Hofstadter's translation of the great Russian poem "Eugene Onegin" deserves credit on two counts. First, it is a modern, lyrical, jovial and admittedly singsong (due to the author's strict adherence to the original iambic tetrameter) translation of Pushkin's masterwork. It is a translation to be read aloud, to be shared with one you love. Second, in its preface it holds a concise statement of Hofstadter's extensive thoughts (see "Le Ton Beau De Marot") on the art, whimsy, folly and beauty of translation itself. It has been mentioned that Hofstadter looks down on Nabokov's "translation", but this is not entirely without cause. Nabokov's stodgy literal gloss of "Onegin", eschewing meter and rhyme, serves as a dictionary and a deathblow. Pushkin's poem is vibrant and alive in Russian; Hofstadter boldly suggests that we english-speakers may also experience this life denied by Nabokov. This book will teach you something about poetry, something about translation, and hopefully give you a feel for what Pushkin's Russia might have been like.