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袘械蟹 写芯谐屑邪褌邪
袪芯屑邪薪 胁懈写邪褌薪芯谐芯 锌芯谢褜褋褜泻芯谐芯 锌懈褋褜屑械薪薪懈泻邪 袚械薪褉懈泻邪 小械薪泻械胁懈褔邪 (1846鈥�1916) 薪邪锌懈褋邪薪懈泄 褍 褎芯褉屑褨 褖芯写械薪薪懈泻邪 屑芯谢芯写芯褩 谢褞写懈薪懈 蟹 邪褉懈褋褌芯泻褉邪褌懈褔薪芯褩 褋褨屑鈥櫻�. 袚械褉芯泄 褉芯屑邪薪褍 斜邪谐邪褌懈泄, 芯写械褉卸邪胁 褔褍写芯胁褍 芯褋胁褨褌褍, 胁褨写褉褨蟹薪褟褦褌褜褋褟 薪械邪斜懈褟泻懈屑 褉芯蟹褍屑芯屑, 邪谢械 胁薪褍褌褉褨褕薪褟 褋锌褍褋褌芯褕械薪褨褋褌褜 褋褌芯褩褌褜 薪邪 蟹邪胁邪写褨 蟹邪褋褌芯褋褍胁邪薪薪褞 泄芯谐芯 蟹写褨斜薪芯褋褌械泄. 笑械泄 褏邪褉邪泻褌械褉, 褌邪泻 锌芯胁薪芯 泄 胁褋械斜褨褔薪芯 蟹芯斜褉邪卸械薪懈泄 袚. 小械薪泻械胁懈褔械屑, 袗. 袦. 袚芯褉褜泻懈泄 胁褨写薪芯褋懈胁 写芯 薪邪泄斜褨谢褜褕 褌懈锌芯胁懈褏 芯斜褉邪蟹褨胁 屑芯谢芯写芯褩 谢褞写懈薪懈 胁 褦胁褉芯锌械泄褋褜泻褨泄 谢褨褌械褉邪褌褍褉褨 XIX 褋褌芯谢褨褌褌褟.
382 pages, Unknown Binding
First published January 1, 1891
55 people are currently reading
754 people want to read
About the author
Henryk Sienkiewicz
1,110听books686听followersHenryk Adam Aleksander Pius Sienkiewicz (also known as "Litwos"; May 5, 1846鈥揘ovember 15, 1916) was a Polish journalist and Nobel Prize-winning novelist. He was one of the most popular Polish writers at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, and received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1905 for his "outstanding merits as an epic writer."
Born into an impoverished gentry family in the Podlasie village of Wola Okrzejska, in Russian-ruled Poland, Sienkiewicz wrote historical novels set during the Rzeczpospolita (Polish Republic, or Commonwealth). His works were noted for their negative portrayal of the Teutonic Order in The Teutonic Knights (Krzy偶acy), which was remarkable as a significant portion of his readership lived under German rule. Many of his novels were first serialized in newspapers, and even today are still in print. In Poland, he is best known for his historical novels "With Fire and Sword", "The Deluge", and "Fire in the Steppe" (The Trilogy) set during the 17th-century Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, while internationally he is best known for Quo Vadis, set in Nero's Rome. Quo Vadis has been filmed several times, most notably the 1951 version.
Sienkiewicz was meticulous in attempting to recreate the authenticity of historical language. In his Trilogy, for instance, he had his characters use the Polish language as he imagined it was spoken in the seventeenth century (in reality it was far more similar to 19th-century Polish than he imagined). In The Teutonic Knights, which relates to the Battle of Grunwald in 1410, he even had his characters speak a variety of medieval Polish which he recreated in part from archaic expressions then still common among the highlanders of Podhale.
In 1881, Sienkiewicz married Maria Szetkiewicz (1854-1885). They had two children, Henryk J贸zef (1882-1959) and Jadwiga Maria (1883鈥�1969).
Born into an impoverished gentry family in the Podlasie village of Wola Okrzejska, in Russian-ruled Poland, Sienkiewicz wrote historical novels set during the Rzeczpospolita (Polish Republic, or Commonwealth). His works were noted for their negative portrayal of the Teutonic Order in The Teutonic Knights (Krzy偶acy), which was remarkable as a significant portion of his readership lived under German rule. Many of his novels were first serialized in newspapers, and even today are still in print. In Poland, he is best known for his historical novels "With Fire and Sword", "The Deluge", and "Fire in the Steppe" (The Trilogy) set during the 17th-century Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, while internationally he is best known for Quo Vadis, set in Nero's Rome. Quo Vadis has been filmed several times, most notably the 1951 version.
Sienkiewicz was meticulous in attempting to recreate the authenticity of historical language. In his Trilogy, for instance, he had his characters use the Polish language as he imagined it was spoken in the seventeenth century (in reality it was far more similar to 19th-century Polish than he imagined). In The Teutonic Knights, which relates to the Battle of Grunwald in 1410, he even had his characters speak a variety of medieval Polish which he recreated in part from archaic expressions then still common among the highlanders of Podhale.
In 1881, Sienkiewicz married Maria Szetkiewicz (1854-1885). They had two children, Henryk J贸zef (1882-1959) and Jadwiga Maria (1883鈥�1969).
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June 21, 2020
Enough is enough! With or without Dogma! Hurrah! It鈥檚 over and done, the novel I mean. Surprisingly, I found myself in a rush to finish it. Guess I am changed, too! I have enjoyed it, but I don鈥檛 see myself reading it for a third time. The chief interest is set upon a single character, a so-called hero, that in the silence of his diary, that became his most intimate friend, carries a great battle - of a man for his soul. Still he produces nothing, that is to say, with his own words he is a 鈥済enius without a portfolio鈥�. He is Leon Ploszowski 鈥� an aristocrat by birth, whose character is such that reasonably many of us will find just enough of ourselves to make its weaknesses look distasteful to us. He belongs to our own times, too. His doubts and his dilettanteism are our own. Surely the theme is one and the same: old enough to convey that the strongest and most genuine emotion of his life is his love for a woman (eventually a married woman). Reading it firstly some two decades ago, I recall I was deeply moved by the story of the female character, less for the male character. I mean I couldn鈥檛 care for him at all. The character of the woman stands out in splendid contrast to the man鈥檚: its simplicity, strength, truth and faith (blind even) are the antidote for his doubt and weakness. Her very weakness becomes her strength and her dogmatism saves him.
The novel takes the form of a diary, basically the main character 鈥� feeling himself unworthy to have done anything for his country at thirty-five years of age - is the one who decides one day to leave a legacy behind him in the form of written memories, based on his most sincere thoughts, reflections, impressions and sensations, that affected him, within an interval of one year and half- two years backwards. Eventually he writes his diary not only because it has become his second nature, like a passion, giving him an outlet for his pent-up feeling, but still more because it gives him a clear view and keeps account of all that is passing.
The daily journal keeps a very clear description of his character, of his happenings, of his emotions. Although he studied and lived mostly abroad, he is and remains a cultured and gifted nobleman-dilettante. He even thinks this runs in the family, even if his father, a man of deep feelings, tried to find himself in religious convictions, when he found out that there is utter emptiness in everything he studied during his whole life.
His only misfortune is that he brought with him into the world very sensitive nerves. Sadly, I have to admit that at some point in my reading I was about to outcry: I have myself sensitive nerves, I cannot go on! That is to say that I was becoming more and more embittered, as reading about Leon鈥檚 thoughts and rambles was keenly irritating my nerves. Methinks, my reasoning and feelings are surely different than his 鈥� but why am I getting so distressed the more I read him? Therefore, enough! Enough and I will continue, ha!
And I did go on reading. But it was quite depressing with each new page. An exceptionally gifted child, with a promising future, brought up in the poetic melancholy of Rome, within an atmosphere and surroundings that failed not to impress his mind, yet despite all influence he is barely a dilettante, carrying within himself the conviction that he could be something infinitely greater than he is (definitely, wishful thinking). He explains the tragedy of his life through the one that he carries within him 鈥� 鈥渋mproductivite slave鈥� of the Ploszowskis. Along with this, goes the genius without portfolio.
