Jordan

Bruna Guedes

Husain Kothari

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Uendi Prifti

Abdul Hasib

Loughlin Sullivan

Delaney Knopp

Auriel W

Blake Molmen

Dani Shahar

Luis Javier Campos nieto

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (originally "The Rime of the Ancyent Marinere") is the longest major poem by the English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, written in 1797–98 and published in 1798 in the first edition of Lyrical Ballads. Modern editions use a later revised version printed in 1817 and featuring a gloss. Along with other poems in Lyrical Ballads, it was a signal shift to modern poetry and the beginning of British Romantic literature.It relates the events experienced by a mariner who has returned from a long sea voyage. The Mariner stops a man on his way to a wedding ceremony and begins to narrate a story. The Wedding-Guest's reaction turns from bemusement to impatience, fear, and fascination as the Mariner's story progresses, as can be seen in the language style: for example, the use of narrative techniques such as personification and repetition to create a sense of danger, or the supernatural, or serenity, depending on the mood each different part of the poem.

هذه المناظرة ما بين الترجمتينتعطينا فكرة واضحة عن قدرتنا المتخاذلة في الترجمة!وتظل القارب السكران واحدة من أفضل وأعمق القطع الشعرية في كل العصور--------حينَما كُنْتُ نازِلاً في الأَنهارِ السّاكِنَة،‎ لَمْ أَعُدْ أَسْتَشْعِرُني مُنْقادًا بِصَخَبِ المَلاّحين،‎ حُمْرُ الجُلود مُصَيّحون، قَدْ اتّخَذوهُم أَهْدافا،‎ وسَمّروهُمْ عُراةً على الصّواري المُلَوّنَة‎. ‎*** لَقد كُنْتُ غَيْرَ مُبالٍ بِجميعِ الطّاقَم،‎ حمّالٌ لِلْقَمْحِ "الفْلاماني" أو لِلْقُطْنِ الإنْجليزي،‏‎ حينَ انْتَهَتْ مَعَ صَخَبِ المَلاّحينَ هَذه الضّوْضاء،‎ تَرَكَتْني الأَنْهارُ أَنْ أَنْزِلَ حَيْثُما أَشاء‎. ‎*** في بَقْبَقاتِ المَرِيّاتِ الحانِقَة،‎ أَنا، الشّتاء الآخَر كُنْتُ أَكثَر طَرَشًا مِن أَدْمِغَةِ الأَطْفال،‎ جَرَيْتُ والقارّاتُ المُنْدَفِعَة،‎ لمْ تَتَحَمّل تَخَبّطاتٍ أَكْثَرَ مِنّي انْتِصارا‎. ‎*** لقَدْ بارَكَتِ العاصِفَةُ تَطَلُّعاتي البَحْرِيّة،‎ وأَكْثَرَ خِفَّةً مِن سَدّادَةِ فِلّين رَقَصْتُ على اليّمّ،‎ هذا المُسَمّى بِالمُداهِنِ الأَبَديّ للضّحايا،‎ عَشْر لَيالٍ بِدون حَسْرَة على عَيْنِ الفَوانيسِ البَلْهاء‎. ‎*** وكَما هِي أَشَدّ عُذوبَةً على الأَطْفالِ حُموضَة لَحْمَةِ التُّفّاح،‎ اخْتَرَقَتِ المِياهُ الخَضْراءُ هَيْكَلي الصّنَوْبَري،‎ ومِنْ بُقَعِ قَيْئٍ وخُمورٍ زَرْقاء،‎ غَسَلَتْني مُشَتِّتَةً دفّةَ المَرْكَبِ ومَراسيه‎. ‎*** ومِنْ وَقْتِها اسْتَحْمَمْتُ في قَصيَدةِ،‎ البَحْرِ الحَليبيّ، المُنَقّعِ بِالأَفْلاك،‎ مُفْتَرٍسًا اللاّزَوَرْدَ الأَخْضَرَ، حَيثُ الغَطَسُ المُمْتَقِع،‎ وحَيْثُ مُبْتَهِجًا، غَريقٌ مُتَفَكِّرٌ يَنْزِلُ أَحْيانًا‎. ‎*** حَيثُ صابِغًا للزُّرُقاتِ فَجْأَةً، هَذياناتٌ،‎ وإيقاعاتٌ بَطيئَة تَحْتَ لَمَعاناتِ الصّباح،‎ أكْثَرَ قُوّةً مِنَ الكُحولِ وأَكْثَرَ رَحابَةً مِنْ مَزاهِرِنا،‎ تَخْتَمِرُ صُهْبَةُ الحُبِّ المَريرَة‎ ! ‎*** أعْرِفُ السَماواتِ المُتَصَدِّعَةَ باِلبُروق، وأعْمِدَةِ الماء،‎ واصْطِداماتِ الأَمْواجِ بِالحَواجِزِ والتّيارات، أَعْرِفُ المَساء،‎ والفَجْرَ المُتَحَمِّس كَشَعْبٍ مِنَ اليَمام،‎ ورَأَيْتُ في بَعْضِ الأَحْيانِ، ما اعْتَقَدَ المَرْءُ رُؤْيَتَه‎ ! ‎*** رَأَيْتُ الشّمْسَ في المُنْحَدَرِ مُلَطّخَةً بِفظاعاتٍ روحانِيّة،‎ مُزَيِّنَةً باِلأنْوارِ لِنِثاراتٍ بَنَفْسَجِيّة طَويلَة،‏‎ ومِثْل مُمَثِّلين لِمآسي جِدّ عَتيقَة،‎ كانَتْ كُثَلُ المَوْجِ تَسوقُ إلى البَعيدِ اِرْتِعاشاتُ مَصارِعِها‎ ! ‎ ‎*** حَلمْتُ اللّيْلَةَ خَضْراءَ بِثُلوجٍ مُبْهِرَة،‎ بالقُبْلَةِ صاعِدَةً إلى عُيونِ البِحارِ، بِتَثاقُلات،‎ بِسَريانِ النّسُغِ الخارِقَة لِعادَةِ السّمْع،‎ وباليَقَظَةِ الصّفْراءَ والزّرْقاءَ لِلْفُسفوراتِ المُغَنّيَة‎ ! ‎*** ولقَدْ تَتَبّعْتُ أَشْهُرًا بِكامِلِها، أَشْبَهَ بِمَرابي البَقَر،‎ الهِسْتيرِيّة، الأَمْواجَ الصّاخِبَةَ وهيَ تَنْقَضُّ على حَشَفَةِ الصُّخور،‎ ولمْ يَخْطُر بِبالي بِأَنّ أَقْدامَ "المَرْيَمات" المُشِعّة،‎ بِقادِرَة على قَهْرِ مِشْفَر المُحيطاتِ اللاّهِثَة‎ ! ‎*** ولَقَد