Презентация по английскому языку на тему "Сравнение различных вариантов перевода романа "Евгений Онегин" А.С.Пушкина

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  Alexander Pushkin Eugene Onegin

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  Eugene Onegin has been translated into English over forty times: the most renowned versions are listed below

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  Spalding “My uncle’s goodness is extreme,  If seriously he hath disease;  He hath acquired the world’s esteem  And nothing more important sees;  A paragon of virtue he!  But what a nuisance it will be,  Chained to his bedside night and day  Without a chance to slip away.  Ye need dissimulation base  A dying man with art to soothe,  Beneath his head the pillow smooth,  And physic bring with mournful face,  To sigh and meditate alone:  When will the devil take his own!” 

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  Elton ‘When Uncle, in good earnest, sickened  (His principles were always high),  My own respect for him was quickened;  This was his happiest thought,’ said I.  He was a pattern edifying:  – Yet, heavens! how boring, and how trying.  To tend a patient night and day  And never move a step away!  And then – how low the craft and gross is! –  I must amuse a man half-dead,  Arrange the pillows for his head,  And bring, with a long face, the doses  And sigh, and wonder inwardly,  ‘When will the Devil come for thee?’ 

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  Deutsch (1943) “My uncle always was respected;  But his grave illness, I confess,  Is more than I could have expected:  A stroke of genius, nothing less.  He offers all a grand example;  But, God, such boredom who would sample?—  Daylong, nightlong, thus to be bid  To sit beside an invalid!  Low cunning must assist devotion  To one who is but half-alive:  You smooth his pillow and contrive  Amusement while you mix his potion;  You sigh, and think with furrowed brow—  ‘Why can’t the devil take you now?’” 

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  Arndt (1992) “Now that he is in grave condition,  My uncle, decorous old dunce,  Has won respectful recognition;  And done the perfect thing for once.  His action be a guide to others;  But what a bore, I ask you, brothers,  To tend a patient night and day  And venture not a step away:  Is there hypocrisy more glaring  Than to amuse one all but dead,  Shake up the pillow for his head,  Dose him with melancholy bearing,  And think behind a public sigh:  ‘Deuce take you, step on it and die!’” 

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  Nabokov (1975) “My uncle has most honest principles:  when taken ill in earnest,  he has made one respect him  and nothing better could invent.  To others his example is a lesson;  but, good God, what a bore  to sit by a sick man day and night,  without moving a step away!  What base perfidiousness  The half-alive one to amuse,  adjust for him the pillows,  sadly present him the medicine,  sigh—and think inwardly  when will the devil take you?” 

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  Johnston (1977) ‘My uncle – high ideals inspire him;  but when past joking he fell sick,  he really forced one to admire him –  and never played a shrewder trick.  Let others learn from his example!  But God, how deadly dull to sample  sickroom attendance night and day  and never stir a foot away!  And the sly baseness, fit to throttle,  of entertaining the half-dead:  one smoothes the pillows down in bed,  and glumly serves the medicine bottle,  and sighs, and asks oneself all through:  “When will the devil come for you?”’ 

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  Falen ‘My uncle, man of firm convictions . . .  By falling gravely ill, he’s won  A due respect for his afflictions—  The only clever thing he’s done.  May his example profit others;  But God, what deadly boredom, brothers,  To tend a sick man night and day,  Not daring once to steal away!  And, oh, how base to pamper grossly  And entertain the nearly dead,  To fluff the pillows for his head,  And pass him medicines morosely—  While thinking under every sigh:  The devil take you, Uncle. Die!’ 

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  Hofstadter “My uncle, matchless moral model,  When deathly ill, learned how to make  His friends respect him, bow and coddle —  Of all his ploys, that takes the cake.  To others, this might teach a lesson;  But Lord above, I’d feel such stress in  Having to sit there night and day,  Daring not once to step away.  Plus, I’d say, it’s hypocritical  To keep the half-dead’s spirit bright,  To plump his pillows till they’re right,  Fetch his pills with tears veridical —  Yet in secret to wish and sigh,  ‘Hurry, dear Uncle, up and die!’” 

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  Mitchell My uncle is a man of honour,  When in good earnest he fell ill,  He won respect by his demeanour  And found the role he best could fill.  Let others profit by his lesson,  But, oh my God, what desolation  To tend a sick man day and night  And not to venture from his sight!  What shameful cunning to be cheerful  With someone who is halfway dead,  To prop up pillows by his head,  To bring him medicine, looking tearful,  To sigh – while inwardly you think:  When will the devil let him sink?