What seekest thou?/What are you looking for? The navigation tabs will help you find your way. All tabs link to other pages on this site. If a link goes off-site, I will warn you.
I think I’m going to be putting a lot of stuff up here. Hey, it’s my website, and I can do what I want. Feel free to look around…
Publications (links go to wherever the piece is published):
(this section will probably move somewhere else eventually, but it’s here for now)
“The Luck Gene” (2022) from Pointless Stories… (written 2018), published by Every Day Fiction. Read it here!
10/15/21 — “Rubbish Boy” (1915) by Yevgeny Zamyatin, on the blog page, my translation
10/14/21 — “Cherubim” (1917) by Yevgeny Zamyatin, on the blog page, my translation
12/22/20 — Attila: A Tragedy in Four Acts (1928) by Yevgeny Zamyatin, my translation. Also available in paperback.
12/2/20 — Excerpt from The Scourge of God (1935, pub. posth. 1938) by Yevgeny Zamyatin, my translation (the entire novella will be available in 2022… when I’ve finished polishing it)
10/19/20 — “Pyotr Petrovich” (1916) by Yevgeny Zamyatin, on the blog page, my translation
10/18/20 — “God” (1915) by Yevgeny Zamyatin, on the blog page, my translation
9/14/20 — “Pictures” (1916) by Yevgeny Zamyatin, on the blog page, my translation
9/10/20 — “The Pirate Princess” (1816) by Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, my paraphrase of the Zev Silverman translation (both 2019). You can also show us your love by buying it on Amazon!
What’s at Milemarker 79? More information coming soon.
Website tagline: “And rolleth under foot as dooth a bal” from “The Knight’s Tale” in The Canterbury Tales (1392) by Geoffrey Chaucer. Lines 2604-2614, below.
Ther seen men who kan juste and who kan ryde;
Ther shyveren shaftes upon sheeldes thikke;
He feeleth thurgh the herte-spoon the prikke.
Up spryngen speres twenty foot on highte;
Out goon the swerdes as the silver brighte;
The helmes they tohewen and toshrede;
Out brest the blood with stierne stremes rede;
With myghty maces the bones they tobreste.
He thurgh the thikkeste of the throng gan threste;
Ther stomblen steedes stronge, and doun gooth al,
He rolleth under foot as dooth a bal […]
Which means, more or less
There people see who can joust and who can ride;
There shiver shafts upon thick shields;
He feels the prick through his heart’s bone (breastbone).
Up spring spears twenty feet tall;
Out go swords bright as silver;
They hew and shred the helmets;
Out bursts blood in strong red streams;
They break the bones with mighty maces.
Through the thickest of the throng he thrusts;
There stumble strong steeds, and down everybody goes,
He rolls under foot like a ball.
As you can see, it loses some (all) of the poetry and drama in modern English. And since it’s really not that different, I would recommend reading the original...