First Love and Other Stories MOBI ✓ Love and Other

First Love and Other Stories [Download] ➽ First Love and Other Stories Author Ivan Turgenev – Natus-physiotherapy.co.uk This collection brings together six of Turgenev's best known `long' short stories in which he turns his skills of psychological observation and black comedy to subjects as diverse as the tyranny of se This collection brings together six of Turgenev's best and Other MOBI í known `long' short stories in which he turns his skills of psychological observation and black comedy to subjects as First Love ePUB í diverse as the tyranny of serfdom love and revenge on the Russian steppes These stories all display the elegance and clarity of Turgenev's finest writing.


10 thoughts on “First Love and Other Stories

  1. Jan-Maat Jan-Maat says:

    This collection consists of the stories Diary of a superfluous man Mumu Asya First Love King Lear of the steppes and The song of triumphant Love Asya and First Love I had read before back when I was a teenager the edition was a hardback bound in green though that could have been a library binding I suppose from a Russian publishing house First Love I imagine is one of the stories that inspired Freud it is a very nice story but it is not the kind of the story that you can read the same way twice But you can enjoy it infinitely because of its artistry Penelope Fitzgerald was a Turgenev fan and beyond his pessimism I can imagine that she was inspired by his concision all of these stories are short and I felt the shorter they were the stronger they were the longest story here the King Lear retelling was the weakest for me view spoiler The song of triumphant Love was unfinished and is I assume only in the collection as a filler hide spoiler


  2. Katie Lumsden Katie Lumsden says:

    A really great collection I love Turgenev's writing and can't wait to read by him


  3. Helly Helly says:

    I hereby announce myself in love with Russian authors 😊


  4. Amena Amena says:

    Absolutely superb stories So good that I don't know which one would be my favourite As it says on the back of the book 'psychologically acute subtly and sometimes bitterly comic these six stories all display the elegance and ironic clarity of Turgenev's finest writing'Next on the list Father and Sons


  5. Nick Nick says:

    This is a very nice collection of short stories and a couple of novella length stories Here are my ratingsThe diary of a superfluous man 25Mumu 5Asya 5First love 4 read in 2011King Lear of the steppes 5The song of triumphant love 35 a touch of the Arabian NightsMumu and Asya were the best in the collection


  6. Jessica Jessica says:

    O youth youth you have no concerns you possess as it were all the treasures of the universe even grief is a comfort to you even sadness suits your looks you are self assured and bold you say 'Look I'm the only one alive' while the very days of your life run away and vanish without trace and without number and everything in you disappears like wax like snow in the heat of the sun And perhaps the entire secret of your charm consists not in the possibility of doing everything but in the possibility of thinking you can do everything perhaps it consists precisely in the fact that you wantonly scatter on the wind energies that you wouldn't know how to use for anything else perhaps it consists in the fact that each one of us seriously regards himself as a spendthrift and seriously considers that he has the right to say 'Oh the things I could have done if only I hadn't wasted my time'