Truth be told, the human being, like the sea, has his ebb and flood tides. But for Leon his will, energy and very action of life seem mostly at a very low tide, caused chiefly by a mere matter of nerves. He gets himself, on his own accord within a truly enchanted circle, where we can only see him deploying a despairing incapacity for life. He just doesn鈥檛 know and because he doesn鈥檛 know he escapes from marriage, although he fell in love with the girl.
鈮� It is not Aniela who is far from me, it is I who go farther and farther away from the Leon whose heart and thoughts were once so full of her. This does not mean that my feelings for her have vanished. By close analysis I find they have only changed in their active character. Some weeks ago, I loved her and wanted something; I love her still, but want nothing. 鈮�
Decidedly, love cleanses our hearts, but not Leon鈥檚. There are always two persons within him- the actor, and the spectator. Often one or the other is dissatisfied with the other, very rarely they both agree. His highest pleasure in life is, or at least was, to philosophize about everything: people, abilities, sentiments. What saddened me greatly is that he is yet aware of a cruel fact regarding his philosophizing his thirty-five years of life: 鈥淚 know it leads to nothing, I know it is wrong, but I do not know how not think鈥�. Instead of giving him anything, philosophy has eaten his heart away.
The novel ends somehow in the same note, 鈥淚 do not know鈥�, but the hero has stopped his maddening passive activity. He used to be unutterably unhappy because he thought his nature is an unhappy one, because it was poisoned by pessimism and scepticism, ruling his whole life. A longing is planted within him, there is a want and something is missing, in time he blindly follows his instinctive impulses. Chiefly it is the calm, masculine judgment that is wanting. Definitely it is the old story 鈥� he who inquiries too deeply into his own mind ends by disagreeing with himself; and who disagrees with himself is incapable of any decision.
Truly this novel leaves deep impression on the reader, it鈥檚 terrible to understand by and by how criticism of everything reduces the soul to utter impotence, while there is no faith in life. In the name of freedom of thought and freedom of doubt, how can one reach to an inward spiritual peace?
鈥淚 do not know鈥�, it is very contagious 馃槈 Since he is nothing than Leon Ploszowski, the force of habit is stronger than the force of life, of love. Sadly, but the cornucopia shower of gifts was simply wasted on this hero. He is a hyper-analytical sceptic inclined to hysteria, carries a great nothingness in his soul, and a strong neurosis in his veins, with no mastery over the slightest sensations. Fiddlesticks! Conclusively, I will just quote the sick hero: 鈥淗amlet is the human soul as it was, as it is, and as it will be.鈥� His story is about a disease of the will, a diseased imagination, about a love of a man who is close upon mania! And the oddity of the thing is that it is a mere play of words!
Finishing it I can only say I have a sudden longing for the sun and brighter skies, for places where there is no mist, no rain, no darkness. If I go where there is sun and brightness it will shield me from the unknown danger, well something in the form of Leon 鈥� or I am still yoked to his memories, because I feel his diary abused my trust. I am in big need of a change, or better said I should beware, as something is always growing within us! 馃槈 馃槉
The novel takes the form of a diary, basically the main character 鈥� feeling himself unworthy to have done anything for his country at thirty-five years of age - is the one who decides one day to leave a legacy behind him in the form of written memories, based on his most sincere thoughts, reflections, impressions and sensations, that affected him, within an interval of one year and half- two years backwards. Eventually he writes his diary not only because it has become his second nature, like a passion, giving him an outlet for his pent-up feeling, but still more because it gives him a clear view and keeps account of all that is passing.
The daily journal keeps a very clear description of his character, of his happenings, of his emotions. Although he studied and lived mostly abroad, he is and remains a cultured and gifted nobleman-dilettante. He even thinks this runs in the family, even if his father, a man of deep feelings, tried to find himself in religious convictions, when he found out that there is utter emptiness in everything he studied during his whole life.
His only misfortune is that he brought with him into the world very sensitive nerves. Sadly, I have to admit that at some point in my reading I was about to outcry: I have myself sensitive nerves, I cannot go on! That is to say that I was becoming more and more embittered, as reading about Leon鈥檚 thoughts and rambles was keenly irritating my nerves. Methinks, my reasoning and feelings are surely different than his 鈥� but why am I getting so distressed the more I read him? Therefore, enough! Enough and I will continue, ha!
And I did go on reading. But it was quite depressing with each new page. An exceptionally gifted child, with a promising future, brought up in the poetic melancholy of Rome, within an atmosphere and surroundings that failed not to impress his mind, yet despite all influence he is barely a dilettante, carrying within himself the conviction that he could be something infinitely greater than he is (definitely, wishful thinking). He explains the tragedy of his life through the one that he carries within him 鈥� 鈥渋mproductivite slave鈥� of the Ploszowskis. Along with this, goes the genius without portfolio.
Truth be told, the human being, like the sea, has his ebb and flood tides. But for Leon his will, energy and very action of life seem mostly at a very low tide, caused chiefly by a mere matter of nerves. He gets himself, on his own accord within a truly enchanted circle, where we can only see him deploying a despairing incapacity for life. He just doesn鈥檛 know and because he doesn鈥檛 know he escapes from marriage, although he fell in love with the girl.
鈮� It is not Aniela who is far from me, it is I who go farther and farther away from the Leon whose heart and thoughts were once so full of her. This does not mean that my feelings for her have vanished. By close analysis I find they have only changed in their active character. Some weeks ago, I loved her and wanted something; I love her still, but want nothing. 鈮�
Decidedly, love cleanses our hearts, but not Leon鈥檚. There are always two persons within him- the actor, and the spectator. Often one or the other is dissatisfied with the other, very rarely they both agree. His highest pleasure in life is, or at least was, to philosophize about everything: people, abilities, sentiments. What saddened me greatly is that he is yet aware of a cruel fact regarding his philosophizing his thirty-five years of life: 鈥淚 know it leads to nothing, I know it is wrong, but I do not know how not think鈥�. Instead of giving him anything, philosophy has eaten his heart away.
The novel ends somehow in the same note, 鈥淚 do not know鈥�, but the hero has stopped his maddening passive activity. He used to be unutterably unhappy because he thought his nature is an unhappy one, because it was poisoned by pessimism and scepticism, ruling his whole life. A longing is planted within him, there is a want and something is missing, in time he blindly follows his instinctive impulses. Chiefly it is the calm, masculine judgment that is wanting. Definitely it is the old story 鈥� he who inquiries too deeply into his own mind ends by disagreeing with himself; and who disagrees with himself is incapable of any decision.
Truly this novel leaves deep impression on the reader, it鈥檚 terrible to understand by and by how criticism of everything reduces the soul to utter impotence, while there is no faith in life. In the name of freedom of thought and freedom of doubt, how can one reach to an inward spiritual peace?
鈥淚 do not know鈥�, it is very contagious 馃槈 Since he is nothing than Leon Ploszowski, the force of habit is stronger than the force of life, of love. Sadly, but the cornucopia shower of gifts was simply wasted on this hero. He is a hyper-analytical sceptic inclined to hysteria, carries a great nothingness in his soul, and a strong neurosis in his veins, with no mastery over the slightest sensations. Fiddlesticks! Conclusively, I will just quote the sick hero: 鈥淗amlet is the human soul as it was, as it is, and as it will be.鈥� His story is about a disease of the will, a diseased imagination, about a love of a man who is close upon mania! And the oddity of the thing is that it is a mere play of words!
