Latest news with #Dostoevsky
Yemenat
4 days ago
- Politics
- Yemenat
Volgograd
Our second destination, according to the itinerary, was the city of 'Volgograd,' located over a thousand kilometers from the capital, Moscow. The name 'Stalingrad' became widely known during World War II, as it witnessed some of the most significant battles, lasting approximately six months according to various sources. The human casualties reached around two million, leading some to classify it as one of the bloodiest battles in the history of warfare. It is essential, from a contrasting perspective, to highlight some of the horrors of those wars and the catastrophic results they leave behind. During World War II, the United States dropped two atomic bombs on the Japanese cities of 'Hiroshima' and 'Nagasaki,' resulting in an immediate death toll of over 120,000, with more than double that number succumbing later to the effects of nuclear radiation, not to mention the injured. Most of the victims were civilians, and over 90% of the buildings and infrastructure in both cities were destroyed. Wars are terrifying and grotesque in ways that surpass imagination, and sometimes even perception. A Japanese woman who survived one of the nuclear explosions recounted her experience: 'I was twelve years old… I saw a flash like lightning, or what seemed like tens of thousands of lightning strikes lighting up at once, followed by a tremendous explosion. Suddenly, darkness enveloped the place. When I regained consciousness, I found my hair wilted, my clothes torn, my skin peeling off my body, my flesh exposed, and my bones visible. Everyone was suffering from severe burns, crying and screaming, wandering like a procession of ghosts. Our city was cloaked in utter darkness after it had just been alive.' (Source: Wikipedia) * * * In this context, we can take a moment to raise an objective critique with an ethical and humanitarian dimension concerning wars, including the conflict we are experiencing here in Yemen. It is one of the dirty wars we endure while the world's conscience remains unmoved, failing to act seriously to stop it, even though it could have prevented it from occurring in the first place. We pause here before the questions raised by Dostoevsky's novel 'Crime and Punishment': Why do we condemn the miserable student who kills the usurer in the narrative, yet not condemn the leader who sends his soldiers to death for the sake of his own glory? Why does Napoleon have the right to kill, and America the right to drop nuclear bombs, while Raskolnikov is not permitted to kill the usurer, who with her wealth could free him—and perhaps many others—from poverty? Why do we find ourselves inclined, while reading the novel, to side with Raskolnikov, the murderer of the usurer, urging him to surrender himself for justice and moral reasons? We hear the call: 'Awake… rise this very moment, stand at the crossroads, and bow… kiss the earth you have defiled. Then, kneel before the world on all fours, and proclaim loudly to everyone… Yes, yes, I have killed.' Yet, we do not demand that those who have slaughtered thousands, hundreds of thousands, and millions do the same as Raskolnikov! Why do we advocate for Raskolnikov's costly penance through hard labor for the rest of his life, while refraining from demanding punishment for those who have driven countless human beings into the hell of wars, death, and famine? What about those who have destroyed their own peoples, impoverished them, or oppressed them for ideological reasons, believing they possess absolute truth, or claiming they are the rightful owners of justice, with their actions deemed legitimate and beyond reproach? What of those who orchestrated wars, nurtured them out of greed, vengeance, or the desire for glory, or to reclaim lost glory? These questions are not intended to justify crime in any form, but rather to inquire: Why this profound absence of justice? Why does justice not reach the grand criminals as it does the lesser ones? What we need is justice for all. We require justice that addresses the major criminals before the minor ones, to deter crime and limit the atrocities being committed, ensuring that the scales and standards of justice we seek remain intact. In this regard, we can also speak of the genocide of the Native Americans, the indigenous peoples of America, and the subjugation of those who remain. We can discuss the war crimes committed by the United States in Vietnam, Iraq, and elsewhere, as well as the war crimes perpetrated by the French in Algeria and the Turks against the Armenians. All such wars involve perpetrators who refuse to compensate those nations or even apologize for the horrific wars these countries have waged against them. * * * Returning to the city we visited, awarded the title 'Hero City,' it was included in our itinerary due to its significant military history during World War II, as it marked a turning point in the war, altering the balance in favor of the Soviet Union. 