Radio Prague International: The Czech Books You Must Read series

Kafka, Čapek, Kundera and Havel, these are all world renowned names, but what about all the others? How well are Czech authors actually known abroad? Can you find a bookshop in Berlin, Madrid, Moscow, Paris or New York that aside from classics such as The Good Soldier Švejk also sell the works of contemporary Czech authors? At Radio Prague International we have decided to map out the popularity and availability of Czech books abroad and find out which books have been translated into international languages such as English, German, Russian, Spanish and French. At the same time we will be providing our foreign audience with the opportunity to get acquainted with past and present Czech literary jewels.

The aim of the project is to give you a list of arguably the best and most popular Czech novels and poetry ever written, presenting not only the established classics, but also introducing the leading contemporary authors.

I've had a link to Radio Prague International's Culture & Literature posts in my sidebar for quite a while, but it has been some time since I had visited it. Many thanks to Michael Orthofer at his The Literary Saloon blog for noting that radio.cz had begun a series titled The Czech Books You Must Read, entries of which can be found here.

So far they have included The Good Soldier Švejk by Jaroslav Hašek, The Grandmother by Božena Němcová, and Marketa Lazarová by Vladislav Vančura. I can highly recommend the first and last of these three, and I look forward to exploring The Grandmother soon. The entry for Švejk includes an interview with Abagail Weil, who is working on a book about Hašek (now that I want to read), and it is noted that a new translation of Švejk by Gerald Tuner will be due soon from Karolinum Press. I had wanted to revisit the book, and that seems like a great opportunity to do so.

If you're interested in finding some great books to read in translation, keep up with the series!

Illustration of The Good Soldier Švejk by Josef Lada at Wikipedia

Interview with Jomar Hønsi about Jaroslav Hašek

Jomar Hønsi, who has been nice enough to comment on posts regarding Jaroslav Hašek, is highlighted (as is his website www.honsi.org) in this interview at Radio Prague.

From the interview:

And to explain a little bit to people who don’t know Hašek – he had the most extraordinary adventures during the First World War, travelling first in the Austro-Hungarian army, then in the Czechoslovak Legions, then in the Red Army, from Central Europe all the way to Siberia. There must have been a lot of research needed to work out where he went and when.

“Absolutely. The first stage of the trip I did the easy way. I followed Švejk, and, by 2010, I knew exactly where those places were. So I actually did it. That stage ended in Zhovtantsi in Ukraine, just north-east of Lviv, by the river Bug. So that was easy. It was more difficult afterwards when I decided to follow what presumably would have been Švejk’s route, which was Hašek’s own odyssey through the Ukraine, in captivity in Russia, back in the Czechoslovak Legion. He crossed over to the Bolsheviks under circumstances that are disputed even to this day. He spent two years in the Red Army and then returned to Prague where he gave up politics, it seems, and started to drink and write Švejk. So I followed Hašek from various sources in Russia and based on these sources I made an itinerary, which roughly, I think, corresponds to Hašek’s own trip – as far as Irkutsk and beyond Lake Baikal to a place called Gusinoye Ozero, which is almost in Mongolia. And then I started to retreat to Europe, also by train, to Narva in Estonia, and back through Germany – Berlin – to Prague.”

And when you were travelling to all these places, did you find that people in the towns you were visiting knew about the connection with Hašek and Švejk?

“Almost everyone knew who Švejk was and who Hašek was, almost without exception – from Austria, Slovakia, Hungary, Poland, Ukraine, Russia, but they were more bemused by the fact that I, as a Norwegian, was actually travelling in the footsteps of Jaroslav Hašek. A lot of people just couldn’t understand it. They shook their heads. They asked where I was from. From Norway. ‘Ah, very cold,’ they said, even in Siberia.”

Consider this a recommendation to read the interview and explore the website.

Behind the Lines by Jaroslav Hašek

Behind the Lines: Bugulma and Other Tales by Jaroslav Hašek
Translation by Mark Corner
Afterword by Robert B. Pynsent, Illustrations by Jiři Grus
Published by Charles University in Prague, Karolinum Press
ISBN 978-80-246-2013-8

Jaroslav Hašek is best known for the satirical novel The Good Soldier Švejk but he also wrote close to 1,500 short stories. Fourteen of these stories are gathered in this beautiful, slim volume with translations by Mark Corner. Radio Prague has an interview with the translator and several excerpts from the stories. Another interview with Mark Corner can be found at The Prague Post. I’ll also link to the book’s page at The University of Chicago Press, distributor for the book outside the Czech Republic and the Slovak Republic.

Robert B. Pynset’s Afterword presents the similarities between Hašek’s life and these stories that take place in Bugulma, a town in Russia (Tartarstan) where the author had been a Red Army officer. The stories chosen for the collection (the article above calls it a “cross section”) present a semi-coherent story of some adventures by the character Gašek, starting with his elevation to Commanding Officer of the Town of Bugulma in early October 1918. What follows is something very different from Švejk—the reader finds a competent officer maneuvering through a black comedy, punctuated with satire but in a much more professional manner. As Pynset’s Afterword points out, Gašek is a far cry from Švejk but isn’t Hašek, either. Even though many of the events are based on actual events, “Hašek’s intention is satire, not verisimilitude.” “These stories, with some exceptions, manifest Hašek’s old fascination with, indeed often affection for, outsider groups, here Tartars, Buryats (it is said that Hašek founded Buryat journalism), Circassians and other non-Russians.”

Even with his fascination, Hašek still adds plenty of satire in with his stories of these outsiders. In the opening story, the pagan priest of a nearby town was brought before Gašek with a cage containing three white squirrels, said to be the pagans’ gods. After baptizing the priest, Gašek hands the cage over to his bodyguards: “My fine fellows then proceeded to skin the gods of the Cheremisses. I can assure one and all that you can make a fine soup out of a Cheremiss deity.”

