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A Time to Love and a Time to Die
From the quintessential author of wartime Germany, A Time to Love and a Time to Die echoes the harrowing insights of his masterpiece All Quiet on the Western Front .
After two years at the Russian front, Ernst Graeber finally receives three weeks’ leave. But since leaves have been canceled before, he decides not to write his parents, fearing he would just raise their hopes.
Then, when Graeber arrives home, he finds his house bombed to ruin and his parents nowhere in sight. Nobody knows if they are dead or alive. As his leave draws to a close, Graeber reaches out to Elisabeth, a childhood friend. Like him, she is imprisoned in a world she did not create. But in a time of war, love seems a world away. And sometimes, temporary comfort can lead to something unexpected and redeeming.
“The world has a great writer in Erich Maria Remarque. He is a craftsman of unquestionably first rank, a man who can bend language to his will. Whether he writes of men or of inanimate nature, his touch is sensitive, firm, and sure.”— The New York Times Book Review
After two years at the Russian front, Ernst Graeber finally receives three weeks’ leave. But since leaves have been canceled before, he decides not to write his parents, fearing he would just raise their hopes.
Then, when Graeber arrives home, he finds his house bombed to ruin and his parents nowhere in sight. Nobody knows if they are dead or alive. As his leave draws to a close, Graeber reaches out to Elisabeth, a childhood friend. Like him, she is imprisoned in a world she did not create. But in a time of war, love seems a world away. And sometimes, temporary comfort can lead to something unexpected and redeeming.
“The world has a great writer in Erich Maria Remarque. He is a craftsman of unquestionably first rank, a man who can bend language to his will. Whether he writes of men or of inanimate nature, his touch is sensitive, firm, and sure.”— The New York Times Book Review
432 pages, Paperback
First published September 1, 1954
527 people are currently reading
16448 people want to read
About the author
Erich Maria Remarque
197 books5,933 followersErich Maria Remarque was a German novelist best known for All Quiet on the Western Front (1929), a landmark anti-war novel based on his experiences in World War I. The book became an international bestseller, defining a new genre of veterans’ literature and inspiring multiple film adaptations. Its strong anti-war themes led to condemnation by the Nazi regime, which banned and burned his works.
Born Erich Paul Remark in 1898, he adopted the surname Remarque to honor his French ancestry. He served on the Western Front during World War I, where he was wounded, and later pursued various jobs, including teaching, editing, and technical writing. After the massive success of All Quiet on the Western Front, he wrote several other novels addressing war and exile, such as The Road Back, Three Comrades, and Arch of Triumph. His outspoken opposition to the Nazi regime forced him into exile in Switzerland and later the United States, where he became a naturalized citizen in 1947.
Remarque’s personal life included high-profile relationships with actresses Marlene Dietrich and Paulette Goddard, the latter of whom he married in 1958. In 1943, his youngest sister, Elfriede, was executed by the Nazis for anti-regime remarks, an event that deeply affected him. He spent his later years in Switzerland, where he continued writing. His final completed novel, The Night in Lisbon (1962), was another bestseller.
He died in 1970 at the age of 72, leaving behind a literary legacy that continues to shape discussions on war and its consequences.
AKA:
Эрих Мария Ремарк (Russian)
Born Erich Paul Remark in 1898, he adopted the surname Remarque to honor his French ancestry. He served on the Western Front during World War I, where he was wounded, and later pursued various jobs, including teaching, editing, and technical writing. After the massive success of All Quiet on the Western Front, he wrote several other novels addressing war and exile, such as The Road Back, Three Comrades, and Arch of Triumph. His outspoken opposition to the Nazi regime forced him into exile in Switzerland and later the United States, where he became a naturalized citizen in 1947.
Remarque’s personal life included high-profile relationships with actresses Marlene Dietrich and Paulette Goddard, the latter of whom he married in 1958. In 1943, his youngest sister, Elfriede, was executed by the Nazis for anti-regime remarks, an event that deeply affected him. He spent his later years in Switzerland, where he continued writing. His final completed novel, The Night in Lisbon (1962), was another bestseller.
He died in 1970 at the age of 72, leaving behind a literary legacy that continues to shape discussions on war and its consequences.
AKA:
Эрих Мария Ремарк (Russian)
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 763 reviews
August 30, 2022
“Death smelled different in Russia than in Africa. In Africa, under heavy English fire, the corpses between the lines had often lain unburied for a long time, too; but the sun had worked fast… It was a dry death, in sand, sun, and wind. In Russia it was a greasy, stinking death.”
I suspected going into this that it would be a grim and ultimately very depressing story. I also counted on it being marked with moments of beauty and deep reflections on humanity. I wasn’t wrong. I discovered Remarque’s gift for writing war stories when I read All Quiet on the Western Front. At that time I had said I didn’t know if another book existed that so effectively conveyed the meaninglessness of war. Well, there is another; and it just happens to be this one by the same author. What Remarque did with World War I in All Quiet he did here again using the backdrop of WWII instead. I’ve become rather weary of some WWII novels. They’ve saturated the book market and I often find them less effective as a result. I sometimes wonder if I’ve become indifferent. But then I read something like this and I know for certain that’s not at all true. It all comes down to competent storytelling and the avoidance of sensationalism.
“He thought of the breakfast table at home. His mother had a blue and white checked tablecloth and there had been honey and rolls and coffee with hot milk. The canary had sung and in summer the sun had shone upon the rose geraniums in the window. At that time he had often rubbed the dark green leaves between his hands smelling the strong, foreign perfume and thinking of foreign lands. Since then he had seen plenty of foreign lands but not the way he had dreamed of at that time.”
Ernst Graeber has finally been granted furlough and is on his way home to Germany from the Russian front. As Germany is clearly losing the war, Ernst begins to wonder what they are fighting for after all. He’s never understood it to begin with, but like thousands of others, he followed orders as the alternative was daunting to a young man with his whole life ahead of him. What he finds when he arrives home is that the path of war’s destruction isn’t isolated to the fronts alone. War finds its way into the nooks and crannies of people’s hometowns. It’s not just soldiers who lose their lives in battle. Women, children and the elderly are all at risk. Erich Remarque doesn’t shy away from illustrating gruesome death. We spend more time away from the front with Ernst, but the details are just as frightening as if we were plunked on the frontlines in Russia. Ernst’s crisis of morality escalates while home and it is here, in his head, that I found the most rewarding parts of the novel. He reacquaints himself with a former schoolmate named Elisabeth and in a short time the two learn that it is the little things that count most in life – a great reminder not just in wartime but anytime.
“After his years close to death the wine was now not just wine, the silver not just silver, and the music that stole into the room from somewhere not just music – they were all symbols of that other life, the life without death and destruction, the life for life’s sake that had already become almost a myth and a hopeless dream.”
“I wanted to have something to hold me. But I didn’t realize that makes one doubly vulnerable.”
This book covers such a very small window of time during WWII. A brief time is spent at the front in Russia – just enough to illustrate the horrors there without overdoing it. It’s very realistically portrayed though. Remarque doesn’t gloss over a single thing. The rest of the novel is spent in Germany on Ernst’s three week furlough. It was a time of growth and contemplation and is remarkably well done. The ending… well, no doubt he knows how to write the most fitting and potent conclusions! I don’t know if I can trust anyone else other than Remarque with this topic anymore. These might be “old” stories, but they are classics for good reason. What one reads here can apply to any time of conflict and hostilities. If you haven’t picked up All Quiet on the Western Front or this one yet, please do! You’ll be impressed by the truth in both the darkest and brightest pieces of our humanity.
