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what she meant by this, but the guard hurried us along. For a long time her words echoed in my mind. What could she have meant? Why should we possibly think of them as “wild beasts”? Because they were so poorly dressed, even as compared with us? Or because they had taken our land and were treating the people in it as wild beasts would? I couldn’t forget the words of this “free” girl, spoken to me, being driven in a cattle car no body knew where. The train reached golden- domed Kiev. We managed to get through to the little window, usually firmly blocked by our fel- low-travellers. Here they appar ently tacitly acknowledged our right to look out also. My broth er and I stood glued to the win dow. The train had stopped on a bridge, under us was a broad ex panse of river. In the golden light of the setting sun we saw the step banks of the Dnipro River. Slowly, hardly moving, the train inched its way along the bridge. We could barely glimpse the Volodymyr Hill, where we thought we could just see the monument to St. Volody myr. The sun gilded the domes of the many churches. We gazed out at the capital of Ukraine, the city we had dreamed about and longed to visit. The train stopped again. Our companions in the car were silent. Silently, word lessly we concentrated on the un forgettable view, hallowed and golden in the rays of the setting sun. Hello, Kiev. Farewell, Kiev. Then the train sped on east ward. Where was it headed? Nei ther the guards, who brought us bread or released us to go for water, nor the people who stood to watch the train go by would answer our questions. In the towns and villages where we stopped for water we sometimes passed quite close to people, but they didn’t speak to us either. There were all kinds of people at the train stations — young, old, surrounded by children and bun dles. They looked at us, we looked at them. Where were they going? (Тз Ьз concluded) K u lis h , P a n te le im o n . T H E B L A C K C O U N C IL . A b r id g e d a nd tr a n s la te d f r o m U k r a in ia n b y G e o rg e S. N . L u c k y j a n d M o i r a L u c k y j . W i t h a n in t r o d u c tio n b y R o m a n a B a h r i j P ik u ly k . L i t tle to n , C o lo ra d o , U k r a in ia n A c a d e m ic P re ss, 1973. 125 pages. ( U k r a in ia n cla ssics in tr a n s la tio n , N o . 2 ) . $7.50. One can hardly expect an Eng lish translation of C h o rn a Rada — a mid 19th century Ukrainian novel — to become a best-seller in contemporary America. Nei ther, for that matter, would one expect a novel of Sir Walter Scott’s — to whom the. author of C h o rn a R a d a has been compared — to become a best-seller today. T h e B la c k C o u n c il, however, is an important publication and it deserves a wide distribution among people interested in Ukrainian literature and history. C h o rn a R a d a was the first novel in modern Ukrainian liter ature. It is a historical novel set in the 17th century post-Khmel- nytsky Cossack Ukraine. The pe riod is one of internal turmoil, of power struggle between poli tical factions, of smoldering con flicts between social classes. It is also a romantic novel with colorful heroes, picturesque cus toms of the Zaporozhians, duels, kidnappings and a sentimental love story. Panteleimon Kulish, a contem porary and a friend of Shevchen ko, was a highly educated man of many talents. He wrote poetry, novels, plays, historical, biogra phical and ethnographical stud ies. He was also a translator of Shakespeare and Byron as well as of the German poets Goethe, Schiller and Heine. Soviet liter ary critics describe Panteleimon Kulish (who — unlike Shevchen ko — came from an upper-class land-owning family) as a “reac tionary” writer of “bourgeois nationalistic” principles. Even though they cannot ignore him completely, they attempt to min imize his importance in the de velopment of Ukrainian litera ture. This Soviet stand makes an English study and an English translation of P. Kulish even more welcome. Publishers claim to the contrary, however, this is not the first translation of C h o rn a R a d a into English. There was a previous one done by Ste phen Shumeyko, which was pub lished serially in the U k r a in ia n W e e k ly in 1942-43. The present translation, however, is the first one to appear in book form. The translators have taken some liberties with Kulish’s style; they also admit to having abbreviated the text by some 10,000 words. The purists could probably take an issue with the translators on many a point; the only thing that bothers this re viewer is calling Cherevanykha — Mrs. Cherevan and her daugh ter — a “Miss.” On the whole, however, the translation is of high quality and very readable. Not only the structure and char acters, but also the spirit of C h o rn a R a d a are preserved faithfully. The 16-page introductory ev say by Romana Bahrij Pikulyk is the best critical study of Pante leimon Kulish available in Eng lish. W O M E N ’S D A Y March 8th is celebrated as “Women’s Day” in the 'USSR. Technically, it is a day to honor the woman as a fighter for the revolution and the present re gime. To the many who bear the heavy yoke of tyranny it could represent a culminative celebra tion of all the holidays made null and void by the Soviet dictator ship, beginning with Mother’s Day and ending with Christmas. The day is a happy one. There is music, dancing and parties. Women wear flowers and take off from work. They bake their favorite cakes and exchange gifts.
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