اِصْطَدَمْتُ، لَوْ تَعلَمون، ب"فْلوريدات" عَجيبَة،‎ مازِجَةً بالزّهورِ عُيونَ فُهودٍ ذاتَ جُلودٍ،‎ بَشَرِيّة ! أقْواسُ قُزَحٍ مَشْدودَة مِثلَ أعِنّة،‎ تَحْتَ أُفُقِ البِحارِ،إلى قِطْعانٍ خَضْراء‎ ! ‎*** ولقَدْ رَأَيْتُ اِخْتِمارَ"مارياتٍ" ضَخْمَة، شِباك،‎ حَيْثُ يَتَعَفّنُ في أَغْصانِ الأَسَلِ وَحْشًا هائِلا بِكامِلِه‎ ! انْهِياراتٌ مائِيَةٌ في وَسَطِ بِحارٍ هادِئَة،‎ والبَعيدَة مِنْها، نَحْوَ دَرَكاتٍ شَلاّلِيَة‎ ! ‎*** قِبَبٌ جَليد، شُموسٌ مِنْ فِضّة، كُثَلُ أَمْواجٍ صَدَفِيّة،‎ وسَماواتٌ مِن جَمْر‎ !] اِنْجِرافٌ شَنيعٌ في أَعْماقِ الخِلْجانِ السّمْراء،‎ حَيْث الحَيّاتُ العِمْلاقَة، مُفْتَرَسَةً بِالبّقّ،‎ تَساقَطُ مِنْ أَشْجارٍ مَلْوِيّةٍ مَعَ عُطورٍ سَوْداء‎ ! ‎*** كُنْتُ أَوَدُّ أَن أورِيَ لِلأَطْفالِ هَذه "الدّورادات‎"‎،‎ مِنَ اليَمِّ الأَزْرَقِ، هَذه الأسْماكُ الذَّهَبِيّةُ، هَذِه المُغَنِّية،‎ ‎- ‎رَغوَةُ الوُرودِ قد هَدْهَدَت اِنْجِرافاتي،‎ ورياحٌ فائِقَةٌ لِلْوَصْفِ قَد جَنّحَتْني لِلَحَظات‎. ‎*** أَحْيانًا كَشهيدٍ، مُتْعَبٍ مِنَ الأَقْطابِ والمَناطِق،‏‎ البَحْرُ الذي مِنْ نَحيبِهِ كان يَجْعَلُ لي تَهَدْهُدي الوَديع،‎ تَصاعَدُ مِنْهُ نَحوي وُرودُ ظِلالٍ ذاتَ مَصّاصاتٍ صَفْراء،‎ وكُنْتُ أَظَلُّ كَذلِكَ كامْرَأَةٍ على رُكْبَتَيْها‎ ... ‎*** شِبْه جَزيرَةٍ مُتقاذِفَةً لِلْخُصوماتِ على شُطوطي،‎ وذُرقُ الطّيورِ المُزّعّقَة ذات العُيونِ الشّقْراء،‎ وكُنْتُ مُبْحِرًا، حينَ عَبْرَ رِباطاتي الواهِيَة،‎ غَرْقى نَزَلوا لِلنَّوْمِ، مُتَراجِعينَ إلى الوَراء‎ !... ‎*** لكِنّي أنا، مَرْكَبٌ مَفْقودٌ تَحتَ شَعَرِ عُرى سِلالِ صَيْدٍ عَتيقَة،‎ مَقْذوفًا بِالإعْصارِ في أثيرِ لا طَيْرَ فيه،‎ أنا، بِكِلتَيْهما "المونيتورات" وسُفُنُ "الهانْزْ" الشّراعِيّة،‎ لَم تَكُن لِتَنْتَشِلَ الهَيْكَلَ السّكْرانَ بِالماء‎. ‎*** حُرّا، مُدَخِّنًا، تَعْلوني ضَباباتٌ أُرْجُوانِيّة كَثيفَة،‎ أنا مَنْ كان يَثْقُبُ السّماءَ المُحْمَرّة مِثلَ جِدار،‎ مَنْ يَحْمِلُ مُرَبّى شهي للشّعَراء المُحْسِنين،‎ طَحْلَبُ الشّمْسِ ومَخاطاتُ اللاّزَوَرْد‎. ‎*** مَن كانَ يَعْدو، مُلَطّخا بِأَهِلّة كَهْرُبائِيّة،‎ خَشَبَةً مَجْنونَةً، تُواكِبُها حُصُن البَحْرِ السّوْداء،‎ حينَما كانَتْ "التّمّوزات" تُجَرِّفُ بِضَرباتِ الدّبابيس،‎ السَماوات الما وَراءَ بَحْرِيّة ذات القُموعِ المُتَأَجِّجَة‎. ‎*** أنا الذي كانَ يَرْتَعِدُ، حاسًّا، على خَمْسينَ فَرْسَخًا، بِنَحيبِ،‎ تَناسُلِ "البهيموتاتِ" البَحْرِيّة والزّوابِعَ الكَثيفَةَ، الجّبّارة،‎ وكغازِلٍ أَبَدِيّ للسّكونِ الأِزْرَق،‎ أتَحَسّرُ على أوربا ذات الحَواجِزَ القَديمَة‎ ! ‎*** رَأَيْتُ أرْخَبيلاتٍ كَوْكَبِيّة ! وجُزُر،‎ ذات سَماواتٍ هاذِيَة مَفْتوحَةً لِلْمُبْحِر،‎ ‎- ‎أ في هذه اللّيالي بِلا عُمْقٍ تَنامُ وتَتَغَرّب،‎ يا مليونَ طائِرٍ ذَهَبِيّ، ويا أيّتُها الشِّدّةُ المُسْتَقبَلِيّة؟‎ ‎*** لكِنّي، حَقيقَةً، بَكَيْتُ كَثيرًا ! والأَسْحارُ كانَت مُؤْسِفَة،‎ كُلّ قَمَرٍ بَشِع وكُلّ شَمْسٍ مُرّة‎: الحُبُّ الشّرِس قد مَلأَني بِخُدْرَةٍ مُسْكِرَة،‎ آه على حَيْزومي فَلْيَنْفَجِر ! ولأَمْضِيَنّ إلى البَحْر‎ ! ‎*** إذا كُنْتُ أَرْغَبُ في ماءِ أوربا فَفي بُحْرَةِ ماءٍ،‎ أسَوَد وبارِد حَيْث نَحْوَ الغَسقِ المُحَنّط،‎ طِفْلٌ مُتَرَبّعٌ، مَمْلوءٌ بالحُزْن، يُسَرِّحُ،‎ مَرْكَبًا هَشّا شَبيهًا بِفَراشَة أيار‎. ‎*** لم يَعُد بِمَقدوري، مُسْتَحِمّا بِفُتورِك أيّتُها الشّفرات،‎ أنْ أقْتَفِيَ آثارَ حَملَة القُطْن،‎ ولا عُبورَ مَرَحِ الرّايات و الشُّعَل،‎ ولا السّباحَةَ تَحتَ عُيونِ زَوارِقَ السّجونِ الفَظيعَة‎. ------------As I was going down impassive Rivers,‎I no longer felt myself guided by haulers:‎Yelping redskins had taken them as targetsAnd had nailed them naked to colored stakes.‎‎ ‎I was indifferent to all crews,‎The bearer of Flemish wheat or English cottonsWhen with my haulers this uproar stoppedThe Rivers let me go where I wanted.‎‎ ‎Into the furious lashing of the tidesMore heedless than children's brains the other winter‎I ran! And loosened PeninsulasHave not undergone a more triumphant hubbub‎ ‎The storm blessed my sea vigilsLighter than a cork I danced on the wavesThat are called eternal rollers of victims,‎Ten nights, without missing the stupid eye of the lighthouses!