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A review by will___to___flower
All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque
5.0
Never before has a book instilled so much heaviness within my soul. The unflinching wretchedness bore within the Great War, and as one can say in all its meanings and manifolds of these three words: war is hell. We have to realize that the men we no nothing of have names, lives, family, ambitions. And when they fall, that all leaves their bodies. The minds they once had incredible sharpness are now meats and foods for Earth.
We may not know of these men who sacrificed themselves for the terrible name of War, but only we can be responsible enough to hold sympathy to such innocent people. I do not hate the soldiers of yesteryear who had enlisted because of a nations propaganda. I do not hate the young man of whom knew nothing of war, and fell into it through delusions of grandeur offered by our bureaucrats, our oligarchs.
There is a solemnity and peace in the final page of All Quiet that hurts the soul more than I can describe here. It is not human the horrors, the multiplicity of emotions that Paul and his comrades face.
To the solider who hath fallen beneath the earth, forgotten by generations: I weep for you. You knew nothing, and for that you are forgiven.
This is a masterpiece, a work of genius. Remarque, thank you so much, for a perspective as raw and brutal as this has never been captured on written words previously or later.
We may not know of these men who sacrificed themselves for the terrible name of War, but only we can be responsible enough to hold sympathy to such innocent people. I do not hate the soldiers of yesteryear who had enlisted because of a nations propaganda. I do not hate the young man of whom knew nothing of war, and fell into it through delusions of grandeur offered by our bureaucrats, our oligarchs.
There is a solemnity and peace in the final page of All Quiet that hurts the soul more than I can describe here. It is not human the horrors, the multiplicity of emotions that Paul and his comrades face.
To the solider who hath fallen beneath the earth, forgotten by generations: I weep for you. You knew nothing, and for that you are forgiven.
This is a masterpiece, a work of genius. Remarque, thank you so much, for a perspective as raw and brutal as this has never been captured on written words previously or later.