“For the worms of Europe, Asia and Africa we have been the Golden Age. We have turned over to them armies of corpses. Not only soldiers’ flesh – women’s flesh, too, and children’s flesh and the soft bomb-torn flesh of the aged. Plenty of all. In the sagas of the worms we will be for generations the kindly gods of superfluity.”
I suspected going into this that it would be a grim and ultimately very depressing story. I also counted on it being marked with moments of beauty and deep reflections on humanity. I wasn’t wrong. I discovered Remarque’s gift for writing war stories when I read All Quiet on the Western Front. At that time I had said I didn’t know if another book existed that so effectively conveyed the meaninglessness of war. Well, there is another; and it just happens to be this one by the same author. What Remarque did with World War I in All Quiet he did here again using the backdrop of WWII instead. I’ve become rather weary of some WWII novels. They’ve saturated the book market and I often find them less effective as a result. I sometimes wonder if I’ve become indifferent. But then I read something like this and I know for certain that’s not at all true. It all comes down to competent storytelling and the avoidance of sensationalism.
“He thought of the breakfast table at home. His mother had a blue and white checked tablecloth and there had been honey and rolls and coffee with hot milk. The canary had sung and in summer the sun had shone upon the rose geraniums in the window. At that time he had often rubbed the dark green leaves between his hands smelling the strong, foreign perfume and thinking of foreign lands. Since then he had seen plenty of foreign lands but not the way he had dreamed of at that time.”
Ernst Graeber has finally been granted furlough and is on his way home to Germany from the Russian front. As Germany is clearly losing the war, Ernst begins to wonder what they are fighting for after all. He’s never understood it to begin with, but like thousands of others, he followed orders as the alternative was daunting to a young man with his whole life ahead of him. What he finds when he arrives home is that the path of war’s destruction isn’t isolated to the fronts alone. War finds its way into the nooks and crannies of people’s hometowns. It’s not just soldiers who lose their lives in battle. Women, children and the elderly are all at risk. Erich Remarque doesn’t shy away from illustrating gruesome death. We spend more time away from the front with Ernst, but the details are just as frightening as if we were plunked on the frontlines in Russia. Ernst’s crisis of morality escalates while home and it is here, in his head, that I found the most rewarding parts of the novel. He reacquaints himself with a former schoolmate named Elisabeth and in a short time the two learn that it is the little things that count most in life – a great reminder not just in wartime but anytime.
“After his years close to death the wine was now not just wine, the silver not just silver, and the music that stole into the room from somewhere not just music – they were all symbols of that other life, the life without death and destruction, the life for life’s sake that had already become almost a myth and a hopeless dream.”
“I wanted to have something to hold me. But I didn’t realize that makes one doubly vulnerable.”
This book covers such a very small window of time during WWII. A brief time is spent at the front in Russia – just enough to illustrate the horrors there without overdoing it. It’s very realistically portrayed though. Remarque doesn’t gloss over a single thing. The rest of the novel is spent in Germany on Ernst’s three week furlough. It was a time of growth and contemplation and is remarkably well done. The ending… well, no doubt he knows how to write the most fitting and potent conclusions! I don’t know if I can trust anyone else other than Remarque with this topic anymore. These might be “old” stories, but they are classics for good reason. What one reads here can apply to any time of conflict and hostilities. If you haven’t picked up All Quiet on the Western Front or this one yet, please do! You’ll be impressed by the truth in both the darkest and brightest pieces of our humanity.
“For the worms of Europe, Asia and Africa we have been the Golden Age. We have turned over to them armies of corpses. Not only soldiers’ flesh – women’s flesh, too, and children’s flesh and the soft bomb-torn flesh of the aged. Plenty of all. In the sagas of the worms we will be for generations the kindly gods of superfluity.”
June 6, 2025
4,25
Niby człowiek wiedział, a się łudził
Niby człowiek wiedział, a się łudził
April 14, 2024
You become a German soldier
♠️ The novel begins and ends on the Eastern Front. In-between, 75% of the story takes place on the Home Front in Germany. As the male protagonist says, There is no difference. Because of the air raids, Germany is being reduced to rubble. Germany looks like Russia.
The story flows strong and steady as a river from beginning to end. I devoured it in one sitting of several hours duration. While All Quiet was pathos and poetry in motion, this WW2 All Quiet adds substantially more realism into the mix. The raw descriptions of combat might have been written in the past ten years. The powerful similes remain, but there is more death and destruction.
🌸 At the same time, in the midst of the horrors of mechanized warfare and ruthless air raids, we are given beautiful images of the ongoing and defiant beauty of nature and human hope.
Remarque is not going to give you a heroic or patriotic version of warfare. There is no flag waving here. You become a German soldier fighting a war you know is lost. It is frightening, it is grim, it is ugly. After I’d read the first 50 pages, I felt sick - how brutal war is, how terrifying, how disgusting and despicable. Yet, on leave in Germany, despite the savagery of bombing raids, I fall in love, I feel human again, I smell spring flowers, I see linden trees bursting into green leaf 🍃
Like All Quiet and Three Comrades, this novel is a tragedy and Remarque is no more going to give you a happy ending than Thomas Hardy or Ernest Hemingway. Nevertheless, the story is important - it is strong and has as much beauty as it has death and despair. Unforgettable.
♠️ The novel begins and ends on the Eastern Front. In-between, 75% of the story takes place on the Home Front in Germany. As the male protagonist says, There is no difference. Because of the air raids, Germany is being reduced to rubble. Germany looks like Russia.
The story flows strong and steady as a river from beginning to end. I devoured it in one sitting of several hours duration. While All Quiet was pathos and poetry in motion, this WW2 All Quiet adds substantially more realism into the mix. The raw descriptions of combat might have been written in the past ten years. The powerful similes remain, but there is more death and destruction.
🌸 At the same time, in the midst of the horrors of mechanized warfare and ruthless air raids, we are given beautiful images of the ongoing and defiant beauty of nature and human hope.
Remarque is not going to give you a heroic or patriotic version of warfare. There is no flag waving here. You become a German soldier fighting a war you know is lost. It is frightening, it is grim, it is ugly. After I’d read the first 50 pages, I felt sick - how brutal war is, how terrifying, how disgusting and despicable. Yet, on leave in Germany, despite the savagery of bombing raids, I fall in love, I feel human again, I smell spring flowers, I see linden trees bursting into green leaf 🍃
Like All Quiet and Three Comrades, this novel is a tragedy and Remarque is no more going to give you a happy ending than Thomas Hardy or Ernest Hemingway. Nevertheless, the story is important - it is strong and has as much beauty as it has death and despair. Unforgettable.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 19, 2025
I remember my grandmother used to say that I am most afraid of war... after all, we have a few crazy people in the neighborhood, so let's appreciate those days when we can do nothing, when we don't hear the sounds of explosions, when we can read a book by the light of a lamp without fear of air raids.
May 10, 2024
The novel left me aching .. Remarque's characters never leave you indifferent and the young German soldier who can't find his parents while on a leave but finds love is not exception ... My second favourite novel by EMR I have read so far ..