‎‎ ‎Sweeter than the flesh of hard apples is to childrenThe green water penetrated my hull of firAnd washed me of spots of blue wineAnd vomit, scattering rudder and grappling-hook‎ ‎And from then on I bathed in the PoemOf the Sea, infused with stars and lactescent,‎Devouring the azure verses; where, like a pale elatedPiece of flotsam, a pensive drowned figure sometimes sinks;‎‎ ‎Where, suddenly dyeing the blueness, deliriumAnd slow rhythms under the streaking of daylight,‎Stronger than alcohol, vaster than our lyres,‎The bitter redness of love ferments!‎‎ ‎I know the skies bursting with lightning, and the waterspoutsAnd the surf and the currents; I know the evening,‎And dawn as exalted as a flock of dovesAnd at times I have seen what man thought he saw!‎‎ ‎I have seen the low sun spotted with mystic horrors,‎Lighting up, with long violet clots,‎Resembling actors of very ancient dramas,‎The waves rolling far off their quivering of shutters!‎‎ ‎I have dreamed of the green night with dazzled snowsA kiss slowly rising to the eyes of the sea,‎The circulation of unknown saps,‎And the yellow and blue awakening of singing phosphorous!‎‎ ‎I followed during pregnant months the swell,‎Like hysterical cows, in its assault on the reefs,‎Without dreaming that the luminous feet of the MarysCould constrain the snout of the wheezing Oceans!‎‎ ‎I struck against, you know, unbelievable FloridasMingling with flowers panthers' eyes and humanSkin! Rainbows stretched like bridal reinsUnder the horizon of the seas to greenish herds!‎‎ ‎I have seen enormous swamps ferment, fish-trapsWhere a whole Leviathan rots in the rushes!‎Avalanches of water in the midst of a calm,‎And the distances cataracting toward the abyss!‎‎ ‎Glaciers, suns of silver, nacreous waves, skies of embers!‎Hideous strands at the end of brown gulfsWhere giant serpents devoured by bedbugsFall down from gnarled trees with black scent!‎‎ ‎I should have liked to show children those sunfishOf the blue wave, the fish of gold, the singing fish.‎‎—Foam of flowers rocked my driftingAnd ineffable winds winged me at times.‎‎ ‎At times a martyr weary of poles and zones,‎The sea, whose sob created my gentle roll,‎Brought up to me her dark flowers with yellow suckersAnd I remained, like a woman on her knees...‎‎ ‎Resembling an island tossing on my sides the quarrelsAnd droppings of noisy birds with yellow eyesAnd I sailed on, when through my fragile ropesDrowned men sank backward to sleep!‎‎ ‎Now I, a boat lost in the foliage of caves,‎Thrown by the storm into the birdless airI whose water-drunk carcass would not have been rescuedBy the Monitors and the Hanseatic sailboats;‎‎ ‎Free, smoking, topped with violet fog,‎I who pierced the reddening sky like a wall,‎Bearing, delicious jam for good poetsLichens of sunlight and mucus of azure,‎‎ ‎Who ran, spotted with small electric moons,‎A wild plank, escorted by black seahorses,‎When Julys beat down with blows of cudgelsThe ultramarine skies with burning funnels;‎‎ ‎I, who trembled, hearing at fifty leagues offThe moaning of the Behemoths in heat and the thick Maelstroms,‎Eternal spinner of the blue immobilityI miss Europe with its ancient parapets!‎‎ ‎I have seen sidereal archipelagos! and islandsWhose delirious skies are open to the sea-wanderer:‎‎—Is it in these bottomless nights that you sleep and exile yourself,‎Million golden birds, o future Vigor? –‎‎ ‎But, in truth, I have wept too much! Dawns are heartbreaking.‎Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.‎Acrid love has swollen me with intoxicating torporO let my keel burst! O let me go into the sea!‎‎ ‎If I want a water of Europe, it is the blackCold puddle where in the sweet-smelling twilightA squatting child full of sadness releasesA boat as fragile as a May butterfly.‎‎ ‎No longer can I, bathed in your languor, o waves,‎Follow in the wake of the cotton boats,‎Nor cross through the pride of flags and flames,‎Nor swim under the terrible eyes of prison ships.