Finishing it I can only say I have a sudden longing for the sun and brighter skies, for places where there is no mist, no rain, no darkness. If I go where there is sun and brightness it will shield me from the unknown danger, well something in the form of Leon 鈥� or I am still yoked to his memories, because I feel his diary abused my trust. I am in big need of a change, or better said I should beware, as something is always growing within us! 馃槈 馃槉
January 27, 2022
Moj 拧esti Sjenkjevi膷, i svaki je bio mio, ali ovaj mi je najmiliji. 艩timung fin de siecle, ali du拧evni. Roman koji su voleli Tolstoj, 膶ehov, Gorki i Bora Stankovi膰.
鈥濳ako je pogre拧no mi拧ljenje da se ose膰ajnost savremenih ljudi smanjuje. Ponekad mislim da je obratno. Ko nema oba plu膰na krila, taj ja膷e di拧e jednim, a nama je oduzeto sve od 膷ega su ranije ljudi 啪iveli 鈥� ostavljeni su samo 啪ivci 鈥� razdra啪ljiviji uzbudljiviji nego u pre膽a拧njeg 膷oveka.鈥�
鈥濳ako je pogre拧no mi拧ljenje da se ose膰ajnost savremenih ljudi smanjuje. Ponekad mislim da je obratno. Ko nema oba plu膰na krila, taj ja膷e di拧e jednim, a nama je oduzeto sve od 膷ega su ranije ljudi 啪iveli 鈥� ostavljeni su samo 啪ivci 鈥� razdra啪ljiviji uzbudljiviji nego u pre膽a拧njeg 膷oveka.鈥�
September 3, 2018
No Spoilers.
If you were a person, living in Poland, at the end of the nineteenth century or at the beginning of the twentieth, you may have read this Nobel Prize authors鈥� works. But most probably, you did not read 鈥淲ithout Dogma.鈥� Since its鈥� publication over one hundred years ago, there are probably seventy-three of us that have, including myself. And, you too can read it, gratis, from an online company.
At different points in this novel, I monitored my reactions, as well as the story unfolding. There were times when I wanted to stop reading it. Times when I was immersed in it. Times when I considered personal defenestration. Times when I wanted to enter the pages, only to shake up the character鈥檚 person and behavior. And, as a precaution, I set up a noose by the ceiling lighting fixture, just in case鈥�
This story, written in diary format, and in narrative first person form, is about a young man in love. Sounds nice, yes? Love. He meditates on it for as long as the book is, probably four hundred pages. Four hundred incessant pages about 鈥榓mour.鈥� And for our Spanish speaking audience, 鈥榓mor.鈥�
鈥楲ove鈥� is a tricky sentiment and a nuanced word. 鈥楴ice,鈥� 鈥楲ucky,鈥� 鈥楶retty鈥� are also amorphous words that are quite subjective. We all have our own ideas of what they mean and how the word, the sensation of 鈥榣ove鈥� may have changed its鈥� complexion over the years for us. When I was eighteen 鈥榣ove鈥� was a vastly different wonder than it is to me now that I am twenty-one (kidding). But you understand the vicissitudes of it in your own lives.
The author was definitely brilliant. He was able to write with the best of them. But this is a dense, trying, demanding and troublesome work. It requires your full attention, if your goal is to reap the essence of what he is attempting to impart. No dawdling here. I would not call it a 鈥榣ite hearted romance novel,鈥� just as I would not deem a wine and cr猫me fraiche reduced beurre blanc sauce, healthy. Both, or either, will affect change.
I could sense that one could easily rate this piece one or three or five stars and all would be worthy ratings. But what are ratings? It is too simplistic, many times, to issue a viewpoint simply by pressing the correct number of buttons. I wavered throughout and finally reconciled it to five stars for 欧宝娱乐 modality.
If you are up to a rigorous, philosophical, and an emotional challenge, I suggest to you 鈥淲ithout Dogma.鈥�
If you were a person, living in Poland, at the end of the nineteenth century or at the beginning of the twentieth, you may have read this Nobel Prize authors鈥� works. But most probably, you did not read 鈥淲ithout Dogma.鈥� Since its鈥� publication over one hundred years ago, there are probably seventy-three of us that have, including myself. And, you too can read it, gratis, from an online company.
At different points in this novel, I monitored my reactions, as well as the story unfolding. There were times when I wanted to stop reading it. Times when I was immersed in it. Times when I considered personal defenestration. Times when I wanted to enter the pages, only to shake up the character鈥檚 person and behavior. And, as a precaution, I set up a noose by the ceiling lighting fixture, just in case鈥�
This story, written in diary format, and in narrative first person form, is about a young man in love. Sounds nice, yes? Love. He meditates on it for as long as the book is, probably four hundred pages. Four hundred incessant pages about 鈥榓mour.鈥� And for our Spanish speaking audience, 鈥榓mor.鈥�
鈥楲ove鈥� is a tricky sentiment and a nuanced word. 鈥楴ice,鈥� 鈥楲ucky,鈥� 鈥楶retty鈥� are also amorphous words that are quite subjective. We all have our own ideas of what they mean and how the word, the sensation of 鈥榣ove鈥� may have changed its鈥� complexion over the years for us. When I was eighteen 鈥榣ove鈥� was a vastly different wonder than it is to me now that I am twenty-one (kidding). But you understand the vicissitudes of it in your own lives.
The author was definitely brilliant. He was able to write with the best of them. But this is a dense, trying, demanding and troublesome work. It requires your full attention, if your goal is to reap the essence of what he is attempting to impart. No dawdling here. I would not call it a 鈥榣ite hearted romance novel,鈥� just as I would not deem a wine and cr猫me fraiche reduced beurre blanc sauce, healthy. Both, or either, will affect change.
I could sense that one could easily rate this piece one or three or five stars and all would be worthy ratings. But what are ratings? It is too simplistic, many times, to issue a viewpoint simply by pressing the correct number of buttons. I wavered throughout and finally reconciled it to five stars for 欧宝娱乐 modality.
If you are up to a rigorous, philosophical, and an emotional challenge, I suggest to you 鈥淲ithout Dogma.鈥�
June 2, 2013
It's a love story.
It's an unhappy love story.
It's an unhappy love story involving an exasperatingly self-aware protagonist reduced to inaction by the scepticism and scientific rationalism of his era.
What more could I ask for?
When I started reading this book, I hated it. The narrative is in the form of a diary written by the self-aware protagonist, Leon Ploszowski, and by the first few pages I was so irritated with his attitude toward life and love I wanted to rip the book up, but I couldn't because it was an ebook. I stuck with it because I'd been warned by the editor's preface that no matter how despicable the character, he was really all of us (in Leon's words: "hyper-analytical sceptics inclined to hysteria, with a great nothingness in their souls, and a strong neurosis in their veins") and I would find that out for myself if I gave him a chance to speak. So I did - but it wasn't before he fell in love with a woman who proceeded to marry a guy he detested that I became sympathetic enough to actually hear his voice. And what a voice it is. The observations he records are so minute, subtle and universal that I could neither skim-read the book nor tear myself away from it. ("Women have a special weakness for those who suffer for love's sake.")
It also made me laugh a lot after I got over my initial dislike for him because everything he said was so spot-on. To create a detestable character and then to gain for him the reader's sympathies so completely - that is good writing.
Love's a weird enough thing, but self-aware love's just bizarre. If you've ever tried it, you know it turns every moment and every action into an irreconcilable paradox. Do you desire your own happiness or the beloved's? Are you maybe using reverse reverse reverse psychology on yourself when you think you want to keep your love pure and spiritual? WTH is pure and spiritual love anyway? Fuck science, ruining everything since 1 billion BC. That's Leon Ploszowski all over, and that's why you end up shaking your head and grudgingly accepting that he is, in fact, all of us.
