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rhexis's review
5.0
Surreal brilliance from Schulz. My first time reading this author and it will not be the last.
romrosp's review against another edition
5.0
S. 22
Denn gewöhnliche Bücher sind wie Meteore. Jedes von ihnen hat nur eienen einzigen Moment, einen Augenblick, in dem es wie ein Phönix mit einem Schrei in die Lüfte emporsteigt und alle seine Seiten in Flammen stehen. Für diesen einen Moment, für diesen einzigen Augenblick lieben wir sie später, auch wenn sie dann nur noch Asche sind.
S. 191
"Der ganze Trick ist der, daß wir die Zeit zurückgestellt haben. Wir hinken zeitlich um ein bestimmtes Intervall hinterher, dessen Ausmaß unmöglich genau bestimmt werden kann. Das ganze wird auf einen simplen Relativismus zurückgestellt. "
S. 207
Schuld an allem ist der rasche, von niemandem gleichbleibend aufmerksam überwachte Zerfall der Zeit.
Wir alle wissen, daß sich dieses disziplinlose Element eigentlich nur mit unablässigen Züchtungen, fürsorglicher Pflege, sorgfältiger Regulation und der Korrektur seiner Mutwilligkeiten notdürftig unter Kontrolle halten läßt. Ohne diese Betreuung neigt es sofort zu Überschreitungen, zu wilden Aberrationen, zu unberechenbaren Streichen...
Die Zeit meines Vaters und meine eigene Zeit paßten nicht mehr zusammen.
Denn gewöhnliche Bücher sind wie Meteore. Jedes von ihnen hat nur eienen einzigen Moment, einen Augenblick, in dem es wie ein Phönix mit einem Schrei in die Lüfte emporsteigt und alle seine Seiten in Flammen stehen. Für diesen einen Moment, für diesen einzigen Augenblick lieben wir sie später, auch wenn sie dann nur noch Asche sind.
S. 191
"Der ganze Trick ist der, daß wir die Zeit zurückgestellt haben. Wir hinken zeitlich um ein bestimmtes Intervall hinterher, dessen Ausmaß unmöglich genau bestimmt werden kann. Das ganze wird auf einen simplen Relativismus zurückgestellt. "
S. 207
Schuld an allem ist der rasche, von niemandem gleichbleibend aufmerksam überwachte Zerfall der Zeit.
Wir alle wissen, daß sich dieses disziplinlose Element eigentlich nur mit unablässigen Züchtungen, fürsorglicher Pflege, sorgfältiger Regulation und der Korrektur seiner Mutwilligkeiten notdürftig unter Kontrolle halten läßt. Ohne diese Betreuung neigt es sofort zu Überschreitungen, zu wilden Aberrationen, zu unberechenbaren Streichen...
Die Zeit meines Vaters und meine eigene Zeit paßten nicht mehr zusammen.
fourtriplezed's review
4.0
‘It is part of my existence to be the parasite of metaphors’ writes the author in the very short story Loneliness. He has a point. This entire collection of short stories is riddled with metaphor. Riddled? For all I know maybe it is all just metaphor. It has also been a challenge for me personally.
This collection, to me anyway, is a heady mix of the metaphor with childlike fantasy and delirious dreaming that seemingly mixes the authors life memories/observations that cover his childhood through to the fear of old age and all the trials and tribulations in between. Something like that anyway.
Did I like this collection? Mostly yes but sometimes no. The highs had me rereading, taking in the dreams and the metaphors, even laughing inside. The final few lines of The Old Age Pensioner were sadly amusing as an example of that inner laugh.
Spring, the longest of the tales is amazingly surreal. It is so compellingly odd I am hardly capable of describing it. Under normal circumstances I would not be that attracted this style of prose but I actually reread it such was that attraction.
My Father Joins the Fire Brigade is weirdly hilarious. Sanatorium under the Sign of the Hourglass is weirdly sad and also very dark for that matter.
The Old Age Pensioner also covers the hilarious. It may also cover the demented sadness of old age and if so that puts my thoughts of hilarity in its place.
Loneliness? The title of that short work speaks for itself.
The interesting part of finishing this book has been my research into the author. Among other things he has little output. Only 2 books and I have apparently read the wrong book first. He was an artist; my copy has some of his really wonderful line drawings. He seemingly received little attention until after his terrible murder at the hands of the Nazis. There now seems a plethora of books, internet sites etc. dedicated to him. Even a couple of eminent writers, Roth for example, have made mention of him in their own work. He has had a film made from his works that is considered a Polish masterpiece of cinema.
So why have I only given him 4 stars (3.5 if I could)? Because at its best this collection is outstanding but when not at its best I have to admit it is a bit above my tiny little mind, I just don’t get it. Also I have wondered at times if Schulz was consuming mind altering substances while writing all this crazy metaphor. On the other hand that thought may say more about me.
This collection, to me anyway, is a heady mix of the metaphor with childlike fantasy and delirious dreaming that seemingly mixes the authors life memories/observations that cover his childhood through to the fear of old age and all the trials and tribulations in between. Something like that anyway.
Did I like this collection? Mostly yes but sometimes no. The highs had me rereading, taking in the dreams and the metaphors, even laughing inside. The final few lines of The Old Age Pensioner were sadly amusing as an example of that inner laugh.
Spring, the longest of the tales is amazingly surreal. It is so compellingly odd I am hardly capable of describing it. Under normal circumstances I would not be that attracted this style of prose but I actually reread it such was that attraction.