'To burn always with this hard gemlike flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life.'The Renaissance (1873) at once became the touchstone for the decadent imagination for a generation of Oxford undergraduates. Pater was shocked at the reaction his book inspired: 'I wish they would not call me a hedonist, it gives such a wrong impression to those who do not know Greek.'.The book had begun as a series of idiosyncratic, impressionistic critical essays on those artists that embodied for him the spirit of the Renaissance; by collecting them and adding his infamous Conclusion, Pater gained a reputation as a daring modern philosopher. But The Renaissance survives as one of the most innovative pieces of cultural criticism to emerge from the nineteenth century.

Le Journal d'un homme de trop (Dnevnik Lishnego Cheloveka) est une longue nouvelle d'Ivan Tourgueniev parue en 1850. Le recit, livre sous la forme d'un journal tenu a la premiere personne par Tchoulkatourine, qui se surnomme lui-meme l'homme de trop, est un satire si cinglante de la societe russe que plusieurs passages furent censures lors de la publication en volume de la nouvelle en 1860. L' uvre definit l'archetype de l'homme de trop, personnage emblematique de la litterature russe, notamment chez Dostoievski dans L'Eternel Mari et Le Joueur."

Недавно перечитал и переосмыслил. Как пишет сам поэт в Предисловии, Печорин - собирательный образ скучающего бездельника, среднестатистический молодой русский барин начала XIX века. А я-то в школе почему-то верил, что Григорий Саныч - действительно герой, и мне в голову не приходило, что это серьёзное пафосное слово было употреблено в ироничном смысле. А этот "герой", болеющий англицкой хандрой, развлекает себя тем, что губит других людей: то Бэлу погубил ради минутного увлечения, то мирок контрабандистов потревожил, то Грушницкого убил пулей в лоб, хотя мог пощадить, показав милосердие, то Вуличу смерть накаркал. Лишний человек, одним словом. Не много ли нас таких!