August 6, 2023
This novel begins with shocking descriptions of corpses, much like in World War II. Gräber, the main character, is a German soldier on the Russian front. He obtains permission to find his relatives in Germany. Arriving in his home village, he struggles to find his house through the rubble of the bombings and searches for his family. He will also find love, get married, and live "day to day" in this devastated village, disgusted by this war, the debacle in the face of the imminent defeat of Germany...
I enjoyed reading this very touching book. The characters are endearing and have a lot of "relief"; for example, Gräber finds it challenging to choose himself in the face of a former comrade who has now become a "murderous" Nazi officer who offers him his hospitality with great sympathy. Gräber's love reminds me of Hemingway's "For Whom the Bell Tolls," in which Robert Jordan decides to live a complete love story in three days.
However, this German character is very, even too "clean"; it almost resembles a soldier from an American film... But that in no way detracts from the beauty of this story and the experience that E.M. Remarque offers.
I enjoyed reading this very touching book. The characters are endearing and have a lot of "relief"; for example, Gräber finds it challenging to choose himself in the face of a former comrade who has now become a "murderous" Nazi officer who offers him his hospitality with great sympathy. Gräber's love reminds me of Hemingway's "For Whom the Bell Tolls," in which Robert Jordan decides to live a complete love story in three days.
However, this German character is very, even too "clean"; it almost resembles a soldier from an American film... But that in no way detracts from the beauty of this story and the experience that E.M. Remarque offers.
February 25, 2018
Teleportive WWII novel, top-notch dramatization of the complexity of humanity, formal and thematic excellence throughout. It's about a German soldier who leaves the Russian front during WWII as the tide is turning for the Nazis and goes on furlough to his home city for a few weeks. He can't find his parents in the bombed-out ruins and runs into an old classmate, a comely young woman, and falls in love as, every few days, air raid sirens sound and buildings rise into the air as all hell breaks loose. A completely absorbing reading experience, couldn't put it down, woke up early to read with coffee, that sort of book. Few reviews on here in English -- many in Arabic, Russian, and maybe Romanian. My third novel by this author and I have another coming tomorrow.
Super-conventional form perfectly done, always patiently pushing ahead, therefore it feels like an organic/natural/real (ie, not imposed by the author) plot, the procession of days as a solider's on leave for a few weeks "between death and death," the first bloom of love as everything around the lovers not so much withers as it explodes and incinerates; everything super-charged by the potential arrival of devastation from above, the inevitability of horror ("a howl arose, increasing until it became maddening and unbearable, as though a huge steel planet were plunging straight at the cellar") and gruesome scenes of, for example, a five-year-old girl impaled on a shattered staircase. Streaks of gnarly description, always utilitarian and accessible prose, never clipped or degraded or showy -- the tone is perfectly centrist, flowing, poetic at times, but best of all it disappears and yields to visions of this shattered German city, its inhabitants trying to survive, everyone living not so much under the thumb of the Nazis but more so under the rule of Luck. As with his famous WWI novel and every other WWII- and Holocaust-related novel or memoir I've read, survival always depends on luck.
But this earns the full five stars more so because it so naturally detonates Literature's primary payload: it dramatizes the complexity of humanity more clearly than most novels I've read. Not all Germans are anti-Semitic monsters intent on taking over the world and eradicating their racial inferiors. The novel depicts arch-evil types, superhuman thoughtless automaton murderers in the S.S., as well as devastated, philosophical citizens who hide Jews — and other well-characterized characters most concerned with self-preservation during the worst of times. Toward the end, it's impossible not to root for the hero Ernst even though he's fighting with the Nazis -- he's an absolutely 3D sympathetic free-thinking human being in an extraordinarily difficult situation trying to stay focused and survive even as the guts of a new recruit splatter all over him after catching a flung grenade in the stomach.
Everyone's read All Quiet on the Western Front but it seems like few have read the author's other novels, most of which were semi-recently re-published in attractive modern paperback form. The title of this one probably in part accounts for it being previously totally unknown to me -- it seems like an Ian Fleming/James Bond ripoff by way of The Byrds' appropriation of biblical verses. Alternate titles could have been "Switzerland" (not reduced to rubble and therefore often mentioned as an ideal place to escape to, although it seems impossible to get to), "An Eden in Hell" (good assonance, bad pun -- suggests a few of the spots where Ernst and Elisabeth take mental, spiritual, physical refuge and just live a normal life for a few moments), "Shelter from the Storm" (novel was published in 1957, pre-dates Dylan's song by almost two decades) -- the actual title seems a little too sentimental and monumental, a little too B-movie?
Here's a fantastic passage where our hero Ernst and his future wife Elisabeth are sitting on a hill in a wooded area where the trees are covered in strips of tin foil that fall before air raids to jam and distort radio transmissions: "The trees around the clearing were covered with strips that fluttered from their twigs, twisting and sparkling in the breeze. The sun broke through the mountainous clouds and transformed the woods into a glittering fairyland. What once had fluttered down in the midst of ravening death and the shrill noise of destruction now hung silent and shiny on the trees and had become silver and a shimmering and the memory of childhood stories and the great festival of peace."
"Oh man" I said as I finished it, but I don't want to spoil the end for anyone.
Super-conventional form perfectly done, always patiently pushing ahead, therefore it feels like an organic/natural/real (ie, not imposed by the author) plot, the procession of days as a solider's on leave for a few weeks "between death and death," the first bloom of love as everything around the lovers not so much withers as it explodes and incinerates; everything super-charged by the potential arrival of devastation from above, the inevitability of horror ("a howl arose, increasing until it became maddening and unbearable, as though a huge steel planet were plunging straight at the cellar") and gruesome scenes of, for example, a five-year-old girl impaled on a shattered staircase. Streaks of gnarly description, always utilitarian and accessible prose, never clipped or degraded or showy -- the tone is perfectly centrist, flowing, poetic at times, but best of all it disappears and yields to visions of this shattered German city, its inhabitants trying to survive, everyone living not so much under the thumb of the Nazis but more so under the rule of Luck. As with his famous WWI novel and every other WWII- and Holocaust-related novel or memoir I've read, survival always depends on luck.
But this earns the full five stars more so because it so naturally detonates Literature's primary payload: it dramatizes the complexity of humanity more clearly than most novels I've read. Not all Germans are anti-Semitic monsters intent on taking over the world and eradicating their racial inferiors. The novel depicts arch-evil types, superhuman thoughtless automaton murderers in the S.S., as well as devastated, philosophical citizens who hide Jews — and other well-characterized characters most concerned with self-preservation during the worst of times. Toward the end, it's impossible not to root for the hero Ernst even though he's fighting with the Nazis -- he's an absolutely 3D sympathetic free-thinking human being in an extraordinarily difficult situation trying to stay focused and survive even as the guts of a new recruit splatter all over him after catching a flung grenade in the stomach.
Everyone's read All Quiet on the Western Front but it seems like few have read the author's other novels, most of which were semi-recently re-published in attractive modern paperback form. The title of this one probably in part accounts for it being previously totally unknown to me -- it seems like an Ian Fleming/James Bond ripoff by way of The Byrds' appropriation of biblical verses. Alternate titles could have been "Switzerland" (not reduced to rubble and therefore often mentioned as an ideal place to escape to, although it seems impossible to get to), "An Eden in Hell" (good assonance, bad pun -- suggests a few of the spots where Ernst and Elisabeth take mental, spiritual, physical refuge and just live a normal life for a few moments), "Shelter from the Storm" (novel was published in 1957, pre-dates Dylan's song by almost two decades) -- the actual title seems a little too sentimental and monumental, a little too B-movie?
