overpraised anti-war satire), this anarchistic (and openly misogynistic) classic is bolder, bawdier, barmier and another B-bouncing word than Heller’s similar book thing. The premise here is that the balding and plump Švejk (or so he appears in the smile-raising illustrations) pretends to be an idiot to “dodge the draft,” but his motivations are deeper and his brain power plumper—he remembers his officer’s orders verbatim and is able to parrot their barked orders back at them, riling his superiors simply by showing up their lamebrained hypocrisy at every opportunity. The remarkable thing about this not-always-hilarious, but relentlessly entertaining book is that Hašek was an educated hobo who spent his time bumming the railroads, pulling this masterpiece out his pants while living a true on-the-edge anarchist life. The novel is punk slapstick. The comedy here spins out into shows like Bilko, Dad’s Army, MASH (asterisks omitted) and so on—with nice and nasty satirical strafings and knifings for fans of that kind of thing. Essential for all ages 3 and up.
February 20, 2024
Una sátira de esas que no se olvidan. Hašek ilustra muy bien a Švejk, cómo se hace soldado, cómo "lucha" por el imperio austro-húngaro y todas las anécdotas que le suceden a éste. Cuando estaba en Praga, vi un restaurante llamado Švejk y me recordó inmediatamente al libro. Situaciones absurdas, por una guerra absurda (como todas las guerras) con anécdotas absurdas, pero que siempre condujeron a un mismo lugar: la armada.
Lo que creo que más gracia me causó fue que entre más soldado se sentía, más absurdo era todo... buen menaje subliminal.
¿Recomendable? ¡Absolutamente! Leer sobre tópicos serios y tristes en manera de sátira es simplemente genial.
Švejk siempre vivirá en mi corazón.
Lo que creo que más gracia me causó fue que entre más soldado se sentía, más absurdo era todo... buen menaje subliminal.
¿Recomendable? ¡Absolutamente! Leer sobre tópicos serios y tristes en manera de sátira es simplemente genial.
Švejk siempre vivirá en mi corazón.
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June 21, 2018Probably the funniest book ever written about the first world war.
This isn't really a novel, more of a series of anecdotes linked together by a few characters and whose narrative drive grows weaker as the work progresses. It was written in instalments and I have never heard tell that there was an overall plan for the book.
Much of what happens and even bizarre stories like the editor who invented new animals to write about for a regular animal magazine are drawn from Hašek's own experiences.
It was written after the war and after the author's experience as a Bolshevik Commissar, and so is looking back on the vanished world of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
Probably more by the accident of the author's early, alcohol related death than by design, an ongoing joke is that the Czech soldiers spend their free time fighting Hungarian soldiers, teasing Polish troops and getting round bumbling German officers all of whom are, technically at least, mutually united in the service of His Imperial Majesty Franz-Josef II.
Naturally since the story was written after the Empire had been broken up in to a number of countries, two of which in turn no longer exist, and for the explicit purpose of amusing the Czech reading public in order to earn money to spend on drink, national stereotypes as well as devotion and loyalty to the old empire are played for laughs.
The earliest section featuring Svejk developing arthritis to avoid being called up as a reservist, photographed in his wheelchair cheering on the troops leaving for the front, a spell in a lunatic asylum, getting drafted and gambled away by a drunken field chaplain, then loosing himself on his way to join his regiment but succeeding in not being tried for desertion is possibly the funniest. Although I have a grim appreciation of the cadet officer sent to a cholera hospital after having brought diarrhoea upon himself by scoffing all the chocolates he had been sent from home. The cholera hospital being understood as a nobler alternative than the embarrassing truth which pretty much sums up the tone of the work - a delight in the self-defeating idiocy of the entire endeavour.
There are at least two serious reasons for the English speaker to read this. Firstly it is part of the war that wasn't the Western front. The Western front so looms up in our historical imagination that the millions who also died and survived on the Eastern Front, on the Italian Front, fighting in the Ottoman Empire, in Africa and a few other places are easily forgotten and often overlooked. Secondly it is a comic, not a tragic view of the war. This is the other side of the war - there were some people who felt like winners. Citizens of new states that emerged out of the rubble of old empires, dusting off their shoulders and feeling relatively upbeat (at least for a few years) about their place in a new Europe.
This isn't really a novel, more of a series of anecdotes linked together by a few characters and whose narrative drive grows weaker as the work progresses. It was written in instalments and I have never heard tell that there was an overall plan for the book.
Much of what happens and even bizarre stories like the editor who invented new animals to write about for a regular animal magazine are drawn from Hašek's own experiences.
It was written after the war and after the author's experience as a Bolshevik Commissar, and so is looking back on the vanished world of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
Probably more by the accident of the author's early, alcohol related death than by design, an ongoing joke is that the Czech soldiers spend their free time fighting Hungarian soldiers, teasing Polish troops and getting round bumbling German officers all of whom are, technically at least, mutually united in the service of His Imperial Majesty Franz-Josef II.
Naturally since the story was written after the Empire had been broken up in to a number of countries, two of which in turn no longer exist, and for the explicit purpose of amusing the Czech reading public in order to earn money to spend on drink, national stereotypes as well as devotion and loyalty to the old empire are played for laughs.
The earliest section featuring Svejk developing arthritis to avoid being called up as a reservist, photographed in his wheelchair cheering on the troops leaving for the front, a spell in a lunatic asylum, getting drafted and gambled away by a drunken field chaplain, then loosing himself on his way to join his regiment but succeeding in not being tried for desertion is possibly the funniest. Although I have a grim appreciation of the cadet officer sent to a cholera hospital after having brought diarrhoea upon himself by scoffing all the chocolates he had been sent from home. The cholera hospital being understood as a nobler alternative than the embarrassing truth which pretty much sums up the tone of the work - a delight in the self-defeating idiocy of the entire endeavour.
There are at least two serious reasons for the English speaker to read this. Firstly it is part of the war that wasn't the Western front. The Western front so looms up in our historical imagination that the millions who also died and survived on the Eastern Front, on the Italian Front, fighting in the Ottoman Empire, in Africa and a few other places are easily forgotten and often overlooked. Secondly it is a comic, not a tragic view of the war. This is the other side of the war - there were some people who felt like winners. Citizens of new states that emerged out of the rubble of old empires, dusting off their shoulders and feeling relatively upbeat (at least for a few years) about their place in a new Europe.
November 30, 2015
Humbly report, Sir, but I've been reading this book called The Good Soldier Švejk which I had not planned to read as part of my World War I project, but there you have it. It's a satire of the stupidity of war, of governments and armies and regulations, of class struggles. Of being a Czech, and nevertheless in the Austrian army. To deal with the absurdity of it all, you need an anti-hero. Which would be this guy:
Švejk.
One buffoonerous episode...
follows another...
and another...
Yes, the drawings are in the book and add to theanarchy fun.
People say this book has its roots in Don Quixote, but there's Shandian digressions, too, and, as a character, Švejk has plenty of Bartleby in him. But he's funnier, more complex, and wiser, much wiser, despite his protestations of idiocy. It's obviously credited as spawning Catch-22, and yes, it's an anti-war novel. But when a few almost-enlightened characters did a double-take, a facial tic of wonder if the imbecile might just be putting them on, I thought of Chauncey Gardiner too.
'Listen, Švejk, are you really God's prize oaf?'
'Humbly report, Sir,' Švejk answered solemnly, 'I am. Ever since I was little I have had bad luck like that.'
I was thinking of all these things, as I was almost done with the book, and the et ux and I decided to take a five-mile walk around a nearby lake. The path follows a roadway, one mile of which was under repair, a widening project, what they call it, which had been in progress for six months and was days from completion.
We walked as far as the section under repair. Years of parochial education have resulted in my following even the most pedantic of rules (and a good handful of the Ten Commandments, by the way), so I stopped us at the three big ROAD CLOSED signs. However, there is something about a freshly paved roadway, with brightly painted yellow and white lines. There was just some guardrail work being done. We asked some of the worker bees whether we could continue on and they couldn't think why not, and we couldn't think why not either, this being America and all. Can I have a little Woody Guthrie please!
As I went walking I saw a sign there
And on the sign it said "No Trespassing."
But on the other side it didn't say nothing,
That side was made for you and me.
Thank you.
And it was indeed a beautiful ribbon of highway. I tipped my cap to the workers, who tipped their caps back at me. All was well.
At about the halfway point through the 'construction area', a white pick-up truck with a flashing yellow light on top came speeding up from behind us, screeching to a stop at our side. What he said was, 'This is a NO TRESPASSING area!' but I think what he meant was Sir, you have rubbed the bloom off my virginity.
To which the et ux offered, 'My husband said it was okay.'
The officious man in the white pick-up truck now knew which guilty party to glare at. So, I offered, 'This reminds me of the time the et ux and I were driving back from Illinois and where the highway goes in a big circle around Indianapolis the speed limit went from 75 miles per hour to 55 miles per hour, with not enough warning, if you know what I mean. So I got pulled over. The local gendarme walked up to the car, identifying himself and explaining why he was compelled to stop me, only to be interrupted by the et ux, who leaned over to say, 'I told him to slow down!' My hands on the wheel, I waited for her to continue with 'but he never listens when he's drinking' but the hand of God must have stopped her.'
'You're a smart-aleck,' said the white pick-up truck.
'Humbly report, that view has its supporters, but then there's those that vote for feeble-minded. But anyway, baszom az anyát, baszom az istenet, baszom a Kristus Máriát, baszom az astyádot, baszom a világot.'
'What's your name?'
'Švejk.'
'Shvayk?'
'No, Švejk. Just like it's spelled.'
'You're not Shvayk.' (this from the et ux.)
'Well, you can't walk here.'
I decide to be quiet and let him figure this out. The sign on his door says FOLINO CONSTRUCTION and not MCCANDLESS TOWNSHIP POLICE DEPARTMENT. We are one-half mile from where we came and one-half mile from where we are going. We do not have a helicopter. The most ardent profiler could not perceive the two old people that we are as terrorists, nor is this new roadway likely on any Top 100 Infrastructure Thingies We'd Like to Blow Up List in Jihad Monthly. So, here we were, waiting for the man Mr. Folino thought enough of to let him have a spinning yellow light on top of his truck to figure this out. As Švejk would say, he had a well-developed talent for observation when it's already too late and some unpleasantness has happened.
We were let off with a warning.
We walked through the construction zone, and about a mile more in silence. Then the et ux said, 'You're writing a review, aren't you Mr. Shvayk?'
'Why yes I am. And it's Švejk.'
'That book with the cartoon on the cover?'
'Somewhat famous drawings by Josef Lada, but yes.'
'What's it about?'
'It's a satire, with a seeming bumbling idiot for a protagonist who goes on one misadventure after another, but with the clear purpose, if you read it correctly, of not getting anywhere near the front lines during World War I and getting himself killed.'
'A satire?'
'Yes. A satire. Which is tricky because the people who are spoofed in a satire are pretty much guaranteed not to see the humor in it. It reminds me of the guy who would be making dinner and his wife would walk behind him making sure he closed all the drawers he opened so that crumbs wouldn't fall in. Or would stand there when he returned from taking the garbage out or walk out of the bathroom and just stare at his hands until he got the point that he should wash his hands. Or freeze in her tracks when she heard ice cubes drop into a glass fearing the end of the world or that maybe vodka would follow......'
'That's not funny.'
----- ----- ----- -----
Švejk was explaining: You see, it's not so hard to get in somewhere. Anyone can do that, but getting out again needs real military skill. When a chap gets in somewhere, he has to know about everything that's going on around him, so as not to find himself in a jam suddenly - what's called a catastrophe.
----- ----- ----- -----
Humbly report, Sir.
Švejk.
One buffoonerous episode...
follows another...
and another...
Yes, the drawings are in the book and add to the
People say this book has its roots in Don Quixote, but there's Shandian digressions, too, and, as a character, Švejk has plenty of Bartleby in him. But he's funnier, more complex, and wiser, much wiser, despite his protestations of idiocy. It's obviously credited as spawning Catch-22, and yes, it's an anti-war novel. But when a few almost-enlightened characters did a double-take, a facial tic of wonder if the imbecile might just be putting them on, I thought of Chauncey Gardiner too.
'Listen, Švejk, are you really God's prize oaf?'
'Humbly report, Sir,' Švejk answered solemnly, 'I am. Ever since I was little I have had bad luck like that.'
I was thinking of all these things, as I was almost done with the book, and the et ux and I decided to take a five-mile walk around a nearby lake. The path follows a roadway, one mile of which was under repair, a widening project, what they call it, which had been in progress for six months and was days from completion.
We walked as far as the section under repair. Years of parochial education have resulted in my following even the most pedantic of rules (and a good handful of the Ten Commandments, by the way), so I stopped us at the three big ROAD CLOSED signs. However, there is something about a freshly paved roadway, with brightly painted yellow and white lines. There was just some guardrail work being done. We asked some of the worker bees whether we could continue on and they couldn't think why not, and we couldn't think why not either, this being America and all. Can I have a little Woody Guthrie please!
As I went walking I saw a sign there
And on the sign it said "No Trespassing."
But on the other side it didn't say nothing,
That side was made for you and me.
Thank you.
And it was indeed a beautiful ribbon of highway. I tipped my cap to the workers, who tipped their caps back at me. All was well.
At about the halfway point through the 'construction area', a white pick-up truck with a flashing yellow light on top came speeding up from behind us, screeching to a stop at our side. What he said was, 'This is a NO TRESPASSING area!' but I think what he meant was Sir, you have rubbed the bloom off my virginity.
To which the et ux offered, 'My husband said it was okay.'
The officious man in the white pick-up truck now knew which guilty party to glare at. So, I offered, 'This reminds me of the time the et ux and I were driving back from Illinois and where the highway goes in a big circle around Indianapolis the speed limit went from 75 miles per hour to 55 miles per hour, with not enough warning, if you know what I mean. So I got pulled over. The local gendarme walked up to the car, identifying himself and explaining why he was compelled to stop me, only to be interrupted by the et ux, who leaned over to say, 'I told him to slow down!' My hands on the wheel, I waited for her to continue with 'but he never listens when he's drinking' but the hand of God must have stopped her.'
'You're a smart-aleck,' said the white pick-up truck.
'Humbly report, that view has its supporters, but then there's those that vote for feeble-minded. But anyway, baszom az anyát, baszom az istenet, baszom a Kristus Máriát, baszom az astyádot, baszom a világot.'
'What's your name?'
'Švejk.'
'Shvayk?'
'No, Švejk. Just like it's spelled.'
'You're not Shvayk.' (this from the et ux.)
'Well, you can't walk here.'