One similarity between Švejk and Gašek is their belief in following directives or the rules, although their outcomes from doing so diverge. Švejk’s literalness undermined the rules and pointed out the absurdities of bureaucratic systems. Gašek believes in the necessity of the bureaucracy, even if he bends the rules or recognizes the damage from competing agencies in the bureaucracy. Gašek, as Commanding Officer of Bugulma, has to deal with Comrade Yerokhimov, commander of the Tver Revolutionary Regiment stationed near and in Bugulma. The first order of business for either leader of the city is publishing official pronouncements and Yerokhimov’s first order sets the tone for his relationship with Gašek:

To all citizens of Bugulma! This very day, following the fall of Bugulma, I have taken over as your Commanding Officer. I am hereby dismissing your former Commanding Officer [Gašek] from his post on grounds of incompetence and cowardice and am appointing him my second-in-command.

Yerokhimov, Commanding Officer of Bugulma

For additional satire, Gašek’s workmanlike behavior creates misunderstandings that he doesn’t comprehend. In order to get barracks ready for an arriving cavalry contingent, Gašek sends an order to the abbess of the nearby convent to send “fifty virgins” at once “to be placed at the disposal of the Petersburg Cavalry Regiment.” The nuns, of course, assume the worst since Gašek doesn’t specify what they will be doing.

Even with the belief in the necessity of administration and wholehearted support of the revolutionary cause, Hašek can be less than complimentary of party officials. A three-member Committee of the Revolutionary Council of the Eastern Front arrives to evaluate charges Yerokhimov has telegraphed about Gašek. The commanding officer sizes up the members of the committee, noting that what drove some officials wasn’t productive:

The third member of the revolutionary tribunal was the one with the most radical opinions of all. He had worked as a clerk for a Moscow lawyer who once provided sanctuary for the White General Kalenin when he was in hiding. This lawyer was, in Agapov’s words, the worst villain in the world, because he paid him no more than fifteen roubles per month. This was only a third of what he gave to the waiter in the Hermitage as a tip when the man brought him a slice of salmon, asking in return merely that the man would let him spit in his face.

His whole appearance highlighted the fact that all the events preceding the fall of Tsarism had turned him into something cruel and implacable, a hard and terrible human being. He had settled accounts long beforehand with those who paid him those miserable fifteen roubles. He was a man doing battle with phantoms of the past, bathing his surroundings wherever he went in the dull glow of suspicion and making out the forms of traitors unknown.

As Mark Conner points out in his interview in The Prague Post, “One important thing was to bring to life Hašek as a short-story writer, and even the short story as the medium at which Hašek excelled.” After reading this sample, I’m inclined to agree. I also want to mention my enjoyment of the two books I’ve read so far from the Karolinum Press, Charles University (the other book was Summer of Caprice by Vladislav Vančura, also translated by Mark Corner). After Švejk, I have trouble imagining Hašek without accompanying illustrations and the ones provided in this volume by Jiři Grus are delightful.

Also a word of thanks to Levi Stahl at I’ve Been Reading Lately for soothing my impatience on the availability of this book (the release date kept getting pushed).

Cheremiss deities, one of Jiři Grus' illustrations
From The Prague Post article.

Recent Radio Prague articles / broadcasts

At Radio Prague recently...

Jaroslav Hašek: not just The Good Soldier Švejk. I have been waiting for Behind the Lines for some time (and have recently been told "soon"). The interview with translator Mark Corner includes an excerpt from one of the stories.

Willa Cather and the Bohemians of the prairies looks at the importance of Czech settlers in Cather's novels.

While we're way off the wagon...

I have been doing rather well on limiting my purchase of books, but another pre-order just went in...

From The University of Chicago Press (distributed for Karolinum Press, Charles University):

Behind the Lines: Bugulma and Other Tales by Jaroslav Hašek

Jaroslav Hašek is a Czech writer most famous for his wickedly funny, widely read yet incomplete novel The Good Soldier Schweik, a series of absurdist vignettes about a recalcitrant WWI soldier. Hašek—in spite of a life of buffoonery and debauchery—was remarkably prolific. He wrote hundreds of short stories that all display both his extraordinary gift for satire and his profound distrust of authority. Here, in a new English translation, is a series of short stories based on Hašek’s experiences as a Red Commissar in the Russian Civil War and his return to Czechoslovakia.

First published in the Prague Tribune, these nine stories are considered to be some of his best, and they provide delightful entertainment as well as important background and insight into The Good Soldier Schweik. This collection by a writer some call the Bolshevik Mark Twain, is much more than a tool for understanding Hašek’s better known novel; it is a significant work in its own right. Behind the Lines focuses on the Russian town of Bugulma, and takes aim, with mordant wit, at the absurdities of a revolution. A hidden gem remarkable for its modern, ribald sense of humor, Behind the Lines is an enjoyable, fast-paced anthology of great literary and historical value.

O Švejk, where art thou?

There have been a couple of comments on The Good Soldier Švejk, particularly in regard to Part One: Behind the Lines. I think a large part of Hašek’s accomplishment revolves around the ambiguity on how much of a simpleton is Švejk. Is he playing the part or is he really a fool? Or is he some combination of both?

I wanted to highlight the additional responses since it shows how differently the book can be read, which I think is one of its strengths. Once again I'll highly recommend the book and I look forward to hearing other interpretations--Švejk continues to fluster people almost a century after his 'birth'!

The Good Soldier Švejk summary

The statue of Švejk in Humenné
Picture source

Švejk has been a faithful companion the past couple of months and I’m a little sad to shelve him (although maybe not for long since a family member seems interested in reading it). Despite its unevenness, I really enjoyed the book. To simply say this is an anti-war novel misses the target of Hašek’s satire which is bureaucracy of any form whether it is military, governmental, religious or judicial in nature. A story addressing the mind-numbing and soul-destroying control exerted by others who allegedly know what’s best for us resonates just as much today as it did for Hašek almost a century ago. Absurdity has no limits, temporal or geographic, and if you can’t be like Švejk and remain unfazed as it washes over you at least you can laugh about it with this book.