'Volgograd' is its old name, changed in 1925 to 'Stalingrad.' After Stalin's death and the decline of 'Stalinism,' as labeled by his successor Nikita Khrushchev, the city reverted to its original name 'Volgograd,' closely associated with the Volga River, stretching along the right bank of the river for 30 kilometers Oh my God… What is that I see in the distance?! Who is this woman whose head touches the sky, wielding a sword against the heavens? What is her story? Which artist crafted this masterpiece? How did he accomplish it? And how long did it take to achieve this magnificent form we behold? The first thing that captivates you upon arriving at the outskirts of the city is the grand memorial visible from afar—a statue of a woman brandishing a sword, known as 'Motherland,' perched on a high hill. It stands as a towering figure, overlooking the city with majesty, dignity, and valor. At that time, this statue was the tallest sculpture in the world, reaching a height of 85 meters, erected in memory of the victims of the Battle of Stalingrad, fought between the Soviet Union and Germany in 1942 and 1943. The statue of the woman holding the sword became a symbol of the city. Among the city's landmarks is what is known as the 'Celestial Sphere,' along with memorials, statues, museums, theaters, concert halls, and artworks. It is also home to factories, facilities, and urban development, as well as the Volga River, the largest and most abundant river in all of Europe. The name 'Volga,' according to sources, means 'river of the east,' a title bestowed by the river basin's inhabitants since ancient times, stretching over 3,500 kilometers. As for 'grad,' associated with the river's name, it means 'city.' * * * Under the Celestial Sphere, we took our seats. The lights were dimmed… An extraordinary phenomenon transported us to a realm of wonder and amazement. I forgot I was seated in a chair; I forgot who I was and where I came from! I felt as if I were swimming in space, like a star, a planet, or an astronaut. I became lost in the cosmos, disoriented by the vastness around me, until I lost my sense of self and the familiar directions of east, west, north, and south. Everything here revolved… spinning around me until I felt dizzy. An entire hour was spent soaring among stars, planets, galaxies, and universes—a cosmic knowledge that I shall remember for the rest of my days. * * * We visited the Panorama Museum, which depicts the 'Battle of Stalingrad' during World War II, showcasing a summary of resilience and valor, and the glory of victory. Amid the many epics and heroics captured in photographs, statues, and remnants of war, what caught my eye were the impressive portraits of the Allied leaders—Churchill, Roosevelt, and Stalin. These were the victorious heads of state who gathered post-war to divide the world among themselves. The world became a dominion for the victors; territories were laid out on the table as spoils of war and influence, igniting a new kind of struggle among them—a Cold War that lasted for decades. Many nations paid heavy and costly prices, and some continue to pay for the victors even to this day. Even many 'deceived' communist parties in European countries like Britain and France were shocked by the results of this division, stunned to feel abandoned, realizing that the spoils of war were shared among the victors. It was jarring to see great principles reduced to mere empty words when it came to plunder. The reality was starkly different, as the world was carved up among the victors of this catastrophic and horrific war against the peoples of the earth. We also visited the remnants of a building known as 'Pavlov's House,' which witnessed an extraordinary and legendary resistance against the occupiers. A bastion of defenders stood valiantly against the invaders, engaging in fierce battles for control. Ultimately, those who held out triumphed, and the building still retains many of its walls that narrate the legend of resistance and resilience of this heroic city—a scene reflecting the ferocity of war and the bravery of its defenders.