I decide to be quiet and let him figure this out. The sign on his door says FOLINO CONSTRUCTION and not MCCANDLESS TOWNSHIP POLICE DEPARTMENT. We are one-half mile from where we came and one-half mile from where we are going. We do not have a helicopter. The most ardent profiler could not perceive the two old people that we are as terrorists, nor is this new roadway likely on any Top 100 Infrastructure Thingies We'd Like to Blow Up List in Jihad Monthly. So, here we were, waiting for the man Mr. Folino thought enough of to let him have a spinning yellow light on top of his truck to figure this out. As Švejk would say, he had a well-developed talent for observation when it's already too late and some unpleasantness has happened.
We were let off with a warning.
We walked through the construction zone, and about a mile more in silence. Then the et ux said, 'You're writing a review, aren't you Mr. Shvayk?'
'Why yes I am. And it's Švejk.'
'That book with the cartoon on the cover?'
'Somewhat famous drawings by Josef Lada, but yes.'
'What's it about?'
'It's a satire, with a seeming bumbling idiot for a protagonist who goes on one misadventure after another, but with the clear purpose, if you read it correctly, of not getting anywhere near the front lines during World War I and getting himself killed.'
'A satire?'
'Yes. A satire. Which is tricky because the people who are spoofed in a satire are pretty much guaranteed not to see the humor in it. It reminds me of the guy who would be making dinner and his wife would walk behind him making sure he closed all the drawers he opened so that crumbs wouldn't fall in. Or would stand there when he returned from taking the garbage out or walk out of the bathroom and just stare at his hands until he got the point that he should wash his hands. Or freeze in her tracks when she heard ice cubes drop into a glass fearing the end of the world or that maybe vodka would follow......'
'That's not funny.'
----- ----- ----- -----
Švejk was explaining: You see, it's not so hard to get in somewhere. Anyone can do that, but getting out again needs real military skill. When a chap gets in somewhere, he has to know about everything that's going on around him, so as not to find himself in a jam suddenly - what's called a catastrophe.
----- ----- ----- -----
Humbly report, Sir.
July 26, 2018
Read this book ages ago thanks to my Dad to whom I am eternally grateful. Probably one of the best novels of the 20th century on war.
September 3, 2021
چه کمدی سیاهی. دنیای شوایک چه مضحک و حقیقی است. هجویهای برای تمسخر جنگ، تمسخر نظام و دولت، تمسخر من و شما. قبل از معرفی به جملهی مشهوری از برتولت برشت استناد میکنم :
"چنانچه لازم باشد از سه اثر نام ببریم که ادبیات جهانی قرن ما را آفریده اند, یکی از آنها بی تردید شوایک سرباز غیور است".
شوایک، نه قهرمان بلکه ضد قهرمان این کتاب، مرد میان سال ابلهی است که تا پیش از جنگ به سگ فروشی مشغول بوده و حال با شنیدن نوای جنگ، دست به هر کاری میزند که خود را به جبههی جنگ برساند و اتفاقات بعدی را رقم بزند. در این رمان طویل اما کسی صدای توپ و تفنگ نمی شنود. خبری از جان نثاریها و شهادتها و جراحتهای سنگین و بوی خون و استفراغ نیست. تمامی آن در به دریها و ماجراهای شوایک با مافوقها و گیج بازیهای مضحکش است.
اما چگونه کتابی طنز که حتی به توصیف دقیق از صحنهی جنگ هم نمیپردازد، در طول سالیان تبدیل به سمبل ضد جنگ و یکی از مهمترین دستاوردهای ادبیات و به بیش از پنجاه زبان ترجمه شده است؟
به عقیدهی من شوایک نه تنها نقدی به جنگ بلکه نقدی به جهان قرن بیستم است. انسانهایی منفعل، زود باور و گوش به فرمان که عقلشان دست بالا دستیها است و هر مضخرفی که آنها بگویند برایشان حجت است و در نهایت هم فکر میکنند مشغول سازندگی هستند غافل از اینکه دارند به همه چیز گند میزنند.
کافکا و هاشک، یوزف کا و یوزف شوایک :
کافکا و هاشک هر دو چک تبار بودند و بنا بر مقدمهی کتاب، رفیق. کافکا هرچه گوشهگیر و خجالتی بود، این یکی روز و شبش در بار ها به عرق خوری و معاشرت با دوستانش میگذشت. این شد که اولی محاکمه را نوشت و یوزف کا را آفرید و دومی دست به آفرینش یوزف شوایک زد. با وجود اختلاف سبک به عقیدهی من جهان این دو کتاب به شکل عجیبی با هم شباهت دارند. هر دو جهانی را توصیف میکنند که پیش از آنکه عجیب باشد، مضحک و ابزورد است. یک چیزی مثل همان دور باطل یا به قولی یک جای کار میلنگد. کما اینکه ما هیچ وقت به تحلیل نهایی این دو نابغه نم��رسیم ، چون هر دو اثر ناقص ماند. ( مهم ترین دلیلم برای چهار ستاره دادن )
حین خواندن شوایک شما ممکن است به بسیاری کارهای او بخندید، ولی بعد از خواندن آن کمی تعلل کنید. چند شوایک در دور و بر خود می بینید و خود چقدر نقش شوایک را بازی کردید؟
شوایک با وجود ناقص بودنش، مهمترین دستاورد ادبیات چک محسوب میشود که تبدیل به یک نماد در اروپای شرقی شده است. بسیاری آن ��ا رمانی تکان دهنده و دل نشین میپندارند که با نقاشیهای یوزف لادا ترکیب شده و شخصیتی به یادگار میگذارد که از یاد نخواهید برد ( امکان ندارد نقاشیهای لادا را ببینید و لبخند نزنید ). بسیاری از آن تاثیر گرفتهاند از جمله جوزف هلر که با نگاهی به این رمان ، تبصره ۲۲ را نوشت که خود تبدیل به نماد و مفهوم جدیدی در زبان انگلیسی شد ( که البته من این کتاب را نخواندهم ) و یا همین ایرج پزشکزاد خودمان و دایی جان ناپلئونش که این کتاب را بسیار دوست میدارد و بخش اول این رمان را هم ترجمه کرد و گویا برای خلق شخصیت مش قاسم نگاهی هم به شوایک انداخته.
من باب ترجمه هم بگویم که ترجمهی بسیار بسیار بی نظیر و شسته رفتهای داشت این آقای ظاهری. حتی اشعار و ترانهها را هم موزون درآورده بود و روی لهجهها و گویشهای تک تک افراد کار کرده بود و پاورقیهای خوبی هم داشت. شاید این کتاب برای ما به اندازه خود اهالی اروپای شرقی خندهدار نباشد، درست مثل دایی جان ما ولی تضمین میکنم که حین خواندنش لبخند از صورتتان محو نشود اگر به دقت بخوانید.
۱۴۰۰/۰۶/۱۱
"چنانچه لازم باشد از سه اثر نام ببریم که ادبیات جهانی قرن ما را آفریده اند, یکی از آنها بی تردید شوایک سرباز غیور است".
شوایک، نه قهرمان بلکه ضد قهرمان این کتاب، مرد میان سال ابلهی است که تا پیش از جنگ به سگ فروشی مشغول بوده و حال با شنیدن نوای جنگ، دست به هر کاری میزند که خود را به جبههی جنگ برساند و اتفاقات بعدی را رقم بزند. در این رمان طویل اما کسی صدای توپ و تفنگ نمی شنود. خبری از جان نثاریها و شهادتها و جراحتهای سنگین و بوی خون و استفراغ نیست. تمامی آن در به دریها و ماجراهای شوایک با مافوقها و گیج بازیهای مضحکش است.
اما چگونه کتابی طنز که حتی به توصیف دقیق از صحنهی جنگ هم نمیپردازد، در طول سالیان تبدیل به سمبل ضد جنگ و یکی از مهمترین دستاوردهای ادبیات و به بیش از پنجاه زبان ترجمه شده است؟
به عقیدهی من شوایک نه تنها نقدی به جنگ بلکه نقدی به جهان قرن بیستم است. انسانهایی منفعل، زود باور و گوش به فرمان که عقلشان دست بالا دستیها است و هر مضخرفی که آنها بگویند برایشان حجت است و در نهایت هم فکر میکنند مشغول سازندگی هستند غافل از اینکه دارند به همه چیز گند میزنند.
کافکا و هاشک، یوزف کا و یوزف شوایک :
کافکا و هاشک هر دو چک تبار بودند و بنا بر مقدمهی کتاب، رفیق. کافکا هرچه گوشهگیر و خجالتی بود، این یکی روز و شبش در بار ها به عرق خوری و معاشرت با دوستانش میگذشت. این شد که اولی محاکمه را نوشت و یوزف کا را آفرید و دومی دست به آفرینش یوزف شوایک زد. با وجود اختلاف سبک به عقیدهی من جهان این دو کتاب به شکل عجیبی با هم شباهت دارند. هر دو جهانی را توصیف میکنند که پیش از آنکه عجیب باشد، مضحک و ابزورد است. یک چیزی مثل همان دور باطل یا به قولی یک جای کار میلنگد. کما اینکه ما هیچ وقت به تحلیل نهایی این دو نابغه نم��رسیم ، چون هر دو اثر ناقص ماند. ( مهم ترین دلیلم برای چهار ستاره دادن )
حین خواندن شوایک شما ممکن است به بسیاری کارهای او بخندید، ولی بعد از خواندن آن کمی تعلل کنید. چند شوایک در دور و بر خود می بینید و خود چقدر نقش شوایک را بازی کردید؟
شوایک با وجود ناقص بودنش، مهمترین دستاورد ادبیات چک محسوب میشود که تبدیل به یک نماد در اروپای شرقی شده است. بسیاری آن ��ا رمانی تکان دهنده و دل نشین میپندارند که با نقاشیهای یوزف لادا ترکیب شده و شخصیتی به یادگار میگذارد که از یاد نخواهید برد ( امکان ندارد نقاشیهای لادا را ببینید و لبخند نزنید ). بسیاری از آن تاثیر گرفتهاند از جمله جوزف هلر که با نگاهی به این رمان ، تبصره ۲۲ را نوشت که خود تبدیل به نماد و مفهوم جدیدی در زبان انگلیسی شد ( که البته من این کتاب را نخواندهم ) و یا همین ایرج پزشکزاد خودمان و دایی جان ناپلئونش که این کتاب را بسیار دوست میدارد و بخش اول این رمان را هم ترجمه کرد و گویا برای خلق شخصیت مش قاسم نگاهی هم به شوایک انداخته.
من باب ترجمه هم بگویم که ترجمهی بسیار بسیار بی نظیر و شسته رفتهای داشت این آقای ظاهری. حتی اشعار و ترانهها را هم موزون درآورده بود و روی لهجهها و گویشهای تک تک افراد کار کرده بود و پاورقیهای خوبی هم داشت. شاید این کتاب برای ما به اندازه خود اهالی اروپای شرقی خندهدار نباشد، درست مثل دایی جان ما ولی تضمین میکنم که حین خواندنش لبخند از صورتتان محو نشود اگر به دقت بخوانید.
۱۴۰۰/۰۶/۱۱
August 9, 2022
“And somewhere from the dim ages of history the truth dawned upon Europe that the morrow would obliterate the plans of today.”
So more than twenty years after Czech-American Maria gave me a copy of this 1921 classic, I have finally read it and loved it. It’s a messy, episodic story of WWI; not a tale of the western front, but of the eastern front. Of course there is a long history of anti-war literature, but this story is the obvious precursor to other darkly satirical novels such as Joseph Heller’s Catch 22 and Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five, all farces indicting (especially) military and political leaders.
“Preparations for the slaughter of mankind have always been made in the name of God or some supposed higher being which men have devised and created in their own imagination.”
The Good Soldier Švejk is a rural naif, patriotic, quite simple, not questioning the military leadership that berates him regularly as an idiot--”Are you an idiot?!” “Yes, begging your pardon, sir. I am an idiot, I've been certified so!”
The humor is absurd and ultimately indicts military leadership as the true idiots, in the tradition of most war literature, but Švejk also is clearly some combination of clueless, too--he doesn’t know who Archduke Ferdinand is at all, and in the tradition of almost all of the poor folks we send to die in wars, he has no idea what the political situation is that has led to WWI--though he also on some occasions plays the fool to his benefit:
“Could you measure the diameter of the globe?"
"No, that I couldn't, sir," answered Švejk, "but now I'll ask you a riddle, gentlemen. There's a three-storied house with eight windows on each story. On the roof there are two gables and two chimneys. There are two tenants on each story. And now, gentlemen, I want you to tell me in what year the house porter's grandmother died?”
At one point a lieutenant tells Švejk to "attend to the needs" of a woman he is seeing:
“And so it came about that when the lieutenant returned from the barracks, the good soldier Švejk was able to inform him:
'Beg to report, sir, I carried out all the lady's wishes and treated her courteously, just as you instructed me.’
‘Thank you, Švejk,’ said the lieutenant. ‘And did she want many things done?’
‘About six,’ Švejk replied." (haha, good soldier, Švejk!)
At another point a sergeant suspects that Švejk may have deliberately given him a poisoned bottle of Schnapps, so he orders Švejk to drink it. And he does, as he always follows orders, this good soldier. The whole bottle!
Here’s another anecdote to help us understand his character:
Švejk's landlady tells him she is going to jump out the window, to which the good soldier replies: "If you want to jump out the window, go into the sitting room. I've opened the window for you. I wouldn't advise you to jump out of the kitchen window, because you'd fall on the rose bed in the garden, damage the bushes and have to pay for them. From the window in the sitting-room you'll fall beautifully on the pavement and if you're lucky you'll break your neck."
But this is the kind of humor you see early on; as Švejk gets closer to actual battle, the humor gets darker, more absurd (as is the case with Catch 22 and Slaughterhouse Five):
“The night spent in the detention barracks will always be one of Švejk's fondest memories. Next door to Number 16 was a cell for solitary confinement, a murky den from which issued, during that night, the wailing of a soldier who was locked up in it and whose ribs were being systematically broken for some disciplinary offence." (The presumption is that he is lucky not to be THAT guy).
"Švejk inspected the provost-marshal's office. The impression which it produced could scarcely be called a favorable one, especially with regard to the photographs on the walls. They were photographs of the various executions carried out by the army in Galicia and Serbia. Artistic photographs of cottages which had been burned down and of trees, the branches of which were burdened with hanging bodies. There was one particularly fine photograph from Serbia showing a whole family which had been hanged. A small boy with his father and mother. Two soldiers with bayonets were guarding the tree on which the execution had been carried out, and an officer was standing victoriously in the foreground smoking a cigarette.” (You begin to see how the humor gets darker, bleaker).