  7. Shyam Shyam says:

    For one forfeit I had to sit beside her both of us under the same silk scarf; I was supposed to tell her ‘my secret’ I remember how both our heads were suddenly plunged in a close fragrant almost transparent darkness and how close to me in this darkness her eyes shone softly; and I remember the warm breath from her parted lips the gleam of her teeth and how her hair tickled and burnt me I was silent She smiled mysteriously and slyly and finally whispered to me ‘Well?’ But I only blushed and laughed and turned away and could scarcely breatheI remember that at that time the image of woman the shadowy vision of feminine love scarcely ever took definite shape in my mind but in every thought in every sensation there lay hidden a half conscious shy timid awareness of something new inexpressibly sweet feminine This presentiment this sense of expectancy penetrate my whole being; I breathed it it was in every drop of blood that flowed through my veins I could not concentrate I could not do the simplest thing For whole days I did nothing but think intensely about her And in the meantime wasted my time in complete idleness Oh what could I not have done if only I had not wasted my time ‘Well then that’s agreed’ he said settling himself deeply into his armchair and lighting a cigarI was preparing for the University but worked little and slowlyNobody interfered with my freedom I did what I liked I have never seen anyone exuisitely calm self assured or imperiousBut through the tears and the melancholy inspired by the music of the verse or the beauty of the evening there always rose upwards like the grasses of early spring shoots of happy feeling of young and surging lifeMy rifle slipped to the grass; I forgot everything; my eyes devoured the graceful figure the lovely neck the beautiful arms the slightly dishevelled fair hair under the white kerchief—and the half closed perceptive eyes the lashes the soft cheek beneath them my heart leapt within me'Please make yourself at home We are very simple here’‘Too simple’ I could not help thinking with disgust as I took in her unsightly figureListen you don’t know me yet I am very strange I like your face I have a feeling that we shall be friends And do you like me? You do like me don’t you?I felt very uncomfortable during this conversationShe was walking slowly along the path holding a book in her hands She did not notice me I very nearly let her pass by but suddenly collected myself and coughed She turned round but did not stop With her hand she pushed back the broad blue ribbon of her round straw hat looked at me smiled gently and again turned her gaze to the bookI took off my cap and after shuffling a little walked away I made as if to move towards Zinaida but she did not even glance at me She raised her book again and walked awayI spent the whole of that evening and the following morning in a kind of dumb and frozen misery I remember I tried to work and opened Kaidanov but the broadly spaced lines and pages of the celebrated textbook flitted past my eyes in vain Ten times over I read to myself the words ‘Julius Caesar was distinguished for military valour’ understood nothing and threw the book asideWhat then was my astonishment when as she passed by me her face wearing its former warm expression she whispered uickly to me ‘Come and see us at eight o’clock do you hear? Don’t fail me’You see young man we are playing a game of forfeits The princess has had to pay a forfeit and the winner whoever draws the lucky ticket will have the right to kiss her hand m do you understand what I have just said?Everything became blurredThis silent lightning this controlled light seemed to answer to the mute and secret fires which were blazing within meTo belong to oneself that is the whole thing in lifeFrom that day on my ‘passion’ beganSometimes she flirted with me—and that would excite me and I would meltFrom that moment my real torment beganYou should be studying working—while you are young—instead of which you are doing what?A lot of work you do You’ve something else on your mind Whatever is in your heart is written all over your faceNow it is your business to paint the picture Sir Poet only I want th torches to b red and very smoky and I want the eyes of the Bacchantes to gleam under their wreaths and the wreaths of flowers must be dark and don’t forget the tiger skins and the goblets and the gold—lots of gold'And my friend Tonkosheyev in his Spanish novel El Trovador ’‘Oh is that the book with the uestion marks upside down?’‘Oh you re going to have another argument about classicism and romanticism‘Let’s play a game instead’‘Forfeits?’’No forfeits are boring Let’s play analogies’ Zinaida had invented this game herself An object would be named and everyone tried to compare it with something else The person who thought of the best analogy won the prize she asked to the window The sun had just set Long red clouds stood high in the sky‘What are those clouds like?’ Asked Zinaida and without waiting for our answer said ‘I think they are like those purple sails on the golden ship in which Cleopatra sailed to meet Antony Do you remember Maidanov? You were telling me about it not long ago’All of us like Polonius ni Hamlet decided that the clouds reminded us of precisely those sails and that none of us could find a better analogyI shall put your hair in my locket and I shall wear it this will perhaps comfort you a little ‘I am not fond a large company ’ I muttered without realising my eyes‘Oh you prefer a tête a tête?’I had started with the set purpose of giving myself up to gloomy reflections But youth the beauty of the day the freshness of the air the pleasure which comes from rapid walking the delicious sensation of lying on the thick grass far away from everyone alone—these proved too strong‘Give me your hand’ she said in the old caressing manner ‘We haven’t had a gossip for a long time’‘You don’t want me to love you—that’s what it is’ I burst out gloomily against my will’No Love me yes but not as before’‘Why what am I to do?’‘Let us be friends—that’s what’ Zinaida gave me the rose too smell ‘Listen I am after all much older than you I really might be your aunt—oh well perhaps not aunt but elder sister And you 'Great Heavens With what fresh force my love flamed up within me'Everywhere gold marble crystal silk Lights jewels flowers burning incense every extravagance of luxury'‘You like luxury?’‘Luxury is full of loveliness I adore all that is lovely’‘More than the beautiful?’’That sounds too clever—I don’t understand it Don’t interrupt’My blood was on fire and whirling within meThere is so much within me that is dark evil wicked And I was hers utterly hers from head to foot whenever she looked at meWhat I had learned was too much for me to manage In one swoop all my flowers were torn up by the roots and last about me—scattered broken trampled underfootYes this is it—this is love; this is passion; this is devotion'Really I am not like that I know that you have a low view of me'‘I?’'Yes you you ’‘I?’ I repeated painfully and my heart began to uiver as it always did under the spell of her irresistible inexpressible fascination ‘I? Believe me that whatever you did however much you made me suffer I shall love you and adore you to the end of my days’I cannot even begin to convey the feelings with which I left her I never wish to experience them again but I should count it a misfortune never to have had them at allThe main thing is to live a normal life and not to be carried away Otherwise what’s the use? Wherever the wave may carry you it will always turn out badly Better a rock to stand on so long as it’s on one’s own feetI was utterly stunned This I admit I did not expectI realised that this image of her this new image which had so suddenly arisen before me would live in my memory forever


  8. Bethan Bethan says:

    'The Diary of a Superfluous Man' sets the tone for classic Turgenev whose stories and novels are so often about unreuited or disappointed love I like this because so many novels go the opposite way and it exists in life 'Mumu' made me cry and I never or almost never cry at films or books Commentary about loneliness and alienation it is about a deaf and dumb servant and his dog'Asya' has a wonderful wild and hurried atmosphere like blackberries'First Love' is mature like a ripe peach or mandarin but still a rich fruit The character of Zinaida surrounded by her five suitors call to mind mythological stories but the character and what happens to her feels real and truthful 'King Lear of the Steppes' – Grey and coarser but what a powerful protagonist atmosphere and striking ending I think it does the Shakespeare story justice transplanted to contemporary Russia as it is 'The Song of Triumphant Love' – Another beautiful artifice about difficult love and heavily symbolic this time exotic and perfumed with an Italianate setting a mysterious Malay servant strange dreams music and riches from travel


  9. Linda Collings Linda Collings says:

    I absolutely adored all of these stories Sadly the last story was never finished so I couldn't give a full 5 stars If you love Russian classic literature read this


  10. Wil Wil says:

    Once again Turgenev came through for me After reading the first two short stories in this book I was left with a sense of longing of sehnsucht of olden timesI am surprised that I am so overcome by these romantic stories and I mean romantic not only in the love stories themselves but in the seductive descriptions the uaint charming settings; they remind me of stories that I used to read in my childhood Turgenev likes to tell us how a person's character will change in the future in a future not covered by the story perhaps as a device to further character development? To invite doubt in our feelings for the person? I don't know In Spring Torrents he begins by telling us how Sanin was filled by taedium vitae even though he has just had brilliant conversation in the company of agreeable women and educated men Yet the rest of the story is filled by Sanin's zest for life and how he discovered that zest very young We can only assume that he lost it and became this other person; this person we really don't get to knowMy favourite uote of First Love is and perhaps the whole secret of your enchantment lies not indeed in your power to do whatever you may will but in your power to think that there is nothing you will not do


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