When I tell people how much time I spent studying *Don Quixote* they sometimes ask which translation they should read. If they don’t ask, I’m quick to tell them. Definitely avoid reading the very old translations. The Ormsby one was written by John Ormsby in 1885 a marvel of 19th-century scholarship, yes, but awfully literal and a bore on the eyes of a 21st reader. Unfortunately, this is hands down the most common translation you’ll find in thrift stores and used shops. Before Ormsby, there are some legendary—but hilariously odd—translations. Take Motteux’s version, for instance: done by a French-speaking translator reading through French and English sources, the result reads like “Franco-Cockney,” a strange linguistic chimera that Ormsby didn’t hold back from lambasting. Then there’s Jervas (misprinted as “Jarvis”)—a portrait painter by trade whose clean, competent rendering became one of the early go-to versions. Later, Smollett simply tweaked Jarvis’s work. In the mid-20th century, Samuel Putnam offered a modern, engaging version, while J. M. Cohen gave us a precise but often lifeless rendition. I prefer the [1995 Raffel](https://wwnorton.com/books/9780393315097) translation, for its smooth, accessible energy. Edith Grossman’s 2003 version, though widely acclaimed, has never grabbed me the way Raffel’s translation has. I’ve been delighted by the playful translation in Montgomery’s 2006 version. If you do decide you’d like to read Don Quixote, I highly recommend reading alongside it the fantastic companion—[Ilan Stavans’s _Quixote: The Novel and the World_](https://bookshop.org/p/books/quixote-the-novel-and-the-world-ilan-stavans/11182347?ean=9780393353426&next=t)—which guides you through the novel’s global impact, historical context, and cultural legacy. You’ll get much more out of the book reading this. It’s like taking the course that I took.