Online resources for Jaroslav Hašek and The Good Soldier Švejk

The Good Soldier Švejk discussions

Book One: “Behind the Lines”

Book Two: “At the Front”

Books Three and Four: “The Glorious Licking” and “The Glorious Licking Continued”


Movies

The Good Soldier Schweik (1956 movie)

The Good Soldier Schweik 2 – Beg to Report, Sir (1957/8 movie)

The Good Soldier Švejk discussion: Good Soldier Schweik 2—Beg to Report, Sir (1957/8 movie)

Movie poster for Beg to Report, Sir
Picture source

I am still working out where I want this blog to go, but one thing I wanted to do from the beginning was view/consume/compare a book to versions of it in other media, particularly film. I think I’ve made it clear I don’t have a problem with variations from the text as long as the spirit of the original is maintained and it adds something that faithful replication would not accomplish. I say all this as a lead-in to this brief review because I enjoyed this film much more than the first film even though it deviates from the text, substantially at times. This Czech film (1957 or 1958 depending on the site you visit) covers the last 2 ½ books of Jaroslav Hašek’s The Good Soldier Švejk. I think part of my additional warming to this ‘episode’ is because Rudolf Hrusinsky has really grown on me as Švejk (I’ll try and maintain consistency with the book).

Švejk tells more anecdotes in this movie, the reduction of which was one of the shortfalls in the first movie. Švejk is Švejk because (in some part) of these anecdotes. As I mentioned in the first movie’s post, these anecdotes provide a cumulative effect in portraying the breadth of Švejk’s mind, both in the volume of his memory and how his mind connects disparate events while also demonstrating the (apparent) shallowness of it. Sometimes the anecdotes have deeper meaning, making fun of their targets, while other times they simply demonstrate the wonder that is Švejk.

The storyline for these 2 ½ books travels outside of Prague which allows much more freedom for the filmmakers to choose what scenes to highlight. We have Švejk’s Anabasis, his arrest as a Russian (twice), his reunion with his regiment, and the approach toward the front. To offset some of this freedom from the text, the filmmakers must have felt constrained by Josef Lada’s illustrations. Characters in the movie look exactly like those drawings, which provide continuity between the book and the movie. Baloun and Lieutenant Dub, especially, are faithful reproductions from the book's sketches and I can’t imagine them as looking any different now.

The major drawback to this film is that it is covering 2 ½ books of Hašek’s work. The first film only covered one book and still had to excise parts. I know I’m being greedy by saying that there was enough material for another film. But when you see parts not included like Lukáš’ love letter (that goes horribly awry by Švejk’s inept delivery) or the cipher fiasco, it’s easy to wish this had been extended through an additional film. To those unfamiliar with the book, this drawback is probably irrelevant.

Does the film capture the overall spirit of the book? I think the answer is an unequivocal yes. The hardest part to decide may be how do you end the movie when the book ends mid-scene? Having the outhouse Lieutenant Dub occupies shelled (he comes out unscathed), felt like a good ending. The final scene of Švejk lighting his pipe while shells burst around him captures the spirit of the book in one brief scene. The characters are faithful to the source and consistently well played.

The harder question to answer for me is does the movie stand by itself? In this case, the concern is twofold—do you need to know the book and/or do you need to see the first film to fully enjoy the film? As with the first film, readers of the book will enjoy this movie more than those not familiar with it. Fortunately the subtitles seemed to be easier to read in this movie than the first. While viewing the previous film isn’t necessary to enjoy this one, I think seeing it first would be helpful to fully understand the world of Švejk.

I am still amazed at the number of film versions made about Švejk, but I’m really glad these two were made and I was able to watch them.

Cover of U.S. DVD version

The Good Soldier Švejk discussion: Books Three and Four—“The Glorious Licking” and “The Glorious Licking Continued”

The major-general inspecting the latrines
Illustration by Josef Lada
Picture source

“Stupid people have to exist too, because if everyone were wise then there would be so much good sense in the world that every other person would be driven crazy by it.”

Most resources I’ve read mention that Hašek intended six volumes for The Good Soldier Švejk. Sites like Wikipedia say he completed only four books, but that is misleading: in the Penguin Classics version I have, the first three books average over 200 pages each while the fourth book ends after 80 pages. These last two books follow Švejk and his regiment as they head toward the front. Once again, Švejk get separated from his outfit, this time being mistaken for a Russian soldier (wearing a Russian uniform helped give that impression).

Near the start of Book Three, a trainload of enthusiastic soldiers, singing lustily, passes by Švejk’s company. One soldier loses his balance and is impaled on the track points-lever.

“He’s had his war,” said the good soldier Švejk, who was also among the curious sightseers, “and he has the advantage that having a bit of iron in his belly, everybody at least knows where he’s buried. It’s just on the railway line and you don’t have to hunt for his grave all over the battlefields.”

The tone is set for this section. Švejk and his unit never make it to the front but they pass through areas where there has been fierce fighting, examples of the destruction of life and property all around them. While there is no direct fighting here, second-hand stories are relayed in addition to soldiers’ prior experiences in battle.

One of the underlying currents in this section revolves around comparisons with how things used to be, current experiences always falling short of previous examples. There are several references by different characters to Joseph Radetzky, as if hoping that past success and glory will translate to the present. The disconnect with the past occurs immediately when the soldiers try to explain how an entire regiment can surrender willingly to the Russians. I believe I inadvertently included Chodounský’s stories of “August madness”, his early experiences during the Great War, in the discussion on Book Two. His tales of local citizens greeting those going to war as heroes, plying the soldiers with food and drink (and to which the soldiers repaid with contempt) occur in Book Three. The tepid or hostile reception Švejk’s company receives markedly contrasts with previous stories. The timeframe between “now and then” does not have to be very long—as the company approaches the front, rations decrease noticeably and soldiers long for minimal comforts available at previous posts.

Beauracracy continues to the main target of Hašek. As the troops approach the front, the emphasis focuses mainly on the military red-tape and incompetence. As described previously, gaming the system is an accepted and expected practice. “War demanded valour even in pilfering.” Chodounský’s stories paint a picture of an incompetent military staff. The meanness of officers comes through as well, such as an orderly sent to the front (a sure death sentence at the time) on a whim since he failed to procure his colonel a portion of rolled roast sirloin of veal at a farewell party.

One of my favorite storylines concerns the codes used for transmitting messages. Hašek starts the segment describing the colonel who issued Ludwig Ganghofer’s The Sins of the Fathers to all the officers, making him appear a little ‘barmy’ for instructing subordinates to “never forget page 161!” Then things look a little better for the colonel when the reader realizes that the page represents the key to deciphering coded messages. But Hašek undermines that realization with comic and devastating revelations. It turns out that this particular cipher system had been spelled out in a military handbook. Cadet Biegler points how some bureaucrat saved time by exactly copying the example in the handbook in order to complete his job. The comedy of this section revolves around the realization that Švejk, with the best of intentions, only distributed Part I of The Sins of the Fathers to the officers while the code relies on page 161 of Part II. Even with the appropriate volume, the cipher system was complex and unwieldy, forcing officers to send uncoded messages.