The Spinoff
6 days ago
- Lifestyle
- The Spinoff
Help Me Hera: There aren't enough hours in the day
There's so much I want to do before I die, and nowhere near enough time to do it. Want Hera's help? Email your problem to helpme@ Hi Hera, I've recently gotten into consistently going to the gym, and rowing, this year. Over 100 workouts, and consistent rowing trainings per week. I'm stoked! I made a tough decision to stop boxing during lunch, in order to focus on rowing and gym. I'm pretty stoked about my lifestyle, but… There are dozens of unread books on my to-be-read list. There are unwritten poems and short stories. There are un-made DJ sets I'd like to spend hours working away on. There are also volunteering commitments I'd like to get involved in. Please, how do I manage the mental process of opportunity costs? I wish I had more hours in the day… if only the earth rotated slower (with all respect to natural physics)! Sincerely, Temporally Challenged Dear Temporally Challenged, Not only is the earth not rotating slower, it's actually rotating faster than usual for complicated gravitational factors relating to the proximity of the moon, costing us valuable milliseconds that could otherwise be spent pumping iron and reading Dostoevsky. Even the solar system isn't exempt from shrinkflation. Thanks for your question. I don't know what sort of disease you have which makes you want to spend your lunchtimes exercising instead of mindlessly scrolling your newsfeed, but good for you. It's nice to get a problem where someone's so enthusiastic about the abundance of opportunities this world has to offer they're having to earnestly reckon with the fact of their own mortality. The bad news is that you are going to die. Not only will you die, but you'll die without experiencing more than a fraction of the world's bounty, and no amount of pomodoro timers or productivity hacks will make this any less devastating. So how do you make the most of the time that you have? There are two ways to think about this.. The first is by accepting that life is scandalously brief, there's a limit to what one person can meaningfully accomplish, and you need to prioritise the things that matter most before you're dead. The second is accepting that life is meant to be lived, not ergonomically optimised for maximum efficiency. Let's start with the big picture. Your question is probably beyond the scope of a single advice column, but I do have a book recommendation for you. Oliver Burkeman's Four Thousand Weeks is an excellent book about deciding how to allocate your time. He makes a good case that choosing the areas of your life in which you want to excel also means choosing the areas of your life which will suffer. As Burkeman points out, if you really want to write that novel or build that canoe, the only way to get it done is to prioritise it at the expense of your never-ending list of chores and responsibilities. That doesn't mean you can get away with ignoring the dishes in your singleminded pursuit of greatness. But you need to be intentional about the amount of time you devote to this stuff, because you are what you do, and what you don't want to be is 'someone who is really fast at replying to emails.' However, there's such a thing as being too optimised. Time isn't a currency to be invested, or a resource to be exploited. Time is first and foremost, our home. In the words of Larkin: Days are where we live. They come, they wake us Time and time over. They are to be happy in: Where can we live but days? It would be a shame, I think, to be so clinical about your ambitions, that you don't leave any time for laying around on your ass ' totally watching television.' In general, I think it's empowering to make a few big decisions about how you want to spend your life, and quietly work towards them. But accidents and failures often pave the way for big revelations which change our lives in ways we can't anticipate. We're only just beginning to grapple with the consequences of living in a world in which it's possible to completely eradicate boredom, and I worry about what this means for our attention spans. Failure can lead to profound emotional discoveries. Boredom engenders creativity. Childhood is precious, precisely because it's wasted. All of which is to say, things will go wrong with your plans, and that's fine. There's no shame in abandoning a dream which no longer suits you. The big thing is to have a dream. I think there's also a good case to be made for delaying a few pleasures. Don't trudge your way through the entire canon of Russian literature at age 16, just because it's on your list. There's always the risk you die young without ever having read Crime and Punishment. But life isn't to be gotten out of the way early. It's fine to save a few aspirations for the correct psychological moment. Maybe that solo trip to Nicaragua hits harder at 40 than it does at 19. My one boring time management tip is to get into audiobooks. In my opinion, there are very few activities in life (cooking, cleaning, gardening, exercising) that can't be improved by a dramatic retelling of The Count of Monte Cristo. So next time you hop on the rowing machine, cue up Four Thousand Weeks and give it a try.