Švejk is constantly being sent to the wrong places and in the wrong direction throughout the tale, as he dutifully tries to get to the front, and is threatened with court martial for various offenses. It’s always military chaos, all the time. And as with Catch 22 and Slaughterhouse Five, it’s an ultimately devastatingly sad story, of course, considering millions were maimed and slaughtered. Oh, it's meandering, repetitive, messy, but it remains a classic satirical novel anyone would enjoy reading, as we experience yet another war (in Ukraine) “developed” by Our Esteemed and Unquestionably Wise Military, Political and Corporate “Leaders,” though perhaps military veterans would enjoy it most, nodding knowingly and sadly at the black humor.
So more than twenty years after Czech-American Maria gave me a copy of this 1921 classic, I have finally read it and loved it. It’s a messy, episodic story of WWI; not a tale of the western front, but of the eastern front. Of course there is a long history of anti-war literature, but this story is the obvious precursor to other darkly satirical novels such as Joseph Heller’s Catch 22 and Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five, all farces indicting (especially) military and political leaders.
“Preparations for the slaughter of mankind have always been made in the name of God or some supposed higher being which men have devised and created in their own imagination.”
The Good Soldier Švejk is a rural naif, patriotic, quite simple, not questioning the military leadership that berates him regularly as an idiot--”Are you an idiot?!” “Yes, begging your pardon, sir. I am an idiot, I've been certified so!”
The humor is absurd and ultimately indicts military leadership as the true idiots, in the tradition of most war literature, but Švejk also is clearly some combination of clueless, too--he doesn’t know who Archduke Ferdinand is at all, and in the tradition of almost all of the poor folks we send to die in wars, he has no idea what the political situation is that has led to WWI--though he also on some occasions plays the fool to his benefit:
“Could you measure the diameter of the globe?"
"No, that I couldn't, sir," answered Švejk, "but now I'll ask you a riddle, gentlemen. There's a three-storied house with eight windows on each story. On the roof there are two gables and two chimneys. There are two tenants on each story. And now, gentlemen, I want you to tell me in what year the house porter's grandmother died?”
At one point a lieutenant tells Švejk to "attend to the needs" of a woman he is seeing:
“And so it came about that when the lieutenant returned from the barracks, the good soldier Švejk was able to inform him:
'Beg to report, sir, I carried out all the lady's wishes and treated her courteously, just as you instructed me.’
‘Thank you, Švejk,’ said the lieutenant. ‘And did she want many things done?’
‘About six,’ Švejk replied." (haha, good soldier, Švejk!)
At another point a sergeant suspects that Švejk may have deliberately given him a poisoned bottle of Schnapps, so he orders Švejk to drink it. And he does, as he always follows orders, this good soldier. The whole bottle!
Here’s another anecdote to help us understand his character:
Švejk's landlady tells him she is going to jump out the window, to which the good soldier replies: "If you want to jump out the window, go into the sitting room. I've opened the window for you. I wouldn't advise you to jump out of the kitchen window, because you'd fall on the rose bed in the garden, damage the bushes and have to pay for them. From the window in the sitting-room you'll fall beautifully on the pavement and if you're lucky you'll break your neck."
But this is the kind of humor you see early on; as Švejk gets closer to actual battle, the humor gets darker, more absurd (as is the case with Catch 22 and Slaughterhouse Five):
“The night spent in the detention barracks will always be one of Švejk's fondest memories. Next door to Number 16 was a cell for solitary confinement, a murky den from which issued, during that night, the wailing of a soldier who was locked up in it and whose ribs were being systematically broken for some disciplinary offence." (The presumption is that he is lucky not to be THAT guy).
"Švejk inspected the provost-marshal's office. The impression which it produced could scarcely be called a favorable one, especially with regard to the photographs on the walls. They were photographs of the various executions carried out by the army in Galicia and Serbia. Artistic photographs of cottages which had been burned down and of trees, the branches of which were burdened with hanging bodies. There was one particularly fine photograph from Serbia showing a whole family which had been hanged. A small boy with his father and mother. Two soldiers with bayonets were guarding the tree on which the execution had been carried out, and an officer was standing victoriously in the foreground smoking a cigarette.” (You begin to see how the humor gets darker, bleaker).
Švejk is constantly being sent to the wrong places and in the wrong direction throughout the tale, as he dutifully tries to get to the front, and is threatened with court martial for various offenses. It’s always military chaos, all the time. And as with Catch 22 and Slaughterhouse Five, it’s an ultimately devastatingly sad story, of course, considering millions were maimed and slaughtered. Oh, it's meandering, repetitive, messy, but it remains a classic satirical novel anyone would enjoy reading, as we experience yet another war (in Ukraine) “developed” by Our Esteemed and Unquestionably Wise Military, Political and Corporate “Leaders,” though perhaps military veterans would enjoy it most, nodding knowingly and sadly at the black humor.
December 1, 2017
692. Osudy dobrého vojáka Švejka za světové války = The Good Soldier Švejk, Jaroslav Hašek
The Good Soldier Švejk (also spelled Schweik, Shveyk or Schwejk) is the abbreviated title of an unfinished satirical dark comedy novel by Jaroslav Hašek. The original Czech title of the work is Osudy dobrého vojáka Švejka za světové války, literally The Fateful Adventures of the Good Soldier Švejk During the World War.
تاریخ نخستین خوانش: یازدهم ماه آوریل سال 2008 میلادی
عنوان: شوایک سرباز پاکدل؛ نویسنده: یاروسلاو هاشک؛ مترجم: ایرج پزشکزاد؛ تهران، کتاب زمان؛ چاپ دوم تابستان 1383؛
زمان را کمی به عقب برمیگردانیم؛ سرباز«شوایک» دارد از دستشویی بیرون میآید. حالا کمرش را سفت میکند و وارد جنگ اول جهانی میشود! شوایک درست هنگامی که درد روماتیسمش عود کرده و مشغول مالیدن پماد به پای پر موی خویش است تصمیمش را میگیرد، که خود را برای جنگ آماده کند، و تا جان در بدن دارد با دشمن ملتش، ملت اتریش که بالای سر مردمان چک است بجنگد. ولی نبرد او، نبرد نیزه با نیزه نیست. نبرد صداقت با خشونت است. خشونتی ��ه ادعای دانایی دارد و کارهای بزرگ را در شأن خود میداند و آن کارهای بزرگ عبارتند از: دستور دادن، پول شمردن، نظم و ترتیب داشتن و مصدر داشتن. شوایک ما را به جنگ جهانی میبرد، و زمانیکه کلاه رنگارنگش را به سر گذاشته، و آن لباس پاره اش را به تن کرده، پرده های جنگ را به افتخار ما بیننده های خوشحال و آسوده، کنار میزند. و میگوید: با عرض بندگی به استحضارتان میرسانم که این خاطرات من است در زمان جنگ، زمانی که رشادتها و جان فدائیهای بسیار کردم. و بی وقفه خانة اربابم «سرکار ستوان لوکاش» را آب و جاروب میکردم، و به خانمهای ملاقات کننده، درس آداب و رفتار پس میدادم. آه... در آن روزهای پیروزی... . اگر رمان شوایک سرباز پاکدل را بخوانید، خودتان متوجه میشوید که با چه اعجوبه ای سر و کار دارید! این را هم بگویم که آرزوی نویسنده این بوده، که کلمة شوایک به معنی شخصی با خصوصیاتی خاص وارد فرهنگ لغت مردم «چک» شود. «من شوایک هستم» یک دوران بزرگ نیازمند مردان بزرگ است. قهرمانان ناشناخته بی سر و صدائی وجود دارند، که افتخارات ناپلئون را کسب نکرده اند، و مثل او وارد تاریخ نشده اند. معهذا خصوصیات روحی آنها به حدی غنی و پرمایه است، که حتی اسکندر کبیر را تحت الشعاع قرار میدهند. امروز در خیابانهای پراگ به مردی با سر و وضع نامرتب برمیخورید، که خود نمیداند چه نقش مهمی در تاریخ این دوران بزرگ جدید ایفا کرده است. آرام به راه خود میرود، بدون اینکه مزاحم کسی بشود، و یا اینکه روزنامه نگاران برای مصاحبه مزاحمش بشوند. اگر اسمش را بپرسید کاملا راحت و بدون تصنع جواب میدهد: «من شوایک هستم...» و این مرد کم حرف و بد لباس، کسی نیست جز «شوایک سرباز پاکدل» سابق، جنگجوی قهرمان و شجاع که در زمان سلطه ی اتریش، نامش مدام بر سر زبان اهالی «بوهم» بود. قهرمانی که بدون شک، از عزت و افتخار او در جمهوری تازه چکسلواکی کاسته نخواهد شد. شوایک سرباز پاکدل را بسیار دوست دارم. او مثل «اروسترات» سفیه، معبد «دیان» را آتش نزده است، تا نامش در جراید و کتابهای درسی کودکان بیاید. و این به گمانم به خودی خود بسیار زیباست
شوایک سرباز پاکدل / یاروسلاو هاشک / ایرج پزشکزاد / کتاب زمان / چاپ دوم / تابستان 1383؛
شوایک سرباز پاکدل / یاروسلاو هاشک / دی و بهمن 1385؛
رمان شوایک سه بار و به سه شکل متفاوت به فارسی ترجمه و منتشر شده. پیش از انقلاب «حسن قائمیان» بخشی از رمان را با عنوان «مصدر سرکار ستوان» ترجمه و منتشر کرد. سپس «ایرج پزشکزاد» بخش اول رمان را با عنوان «شوایک؛ سرباز پاک دل» توسط نشر زمان به چاپ رساند. نسخه کامل را «کمال ظاهری» که سالها در مجارستان زندگی کرده از زبان مجاری به فارسی برگردانده، و در 908 صفحه به نشر چشمه سپرده و به چاپ رسیده است. ا. شربیانی
The Good Soldier Švejk (also spelled Schweik, Shveyk or Schwejk) is the abbreviated title of an unfinished satirical dark comedy novel by Jaroslav Hašek. The original Czech title of the work is Osudy dobrého vojáka Švejka za světové války, literally The Fateful Adventures of the Good Soldier Švejk During the World War.
تاریخ نخستین خوانش: یازدهم ماه آوریل سال 2008 میلادی
عنوان: شوایک سرباز پاکدل؛ نویسنده: یاروسلاو هاشک؛ مترجم: ایرج پزشکزاد؛ تهران، کتاب زمان؛ چاپ دوم تابستان 1383؛
زمان را کمی به عقب برمیگردانیم؛ سرباز«شوایک» دارد از دستشویی بیرون میآید. حالا کمرش را سفت میکند و وارد جنگ اول جهانی میشود! شوایک درست هنگامی که درد روماتیسمش عود کرده و مشغول مالیدن پماد به پای پر موی خویش است تصمیمش را میگیرد، که خود را برای جنگ آماده کند، و تا جان در بدن دارد با دشمن ملتش، ملت اتریش که بالای سر مردمان چک است بجنگد. ولی نبرد او، نبرد نیزه با نیزه نیست. نبرد صداقت با خشونت است. خشونتی ��ه ادعای دانایی دارد و کارهای بزرگ را در شأن خود میداند و آن کارهای بزرگ عبارتند از: دستور دادن، پول شمردن، نظم و ترتیب داشتن و مصدر داشتن. شوایک ما را به جنگ جهانی میبرد، و زمانیکه کلاه رنگارنگش را به سر گذاشته، و آن لباس پاره اش را به تن کرده، پرده های جنگ را به افتخار ما بیننده های خوشحال و آسوده، کنار میزند. و میگوید: با عرض بندگی به استحضارتان میرسانم که این خاطرات من است در زمان جنگ، زمانی که رشادتها و جان فدائیهای بسیار کردم. و بی وقفه خانة اربابم «سرکار ستوان لوکاش» را آب و جاروب میکردم، و به خانمهای ملاقات کننده، درس آداب و رفتار پس میدادم. آه... در آن روزهای پیروزی... . اگر رمان شوایک سرباز پاکدل را بخوانید، خودتان متوجه میشوید که با چه اعجوبه ای سر و کار دارید! این را هم بگویم که آرزوی نویسنده این بوده، که کلمة شوایک به معنی شخصی با خصوصیاتی خاص وارد فرهنگ لغت مردم «چک» شود. «من شوایک هستم» یک دوران بزرگ نیازمند مردان بزرگ است. قهرمانان ناشناخته بی سر و صدائی وجود دارند، که افتخارات ناپلئون را کسب نکرده اند، و مثل او وارد تاریخ نشده اند. معهذا خصوصیات روحی آنها به حدی غنی و پرمایه است، که حتی اسکندر کبیر را تحت الشعاع قرار میدهند. امروز در خیابانهای پراگ به مردی با سر و وضع نامرتب برمیخورید، که خود نمیداند چه نقش مهمی در تاریخ این دوران بزرگ جدید ایفا کرده است. آرام به راه خود میرود، بدون اینکه مزاحم کسی بشود، و یا اینکه روزنامه نگاران برای مصاحبه مزاحمش بشوند. اگر اسمش را بپرسید کاملا راحت و بدون تصنع جواب میدهد: «من شوایک هستم...» و این مرد کم حرف و بد لباس، کسی نیست جز «شوایک سرباز پاکدل» سابق، جنگجوی قهرمان و شجاع که در زمان سلطه ی اتریش، نامش مدام بر سر زبان اهالی «بوهم» بود. قهرمانی که بدون شک، از عزت و افتخار او در جمهوری تازه چکسلواکی کاسته نخواهد شد. شوایک سرباز پاکدل را بسیار دوست دارم. او مثل «اروسترات» سفیه، معبد «دیان» را آتش نزده است، تا نامش در جراید و کتابهای درسی کودکان بیاید. و این به گمانم به خودی خود بسیار زیباست
شوایک سرباز پاکدل / یاروسلاو هاشک / ایرج پزشکزاد / کتاب زمان / چاپ دوم / تابستان 1383؛
شوایک سرباز پاکدل / یاروسلاو هاشک / دی و بهمن 1385؛
رمان شوایک سه بار و به سه شکل متفاوت به فارسی ترجمه و منتشر شده. پیش از انقلاب «حسن قائمیان» بخشی از رمان را با عنوان «مصدر سرکار ستوان» ترجمه و منتشر کرد. سپس «ایرج پزشکزاد» بخش اول رمان را با عنوان «شوایک؛ سرباز پاک دل» توسط نشر زمان به چاپ رساند. نسخه کامل را «کمال ظاهری» که سالها در مجارستان زندگی کرده از زبان مجاری به فارسی برگردانده، و در 908 صفحه به نشر چشمه سپرده و به چاپ رسیده است. ا. شربیانی
April 15, 2018
Дали добрият войник Швейк е изпечен тарикат или породисто говедо ще остане една от енигмите в световната литература. По този въпрос сам Швейк би разказал някоя съмнителна историйка, която ще ви накара да зяпнете от учудване пред глупостта му, и в крайна сметка да забравите какво изобщо ви се е въртяло в ума преди малко.
