From Pushkin’s Eugene Onegin: Idle again by dedication, oppressed by emptiness of soul, he strove to achieve the appropriation of other’s thought – a splendid goal; with shelves of books deployed for action, he read, and read – no satisfaction: here’s boredom, madness or pretence, here there’s no conscience, here no sense; they’re all chained up […]

I’ve been told that it’s impossible to truly appreciate Pushkin’s Eugene Onegin unless you read it in Russian.  I may not recognize how truly great the poetry is, but I had a wonderful time reading it regardless.  A gazillion critics have written gazillions of pages on the poem and you might enjoy poking through a […]