Here's a fantastic passage where our hero Ernst and his future wife Elisabeth are sitting on a hill in a wooded area where the trees are covered in strips of tin foil that fall before air raids to jam and distort radio transmissions: "The trees around the clearing were covered with strips that fluttered from their twigs, twisting and sparkling in the breeze. The sun broke through the mountainous clouds and transformed the woods into a glittering fairyland. What once had fluttered down in the midst of ravening death and the shrill noise of destruction now hung silent and shiny on the trees and had become silver and a shimmering and the memory of childhood stories and the great festival of peace."
"Oh man" I said as I finished it, but I don't want to spoil the end for anyone.
November 2, 2023
عشق در حوالی مرگ :
شاید اگر این��ونه در رخوت و افسردگی هستیم، بخاطر این است که در همهچیز میانمایه هستیم. نه این نه آن. نه بالا نه پایین. نه از چیزی دفاع میکنیم نه برای چیزی میجنگیم. شاید بخاطر همین است که زندگی بیشتر در دو حالت رخ میدهد. نمود پیدا میکند. زمانی که همهچیز دارید و زمانی که هیچچیز ندارید. شاید همین عبارت دم را غنیمت دانستن برای زمانی است که دیگر چیزی برای از دست دادن نداریم.
سرباز خط مقدم، پس از دو سال آدمکشی و دوری از خانه، فرصت یک مرخصی دو هفتهای را به دست میآورد تا بلکه بتواند دوباره پدر و مادرش را ببیند. دیدن خانهی بمباران شده و عشقی که در پی آن میآید و تصمیم به زندگی یا عزاداری در طی همان دو هفتهای که در جنگ نیستی، موضوعی است که رمارک آن را دستمایهی داستان خود برای نشان دادن و به چالش کشیدن احساسات انسانی و تبعات جنگ و ویرانی قرار داده است. و البته عشق که حتی در ویرانهها نیز میتوان ردی از آن یافت.
برخلاف در غرب خبری نیست، به وقت عشق و مرگ علیرغم پایان تراژیکش رمان امیدوارتری است. البته که رمارک هم خوانندهی خود را سادهلوح نمیپندارد و در پس این داستان کمی امیدبخش، خرده داستانهای سربازهای دیگر و خانوادهشان را روایت میکند و خواننده میفهمد و میداند که همه به یک اندازه خوششانس نیستند.
جدای از هر بحث دیگری، باید از وهمی که این کتاب به جان مخاطبش میاندازد هم سخن گفت. ترسی که به مرور جای خود را به یک هشدار و در ادامه به اندیشهی کارآمد میدهد. تصویر جنگ در این کتاب بدین گونه است که چگونه همهچیز در یک لحظه، در چشم به هم زدنی نابود میشود. بدون مقدمهچینی و هشدار. اما به مرور به جای آنکه مخاطب شکرگزار وضعیت الانش باشد که در دورهی جنگ به سر نمیبرد، به این نتیجه میرسد که چگونه میتوان از همهچیز کند و دم را دریافت، تا وقتی که مرگ میآید چیز زیادی نباشد که بتواند با خود ببرد.
با این همه دچار شعار و گلدرشتی و خوشبینی ابلهانه نیست و هیچگاه از واقعیت و انسانیت دور نمیشود. پس میتوان آنرا به رغم موضوع حساسش که همواره در معرض دمدستی شدن و شعاری شدن قرار دارد، نمونهی موفق و تاثیرگذار ادبی دانست که هیچوقت از ریتم نایستاد.
پ.ن: حداقلِ انتظار مخاطبی که چنین مبلغ بالایی برای این کتاب میپردازد، ترجمهی خوب و متنی ویراسته است که بنظر من ترجمهای متوسط و ویراستاری بسیار بدی داشت. دیالوگها همسان نبودند و زبان متن گاهی دچار پستی و بلندی میشد. با اینهمه غیرقابل خوانش هم نیست اگر چندان حساسیت به خرج ندهید.
شاید اگر این��ونه در رخوت و افسردگی هستیم، بخاطر این است که در همهچیز میانمایه هستیم. نه این نه آن. نه بالا نه پایین. نه از چیزی دفاع میکنیم نه برای چیزی میجنگیم. شاید بخاطر همین است که زندگی بیشتر در دو حالت رخ میدهد. نمود پیدا میکند. زمانی که همهچیز دارید و زمانی که هیچچیز ندارید. شاید همین عبارت دم را غنیمت دانستن برای زمانی است که دیگر چیزی برای از دست دادن نداریم.
سرباز خط مقدم، پس از دو سال آدمکشی و دوری از خانه، فرصت یک مرخصی دو هفتهای را به دست میآورد تا بلکه بتواند دوباره پدر و مادرش را ببیند. دیدن خانهی بمباران شده و عشقی که در پی آن میآید و تصمیم به زندگی یا عزاداری در طی همان دو هفتهای که در جنگ نیستی، موضوعی است که رمارک آن را دستمایهی داستان خود برای نشان دادن و به چالش کشیدن احساسات انسانی و تبعات جنگ و ویرانی قرار داده است. و البته عشق که حتی در ویرانهها نیز میتوان ردی از آن یافت.
برخلاف در غرب خبری نیست، به وقت عشق و مرگ علیرغم پایان تراژیکش رمان امیدوارتری است. البته که رمارک هم خوانندهی خود را سادهلوح نمیپندارد و در پس این داستان کمی امیدبخش، خرده داستانهای سربازهای دیگر و خانوادهشان را روایت میکند و خواننده میفهمد و میداند که همه به یک اندازه خوششانس نیستند.
جدای از هر بحث دیگری، باید از وهمی که این کتاب به جان مخاطبش میاندازد هم سخن گفت. ترسی که به مرور جای خود را به یک هشدار و در ادامه به اندیشهی کارآمد میدهد. تصویر جنگ در این کتاب بدین گونه است که چگونه همهچیز در یک لحظه، در چشم به هم زدنی نابود میشود. بدون مقدمهچینی و هشدار. اما به مرور به جای آنکه مخاطب شکرگزار وضعیت الانش باشد که در دورهی جنگ به سر نمیبرد، به این نتیجه میرسد که چگونه میتوان از همهچیز کند و دم را دریافت، تا وقتی که مرگ میآید چیز زیادی نباشد که بتواند با خود ببرد.
با این همه دچار شعار و گلدرشتی و خوشبینی ابلهانه نیست و هیچگاه از واقعیت و انسانیت دور نمیشود. پس میتوان آنرا به رغم موضوع حساسش که همواره در معرض دمدستی شدن و شعاری شدن قرار دارد، نمونهی موفق و تاثیرگذار ادبی دانست که هیچوقت از ریتم نایستاد.
پ.ن: حداقلِ انتظار مخاطبی که چنین مبلغ بالایی برای این کتاب میپردازد، ترجمهی خوب و متنی ویراسته است که بنظر من ترجمهای متوسط و ویراستاری بسیار بدی داشت. دیالوگها همسان نبودند و زبان متن گاهی دچار پستی و بلندی میشد. با اینهمه غیرقابل خوانش هم نیست اگر چندان حساسیت به خرج ندهید.
March 9, 2024
Un roman ca acesta te face să te întrebi ce e greșit la oameni. Scena de final mi s-a părut cam forțată, adică dacă ar fi fost în alte împrejurări ar fi avut mai multă greutate. Oricum, romanul e o forță.
