 Your new post is loading...
Your new post is loading...
Vuonna 2012 kirjoitin tässä blogissa Stefan Zweigista. Nyt näkee tekijänoikeuslain erään nurinkurisen vaikutuksen. Kirjailija oli jokseenkin unohdettu. Nyt hänen teoksiaan on eri laitoksina ja eri kielillä ostettavissa ainakin sata. Tekijänoikeus näet vanhentui; Zweig pani pisteen tuotannolleen ja elämälleen ampumalla itsensä Brasiliassa 1942.
Stefan Zweig was the most translated author in the world, yet Michael Hofmann has called the Austrian's literary output 'just putrid'. A tad harsh, perhaps, but he has a point
Stefan Zweig (1881–1942) was born to a prosperous Jewish family in Vienna, Austria. During World War I, he wrote the influential anti-war tragedy Jeremias. This 1917 work was an unsparing indictment of an insane war. A prolific author, Zweig wrote essays and plays, but it was his biographies of historical and cultural figures that made him one of the most popular writers of the interwar period. His fame also rested on a series of psychological short stories and novels. Zweig was a generally apolitical man whose writing reflected his sensitivity to man's struggles. The Nazis burned all of his works including Jeremias, for its indictment of war.
A review of The Impossible Exile by George Prochnik. Contemporaries sniped at his success, but for a Jewish novelist in Austria in the 1930s, the possibilities of remaining a comic figure were few
The exiled author killed himself in despair over Nazism. But before he did, he said Brazil had become what he hoped Europe could be, writes Benjamin Ramm.
|
“Every day I learned to love this country more, and I would not have asked to rebuild my life in any other place after the world of my own language sank and was lost to me and my spiritual homeland, Europe, destroyed itself.
AFTER this bleakest of years for Europe, glib talk of the 1930s is in the air. The bonds of trust between nations are fraying, and the old saw that the European Union advances only in times of crisis is being tested to destruction. Populists are on the march. Britain is on the way out. And Europe’s neighbours are either menacing it (Russia) or threatening to flood it with refugees. One hyperventilating Eurocrat recently confided to your columnist that he feared another Franco-German war.
Romain Rolland, one of Stefan Zweig’s many illustrious friends (he seems not to have had any other kind), expressed surprise that he could be a writer and not like cats: ‘Un poète qui n’aime pas les chats!’ It’s only one of an unending series of things – as if the man did not have a shadow – that strike one as being ‘not quite right’ about this popular-again populariser who, like the Kitschmeister Gustav Klimt, is glitteringly and preposterously back in fashion, and neither of them any better than they were the first time round.
Stefan Zweig (/zwaɪɡ, swaɪɡ/;[1] German: [tsvaɪk]; November 28, 1881 – February 22, 1942) was an Austrian novelist, playwright, journalist and biographer. At the height of his literary career, in the 1920s and 1930s, he was one of the most popular writers in the world.[2]
Stefan Zweig oli itävaltalainen kirjailija.
|
Scoop.it!