Швейк кротко се носи из страниците, а и из Първата световна война, с добродушното спокойствие (и умствения багаж) на едро преживно животно. Това обаче е по-скоро умела дегизировка. Всъщност той е направил откритие, което по важност се нарежда някъде между изобретенията на Едисън и Александър Бел, а именно – ако не можеш да надхитриш системата, то най-добре е д�� я надглупиш. Малко са ония, които няма да се стъписат при вида на по-голям тъпак от самите тях насреща си. Жаркото чувство за дълг на Йозеф Швейк под акомпанимента на несекващия му запас от локумести анекдоти разнебитва нервите на висшия ешелон. Сравненията с „Параграф 22“ и описания там абсурд на войната и злобност на офицерите, разбира се, са неминуеми. В романа на Хашек обаче простият войник не ще да играе безропотно ролята си на пушечно месо, вади белязано тесте от ръкава и на всичкото отгоре започва да блъфира. Защото живота ако не го измамиш, той лично се погрижва да те изпрати в авангарда.
Ярослав Хашек използва събирателни и хиперболизирани образи. Неговите персонажи са представители на типовете, които се срещат във всяка сбирщина от над трима души (без да броим кучето, ако трябва да си помогнем с Джеръм Джеръм). Ненаситният глад на Балоун е бич не само за него, но и за кифлите и лебервурста на началството, оня „особен род земноводно“ поручик Лукаш е женкар от класа (низка, но то и това е вид класа), а подпоручик Дуб е трънът в задниците на войниците, който упорито отказва да излезе откъдето се е заврял. Самият Швейк е хлъзгава сплав от приспособенчество със силно изразена жилка хитрост, може би капка овчедушие и отсянка на непокорство. Да си войник в „скапаната австрийска монархия“ и свръзка на тесногръди дръвници не е за всеки, но с често буквалистичното изпълнение на дадените му заповеди и с нелепиците си Швейк елегантно докарва почти до апоплектичен бяс офицерството. Не е важно как отърваш наказанията и несгодите, важното е да си му намерил колая.
Вместо заключение и с едно-две уточнения: „Приключенията на добрия войник Швейк“ е пиперлива сатира, която взима на подбив военщината и цялостното безумство, наречено „война“. Ярослав Хашек завещава на чешкия език нарицателното „швейковщина“, което ще рече най-общо ентусиазъм, обрамчен с весела имбецилност. Самият Хашек е бил анархист, служил е в австро-унгарската армия и е срещнал там доста от прототипите на персонажите си, та определено не е голословен и е успял да им придаде пълнокръвие. Прочетете за Швейк и се посмейте на брътвежите му и на кашите, които забърква. И имайте едно наум за войната. Винаги. Аз само за едно нещо съжалих накрая – че така и не успях да опозная подпоручик Дуб откъм опакото…
Швейк кротко се носи из страниците, а и из Първата световна война, с добродушното спокойствие (и умствения багаж) на едро преживно животно. Това обаче е по-скоро умела дегизировка. Всъщност той е направил откритие, което по важност се нарежда някъде между изобретенията на Едисън и Александър Бел, а именно – ако не можеш да надхитриш системата, то най-добре е д�� я надглупиш. Малко са ония, които няма да се стъписат при вида на по-голям тъпак от самите тях насреща си. Жаркото чувство за дълг на Йозеф Швейк под акомпанимента на несекващия му запас от локумести анекдоти разнебитва нервите на висшия ешелон. Сравненията с „Параграф 22“ и описания там абсурд на войната и злобност на офицерите, разбира се, са неминуеми. В романа на Хашек обаче простият войник не ще да играе безропотно ролята си на пушечно месо, вади белязано тесте от ръкава и на всичкото отгоре започва да блъфира. Защото живота ако не го измамиш, той лично се погрижва да те изпрати в авангарда.
Ярослав Хашек използва събирателни и хиперболизирани образи. Неговите персонажи са представители на типовете, които се срещат във всяка сбирщина от над трима души (без да броим кучето, ако трябва да си помогнем с Джеръм Джеръм). Ненаситният глад на Балоун е бич не само за него, но и за кифлите и лебервурста на началството, оня „особен род земноводно“ поручик Лукаш е женкар от класа (низка, но то и това е вид класа), а подпоручик Дуб е трънът в задниците на войниците, който упорито отказва да излезе откъдето се е заврял. Самият Швейк е хлъзгава сплав от приспособенчество със силно изразена жилка хитрост, може би капка овчедушие и отсянка на непокорство. Да си войник в „скапаната австрийска монархия“ и свръзка на тесногръди дръвници не е за всеки, но с често буквалистичното изпълнение на дадените му заповеди и с нелепиците си Швейк елегантно докарва почти до апоплектичен бяс офицерството. Не е важно как отърваш наказанията и несгодите, важното е да си му намерил колая.
Вместо заключение и с едно-две уточнения: „Приключенията на добрия войник Швейк“ е пиперлива сатира, която взима на подбив военщината и цялостното безумство, наречено „война“. Ярослав Хашек завещава на чешкия език нарицателното „швейковщина“, което ще рече най-общо ентусиазъм, обрамчен с весела имбецилност. Самият Хашек е бил анархист, служил е в австро-унгарската армия и е срещнал там доста от прототипите на персонажите си, та определено не е голословен и е успял да им придаде пълнокръвие. Прочетете за Швейк и се посмейте на брътвежите му и на кашите, които забърква. И имайте едно наум за войната. Винаги. Аз само за едно нещо съжалих накрая – че така и не успях да опозная подпоручик Дуб откъм опакото…
December 5, 2022
بدک نیست
داستان یک آدم خُلی هستش که طی یک ماجرایی میزنه و میره جنگ. و خوب اتفاقات خندهدار و مضحکی که طی داستان رقم میخوره که در اصل اعتراضی هست به احمقانه بودن جنگ و مشق و نظام. نویسنده که خودش در جنگ جهانی اول در جبهه اتریش مجارستان حضور داشته، ظاهرا شخصیتها رو تا حد زیادی تحت تاثیر تجارب خودش پرداخت کرده. متاسفانه نویسنده فوت میشه و کتاب که ابتدا قرار بود 6 جلد باشه، ناتمام میمونه.
سر جمع بخوام بگم، کتاب سرگرمکننده و خندهداری هست. ولی اینکه بخواید توش دنبال تیکهطعنههای آنچنانی بگردید یا مفاهیم ضدجنگ بخصوصی توش داشته باشه، نه اصلا. از نظر من اصلا آنچنان که ازش تعریف میکنن مایهای نداره. ولی خوب سرگرم کننده است. به همون اندازه که "ماجراهای تنتن" میتونه سرگرمکننده باشه. ولی میگم چیز بخصوصی برای من نداشت که چشمم رو بگیره مگر ترجمه بینظیر کتاب که به جرات میتونم بگم بهترین ترجمهای بوده که تا حالا دیدم. قیافهی "به من مگوزی" آخه؟! :))))) ا
داستان یک آدم خُلی هستش که طی یک ماجرایی میزنه و میره جنگ. و خوب اتفاقات خندهدار و مضحکی که طی داستان رقم میخوره که در اصل اعتراضی هست به احمقانه بودن جنگ و مشق و نظام. نویسنده که خودش در جنگ جهانی اول در جبهه اتریش مجارستان حضور داشته، ظاهرا شخصیتها رو تا حد زیادی تحت تاثیر تجارب خودش پرداخت کرده. متاسفانه نویسنده فوت میشه و کتاب که ابتدا قرار بود 6 جلد باشه، ناتمام میمونه.
سر جمع بخوام بگم، کتاب سرگرمکننده و خندهداری هست. ولی اینکه بخواید توش دنبال تیکهطعنههای آنچنانی بگردید یا مفاهیم ضدجنگ بخصوصی توش داشته باشه، نه اصلا. از نظر من اصلا آنچنان که ازش تعریف میکنن مایهای نداره. ولی خوب سرگرم کننده است. به همون اندازه که "ماجراهای تنتن" میتونه سرگرمکننده باشه. ولی میگم چیز بخصوصی برای من نداشت که چشمم رو بگیره مگر ترجمه بینظیر کتاب که به جرات میتونم بگم بهترین ترجمهای بوده که تا حالا دیدم. قیافهی "به من مگوزی" آخه؟! :))))) ا
September 24, 2016
Jaroslav Hašek was an anarchist and anarchy runs through The Good Soldier Švejk like a stick of rock. It's anti-war, anti-establishment, anti-religion and, some say, even funnier than Catch-22. Apparently Joseph Heller based his hero Yossarian on Švejk. I read Catch-22 far too long ago to make a valid comparison. Oh, and Bertholt Brecht declared it the greatest book of the twentieth century. And, I can confirm, it really is quite something....
This Penguin Classics edition of The Good Soldier Švejk contains an informative introduction by Cecil Parrott which made me want to read a biography of Jaroslav Hašek. Helpfully, Cecil Parrott has written one: The Bad Bohemian: A Life Of Jaroslav Hašek Creator Of The Good Soldier Švejk.
Before starting I was little daunted by the book's heft. It's 752 pages and that's not including the introduction. However, I needn't have worried: it's highly readable, very addictive, full of wonderfully distinctive and pleasing cartoon-like illustrations, and I was regularly reading 50 pages at a time.
The book opens with the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand where Švejk, a Czech living in Prague, immediately realises the significance of the assassination despite some initial confusion about which Ferdinand has been killed…
‘Which Ferdinand, Mrs Müller?’ asked Švejk, continuing to massage his knees. ‘I know two Ferdinands. One of them does jobs for Prusa the chemist, and one day he drank a bottle of hair oil by mistake; and then there’s Ferdinand Kokoska who goes round collecting manure. They wouldn’t be any great loss, either of ‘em.’ ‘No, it’s the Archduke Ferdinand, the one from Konopiste, you know, the fat, pious one.’
The Good Soldier Švejk is chock full of subversive humour and peppered with mad major-generals, hard-drinking priests, lecherous officers, all of whom operate in an absurd, imperialist world. Jaroslav Hašek combines amusing wordplay and piercing satire in this very funny depiction of the futility of war. I suspect this book is also an accurate depiction of the moral bankruptcy of the Austro-Hungarian empire.
Švejk is a hapless, apparently guileless everyman who gets embroiled in the state’s bureaucratic machinery and yet, through his feigned stupidity, always manages to subvert those in authority to emerge unscathed whilst leaving chaos in his wake. Peter Sellers would have made a perfect screen version of Švejk and, coincidentally, Sellers used quotes from Švejk in his film 'A Shot in the Dark’.
Švejk is constantly reducing officers to despair with his homely analogies and rambling anecdotes, not least the long suffering Lieutenant Lukáš who develops something of a love-hate relationship with Švejk. Švejk's idiocy however is, perhaps, his way of dealing with an insane world fighting an insane war. It is all a ploy. By constantly becoming embroiled in tine consuming investigations about his conduct, so his arrival at the front line is further delayed. He is also a prankster whose genius is that he subverts the authoritarian world as much for its own sake as for any other reason. His humour and apparent imbecility rendering him indestructible. No wonder he's such an enduring character.
Josef Lada’s illustrations are one of the many delights of this book. Josef Lada (1887-1957) was a Czech painter and writer, however he is best known for illustrating this book. His cartoons are very simple but add another level of enjoyment to the book. He really captures the essence of Švejk’s simple charm and also the self-importance of some of the more senior officers. Click here to view some examples.
Jaroslav Hašek died having completed four of the six proposed books, which - had he lived to finish it - would have made this tome even heftier, and therein lies my only criticism, due to its episodic structure The Good Soldier Švejk can occasionally be too rambling and repetitive however, read on a few pages, and there's another amusing scene to enjoy.
This is an account of World War One far removed from heroism and honour, and which focuses more on idiotic, patriotic officers, drunk priests, skiving, conniving, brutality, boozing, death and the harsh reality of a moribund, unpopular Empire for those trying to survive at the bottom of the heap. The Good Soldier Švejk is a book which deserves to be more celebrated and widely read (outside the Czech republic where it is considered a classic). Jaroslav Hašek humorously shines an illuminating light on the experience of ordinary people whilst seismic historical events negatively impact their lives and so consequently inspires justifiable suspicion of patriotism, bureaucratic careerism and authoritarianism. All such nonsense is best mocked. The Good Soldier Švejk's truths are perhaps more relevant than ever.
This Penguin Classics edition of The Good Soldier Švejk contains an informative introduction by Cecil Parrott which made me want to read a biography of Jaroslav Hašek. Helpfully, Cecil Parrott has written one: The Bad Bohemian: A Life Of Jaroslav Hašek Creator Of The Good Soldier Švejk.
Before starting I was little daunted by the book's heft. It's 752 pages and that's not including the introduction. However, I needn't have worried: it's highly readable, very addictive, full of wonderfully distinctive and pleasing cartoon-like illustrations, and I was regularly reading 50 pages at a time.
The book opens with the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand where Švejk, a Czech living in Prague, immediately realises the significance of the assassination despite some initial confusion about which Ferdinand has been killed…
‘Which Ferdinand, Mrs Müller?’ asked Švejk, continuing to massage his knees. ‘I know two Ferdinands. One of them does jobs for Prusa the chemist, and one day he drank a bottle of hair oil by mistake; and then there’s Ferdinand Kokoska who goes round collecting manure. They wouldn’t be any great loss, either of ‘em.’ ‘No, it’s the Archduke Ferdinand, the one from Konopiste, you know, the fat, pious one.’
The Good Soldier Švejk is chock full of subversive humour and peppered with mad major-generals, hard-drinking priests, lecherous officers, all of whom operate in an absurd, imperialist world. Jaroslav Hašek combines amusing wordplay and piercing satire in this very funny depiction of the futility of war. I suspect this book is also an accurate depiction of the moral bankruptcy of the Austro-Hungarian empire.
Švejk is a hapless, apparently guileless everyman who gets embroiled in the state’s bureaucratic machinery and yet, through his feigned stupidity, always manages to subvert those in authority to emerge unscathed whilst leaving chaos in his wake. Peter Sellers would have made a perfect screen version of Švejk and, coincidentally, Sellers used quotes from Švejk in his film 'A Shot in the Dark’.
