We seem to be getting used to the idea of truncating literary classics: Orion recently launched a series of "compact editions" of such works as Moby Dick, Middlemarch and Bleak House. But some people's tolerance clearly has a limit, especially where the jewel of Russian literature, War and Peace, is concerned. A blistering war of words has broken out over Andrew Bromfield's new slimline (886-page) translation of Tolstoy's epic, which has just been published by Ecco. Academics across Russia have denounced it as an act of desecration. And Richard Pevear, co-translator of Vintage's new full-length (1,267-page) edition, which has been widely hailed as "the greatest ever translation," doesn't seem too happy either: in an open letter, he denounced Ecco's "philistine attitude towards Tolstoy."
But it all comes down to a misunderstanding, according to Bromfield. His translation, he says, is not "Tolstoy-lite" ("the amount of effort involved would make that a foolish enterprise"), but actually a different book entirely, based on a text Tolstoy wrote for a Russian journal several years before the now standard version appeared. Yet if this is the case, why has Ecco made so little effort to draw attention to this provenance? It has kept the same title, and is touting Bromfield's work as "twice as short, four times as interesting… more peace, less war"—in other words, very much Tolstoy-lite.
Still, we should bear in mind that the blizzard of publicity surrounding the spat probably won't do either publisher much harm.
Amis/Eagleton live
Having sparked off one of the titanic intellectual struggles of our times on these pages two months ago, it seems fitting that Prospect should once again be pushing at the cutting edge of journalism with our first ever live blog from a public debate. On 3rd December, professors Terry Eagleton and Martin Amis of Manchester University will be discussing literature and terrorism (not to mention Eagleton's description of Amis's father as "a racist, antisemitic boor") at Whitworth Hall in Manchester in front of 600 eager intellectuals—among whom will be an intrepid Prospect reporter, live-blogging the event on First Drafts, Prospect's blog. Join us from 6.30pm to follow the big match live at First Drafts. Comments welcome.
Scots stand-off
The propaganda war between Alex Salmond and Gordon Brown has become part of the political landscape. The SNP loses no opportunity to demonstrate the widening gap between the two administrations. Now the battle has moved on to the sporting arena. Salmond has helped pull off a notable coup by landing the Commonwealth Games for Glasgow in 2014, just two years after the London Olympics. Salmond has noted the escalating costs of the London event, and is determined to show that the Glasgow games will be delivered on time and under budget. Scotland the prudent will be contrasted with England the profligate. Since Salmond's latest target date for independence is 2017, he clearly hopes that athletics will give him an inside track.
Story award
The 2008 National Short Story award—a prize Prospect helped found in 2005—has been relaunched, with a new name (it is now an "award," not a "prize") and a new sponsor in the BBC. The winner once again receives £15,000, with £3,000 for the runner-up and £500 each for three further authors. All five shortlisted stories will be broadcast on Radio 4. The deadline for submissions is 22nd January. Details at theshortstory.org.uk
Lost liberty
Liberty, the civil rights group, is losing its position as a player in the counterterrorism debate. Its mid-November report, which purported to provide a rigorous international comparison of pre-charge detention periods, was sheer propaganda—making even the US look liberal compared to Britain (Guantánamo? the Patriot Act?). Unfortunately for Liberty, just after the report was published, it emerged that the suspects in the murder of the British student Meredith Kercher in Perugia could spend up to a year in custody without being charged, contrary to Liberty's claim that Italy had a four-day limit.
Part of the problem is that it is hard to compare common law and Napoleonic systems. In France, for example, the examining magistrate has to make a charge within six days, but this is often just a "holding" charge, based on the idea that there is enough evidence to require further inquiry. After this, the suspect can be held for years before coming to trial. In Britain, by contrast, police are expected to charge suspects with what they are believed to have done and then get them to trial swiftly. Also unmentioned by Liberty is the fact that in France, a suspect can be held for three days after arrest without a lawyer present, and without interview-taping.
It is, however, true that the British government has failed to make the case for extending the pre-charge period from 28 to 58 days. The best idea has come from Alex Carlile, the Lib Dem peer and reviewer of terrorism legislation, who wants more flexibility. He believes many people are already held for too long, but he will accept going beyond 28 days in extremis. The answer is for investigating judges to ensure that no one is held for too long or too short a time.
Blogging about a revolution
But dissidents in Pakistan are now using blogs to drive, as well as publicise, their campaign. On 7th November, students used a Facebook group to co-ordinate simultaneous demonstrations at four universities in Islamabad and Lahore. And text messages—in recent weeks Pakistanis have been sending an estimated 500m a day—have enabled protestors to gather and disperse before police even arrive.
Not all blogs express support for the largely intelligentsia-led insurrection. Baithak.blogspot.com asks: "Are the bloggers… protesting too much from a pedestal? Will this peter out?" And high-volume web traffic is no guarantor of imminent revolution. At last count there were more than 64,000 blogs in Iran.
Proudly rejected
One of the least glamorous aspects of the editor's life is the "slush pile"—the heap of unsolicited submissions that lurks at the edge of most desks, awaiting, in 99 per cent of cases, polite refusal. It's a twilight world of dashed hopes and harassed readers, and yet it seems to have joined the ranks of those once opaque areas of life now thrown open to scrutiny via the internet. Several new sites offer authors the opportunity to display their rejection letters—and turn the tables on those hated editors. At rejectioncollection.com, each supplicant publishes the text of an especially cutting refusal and then provides a response to the question "How did this letter make you feel?". At the "Writer, rejected" blog you can read daily updates on the organs that have deigned not to publish the author (the New Yorker has a special section). These days, it seems, no one can take "no" for an answer.
Marvellous Mailer
Norman Mailer was a drunken brawler with wife-beating tendencies who was obsessed with being macho and who hated feminism. But there was also something marvellous about his spirit and ambition, his willingness to take on all-comers no matter how hopeless the cause and how ridiculous he seemed. That spirit was evident in the famous televised New York Town Hall debate of 1971, when he took on most of the day's leading "women's libbers," including Germaine Greer and Susan Sontag. Watching the event now, what is noticeable is how much fun everyone seemed to be having, despite the heated nature of the debate and outrageous views being expressed. Something of that tone—simultaneously light-hearted and serious—has been lost from public discourse.
Imperial rector with a past
In June this year, Imperial College London announced that Roy Anderson, a distinguished epidemiologist and former chief scientific adviser to the MoD, would succeed Richard Sykes to become rector next year. An internationally renowned academic and researcher, Anderson is amply qualified for this ambassadorial role in the British scientific establishment. Yet some, including the former director of the Wellcome Trust, Bridget Ogilvie, have remarked to Prospect that parts of the scientific community were "very surprised" at Anderson's selection in view of the controversies seven years ago that surrounded his professorship at Oxford.
The first scandal arose when Anderson accused a female colleague of having won support for her post via a relationship with her head of department—a claim he was eventually forced to retract as untrue, and which was a major factor in his subsequent resignation from Oxford. At around the same time, Anderson's resignation from the board of the Wellcome Trust was announced, prompted in part by his failure fully to disclose his relationship with a private biomedical consultancy during his time at Oxford, in breach of the trust's financial guidelines.
It should, of course, be emphasised that Anderson did nothing illegal; he has always been admired as a dynamic leader, and some feel that the "Oxford scandals" can now be set aside as isolated incidents in an otherwise unblemished career. It will be interesting to see what he makes of his new position.