March 6, 2016
– Jūs šypsotės, – tarė jis, – Ir esat toks ramus. Kodėl nerėkiate?
– Aš rėkiu, – atsakė Greberis. – Tik jūs negirdite.
– Aš rėkiu, – atsakė Greberis. – Tik jūs negirdite.
April 29, 2021
Voi continua să afirm că nimeni nu scrie despre război așa cum o face E. M. Remarque. Volumul acesta se axează mai mult pe viața omului de rând, prins în mrejile războiului în spatele tranșeilor, văzută prin ochii unui soldat venit în permisie. Soroc de viață și soroc de moarte arată multitudinea de fețe pe care le poartă războiul și evidențiază suferința individuală într-o mare de suferință colectivă.
De foarte mult timp nu am mai citit o carte care să mă distrugă în totalitate - iar E. M. Remarque rămâne a fi unul dintre autorii mei preferați din toate timpurile.
Recenzia, pe canal.
De foarte mult timp nu am mai citit o carte care să mă distrugă în totalitate - iar E. M. Remarque rămâne a fi unul dintre autorii mei preferați din toate timpurile.
Recenzia, pe canal.
March 25, 2016
للحب وقت وللموت وقت – إريش ماريا ريمارك
هي سابع رواية لريمارك وقد صدرت عام 1954 وهي ثاني رواية أقرأها له بعد "كل شيء هاديء في الجبهة الغربية" ولم تخرج هذه عن موضوع تلك: "الحرب وأهوالها" لكنها اختلفت في الظروف والأحداث رغم أنها تحمل رسالة مشابهة.
تتحدث هذه الرواية عن الجندي جريبر وهو جندي ألماني يحارب على الجبهة الشرقية في روسيا في الحرب العالمية الثانية ويبدو أن الزمن هو ما بين 1943-1944 حيث بدأت تتوالى الهزائم الألمانية على جميع الجبهات.
لم يختلف الأسلوب عما كان عليه في "كل شيء هاديء في الجبهة الشرقية" وظل ذلك الحس الإنساني هو ما يقود يد ريمارك في السرد مع كل كلمة. حيث نجد في نهاية الأمر مدى عبثية الحرب والحياة عموماً في ظل الحرب.
استلهم ريمارك العنوان من وصايا سليمان الحكيم في سفر الجامعة من العهد القديم حيث جاء فيه: لكل شيء زمان، ولكل أمر تحت السماوات وقت: للولادة وقت وللموت وقت، للغرس وقت وللقلع وقت. للقتل وقت، وللشفاء وقت. للهدم وقت، وللبناء وقت. للبكاء وقت، وللضحك وقت. للنوح وقت، وللرقص وقت. للكسب وقت، وللخسارة وقت. للسكوت وقت، وللتكلم وقت. للحب وقت، وللبغض وقت. للحرب وقت، وللصلح وقت. فأي منفعة لمن يتعب مما يتعب به ؟
ونلاحظ مما جاء في الإصحاح المقتبس؛ أن كل عبارة كانت تجمع بين نقيضين. بينما جاء العنوان ليس كإقتباس حرفي منه. بل جاء: للحب وقت، وللموت وقت. مما يوحي إن رجعنا لقياس الأمر على ما جاء في الإصحاح بأن الحب هو نقيض الموت. ومن السياق الموجود في الرواية لا يمكننا أن نرى شيئاُ آخر في الحرب عدا الموت. وعندها يصبح جلياً لنا أن الحب هي بشكل ما نقيض الحرب كذلك.
جاء الرواية في ثلاثة أقسام تقريباً قسمت على 29 فصلاً. جاء القسم الأول في الجبهة وكانت البداية في إكتشاف جثة جندي ألمانية كانت مدفونة تحت الثلج وظهرت للعيان بعد أن بدأ الثلج في الذوبان. ويمتد هذا القسم إلى أن حصل جريبر على الإجازة التي جاء على ذكرها في سياق القسم. ثم كان القسم الثاني في رحلة العودة للوطن والحياة هناك. حيث رجع جريبر إلى مدينة فيردين الموجودة في شمال وسط ألمانيا وقريباً من بريمن. وهي بعيدة جداً عن الجبهة وتجتاج الرحلة إلى يومين. وهناك كان متوقعاً أن يجد والديه إلا أنه رجع وفوجيء بأن الوطن لم يعد آمناً على الإطلاق. فهو يتعرض إلى غارات جوية عنيفة كل يومين تقريباً وقد دمر بيت والديه ولم يجدهما في أي مكان. ثم يأتي الحديث عن لقائه بإليزابيث؛ ابنة طبيب كان يعرفه وذهب إلى بيته للسؤال عن ذويه. ومن المفارقات اللطيفة أن جريبر لم يكن يحب إليزابيث عندما كانا طفلين. بينما الآن، وبعد كل الأهوال التي يراها الإثنان في الحرب يبدو أمراً حتمياً أن يحبا بعضهما ثم يتزوجا في إجازته القصيرة جداً والتي لم تتجاوز ثلاثة أسابيع. وقد أمضى منها الأسبوع الأول في البحث عن ذويه. أي أنه لم يقض معها سوى أسبوعين فقط؛ أحبها وتزوجها فيها ! أخيراً يأتي القسم الثالث، حيث يعود جريبر للحرب وكأنه لم يغادرها. ليجد الجبهة قد تقهقرت أكثر من 200 كيلومتر منذ أن كان فيها آخر مرة. ومن الملاحظ أن وصف المعارك في هذا القسم الأخير كان رهيباً.
لا يمكنني هنا أن أتجاهل التعليق على بعض النقاط:
مهما كانت معرفتنا كمدنيين بالحرب، لا يمكننا أن نتخيل أهوالها. ومهما خاض جندي حرباً ما فإنه لم يعرف أهوال الحرب العالمية الثانية وبالأخص، الجبهة الشرقية. وقد كان ريمارك مذهلاً في وصف ما كان هناك. هذا الكم الهائل من جثث الجنود والمدنيين. فحتى ألمانيا وإن لم تكن الجيوش البرية قد وصلتها بعد فإنها لم تسلم من الدمار.. ولم يسلم من نارها المدنيون حتى الأطفال. ويحضرني مشهد الطفلة التي مر إلى جوارها جريبر وهي تحمل أختها الرضيعة بينما تقع فيردين تحت رحمة غارة جوية. ولم يلبث جريبر أن شاهدها بعد أن رماه إنفجار قذيفة قريبة أمتاراً عن المكان وقد تعلقت في جدار مهدوم شبه مصلوبة مما يشير إلى مفارقة صلب المسيح.. وقد اخترقها الحديد من بطنها ويجعلها مثبتة في الجدار. هذه الطفلة البريئة المصلوبة هي رمز صلب البراءة والرحمة وكل شيء جميل من قبل الحرب المجنونة التي لا تميز أحداً عن أحد.