Švejk is constantly reducing officers to despair with his homely analogies and rambling anecdotes, not least the long suffering Lieutenant Lukáš who develops something of a love-hate relationship with Švejk. Švejk's idiocy however is, perhaps, his way of dealing with an insane world fighting an insane war. It is all a ploy. By constantly becoming embroiled in tine consuming investigations about his conduct, so his arrival at the front line is further delayed. He is also a prankster whose genius is that he subverts the authoritarian world as much for its own sake as for any other reason. His humour and apparent imbecility rendering him indestructible. No wonder he's such an enduring character.
Josef Lada’s illustrations are one of the many delights of this book. Josef Lada (1887-1957) was a Czech painter and writer, however he is best known for illustrating this book. His cartoons are very simple but add another level of enjoyment to the book. He really captures the essence of Švejk’s simple charm and also the self-importance of some of the more senior officers. Click here to view some examples.
Jaroslav Hašek died having completed four of the six proposed books, which - had he lived to finish it - would have made this tome even heftier, and therein lies my only criticism, due to its episodic structure The Good Soldier Švejk can occasionally be too rambling and repetitive however, read on a few pages, and there's another amusing scene to enjoy.
This is an account of World War One far removed from heroism and honour, and which focuses more on idiotic, patriotic officers, drunk priests, skiving, conniving, brutality, boozing, death and the harsh reality of a moribund, unpopular Empire for those trying to survive at the bottom of the heap. The Good Soldier Švejk is a book which deserves to be more celebrated and widely read (outside the Czech republic where it is considered a classic). Jaroslav Hašek humorously shines an illuminating light on the experience of ordinary people whilst seismic historical events negatively impact their lives and so consequently inspires justifiable suspicion of patriotism, bureaucratic careerism and authoritarianism. All such nonsense is best mocked. The Good Soldier Švejk's truths are perhaps more relevant than ever.
July 20, 2018
So many composers have translated stories into music. I was thinking that if this story could be translated into an operetta, or even a cabaret, it would become a medley of innocence, honesty, madness, brutality and a world happily going mad, while we, the audience, laugh ourselves to death, merrily tapping our feet to the rhythm of the orchestra.
I had the same feeling and reaction when I read Captain Corelli's Mandolin by Louis de Berniers. And then later on with 100-year-old Man Who Climbed Out The Window And Disappeared by Jonas Jonasson.
The absurdity makes you laugh, while the situation makes you cringe. To top it off, the story is based on true events, as related by the author after WWI.
The author introduced his main character in the preface as the hero of an epoch. An ordinary modest unrecognized man in the streets of Prague, who did more for the war than men such as Napoleon. His heroism even overshadowed Alexander The Great. If you would ask his name, he would answer in simple and modest tone: "I am Svejk."
He was the talk of all citizens in the Kingdom of Bohemia when they were still under Austrian rule. His glory will never pass away.
Svejk, the Czech, burst onto the scene when he decided to join the Austrian Hungarian Army. But like a more contemporary Mr. Bean, he had the knack to turn any situation into something bizarrely, and often annoyingly, funny. He will be called a prize lunatic, a thorough-paced rascal, double-dyed blithering idiot, a prize ass, a thickheaded booby, lousy skunk, a blithering jackass, a ghastly idiot, a God-forsaken idiot, a freak of nature, a fat-headed lout, a devil of nuisance, a brainless booby, a degenerate. He was officially diagnosed as feeble-minded from his previous stint in the army, and developed arthritis in the meantime. Yet, it did not hamper his desire to be a loyal soldier and report for service when the First World War broke out.
Svjek had the gift of the gab to talk himself into, and then out of trouble, with a vast trove of memories he used in confirming his good-natured, kindness. He had a touching air of gentleness with which he drove people to acts of cruelty or kindness against him. But with his optimistic psyche firmly in place, he always experienced these acts as superb hospitality or professional conduct of some kind.
If historical fiction is your religion, and the genre's authors your sect, this unique book, 1st published in 1921, is a must-read. Your faith might be woefully challenged by the sheer brilliance of combining comedy with tragedy to create this kind of satirical wonder-work or masterpiece. Venturesome, boundary-pushing elements elevate this book into the realm of classic excellence, which sadly, are often ignored and replaced by the mundane, the poor airborne nothingness, being pushed to the top by publishers. This book is a once in a lifetime experience.
It is indeed an early introduction to the literature of the postmodernism in which everything is questioned, ridiculed, protested. In this case it is the futility of war, the almost blasphemous rebellion against religious hypocrisy, and the tragedy of an over-sized bureaucracy. Just about everything is made fun of.
It was a difficult read due to the brutality and cruelty portrayed in The Good Soldier Svjek. For sensitive readers the metatheatrical irreverence with which religion is handled might be experienced as bad-taste humor. However, the cheerful irony, and sharp satire pulled me through. I just realized how unique this book was.
There's no novel structure to the tale. It is more like a combination of anecdotes, or events, being tied together by a few continuous characters, while others disappeared along the way. The ending was blunt. However, the overall idea and message in this epoch is more important, and therefor no stars are lost.
RECOMMENDED.
I had the same feeling and reaction when I read Captain Corelli's Mandolin by Louis de Berniers. And then later on with 100-year-old Man Who Climbed Out The Window And Disappeared by Jonas Jonasson.
The absurdity makes you laugh, while the situation makes you cringe. To top it off, the story is based on true events, as related by the author after WWI.
The author introduced his main character in the preface as the hero of an epoch. An ordinary modest unrecognized man in the streets of Prague, who did more for the war than men such as Napoleon. His heroism even overshadowed Alexander The Great. If you would ask his name, he would answer in simple and modest tone: "I am Svejk."
He was the talk of all citizens in the Kingdom of Bohemia when they were still under Austrian rule. His glory will never pass away.
Svejk, the Czech, burst onto the scene when he decided to join the Austrian Hungarian Army. But like a more contemporary Mr. Bean, he had the knack to turn any situation into something bizarrely, and often annoyingly, funny. He will be called a prize lunatic, a thorough-paced rascal, double-dyed blithering idiot, a prize ass, a thickheaded booby, lousy skunk, a blithering jackass, a ghastly idiot, a God-forsaken idiot, a freak of nature, a fat-headed lout, a devil of nuisance, a brainless booby, a degenerate. He was officially diagnosed as feeble-minded from his previous stint in the army, and developed arthritis in the meantime. Yet, it did not hamper his desire to be a loyal soldier and report for service when the First World War broke out.
Svjek had the gift of the gab to talk himself into, and then out of trouble, with a vast trove of memories he used in confirming his good-natured, kindness. He had a touching air of gentleness with which he drove people to acts of cruelty or kindness against him. But with his optimistic psyche firmly in place, he always experienced these acts as superb hospitality or professional conduct of some kind.
If historical fiction is your religion, and the genre's authors your sect, this unique book, 1st published in 1921, is a must-read. Your faith might be woefully challenged by the sheer brilliance of combining comedy with tragedy to create this kind of satirical wonder-work or masterpiece. Venturesome, boundary-pushing elements elevate this book into the realm of classic excellence, which sadly, are often ignored and replaced by the mundane, the poor airborne nothingness, being pushed to the top by publishers. This book is a once in a lifetime experience.
It is indeed an early introduction to the literature of the postmodernism in which everything is questioned, ridiculed, protested. In this case it is the futility of war, the almost blasphemous rebellion against religious hypocrisy, and the tragedy of an over-sized bureaucracy. Just about everything is made fun of.
It was a difficult read due to the brutality and cruelty portrayed in The Good Soldier Svjek. For sensitive readers the metatheatrical irreverence with which religion is handled might be experienced as bad-taste humor. However, the cheerful irony, and sharp satire pulled me through. I just realized how unique this book was.
Then an orderly arrived with a packet containing a communication to notify the Chaplain that on the next day the administration of extreme unction at the hospital would be attended by the "Society of Genteel Ladies for the Religious Training of Soldiers." This society consisted of hysterical old women and it supplied the soldiers in hospital with images of saints and tales about the Catholic warrior who dies for his Emperor. On the cover of the book containing these tales was a coloured picture, representing a battlefield. Corpses of men and horses, overturned munition wagons and cannon with the limber in the air, were scattered about on all sides. On the horizon a village was burning and shrapnel was bursting, while in the foreground lay a dying soldier, with his leg torn off, and above him an angel descended with a wreath bearing this inscription on a piece of ribbon: "This day thou shalt be with Me in paradise." And the dying soldier smiled blissfully, as if they were bringing him ice cream.It is certainly not a book for everyone, since it is also written in the literary idiom of the 1920s and requires patience to venture through. But it is one of those gems, like The Story of Ebenezer Le Page by G.B. Edwards, that demands a prominent position on the 'favorite' shelves for many readers.
There's no novel structure to the tale. It is more like a combination of anecdotes, or events, being tied together by a few continuous characters, while others disappeared along the way. The ending was blunt. However, the overall idea and message in this epoch is more important, and therefor no stars are lost.
RECOMMENDED.
March 25, 2009
The first time I read this book, as a teenager, I could not see the point. So I put it down without finishing it. Now I see it as one of the great books. The character of Svejk is straight out of folklore. He is the foolish man who somehow kills the giant, gets the princess and claims the gold. Except that here is no fairy tale, but a story of war and a story of bureaucrats and officialdom.
Specifically, we at first witness Svejk, a bumbling lower class oaf who has been recruited into the army, and who, in consequence, daily encounters a sequence of bumbling upper class oafs, his officers. These latter individuals are running a totally disastrous war, the Great War for Civilization, which is destroying their own country of Austria Hungary.
Svejk, however, is not moderately stupid. He is very very stupid. Indeed, he is so very stupid that he somehow manages to keep himself out of trouble and out of danger. Gradually, we wonder whether Svejk might actually be quite a clever man, who knows how to handle himself in the face of arbitrary power, bureaucracy and bone-headed idiocy. Finally, because the war's stupidity is actually quite a serious matter, we make another discovery. By an imperceptible transmogrification, Svejk ceases even to appear to the reader as a fool. Instead, we discover him to be a quiet, intelligent hero, the model, indeed for the Czechoslovak hero who emerged from the old Empire to found a new society.
Specifically, we at first witness Svejk, a bumbling lower class oaf who has been recruited into the army, and who, in consequence, daily encounters a sequence of bumbling upper class oafs, his officers. These latter individuals are running a totally disastrous war, the Great War for Civilization, which is destroying their own country of Austria Hungary.
Svejk, however, is not moderately stupid. He is very very stupid. Indeed, he is so very stupid that he somehow manages to keep himself out of trouble and out of danger. Gradually, we wonder whether Svejk might actually be quite a clever man, who knows how to handle himself in the face of arbitrary power, bureaucracy and bone-headed idiocy. Finally, because the war's stupidity is actually quite a serious matter, we make another discovery. By an imperceptible transmogrification, Svejk ceases even to appear to the reader as a fool. Instead, we discover him to be a quiet, intelligent hero, the model, indeed for the Czechoslovak hero who emerged from the old Empire to found a new society.
Read
February 24, 2016شوایک، مرد ساده دل و پرحرفی است که به علت احمق بودن از سربازی معاف شده اما با شروع جنگ جهانی اول تصمیم میگیرد برود و در جبهه بجنگد. هاشک این کتاب را ابتدا به صورت جزوههای جدایی منتشر میکرد و میفروخت. در بخشهایی از کتاب خود نویسنده نیز وارد میشود و توضیحاتی در مورد کتاب و برخی از اتفاقهای واقعی جنگ میدهد. شوایک یکی از مهمترین و معروفترین کتابهای طنز قرن بیستم است. هاشک قبل از کامل کردن کتابش میمیرد.
متاسفانه نتوانستم تمامش کنم و از اواسط کتاب ولش کردم. با اینکه خواندنش را برای خودم واجب کرده بودم و داستانهایش هم طنز بود و اتفاقا طنز خوبی هم داشت اما از یک جایی به بعد ماجراهایش برایم تکراری میشد. به نظرم قسمتی از طنز کتاب هم به دلیل ترجمه و آشنا نبودن به جزییات فرهنگ چکِ صد سال پیش از بین رفته بود. با این حال نگاهِ ضد جنگ هاشک و دستانداخ��ن قدرتهای نظامی و مذهبی را دوست داشتم.
پ.ن: قسمت اول شوایک را «ایرج پزشکزاد» نیز ترجمه کرده. حتی برخی اعتقاد دارند که شخصیت «مش قاسم» در «دایی جان ناپلئون» از روی شخصیت «شوایک» گرفته شده است. برتولت برشت نیز با اقتباس از این کتاب نمایشنامهای دارد به نام «شوایک در جنگ جهانی دوم»
متاسفانه نتوانستم تمامش کنم و از اواسط کتاب ولش کردم. با اینکه خواندنش را برای خودم واجب کرده بودم و داستانهایش هم طنز بود و اتفاقا طنز خوبی هم داشت اما از یک جایی به بعد ماجراهایش برایم تکراری میشد. به نظرم قسمتی از طنز کتاب هم به دلیل ترجمه و آشنا نبودن به جزییات فرهنگ چکِ صد سال پیش از بین رفته بود. با این حال نگاهِ ضد جنگ هاشک و دستانداخ��ن قدرتهای نظامی و مذهبی را دوست داشتم.
پ.ن: قسمت اول شوایک را «ایرج پزشکزاد» نیز ترجمه کرده. حتی برخی اعتقاد دارند که شخصیت «مش قاسم» در «دایی جان ناپلئون» از روی شخصیت «شوایک» گرفته شده است. برتولت برشت نیز با اقتباس از این کتاب نمایشنامهای دارد به نام «شوایک در جنگ جهانی دوم»
November 15, 2023
I remember reading this (probably an unbridged version) when I was a pre-teen and laughing with tears. I was happy years later to find the paperback in English this time. I have the bad habit of neglecting the books I own in favour of the many library books I borrow.
Upon noticing the audiobook on a library app, I thought I should try it again.
I can't say I paid close attention throughout, the narrator didn't exactly appeal to me that much not to mention there were glitches and paragraphs were repeated occasionally, a first for this audiobook consumer.
While I didn't laugh with tears, this was nevertheless amusing and quite the feat for its time.
Satire and war can be good battle companions.
Upon noticing the audiobook on a library app, I thought I should try it again.
I can't say I paid close attention throughout, the narrator didn't exactly appeal to me that much not to mention there were glitches and paragraphs were repeated occasionally, a first for this audiobook consumer.
While I didn't laugh with tears, this was nevertheless amusing and quite the feat for its time.
Satire and war can be good battle companions.