Death and the Dervish is an acclaimed novel by Bosnian writer Mesa Selimovic. It recounts the story of Sheikh Nuruddin, a dervish residing in an Islamic monastery in Sarajevo in the eighteenth century during the Ottoman Turk hegemony over the Balkans. When his brother is arrested, he must descend into the Kafkaesque world of the Ottoman authorities in his search to discover what happened to him. He narrates his story in the form of an elaborate suicide note, regularly misquoting the Koran. In time, he begins to question his relations with society as a whole and, eventually, his life choices in general. Hugely successful when published in the 1960s, Death and the Dervish is an enduring classic that was made into a feature length film in 1974.

It is a simple tale, on the surface. Akaky Akakievich (literally "Harmless Son-of-Harmless," but which might sound like "Poopy Pooperson” to a child), an impoverished civil servant and scrivener, must maintain his respectability by possessing a decent overcoat. How he gains a new overcoat, loses that overcoat, and seeks to have the overcoat restored to him constitutes the whole of our story. Dostoevsky has been quoted as saying, “We all come from under Gogol's Overcoat", and it is true that much of Russian literature can be glimpsed in this single short story: it is a satire ranging from buffonery to social commentary, a realist work rooted in naturalistic detail that sometimes descends to the grotesque and the surreal, and yet remains compassionate, maintaining its sympathy for all of us humans and our tragic and ludicrous plight. Not bad for a story slightly more than twelve thousand words in length.Which brings us to the distinctive characteristic of Gogol: he is a literary conjurer, with an extraordinary ability to shift from tone to tone. The Overcoat begins in low comedy, making fun of its character's name, then describes his shabby living conditions until we begin to see the dead flies and smell the onions. Gogol ridicules his protagonist's rigidity and pomposity, but then—when some younger clerks make fun of him—Gogol shifts his tone again until we grow to regard Akaky with an abiding compassion. From there, Gogol sharpens his social satire, tempering it with a comedy touched with pathos, and ends—not in tragedy, as we suspect it might, but—in nightmare and the supernatural.We'll let Nabokov have the last word. “[W]ith Gogol this shifting is the very basis of his art... When, as in the immortal The Overcoat, he really let himself go and pottered on the brink of his private abyss, he became the greatest artist that Russia has yet produced.”

In Strindberg’s A Dream Play, written in 1901, characters merge into each other, locations change in an instant and a locked door becomes an obsessively recurrent image. As Strindberg himself wrote in his Preface, he wanted “to imitate the disjointed yet seemingly logical shape of a dream. Everything can happen, everything is possible and probable. Time and place do not exist.”Caryl Churchill’s spare and resonant new version was first staged at the National Theatre, London, in a production by Katie Mitchell, where A Dream Play was called “fresh, new and magical” (Telegraph).Caryl Churchill has written for the stage, television and radio. A renowned and prolific playwright, her plays include Cloud Nine, Top Girls, Far Away, Drunk Enough to Say I Love You?, Bliss, Love and Information, Mad Forest and A Number. In 2002, she received the Obie Lifetime Achievement Award and 2010, she was inducted into the American Theater Hall of Fame.August Strindberg (1849-1912) was a novelist and playwright from Stockholm, Sweden. His plays include Miss Julie, The Father, To Damascus, A Dream Play, and The Pelican. In 1912 Strindberg's birthday was marked by a torchlight procession through Stockholm, where his radical journalism had earned him the title of ‘people’s writer.’

A Methuen Student Edition of Chekhov's classic play in Michael Frayn's acclaimed translation.When it first opened in St Petersburg in 1896, The Seagull survived only five performances after a disastrous first opening night. Two years later it was revived by Nemirovich-Danchenko at the newly-founded Moscow Art Theatre with Stanslasky as Trigorin and was an immediate success. Checkhov's description of the play was characteristically self-mocking: "A comedy - 3F, 6M, four acts, rural scenery (a view over a lake); much talk of literature, little action, five bushels of love".Michael Frayn's translation was commissioned by the Oxford Playhouse Company.

هو الحليم اذا غضب.. هو البعير اذا هلكالعم فانيا سيجعلك تتساءل :هل للطحالب جذور؟هل هناك ما يحول*السلبيين* لقوى محركة؟مع تشيكوف لن تجد ندابون و لا أبطاللا اصباغ و لا مكياج . .فقط مجموعة من المبهمين ممن سيجبرك تشيكوف على التعاطف معهم في مسرحية عرضت في اخر ايام القرن 19بروفيسور متقاعد متباهي مغرور عاد مع زوجته الشابة لضيعته التي ورثها من زوجته الأولى..و لاعوام طويلة ظل العم فانيا شقيق زوجته المتوفاة؛ يرسل له إيراد المزرعة و يكتفى براتب صغير البروفيسور البغيض يستدعي طبيب بشري يائس "استروف " ليعالج عنزته!!!؟