أثناء حرب مجنونة، تختلف معايير الحياة. فليس مهماً نوعية الحياة التي تعيشها. بل يكفيك أن تبقى حياً. وأي رمز للحياة قد يكون أكثر قيمة من الطعام أو أن يكون الجندي مع إمرأة ! حقيقةً، لم يكن ممكناً لي أن أفهم هذا الشيء قبل قراءتي لهذه الرواية. فلم تكن علاقة جريبر بإليزابيث حباً بالمفهوم الذي نعرفه. بل كانت ضرورة حتمية لهما كرمز لكونهما أحياء. ويحضرني هنا شخصية بوتشر الذي ظل طوال إجازته يبحث عن زوجته "المربوعة" والتي كان يقول عنها انها تمتلك مؤخرة كمؤخرة "الحصان" وقد عبر صراحة أن هذا هو ما يعجبه فيها. وأن العاهرات المتوفرات لا يثرنه بمثل هذه النحولة المنفرة –وهي تبدو منفرة له فقط، ولم يشتكِ أحد سواه من ذلك- وقد قاده ذلك بأن أقام علاقة مع صاحبة الحانة التي كانت مربوعة أيضاً والمفاجأة هنا أنه عندما وجد أخيراً زوجته تخرج من معسكر إعتقال قريب كانت فيه. وكانت نحيلة للغاية لم يتعرف إليها أولاً ثم نفر لهذا التغير المفاجيء في شكلها. وأعرب لزملائه الجنود عن خيبته الشديدة مما حدث مع زوجته وأنه مضطر للإبقاء على علاقته بصاحبة الحانة المربوعة بل إنه قام بهجر زوجته دون أن يقول شيئاً فقط لأنها فقدت وزنها وبالتالي مؤخرتها التي تشبه مؤخرة الحصان ! قد تبدو مثل هذه الأمور لنا سطحية وسخيفة للغاية. لكنها ليست كذلك على الإطلاق بالنسبة إليه.
ويحضرني أيضاً، شخوص المتعصبين للحزب كالتي استأجرت في بيت إليزابيث بالقوة ثم كتبت تقريراً في أبيها الطبيب ليتم أخذه لمعسكرات الإعتقال ويتم تسليم رماد جثته لجريبر فيما بعد. وأعجبتني تلك المفارقة اللطيفة عن خادمي الكنيسة حيث يكون العجوز شخصاً رحيماً كما يتطلب عمله في الكنيسة أن يكون بينما كان الخادم الشاب متعصباً في خدمة الرب.. فيما لا يشكل فرقاً كبيراً عن تلك الجارة وأمثالها. وتوجد كذلك شخصية بولمان المدرس المنبوذ المثقف الذي يعي تماماً المصيبة التي تحل في بلاده دون أن يملك أن يفعل شيئاً سوى إنقاذ يهودي من الموت.. ويتم إعتقال بولمان فيما بعد. حتى جريبر يعي تماماً تلك المصيبة وهو يعي أيضاً أنه يحارب في حرب خاسرة لا محالة.. وكل ما يملك أن يفعله هو الرجوع للجبهة للقتال كي يكسب هؤلاء المتعصبون المزيد من الوقت في الحكم.
لفتتني حكاية الجندي الذي كان مع جريبر في قطار العودة إلى ألمانيا من أجل الإجازة والذي كان يشكو لزملائه من خيانة زوجته له وأنها أنجبت طفلاً أثناء غيابه. وأن أمه تشك أن هذا الطفل هو ابن أحد الأسرى الروس في ألمانيا. وكيف كان تعليق زملائه على الموضوع؛ حيث قال بعضهم أن هكذا يحدث دوماً فبعض الزوجات تنتظر، وبعضهن لا ينتظر. تستقيم هذه المفارقة مع سياق الرواية ككل. ويظل خيار الجندي مطروحاً: هل سيقبل بهذا الطفل الروسي كابن له ويربيه ؟ أم سيرفضه ويرفض أمه ؟
وأخيراً، هناك الجندي الألماني شتاين برنر وهو رمز للجندي الألماني المتعصب. رمز للنازي على الجبهة. الذي لا يتوانى عن اغتصاب الروسيات وإعدام المدنيين دون أي تأنيب للضمير. ويبرز في أواخر الرواية ذلك الصدام بين جريبر وبين هذا الجندي. ثم تبرز أخيراً العبثية لتطل برأسها الثقيل حين يقوم الروس الذين اعتقد جريبر أنهم مدنيون واصطدم بشتاين برنر من أجلهم ليقتلوه في نهاية الأمر. هو مشهد سريالي ساخر بامتياز.
يحسب لريمارك أنه لم يشعرنا أنه منحاز لأيديولوجيا معينة.. وكان توجهه إنسانياً حتى آخر كلمة.
من الصعب على المرء أن يتفهم كل هذه المتناقضات الموجودة في الرواية، لقد نجح ريمارك تماماً في تقديم مشهد مروع عن الحرب ولربما الحياة في بعض أشكالها. ولا يسعني أن أقول هنا سوى أنها مشهد سيظل عالقاً طويلاً في ذاكرتي.
هي سابع رواية لريمارك وقد صدرت عام 1954 وهي ثاني رواية أقرأها له بعد "كل شيء هاديء في الجبهة الغربية" ولم تخرج هذه عن موضوع تلك: "الحرب وأهوالها" لكنها اختلفت في الظروف والأحداث رغم أنها تحمل رسالة مشابهة.
تتحدث هذه الرواية عن الجندي جريبر وهو جندي ألماني يحارب على الجبهة الشرقية في روسيا في الحرب العالمية الثانية ويبدو أن الزمن هو ما بين 1943-1944 حيث بدأت تتوالى الهزائم الألمانية على جميع الجبهات.
لم يختلف الأسلوب عما كان عليه في "كل شيء هاديء في الجبهة الشرقية" وظل ذلك الحس الإنساني هو ما يقود يد ريمارك في السرد مع كل كلمة. حيث نجد في نهاية الأمر مدى عبثية الحرب والحياة عموماً في ظل الحرب.
استلهم ريمارك العنوان من وصايا سليمان الحكيم في سفر الجامعة من العهد القديم حيث جاء فيه: لكل شيء زمان، ولكل أمر تحت السماوات وقت: للولادة وقت وللموت وقت، للغرس وقت وللقلع وقت. للقتل وقت، وللشفاء وقت. للهدم وقت، وللبناء وقت. للبكاء وقت، وللضحك وقت. للنوح وقت، وللرقص وقت. للكسب وقت، وللخسارة وقت. للسكوت وقت، وللتكلم وقت. للحب وقت، وللبغض وقت. للحرب وقت، وللصلح وقت. فأي منفعة لمن يتعب مما يتعب به ؟
ونلاحظ مما جاء في الإصحاح المقتبس؛ أن كل عبارة كانت تجمع بين نقيضين. بينما جاء العنوان ليس كإقتباس حرفي منه. بل جاء: للحب وقت، وللموت وقت. مما يوحي إن رجعنا لقياس الأمر على ما جاء في الإصحاح بأن الحب هو نقيض الموت. ومن السياق الموجود في الرواية لا يمكننا أن نرى شيئاُ آخر في الحرب عدا الموت. وعندها يصبح جلياً لنا أن الحب هي بشكل ما نقيض الحرب كذلك.
