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Zusatztext “The English-speaking world is indebted to these two translators.” —Orlando Figes! The New York Review of Books “Excellent. . . . The duo has managed to convey the rather simple elegance of Tolstoy’s prose.” — The New Criterion “Pevear and Volokhonsky’s new version is . . . flexible individuated! immediate.” — The Nation “Well translated. As a lover of Tolstoy’s work! one couldn’t ask for more! and I can’t recommend it highly enough.” —André Alexis! The Globe and Mail (Toronto) Informationen zum Autor Leo Tolstoy Klappentext Hailed as one of the world's supreme masterpieces on the subject of death and dying, The Death of Ivan Ilyich is the story of a worldly careerist, a high court judge who has never given the inevitability of his death so much as a passing thought. But one day death announces itself to him, and to his shocked surprise he is brought face to face with his own mortality. How, Tolstoy asks, does an unreflective man confront his one and only moment of truth? This short novel was the artistic culmination of a profound spiritual crisis in Tolstoy's life, a nine-year period following the publication of Anna Karenina during which he wrote not a word of fiction. A thoroughly absorbing and, at times, terrifying glimpse into the abyss of death, it is also a strong testament to the possibility of finding spiritual salvation. Leseprobe CHAPTER 1 In the large building housing the Law Courts, during a recess in the Melvinsky proceedings, members of the court and the public prosecutor met in the office of Ivan Egorovich Shebek, where the conversation turned on the celebrated Krasov case. Fyodor Vasilyevich vehemently denied that it was subject to their jurisdiction, Ivan Egorovich clung to his own view, while Pyotr Ivanovich, who had taken no part in the dispute from the outset, glanced through a copy of the News that had just been delivered. "Gentlemen!" he said. "Ivan Ilyich is dead." "Really?" "Here, read this," he said to Fyodor Vasilyevich, handing him the fresh issue, still smelling of printer's ink. Framed in black was the following announcement: "With profound sorrow Praskovya Fyodorovna Golovina informs relatives and acquaintances that her beloved husband, Ivan Ilyich Golovin, Member of the Court of Justice, passed away on the 4th of February, 1882. The funeral will be held on Friday at one o'clock." Ivan Ilyich had been a colleague of the gentlemen assembled here and they had all been fond of him. He had been ill for some weeks and his disease was said to be incurable. His post had been kept open for him, but it had been speculated that in the event of his death Alekseev might be appointed to his place and either Vinnikov or Shtabel succeed Alekseev. And so the first thought that occurred to each of the gentlemen in this office, learning of Ivan Ilyich's death, was what effect it would have on their own transfers and promotions or those of their acquaintances. "Now I'm sure to get Shtabel's post or Vinnikov's," thought Fyodor Vasilyevich. "It was promised to me long ago, and the promotion will mean an increase of eight hundred rubles in salary plus an allowance for office expenses." "I must put in a request to have my brother-in-law transferred from Kaluga," thought Pyotr Ivanovich. "My wife will be very happy. Now she won't be able to say I never do anything for her family." "I had a feeling he'd never get over it," said Pyotr Ivanovich. "Sad." "What, exactly, was the matter with him?" "The doctors couldn't decide. That is, they decided, but in different ways. When I last saw him, I thought he would recover." "And I haven't been there since the holidays. I kept meaning to go." "Was he a man of any means?" "His wife has a little so...