Het is bijzonder verheugend dat naast het prozawerk van de Zweedse schrijver August Strindberg nu een deel van zijn dramatisch oeuvre, gedeeltelijk voor het eerst in vertaling is verschenen. Het betreft tien eenacters, ontstaan tussen 1888 en 1892, waaronder het beroemde stuk "Freule Julie". Ze werden in het seizoen 1984/85 met groot succes ten tonele gebracht door de theatergroep Persona. De uitgave wordt voorafgegaan door een uitstekende algemene inleiding over leven en werken van Strindberg (10 blz.) en over de eenacters zelf (ruim 6 blz.). Het theaterhistorisch zeer belangrijke voorwoord bij "Freule Julie" van 1888 is tevens opgenomen. In de vertalingen zijn de nieuwste tekstgegevens verwerkt uit de verzamelde werken die in Zweden bezig zijn te verschijnen. Op een na zijn de vertalingen van Karst Woudstra. De uitgave is nogal slordig gecorrigeerd. Deze bundel mag in geen bibliotheek ontbreken.

La nouvelle se presente sous la forme d'un journal intime, tenu par le heros principal, Poprichtchine. Dans un premier temps, celui-ci decrit des episodes de sa vie, de son travail ainsi que les diverses personnes qu'il cotoie. Puis il se met a confier les sentiments qu'il eprouve au sujet de la fille de son directeur. Des premiers signes de folie ne tardent pas a apparaitre: le heros espionne discretement les discussions de Medji, la chienne de cette fille. Il finit par mettre la main sur des lettres que Medji a ecrites a une autre chienne."

The last book published during Kafka's lifetime, A Hunger Artist (1924) explores many of the themes that were close to him: spiritual poverty, asceticism, futility, and the alienation of the modern artist. He edited the manuscript just before his death, and these four stories are some of his best known and most powerful work, marking his maturity as a writer. In addition to "First Sorrow," "A Little Woman," and "Josephine the Singer, or the Mouse People" is the title story, "A Hunger Artist," which has been called by the critic Heinz Politzer "a perfection, a fatal fulfillment that expresses Kafka's desire for permanence." The three volumes Twisted Spoon Press has published: Contemplation, A Country Doctor, and A Hunger Artist are the collections of stories that Kafka had published during his lifetime. Though each volume has its own distinctive character, they have most often appeared in English in collected editions. They are presented here as separate editions, in new translations by Kevin Blahut, each with its own illustrator from the Prague community.

Andrew George's "masterly new translation" (The Times) of the world's first truly great work of literatureMiraculously preserved on clay tablets dating back as much as four thousand years, the poem of Gilgamesh, king of Uruk, is the world’s oldest epic, predating Homer by many centuries. The story tells of Gilgamesh’s adventures with the wild man Enkidu, and of his arduous journey to the ends of the earth in quest of the Babylonian Noah and the secret of immortality. Alongside its themes of family, friendship and the duties of kings, the Epic of Gilgamesh is, above all, about mankind’s eternal struggle with the fear of death.The Babylonian version has been known for over a century, but linguists are still deciphering new fragments in Akkadian and Sumerian. Andrew George’s gripping translation brilliantly combines these into a fluent narrative and will long rank as the definitive English Gilgamesh.For more than seventy years, Penguin has been the leading publisher of classic literature in the English-speaking world. With more than 1,700 titles, Penguin Classics represents a global bookshelf of the best works throughout history and across genres and disciplines. Readers trust the series to provide authoritative texts enhanced by introductions and notes by distinguished scholars and contemporary authors, as well as up-to-date translations by award-winning translators.

'He now saw himself stained with the most loathed and monstrous sins, the object of universal execration ... doomed to perish in tortures the most severe'Shocking, erotic and violent, The Monk is the story of Ambrosio, torn between his spiritual vows and the temptations of physical pleasure. His internal battle leads to sexual obsession, rape and murder, yet this book also contains knowing parody of its own excesses as well as social comedy. Written by Matthew Lewis when he was only nineteen, it was a ground-breaking novel in the Gothic Horror genre and spawned hundreds of imitators, drawn in by its mixture of bloodshed, sex and scandal.

Set in early eighteenth-century Scotland, the novel recounts the corruption of a boy of strict Calvinist parentage by a mysterious stranger under whose influence he commits a series of murders. The stranger assures the boy that no sin can affect the salvation of an elect person. The reader, while recognizing the stranger as Satan, is prevented by the subtlety of the novel's structure from finally deciding whether, for all his vividness and wit, he is more than a figment of the boy's imagination. This edition reprints the text of the unexpurgated first edition of 1824, later 'corrected' in an attempt to placate the Calvinists.

Already famous as the inspiration for the filmmaker Béla Tarr’s six-hour masterpiece, Satantango is proof that “the devil has all the good times.” The story of Satantango, spread over a couple of days of endless rain, focuses on the dozen remaining inhabitants of an unnamed isolated hamlet: failures stuck in the middle of nowhere. Schemes, crimes, infidelities, hopes of escape, and above all trust and its constant betrayal are Krasznahorkai’s meat. “At the center of Satantango,” George Szirtes has said, “is the eponymous drunken dance, referred to here sometimes as a tango and sometimes as a csardas. It takes place at the local inn where everyone is drunk. . . . Their world is rough and ready, lost somewhere between the comic and the tragic, in one small insignificant corner of the cosmos. Theirs is the dance of death.” “You know,” Mrs. Schmidt, a pivotal character, tipsily confides, “dance is my one weakness.”