September 21, 2019
À l'entrée dans la Grande Guerre, l'Empire d'Autriche-Hongrie est une vaste blague que le bonhomme Chvéïk est le seul à prendre au sérieux, l'innocent. C'est tout son malheur.
Charlie Chaplin, Les Temps Modernes (1936)
1. UNE SATIRE À L'HUMOUR FÉROCE
Qu'on l'interroge, qu'on le menace, qu'on le rudoie, en toute candeur, le bavard Chvéïk disserte, compare et rapporte tout à des exemples à lui : des potins ou la première rumeur qu'il attrape. Son bon sens relativise tout, nivelle tout. En les mettant face à leur absurdité, il démonte toute autorité, toute convention de la guerre. Comme un miroir qui ne réfléchirait que leurs ridicules les plus énormes.
2. UNE CHARGE TERRIBLE CONTRE LA RELIGION D'ÉTAT ET LA GUERRE :
Il y a des chapitres vraiment impayables dans cette histoire :) J'ai une pensée pour les dialogues épiques entre l'aumônier arsouille et Chvéïk l'innocent, devenu son aide... :)
C'est ensuite la messe qui est sans arrêt tournée en ridicule. Un jour que l'aumônier Katz a perdu plusieurs pièces de son mobilier liturgique (aux cartes ?), Chvéïk et lui improvisent des objets de culte : une coupe de sport fera bien l'affaire pour le calice, et puis l'huile de chènevis d'un magasin de peinture pour l'huile bénite. Pour achever de confondre l'auditoire, la messe se fait à coups de sifflements pour que Chvéïk suive bien son rôle d'enfant de chœur, en rythme.
La religion instituée, c'est aussi ce qui encadre et cautionne la guerre, en faisant une mission du chrétien. Jaroslav Hašek ne mâche pas ses mots devant une religion d'État servile et prête à tous les accommodements :
3. CHVÉÏK L'INNOCENT : LA SUBVERSION INCARNÉE OU L'IMAGE DE LA RÉSISTANCE NON-VIOLENTE ?
Rusé naïf, roué de bonne foi ('pour vous faire plaisir', dit-il à l'aumônier Katz et au lieutenant Lucas), Josef Chvéïk est un mélange admirable de bon sens et d'énormités. Par un air dégagé et des paroles franches, qui prennent l'air d'insinuations ironiques, il tourne à la blague toutes les conventions qui ont cours sous l'Autriche-Hongrie pendant la Grande Guerre.
Bavard candide, pour toutes les formes d'autorité, il est impertinent et intolérable sans chercher à l'être. Bref, il parle des Habits neufs de l'empereur avec une tranquillité, un dégagement et une candeur superbes.
( Les Habits Neufs de L'Empereur ).
4. POUR LE PLAISIR, UN EXTRAIT DU CHAPITRE DANS L'ASILE DE FOUS
5. UN MOT SUR L'AUTEUR :
Jaroslav Hašek a lui-même été incorporé dans l'armée autrichienne en 1915. Il est pris par les Russes, puis à leur capitulation, il passe dans une organisation pour l'indépendance tchèque.
Marchand de chiens, journaliste anarchiste, fondateur du 'Parti du lent progrès dans les limites de la loi' et écrivain errant, son œuvre n'a pas reçu une reconnaissance unanime de son vivant et ce n'est que très récemment que cette histoire a été reconnue à sa juste importance.
DES IDÉES DE LECTURES ASSEZ PROCHES DANS LE TON:
Livre de la Voie Et de la Vertu: Tao Te King
Candide
La Plaisanterie
Charlie Chaplin, Les Temps Modernes (1936)
'– Je m’en vais faire la guerre, répondit Chvéïk d’une voix sépulcrale, l’Autriche est dans un pétrin abominable. (...) et voilà pourquoi l’Empereur m’appelle sous le drapeau.
J’ai lu hier dans les journaux que de sombres nuées s’amassaient à l’horizon de notre chère Autriche-Hongrie.
– Mais puisque vous ne pouvez pas bouger, M’sieur le patron ?
– C’est pas un prétexte pour manquer à son devoir, M’ame Muller. Je me ferai pousser en petite voiture. Vous connaissez le confiseur du coin de notre rue? Eh bien, il en a, un petit truc comme ça. Il y a quelques années, il s’en servait pour faire prendre le frais à son grand-père. Vous irez le voir de ma part, et vous lui demanderez de me prêter sa voiture, et vous me roulerez devant ces messieurs.
(...)
'Une vieille femme poussait devant elle un ancien triporteur occupé par un homme qui, coiffé d’une casquette militaire qu’ornait « le petit François », brillant de mille feux, agitait frénétiquement une paire de béquilles. Ses béquilles toujours en bataille, l’homme criait à tue-tête par les rues de Prague: –À Belgrade! À Belgrade! Sa voiturette était suivie par une foule de badauds dont le nombre augmentait sans cesse.
En route, Chvéïk constatait que les agents postés à divers carrefours lui faisaient le salut militaire.' - p.107-112
1. UNE SATIRE À L'HUMOUR FÉROCE
Qu'on l'interroge, qu'on le menace, qu'on le rudoie, en toute candeur, le bavard Chvéïk disserte, compare et rapporte tout à des exemples à lui : des potins ou la première rumeur qu'il attrape. Son bon sens relativise tout, nivelle tout. En les mettant face à leur absurdité, il démonte toute autorité, toute convention de la guerre. Comme un miroir qui ne réfléchirait que leurs ridicules les plus énormes.
'– Écoutez, Chvéïk, j’avais envie de vous déférer devant le conseil de guerre, mais je vois bien que vous seriez acquitté, parce que ces messieurs n’ont encore jamais eu affaire à un crétin de votre envergure. Regardez-vous bien là dans la glace, n’êtes-vous pas dégoûté de vous-même devant un visage aussi stupide que ça ? Vous êtes le phénomène naturel le plus renversant que j’aie jamais vu. Allons, Chvéïk, mais dites la vérité: est-ce que votre tête, elle vous plaît ?
– Je vous déclare avec obéissance, mon lieutenant, qu’elle ne me plaît pas du tout : elle a l’air dans cette glace d’une boule pointue. Ça ne doit pas être une glace biseautée. Une fois, ils avaient mis dans la devanture du marchand de thé Stanek une glace convexe et quand on s’y regardait on avait envie de vomir. On y avait la bouche de travers, la tête ressemblait à une poubelle, on avait le ventre d’un chanoine après une beuverie en règle, bref, on se voyait défiguré à se suicider sur place. Une fois, le gouverneur est passé par cette rue, s’est regardé dans cette glace et le magasin a été obligé d’enlever la glace.' - p.360
2. UNE CHARGE TERRIBLE CONTRE LA RELIGION D'ÉTAT ET LA GUERRE :
'Le sermon et la messe n’étaient pour eux qu’un moyen de se soustraire à l’ennui de la prison. Ce qui les attirait, c’était, non pas la ferveur des sentiments religieux, mais bien l’espoir de trouver, sur le chemin de la chapelle, des « mégots » semés dans les corridors. Le bon Dieu avait moins de charme qu’un bout de cigarette ou de cigare traînant dans la poussière.
Mais la principale attraction était le sermon. Quelle pure joie il provoquait ! Le feldkurat Otto Katz était le plus charmant ecclésiastique du monde. Ses sermons se distinguaient par une éloquence à la fois persuasive et propre à susciter chez les détenus une hilarité interminable. Il était vraiment beau à entendre quand il s’étendait sur la miséricorde infinie de Dieu, quand il s’évertuait à relever le niveau moral des prisonniers, « victimes de toutes les corruptions », et quand il les réconfortait dans leur abjection. Il était vraiment beau à entendre, du haut de la chaire ou de l’autel, faisant pleuvoir sur ses fidèles des injures de toute sorte et des vitupérations variées. Enfin, il n’était pas moins beau à entendre quand il chantait Ite missa est, et après avoir dit sa messe d’une façon tout à fait curieuse et originale, en brouillant et bousculant les parties de la messe; quand il avait trop bu, il inventait même des prières et une messe inédites, tout un rituel à lui.' - p.151
'La messe, nouveau tour de force du feldkurat, fut suivie avec une grande attention par les prisonniers qui ne cachaient pas leur goût pour l’officiant. L’un d’eux paria même sa portion de pain contre deux gifles que le feldkurat allait faire tomber le Saint-Sacrement par terre. Il gagna son pari.
Il n’y avait pas de place dans ces âmes pour le mysticisme des croyants ou la piété des catholiques convaincus. Ils éprouvaient un sentiment analogue à celui qu’on éprouve au théâtre quand on ne connaît pas le contenu de lapièce et qu’on suit avec patience les péripéties de l’action. Les prisonniers se plongèrent avec délices dans le spectacle que leur offraient les évolutions du feldkurat.
Ils n’avaient d’yeux que pour la beauté de la chasuble qu’avait endossée à rebours le feldkurat et, pleins d’attention, suivaient avec ferveur toutce qui se passait à l’autel.' - p.164
Il y a des chapitres vraiment impayables dans cette histoire :) J'ai une pensée pour les dialogues épiques entre l'aumônier arsouille et Chvéïk l'innocent, devenu son aide... :)
'– C’est encore le type de tout à l’heure, monsieur l’aumônier. Je l’ai enfermé dans la baignoire pour que nous ayons le temps de dîner tranquillement.
– Vous n’agissez pas bien, Chvéïk; qui reçoit un hôte reçoit Dieu. Aux temps anciens les seigneurs admettaient à leur table des bouffons monstrueux pour les divertir à leur festin. Apportez le type pour qu’il soit notre bouffon.' - p.261
C'est ensuite la messe qui est sans arrêt tournée en ridicule. Un jour que l'aumônier Katz a perdu plusieurs pièces de son mobilier liturgique (aux cartes ?), Chvéïk et lui improvisent des objets de culte : une coupe de sport fera bien l'affaire pour le calice, et puis l'huile de chènevis d'un magasin de peinture pour l'huile bénite. Pour achever de confondre l'auditoire, la messe se fait à coups de sifflements pour que Chvéïk suive bien son rôle d'enfant de chœur, en rythme.
La religion instituée, c'est aussi ce qui encadre et cautionne la guerre, en faisant une mission du chrétien. Jaroslav Hašek ne mâche pas ses mots devant une religion d'État servile et prête à tous les accommodements :
'C’est toujours au nom d’une divinité bienfaisante, sortie de l’imagination des hommes, que se prépare le massacre de la pauvre humanité.
Avant de couper le cou à un prisonnier de guerre, les Phéniciens célébraient un service divin assez semblable à celui que célébraient encore leurs descendants quelques milliers d’années plus tard avant d’aller se battre.
Les anthropophages des îles de la Guinée et de la Polynésie, avant de manger dans un festin solennel leurs prisonniers de guerre ou les gens qui les incommodent – missionnaires, explorateurs, négociants ou simples curieux –sacrifient à leurs dieux selon des rites divers. Notre civilisation ne s’introduisant chez eux qu’au ralenti, ils ne revêtent point de chasubles, mais ornent leurs reins de plumes aux couleurs éclatantes.' - p.219
'En Europe, les gens marchaient comme du bétail aux abattoirs où les conduisaient – dignes auxiliaires des empereurs bouchers, des rois et des généraux, – les prêtres de toutes les religions, qui leur donnaient leur bénédiction et leur faisaient jurer que « sur terre, sur mer, dans les airs, etc ».
Les messes du camp avaient toujours lieu en deux occasions spéciales: avant le départ des soldats pour le front, et, au front même avant la tuerie. Je me rappelle qu’au front, à une de ces messes, un aéroplane ennemi jeta une bombe juste sur l’aumônier, dont il ne subsista que des loques sanglantes.
Il passa aussitôt martyr, tandis que les aéroplanes autrichiens faisaient de leur mieux pour procurer cette même béatitude immortelle à des aumôniers de l’autre côté du front.' - p.221
3. CHVÉÏK L'INNOCENT : LA SUBVERSION INCARNÉE OU L'IMAGE DE LA RÉSISTANCE NON-VIOLENTE ?
Rusé naïf, roué de bonne foi ('pour vous faire plaisir', dit-il à l'aumônier Katz et au lieutenant Lucas), Josef Chvéïk est un mélange admirable de bon sens et d'énormités. Par un air dégagé et des paroles franches, qui prennent l'air d'insinuations ironiques, il tourne à la blague toutes les conventions qui ont cours sous l'Autriche-Hongrie pendant la Grande Guerre.
'– Ne me ménage pas, dit-il au soldat qui lui administrait le clystère; rappelle-toi ton serment. Si ton père ou ton frère étaient à ma place, tu serais obligé de leur foutre ton clystère la même chose. Mets-toi bien dans la tête que c’est de clystères comme celui-là que dépend le salut de l’Autriche, et tu verras, nous aurons la victoire.' - p.129
Bavard candide, pour toutes les formes d'autorité, il est impertinent et intolérable sans chercher à l'être. Bref, il parle des Habits neufs de l'empereur avec une tranquillité, un dégagement et une candeur superbes.
( Les Habits Neufs de L'Empereur ).
'Les yeux innocents et candides de Chvéïk ne désarmaient pas de leur douceur et de leur tendresse et reflétaient la sérénité de l’homme qui estimait que tout était pour le mieux, que rien d’extraordinaire ne s’était passé et que tout ce qui avait pu se passer était d’ailleurs pour le mieux, car il faut tout de même bien qu’il se passe quelque chose de temps en temps.' - p.356
4. POUR LE PLAISIR, UN EXTRAIT DU CHAPITRE DANS L'ASILE DE FOUS
'– Sérieusement, je ne comprendrai jamais pourquoi les fous se fâchent d’être si bien placés. C’est une maison où on peut se promener tout nu, hurler comme un chacal, être furieux à discrétion et mordre autant qu’on veut et tout ce qu’on veut. Si on osait se conduire comme ça dans la rue, tout le monde serait affolé, mais, là-bas, rien de plus naturel. Il y a là-dedans une telle liberté que les socialistes n’ont jamais osé rêver rien d’aussi beau. On peut s’y faire passer pour le Bon Dieu, pour la Sainte-Vierge, pour le pape ou pour le roi d’Angleterre, ou bien pour un empereur quelconque, ou encore pour saint Venceslas. Tout de même, le type qui la faisait à la saint Venceslas traînait tout le temps, nu et gigotant au cabanon. Il y avait là aussi un type qui criait tout le temps qu’il était archevêque, mais celui-là ne faisait que bouffer et, sauf votre respect, encore quelque chose, vous savez bien à quoi ça peut rimer, et tout ça sans se gêner. Il y en avait un autre qui se faisait passer pour saint Cyrille et saint Méthode à la fois, pour avoir droit à deux portions à chaque repas. Un autre monsieur prétendait être enceint, et il invitait tout le monde à venir au baptême. (...) Il y avait aussi un type qui ne quittait pas la camisole de force qu’on lui passait pour l’empêcher de calculer la fin du monde. (...) et un autre qui faisait tous ses efforts pour me persuader qu’à l’intérieur du globe terrestre il y en avait encore un autre, un peu plus petit que celui qui lui servait d’enveloppe. Tout le monde était libre de dire ce qu’il avait envie de dire, tout ce qui lui passait par la tête. On se serait cru au Parlement. Très souvent, on s’y racontait des contes de fées et on finissait par se battre quand une princesse avait tourné mal. Le fou leplus dangereux que j’y aie connu, c’était un type qui se faisait passer pour le volume XVI du « Dictionnaire Otto ». Celui-là priait ses copains de l’ouvrir et de chercher ce que le Dictionnaire disait au mot « Ouvrière en cartonnage », sans quoi il serait perdu. Et il n’y avait que la camisole de force qui le mettait à l’aise. Alors, il était content et disait que ce n’était pas trop tôt pour être mis enfin sous presse, et il exigeait une reliure moderne.' - p.70-71
5. UN MOT SUR L'AUTEUR :
Jaroslav Hašek a lui-même été incorporé dans l'armée autrichienne en 1915. Il est pris par les Russes, puis à leur capitulation, il passe dans une organisation pour l'indépendance tchèque.
