A Sportsman's Sketches, Volume 2 is a captivating collection of short stories that offer a unique glimpse into rural Russian life in the 19th century. The author, Ivan Turgenev, masterfully paints vivid portraits of the various characters that inhabit the countryside, from the stoic hunters and passionate fishermen to the quirky village eccentrics.
Through his keen observations and lyrical prose, Turgenev beautifully captures the essence of the Russian landscape and the people who call it home. The stories are imbued with a deep sense of nostalgia and longing for a simpler way of life that is rapidly disappearing.
While some of the tales may seem quaint or outdated to modern readers, they still resonate with universal themes of love, loss, and the enduring connection between man and nature. Turgenev's writing is at once melancholic and life-affirming, offering a bittersweet reminder of the fleeting nature of time and the beauty that can be found in the everyday moments.
Overall, A Sportsman's Sketches, Volume 2 is a timeless classic that will appeal to readers who appreciate richly detailed settings, complex characters, and thought-provoking themes. Turgenev's writing is as relevant today as it was when the stories were first penned, making this collection a must-read for literary enthusiasts and fans of Russian literature alike.
First Page:
A SPORTSMAN'S SKETCHESBY IVAN TURGENEV
Translated from the Russian By CONSTANCE GARNETT
VOLUME II
CONTENTS
XV. TATYANA BORISSOVNA AND HER NEPHEW
XVI. DEATH
XVII. THE SINGERS
XVIII. PIOTR PETROVITCH KARATAEV
XIX. THE TRYST
XX. THE HAMLET OF THE SHTCHIGRI DISTRICT
XXI. TCHERTOP HANOV AND NEDOPYUSKIN
XXII. THE END OF TCHERTOP HANOV
XXIII. A LIVING RELIC
XXIV. THE RATTLING OF WHEELS
XXV. EPILOGUE: THE FOREST AND THE STEPPE
XV
TATYANA BORISSOVNA AND HER NEPHEW
Give me your hand, gentle reader, and come along with me. It is glorious weather; there is a tender blue in the May sky; the smooth young leaves of the willows glisten as though they had been polished; the wide even road is all covered with that delicate grass with the little reddish stalk that the sheep are so fond of nibbling; to right and to left, over the long sloping hillsides, the green rye is softly waving; the shadows of small clouds glide in thin long streaks over it. In the distance is the dark mass of forests, the glitter of ponds, yellow patches of village; larks in hundreds are soaring, singing, falling headlong with outstretched necks, hopping about the clods; the crows on the highroad stand still, look at you, peck at the earth, let you drive close up, and with two hops lazily move aside... Continue reading book >>
