Efendi ve Uşak, tüm zamanların en büyük yazarlarından biri sayılan Lev N. Tolstoy'un 1885'te yazdığı bir uzun öyküdür. Bu öyküde Vasili Andreyiç Brihunov adlı bir tüccarın soğuk bir kış günü uşağı Nikita ile birlikte kızakla yaptığı yolculuk anlatılır. Yolculuğun amacı yöredeki bir toprak sahibini ziyaret edip uzun zamandır pazarlığı yapılan bir koruyu satın almaktır. Vasili Andreyiç'in bu konuda acelesi vardır; aynı yeri satın almak isteyen başka tüccarlar da olduğu için koruyu onlara kaptırmak istem

Mühendis Garin'in Ölüm Işını, Aleksey Nikolayeviç Tolstoy'un 1920'lerde yazdığı ve 1937 yılında revize ettiği ünlü bilim kurgu-macera romanıdır. Roman, bir dedektif hikayesi tadında, 1920'li yıllarda Sovyetler Birliğinde başlıyor bizi peşinden sürüklemeye. Ardından ilginç karakterleri ve hızlı gelişen sahneleriyle bütün dünyayı gezdiriyor. Aleksey Nikolayeviç Tolstoy, yine yayınevimiz tarafından yayınlanan ünlü bilim kurgu romanı Aelita'nın ardından kaleme aldığı Mühendis Garin'in Ölüm Işını'nda; hem b

Mutlu aileler hep birbirinin aynıdır. Mutluluğu kaybeden ailelerin de kendilerine göre bir mutsuzluğu vardır. Oblonskiler de mutluluğunu kaybetmek üzereydi. Bayan Oblonski, kocasının, kendisini bir zamanlar evlerinde hizmet etmiş eski bir Fransız dadı ile aldattığını öğrenmiş, kocasına bundan sonra aynı çatı altında yaşayamayacaklarını söylemişti. Karı koca üç günden beri birbirleriyle ilişkilerini koparmış, bu durum ev halkına yansımıştı. Evde artık tam bir cehennem azabı yaşanıyor, kimsenin yüzü gülmüyord

Aleksey N. Tolstoy’un 1923 yılında yazılmış ve pek çok dünya diline çevrilmiş yapıtı Aelita, çağın fizik, astronomi ve tarih görüşlerini sentezleyen bir serüven. Bir Sovyet mucidi ile eski bir Kızılordu neferi, Mars’ta yeni bir uygarlık savaşının içinde buluyorlar kendilerini. Sosyal eşitliği kurma iddiasındaki bir ülkeden gelip ilahi bir ilgi ve korkuyla karşılanıyorlar.“Göklerin Oğullarını” ilahi tahtlarından indiren ilk etken, çökmekte olan eşitsiz Marslı uygarlığının güzel prensesi Aelita’nın aşkı oluyo

ACT I The Act takes place in autumn in a large village. The Scene represents Peter’s roomy hut. Peter is sit­ting on a wooden bench, mending a horse-collar. Anísya and Akoulína are spinning, and singing a part-song. PETER [looking out of the window] The horses have got loose again. If we don’t look out they’ll be killing the colt. Nikíta! Hey, Nikíta! Is the fellow deaf ? [Listens. To the women] Shut up, one can’t hear anything. NIKÍTA [from outside] What? PETER. Drive the horses in. NIKÍTA. We’ll drive ‘em

In Petersburg a at that time a complicated struggle was being carried on with greater heat than ever in the highest circles, between the parties of Rumyántsev, the French, Márya Fëdorovna, the Tsarévich, and others, drowned as usual by the buzzing of the court drones. But the calm, luxurious life of Petersburg, concerned only about phantoms and reflections of real life, went on in its old way and made it hard, except by a great effort, to realize the danger and the difficult position of the Russian people.

“In October, 1805, a R Russian army was occupying the villages and towns of the Archduchy of Austria, and yet other regiments freshly arriving from Russia were settling near the fortress of Braunau and burdening the inhabitants on whom they were quartered. Braunau was the headquarters of the commander in chief, Kutúzov.”

“Prince V Vasíli was not a man who deliberately thought out his plans. Still less did he think of inju­ring anyone for his own advantage. He was merely a man of the world who had got on and to whom getting on had become a habit. Schemes and devices for whi­ch he never rightly accounted to himself, but which formed the whole interest of his life, were constantly shaping themselves in his mind, arising from the cir­cumstances and persons he met. Of these plans he had not merely one or two in his head but doze

After hi his interview with his wife Pierre left for Petersburg. At the Torzhók post station, eith er there were no horses or the postmaster would not supply them. Pierre was obliged to wait. Without undressing, he lay down on the leather sofa in front of a round table, put his big feet in their overboots on the table, and began to reflect. “Will you have the portmanteaus brought in? And a bed got ready, and tea?” asked his valet.

