Translated by Aline Delano, Sergius Stepniak, William Westall, Thomas Seltzer, Marian Fell, Clarence Manning and The Russian Review.
Imprint
This ebook is the product of many hours of hard work by volunteers for Standard Ebooks, and builds on the hard work of other literature lovers made possible by the public domain.
The writing and artwork within are believed to be in the U.S. public domain, and Standard Ebooks releases this ebook edition under the terms in the CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication. For full license information, see the Uncopyright at the end of this ebook.
Standard Ebooks is a volunteer-driven project that produces ebook editions of public domain literature using modern typography, technology, and editorial standards, and distributes them free of cost. You can download this and other ebooks carefully produced for true book lovers at standardebooks.org.
Foreword
This edition of Vladimir Korolenko’s Short Fiction was produced from various translations. “Easter Night,” “A Saghálinian” and “Sketches of a Siberian Tourist” were translated by Aline Delano and originally published in 1887. “The Blind Musician” was also translated by Aline Delano and originally published in 1890. “In Two Moods” was translated by Sergius Stepniak and William Westall and originally published in 1891. “The Shades, a Fantasy” was translated by Thomas Seltzer and originally published in 1907. “Lights,” “The Last Ray” and “The Old Bell-Ringer” was translated for The Russian Review and originally published in 1916. “Makar’s Dream,” “The Murmuring Forest,” “In Bad Company” and “The Day of Atonement” were translated by Marian Fell and originally published in 1916. “Birds of Heaven,” “Isn’t It Terrible?,” “ ‘Necessity,’ ” “On the Volga” and “The Village of God” were translated by Clarence Manning and originally published in 1919.
Short Fiction
Easter Night
It was Holy Saturday in 188- …
Evening had long since enfolded the silent earth. The ground, warmed during the day by the rays of the sun, was now cooling beneath the invigorating influence of the night-frost. It seemed like one sighing, while its breath, forming a silvery mist, rose glistening in the rays of the starlit sky, like clouds of incense, to greet the approaching holiday.
All was still. In the cool night-breeze the small provincial town of N⸺ stood silent, waiting to hear the first stroke of the bell from the high cathedral-tower. But the town was not sleeping; a spirit of expectancy brooded beneath the veil of darkness, breathing through