A Classic Disppointment

I stumbled upon an e-library the other day called Classic Bookshelf. My initial reaction was one of delight, thinking that I had finally found a way to have my book and devour it. I entered the library and was greeted by dusty shelves crammed with yellowed, dog-eared classics. Well, at least that’s how it would look like if it were a real library!

I loved the idea. Now no one, myself included, had any excuse to be ignorant of Trollope, Sewell and Twain. Let me confess right now that I’m VERY ignorant of these literary greats. The only reason I remember Sewell’s name is not because I read Black Beauty as a child but because the crossword I was doing last week included her name. But I’m slowly educating myself. I picked up Anna Karenin a few months back and am determined to finish it by the end of the year. So yes, I was very pleased to see that a collection of classics was now available at the click of the mouse.

Then I decided to read a little of Anna Karenin just to get a feel of what it would be like reading a book online. That’s when I discovered that the online version differs from the real book. The gist of the meaning is the same but the words are different. Call me anal, but I didn’t like that one bit.

If I wanted to read a classic I would want to read it in its original piece. The website mentioned nothing about the books being abridged, unabridged or bridgeless so forgive me for expecting Tolstoy to sound exactly like Tolstoy. I just don’t think it’s right to mess around with other people’s work and hide this little detail from future readers. To make matters worse, the e-version doesn’t have the same impact as the original. In other words, readers are being deprived of the real thing. Kinda’ like giving a meat lover a hamburger with soy meat.

I’ve included both versions below. The first is the original and the second, the e-version. Think old Leo would be as startled as I am?


“And exactly at the moment when the space between the wheels drew level with her she threw aside the red bag and drawing her head down between her shoulders dropped in her hands under the truck, and with a light movement, as though she would rise again at once, sank on to her knees. At that same instance she became horror-struck at what she was doing. “Where am I? What am I doing? Why?” She tried to get up, to throw herself back; but something huge and relentless struck her on the head and dragged her down on her back. “God forgive me everything!” she murmured, feeling the impossibility of struggling. A little peasant muttering something was working at the rails. And the candle by which she had been reading the book filled with trouble and deceit, sorrow and evil, flared up with a brighter light, illuminating for her everything that before had been enshrouded in darkness, flickered, grew dim and went out forever.”

“And exactly at the moment when the space between the wheels came opposite her, she dropped the red bag, and drawing her head back into her shoulders, fell on her hands under the carriage, and lightly, as though she would rise again at once, dropped on to her knees. And at the same instant she was terror-stricken at what she was doing. "Where am I? What am I doing? What for?" she tried to get up, to drop backwards; but something huge and merciless struck her on the head and rolled her on her back. "Lord, forgive me all!" she said, feeling it impossible to struggle. A peasant muttering something was working at the iron above her. And the light by which she had read the book filled with troubles, falsehoods, sorrow, and evil, flared up more brightly than ever before, lighted up for her all that had been in darkness, flickered, began to grow dim, and was quenched forever.”