Marchand de chiens, journaliste anarchiste, fondateur du 'Parti du lent progrès dans les limites de la loi' et écrivain errant, son œuvre n'a pas reçu une reconnaissance unanime de son vivant et ce n'est que très récemment que cette histoire a été reconnue à sa juste importance.
DES IDÉES DE LECTURES ASSEZ PROCHES DANS LE TON:
Livre de la Voie Et de la Vertu: Tao Te King
Candide
La Plaisanterie
March 28, 2021
“Listen, Švejk, are you really God’s prize oaf?”
“Humbly report, sir,” Švejk answered solemnly. “I am!”
The good soldier Švejk repeats this answer, in one form or another, quite a lot over the course of 892 pages of being frequently grilled by various authorities under the Austro-Hungarian Empire in World War One. You, the reader, will be entirely at liberty to ascertain the truth of the matter!
This was a re-read for me after many years. I remember as a young person being utterly amazed at it, as I’d never come across war satire of this kind before. I found the book less comic this time, and also a touch tedious as it went on, as Švejk (of whom the author admits he is very fond) relates innumerable, ever more far-fetched, stories, to illustrate a particular aspect of human behaviour, while generally sitting in one of a long succession of prisons, military transports, or mental asylums. I am still amazed, though, that Hašek could, seemingly effortlessly, come out with tale upon entertaining tale of unfortunate innocents at the mercy of the civil or military administration, or cunning malefactors who come justly to a sticky end, or unhinged military officials sabotaging their own war . . . having said all that, I attribute any intermittent tediousness I found in the narration to the novel being already almost a hundred years old. At the time of writing, Hašek’s work would have been innovatory, revolutionary, shocking beyond anything we might experience from it today, in our age of enlightened cynicism about “war and war’s alarms” (WB Yeats), where we are accustomed to more sophisticated satire. I found myself thinking that it was just as well the book was published posthumously or Hašek might have found himself treated just as his hero was.
This book contains no grandiose criticism but relies on incontestable and concrete detail. Of necessity, it’s earthy stuff. As the author points out in the epilogue to Part 1,”Behind the Lines”,
“Life is no finishing school for young ladies.”
Part Two is entitled, “At the Front”, and the language and the incidents are scatological and often bawdy. Hašek defends himself thus:
“It was once said, and very rightly, that a man who is well brought-up may read anything. The only people who boggle at what is perfectly natural are those who are the worst swine and the finest experts in filth. In their utterly contemptible pseudo-morality they ignore the contents and madly attack individual words . . . beneath this camouflage these drawing-room lions indulge in the worst vices and excesses.”
Hašek described conditions for the soldiers and the inefficiency of the army command from personal experience serving on the Eastern Front, although he died without writing his intended third volume, “in Captivity” which would also have reflected his actual experience (of being a prisoner of war of the Russians). Thanks to Ian’s review of “The Snows of Yesteryear” and Beata’s of “Wołyń zdradzony” (“Volhynia betrayed” according to Google Translate), I have more of an idea of the region of Galicia through which Švejk passes as Part Two ends.
I woke one morning from a Švejk-related dream (no, really!) wondering how I could sum up this novel in the style of Hašek. Just how easy was it to make up tales where Švejk’s point is couched in a ton or so of irrelevant anecdotal detail? I found that in a few minutes I wrote about 500 words of my own Švejk tale (don’t worry, I won’t include it all here!) but the image I had was of a man who, wandering through the halls of the city treasury, came upon ancient, dusty chests, which no one had ever opened or been remotely interested in. This man opened them, and found that they were full of human truths, accumulated over centuries. Perhaps the events they described had not actually taken place but their import was true. The man read them and realised their value to humanity. The man heaped these truths upon himself as if they were coats of ermine, and went out into the street, accosting all whom he met with wise words from the papers in the chests. Eventually he was brought before the city authorities. They listened carefully to his tales of truth hidden away in the cellars of the Treasury. Then they conferred briefly with each other, nodding their sage heads, and had the man thrown into the river as a danger to society.
Just be grateful you were spared the full version!
“Humbly report, sir,” Švejk answered solemnly. “I am!”
The good soldier Švejk repeats this answer, in one form or another, quite a lot over the course of 892 pages of being frequently grilled by various authorities under the Austro-Hungarian Empire in World War One. You, the reader, will be entirely at liberty to ascertain the truth of the matter!
This was a re-read for me after many years. I remember as a young person being utterly amazed at it, as I’d never come across war satire of this kind before. I found the book less comic this time, and also a touch tedious as it went on, as Švejk (of whom the author admits he is very fond) relates innumerable, ever more far-fetched, stories, to illustrate a particular aspect of human behaviour, while generally sitting in one of a long succession of prisons, military transports, or mental asylums. I am still amazed, though, that Hašek could, seemingly effortlessly, come out with tale upon entertaining tale of unfortunate innocents at the mercy of the civil or military administration, or cunning malefactors who come justly to a sticky end, or unhinged military officials sabotaging their own war . . . having said all that, I attribute any intermittent tediousness I found in the narration to the novel being already almost a hundred years old. At the time of writing, Hašek’s work would have been innovatory, revolutionary, shocking beyond anything we might experience from it today, in our age of enlightened cynicism about “war and war’s alarms” (WB Yeats), where we are accustomed to more sophisticated satire. I found myself thinking that it was just as well the book was published posthumously or Hašek might have found himself treated just as his hero was.
This book contains no grandiose criticism but relies on incontestable and concrete detail. Of necessity, it’s earthy stuff. As the author points out in the epilogue to Part 1,”Behind the Lines”,
“Life is no finishing school for young ladies.”
Part Two is entitled, “At the Front”, and the language and the incidents are scatological and often bawdy. Hašek defends himself thus:
“It was once said, and very rightly, that a man who is well brought-up may read anything. The only people who boggle at what is perfectly natural are those who are the worst swine and the finest experts in filth. In their utterly contemptible pseudo-morality they ignore the contents and madly attack individual words . . . beneath this camouflage these drawing-room lions indulge in the worst vices and excesses.”
Hašek described conditions for the soldiers and the inefficiency of the army command from personal experience serving on the Eastern Front, although he died without writing his intended third volume, “in Captivity” which would also have reflected his actual experience (of being a prisoner of war of the Russians). Thanks to Ian’s review of “The Snows of Yesteryear” and Beata’s of “Wołyń zdradzony” (“Volhynia betrayed” according to Google Translate), I have more of an idea of the region of Galicia through which Švejk passes as Part Two ends.
I woke one morning from a Švejk-related dream (no, really!) wondering how I could sum up this novel in the style of Hašek. Just how easy was it to make up tales where Švejk’s point is couched in a ton or so of irrelevant anecdotal detail? I found that in a few minutes I wrote about 500 words of my own Švejk tale (don’t worry, I won’t include it all here!) but the image I had was of a man who, wandering through the halls of the city treasury, came upon ancient, dusty chests, which no one had ever opened or been remotely interested in. This man opened them, and found that they were full of human truths, accumulated over centuries. Perhaps the events they described had not actually taken place but their import was true. The man read them and realised their value to humanity. The man heaped these truths upon himself as if they were coats of ermine, and went out into the street, accosting all whom he met with wise words from the papers in the chests. Eventually he was brought before the city authorities. They listened carefully to his tales of truth hidden away in the cellars of the Treasury. Then they conferred briefly with each other, nodding their sage heads, and had the man thrown into the river as a danger to society.
Just be grateful you were spared the full version!
June 12, 2024
The Czech military banned this novel ('filth'); the Nazis burned every copy of it they could find. Joseph Heller later said if not for Svejk there would have been no Catch-22.
I should add that as well as one of the funniest novels ever written, it’s also one of the rudest. It savages aristos, army brass, organised religion and idiot bosses without mercy.
But you wouldn’t want to read THAT, now, would you...?
I should add that as well as one of the funniest novels ever written, it’s also one of the rudest. It savages aristos, army brass, organised religion and idiot bosses without mercy.
But you wouldn’t want to read THAT, now, would you...?
December 5, 2019
I bought this in 1980 as a treat for finishing my A levels. I was attracted by the garish bright yellow cover and the cartoonish character on the front.
It took me into a new world, portraying the kaleidoscope of the Austo Hungarian empire through the lense of the only loyal Czech private in the whole army. Sadly Svejk is a hopeless idiot, and his part in the war is of no use to Franz Joseph.
A rambling, irreverent, irreligious and bawdy mess of a book - the author wrote the book in installments for a newspaper so had every incentive to spin it out - nontheless it is a glorious paean to the pointlessness of war. The various nationalities of the AH Empire spent more time fighting each other than they ever did the Russians.
According to Wikipedia this was also partly the inspiration for Catch 22. God bless you Mr Hasek.
If you are in Prague one of the inns mentioned in the book is still there - U Kalicha in Na Bojisti st. A bit touristy but worth a visit, and good for a beer. Been there, got the beer mat.
Jaroslav Hasek was a bit of a character too. If you get the chance read The Bad Bohemian by Cecil Parrott, which sets out the life of this anarchistic rabble rouser. In my favourite passage, he helped set up a political party called the Party for Moderate Progress Within the Bounds of The Law, partly as a surreal response to onerous political restrictions, but also partly for cheap beer. We need more of this in our world.
It took me into a new world, portraying the kaleidoscope of the Austo Hungarian empire through the lense of the only loyal Czech private in the whole army. Sadly Svejk is a hopeless idiot, and his part in the war is of no use to Franz Joseph.
A rambling, irreverent, irreligious and bawdy mess of a book - the author wrote the book in installments for a newspaper so had every incentive to spin it out - nontheless it is a glorious paean to the pointlessness of war. The various nationalities of the AH Empire spent more time fighting each other than they ever did the Russians.
According to Wikipedia this was also partly the inspiration for Catch 22. God bless you Mr Hasek.
If you are in Prague one of the inns mentioned in the book is still there - U Kalicha in Na Bojisti st. A bit touristy but worth a visit, and good for a beer. Been there, got the beer mat.
Jaroslav Hasek was a bit of a character too. If you get the chance read The Bad Bohemian by Cecil Parrott, which sets out the life of this anarchistic rabble rouser. In my favourite passage, he helped set up a political party called the Party for Moderate Progress Within the Bounds of The Law, partly as a surreal response to onerous political restrictions, but also partly for cheap beer. We need more of this in our world.
April 16, 2020
The Good Soldier Švejk is 752 pages long and yet on not a single one was I able to keep a straight face. A heartwarming mixture of colourful characters, hilarious satire and black humour makes for a fantastic masterpiece on the total futility of World War One. The only downside to the book which I can come up with is that fate didn't permit Jaroslav Hašek to finish it. We can only imagine how many other gifts Hašek could have given us. Rereading the book for the second time only reaffirmed for me its place among my favourite books of all time.
December 24, 2021
Introduction
Guide to the Pronunciation of Czech Names
Maps
Austro-Hungarian Currency
--The Good Soldier Švejk
Guide to the Pronunciation of Czech Names
Maps
Austro-Hungarian Currency
--The Good Soldier Švejk
March 26, 2021
Ο «Καλός στρατιώτης Σβέικ» είναι ένα σατιρικό μυθιστόρημα, που τα καταφέρνει περίφημα να διακωμωδεί, παρά την τραγωδία της όλης κατάστασης, την στάση της Τσεχίας και κατ’ επέκταση της Αυστροουγγρικής Αυτοκρατορίας κατά τον Πρώτο Παγκόσμιο Πόλεμο. Οι περιπέτειες του Ιωσήφ Σβέικ ξεκινούν από την Πράγα αμέσως μετά την δολοφονία του αρχιδούκα Φραγκίσκου Φερδινάνδου και καλύπτουν ολόκληρο το πρώτο έτος του πολέμου, και θα εκτείνονταν ακόμη περισσότερο εάν ο Γιάροσλαβ Χάσεκ προλάβαινε να ολοκληρώσει το έργο του πριν από τον θάνατό του το 1923.
Ετούτο το βιβλίο ήταν για ‘μένα τρομερή ανακάλυψη. Ήταν από τα αγαπημένα του πατέρα μου, που το παίνευε από τότε που θυμάμαι τον εαυτό μου, αλλά μου πήρε πάνω από δέκα χρόνια να πειστώ να το πιάσω (φοβόμουν πως δεν θα το άντεχα αν ο Σβέικ σκοτωνόταν στο τέλος…), και τώρα λιγάκι το μετανιώνω. Γέλασα πάρα πολύ, τόσο με τα καμώματα του καλού στρατιώτη (που δεν μπορείς να πεις αν είναι όντως διανοητικά καθυστερημένος ή αν το παίζει για να γλυτώνει από διάφορες άβολες καταστάσεις και να προσβάλλει τους ανωτέρους του χωρίς να φοβάται πως θα τον λιντσάρουν γι’ αυτό, ή θα τον περάσουν από στρατοδικείο, ή θα τον τουφεκίσουν), όσο και με την απελπισία των άλλων μαζί του. Ο φοβερός αλκοολικός ιερεύς Ότο Κατζ ήταν από τις καλύτερες εκπλήξεις σ’ αυτό το βιβλίο (οι διάλογοι ανάμεσα στον παπά και τον Σβέικ ήταν πραγματικά ένας κι ένας), και ο ερωτύλος υπολοχαγός Λούκας, που η αθωότητα και η καλή πρόθεση του Σβέικ τον τσάκιζαν σελίδα με την σελίδα, ήταν πραγματικά απολαυστικός.
