Ich lach mich futsch! Eine unglaublich witzige Satire auf k. u k., die österreichische Bürokratie und allgemeine Idiotien der Armee. Die wunderbarsten Flüche finden sich hier.
Der erste Teil ist der beste, den vierten Teil kann man sich auch sparen.. ( )

First, will say there are a couple of misogynist bits and one particularly bad racist page right near the start of volume 2 chapter 3 that can easily be skipped

Overall there are lots of laugh out moments. The rambling anecdotes of Svejk are inane and "utter tripe" as Lieutenant Lukas describes them but Hasek (and the translator) writes the stories fluently so that even when there's not really a joke they're a pleasure to read. I think in general the only wider criticism I have against it there's too much filler where nothing is happening - it's still fine to read, just could easily have been 5 star with a bit of trimming. The humour is great mostly and the regular juxtaposition of a light-hearted story with a deadly conclusion is always striking. The general illustration of the absurdity and futility of war and militaries in general is great and shown through many funny vignettes. ( )

Not quite as satisfying on a reread, but still one of the great 20th Century picaresques and a seminal war satire, passing the baton directly from Simplicissimus to the likes of Heller and Eastlake. The characters are indelible: the terminally uptight Lt Dub, the apelike, arm-swinging glutton Baloun, the long-suffering but essentially noble Lt Lukáš, and of course Švejk himself with his inexhaustible fund of pointless anecdotes and reductio ad absurdums, a kind of super-moronic Sancho Panza (to Lukáš' Quixote?) whose response to the idiocy of endless war is to meet it on its own idiotic, interminable terms.

Hašek's disgust for the role of the Church in war is extremely palpable. Here he is describing some prayer-cards, penned by the Archbishop of Budapest and distributed to the men by a couple of well-meaning old ladies:

According to the venerable archbishop the merciful Lord ought to cut the Russians, British, Serbs, French and Japanese into mincemeat, and make a paprika goulash out of them. The merciful Lord ought to bathe in the blood of the enemies and murder them all, as the ruthless Herod had done with the Innocents.

His Eminence, the Archbishop of Budapest, used in his prayers such beautiful sentences as for instance: 'God bless your bayonets that they may pierce deeply into your enemies' bellies. May the most just Lord direct the artillery fire onto the heads of the enemy staffs. May merciful God grant that all your enemies choke in their own blood from the wounds which you will deal them!'

And although the plot, such as it is, never makes it to any actual combat (I wonder if it would have done had the author lived to complete it?), the horror of the front is never far away. Here's an anonymous character in a discussion on the prevalence of shit on the battlefield:

'And a dead man, who lay on top of the cover with his legs hanging down and half of whose head had been torn off by shrapnel, just as though he'd been cut in half, he too in the last moment shitted so much that it ran from his trousers over his boots into the trenches mixed with blood. And half his skull together with his brains lay right underneath. A chap doesn't even notice how it happens to him.'

Ultimately though, Švejk is a pre-postmodern work, the theatre of war meeting the theatre of the absurd. Exchanges like this, very near the end of the book, capture the spirit of it, I think:

Vaněk asked with interest:

'How long do you think the war will go on, Švejk?'

'Fifteen years,' answered Švejk. 'That's obvious because once there was a thirty years' war and now we're twice as clever as they were before.'

And at its heart, amid all the inanity, the tedium, the degradations, if you squint very hard, there's a kernel of something decent:

Lieutenant Lukáš walked along the track thinking: 'I ought to have given him a few on the jaw, but instead I've been gossiping with him as though he were a friend.'

( )

Couldn’t get into this. The side stories are to frequent and drove me crazy. Which may have well been the author’s point. But not for me ( )

Occasionally laugh out loud funny, but it is a long one gag story. ( )

Originally published in Czech as Osudy dobrého vojáka Švejka za světové války (1921 – 1923).

Translated from the Czech by Cecil Parrott.

Original illustrations by Josef Lada

Published by Penguin Books in 1973.