This is where Hašek’s devastating comments on the war shine through brilliantly. Hašek can be direct in a manner that leaves me feeling cold (“A military train was again carrying off to Galicia another herd of men driven to the slaughter-house” and “While here they were smashing the king with the ace, far away at the front kings were smashing each other with their serfs”). But more subtle examples, such as the cipher fiasco, gets his point across much more effectively. Hašek’s view that bureaucracy kills, whether literally in the sense of battle or figuratively when it comes to the soul, would resonate with those familiar with The Great War. There were many instances where sending messages “in the clear” led to defeats and additional dead, the Battle of Tannenberg being one of the most famous examples. That the reader can still laugh at an event that could possibly have deadly consequences highlights Hašek at his best.

Hašek continues his black comedy in many forms, such as Cadet Biegler filling his pants after drinking and eating too much. Even though the doctor says nothing is wrong, Beigler is ordered to the hospital for dysentery and contracts cholera. The incompetency surrounding his journey maintains humor despite the possible grim outcome. Lunacy is the order of the day, at times quite literally. A brigadier goes crazy and continues to telegraph orders to his commands. Even though everyone knows he is crazy, his conflicting and irrational commands continue to be sent since divisional headquarters has not ordered the telegraph stations to quit delivering his telegrams. There is the example of a doddering major-general who seems to be living in another world, forgoing logic and reality in order to fixate on regulating men’s bowel movements. He recommends Švejk for a promotion and a medal for saluting while in the latrines. There are numerous examples of the dehumanization caused by the war, few as powerful as General Fink von Finkenstein. Basically a hanging judge, his letters home to his wife make it difficult to discern if he is the result of dehumanization or if he’s just crazy.

Since Hašek wrote Švejk over several years, questions of consistency arise at times. In these two books, Švejk is much more cynical at times (“I love it when people drivel utter bunkum” in response to a chaplain’s drumhead mass). He can also be venomously mean at times, such as inventing orders to torture his replacement Baloun or guessing Lieutenant Dub’s sexual preference. The passivity that marked Švejk in Book One is replaced by a more resolute character. He is very forceful in his retrieval of Lieutenant Dub from the whorehouse. Švejk acts with force and threats, as part of an advance guard, in the town of Liskowiec and with its mayor. The argument could be made that Švejk becomes more forceful in his role as a soldier, but I’m not sure that completely covers the difference.

One of the major changes in the book is the development of a friendship (of sorts) between Lieutenant Lukáš and Švejk. Lukáš’ reactions to Švejk’s antics lean toward hopelessness and desperation instead of anger. There are even instances where the lieutenant smiles at Švejk ‘s ramblings, enjoying their conversations and requesting to hear anecdotes. The reaction of both Lukáš and Švejk when the lieutenant finds out Švejk had been buying double portions for him shows a tenderness that each feels for the other despite them trying to downplay it. Unfortunately some of the relationship stays the same out of necessity, as Lukáš demonstrates: “If you only knew, Švejk, what you’ve done… But you will never learn that… .” Švejk never learns or understands because no one ever tells him—they assume the absurdity of what he has done is obvious. Instead Švejk feels “respect for himself. It did not happen every day that he committed something so frightful that he must never be allowed to learn what it was.”

There are additional characters that receive more development in this section. Below are a few that I’ve picked to highlight:

Baloun: a giant of a man that lives only to fill his stomach, which is unfortunate because of the incompetence of the army in supplying soldiers. Many of the characters are driven by food, drink and sex (and not always in that order). Baloun’s focus only on food makes him a stock comic character.

Lieutenant Dub: a schoolmaster before the war, he has a personal vendetta against Švejk. His standard line for everyone is “You don’t know me! You know me from my good side, but wait till you get to know me from my bad side! I’ll make you cry!” However, he is only capable of bluster, hiding behind his rank. Švejk has so much contempt for Dub that, after running through possible offensive classifications, he describes the lieutenant as a “semi-fart”. While Dub is Švejk’s nemesis, at times you get the feeling there is an uneven match of wits (in Švejk’s favor, believe it or not).

Marek: a one-year volunteer always getting in trouble. He warmly accepts his assignment as battalion historian. Taking his duties seriously, he records his battalion’s victorious glories before they happen, detailing all the conquests and heroic deaths he foresees will occur. As pointed out earlier, past successes are assumed to translate into future triumphs.

While Book Four shows promise in remaining funny and biting (for example Chaplain Martinec’s spiritual consolation given to Švejk before the latter’s planned hanging), the quality seems more uneven than previous books. Hašek starts to sound like Švejk, inserting anecdotes of his own when trying to make a point. He even inserts hypothetical monologues he imagines Švejk would utter, something well out of the author's character to this point. Still, an uneven finish would be preferable to having the story cut short with Hašek’s death at age 39. I'll wrap up the book after reviewing the second Schweik movie.

Švejk retrieves Lieutenant Dub from the whorehouse
Illustration by Josef Lada
Picture source

The Good Soldier Švejk discussion: Book Two “At the Front"

Švejk before the divisional court
Illustration by Josef Lada
Picture source

Despite this section’s title, Švejk does not make it to the front, although if the real battle is with bureaucracy then he is constantly "at the front." He does travel, with and without his regiment, from Prague to a staging and training area just east of Vienna. By accident, Švejk’s train to the staging area stops due to the emergency brake being pulled. While being questioned about his involvement in this incident, Švejk’s train continues without him. After missing the next train, he is told to walk to the camp. His “Anabasis” follows him through the countryside, meeting good-hearted people that wish to help him. A sergeant assumes Švejk’s simplistic answers mask a cunning Russian spy, detaining the simpleton for interrogation. After being cleared of charges and spending three days in gaol, he is reunited with Lieutenant Lukáš at the staging area/camp near Királyhida. Švejk botches the delivery of a love letter from Lukáš, leading first to his arrest and then to his appointment as company orderly. The section ends as the company prepares to travel to the front, although which one (Russian or Serbian) is uncertain. Along the way we meet new characters like the army volunteer, whose stint as editor of The Animal World magazine saw him invent Dr. Seuss-like animals for his publication. The following are a few general themes that caught my eye in this section:


Increased focus on the war
Several times Hašek has characters wish for death, usually in a jest or at least in a light-hearted manner. When Švejk tells Lieutenant Lukáš that he is awfully happy to be sent to the front because it will “be really marvelous when we both fall dead together for His Imperial Majesty and the Royal Family”, the reader laughs at Švejk’s simplemindedness. A little later the lieutenant muses that getting killed at the front will cause him to “be quit of this miserable world, in which a hideous brute like Švejk was rampaging about.” There are several more examples like this, the musing or wish being whimsical to some extent. After a while the reader has to question how unbearable things have become when a preference for death is repeatedly considered, however lighthearted the intent.

