I have finished translating Dostoevsky’s Demons into Swedish. I am tired, which is perhaps the proper condition in which to finish this book. For months I have lived with people who talk too much, think too much, contradict themselves, humiliate themselves, lie to others and, more importantly, lie to themselves. I have grown very fond of some of them.
The hardest part was not understanding the Russian. It was resisting the temptation to improve it. Dostoevsky repeats himself. He rushes. He stops. His sentences sometimes seem to lose their way because the person speaking has lost his way. Polish all that into elegant Swedish and you may end up with better Swedish, but less Dostoevsky.
So that became the principle: don’t make him respectable. Let the Swedish become nervous when he is nervous, ugly when he is ugly, ridiculous when he is ridiculous. Let people keep their repetitions, their bad manners and their obsessions.
Now it is done, and I don’t have anything very profound to say about it. I think I need to sleep. But I already miss them.
If you’re interested in the translation, write to me at patrik@patrikbergman.com.