My Father Joins the Fire Brigade is weirdly hilarious. Sanatorium under the Sign of the Hourglass is weirdly sad and also very dark for that matter.
The Old Age Pensioner also covers the hilarious. It may also cover the demented sadness of old age and if so that puts my thoughts of hilarity in its place.
Loneliness? The title of that short work speaks for itself.
The interesting part of finishing this book has been my research into the author. Among other things he has little output. Only 2 books and I have apparently read the wrong book first. He was an artist; my copy has some of his really wonderful line drawings. He seemingly received little attention until after his terrible murder at the hands of the Nazis. There now seems a plethora of books, internet sites etc. dedicated to him. Even a couple of eminent writers, Roth for example, have made mention of him in their own work. He has had a film made from his works that is considered a Polish masterpiece of cinema.
So why have I only given him 4 stars (3.5 if I could)? Because at its best this collection is outstanding but when not at its best I have to admit it is a bit above my tiny little mind, I just don’t get it. Also I have wondered at times if Schulz was consuming mind altering substances while writing all this crazy metaphor. On the other hand that thought may say more about me.
sisteray's review
4.0
Really gorgeous amorphous writing that flows like a tone poem. It's like reading one very long Lawrence Ferlinghetti piece only with far less plot. It is a dreamy recount of fleeting childhood memories where everything blends and melds in a viscous sticky web. The best way to describe it is how when you are really tired but you are really enjoying reading a good book, you push yourself to read more but after a few pages you have no idea what you just read and you are totally confused as to what is going on. The whole piece recreates that feeling.
The problem is that it often feels like the ravings of a madman. It is meandering and often pointless. In writing there is always a discussion of show don't tell, but when it comes to story, Schulz likes to show scenes and scenarios but doesn't seem at all interested in telling a story.
I have to admit, that for as beautiful as I felt that the writing was, this book was a tough slog to get through. Even though the book runs under a hundred pages, this took me a few weeks to get through, I'd read a few pages and then just had to put it down. I had to muscle through to the end of the book. That said, I do think that it is good, and the writing is compelling, but everything is in the moment, and often is depressing.
I appreciate the groundwork that this author has done, but I can't help but feel that Thomas Ligotti borrowed his style and made something better out of it; something cohesive and with a direction, rather than just navel gazing.
The problem is that it often feels like the ravings of a madman. It is meandering and often pointless. In writing there is always a discussion of show don't tell, but when it comes to story, Schulz likes to show scenes and scenarios but doesn't seem at all interested in telling a story.
I have to admit, that for as beautiful as I felt that the writing was, this book was a tough slog to get through. Even though the book runs under a hundred pages, this took me a few weeks to get through, I'd read a few pages and then just had to put it down. I had to muscle through to the end of the book. That said, I do think that it is good, and the writing is compelling, but everything is in the moment, and often is depressing.
I appreciate the groundwork that this author has done, but I can't help but feel that Thomas Ligotti borrowed his style and made something better out of it; something cohesive and with a direction, rather than just navel gazing.
imakandiway's review
dark
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
1.0
forever_amber's review against another edition
5.0
една галактика звезди за този шедьовър, който Бруно Шулц е оставил след себе си за нас, поклонниците на красивото.
съкрушена съм, толкова е прекрасно, набъбнали сълзи мътниха погледа ми не веднъж или два пъти, само за да се скрият обратно, за да дочетат алчно края на изречението.
ех, в такива мигове след затварянето на подобна последна корица обичам живота хиляда пъти по-силно, отколкото в обикновен ден (а за мен всеки ден неизменно таи обещания за магичност и винаги го живея като да е най-страхотният в живота ми).
PS. Умозамайващ превод на Магдалена Атанасова.
[и малко повече от допустимите печатни(?) грешки за качеството на „Аквариус“, но случва се...]
съкрушена съм, толкова е прекрасно, набъбнали сълзи мътниха погледа ми не веднъж или два пъти, само за да се скрият обратно, за да дочетат алчно края на изречението.
ех, в такива мигове след затварянето на подобна последна корица обичам живота хиляда пъти по-силно, отколкото в обикновен ден (а за мен всеки ден неизменно таи обещания за магичност и винаги го живея като да е най-страхотният в живота ми).
PS. Умозамайващ превод на Магдалена Атанасова.
[и малко повече от допустимите печатни(?) грешки за качеството на „Аквариус“, но случва се...]
irisofthevalley's review
5.0
It doesn't really happen often that I read something that I was required to read for school more than once. I really love Bruno Schulz's writing, I haven't yet read all of this stories, but I am definitely going to. One of the best books ever.
mdpenguin's review
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? N/A
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0
Having loved Street of Crocodiles, this was a disappointment. In the former, I felt that the surrealism and absurd hyperbole managed to express the truth of the human experience of the lives of the characters and community being depicted. While there was some of that in Sanatorium, most of it felt less meaningful and more, perhaps, playful or just experimental. Some of it seemed like Schulz playing at Kafka rather than using his own voice. Street was also much more coherent, feeling like a novel made up of episodes in the lives of the family, whereas the stories in Sanatorium don't really feel particularly connected. Some of the stories were good, when when they felt less authentically of Schulz' voice. Most weren't memorable for me, though, and I found that some of it could be a bit tedious at times for me. Though I don't regret reading it or consider it a waste of my time, I'm glad that I read Street of Crocodiles first because I'm not sure that I'd have picked it up if I'd read this one first.