During Švejk’s Anabasis, he was usually viewed as a deserter despite his protestations to the contrary. He was helped despite (or rather because of) his purported deserter status. Those trying to help Švejk give many reasons in helping a deserter, but most fall under some form of compassion. The contrast with the earlier enthusiasm for the war (sometimes dubbed in history books as “August madness”) is explicitly detailed by the narrator and one of the soldiers. Both compare the earliest receptions by soldiers with the meager greeting (or complete indifference) by locals expressed at this point months into the war.

There are a few accounts, mostly second-hand, of the fighting at the front, although the first report does not occur until page 303 in my version of the book (almost halfway through the novel). Following the first description of the front is another that revolves around just how much defecation happens in battle and at death…an extremely graphic and memorable passage. The volume of army desertions are high while various officers fail to address basic problems underlying the campaign, focusing on military trappings or discipline instead.

Observations from the narrator happen more frequently in this section than in Book One. Hašek can be subtle in his jests and descriptions while at other times he ascends a soapbox. While there is nothing subtle about the following, Hašek is at his most effective in moments like this description:

Before the arrival of the passenger train the third-class restaurant filled up with soldiers and civilians. They were predominantly soldiers of various regiments and formations and the most diverse nationalities whom the whirlwinds of war had swept into the Tábor hospitals. They were now going back to the front to get new wounds, mutilations and pains and to earn the reward of a simple wooden cross over their graves. Years after on the mournful plains of East Galicia a faded Austrian soldier’s cap with a rusty Imperial badge would flutter over it in wind and rain. From time to time a miserable old carrion crow would perch on it, recalling fat feasts of bygone days when there used to be spread for him an unending table of human corpses and horse carcasses, when just under the cap on which he perched there lay the daintiest morsels of all—human eyes.

Just because someone claims to be anti-war in the novel doesn’t mean they exhibit higher morals. Some of Švejk’s fellow prisoners have committed atrocious crimes, trying to paint their transgression as noble since it was done for money instead of nationalism.


Bureaucracy and the incompetence of those implementing it
For the most part the bureaucrats/soldiers/etc. continue to try and ‘game’ the system to benefit themselves. The amount of paperwork sent their way can cause someone at any level to feel like they are being driven crazy. The lower rungs in the hierarchy respond by putting everything “into the report so that the people at the top are so foxed by it that their eyes boggle.” Several times bureaucracy is described as a storm, with this new force of nature disrupting and devastating everything in its path. Terror is often viewed as an essential application to the soldiers, the only effective means of achieving discipline. Those in charge, whether religious, civic or military, continue to be skewered. Chaplain Lacina’s portrayal of a gluttonous, drunken lout continues satirizing all things religious that began with Chaplain Katz.

Those who know the rules are usually those that fail to follow them. The volunteer who accompanies Švejk in the prison car can quote decrees, articles, and rules that apply to others while acting outside the rules that relate to him. Quartermaster Sergeant-Major Vaněk provides an example of an experienced soldier who knows how to deal with the bureaucracy—he doesn’t believe anything he is told. He knows the reality and practicality of how things really work and ignores the meaningless instructions that rain down on him from above. Švejk provides another example of how to deal with the chaos all around—he leaves the phone off the hook and sleeps, a fitting portrait of how everything swirls around him while remaining blisfully unaware.

The portrait of the divisional court illustrates Hašek’s attitude toward civil and religious authority in a few emblematic descriptions (see the Lada illustration at the top of this post):

A volume of the legal code lay before him [the judge], and a half-consumed glass of tea stood on top of it. On the table on the right stood a crucifix made out of imitation ivory with a dusty Christ, who looked despairingly at the pedestal of his cross, on which there were ashes and cigarette stubs.

To the renewed regret of the crucified Jesus Judge Advocate Ruller was at this very moment flicking the ash from another cigarette on to the pedestal of the crucifix. With his other hand he was raising the glass of tea, which had got stuck to the legal code.

What good are these institutions when the law is more useful as a coaster and religion is better used as an ash tray? In the next sentences we find the judge is more interested in pornography than in tending to his cases.

When Lieutenant Lukáš recounts the pathetic performance of his company during night operations/practice, the comedy of the bureaucracy is tempered because the reader is reminded of the stakes. The incompetent individuals and the unmanageable bureaucracy will get people killed. I don’t believe Hašek wished that soldiers were more competent or that they could be an effective and efficient killing force. Instead of offering solutions, Hašek points out that effectiveness and efficiency are impossible in a society structured this way. All it takes is a tomcat rearranging the flags and pins on a battlefield map to throw the entire army into confusion.


Stratification and lack of unity
Hašek shows the various ethnicities within the Austro-Hungarian Empire at each other’s throat. How are they to fight a common enemy when they are busy fighting among their own camps? Švejk’s friend Vodička seems to live for fighting other ethnic groups, regardless that they are on the same side. Despite newspaper accounts of the “unanimity reigning in the hearts of our peoples”, the reader sees little proof of that solidarity. Differences aren’t reserved for ethnic groups—witness Colonel Schröder’s comments and treatment of reserve officers and regulars or the “blood feud” existing between artillery men and the regimental patrols. Soldiers provide detailed examples of ‘fragging’ officers at the front.