Time of India
15-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Time of India
9 anime only a genius will understand
Source: Wikifandom Some anime is popcorn. These are puzzles . This isn't your Saturday background binge — it's a full-brain workout. These shows twist timelines, question reality, and unpack psychology like it's a party trick. They're not just deep — they're intelligent, complex, and emotionally exhausting (in the best way). If you love symbolism, layered storytelling, and debating endings on Reddit at 2 AM, you're in the right place. Welcome to the top 9 anime for geniuses — the kind of stories that make you smarter just by surviving them. Buckle up. You're about to be entertained, emotionally ruined, and intellectually blessed. 9 anime series for geniuses like you Monster Source: Crunchyroll This slow-burn thriller is the anime's answer to Dostoevsky. Dr. Tenma's decision to save one life over another unleashes Johan Liebert — a villain so softly terrifying, he'll haunt your brain like a quiet scream. Monster isn't about action — it's about morality, guilt, trauma, and what happens when you stare too long into the abyss. Every frame oozes tension, every arc peels back something darker. It's not for casuals — it's for smart, introspective viewers who want a brilliantly written psychological mystery that feels less like anime and more like literature. by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like An engineer reveals: One simple trick to get internet without a subscription Techno Mag Undo Steins;Gate Source: Crunchyroll Time travel with real stakes? Steins;Gate is a rare mix of genius-level sci-fi and emotional depth. Okabe's goofy exterior hides a painful descent into tragedy as he realises that every timeline costs something — sometimes everything. Quantum physics, butterfly effects, multiple world theories — all wrapped in a narrative that's both heartbreaking and head-spinning. This isn't your average smart anime. It breaks you emotionally and intellectually at the same time. El Psy Congroo, bb. Serial Experiments Lain Source: Crunchyroll Lain is what happens when the internet becomes self-aware and your sense of self disintegrates. What starts as a shy schoolgirl navigating digital messages quickly spirals into a slow, glitchy unravelling of reality. This show predicted internet identity, digital consciousness, and online isolation before those were even terms. There's no hand-holding — just silence, static, and one of the most brilliant, disturbing, intelligent plots in anime history. Lain doesn't explain itself. But if you're smart enough to decode it, you're in for a philosophical masterpiece. Neon Genesis Evangelion Source: Crunchyroll People think Evangelion is about robots. Those people are wrong. It's about broken kids, metaphysical trauma, religious symbolism, and the sheer existential weight of being alive. Shinji, Asuka , and Rei aren't just characters — they're case studies. Every angel battle is a metaphor, and every ending (yes, all of them) makes less sense until it makes too much sense. It's uncomfortable, abstract, and dense — an intelligent, emotional fever dream that leaves you spiritually shaken. Welcome to the anime that launched a thousand therapy sessions. Paranoia Agent Source: Crunchyroll A golden bat. A boy on rollerblades. And society is crumbling under the weight of its collective delusions. Paranoia Agent starts as a murder mystery and morphs into a cultural critique wrapped in surrealism. Every character represents a social lie, every scene a symbol. It's smart, weird, and way too real. For viewers who love symbolism, psychological chaos, and complex narrative structures, this anime hits different. Satoshi Kon didn't come to comfort you — he came to wake you up. Ergo Proxy Source: Crunchyroll Ergo Proxy drops you into a bleak future and doesn't explain a thing — and that's the charm. It's dystopian, philosophical, and unapologetically smart. As Re-L investigates a string of murders involving ' AutoReivs ,' the show dives into themes like identity, death, memory, and free will — all while quoting Descartes and Nietzsche like it's casual conversation. The story is cryptic, the visuals gothic, and the existential dread? Chef's kiss. It's for people who love deep, intelligent anime that isn't afraid to make you feel lost. Paprika Source: Crunchyroll Before Inception made dreams cool, Paprika turned them into technicolour chaos. This Satoshi Kon film is a visual and philosophical explosion, diving into dreamscapes, identity, and subconscious desire. It's dazzling, overwhelming, and designed to make your brain go 'wait, what?' every 10 seconds. But underneath the madness lies a brilliantly intelligent commentary on the boundary between reality and imagination. You'll need multiple viewings — and maybe a strong espresso — but the genius is worth the effort. Kaiba Source: Crunchyroll Looking like a Saturday morning cartoon but thinking like a post-human thesis, Kaiba is a brilliant sci-fi story about memory, class, and consciousness. In a world where your soul can be copied, stolen, or erased, what does it mean to be 'you'? Beneath the strange shapes and pastel colours is a deep, emotional exploration of inequality and loss. This is smart anime in disguise — unsettling, beautiful, and impossible to forget. The Tatami Time Machine Blues Source: Crunchyroll This hilarious yet intricately plotted time-travel anime proves that genius doesn't always have to be grim. A busted AC sets off a temporal mess of overlapping loops, ridiculous logic, and surprisingly deep thoughts. It's the perfect follow-up to Tatami Galaxy , but this time with more chaos, more meta, and more room for brainy laughs. A great pick for the smart viewers who love clever writing, complex structure, and time loops that fold in on themselves like origami. These aren't anime you watch while folding laundry. These are the ones you pause, analyse, rewatch, and emotionally recover from. They're layered, experimental, and perfect for genius-level viewers who want more than surface-level thrills. So, whether you're chasing symbolism, decoding philosophy, or just looking for a story that respects your IQ, this list is your playground. Also read| Top 10 Naruto wallpapers for desktop, mobiles, tablets and more every true fan will love