What makes the book unique among all the romances I've read is that it neither idealizes love nor denigrates and mocks it. (If there was one thing I didn't like, it was the "poetic justice" of the plot. Totally marred its credibility.) From a scientific perspective, love's a means of making two selves work as one in aid of genetic propagation. And we can draw all the impermeable boundaries we want, and pretend that we can classify love into types by writing separate Wikipedia articles on Platonic love and friendly love and romantic love, but the-desire-to-make-two-selves-work-as-one-in-aid-of-genetic-propagation can't be reduced to some linear combination of all those types. A creature in love has a goal to achieve, and evolution doesn't friggin' care if that goal comes across to its co-creatures as creepy and inappropriate, or full of beauty and pathos, or divine and mystical, or a waste of time and plain meh. All the drives of the organism, from the noblest to the most vulgar, are recruited for the purpose - because evolution doesn't know which of them might get the job done - and that can become a case of too many cooks, because every single one of the drives wants to help out and contribute its share with absolutely no regard for whether or not it is qualified to do so, or whether that contribution is required. This necessarily leads to a terrible internal struggle in even the most dimly self-aware and self-respecting of creatures, to intercede on behalf of the "nobler passions" and create a kind of "meritocracy" of desire. Leon Ploszowski throws himself so entirely into this struggle and lays bare the petty, calculating part of himself, and his shame and self-hatred at recognizing it as a part of himself, so mercilessly that one cannot help but respect him, and if one can be honest enough, say - 'I know that love is as despicable a thing as it is awe-inspiring, even if I cannot believe it. In this man's position I could not have endured this terrible self-knowledge, and I would have held on to any delusion, any dogma that allowed me to escape it.'
This, if nothing else, is Leon's salvation - in my eyes at least. He is a latter-day Werther, far less anchored in his convictions, incapable of belief in love or anything else until, and even after that belief is forced upon him biologically. He is not a great lover, he is not even a likeable lover, but he is a realistic lover.
One thing that rather amuses me is how Leon keeps referring to himself as 'feminine' (due to his disposition toward nervous inaction). The book is an excellent commentary on society and human relations, not only in fin-de-siecle Poland but everywhere, always, and this includes gender relations (Aniela's reaction to Leon's professions of love is so typically feminine - though Aniela herself is rather a wooden character with hardly any agency). Anyway point is, I don't have time to analyze right now whether or not Leon is justified in thinking himself womanly, but I would like to return to the question someday after I have studied a lot of psychology, sociology and critical theory.
It's an unhappy love story.
It's an unhappy love story involving an exasperatingly self-aware protagonist reduced to inaction by the scepticism and scientific rationalism of his era.
What more could I ask for?
When I started reading this book, I hated it. The narrative is in the form of a diary written by the self-aware protagonist, Leon Ploszowski, and by the first few pages I was so irritated with his attitude toward life and love I wanted to rip the book up, but I couldn't because it was an ebook. I stuck with it because I'd been warned by the editor's preface that no matter how despicable the character, he was really all of us (in Leon's words: "hyper-analytical sceptics inclined to hysteria, with a great nothingness in their souls, and a strong neurosis in their veins") and I would find that out for myself if I gave him a chance to speak. So I did - but it wasn't before he fell in love with a woman who proceeded to marry a guy he detested that I became sympathetic enough to actually hear his voice. And what a voice it is. The observations he records are so minute, subtle and universal that I could neither skim-read the book nor tear myself away from it. ("Women have a special weakness for those who suffer for love's sake.")
It also made me laugh a lot after I got over my initial dislike for him because everything he said was so spot-on. To create a detestable character and then to gain for him the reader's sympathies so completely - that is good writing.
Love's a weird enough thing, but self-aware love's just bizarre. If you've ever tried it, you know it turns every moment and every action into an irreconcilable paradox. Do you desire your own happiness or the beloved's? Are you maybe using reverse reverse reverse psychology on yourself when you think you want to keep your love pure and spiritual? WTH is pure and spiritual love anyway? Fuck science, ruining everything since 1 billion BC. That's Leon Ploszowski all over, and that's why you end up shaking your head and grudgingly accepting that he is, in fact, all of us.
What makes the book unique among all the romances I've read is that it neither idealizes love nor denigrates and mocks it. (If there was one thing I didn't like, it was the "poetic justice" of the plot. Totally marred its credibility.) From a scientific perspective, love's a means of making two selves work as one in aid of genetic propagation. And we can draw all the impermeable boundaries we want, and pretend that we can classify love into types by writing separate Wikipedia articles on Platonic love and friendly love and romantic love, but the-desire-to-make-two-selves-work-as-one-in-aid-of-genetic-propagation can't be reduced to some linear combination of all those types. A creature in love has a goal to achieve, and evolution doesn't friggin' care if that goal comes across to its co-creatures as creepy and inappropriate, or full of beauty and pathos, or divine and mystical, or a waste of time and plain meh. All the drives of the organism, from the noblest to the most vulgar, are recruited for the purpose - because evolution doesn't know which of them might get the job done - and that can become a case of too many cooks, because every single one of the drives wants to help out and contribute its share with absolutely no regard for whether or not it is qualified to do so, or whether that contribution is required. This necessarily leads to a terrible internal struggle in even the most dimly self-aware and self-respecting of creatures, to intercede on behalf of the "nobler passions" and create a kind of "meritocracy" of desire. Leon Ploszowski throws himself so entirely into this struggle and lays bare the petty, calculating part of himself, and his shame and self-hatred at recognizing it as a part of himself, so mercilessly that one cannot help but respect him, and if one can be honest enough, say - 'I know that love is as despicable a thing as it is awe-inspiring, even if I cannot believe it. In this man's position I could not have endured this terrible self-knowledge, and I would have held on to any delusion, any dogma that allowed me to escape it.'
This, if nothing else, is Leon's salvation - in my eyes at least. He is a latter-day Werther, far less anchored in his convictions, incapable of belief in love or anything else until, and even after that belief is forced upon him biologically. He is not a great lover, he is not even a likeable lover, but he is a realistic lover.
One thing that rather amuses me is how Leon keeps referring to himself as 'feminine' (due to his disposition toward nervous inaction). The book is an excellent commentary on society and human relations, not only in fin-de-siecle Poland but everywhere, always, and this includes gender relations (Aniela's reaction to Leon's professions of love is so typically feminine - though Aniela herself is rather a wooden character with hardly any agency). Anyway point is, I don't have time to analyze right now whether or not Leon is justified in thinking himself womanly, but I would like to return to the question someday after I have studied a lot of psychology, sociology and critical theory.
May 15, 2023
Bez dogme, na膷ela i uverenja, bez i膷ega sam 啪ivog uma i skepse koja razjeda svaki oslonac, i zbog toga: bez zanimanja i aspiracija, Leon svoje znatne 啪ivotne snage preobra啪ava u njima proporcijalnu naklonost prema 啪eni. U ose膰anju pronalazi smisao tek kada postane izazov i izgubljena bitka od koje nije u stanju da odustane. 沤udnja, i od nje nerazdvojna tragika, rasta膷u taedium vitae u svojim gorkim otrovima ali se na啪alost na tome ne zavr拧ava.
Leonova razmatranja, sporadi膷no provu膷ena kroz dnevni膷ke bele拧ke koje opisuju razvitke i krahove jednog odnosa, tako su bliska i poznata iako su atipi膷na, ili bar, retkog tipa, a individua sli膷nih stavova, ne samo da je moralo biti, ve膰 one, siguran sam, i danas postoje, te opseg primene 鈥渄ijagnoze鈥� ovog dela, koje nazivaju 鈥渄ijagnozom jedne generacije鈥�, po mom mi拧ljenju, prema拧uje 鈥渏ednu generaciju鈥�. Bave se temama kao 拧to su: implikacije razvijene samosvesti, odnosi: smrti i ljubavi, estetike i morala, skepticizma i misticizma, zatim: pojavom koju naziva l鈥檌mproductivite slave (slovenska neproduktivnost), a ove digresije i filozofski dezerti, pored toga 拧to produbljuju lik, mogu biti zasebno posmatrani i ispitivani.
Ukratko: izvanredan roman.