جاء الرواية في ثلاثة أقسام تقريباً قسمت على 29 فصلاً. جاء القسم الأول في الجبهة وكانت البداية في إكتشاف جثة جندي ألمانية كانت مدفونة تحت الثلج وظهرت للعيان بعد أن بدأ الثلج في الذوبان. ويمتد هذا القسم إلى أن حصل جريبر على الإجازة التي جاء على ذكرها في سياق القسم. ثم كان القسم الثاني في رحلة العودة للوطن والحياة هناك. حيث رجع جريبر إلى مدينة فيردين الموجودة في شمال وسط ألمانيا وقريباً من بريمن. وهي بعيدة جداً عن الجبهة وتجتاج الرحلة إلى يومين. وهناك كان متوقعاً أن يجد والديه إلا أنه رجع وفوجيء بأن الوطن لم يعد آمناً على الإطلاق. فهو يتعرض إلى غارات جوية عنيفة كل يومين تقريباً وقد دمر بيت والديه ولم يجدهما في أي مكان. ثم يأتي الحديث عن لقائه بإليزابيث؛ ابنة طبيب كان يعرفه وذهب إلى بيته للسؤال عن ذويه. ومن المفارقات اللطيفة أن جريبر لم يكن يحب إليزابيث عندما كانا طفلين. بينما الآن، وبعد كل الأهوال التي يراها الإثنان في الحرب يبدو أمراً حتمياً أن يحبا بعضهما ثم يتزوجا في إجازته القصيرة جداً والتي لم تتجاوز ثلاثة أسابيع. وقد أمضى منها الأسبوع الأول في البحث عن ذويه. أي أنه لم يقض معها سوى أسبوعين فقط؛ أحبها وتزوجها فيها ! أخيراً يأتي القسم الثالث، حيث يعود جريبر للحرب وكأنه لم يغادرها. ليجد الجبهة قد تقهقرت أكثر من 200 كيلومتر منذ أن كان فيها آخر مرة. ومن الملاحظ أن وصف المعارك في هذا القسم الأخير كان رهيباً.
لا يمكنني هنا أن أتجاهل التعليق على بعض النقاط:
مهما كانت معرفتنا كمدنيين بالحرب، لا يمكننا أن نتخيل أهوالها. ومهما خاض جندي حرباً ما فإنه لم يعرف أهوال الحرب العالمية الثانية وبالأخص، الجبهة الشرقية. وقد كان ريمارك مذهلاً في وصف ما كان هناك. هذا الكم الهائل من جثث الجنود والمدنيين. فحتى ألمانيا وإن لم تكن الجيوش البرية قد وصلتها بعد فإنها لم تسلم من الدمار.. ولم يسلم من نارها المدنيون حتى الأطفال. ويحضرني مشهد الطفلة التي مر إلى جوارها جريبر وهي تحمل أختها الرضيعة بينما تقع فيردين تحت رحمة غارة جوية. ولم يلبث جريبر أن شاهدها بعد أن رماه إنفجار قذيفة قريبة أمتاراً عن المكان وقد تعلقت في جدار مهدوم شبه مصلوبة مما يشير إلى مفارقة صلب المسيح.. وقد اخترقها الحديد من بطنها ويجعلها مثبتة في الجدار. هذه الطفلة البريئة المصلوبة هي رمز صلب البراءة والرحمة وكل شيء جميل من قبل الحرب المجنونة التي لا تميز أحداً عن أحد.
أثناء حرب مجنونة، تختلف معايير الحياة. فليس مهماً نوعية الحياة التي تعيشها. بل يكفيك أن تبقى حياً. وأي رمز للحياة قد يكون أكثر قيمة من الطعام أو أن يكون الجندي مع إمرأة ! حقيقةً، لم يكن ممكناً لي أن أفهم هذا الشيء قبل قراءتي لهذه الرواية. فلم تكن علاقة جريبر بإليزابيث حباً بالمفهوم الذي نعرفه. بل كانت ضرورة حتمية لهما كرمز لكونهما أحياء. ويحضرني هنا شخصية بوتشر الذي ظل طوال إجازته يبحث عن زوجته "المربوعة" والتي كان يقول عنها انها تمتلك مؤخرة كمؤخرة "الحصان" وقد عبر صراحة أن هذا هو ما يعجبه فيها. وأن العاهرات المتوفرات لا يثرنه بمثل هذه النحولة المنفرة –وهي تبدو منفرة له فقط، ولم يشتكِ أحد سواه من ذلك- وقد قاده ذلك بأن أقام علاقة مع صاحبة الحانة التي كانت مربوعة أيضاً والمفاجأة هنا أنه عندما وجد أخيراً زوجته تخرج من معسكر إعتقال قريب كانت فيه. وكانت نحيلة للغاية لم يتعرف إليها أولاً ثم نفر لهذا التغير المفاجيء في شكلها. وأعرب لزملائه الجنود عن خيبته الشديدة مما حدث مع زوجته وأنه مضطر للإبقاء على علاقته بصاحبة الحانة المربوعة بل إنه قام بهجر زوجته دون أن يقول شيئاً فقط لأنها فقدت وزنها وبالتالي مؤخرتها التي تشبه مؤخرة الحصان ! قد تبدو مثل هذه الأمور لنا سطحية وسخيفة للغاية. لكنها ليست كذلك على الإطلاق بالنسبة إليه.
ويحضرني أيضاً، شخوص المتعصبين للحزب كالتي استأجرت في بيت إليزابيث بالقوة ثم كتبت تقريراً في أبيها الطبيب ليتم أخذه لمعسكرات الإعتقال ويتم تسليم رماد جثته لجريبر فيما بعد. وأعجبتني تلك المفارقة اللطيفة عن خادمي الكنيسة حيث يكون العجوز شخصاً رحيماً كما يتطلب عمله في الكنيسة أن يكون بينما كان الخادم الشاب متعصباً في خدمة الرب.. فيما لا يشكل فرقاً كبيراً عن تلك الجارة وأمثالها. وتوجد كذلك شخصية بولمان المدرس المنبوذ المثقف الذي يعي تماماً المصيبة التي تحل في بلاده دون أن يملك أن يفعل شيئاً سوى إنقاذ يهودي من الموت.. ويتم إعتقال بولمان فيما بعد. حتى جريبر يعي تماماً تلك المصيبة وهو يعي أيضاً أنه يحارب في حرب خاسرة لا محالة.. وكل ما يملك أن يفعله هو الرجوع للجبهة للقتال كي يكسب هؤلاء المتعصبون المزيد من الوقت في الحكم.
لفتتني حكاية الجندي الذي كان مع جريبر في قطار العودة إلى ألمانيا من أجل الإجازة والذي كان يشكو لزملائه من خيانة زوجته له وأنها أنجبت طفلاً أثناء غيابه. وأن أمه تشك أن هذا الطفل هو ابن أحد الأسرى الروس في ألمانيا. وكيف كان تعليق زملائه على الموضوع؛ حيث قال بعضهم أن هكذا يحدث دوماً فبعض الزوجات تنتظر، وبعضهن لا ينتظر. تستقيم هذه المفارقة مع سياق الرواية ككل. ويظل خيار الجندي مطروحاً: هل سيقبل بهذا الطفل الروسي كابن له ويربيه ؟ أم سيرفضه ويرفض أمه ؟
وأخيراً، هناك الجندي الألماني شتاين برنر وهو رمز للجندي الألماني المتعصب. رمز للنازي على الجبهة. الذي لا يتوانى عن اغتصاب الروسيات وإعدام المدنيين دون أي تأنيب للضمير. ويبرز في أواخر الرواية ذلك الصدام بين جريبر وبين هذا الجندي. ثم تبرز أخيراً العبثية لتطل برأسها الثقيل حين يقوم الروس الذين اعتقد جريبر أنهم مدنيون واصطدم بشتاين برنر من أجلهم ليقتلوه في نهاية الأمر. هو مشهد سريالي ساخر بامتياز.