The racial aspect, though, baffles me. What was Hašek doing with Švejk’s cross-breeding story at the start of Chapter Three? Just as bad is the quote from the volunteer (a fellow prisoner), “There’s a theory that raping girls of another nationality is the best recipe against degeneration.” My only guess lies with Hašek pointing out the lack of cohesion between the ethnic groups of the empire in addition to exhibiting the coarse composition of mankind.

The military camp at the staging area provides differences between officers and rank-and-file soldiers that you would expect, like soldiers shivering in their huts while officers swelter from overheating. There are unexpected (to me) distinctions as well, such as in the differing levels of ‘quality’ provided in transportable brothels. Švejk seemingly supports the stratification when referring to another batman as “it” or an orderly as a “thing”, recognizing that assistants to officers are objects and not regarded as human.


Attitudes and actions turn meaner
Some of the examples above hint toward this change of atmosphere, especially in the stratification topic. Whether driving superiors crazy or spoiling for a fight with those supposedly on your side, conflict is taken up a notch. Other actions are more subtle. Up to this point Švejk has (relatively) faithfully followed superior’s orders, but now there are some lapses that have enormous ramifications. Instead of delivering Lieutenant Lukáš’ love letter as directed, Švejk runs into Vodička and the soldiers get reacquainted. This delays the delivery of the letter until lunch when the husband of the targeted lady is at home. This is not a mistake the Švejk of Book One would have made.

Švejk shows one of his inconsistencies in telling his friend Vodička that he should always “say in court what isn’t true” although Švejk almost always tells the truth. It could be a lack of self-awareness, or more likely just a case of his inability to behave without guile even though he knows that is what others do. I don’t think he comprehends that telling the truth throws his superiors for a loop.

Vodička reacts with rage when he is acquitted of fighting with Hungarians, not because it means he will be sent to the front but because it diminishes his exploits. He exists to fight and it doesn’t matter to him who’s on the receiving end. Being a soldier does not channel Vodička's anger. He finds new targets to confront while travelling across his own country. His constant anger reflects the increased tone of confrontation demonstrated by many of the characters.

Instead of ending this post on anger, I'll relay the parting conversation between Vodička and Švejk. I'm not sure why I find it so funny, but I do...

Švejk and Vodička say goodbye
Illustration by Josef Lada
Picture source

When Švejk said goodbye to Vodička and each of them was taken off to his unit he said: "When the war's over come and see me. You'll find me every evening from six o'clock onwards in the The Chalice at Na Bojišti." ...

"Very well, then, at six o'clock in the evening when the war's over!" shouted Vodička from below.

"Better if you come at half-past six, in case I should be held up somewhere," answered Švejk.

And then Vodička's voice could be heard again this time from a great distance: "Can't you come at six?"

"Very well then, I'll come at six," Vodička heard his retreating friend reply.

The Good Soldier Švejk discussion: The Good Soldier Schweik (1956 movie)

Movie poster for The Good Soldier Schweik
Picture source

Since I just finished Book 2 and haven’t had a chance to write any thoughts about it, I’ll post a quick review of the 1956 Czech movie which is based on Book 1, “Behind the Lines”. The film faithfully follows Schweik’s misadventures in Hašek’s book, at least for the most part. Rudolf Hrusinsky as Schweik (the inconsistency in translating the name is unfortunate, but easy to adjust for) seemed to fit the role better as it progressed. Scenes sometimes looked like Josef Lada’s illustrations since several of the movie characters seemed cartoon-like, such as the plainclothes officer Bretschneider. The performance by the actor portraying Chaplain Otto Katz (Milos Kopecký) was far and away my favorite part of the movie.

Does the book translate well to film? The filmmakers definitely face a daunting task and, for the most part, they do a good job. Although at times something seems to get lost in the translation between media. Fortunately some scenes benefit from being seen instead of read. The drunken mannerisms of Chaplain Katz in the pulpit, for example, add quite a bit to his “sermon”. Since the setting is Prague, the biggest benefit of film is that we see many lovely shots of the city. Unfortunately some areas of the book are not included, such as Schweik’s earlier occupation as dog seller. Where the movie suffers worst in comparison with the book lies with the book’s ultimate targets, bureaucracy and what it does to people. The movie focuses mostly on Schweik’s bumbling adventures, which provide a large component of the book, yet Hašek uses these to develop his point. When this aspect comes through in the movie, such as the interview by the psychiatrists or the methods within the garrison prison (where the war’s success depends on the enemas given), the power of the book is mirrored.

Does the film stand by itself? (Can it be appreciated without reading the book?) For the most part it does / can. Viewers familiar with the book will probably enjoy the movie more, most importantly because the subtitles can fly by too fast to read at times. Some of the scenes and related dialogue are shortened for time constraints, such as the theft of Colonel Kraus’ dog. In addition, the number of Schweik’s anecdotes is reduced considerably. In the book, these anecdotes provide a cumulative effect in overwhelming the reader with the breadth of Schweik’s mind, both in the volume of his memory and how his mind connects disparate events. The depth of his mind, however, is rarely in question.

Links to film versions of Hašek’s book are listed at Švejk Central. I found the following quotes at the bottom of the page interesting:

"Parts such as Kaspar Hauser or the title character in Jaroslav Hašek’s The Good Soldier Švejk were projects [Peter] Lorre always spoke about -- [Charlie] Chaplin even offered to direct Švejk - but failed to ever realize." There are 17 pages with references to Švejk in Stephen Youngkin's book about Peter Lorre. The first nine are references to mentions of Švejk in the text of the book; the last eight are references to other sources mentioning Švejk. You might find the excerpts posted on amazon.com quite interesting.

In trying to picture what English-speaking actor could have played Švejk, Peter Lorre wasn't one of the first that came to mind but the more I think about it the more I like it. I would love to see what the Chaplain/Lorre collaboration could have produced. Yes, it’s a useless game but still fun to play. The only living English-speaking actor that comes to mind for the title role is Bob Hoskins (who would have had to play the part at least 20 years ago), but I’m always willing to entertain other suggestions. Since this release is easily available through rental at major sites (like Netflix), I thought it worth the time and effort to review and recommend it.