Leonova razmatranja, sporadi膷no provu膷ena kroz dnevni膷ke bele拧ke koje opisuju razvitke i krahove jednog odnosa, tako su bliska i poznata iako su atipi膷na, ili bar, retkog tipa, a individua sli膷nih stavova, ne samo da je moralo biti, ve膰 one, siguran sam, i danas postoje, te opseg primene 鈥渄ijagnoze鈥� ovog dela, koje nazivaju 鈥渄ijagnozom jedne generacije鈥�, po mom mi拧ljenju, prema拧uje 鈥渏ednu generaciju鈥�. Bave se temama kao 拧to su: implikacije razvijene samosvesti, odnosi: smrti i ljubavi, estetike i morala, skepticizma i misticizma, zatim: pojavom koju naziva l鈥檌mproductivite slave (slovenska neproduktivnost), a ove digresije i filozofski dezerti, pored toga 拧to produbljuju lik, mogu biti zasebno posmatrani i ispitivani.
Ukratko: izvanredan roman.
March 5, 2023
This one is a singularity in Sienkiewicz's works, most of them long historical novels. It is concieved as the diary of a rich Polish aristocrat, who's dealing with serious matters, as the meaning of life, morality, patriotism, not to forget to mention ladies.
Written in 1891, the story may look dusted, but some principles remain the same, even in our hurried times...
Written in 1891, the story may look dusted, but some principles remain the same, even in our hurried times...
September 2, 2013
numai ce-am 卯nchis cartea 葯i pot s膬 spun cu m芒na pe inim膬 c膬 este cel mai emo葲ionant 葯i zguduitor roman pe care l-am citit recent. mi-a atins 葯i ultima fibr膬 omeneasc膬, ceva ce sincer, nu credeam c膬 o s膬 mai fie posibil prea cur芒nd.
March 24, 2024
M膬 g芒ndesc adesea c膬 am avut fericirea 卯n m芒n膬 葯i i-am dat drumul.
April 8, 2025
3,5 猸愶笍
May 9, 2024
none of this would happed if leon p艂oszowski podotyka艂by troch臋 trawy
December 10, 2022
Unlike any of Sienkiewicz's other half dozen or so novels read to date, this is neither a historical fiction nor a story of separated love; instead, it is a memoir by a far-too-well-to-do Polish aristocrat - Leon Ploszowski - who spends all of his time in Rome, Berlin, Warsaw, Switzerland or at the country estates of his aunt. He is quite intelligent,and quite modern: he looks at art and philosophy from a critical, sceptical, disinterested distance, never really engaging in any firm belief or passionate commitment.
That is, until he falls in love with Aniela, a beautiful young Polish cousin whom his aunt, in one of her many attempts to marry him off, manages to orchestrate a lot of time for them together. Then, Leon's father falls ill in Rome and he leaves. Then, Aniela is pursued by a relatively shady business type, Kromitzki. Leon meets a truly beautiful woman in Rome, one Laura Davis, who is married but whose husband suffers from insanity. Ill-advisedly, Leon sends a note of dismissal to his aunt, hoping that Aniela 'find happiness with Kromitzki'. Learning that they are to be married,Leon dispatches a mutual friend to dissuade her from taking this step.
These efforts fail and Leon spends the last 200 or so of the book's 350 pp. bemoaning his love for Aniela, which she refuses to acknowledge, except as that of a brother for a sister. It's all rather pathetic, but there is no doubt he really loves her and that his love is doomed. Even the love he receives from a talented musician, Clara Hiltz, fails to displace his infatuation and the omnipresent pressure he feels to realize his unrequited love for Aniela. When he proposes to Clara, she wisely refuses, stating that though she loves him, she can tell that he does not love her.
The eventual bankuptcy and suicide of Kromitzki and death of the by then pregnant Aniela fail to lift the burden of depression and despair at the pointlessness of his existence from the shattered Leon, whose last musings seem somewhat suicidal.
A strange work, strangely titled and strangely developed with virtually nothing happening other than the main character's musings on his current often tragic plight.
That is, until he falls in love with Aniela, a beautiful young Polish cousin whom his aunt, in one of her many attempts to marry him off, manages to orchestrate a lot of time for them together. Then, Leon's father falls ill in Rome and he leaves. Then, Aniela is pursued by a relatively shady business type, Kromitzki. Leon meets a truly beautiful woman in Rome, one Laura Davis, who is married but whose husband suffers from insanity. Ill-advisedly, Leon sends a note of dismissal to his aunt, hoping that Aniela 'find happiness with Kromitzki'. Learning that they are to be married,Leon dispatches a mutual friend to dissuade her from taking this step.
These efforts fail and Leon spends the last 200 or so of the book's 350 pp. bemoaning his love for Aniela, which she refuses to acknowledge, except as that of a brother for a sister. It's all rather pathetic, but there is no doubt he really loves her and that his love is doomed. Even the love he receives from a talented musician, Clara Hiltz, fails to displace his infatuation and the omnipresent pressure he feels to realize his unrequited love for Aniela. When he proposes to Clara, she wisely refuses, stating that though she loves him, she can tell that he does not love her.
The eventual bankuptcy and suicide of Kromitzki and death of the by then pregnant Aniela fail to lift the burden of depression and despair at the pointlessness of his existence from the shattered Leon, whose last musings seem somewhat suicidal.
A strange work, strangely titled and strangely developed with virtually nothing happening other than the main character's musings on his current often tragic plight.
Read
February 26, 2025ten jeden by艂y kt贸ry nie pozwoli ci o sobie zapomnie膰
January 4, 2015
This is definitely one of the saddest books I have ever read. It teaches us that we must take the right decisions when we are supposed to and not let our pride conquer our lives. In the end, it might be the only thing that last and there will be place only for regrets.
March 9, 2024
jak mo偶na by膰 a偶 tak niedojrza艂ym idiot膮????????
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa膮aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa m*zczyzni
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa膮aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa m*zczyzni
May 31, 2023
袘械蟹 写芯谐屑邪 - 啸械薪褉懈泻 小褬械薪泻褬械胁懈褔
袛芯泻芯谢泻褍 褋邪泻邪褌械 写邪 锌褉芯褔懈褌邪褌械 写械谢芯 褋芯 褋泻褉懈械薪芯 斜芯谐邪褌褋褌胁芯, 褋泻褉懈械薪芯 胁芯 褋械泻芯褬 蟹斜芯褉, 褋械泻芯褬邪 褉械褔械薪懈褑邪, 褋械泻芯褬邪 褋褌褉邪薪懈褑邪, 邪 写邪 斜懈写械 芯褌泻褉懈械薪芯 胁芯 锌芯褋谢械写薪邪褌邪 褋褌褉邪薪懈褑邪, 褌芯谐邪褕 芯胁邪邪 泻薪懈谐邪 械 胁懈褋褌懈薪褋泻邪褌邪 蟹邪 袙邪褋.
