Kalliope's Reviews > Vierundzwanzig Stunden aus dem Leben einer Frau
Vierundzwanzig Stunden aus dem Leben einer Frau
by

Zweig again displays his magic in his ability to grasp, resolutely and devoutly, the reader’s attention -- quickly. And again he chooses public spaces where, paradoxically, the most private corners of a person’s soul can be encountered: hotels, trains, ships, and casinos. Places of transit with an element of chance.
Peripatetic that he was, these places offered him endless portrait galleries from where he could pick his types. And incisive examiner that he was, his surgical observations exposed the crevices of the human hearts not visible on the disclosed canvases.
And in those crevices he always detects the passions, that forceful and elusive substance that exerts its will over any--always ineffectual--shield.
Seductively.
One also recognizes his amiable and profound impartiality in the way he could mold a story to show how very predictable the unpredictable is.
It all can happen in a short and measured slice of a person’s life.
by


Zweig again displays his magic in his ability to grasp, resolutely and devoutly, the reader’s attention -- quickly. And again he chooses public spaces where, paradoxically, the most private corners of a person’s soul can be encountered: hotels, trains, ships, and casinos. Places of transit with an element of chance.
Peripatetic that he was, these places offered him endless portrait galleries from where he could pick his types. And incisive examiner that he was, his surgical observations exposed the crevices of the human hearts not visible on the disclosed canvases.
And in those crevices he always detects the passions, that forceful and elusive substance that exerts its will over any--always ineffectual--shield.
Seductively.
One also recognizes his amiable and profound impartiality in the way he could mold a story to show how very predictable the unpredictable is.
It all can happen in a short and measured slice of a person’s life.
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Vierundzwanzig Stunden aus dem Leben einer Frau.
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Reading Progress
June 15, 2014
– Shelved
June 15, 2014
– Shelved as:
fiction-german
June 15, 2014
– Shelved as:
austro-hungary
June 16, 2014
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Started Reading
June 16, 2014
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Finished Reading
February 16, 2016
– Shelved as:
2014
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Lilo
(last edited Jun 16, 2014 09:59AM)
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You could read his memoirs then...

I read his memoir about the Zweigs's living in Vermont, many years ago. I remember how they loved animals. I could especially relate to that once an animal (usually a chicken) was named, it was no longer designated to be killed for food.
When I grew up (in Germany, during WWII and also the deprived time after the war), all our chickens had names, but they were killed, anyway, once they reached their "economic" age. They tasted great, but during dinner, tears were running from our eyes. The only family member who didn't cry was my father (and I am rather sure this was because, at the time, crying was considered very "unmanly").

We have always also given names to animals, and some objects too.
It must have felt dreadful to have to eat an acquaintance.
I have this on my "own-to-read" shelf..


You will enjoy it. I did not discuss it but wait until you read his section on hands, their movements, their gestures and what they convey.

Indeed. Too much can happen in a short and measured slice of clock time, and that idea is aptly illustrated in the image you've chosen, Kalliope. Klasse!

It WAS dreadful, and I always pleaded for our beloved chickens not being killed, even though I loved the taste of chicken and I have always been a greedy eater. But my grandmother explained that we did not have enough feed and could not afford to keep chickens that no longer produced (an adequate amount of) eggs. During the "bad time", chicken feed was very difficult to obtain. And after the monetary reform (1949), there was more obtainable feed but little money to buy it.
During the war, chickens could only be traded for commodities (like a couch, some good clothing [previously owned by my late grandfather], or a golden pocket watch). We were able to obtain fertilized eggs some time after the war (probably 1947), which we hatched in our kitchen. Since half of the hatched chickens turned out to be males, they had to be raised for food. Thus, they only got to live for (+/- 6) weeks (compared to 3-4 years for laying hens). While all the killing was done by a -- less sensitive -- neighbor, this put such a stress on our family that we never hatched chickens again. The young roosters had been so very loving, flying onto our arms and shoulders, and we betrayed them and had them murdered. To have them killed at such a young age was devastating on all family members.
My husband and I no longer eat chicken, not even humanely raised chicken.
Sorry, I derailed from the book you reviewed.
I definitely want to read more of Zweig. I think I also read some more, decades ago, but can't remember for sure. What would you give first choice? The above book?

The classic is his Schachnovelle

Indeed. Too much can happen in a short and measured slice of clock time, and that idea is aptly illustrated in the image you've c..."
It was a perfect read for a situation in which I had to do a lot of waiting....

You write, "It ['Vierundzwanzig Stunden aus dem Leben einer Frau'] was a perfect read for a situation in which I had to do a lot of waiting ..."
Do you think this book would be the right read for me, who I am a very impatient person? :-)

You write, "It ['Vierundzwanzig Stunden aus dem Leben einer Frau'] was a perfect read for a situation in which I had to do a l..."
Either are good but the Chess Story is more famous.


Thank you, Jareed. With Zweig I think one certainly has to read a few of his works to get a sense of his very acute powers in observing people. I have identified at least three more, apart from his novel, that I want to read.


Thank you, Ilse.. and you have reminded me that I still have a few Zweig works I want to read. Have you read any of the biographies on him?


I have read the autobiography, which in reality disclosed very little of himself, but gave an excellent account of the very difficult times he had to live through.
I also read one which received a lot of attention when published but which complemented very well Zweig's more veiled account. Three Lives: A Biography of Stefan Zweig
Thank you, J-P for your recommendation. I did not know about it.. Will keep the reference but it may take some time until I read it. I certainly like the title.