Το ίδιο απολαυστική ήταν και η σάτιρα. Ο Γιάροσλαβ Χάσεκ παρουσιάζει το στρατιωτικό σύστημα της Τσεχίας (και κατ’ επέκταση της Αυστροουγγαρίας) όπως το έζησε εκείνος τα χρόνια του πολέμου, δίνοντας έμφαση στην τρομερά παράλογη και τρομερά βραδυκίνητη γραφειοκρατία του, στην αχρείαστη πολυπλοκότητά του και στην π��ρανοϊκή επιβολή λογοκρισίας του. Το μεγάλο του επίτευγμα είναι το πώς ο «ηλίθιος», όπως πολύ συχνά τον χαρακτηρίζει, καλός στρατιώτης Σβέικ καταφέρνει και ξεφεύγει από την εξίσου ηλίθια Αρχή παρά την καθυστέρησή του, υπερτονίζοντας έτσι την καθυστέρηση του ίδιου του συστήματος. Με τον ίδιο τρόπο η σάτιρα καυτηριάζει και τον στρατό, που οι άντρες του στέλνονται μεν στον πόλεμο (με ορισμένους να προτίθενται ακόμη και να θυσιάσουν τον εαυτό τους για τον «ξεμωραμένο Αυτοκράτορα», όπως ο ίδιος ο Σβέικ), αλλά χωρίς να γνωρίζουν τον λόγο για τον οποίο πολεμούν ή ακόμη και με ποιον ακριβώς, και δίχως να ενδιαφέρονται να τους μάθουν. Χαρακτηριστικά, ως αποτέλεσμα περισσότερο ξυπνά την ορμή τους η αγελάδα του Λίσκοβικ που δεν έδωσε κρέας για το συσσίτιο, παρά ο εχθρός ο ίδιος.
Πάντως, θα ήθελα πολύ να μάθω τι είχε κατά νου ο συγγραφέας για την πραγματική κατάληξη του καλού στρατιώτη Σβέικ. Θέλω να πιστεύω ότι η μοίρα του επεφύλασσε όμορφο τέλος, παρά τον πατριωτισμό του και την προθυμία του να πέσει για τον αυτοκράτορα. Ως τώρα το καλύτε��ο βιβλίο του 2021!
Ετούτο το βιβλίο ήταν για ‘μένα τρομερή ανακάλυψη. Ήταν από τα αγαπημένα του πατέρα μου, που το παίνευε από τότε που θυμάμαι τον εαυτό μου, αλλά μου πήρε πάνω από δέκα χρόνια να πειστώ να το πιάσω (φοβόμουν πως δεν θα το άντεχα αν ο Σβέικ σκοτωνόταν στο τέλος…), και τώρα λιγάκι το μετανιώνω. Γέλασα πάρα πολύ, τόσο με τα καμώματα του καλού στρατιώτη (που δεν μπορείς να πεις αν είναι όντως διανοητικά καθυστερημένος ή αν το παίζει για να γλυτώνει από διάφορες άβολες καταστάσεις και να προσβάλλει τους ανωτέρους του χωρίς να φοβάται πως θα τον λιντσάρουν γι’ αυτό, ή θα τον περάσουν από στρατοδικείο, ή θα τον τουφεκίσουν), όσο και με την απελπισία των άλλων μαζί του. Ο φοβερός αλκοολικός ιερεύς Ότο Κατζ ήταν από τις καλύτερες εκπλήξεις σ’ αυτό το βιβλίο (οι διάλογοι ανάμεσα στον παπά και τον Σβέικ ήταν πραγματικά ένας κι ένας), και ο ερωτύλος υπολοχαγός Λούκας, που η αθωότητα και η καλή πρόθεση του Σβέικ τον τσάκιζαν σελίδα με την σελίδα, ήταν πραγματικά απολαυστικός.
Το ίδιο απολαυστική ήταν και η σάτιρα. Ο Γιάροσλαβ Χάσεκ παρουσιάζει το στρατιωτικό σύστημα της Τσεχίας (και κατ’ επέκταση της Αυστροουγγαρίας) όπως το έζησε εκείνος τα χρόνια του πολέμου, δίνοντας έμφαση στην τρομερά παράλογη και τρομερά βραδυκίνητη γραφειοκρατία του, στην αχρείαστη πολυπλοκότητά του και στην π��ρανοϊκή επιβολή λογοκρισίας του. Το μεγάλο του επίτευγμα είναι το πώς ο «ηλίθιος», όπως πολύ συχνά τον χαρακτηρίζει, καλός στρατιώτης Σβέικ καταφέρνει και ξεφεύγει από την εξίσου ηλίθια Αρχή παρά την καθυστέρησή του, υπερτονίζοντας έτσι την καθυστέρηση του ίδιου του συστήματος. Με τον ίδιο τρόπο η σάτιρα καυτηριάζει και τον στρατό, που οι άντρες του στέλνονται μεν στον πόλεμο (με ορισμένους να προτίθενται ακόμη και να θυσιάσουν τον εαυτό τους για τον «ξεμωραμένο Αυτοκράτορα», όπως ο ίδιος ο Σβέικ), αλλά χωρίς να γνωρίζουν τον λόγο για τον οποίο πολεμούν ή ακόμη και με ποιον ακριβώς, και δίχως να ενδιαφέρονται να τους μάθουν. Χαρακτηριστικά, ως αποτέλεσμα περισσότερο ξυπνά την ορμή τους η αγελάδα του Λίσκοβικ που δεν έδωσε κρέας για το συσσίτιο, παρά ο εχθρός ο ίδιος.
Πάντως, θα ήθελα πολύ να μάθω τι είχε κατά νου ο συγγραφέας για την πραγματική κατάληξη του καλού στρατιώτη Σβέικ. Θέλω να πιστεύω ότι η μοίρα του επεφύλασσε όμορφο τέλος, παρά τον πατριωτισμό του και την προθυμία του να πέσει για τον αυτοκράτορα. Ως τώρα το καλύτε��ο βιβλίο του 2021!
August 28, 2008
I wanted to read this because I knew that Svejk was the forbear of one of the ur-texts of sad-eyed high school existentialists, namely, Catch-22. Joseph Heller said he could never have written his surreal epic without having read this WWI picaresque by Hasek. I thought I was going to love it, obviously. While perusing Svejk was interesting in a historical sense, unfortunately I ended up not finding it as enjoyable as I had hoped. Despite the many lavish descriptions of how to fight bureaucracy with drunkenness and ironic stupidity, it's long, it gets very repetitive, and I don't think I had the cultural context to really appreciate it.
Which made me realize something though....maybe every time a writer, artist, or filmmaker thinks they are "ripping something off" that they like...perhaps they are really just helping it make it into the next few generations in a form that's better adapted for the people of the future to understand. Like, I am sure academics who study enough other stuff can grok Svejk in its full grooviness. But I for one, am glad that Heller transmitted whatever he saw in Svejk to me in a way that could blow my teenage mind forever in his own book.
Which made me realize something though....maybe every time a writer, artist, or filmmaker thinks they are "ripping something off" that they like...perhaps they are really just helping it make it into the next few generations in a form that's better adapted for the people of the future to understand. Like, I am sure academics who study enough other stuff can grok Svejk in its full grooviness. But I for one, am glad that Heller transmitted whatever he saw in Svejk to me in a way that could blow my teenage mind forever in his own book.
August 25, 2022
Juokingos istorijos apie tai, kaip kvaileliui sekasi išsisukti. Bet kažkaip skaitai, skaitai ir atsibosta.
November 6, 2015
از جنگ زیاد خواندهایم، دیدهایم و شنیدهایم. هم با جنگی که درایران رخ داده آشنا هستیم (البته به دلیل خط قرمزهایی که وجود دارد نه با همهی جنبههایش) و هم با جنگهایی که در دنیا درگرفتهاند. در این میان میتوان گفت که دو جنگ جهانی قرن بیستم از همه بیشتر شناخته شدهان��. شوایک را نیز از یک منظر میتوان روایتی از جنگ جهانی اول دانست. یاروسلاو هاشک که خود از نزدیک در این جنگ حضور داشته، با طنزی تلخ که هیچکس از زیر تیغ تیزش نمیتواند فرار کند به نقد از جنگ در درجهی اول، و اجتماع در دیدی وسیعتر دست میزند.
هر نویسندهای ترفندی دارد و میتوانم بگویم که یاروسلاو هاشک از یکی از بهترین روشها استفاده کرده است: سربازی ساده –و گاهی وقتها (اما نه همیشه) خل– که از ماجرایی به ماجرایی دیگر برده میشود. این سادگی ذاتی شوایک (که نویسنده وی را
Good Soldier
یا سرباز غیور مینامد) به صحنهها و شخصیتهای عجیب، پوچ، ریاکار، و گاه دوست���داشتنی اضافه میشود و روایتی جذاب و خواندنی خلق میشود .
شاید از زاویهای، حتا بتوان موضوع جنگ را موضوع دوم کتاب در نظر گرفت و گفت که شوایک، در مورد خنده است. میتوانم با اطمینان بگویم بهترین کتاب خندهداری است که تا به حال خواندهام و بهترین اثر هنری خندهداری است که تا به حال با آن روبهرو شدهام. شوایک سرباز غیور سادهای است که آن قدر داستان و حکایت بلد است که فکر میکنی بیش از همه شخصیتهای کتاب عمر کرده و پیری به نظر میرسد بیآنکه خود از خردی که دارد باخبر باشد و این جهل او نیز در خدمت روایت و خنداندن ما به خوبی استفاده میشود. به نظرم بیراه نیست اگر بگوییم شوایک ترکیب کاملی است از دن کیشوت و مهترش سانچو پانزا، البته بیآنکه چیزی از هویت مستقل خود شوایک کم شود.
مشاهدهی جنگ از خلال چشمان تیزبین شوایک چیزی است که هیچکس نباید آن را از دست بدهد، چون جنگ یکی از بدترین پدیدههایی است که همیشه با زندگی انسانها درآمیخته است و انسان بزرگی چون شوایک شما را با دیدگاه جدیدی از جنگ آشنا میکند.
این را هم باید اضافه کنم که ترجمهی این کتاب شاید یکی از بهترین ترجمههایی است که تا به حال خواندم.
هر نویسندهای ترفندی دارد و میتوانم بگویم که یاروسلاو هاشک از یکی از بهترین روشها استفاده کرده است: سربازی ساده –و گاهی وقتها (اما نه همیشه) خل– که از ماجرایی به ماجرایی دیگر برده میشود. این سادگی ذاتی شوایک (که نویسنده وی را
Good Soldier
یا سرباز غیور مینامد) به صحنهها و شخصیتهای عجیب، پوچ، ریاکار، و گاه دوست���داشتنی اضافه میشود و روایتی جذاب و خواندنی خلق میشود .
شاید از زاویهای، حتا بتوان موضوع جنگ را موضوع دوم کتاب در نظر گرفت و گفت که شوایک، در مورد خنده است. میتوانم با اطمینان بگویم بهترین کتاب خندهداری است که تا به حال خواندهام و بهترین اثر هنری خندهداری است که تا به حال با آن روبهرو شدهام. شوایک سرباز غیور سادهای است که آن قدر داستان و حکایت بلد است که فکر میکنی بیش از همه شخصیتهای کتاب عمر کرده و پیری به نظر میرسد بیآنکه خود از خردی که دارد باخبر باشد و این جهل او نیز در خدمت روایت و خنداندن ما به خوبی استفاده میشود. به نظرم بیراه نیست اگر بگوییم شوایک ترکیب کاملی است از دن کیشوت و مهترش سانچو پانزا، البته بیآنکه چیزی از هویت مستقل خود شوایک کم شود.
مشاهدهی جنگ از خلال چشمان تیزبین شوایک چیزی است که هیچکس نباید آن را از دست بدهد، چون جنگ یکی از بدترین پدیدههایی است که همیشه با زندگی انسانها درآمیخته است و انسان بزرگی چون شوایک شما را با دیدگاه جدیدی از جنگ آشنا میکند.
این را هم باید اضافه کنم که ترجمهی این کتاب شاید یکی از بهترین ترجمههایی است که تا به حال خواندم.
February 12, 2019
– Sou um idiota oficial.
Švejk
Um idiota oficial não é bem o mesmo que um idiota: um idiota oficial é, muitas vezes, só uma pessoa mal aclimatada à idiotice de um território. Mas nunca se chega a saber do que sofre Švejk. As peripatetices sucedem-se não sei se por estupidez, astúcia ou ambas.
Dá para rir e duvidar.
Švejk
Um idiota oficial não é bem o mesmo que um idiota: um idiota oficial é, muitas vezes, só uma pessoa mal aclimatada à idiotice de um território. Mas nunca se chega a saber do que sofre Švejk. As peripatetices sucedem-se não sei se por estupidez, astúcia ou ambas.
Dá para rir e duvidar.
July 8, 2024
part 1: behind the lines
part 2: at the front
part 3: the glorious licking
part 4: the glorious licking continued (unfinished)
humbly report, sir, you lovely cow, you!!!!!
part 2: at the front
part 3: the glorious licking
part 4: the glorious licking continued (unfinished)
humbly report, sir, you lovely cow, you!!!!!
October 1, 2019
“A humanidade tem apenas uma arma eficaz: o riso.” - Mark Twain
“O humor é a revolta superior do espírito.” - André Breton
O Bom Soldado Švejk foi das pouquíssimas peças de produção artística, que teve o condão de me provocar gargalhadas descontroladas, até às lágrimas. Jaroslav Hašek, através das aventuras e desventuras do seu herói, tenta de alguma forma estruturar o caos, em particular o da guerra, no geral, o da existência.
Curioso é o facto de Hašek ser mais velho três meses, que o seu patrício Kafka, o que me leva a pensar que, assim como a Saudade fascina os Portugueses, talvez os Checos se deixem encantar pelo Caos.
“O humor é a revolta superior do espírito.” - André Breton
O Bom Soldado Švejk foi das pouquíssimas peças de produção artística, que teve o condão de me provocar gargalhadas descontroladas, até às lágrimas. Jaroslav Hašek, através das aventuras e desventuras do seu herói, tenta de alguma forma estruturar o caos, em particular o da guerra, no geral, o da existência.
Curioso é o facto de Hašek ser mais velho três meses, que o seu patrício Kafka, o que me leva a pensar que, assim como a Saudade fascina os Portugueses, talvez os Checos se deixem encantar pelo Caos.
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