袩懈褕褍胁邪薪邪 泻邪泻芯 写薪械胁薪懈泻 芯写 褋褌褉邪薪邪 薪邪 谐谢邪胁薪懈芯褌 锌褉芯褌邪谐芯薪懈褋褌, 胁芯写懈褔芯褌 薪邪 芯胁邪邪 锌褉懈泻邪蟹薪邪 袥械芯薪 袩褉芯褕芯胁褋泻懈. 袩芯 懈写械褬邪 薪邪 薪械谐芯胁懈芯褌 锌褉懈褬邪褌械谢 袌褍褋械褎 楔褮邪褌懈薪褋泻懈, 褌芯褬 褬邪 蟹邪锌芯褔薪褍胁邪 褋胁芯褬邪褌邪 锌芯褌褉邪谐邪 锌芯 锌懈褕邪薪懈芯褌 蟹斜芯褉. 袧邪 锌芯褔械褌芯泻芯褌 褋械 褌褉褍写懈 写邪 褋锌芯写械谢懈 褕褌芯 锌芯胁械褱械 懈薪褎芯褉屑邪褑懈懈 蟹邪 褌芯邪 泻芯褬 械 褌芯褬. 袧械谐芯胁芯褌芯 邪褉懈褋褌芯泻褉邪褌褋泻芯 锌芯褌械泻谢芯, 薪械谐芯胁芯褌芯 芯斜褉邪蟹芯胁邪薪懈械, 薪械谐芯胁懈褌械 褉邪蟹屑懈褋谢褍胁邪褮邪, 锌芯褋械斜薪芯 胁芯 芯写薪芯褋 薪邪 卸械薪懈褌械. 袧芯, 薪懈 褋邪屑 薪械 械 褋胁械褋械薪 写械泻邪 褱械 斜懈写械 懈褋泻褉械薪邪 懈褋锌芯胁械写. 袠邪泻芯 褌芯褬 薪械胁械褉薪懈泻, 邪褌械懈褋褌. 小泻械锌褌懈泻, 褎懈谢芯蟹芯褎, 褋邪屑芯褋胁械褋械薪, 械锌懈泻褍锌械械褑 ( 褔芯胁械泻 褕褌芯 褬邪 薪邪芯褤邪 褑械谢褌邪 薪邪 卸懈胁芯褌芯褌 胁芯 褌械谢械褋薪芯褌芯 褍卸懈胁邪褮械 ), 褉邪蟹胁褉邪褌薪懈泻, 褋谢邪写芯褋褌褉邪褋薪懈泻 ...
袘芯谐邪褌 械 胁芯泻邪斜褍谢邪褉芯褌 褋芯 蟹斜芯褉芯胁懈 蟹邪 褔芯胁械泻 泻邪泻芯 薪械谐芯.
袛薪械胁薪懈泻芯褌 械 褌芯褬 褕褌芯 屑褍 械 锌芯褌褉械斜械薪.
,, 效芯胁械泻 泻芯褬 芯褋褌邪胁邪 蟹邪写 褋械斜械 写薪械胁薪懈泻, 褋械械写薪芯 写邪谢懈 械 写芯斜褉芯 懈谢懈 谢芯褕芯 薪邪锌懈褕邪薪, 褋邪屑芯 写邪 械 懈褋泻褉械薪, 懈屑 锌褉械薪械褋褍胁邪 懈 懈屑 写邪胁邪 薪邪 懈写薪懈褌械 锌褋懈褏芯谢芯蟹懈 懈 褉芯屑邪薪褋懈械褉懈 薪械 褋邪屑芯 褋谢懈泻邪 蟹邪 褋胁芯械褌芯 胁褉械屑械, 褌褍泻褍 懈 械写懈薪褋褌胁械薪懈 胁懈褋褌懈薪褋泻懈 褔芯胁械褔泻懈 写芯泻褍屑械薪褌懈 薪邪 泻芯懈 屑芯卸械 写邪 懈屑 褋械 胁械褉褍胁邪".
袧械谐芯胁邪褌邪 屑邪褬泻邪 锌芯褔懈薪褍胁邪 械写薪邪 薪械写械谢邪 锌芯褋谢械 薪械谐芯胁芯褌芯 褉邪褤邪褮械, 邪 薪械谐芯胁懈芯褌 褌邪褌泻芯 蟹邪锌邪褤邪 胁芯 屑械谢邪薪褏芯谢懈褬邪, 锌芯褉邪写懈 蟹邪谐褍斜邪褌邪 薪邪 褋胁芯褬邪褌邪 褭褍斜械薪邪, 泻芯褬邪 薪懈泻芯谐邪褕 薪懈泻芯褬邪 薪械屑邪 写邪 屑芯卸械 写邪 褬邪 蟹邪屑械薪懈. 袙械褔械薪 械 褋锌芯屑械薪芯褌 薪邪 薪械邪.
小械 薪邪写械胁邪 薪邪 褌邪泻胁邪 褭褍斜芯胁 蟹邪 薪械谐芯胁懈芯褌 褋懈薪. 孝械褌泻邪褌邪 械 褌邪邪 泻芯褬邪 褬邪 懈屑邪 褍谢芯谐邪褌邪 薪邪 锌芯褋褉械写薪懈泻 蟹邪 锌褉芯薪邪芯褤邪褮械 薪邪 懈写薪邪褌邪 薪械胁械褋褌邪. 袥械芯薪 薪械 胁械褉褍胁邪 写械泻邪 褌芯邪 褱械 褋械 芯褋褌胁邪褉懈, 薪芯 薪械 褋邪泻邪 写邪 懈屑 褬邪 褍薪懈褕褌懈 懈褋泻褉械薪邪褌邪 懈 蟹邪械写薪懈褔泻邪 卸械谢斜邪 泻芯褬 褬邪 懈屑邪邪褌 薪械谐芯胁懈褌械 薪邪褬斜谢懈褋泻懈.
袥械芯薪 械 褔芯胁械泻 斜械蟹 写芯谐屑邪, 褌芯泻屑褍 泻邪泻芯 懈 薪邪褋谢芯胁芯褌 薪邪 芯胁邪邪 泻薪懈谐邪. 袗 写芯谐屑邪 械 胁械褉褋泻芯 薪邪褔械谢芯 褕褌芯 胁械褉薪懈褑懈褌械 褌褉械斜邪 写邪 谐芯 锌褉懈褎邪褌邪褌 斜械蟹 薪懈泻邪泻胁邪 泻褉懈褌懈泻邪 邪锌褋芯谢褍褌薪芯 胁懈褋褌懈薪懈褌芯.
袣邪泻芯 泻薪懈卸械胁薪懈泻 写芯谐屑邪 械 芯锌褕褌械褋褌胁芯, 邪 泻邪泻芯 锌褉懈胁邪褌械薪 褔芯胁械泻 械 褭褍斜械薪邪 卸械薪邪.
小械 薪邪写械胁邪邪褌 写械泻邪 褱械 谐芯 褋褌懈褕邪褌 褎懈谢芯蟹芯褎芯褌 胁芯 薪械谐芯 懈 薪械屑邪 写邪 谐芯 锌褉械懈蟹褎懈谢芯蟹芯褎懈褉邪 褋胁芯褬芯褌 褌邪谢械薪褌, 邪 懈 35 褌械 谐芯写懈薪懈 卸懈胁芯褌.
小褉械写斜邪褌邪 褋芯 褌邪邪 薪械卸薪邪 写械胁芯褬泻邪, 褱械 谐芯 锌褉芯屑械薪懈 褋褎邪褱邪褮械褌芯 薪邪 褭褍斜芯胁褌邪 懈 薪械褬蟹懈薪芯褌芯 锌褉懈褎邪褱邪褮械. 袗褮械谢泻邪 褱械 谐芯 锌褉芯屑械薪懈, 邪 褌芯褬 褋胁芯褬邪褌邪 褭褍斜芯胁 褱械 褬邪 锌褉械写邪写械 胁芯 褉邪褑械褌械 薪邪 写褉褍谐懈芯褌 ...
袛芯泻芯谢泻褍 褋邪泻邪褌械 写邪 锌褉芯褔懈褌邪褌械 写械谢芯 褋芯 褋泻褉懈械薪芯 斜芯谐邪褌褋褌胁芯, 褋泻褉懈械薪芯 胁芯 褋械泻芯褬 蟹斜芯褉, 褋械泻芯褬邪 褉械褔械薪懈褑邪, 褋械泻芯褬邪 褋褌褉邪薪懈褑邪, 邪 写邪 斜懈写械 芯褌泻褉懈械薪芯 胁芯 锌芯褋谢械写薪邪褌邪 褋褌褉邪薪懈褑邪, 褌芯谐邪褕 芯胁邪邪 泻薪懈谐邪 械 胁懈褋褌懈薪褋泻邪褌邪 蟹邪 袙邪褋.