The funniest novel about the First World War. With the latest adaptation of Erich Maria Remarque’s poignant classic All Quiet on the Western Front up for several Oscar nominations, The Good Soldier Švejk and His Fortunes in the World War is its complete antithesis. Sprawling, bawdy, blasphemous, and funny as hell, Hašek’s comic vision is Rabelaisian in its hilarious critique of bureaucracy, warmongers, clerics, and stuffy-nosed superior officers. The eponymous Švejk joins the fight as the most loyal Czech in the Austrian Army. Before heading to the Front, he earns his living as a duplicitous dog-seller. Conning buyers into thinking mutts are purebreds, he makes a dishonest wage and then spends the rest of the time in the bars. When he joins up, he spends most of his time in the brig or driving his superior officers to the brink of insanity.

Published shortly after the Great War, it represents a fundamental ur-text of Czech literature. Translated from the Czech by Cecil Parrott, he explains the challenges such a text offers to the translator. “Švejk and many of the other characters in the book use what is called ‘obecná čeština’ or common Czech, which is not quite the same as literary or book Czech. […] This cannot be adequately rendered in English[.]” (emphasis Parrott’s). This is compounded by Švejk speaking a sort of double-speak. Parrott does a commendable job, echoing the spirit of the text without devolving into an artificial Cockney or low-class English argot. It is also exposes how literary translation isn’t an exact art, which isn’t to say it is inaccurate or unworthy. It is an art, not a science, although an understanding of the language, history, and culture is absolutely necessary, in addition to biographical information about its author. Beyond all these challenges and complications, there is no authorized edition of Švejk. The Penguin edition reproduces all the original illustrations by Josef Lada, but not Lada’s fabricated ending following Hašek’s untimely death. Described by Parrott as “primitive and populist,” Lada’s illustrations add an additional level of enjoyment to the reading experience. Švejk is depicted as a rotund smiling mensch, similar in physique to Curly from The Three Stooges.

In his journeys, Švejk serves as a batman (a British term for orderly) to a drunken priest and his long-suffering superior officer Lieutenant Lukáš. Throughout the novel, the good soldier never fails to provide an anecdote, history, or reminisce related to the conversation at hand. To take a modern parallel, Švejk is like Raymond Reddington from the TV series The Blacklist. Unlike the charismatic arms dealer, most around the orderly take him for an idiot.

The novel is a cornerstone in Czech literature, but also has become an antecedent to other comic novels. One sees Catch-22 in embryo, Švejk’s shenanigans akin to Yossarian’s futile protests against the absurdity of war. The novel’s acidic depiction of military bureaucracy will be seen again in Evelyn Waugh’s trilogy of the Second World War, Sword of Honour (1952 – 1961). The novel’s meandering hero and endless digressions bring to mind Thomas Pynchon’s V. (1963). Unlike Waugh’s Anglo-Catholic conservatism, Hašek’s personal and political anarchism gives the novel its antic energy and digressive charm. ( )

המלחמה מעולם לא נראתה כל כך מטומטמת וחיי צבא מתוארים בצורה שכל חייל בכל צבא מזהה. מצויין ( )

Well, we read this for one of our f2f book groups, and I got about 2/3 of the way through before my eyes glazed over and I found myself falling asleep and dreaming the end of each sentence. Classic though it might be, it wore out its welcome with me. Schwiek is a con-man and otherwise a cypher at the start of WWI in the Czech-speaking part of the Austro-Hungarian empire, and the book is a series of escapes from a bureaucratic, idiotic and mismanaged army and surrounding society. No one actually gets into battle by the book's ending, but the cruelty and mismanagement the erstwhile hero keeps subverting is a sarcastic look at a rotting system. Glad I peeked at it, not sorry I didn't finish it. ( )

"Každá generace si musí pořídit svůj vlastní překlad Shakespeara", praví literární doktrína. Tento okřídlený výrok je však třeba ještě rozvést dále: každá česká umělecká generace, která se chce duchovně osamostatnit, by si měla nalézt svůj vlastní pohled na ústřední dílo naší literatury, Haškovy Osudy dobrého vojáka Švejka za světové války. Nový zorný úhel překvapivě po dlouhá léta scházel, snad proto, že kresby Josefa Lady se všeobecně považovaly za klasické a v Čechách tudíž za posvátné a nedotknutelné. Nová edice nejčastěji vydávaného českého literárního díla je proto příjemným překvapením. Čtenáře jistě potěší padesáti vynikajícími moderními kresbami Karla Klose, které posunují geniální Haškovu klasiku na úroveň dneška.