The Bible leg legend tells us that the absence of la-bor idleness was a condition of the first man’s blessedness before the Fall. Fallen man has retained a love of idleness, but the curse weighs on the race not only because we have to seek our bread in the sweat of our brows, but because our moral nature is such that we cannot be both idle and at ease. An inner vo­ice tells us we are in the wrong if we are idle. If man could find a state in which he felt that though idle he was fulfilling his duty, he would

Man’s min mind cannot grasp the causes of events in their completeness, but the desire to find those cau­ses is implanted in man’s soul. And without conside­ring the multiplicity and complexity of the conditions any one of which taken separately may seem to be the cause, he snatches at the first approximation to a cau­se that seems to him intelligible and says: “This is the cause!” In historical events (where the actions of men are the subject of observation) the first and most pri­mitive approximation to p

From the close of the year 1811 intensified arming and concentrating of the forces of Western Europe began, and in 1812 these forces millions of men, reckoning those transporting and feeding the army moved from the west eastwards to the Russian frontier, toward which since 1811 Russian forces had been similarly drawn. On the twelfth of June, 1812, the forces of Western Europe crossed the Russian frontier and war began, that is, an event took place opposed to human reason and to human nature. Millions of men

The Battle o Battle of Borodinó, with the occupa­tion of Moscow that followed it and the flight of the French without further conflicts, is one of the most instructive phenomena in history. All historians agree that the external activity of states and nations in their conflicts with one another is expressed in wars, and that as a direct result of greater or less success in war the political stren­gth of states and nations increases or decreases.

Early in the y year 1806 Nicholas Rostóv returned home on leave. Denísov was going home to Vorónezh and Rostóv persuaded him to travel with him as far as Moscow and to stay with him there. Meeting a com­rade at the last post station but one before Moscow, Denísov had drunk three bottles of wine with him and, despite the jolting ruts across the snow-covered road, did not once wake up on the way to Moscow, but lay at the bottom of the sleigh beside Rostóv, who grew more and more impatient the nearer they got

After hi his interview with his wife Pierre left for Petersburg. At the Torzhók post station, either there were no horses or the postmaster would not supply them. Pierre was obliged to wait. Without undressing, he lay down on the leather sofa in front of a round table, put his big feet in their overboots on the table, and began to reflect. “Will you have the portmanteaus brought in? And a bed got ready, and tea?” asked his valet.

When seeing a dying animal a man feels a sen­se of horror: substance similar to his own is peris­hing before his eyes. But when it is a beloved and intimate human being that is dying, besides this horror at the extinction of life there is a severan­ce, a spiritual wound, which like a physical wound is sometimes fatal and sometimes heals, but always aches and shrinks at any external irritating touch.

After Prince A Prince Andrew’s engagement to Natásha, Pierre without any apparent cause suddenly felt it impossible to go on living as before. Firmly convin­ced as he was of the truths revealed to him by his benefactor, and happy as he had been in perfecting his inner man, to which he had devoted himself with such ardor all the zest of such a life vanished af­ter the engagement of Andrew and Natásha and the death of Joseph Alexéevich, the news of which rea­ched him almost at the same time. Only the skele­to

Absolute co continuity of motion is not compre­hensible to the human mind. Laws of motion of any kind become comprehensible to man only when he examines arbitrarily selected elements of that moti­on but at the same time, a large proportion of hu­man error comes from the arbitrary division of con­tinuous motion into discontinuous elements. There is a well-known, so-called sophism of the ancients consisting in this, that Achilles could never catch up with a tortoise he was following, in spite of the fact tha

The object o of a census is scientific. A census is a so­ciological investigation. And the object of the science of sociology is the happiness of the people. This science and its methods differ sharply from all other sciences.Its peculiarity lies in this, that sociological in­vestigations are not conducted by learned men in their cabinets, observatories and laboratories, but by two thousand people from the community. A second peculiarity is this, that the investigati­ons of other sciences are not conducted

I have said t that my friendship with Dimitri ope­ned up for me a new view of my life and of its aim and relations. The essence of that view lay in the con­viction that the destiny of man is to strive for mo­ral improvement, and that such improvement is at once easy, possible, and lasting. Hitherto, however, I had found pleasure only in the new ideas which I discovered to arise from that conviction, and in the forming of brilliant plans for a moral, active futu­re, while all the time my life had been contin