袩懈褕褍胁邪薪邪 泻邪泻芯 写薪械胁薪懈泻 芯写 褋褌褉邪薪邪 薪邪 谐谢邪胁薪懈芯褌 锌褉芯褌邪谐芯薪懈褋褌, 胁芯写懈褔芯褌 薪邪 芯胁邪邪 锌褉懈泻邪蟹薪邪 袥械芯薪 袩褉芯褕芯胁褋泻懈. 袩芯 懈写械褬邪 薪邪 薪械谐芯胁懈芯褌 锌褉懈褬邪褌械谢 袌褍褋械褎 楔褮邪褌懈薪褋泻懈, 褌芯褬 褬邪 蟹邪锌芯褔薪褍胁邪 褋胁芯褬邪褌邪 锌芯褌褉邪谐邪 锌芯 锌懈褕邪薪懈芯褌 蟹斜芯褉. 袧邪 锌芯褔械褌芯泻芯褌 褋械 褌褉褍写懈 写邪 褋锌芯写械谢懈 褕褌芯 锌芯胁械褱械 懈薪褎芯褉屑邪褑懈懈 蟹邪 褌芯邪 泻芯褬 械 褌芯褬. 袧械谐芯胁芯褌芯 邪褉懈褋褌芯泻褉邪褌褋泻芯 锌芯褌械泻谢芯, 薪械谐芯胁芯褌芯 芯斜褉邪蟹芯胁邪薪懈械, 薪械谐芯胁懈褌械 褉邪蟹屑懈褋谢褍胁邪褮邪, 锌芯褋械斜薪芯 胁芯 芯写薪芯褋 薪邪 卸械薪懈褌械. 袧芯, 薪懈 褋邪屑 薪械 械 褋胁械褋械薪 写械泻邪 褱械 斜懈写械 懈褋泻褉械薪邪 懈褋锌芯胁械写. 袠邪泻芯 褌芯褬 薪械胁械褉薪懈泻, 邪褌械懈褋褌. 小泻械锌褌懈泻, 褎懈谢芯蟹芯褎, 褋邪屑芯褋胁械褋械薪, 械锌懈泻褍锌械械褑 ( 褔芯胁械泻 褕褌芯 褬邪 薪邪芯褤邪 褑械谢褌邪 薪邪 卸懈胁芯褌芯褌 胁芯 褌械谢械褋薪芯褌芯 褍卸懈胁邪褮械 ), 褉邪蟹胁褉邪褌薪懈泻, 褋谢邪写芯褋褌褉邪褋薪懈泻 ...
袘芯谐邪褌 械 胁芯泻邪斜褍谢邪褉芯褌 褋芯 蟹斜芯褉芯胁懈 蟹邪 褔芯胁械泻 泻邪泻芯 薪械谐芯.
袛薪械胁薪懈泻芯褌 械 褌芯褬 褕褌芯 屑褍 械 锌芯褌褉械斜械薪.
,, 效芯胁械泻 泻芯褬 芯褋褌邪胁邪 蟹邪写 褋械斜械 写薪械胁薪懈泻, 褋械械写薪芯 写邪谢懈 械 写芯斜褉芯 懈谢懈 谢芯褕芯 薪邪锌懈褕邪薪, 褋邪屑芯 写邪 械 懈褋泻褉械薪, 懈屑 锌褉械薪械褋褍胁邪 懈 懈屑 写邪胁邪 薪邪 懈写薪懈褌械 锌褋懈褏芯谢芯蟹懈 懈 褉芯屑邪薪褋懈械褉懈 薪械 褋邪屑芯 褋谢懈泻邪 蟹邪 褋胁芯械褌芯 胁褉械屑械, 褌褍泻褍 懈 械写懈薪褋褌胁械薪懈 胁懈褋褌懈薪褋泻懈 褔芯胁械褔泻懈 写芯泻褍屑械薪褌懈 薪邪 泻芯懈 屑芯卸械 写邪 懈屑 褋械 胁械褉褍胁邪".
袧械谐芯胁邪褌邪 屑邪褬泻邪 锌芯褔懈薪褍胁邪 械写薪邪 薪械写械谢邪 锌芯褋谢械 薪械谐芯胁芯褌芯 褉邪褤邪褮械, 邪 薪械谐芯胁懈芯褌 褌邪褌泻芯 蟹邪锌邪褤邪 胁芯 屑械谢邪薪褏芯谢懈褬邪, 锌芯褉邪写懈 蟹邪谐褍斜邪褌邪 薪邪 褋胁芯褬邪褌邪 褭褍斜械薪邪, 泻芯褬邪 薪懈泻芯谐邪褕 薪懈泻芯褬邪 薪械屑邪 写邪 屑芯卸械 写邪 褬邪 蟹邪屑械薪懈. 袙械褔械薪 械 褋锌芯屑械薪芯褌 薪邪 薪械邪.
小械 薪邪写械胁邪 薪邪 褌邪泻胁邪 褭褍斜芯胁 蟹邪 薪械谐芯胁懈芯褌 褋懈薪. 孝械褌泻邪褌邪 械 褌邪邪 泻芯褬邪 褬邪 懈屑邪 褍谢芯谐邪褌邪 薪邪 锌芯褋褉械写薪懈泻 蟹邪 锌褉芯薪邪芯褤邪褮械 薪邪 懈写薪邪褌邪 薪械胁械褋褌邪. 袥械芯薪 薪械 胁械褉褍胁邪 写械泻邪 褌芯邪 褱械 褋械 芯褋褌胁邪褉懈, 薪芯 薪械 褋邪泻邪 写邪 懈屑 褬邪 褍薪懈褕褌懈 懈褋泻褉械薪邪褌邪 懈 蟹邪械写薪懈褔泻邪 卸械谢斜邪 泻芯褬 褬邪 懈屑邪邪褌 薪械谐芯胁懈褌械 薪邪褬斜谢懈褋泻懈.
袥械芯薪 械 褔芯胁械泻 斜械蟹 写芯谐屑邪, 褌芯泻屑褍 泻邪泻芯 懈 薪邪褋谢芯胁芯褌 薪邪 芯胁邪邪 泻薪懈谐邪. 袗 写芯谐屑邪 械 胁械褉褋泻芯 薪邪褔械谢芯 褕褌芯 胁械褉薪懈褑懈褌械 褌褉械斜邪 写邪 谐芯 锌褉懈褎邪褌邪褌 斜械蟹 薪懈泻邪泻胁邪 泻褉懈褌懈泻邪 邪锌褋芯谢褍褌薪芯 胁懈褋褌懈薪懈褌芯.
袣邪泻芯 泻薪懈卸械胁薪懈泻 写芯谐屑邪 械 芯锌褕褌械褋褌胁芯, 邪 泻邪泻芯 锌褉懈胁邪褌械薪 褔芯胁械泻 械 褭褍斜械薪邪 卸械薪邪.
小械 薪邪写械胁邪邪褌 写械泻邪 褱械 谐芯 褋褌懈褕邪褌 褎懈谢芯蟹芯褎芯褌 胁芯 薪械谐芯 懈 薪械屑邪 写邪 谐芯 锌褉械懈蟹褎懈谢芯蟹芯褎懈褉邪 褋胁芯褬芯褌 褌邪谢械薪褌, 邪 懈 35 褌械 谐芯写懈薪懈 卸懈胁芯褌.
小褉械写斜邪褌邪 褋芯 褌邪邪 薪械卸薪邪 写械胁芯褬泻邪, 褱械 谐芯 锌褉芯屑械薪懈 褋褎邪褱邪褮械褌芯 薪邪 褭褍斜芯胁褌邪 懈 薪械褬蟹懈薪芯褌芯 锌褉懈褎邪褱邪褮械. 袗褮械谢泻邪 褱械 谐芯 锌褉芯屑械薪懈, 邪 褌芯褬 褋胁芯褬邪褌邪 褭褍斜芯胁 褱械 褬邪 锌褉械写邪写械 胁芯 褉邪褑械褌械 薪邪 写褉褍谐懈芯褌 ...