Very little of the humour appealed to me. I smiled once or twice, that was about all.

The satirical tale of a czech soldier, part of the austro-hungarian army during WWI. A lot of the humour of this story still holds up well. It would have been nice to know that the book is unfinished, however although you'd like more closure the story still stands up well as it is.
Svejk is very much like Baldric from Black Adder or Homer Simpson, but your never entirely sure how stupid he is. Oh he's certainly not the brightest but behind that suspiciously honest face is a pretty devious mind, at least at times.
The Czechs are looked down on by the rest of the army and people are constantly trying to find traitors or reasons to punish the lower ranks. Svejk has developed the perfect defense to survive in these dangerous conditions, constantly agreeing with everything the army does, coupled with a garrulous nature that usually drives his superiors nuts and makes them forget what they planning on doing to him.
His constant stream of little stories, are both a highlight and a problem of the book. It might be quite annoying for some to have these innumerable diversions and i personally thought it would get old fast but it never really did for me, i did however quite like it on those occasions when Svejk was ordered to shut up before he could finish :) .
Oh.. and the constant suspicion and risk of being locked up or executed by your own side, made it seem like a parody of 1984 at times.
As i said its unfinished and more of a denouement would have been nice but overall very good and i won't be forgetting Svejk any time soon. ( )

Jaroslav Hasek is the Czech equivalent of Joseph Heller and Mark twain among Americans. Perhaps inadvertently he manages to convey the mental atmosphere of a time period through a collection of apparently humorous episodes. but as "If it not true they won't laugh" he also illuminates the world of Central Europe in a timeless fashion. If you want to step out of the English-speaking box, to join hands with another set of survivors who live a good deal closer to the risk of imminent destruction, this is the book. Warning, the book is incomplete, we don't know whether the author planned a happy ending for our hero, but, as it is central Europe i rather doubt it. ( )

Den tappre soldaten Švejks äventyr under världskriget är förmodligen en av få krigsromaner som avslutas just när huvudpersonen anländer till fronten – Hašek själv avslutade inte sin roman, och den utgavs postumt. Den tappre soldaten ifråga hinner ändå med en väldig massa. Han är synbarligen ingen starkare begåvning, är begiven på starka drycker, mat och att berätta långa anekdoter om personer han någon gång stött på. Vore det inte för att han frivilligt sökt sig till armén skulle man kunna tro att han med sin godlynta uppsyn och förmåga att alltid ställa till det för sig eller sin omgivning vore slugheten personifierad, någon slags agent utskickad för att ställa till det i den k. och k. östterikisk-ungerska armén.

Švejk är på väg ut i kriget, i en armé styrd av lika delar inkompetens, nepotism och allmän fnoskighet. Det finns ett fåtal någorlunda sympatiska officerare, men de flesta är antingen nippriga, alkoholister eller översittare. De få som verkar någorlunda intelligenta är de som förstår att de kommer klara sig bättre om de håller sig någorlunda väl med Švejk, som alltid tycks klara sig helskinnad igenom vad som nu månde hända, från att bli kalfaktor hos en söndersupen fältpräst till att bli tillfångatagen som rysk rymling och hamna inför ståndsrätt.

Det hela är ungefär som 91:an, förutom att det faktiskt pågår ett krig: i slutet hamnar Švejk vid fronten, och får beskåda sönderskjutna byar, svältande familjer och stinkande, grunda gravar. Det är brist på nästan allt utom dumhet, och de vanliga soldaterna får försöka klara sig så gott de kan. För Švejks del är det gott nog, men liksom 91:an så blir det efter ett tag lite väl enahanda. ( )

H2.1.4

A very amusing book, with rather diminishing rewards; there are only so many times you can make the joke about how the soldier ate the officer's food before it starts to get boring, and I more or less stopped paying attention to those jokes at the end of part two--which meant part three was more tedious than entertaining. Hasek didn't finish it, and that's probably a good thing. I fear the 1000 page monster which is still recycling jokes by page 989. It's also good because the point of the book as it stands seems to be that Svejk avoids ever actually, you know, fighting in the war, and if the book had ended, he would have had to i) fight, which would have ruined the effect, or ii) not fight, which would have led to still more endless jokes.