Yemenat
19-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yemenat
When Translation Betrays the Text: How Errors Create Entirely New Meanings
Translation is far more than the mechanical act of converting words from one language to another; it is an intricate art that requires deep cultural and contextual understanding. While the primary aim is to preserve the original meaning, translation errors can sometimes result in unintended consequences, ones that reshape concepts and introduce entirely new interpretations never intended by the original author. These mistakes may result from a misinterpretation of context, an overly literal translation, or an inadequate understanding of linguistic and cultural nuances, all of which can be a recipe for disaster. Throughout history, mistranslations have played a role in shaping significant events. One of the most infamous examples is the mistranslation of Japan's response during World War II. When the United States demanded Japan's unconditional surrender, the Japanese Prime Minister used the word 'Mokusatsu', which can mean either 'no comment' or 'contempt' in Japanese. When it was mistakenly translated into English as 'contempt,' the U.S. assumed Japan was rejecting negotiations, a misunderstanding that contributed to the decision to drop atomic bombs on 'Hiroshima and Nagasaki'. Overly literal translations often produce unintended and, at times, absurd meanings. For example, directly translating the English phrase 'It's raining cats and dogs' into Arabic would make no sense, as the intended meaning is 'heavy rainfall,' not animals falling from the sky. Similarly, the phrase 'Lost in translation', when translated word-for-word into other languages, fails to capture its intended nuance, which refers to the inability to convey meaning accurately across linguistic boundaries. In business, mistranslations have led to branding disasters. A well-known example is Pepsi's slogan, 'Come Alive with the Pepsi Generation,' which was mistranslated into Chinese as 'Pepsi brings your ancestors back from the dead.' The unintended phrase caused confusion and amusement among Chinese consumers, demonstrating the importance of linguistic precision in marketing. 3. The Impact of Translation Errors on Literature and Film: Translation errors can also significantly affect literature and cinema. A notable instance is the translation of Russian author Dostoevsky's works, where certain English translations altered complex philosophical ideas, making it difficult for readers to grasp his original intent. Additionally, film titles and dialogue have suffered from poor translations, altering the audience's perception of the movie. One famous case is 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,' whose title was translated differently across languages, sometimes making it seem like a lighthearted comedy rather than the deep, philosophical narrative intended by the filmmakers. Translation has the power to shape and even transform cultural understanding. Words like 'Freedom' and 'Respect' may seem straightforward, but their translations carry varying connotations across societies. For instance, 'Freedom' is typically translated as 'حرية' in Arabic, yet in different political contexts, it can imply independence, personal liberty, or even rebellion. Likewise, 'Respect' is rendered as 'احترام,' but in some cultures, it encompasses not only politeness but also deep-seated obedience and social hierarchy. In the realm of translation, there is a saying: 'Translation is a beautiful betrayal.' It reflects a paradox at the heart of the translator's craft, true fidelity to a text often requires sacrificing something in the process, whether it's cultural nuance, rhythm, or tone. Yet, when this so-called 'betrayal' is undertaken with intention and artistry, it can give rise to something wholly original. A striking example lies in the Arabic translations of 'Saadi Youssef', particularly his renditions of Lorca's poetry. Rather than cling to literal meaning, Youssef used the full force of his poetic sensibility to breathe new life into Lorca's voice, reshaping it in a way that resonated with Arabic readers while preserving its soul. Likewise, 'Guy Deutscher's' English interpretations of Al-Mutanabbi demonstrate that straying from the original meter can be a brave and respectful choice in service of deeper meaning and poetic power. Consider also 'The Little Prince', whose many translations differ subtly yet significantly. Each version reflects the translator's vision, sometimes enriching the text in ways the original never imagined—proof that a faithful betrayal can unlock new dimensions. Here, betrayal is not failure. It is creativity in motion, an act of interpretation that transforms the translator into a co-creator of art. Sometimes, to honor a voice, we must dare to reinvent it. In brief, translation errors do not always result in failures; sometimes, they lead to new meanings and unexpected cultural insights. However, the art of translation demands more than linguistic accuracy, it requires sensitivity to context and a keen awareness of how words resonate across cultures. Whether in diplomacy, literature, business, or everyday communication, translators must not only convey words but also capture the essence and intention behind them.