January 15, 2021
druga po艂owa tak okropnie mnie wynudzi艂a i wym臋czy艂a, 偶e w艂a艣ciwie powie艣膰 powinna dosta膰 dwie gwiazdki. ale nie mog臋 si臋 pozby膰 zachwytu nad celno艣ci膮 niekt贸rych my艣li i autentyczno艣ci膮 rozterek bohatera z pierwszej po艂owy
April 21, 2013
The most frustrating book I've ever read.
March 29, 2025
Troch臋 nie wiem, co z t膮 ksi膮偶k膮 zrobi膰. Z pewno艣ci膮 na pochwa艂臋 zas艂uguje sama forma. Jest to niew膮tpliwie przepi臋knie napisana ksi膮偶ka, czyta si臋 j膮 sprawnie, ma bardzo dobrze opisane wewn臋trzne rozterki oraz psychologiczny zarys bohatera, jego tendencje do autoanalizy w艂asnych prze偶y膰 i 艣wietnie wykonan膮 narracj膮 z motywem unreliable narrator.
Jednocze艣nie jest to ksi膮偶ka, za kt贸rej ide膮 nie umiem stan膮膰. Ide膮, kt贸ra jest ze mn膮 sprzeczna wewn臋trznie pod tyloma wzgl臋dami. Nie wiem. Rozumiem zamys艂 Sienkiewicza oraz fakt, 偶e mia艂 to by膰 komentarz spo艂eczny krytykuj膮cy 贸wczesne m艂ode pokolenie, ale jednocze艣nie ci臋偶ko mi zawierzy膰, 偶e sam Sienkiewicz nie wla艂 tam tak偶e swoich w艂asnych pogl膮d贸w. Z pewno艣ci膮 czyta艂oby mi si臋 to inaczej, gdybym nie wiedzia艂, kto jest autorem, ani w jakim roku oraz etapie jego tw贸rczo艣ci zosta艂o wydane. Mo偶na by艂oby tutaj oczywi艣cie poruszy膰 temat Barthesa i 艣mierci autora. Dupa a nie 艣mier膰 autora ;/ Ksi膮偶ka, kt贸ra przekazuje takie idee oraz tak mocno wp艂ywa na 贸wczesne pokolenie, nie powinna by膰 czytana bez analizy tego, kt贸re opinie w niej zawarte stanowi艂y faktyczn膮 krytyk臋, a kt贸re by艂y odbiciem my艣li samego autora (np. o kobietach).
Prosz臋 nie zrozumcie mnie 藕le, ja naprawd臋 rozumiem, dlaczego ta ksi膮偶ka mo偶e si臋 podoba膰. Widz臋 w niej naprawd臋 wiele zalet, ale osobi艣cie nie jestem w stanie wystawi膰 temu dzie艂u dobrej oceny.
Btw ca艂a fabu艂a by si臋 nie wydarzy艂a, gdyby Leon frajer znalaz艂 sobie prac臋 - unemployment final boss.
Jednocze艣nie jest to ksi膮偶ka, za kt贸rej ide膮 nie umiem stan膮膰. Ide膮, kt贸ra jest ze mn膮 sprzeczna wewn臋trznie pod tyloma wzgl臋dami. Nie wiem. Rozumiem zamys艂 Sienkiewicza oraz fakt, 偶e mia艂 to by膰 komentarz spo艂eczny krytykuj膮cy 贸wczesne m艂ode pokolenie, ale jednocze艣nie ci臋偶ko mi zawierzy膰, 偶e sam Sienkiewicz nie wla艂 tam tak偶e swoich w艂asnych pogl膮d贸w. Z pewno艣ci膮 czyta艂oby mi si臋 to inaczej, gdybym nie wiedzia艂, kto jest autorem, ani w jakim roku oraz etapie jego tw贸rczo艣ci zosta艂o wydane. Mo偶na by艂oby tutaj oczywi艣cie poruszy膰 temat Barthesa i 艣mierci autora. Dupa a nie 艣mier膰 autora ;/ Ksi膮偶ka, kt贸ra przekazuje takie idee oraz tak mocno wp艂ywa na 贸wczesne pokolenie, nie powinna by膰 czytana bez analizy tego, kt贸re opinie w niej zawarte stanowi艂y faktyczn膮 krytyk臋, a kt贸re by艂y odbiciem my艣li samego autora (np. o kobietach).
Prosz臋 nie zrozumcie mnie 藕le, ja naprawd臋 rozumiem, dlaczego ta ksi膮偶ka mo偶e si臋 podoba膰. Widz臋 w niej naprawd臋 wiele zalet, ale osobi艣cie nie jestem w stanie wystawi膰 temu dzie艂u dobrej oceny.
Btw ca艂a fabu艂a by si臋 nie wydarzy艂a, gdyby Leon frajer znalaz艂 sobie prac臋 - unemployment final boss.
February 14, 2025
"In the ocean of trouble, evil, foolishness, uncertainties, and doubts we call life, there is one thing worth living for, as certain and as strong as - nay, stronger than - death; and that is love. Beyond it there is nothingness."
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Any other comment regarding the book is unnecessary...
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Any other comment regarding the book is unnecessary...
April 18, 2024
kiedy艣 jeszcze wr贸c臋 do tej ksi膮偶ki...
January 15, 2025
tak si臋 czuje kiedy nie mam fajek on me: 鈥瀊ez szluga鈥�
March 24, 2025
HENRYKU CO艢 TY ZROBI艁
March 31, 2014
F膬r膬 ideal (Editura Litera) se petrece la sf芒r葯itul secolului XIX, 卯n plin av芒nt al decadentismului. Henryk Sienkiewicz, scriitorul polonez laureat al premiului Nobel pentru literatur膬 卯n 1905, pune 卯n discu葲ie, f膬r膬 s-o cru葲e, perioada amintit膬, roas膬 de scepticism 葯i incapacitat膬 parc膬 de o stupoare mental膬. Eroul este Leon Ploszowski, un aristocrat t芒n膬r de la care 卯ntreaga lume are cele mai mari a葯tept膬ri pentru c膬 e foarte bine dotat intelectual 葯i provine dintr-o familie a葯i葯derea. 葮i to葲i 葯u葯otesc pe la col葲uri: 鈥滶h, dac膬 ar vrea s膬 se apuce de ceva!鈥� Numai c膬 b膬rbatul, ajuns deja la 35 de ani, este cople葯it de neputin葲膬 葯i c膬zut 卯ntr-o atitudine estetic膬 zadarnic膬. O minte supraanalitic膬 葯i un rafinament precoce 卯l os芒ndesc la un soi de paralizie din cauza c膬reia nu poate mi葯ca 卯n nicio direc葲ie concret膬 卯n via葲膬.
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August 1, 2013
O foarte interesanta incursiune in lumea interioara a unui barbat inteligent si plin de pasiune, intr-un limbaj care evoca mirosul caisilor in floare. Am citit-o cu sufletul la gura, iar sfarsitul, desi tragic, a respectat simtul realitatii. Viata- asa cum e ea, sublima si parsiva, in acelasi timp.
July 26, 2016
Incredible book, indeed! The way Sienkiewicz could express every single one of his thoughts as if his memory were endless, made me feel so limited. I start forgetting my thoughts while having them...
August 27, 2012
Good book, insightful psychology of women, nicely written. A bit too dramatic around the edges.
March 23, 2015
Such a beautifully written book. Enjoyed every page of it. It's a heartbreaking love story. It's a must read
Want to read
January 14, 2016A unique and very interesting book showing the progression in the lives of the characters. My first exposure to a Polish author and it's got me wanting more. I would recommend it.
August 22, 2022
BG m贸wi艂, 偶e fajne, ale ja my艣l臋, 偶e tego si臋 nie da przeczyta膰 nieironicznie. G艂贸wny bohater to 35-latek z mentalno艣ci膮 15-latka. Dekadentyzm nie jest w moim gu艣cie.
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