This text is the 16th revised and updated edition of this introduction to art, from the earliest cave paintings to experimental art. Eight new artists from the modern period have been introduced. They are: Corot, Kollwitz, Nolde, de Chirico, Brancussi, Magritte, Nicolson and Morandi. A sequence of new endings have been added, and the captions are now fuller, including the medium and dimension of the works illustrated. Six fold-outs present selected large-scale works. They are: Van Eyck's Ghent Altarpiece, Leonardo's Last Supper, Botticelli's Birth of Venus, Jackson Pollock's One (Number 31, 1950), Van der Weyden's Descent from the Cross and Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel ceiling.

John Berger’s Classic Text on ArtJohn Berger's Ways of Seeing is one of the most stimulating and the most influential books on art in any language. First published in 1972, it was based on the BBC television series about which the (London) Sunday Times critic commented: "This is an eye-opener in more ways than one: by concentrating on how we look at paintings . . . he will almost certainly change the way you look at pictures." By now he has."Berger has the ability to cut right through the mystification of the professional art critics . . . He is a liberator of images: and once we have allowed the paintings to work on us directly, we are in a much better position to make a meaningful evaluation" —Peter Fuller, Arts Review"The influence of the series and the book . . . was enormous . . . It opened up for general attention to areas of cultural study that are now commonplace" —Geoff Dyer in Ways of TellingWinner of the 1972 Booker Prize for his novel, G., John Peter Berger (born November 5th, 1926) is an art critic, painter and author of many novels including A Painter of Our Time, From A to X and Bento’s Sketchbook.

A successful mod photographer in London whose world is bounded by fashion, pop music, marijuana, and easy sex, feels his life is boring and despairing. Then he meets a mysterious beauty, and also notices something frightfully suspicious on one of his photographs of her taken in a park. The fact that he may have photographed a murder does not occur to him until he studies and then blows up his negatives, uncovering details, blowing up smaller and smaller elements, and finally putting the puzzle together.

1966 British-Italian film directed by Michelangelo Antonioni

Anna, a detached and diffident director, arrives in Germany to show her latest film; she checks into a hotel, invites a stranger to her bed, and abruptly tells him to leave. He asks her to a birthday lunch with his mother and daughter; she goes. Afterward, in Cologne, she meets an old friend, a Polish Jew and war refugee. In Brussels, she spends the night at a hotel with her mother, whom she rarely sees. On the train, a stranger tells his story. Last, it's home to Paris, where her lover Daniel picks her up and they go to a hotel. Throughout, people make personal revelations to her, and Anna listens with little affect. Although it was 30 years ago, the war seems ever present.

Joseph and Maria Tura operate and star in their own theater company in Warsaw. Maria has many admirers including a young lieutenant in the Polish air force, Stanislav Sobinski. When the Nazis invade Poland to start World War II, Sobinski and his colleagues flee to England while the Turas find themselves now having to operate under severe restrictions, including shelving a comical play they had written about Adolf Hitler. In England meanwhile, Sobinski and his friends give Professor Siletski - who is about to return to Poland - the names and addresses of their closest relatives so the professor can carry messages for them. When it's learned that Siletski is really a German spy, Sobinski parachutes into Poland and enlists the aid of the Turas and their fellow actors to get that list back.

Sisif, a railwayman, and his son Elie fall in love with the beautiful Norma (who Sisif rescued from a train crash when a baby and raised as his daughter), with tragic results. Originally running nine hours, this epic tragedy is notable for the way it foreshadows Gance's later 'Napoleon' in its use of innovative cinematic devices, particularly rapid cutting.

When Viktor meets Gizella one day beside the lake, he takes an interest in her and begins to call on her regularly. The one passion in the life of Gizella, who is unable to speak, is dancing. When Viktor deceives her and she finds him with another woman, she moves away and begins a career as a ballerina. Later, as she is on tour performing "The Dying Swan", the artist Glinskiy attends her performance. Glinskiy, whose own obsession is to depict death in his art, becomes fascinated by Gizella, and he is determined to use her as a model for a special project.

In a religious rural community in the 1950s, Ritva, a young woman has kept her pregnancy a secret. Helped by her sister, she gives birth but soon abandons the baby. The next day the infant is brought to the hospital where Ritva works. Troubled with shame, Ritva finds consolation from a dying priest.

Young sailor Juhani returns to his childhood home, an abandoned farm in the Finnish countryside. He takes his old senile father out of the local nursing home and brings him back to see the farm once more. Haunted by a dark secret since his childhood, Juhani wants to settle accounts with his father and lay to rest the ghosts of the past. But in the desolate village he meets a young woman with a child and finds a possibility for a new life.

A visual poem based on a story by Nobel laureate F.E. Sillanpää. The fates of various characters become interlaced over a long and light-filled summer night in the Finnish countryside. Lumberjacks, a deer-eyed young man Nokia, a family of poor farmers, a young girl and her lover... New life is born, old life dies, man is slain in his prime, and his widow continues her life.