This review is getting as drawn out as the book, so: read this over a long period, long enough that you can respond to the repeated jokes the way people used to respond to repeated jokes in TV sitcoms. Hasek had an endless supply of stupid stories for Svejk to tell, which is the heart and joy of the book; he did not have an endless supply of stories for Svejk to act act, which means long stretches of this are static and uninteresting. Better, then, for dipping into than for concerted reading (which is, I regret, how I usually read).

And extra star for being the best-illustrated novel I have ever and probably will ever read, graphic novels included. ( )

This book is in 4 volumes, and really my rating is 5 stars for volume 1, 1 star for volume 2, and I didn't even start reading volumes 3 and 4. The first volume would make a lovely (and already fairly long) stand-alone novel, in which Hašek uses Svejk as a sort of universal "wise fool" character to show up the stupidity of everyone else around him, imperialism, reverence for royalty, patriotism and war. It's lightly written, but often quite cutting, and for a few hundred pages it's a delightful read. The trouble is, by the end of volume 1 it's already starting to get repetitive, so volume 2 became a real slog, and ultimately I lost patience with Svejk's monologues and gave up. ( )

This book is in 4 volumes, and really my rating is 5 stars for volume 1, 1 star for volume 2, and I didn't even start reading volumes 3 and 4. The first volume would make a lovely (and already fairly long) stand-alone novel, in which Hašek uses Svejk as a sort of universal "wise fool" character to show up the stupidity of everyone else around him, imperialism, reverence for royalty, patriotism and war. It's lightly written, but often quite cutting, and for a few hundred pages it's a delightful read. The trouble is, by the end of volume 1 it's already starting to get repetitive, so volume 2 became a real slog, and ultimately I lost patience with Svejk's monologues and gave up. ( )

la stupidité d'un monde stupide... ou bien la lucidité d'être stupide dans un monde stupide... ( )

An engaging and incredibly funny look at the dying hours of the Austria-Hungary monarchy, this classic of European 20th century literature tells the tale of the Czech private Švejk, who is desperately trying to get to the front-line to defend the emperor and the motherland, only to be always thwarted by some unfortunate event at the last minute.

This book is particularly interesting to the people living in the area of the former monarchy, as it is also an examination of the lives of our recent ancestors and the relations between the monarchy's nations of the time.

Read in Slovene under the title Dobri vojak Švejk. ( )

Это прямо таки энциклопедия людской глупости, подлости и скотства.

Книга, как и её герои — неоднозначна. Сложно и не всегда возможно оценить не только описываемых людей в целом, но и даже их отдельные поступки. У меня даже сначала был дискомфорт и желание бросить чтение, но потом пришло понимание, что жизнь многогранна и никто не знает, какие финты она завтра выкинет.

Настоятельно рекомендую после прочтения книги ознакомиться с биографией Гашека — так впечатление от книги будет ещё полнее.
( )

This is quite a tome. It is really four books in one or three and a half, as the author expired before the final book was completed. This is my first reading of a Czech author. I understand that the Austro-Hungarian Empire was held back by the Russians and later the Italians, otherwise the Anglo-French and their allies may have been in some mighty trouble during the Great War. Švejk puts an interesting spin on the peoples and cultures of this part of the conflict and, as an ex-soldier, I couldn't help but chuckle at the timeless idiocies of the military life, and Švejk's nonchalant way of handling such banal annoyances as "greatcoats on, greatcoats off", making "lists of lists", and nonsensical statistics about serving soldiers. While the work is part comedy, it is also satirical. In my mind's eye the comical events were reinforced by the cartoon drawings of Švejk and his antics. These cartoon characters tended to dance in front of real war footage, so a Laurel and Hardy figure had me laughing with embarrassment while at the same time I felt like I shouldn't be laughing. The effect is brilliant. There are so many stories within stories, and Švejk reminds me of the many characters I crossed paths with during my time in the army. One constantly came to mind as I read The Good Soldier Švejk: a soldier who could recite word for word any Monty Python movie ever made. At times, you had to tell him to just shut up, but it was hard to dislike him. Švejk is this same person. Tragic comedy is how I would describe this work. Brilliant. ( )

