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Type of bind: Paperback
Dewey Decimal Number: 813
EAN num: 9780140186253
ISBN number: 0140186255
Label: Penguin Classics
Manufacturer: Penguin Classics
Quantity: 1
Page Count: 160
Printing Date: March 01, 1992
Publishing house: Penguin Classics
Sale Popularity Level: 38889
Studio: Penguin Classics
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Rated by buyers -
Awe and perhaps a bit of terror are the appropriate responses to this work. Schulz wrote like a man possessed by the spirit of creation - his sentences are alive, they breathe and hiss with colour and form as a revelation of the world is made. His control of imagery incarnate in language slides and shifts from the most gracious to the most grotesque. Beyond it all is a vision of the cogs and gears upon which the cosmos turns, a radiant pattern from the Baroque era. Schulz dropped down to the mythopoeic essence at the core of time and crafted stories that told more of his childhood than any more literal record could've.
Ten stars, and sadness for the premature passing of one of the greats.
Rated by buyers -
This is a great book. The beginning starts rather sweetly and relies perhaps a bit too much on a Kafkaesque-Proustian pastiche, but then the whole thing comes alive with the Father, the birds, and his theories regarding the Second Genesis. When the father assumes the podium-the book ceases to re/present and enters into Being. His monologues are fantastic! It is a pity they are so short. Schulz was a man of rare genius. His dual pursuit of writing and the visual arts make him an even more fascinating figure. I am eager to get his book of drawings.
Rated by buyers -
This book reveals a great talent that was taken from us. The richness of the sentences, their imagery and use of language reveal a great depth of talent. Who knows what Mozart might have done if he'd lived another 36 years? A slim volume worth every penny.
Rated by buyers -
I very first heard about this book through the pages of the 5-star novel "The History of Love." What is most unusual about it is the author's lack of intention to actually publish his writing. This book is a manifestation of personal letters he had addressed to a geographically distant friend. It is by no means an easy read. The language is powerful and supremely complex and requires absolute focus and sometimes the need to reread a paragraph a few times to truly appreciate the intense magnitude of brain power that this author possesses. This is a book of highly exaggerated proportions. Schulz takes "magical realism" to another level.
Convoluted ideas that twist into abstract thoughts walk through dark alleyways and emerge triumphant. This is how I would describe Schulz's writing. This is not the sort of book you can breeze through but rather, like a dense and flavorful truffle. You will want to savor every word, let it sink in and roll it around in your grey matter before you can appreciate its true meaning and beauty. There is real depth and symbolism in Schulz's writing. That said, it is certainly not for everyone. If you're looking for a lighthearted bedtime read, skip this book. On the other hand, if you're looking for mental stimulation and a book that truly promises an escape from reality, you won't be disappointed by this street of crocodiles.
Rated by buyers -
I am not sure I got this book in a real way. I had heard of and read of Bruno Schultz as a writer of the Shoah(The Holocaust) but the events of the Shoah are not a direct part of this story. The Shoah connection is given in the fact that Schultz was murdered by the Nazis.
The book itself I found disconcerting, bizaare, and difficult. It is filled with descriptions , word- pictures which seem at the one hand beautiful, and on the other somewhat unreal. I suppose what bothered me above all is the narrator's tone and relation to the events which are happening.
As the major action of the work relates to the physical and mental deterioration of the narrator's father I was taken aback by the lack of human sympathy displayed . In fact the whole disconnectedness of the human beings in the book to each other is another thing which makes the work so troublesome.
There is a world in this book, a mind in this book which is not like anything I myself have experienced even in reading.
But however beautiful some of the images given by this mind it seemed to me so fundamentally alien that I could not really grasp it.
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