Taras Bulba

Peter Constantine's translation of Nikolai Gogol's Taras Bulba is the best I've read (although being the first translation of Taras Bulba I've read I may be a little biased) in that all previous translations seem to be lacking in verve and energy. Constantine's version of Taras Bulba seems to differ also from other translations in that Constantine translates Taras Bulba's sons as sporting 'chub', a scalplock on an otherwise shaven head. All other translations (at least the ones I've read) translate 'chub' as sidelocks or "... long locks of hair on the temples...", much like the jewish peyots. Considering that 'chub' in Ukrainian means 'crest' it seems Constantine has got it right. Anyway, I digress... I recommend this version of Gogol's Taras Bulba to anyone interested in those land-pirates, the Cossacks, Ukrainian history and storytelling, and to anyone who doesn't believe religion can be made an excuse for thuggery and war.

This is probably the most unabashedly masculine novel I've ever read, chock full of bloodshed, adventure, drinking, feasting, carousing, bravery, horsemanship, swordplay and all manner of derring do, with hardly a woman in the entire story. Gogol depicts the harsh and brutal brotherhood of the Russian Cossacks with a romantic splendor that is fun and easy to read. The book also serves as a great commentary on the lengths to which religious fervor and vengence will drive man. If you're a teacher, beware of studying this novel, as it reads like a primer on prejudice, anti-semitism and even misogyny, and surely many parents will want to challenge your choice. But that doesn't have to stop average readers from enjoying a great, old-fashioned adventure story.

"Taras Bulba" is a magnificent story which portraits the life of the Ucrainian Cossacks who lived by the river Dnieper in the XVI Century. Taras Bulba is an old and hardened warrior who feels a little rusty by the lack of action. When his two sons return from school at Kiev, he eagerly takes them to the "setch", the camping and training island of the Cossacks. There they spend their time drinking and remembering old glories. It happens that the Cossacks are going through an uneasy truce with their Turkish hegemones and the Tartar horsemen. Taras Bulba, always the warmonger, harangues the Cossacks, engineers a change in leadership and leads them to attack the Catholic Poles (with religious arguments and some information that the Poles have shut down Orthodox churches and vexated priests). The Cossacks ride West, razing down everything they meet with extraordinary brutality, and they set siege on a walled city. It is there where the drama surfaces: Andrew, Taras's younger son, finds out the woman he loves is inside the city, and through her maid he learns that they are starving. He goes into deep agony, a moral dilemma, and finds himself in an impossible situation. I won't spoil the rest for you, but believe me this is one of the cruellest and bloodiest tales you'll ever read. It brings to life religious and racial hatred in all its crudity and absurdity. It reminds you of Tolstoi's story about the old Chechenian warrior, Hadji Murad (especially now that Shamil Basayev was killed). But even for all its brutality and sadness, it is masterful.

Gogol gives us in this little book a romantic snapshot from Russian history. Essential reading for all lovers of Russian literature.

Gogol?s ?Taras Bulba? is a good example of how a literary work can return to topicality with a vengeance; not so much news that stays news, as it were, as news that re-emerges as news. Accompanied by a brief introduction by professional geo-pessimist Robert D Kaplan (reprinted in the April 2003 Atlantic magazine), this novella confronts the reader with an account of a pre-modern mindset which is only too relevant to understanding current international events. Set sometime in the 17th century, ?Taras Bulba? describes the life of the Zaporozhian Cossacks, a people so accustomed to war that it has become the focus of their existence. Taras is a Cossack colonel, an old fighter who has survived into middle age and fathered two sons, now themselves on the verge of manhood. Far from slipping into complacent quiescence, however, he is as warlike as ever, and his sons? return home from their seminary studies rouses him to return from semi-retirement to full-time work (i.e. raiding and pillaging). His overriding motive is to initiate his sons into full Cossack manhood. The military ? or personal ? consequences are irrelevant. What matters is that his sons must learn war. After an interval at their stronghold, the Sech, an all-male enclave where the Cossacks practise the arts of peace (i.e. getting roaring drunk), Taras is able, with little difficulty, given the nature of his audience, to foment a campaign against the neighbouring (and therefore enemy) Poles. This situation exemplifies a clash-of-civilizations scenario wherein the Orthodox Cossacks are engaged in chronic conflict with the Catholic Poles on the one hand and the Muslim Turks and Tatars on the other. Taras? war goes swimmingly at first (the Cossacks kill many of their enemies), and later not so well (their enemies kill many of the Cossacks). Gogol?s account is a subtle blend of folk tale and modern storytelling. The traditional picture would have shown the Cossacks in brighter, more heroic colours, their cause justified by the outrages of their wicked enemies, and their defeat brought about by treachery and betrayal. In Gogol?s more nuanced presentation, Taras is an out-and-out war-monger and the Cossacks are shown in full, their weaknesses and vices detailed together with their nobility, strengths and virtues. The sorry fates of those lower in the social order, specifically Cossack women and Jews, are not allowed to escape the reader?s attention, even though these observations are accompanied by a casual anti-Semitism. At the same time, however, Gogol also preserves the magical atmosphere of the folk tale: the horses are swift, the warriors are fierce, the young women are beautiful and the doomed are doomed. In the end, Taras? sons reap the full measure of what their father has sowed. Taras shares their tragedy, of course, but so do all the Cossacks. The geopolitics of endless sporadic warfare have made them a culture where military prowess is the supreme human attribute. In su