1948 Finnish film directed by Valentin Vaala

Twin sisters Helena and Irene are born in Helsinki during World War II. A few months later their mother Sirkka leaves the girls in the care of their grandmother, an old Communist, and runs away with a German soldier. Their life under the protection of their grandmother and the teachings of communism ends first with the death of Stalin, then with that of their grandmother. The girls are eight years old when they are put in an orphanage. Their mother shows up at the orphanage in the company of Ramon, a Spanish trapeze artist. They are on a talent search for a German circus. Ramon trains the reluctant Irene during circus tours in Central Europe, and she becomes the trapeze star of the circus. The hard work soon exhausts Irene and she falls from heights, as if on purpose. Helena has secretly learned the art of fire-eating. Now she is burdened with both her mother and her sister. The violent life, however, separates the three from one another. In present-day Helsinki, middle-aged Helena has looked into her past, ceased to hate, and now, for the first time in her life, voluntarily accepts responsibility for another human being.

1998 Finnish film directed by Pirjo Honkasalo

Marie Latour, a woman of limited schooling, raises two children in a ratty flat during World War II in occupied France. In 1941, her husband Paul returns from German captivity, too weak to hold a job. Marie discovers she can make money performing abortions, using a soapy water douche. Many of her clients are knocked up by occupying Germans. She buys better food and clothes, looks for a new flat, and, through an acquaintance, who is a prostitute, rents out her bedrooms to hookers during the day. She's indifferent to Paul; his humiliations grow as does her income. She hopes to be a singer. Male Vichy umbrage and moral hypocrisy may upend her. What is she thinking?

An adaptation of Proust's "La Prisoniere" (book five of "Remembrance of Things Past"). Set in Paris, France, it is a serious tale of a tragic and dysfunctional love.

Poetical tale of Anne-Marie Stretter, the wife of a French diplomat in India in the 1930s. At 18 she had married a French colonial administrator and went with him on posting to Savannakhet, Laos. There she met her second husband who took her away and for 17 years they lived in various locations in Asia. Now in Calcutta, she takes lovers to relieve the boredom in her life. Told in a highly visual style with little dialogue but a constant voice-over narrative by the different characters.

Debauched King Henry II (Peter O'Toole) installs his longtime court facilitator Thomas Becket (Richard Burton) as the Archbishop of Canterbury, assuming that his old friend will be a compliant and loyal lackey in the King's on-going battles with the church. But Becket unexpectedly finds his true calling on the ecclesiastical side, and aligns himself against the King's selfish wishes, causing a rift and an eventual showdown not only between the two men, but also the institutions they represent.

A massive six-hour biopic of Napoleon, tracing his career from his schooldays (where a snowball fight is staged like a military campaign), his flight from Corsica, through the French Revolution (where a real storm is intercut with a political storm) and the Terror, culminating in his triumphant invasion of Italy in 1797 (the film stops there because it was intended to be part one of six, but director Abel Gance never raised the money to make the other five). The film's legendary reputation is due to the astonishing range of techniques that Gance uses to tell his story, culminating in the final twenty-minute triptych sequence, which alternates widescreen panoramas with complex multiple- image montages projected simultaneously on three screens.

French historical film by Abel Gance released in 1927

At a boarding school in the pre-war Austro-Hungarian Empire, a pair of students torture one of their fellow classmates, Basini, who has been caught stealing money from one of the two. The two decide that rather than turn Basini in to the school authorities, they will punish him themselves and proceed to torture, degrade, and humiliate the boy, with ever-increasing sadistic delight. As each day passes, the two boys are able to justify harsher treatment than previously given. Torless is a passive member of the group but observes rather than participates and frustrates the tormentors by dryly analyzing their behavior.

A young lieutenant Kiekeritz wants to give some meaning to his life. He starts to collect works of art.

A tale of medieval quest for a golden harp called "the Knight".

One of the most vivid depictions of the horrors of Nazi Concentration Camps. Filmed in 1955 at several concentration camps in Poland, the film combines new color and black and white footage with black and white newsreels, footage shot by the victorious allies, and stills, to tell the story not only of the camps, but to portray the horror of man's brutal inhumanity.

Allan Gray arrives late in the evening to a secluded riverside inn in the hamlet of Courtempierre. An old man enters his room, puts a sealed parcel on the table, blurts out that some woman mustn't die, and disappears. Gray senses in this a call for help. He puts the parcel in his pocket, and goes out. Eerie shadows lead him into an old house, where he encounters a weird village doctor. The doctor receives a bottle of poison from a strange, old woman. Through the window of an old castle Gray recognizes the old man from the inn. A shadow shoots the man, who drops dead. Inside the house Gray finds his two daughters, Gisèle and Léone, and some servants. He opens the parcel, and finds an old book about vampires. Léone is seriously ill after being bitten by a vampire. Instead of helping her, the village doctor places the bottle of poison at her bedside table, and then abducts her sister Gisèle. An old servant starts reading the old book, and finds out that the vampire in Courtempierre is a dead woman called Marguerite Chopin. He goes to the cemetery, opens her grave and strikes a thick iron stick through her body. The curse is broken, Léone recovers, Gray liberates Giséle.

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