Hosszú idő óta készültem a könyvre, de a hossza kissé riasztott.
Végül úgy futottam neki, hogy mivel befejezetlen, ezért bármikor abbahagyhatom, ha már elég.
Nem bántam meg, hogy végigolvastam.
A könyv egy nézőpontból egy anekdota-gyűjtemény, amiből a Monarchia napjait ismerhetjük meg, elsősorban cseh szemmel.
A sok történet ellenére a _regénynek_ minimális a története: Svejket némi hadbírósági és kórházi kitérő után besorozzák és szép lassan Magyarországon keresztül eljut a galíciai frontra.
Emiatt nem túl izgalmas olvasni, a Monarchia életképeit viszont érdemes megismerni, ezért jó a végére érni.
Egy pillanatra felmerülhet, hogy kedélyes történetekről van itt szó, de ez csak részben igaz: Svejk nagyon sokszor szörnyű dolgokat mesél vagy a szörnyűség viccesen előadva.
Halálba kergetett önkéntes, a csata hevében saját társai által kivégzett emberkínzó parancsok, öncsonkító frontkerülő, embertelen körülmények, melyek nem lepnek meg senkit.

A könyv fő erőssége, hogy az is mind benne van, amiért a Monarchia jó volt és az is, amiért szét kellett hullania: mindenféle nemzetiség színes kavalkádja, ugyanakkor folyamatos nemzetiségi ellentétek, verekedések. Besúgó hálózat, a legkisebb, akár félreértett elhajlásért is irgalmatlan büntetések, német felsőbbrendűség, erőszakos elnémetesítés, mindenhol ellenséges kémet látó katonai rendőrség.

Svejkről nem lehet egyértelműen eldönteni, hogy hülye vagy csak játssza azért, hogy mindent megússzon. Valószínűleg nem egy ragyogó elme, mégis ügyesen lavíroz, hogy minél kevesebb pofont kapjon. Ugyanakkor, ha a pofon érkezik és nem lehet elhajolni előle, akkor talán életigenlésből pozitívnak állítja be a helyzetet (emiatt is nézik legtöbbször hülyének).

A rengeteg történetből több színdarabnyi anyag is kitelik, amit akár mókásabbra vagy drámaibbra is lehet hangszerelni.

Néhány idézet, amiből látszik, hogy Hasek komolyan kritizálta az addigra már elbukott birodalma(ka)t.

"A világháború nagy vágóhídja sem nélkülözhette a papi áldást. Valamennyi hadsereg tábori lelkészei imádkoztak, és tábori miséket celebráltak annak a félnek a győzelméért, amelynek a kenyerét ették."

"Mint a marhák, úgy mentek az emberek egész Európából a vágóhídra, ahová mészáros-császárokon, királyokon, elnökökön s más hatalmasságokon és hadvezéreken kívül az összes hitfelekezetek papjai is terelték őket, áldásukat adva rájuk, és hamis esküt véve tőlük, hogy "szárazföldön, levegőben és tengeren satöbbi, satöbbi". "

""Mióta szolgálsz?" "Több, mint negyven éve, tábornagy úr! Aspernnél aranyérmet kaptam, Lipcsénél is ott voltam, hadikeresztem is van, ötször sebesültem meg halálosan, most azonban tisztára vége az életemnek . De minő szerencse és boldogság, hogy megértem a mai napot. Mit törődöm én a halállal, amikor dicső győzelmet arattunk, és a császár visszanyerte a földjét!"
A haldokló még egyszer ráhajolt a tábornagy kezére, csókot lehelt rá, majd visszahanyatlott, s az utolsó csöndes lehelet kiszállt nemes lelkéből.
Kedves katonák, én azt kívánom nektek, hogy ilyen gyönyörű véget érjetek ti is mindannyian."

"Az egyik vagon ajtajában a lábát lógató legénységnek támaszkodva egy harciasan kipödrött bajuszú káplár állt, és előrehajolva a levegőbe verte a taktust, miközben torkaszakadtából ordított [egy dalt].
Aztán a káplár hirtelen elveszítette az egyensúlyát, kiröpült a vagonból, hasával teljes erőből nekiütödött egy váltókarnak, felnyársalódott rajta, és ott maradt lógva, a vonat pedig tovább robogott, miközben a hátsó vagonok utasai egy másik nótát fújtak."

Ráérősen olvasni ideális. ( )

ISBN: 9051084625

It was hard to pick a rating for Jaroslav Hasek's novel "The Good Soldier Svejk." I liked the concept of the book much more than its actual execution -- it quickly got too repetitive and even the amusing bits didn't really sing anymore.