The Good Soldier Švejk discussion: Book One “Behind the Lines”

Švejk goes to the war
Illustration by Josef Lada
Picture source

Those who boggle at strong language are cowards, because it is real life which is shocking them, and weaklings like that are the very people who cause most harm to culture and character. They would like to see the nation grow up into a group of over-sensitive little people—masturbators of false culture of the type of St Aloysius, of whom it iw said in the book of the monk Eustachius that when he heard a man breaking wind with deafening noise he immediate burst into tears and could only be consoled by prayers.

People like that proclaim their indignation in public but take unusual pleasure in going to public lavatories to read obscene inscriptions on the walls.

In using a few strong expressions in my book I have done nothing more than affirm en passant how people actually talk.

We cannot expect the inn-keeper palivec to speak with the same refinement as Mrs Laudová, Doctor Gurth, Mrs olga Fastrová [ed. note—people of Hašek’s time who wrote on morals and behavior] and a whole series of others who would like to turn the whole Czechoslovak Republic into a big salon with parquet flooring, where people go about in tail-coats, white ties and gloves, speak in choice phrases and cultivate the refined behaviour of the drawing-room. But beneath this camouflage these drawing-room lions indulge in the worst vices and excesses.

…

I do not know whether I shall succeed in achieving my purpose with this book. The fact that I have already heard one man swear at another and say ‘You’re about as big an idiot as Švejk’ does not prove that I have. But if the word ‘Švejk’ becomes a new choice specimen in the already florid garland of abuse I must be content with this enrichment of the Czech language.

— From the Epilogue to Part One, “Behind the Lines”

As evidenced by the quote Hašek thinks everyone is worth hearing, even (or maybe especially) a simpleton like Švejk. The “wise fool” device has been used many times, yet Hašek throws in some twists which maintain freshness in this work. I will link Ian Johnston’s lecture on The Good Soldier Švejk again since it covers the book so well. All I can do is add a few points (and I’m sure some will be repetitive) on my reaction to the work.

Book One introduces us to Švejk (pronounced Shvayk) and the world he inhabits. Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria has just been assassinated and World War I unfolds around Švejk, “who had left military service years before, after having been finally certified by an army medical board as an imbecile…“. In this section, Švejk is called up again into the army, imprisoned and examined, becomes personal assistant to an army chaplain, is lost in a game of cards to a lieutenant, and causes the lieutenant to be sent to the front.

We rarely get a glimpse inside Švejk’s mind during Hašek’s narration—at times Švejk can be an indefinite entity to the reader. In his asides, Hašek can be screechy at times, especially regarding religion (more on that later), but they can also provide information and help move the story along. His discussion on dogs and dog-thieves (Chapter 14, Section vi), for example, sets up the next part of the story. The narrator almost always treats Švejk with tenderness, commenting on his sweetness and charm.

Švejk is a wonderful creation. He does not develop or expand his limited self-awareness. He isn’t always consistent. Is he really a imbecile? He readily admits he is a half-wit, yet his perceptions often cut through to the heart of a matter. Although he constantly frames events through past experiences or anecdotes, his comments usually have nothing to do with the action or surreptitiously insult those around him. He claims to be honest but his dog business is a fraud (although he feels he couldn’t profit from it because he was so honest).

As an Everyman, Švejk can be seen as an ordinary (or below ordinary) person in extraordinary times. He claims he wants to do good. “I always want to put something right, to do good, but nothing ever comes out of it except trouble for me and all around.” Unfortunately this is the limit of his self-awareness. In wanting to do good, he rarely does anything of his own initiative—he is always following orders. Doing exactly as he is told, however, causes much of the trouble. He responds to commands with enthusiasm (which is usually questioned) and, if given any leeway in performing a duty, will choose an approach that only makes sense to his addled mind. I think it becomes clear to the reader that Švejk really is the half-wit he claims to be (see the comments for some reconsideration), but his actions highlight the absurdities that go on around him. Early in this section he is examined again by army doctors, but their psychiatric tests strike even Švejk as “even stupider nonsense.” Švejk occasionally utters insights that are a little too sane for those around him: “Except for my legs I’m completely sound cannon-fodder.”

The target of Hašek is not just the war, but bureaucracy in all areas of life that controls us. The nameless, faceless bureaucrats are given names and faces in this book so they can be mocked. In Švejk's world no one questions the system, instead blindly following orders to survive. Figuring out how to rig the system for personal benefit usually represents the only initiative shown. Švejk becomes the wrench in the bureaucratic system in several ways. First, he always cheerfully follows orders, much to the chagrin of the issuers—they do not know how to react to a lack of resistance except to question his motives. Second, he follows the orders as close as possible. Because a catastrophe usually follows his adherence, the system is shown to be flawed when operating as claimed. Third, Švejk continually distracts those around him. His assumptions may be incorrect (leading his escorts to get falling-down drunk since they believe Švejk is to be hanged) or he may be literally following orders (raising money for the chaplain by saying “whatever you like”, so Švejk says the chaplain had knocked up a fifteen year-old girl). Those around Švejk have to adjust for his presence, creating extra work just to avoid unpleasant outcomes.

Hašek’s view is that any bureaucratic system, whether government, religion or military, takes over the life of all that participates in it. While education is presented as an antidote, it is a partial one at best. Any system set up in this manner allows others to control your life regardless of their competence. Hašek highlights the arbitrary nature of the justice system under such bureaucrats, but examples of randomness are shown in every other sanctioned system. Being in these systems reduces people to passive, non-caring individuals whose actions are guided solely by trying not to make a mistake. Each system absolves the individual of personal responsibility, reducing them to reactive creatures (at least according to Hašek). Offices that used to hold great power and great responsibility now perform cruel and arbitrary acts in order to mask their current impotence, ignoring the 'responsibility' part of the equation. “[P]etty thieves … were a thousand times more honest than the blackguards who sent them there [jail].”

The absurdity of modern life under such bureaucracies takes on greater significance during The Great War, where military leaders fail to recognize or adapt their tactics to adjust for new realities, while half-wits like Švejk recognize that their only purpose is to be cannon-fodder. (Side-note: I am halfway through the book and there has only been one instance of action at the front relayed—it will be interesting to see if and how the front will be portrayed). Hašek holds the military in special disregard because the discipline imposed masks a lack of reason--you do what is asked solely to keep from bigger problems. Švejk blindly follows orders because he is an imbecile, frustrating his superiors who expect resistance. Since a system cannot anticipate every outcome and bureaucrats are stripped of the ability to reason, anarchy ensues when something out of the ordinary occurs. Freedom is mentioned often but is only an illusion, while those that seek it are automatically suspect. There are many instances, but I’ll provide two short quotes that encapulate Hašek’s attitude (and yes, they may appear completely out of the blue out of context):

“[P]olice headquarters presented the finest collection of bureaucratical beasts of prey, to whom gaols and gallows were the only means of defending the existence of the twisted clauses of the law.”