New Statesman
18-06-2025
- Entertainment
- New Statesman
If literature is dead, at least the funeral is well attended
Illustration by Charlotte Trounce Saturday morning, I am sitting on a temporary stage in a church in leafy, coastal, suburban Dublin – a kind of Hampstead-on-Sea – with the New Yorker literary critic Merve Emre (brag). We are trying to answer a question posed by the schedule: why does Gen-Z dig Dostoevsky? I wasn't aware of this Russo-rennaissance until asked to discuss it a few weeks ago. But what the hell, sure! I am precisely four months too old to count as Gen-Z but I know enough about Dostoevsky to say this: if he really is this generation's literary lodestar, is it any wonder they are all so morbid and reclusive? There are a few of them in the audience to help us get to the bottom of that. And the other question Russian literature invariably asks: could we all just lighten up a bit? We are at Dalkey Book Festival, an inky Glastonbury for the Irish cognoscenti, where the long arm of the 20th century New York salon meets the mannered sensibilities of the Hiberno-elite. Speakers are of the type you might expect – at one point an Icelandic poet asks me over a glass of wine in the green room if everyone here but her works for the Financial Times. 'No! I work for the New Statesman,' I reply, not getting the joke. 'And Michael Lewis is over there – you can spot Americans because they love white chinos.' If the social gravity of London is slowly shifting away from east to west, then a turbocharged version of the phenomenon happens in Dublin for one weekend in June: the city clears out and descends on the county's ersatz and Joycean coast with force. And not just for my excoriatingly clever ideas about Dostoevsky. One event asks: what books changed the world? Erm, the Bible? I suggest, with tremendous banality. Another panel asks: why does history matter? A good one to put to the Irish. As we sit at the midpoint of the 2020s, we are well inured to cerebral handwringing about the death of the literary scene. They say it's the phones, the iPads, the declining ambition of the West… Well, I'm not fretting any more, not least if the proliferation of the literary festival is anything to guide me. There is Hay: a socks-and-sandals Remainer mecca on the Welsh border (150,000 attendees in 2025); Cheltenham: Stephen Fry fans, line up here (100,000 of them did in 2024); Edinburgh: a two-week bonanza of clipped Scottish accents (somehow as popular as Cheltenham); and Dalkey: population, Bono. With Dalkey as a noble exception, it all trends to the uncool. But if we can reduce these things to equations of footfall and star power, then the death of the written word has been declared somewhat prematurely. John Updike thought of the novel as an 'individual moral adventure' – a spiritual anathema to the literary festival, which from the green room down, is a collective occasion (a suburban book club meets the megachurch). And a cynic might swap the 'moral adventure' of Updike's mid-century American imagination for the very 2025 sneer: 'status signalling'. To which I say, yes – and? Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe Maybe this is what literature is now: the author as entertainer; where Dua Lipa has a book club; and where cooing over Zadie Smith in a 500-capacity tent on the Welsh border is normal activity for the literary parvenu. Demur if you must: why should novelists have to explain themselves to a coterie of drunk fans in cardigans? One visit to the green room, where the novelists and déclassé journalists are having as good a time as the audience, provides its own answer. Saturday evening now, and I am sitting in a garden in Dalkey – is this Ireland's nicest town? – eating fish and talking to my Icelandic poet friend again. I am a long way from a dusty attic, parsing Ulysses in solitude, a more obviously honourable route through the literary realm. But I am optimistic: thanks in part to Dostoevsky's feted renaissance; thanks in main to the fact that this is fun. The Edge is also here – why not! And so, if literature is dead, at least the funeral is well attended. There is money behind the bar. And plenty of poached cod for the mourners. [See also: The rise of the west] Related