The book follows Svejk, who is either an idiot or very good at playing one -- as he becomes a Czech soldier during World War I. There are about a zillion different Svejk antics in the book, that mostly end up the same way-- he nearly gets, jailed, committed or executed but someone believes he is just too dumb for words and therefore he is saved. Onto the next antic...

Hasek's point about the futility of war is amply illustrated and there is a good bit of humor in the story. Had it been given a good edit for length and content, I probably would have enjoyed it more. ( )

Selvom man aldrig har læst Svejk, så har man en fornemmelse af, hvem han er – og det siger jo i sig selv en hel del om, hvor markante aftryk Haseks romanfigur har sat på populærkulturen og på vores erindringer om 1. verdenskrig.

Romanen starter den dag ærkehertug Ferdinand og hans kone bliver dræbt ved et attentat i Sarajevo. Hundehandler Svejk er som så ofte før ude at få sig et glas, og netop denne dag går politispionerne særligt grundigt til værks. Selvom han gør sig umage for kun at tale pænt om ærkehertugen, kejseren og Østrig-Ungarn i almindelighed, bliver han arresteret.

Og dermed begynder Svejks lange vandring gennem krigens bagland. Selvom han hurtigt bliver indkaldt, så var han nemlig endnu ikke nået frem til fronten, da Hasek døde i januar 1923, midt i dikteringen af det fjerde af seks planlagte bind. Overalt møder han omverdenen med en strøm af anekdoter, jovial gemytlighed og pinlig korrekt lydighed. Dvs. han adlyder ordrernes og reglementets bogstav, men ikke nødvendigvis dets ånd eller sine foresattes hensigter, og mere end én gang går han forkert, så rejsen bliver længere og langsommere end nødvendigt.

Nils Arne Sørensen beskæftiger sig indgående med Svejk i Den store krig, hvor han udlægger svinkeærinderne som en bevidst overlevelsesstrategi: Krigshandlingerne var så hårde og blodige, at enhver fornuftig soldat måtte gøre sit yderste for ikke at komme kamp – og eftersom alle hærene slog hårdt ned på alle nægtere, var det kun med list og Svejks særlige ”arbejd efter reglerne” obstruktion, at det var muligt at krybe uden om.

Den udlægning kan jeg godt følge, men i praksis opnår Svejk ikke meget. Vi er stadig i 1915, da romanen slutter, og hans regiment er allerede på kanten af kamphandlingerne. Til gengæld formår Svejk at udstille de mange idiotiske elementer i krigen. Først og fremmest retter han sin galde mod de mange reserveofficerer, der er gået direkte fra det civile liv til en fremtrædende plads i hæren, hvor de doserer nationalistisk bavl i så rigelige mængder, at både menige og de professionelle officerer er ved at koge over. Særligt løjtnant Dub får tørt på.

Svejk er den altdominerende figur i romanen, men jeg havde også stor sympati for premierløjtnant Lukas. Svejk bliver tidligt ordonnans for ham, og det går ikke stille af. Lukas er en inkarneret skørtejæger, og Svejk er snedig nok til at hjælpe ham med stort og småt i den henseende, men da Lukas beder om at få en hund, går det galt. Svejk får oberstens hund stjålet, og inden længe er de begge to på vej til fronten. Lukas er selvsagt rødglødende, men det er som om han vænner sig til Svejk efterhånden – og i takt med at Svejk også laver numre med de foragtede reserveofficerer, opstår der et særligt bånd mellem dem.

Den gode soldat Svejks eventyr er et modstykke til frontberetningerne fra 1. verdenskrig. Barbusses Ilden og Remarques Intet nyt fra vestfronten handler om de frygtelige oplevelser i skyttegravene, men det meste af soldaternes tid gik med træning, opmarch, transporter og hvil bag fronten. Her træder systemets tåbeligheder endnu tydeligere frem, og dagene er utvivlsomt gået med historier, kortspil og tilværelsens almindelige banaliteter.

Som roman har bogen sine begrænsninger. De mange anekdoter bliver lidt enerverende – især når Haseks alterego, den etårsfrivillige Marek kommer på banen – og i det hele taget ville romanen have haft gavn af en kærlig men håndfast redaktør. ( )