“Try hard to think that Austria rests on these enemas and victory is ours.”

In a world where statements like these make sense, absurdity has triumphed. Higher principles are laughed at—all that matters to everyone is what is in it for them. If it has the potential to control your life, Hašek is against it, which includes religion. Otto Katz, the chaplain at the garrison gaol, drinks heavily, whores around, gambles, makes up prayers and invents Masses. Originally Jewish, his current position is viewed as a business transaction. “His sermons were of an abstract character with no connection whatsoever with life today” (much like the entire bureaucratic structures). The narrator shifts his tone at the start of Chapter 11, launching a diatribe against organized religion. Yet Hašek is more successful in playful descriptions and soft pokes, such as when a sports cup is used in place of a chalice, hempseed oil is substituted for sacramental oil or Boccaccio’s Decameron fills the purpose of a breviary. Individuals that seem to care about the soldier’s souls are painted as hysterics. Services become elaborate pantomimes void of meaning:

“The service and sermons were a marvelous thrill in the boredom of the garrison gaol. It was not a question of getting nearer to God, but of the hope of finding on the way in the corridor or in the courtyard a fag-end or a cigar-end. A little fag-end, lying about hopelessly in a spittoon or somewhere in the dust on the floor, stole the show and God was nowhere. That little stinking object triumphed over God and the salvation of the soul.”

The ultimate question from Hašek, unasked but seemingly implied, is where could God reside in such a world? And how is man to act in such a world? Does the half-wit Švejk hold the philosophical key? “Maul halten und weiter dienen! (“Grin and bear it and get on with the job!) That’s the best and finest thing of all.” Švejk proclaims variations of this throughout—“We muddle along as we can.” Hašek is not implying any answer to those questions yet, content with mocking everything. Let's see where he takes us through the rest of the book...

The Good Soldier Švejk online resources

Illustration by Josef Lada from The Good Soldier Švejk
Picture source

Several recent nonfiction reads have included quite a bit on World War I and The Good Soldier Švejk by Jaroslav Hašek (my keyboard mojo is going to be sorely tested with this book) was mentioned. As I posted recently, Barbara Tuchman’s The Guns of August outlined the prelude and first month of World War I as well as set the stage for the war. I did not go into great detail about one of Tuchman’s themes in A Distant Mirror, which is in the title—the tumultuous times in the 14th century provides a reflection of our modern times. From the Forward:

If our last decade or two of collapsing assumptions has been a period of unusual discomfort, it is reassuring to know that the human species has lived through worse before. Curiously, the “phenomenal parallels” have been applied to another historian to earlier years of this century [the 20th]. Comparing the aftermaths of the Black Death and of World War I, James Westfall Thompson found all the same complaints: economic chaos, social unrest, high prices, profiteering, depraved morals, lack of production, industrial indolence, frenetic gaiety, wild expenditure, luxury, debauchery, social and religious hysteria, greed, avarice, maladministration, decay of manners.

Not to mention everything that occurred during the war. But how to respond to the death, destruction, and everything else Thompson lists? If you are Jaroslav Hašek, you reach back to a previously created character and satirize the times and what they created. Humor isn’t unprecedented in such a case—in looking at Thompson’s comparison, Chaucer immediately springs to mind. Yet Hašek’s targets, while far-ranging at times, tend to eventually center on various aspects of mind-numbing bureaucracy, whether in the military or government. There was a surprising number (to me) of sites dedicated to the author and the work. Here are a few I found interesting:

Jaroslav Hašek

The more I find out about Hašek the more I like him (but only at a safe distance). From the introduction of the Penguin Classics version (translation and introduction by Cecil Parrott), this event takes place just after World War I commenced:

He decided to fool the authorities by taking a room at U Valšů, which was notorious for being half-hotel and half-brothel, and registering himself there as a Russian. The name he wrote in the visitor’s book sounded Russian enough, but when read backwards in Czech it became ‘Kiss my arse.’ When required to state what he was doing in Prague he wrote that he was looking into the activities of the Austrian general staff. At the time war fever was at its height and the police were at once alerted and the hotel surrounded. They thought they had caught an important spy and were disappointed and embarrassed when they found that it none other than the by now notorious Hašek. Asked why he had done it Hašek replied in all innocence that he had wanted to assure himself that the Austrian police were operating effectively. He got off lightly with only five days’ imprisonment.

Švejk Central, includes a wealth of links and information regarding Hašek and the book

The Wikipedia entry on Hašek

Hašek’s entry at Books and Writers

An article at cultcargo.net: “Jaroslav Hašek - The Bad Bohemian”
“Life is no finishing school for young ladies.”

A Bohemian’s Tale by Andrew Parker, covering Hašek and the book

Švejk: A Hero For Our Time by Zenny K. Sadlon, “a few observations that Mike [Joyce] and I have made in the process of producing the new translation of Jaroslav Hašek's masterpiece of world literature.”

Update (2 Feb 2012): Jaroslav Seifert on Jaroslav Hasek at St. Orberose

Update (23 Sep 2012): The world renowned writer and ‘folk hero’ Jaroslav Hašek

Update (23 Sep 2012): Jaroslav Hašek: not just The Good Soldier Švejk


The Good Soldier Švejk

Ian Johnston’s lecture on The Good Soldier Švejk

John H. Lienhard has a brief article about the devastation that obediently following orders can cause

Dr Jan Culik’s article on the book and its intertwining with Hašek’s life

Wikipedia’s entry on the novel, including a couple of illustrations by Josef Lada

A good collection of Josef Lada’s color illustrations

Švejk has his own Facebook page

Update: Jomar Hønsi provides a couple more resource links in the comments.

Švejk restaurant (apparently one of many)
Photo at The Dan Hood Bookshelf