يحسب لريمارك أنه لم يشعرنا أنه منحاز لأيديولوجيا معينة.. وكان توجهه إنسانياً حتى آخر كلمة.
من الصعب على المرء أن يتفهم كل هذه المتناقضات الموجودة في الرواية، لقد نجح ريمارك تماماً في تقديم مشهد مروع عن الحرب ولربما الحياة في بعض أشكالها. ولا يسعني أن أقول هنا سوى أنها مشهد سيظل عالقاً طويلاً في ذاكرتي.
April 23, 2022
Moving, heartfelt, thought provoking writing that grips you to the core—that is what is delivered here in this book. If I had to pick one author as being my favorite, I think it might be Erich Maria Remarque!
A German soldier in the Second World War, returns home on a long awaited and many time postponed leave after two years of combat on the front in Africa and now most recently in Russia. Fearing that his leave would again be postponed, he has not informed his parents. He does not want to raise their hopes. On return he finds their house bombed and his parents gone. Chaos reigns. Difficulties arise in determining if his parents are dead or alive.
There is the gist of the story, but there is much, much more. It looks at human emotions, motivations and the choices we make. It throws off that which lies on the surface and goes to the core. It is a manifesto against war.
The writing is what makes for me the story special--alternately beautiful, honest and wise. It focuses upon the destruction, horror and pointlessness of war. Don’t expect easy reading. Sections are extremely difficult. The horror is lightened by a love affair and the importance, the value of what is often considered small and unimportant incidents. The wonder and beauty of the night sky, a simple vegetable soup, quiet and stillness and individuals, guided by strong morals who behave admirably but also unobtrusively and without fanfare—these are the elements that keep the reader from drowning in despair. The prose, beautiful in all its simplicity, balances good and bad, ups and downs realistically.
I like viewing the war from the German soldiers’ side. In this way, the universality of human emotions comes to the fore.
The ending is as it should be. Beautiful but realistic at the same time.
There is a scene where the central character strides through a room of amputees. It makes you think, feel and experience each individual’s thoughts and emotions. It focuses your attention on what you might not normally think about.
Truths are revealed about human behavior, both the good and the bad. This is achieved through the prose. You read the lines, ponder and think about the author’s choice of words. The lines benefit from being read multiple times. Each reading gives you something new.
Here follow a few lines, so you can taste the prose:
After the war, we are now “old and cynical without the experience of age.”
“To ask someone else means to evade a decision.”
“An old soldier’s rule: When there is nothing you can do, don’t get excited.”
“I wanted to have someone to hold me, but I didn’t realize that would make me doubly vulnerable.”
“If you make no demands, everything is a gift.”
The prose is simple and straightforward. There is wisdom and food for thought.
The audiobook is narrated by MacLeod Andrews. Both the writing and the narration are emotive. They do in this way fit each other. The narrator’s dramatization, particularly at the start, was too much for me. The lines themselves are sufficiently powerful, making further emphasis unnecessary. A listener is thrown between screaming and whispering. The volume is at times hard to set. I am not one who loves dramatization by readers of audiobooks. This is why I have reduced the rating of the narration to four stars. I listened at 90% speed, but I usually do. I want to savor every word. I want to have time to think. The point isn’t for me to get rapidly to a book’s end.
I highly recommend this book and the author’s other works.
****************
*All Quiet on the Western Front 5 stars
*A Time to Love and a Time to Die 5 stars
*Three Comrades 5 stars
*Arch of Triumph: A Novel of a Man Without a Country 4 stars
*The Road Back 4 stars
*The Black Obelisk TBR
*The Night in Lisbon TBR
A German soldier in the Second World War, returns home on a long awaited and many time postponed leave after two years of combat on the front in Africa and now most recently in Russia. Fearing that his leave would again be postponed, he has not informed his parents. He does not want to raise their hopes. On return he finds their house bombed and his parents gone. Chaos reigns. Difficulties arise in determining if his parents are dead or alive.
There is the gist of the story, but there is much, much more. It looks at human emotions, motivations and the choices we make. It throws off that which lies on the surface and goes to the core. It is a manifesto against war.
The writing is what makes for me the story special--alternately beautiful, honest and wise. It focuses upon the destruction, horror and pointlessness of war. Don’t expect easy reading. Sections are extremely difficult. The horror is lightened by a love affair and the importance, the value of what is often considered small and unimportant incidents. The wonder and beauty of the night sky, a simple vegetable soup, quiet and stillness and individuals, guided by strong morals who behave admirably but also unobtrusively and without fanfare—these are the elements that keep the reader from drowning in despair. The prose, beautiful in all its simplicity, balances good and bad, ups and downs realistically.
I like viewing the war from the German soldiers’ side. In this way, the universality of human emotions comes to the fore.
The ending is as it should be. Beautiful but realistic at the same time.
There is a scene where the central character strides through a room of amputees. It makes you think, feel and experience each individual’s thoughts and emotions. It focuses your attention on what you might not normally think about.
Truths are revealed about human behavior, both the good and the bad. This is achieved through the prose. You read the lines, ponder and think about the author’s choice of words. The lines benefit from being read multiple times. Each reading gives you something new.
Here follow a few lines, so you can taste the prose:
After the war, we are now “old and cynical without the experience of age.”
“To ask someone else means to evade a decision.”
“An old soldier’s rule: When there is nothing you can do, don’t get excited.”
“I wanted to have someone to hold me, but I didn’t realize that would make me doubly vulnerable.”
“If you make no demands, everything is a gift.”
The prose is simple and straightforward. There is wisdom and food for thought.
The audiobook is narrated by MacLeod Andrews. Both the writing and the narration are emotive. They do in this way fit each other. The narrator’s dramatization, particularly at the start, was too much for me. The lines themselves are sufficiently powerful, making further emphasis unnecessary. A listener is thrown between screaming and whispering. The volume is at times hard to set. I am not one who loves dramatization by readers of audiobooks. This is why I have reduced the rating of the narration to four stars. I listened at 90% speed, but I usually do. I want to savor every word. I want to have time to think. The point isn’t for me to get rapidly to a book’s end.
I highly recommend this book and the author’s other works.
****************
*All Quiet on the Western Front 5 stars
*A Time to Love and a Time to Die 5 stars
*Three Comrades 5 stars
*Arch of Triumph: A Novel of a Man Without a Country 4 stars
*The Road Back 4 stars
*The Black Obelisk TBR
*The Night in Lisbon TBR
January 7, 2025
Докато четях, мислех защо по едно време тази книга не ми харесва толкова, колкото останалите на Ремарк. Ама хубаво помислих - ,,Мансардата на бляновете" за мен беше за мечтатели; след ,,На западния фронт нищо ново" мислих като майка и съпруга - просто наистина нямаме представа колко трябва да се радваме в какво време живеем - имаме мъже, имаме деца и имаме огромното щастие да ги прегърнем вечер, затрупани сме от техника и можем по всякакъв начин да общуваме с най-близките си същества; след ,,Черният обелиск" мислих като човек - там дни наред се занимавах с важни житейски теми - приказвах си сама, опонирах си, намирах ,,и тако, и вако" на нещата, кимах, съгласявах се...; след ,,Живот назаем" мислих колко кратък е животът и дали въобще намираме време да мислим по този въпрос; след ,,Искрица живот" се поразрових в учебниците по история и изгледах няколко филма за нацистите, спомних си и за всички мои познати, които съм чувала да казват: ,,Той, Хитлер, да беше жив..." и се потрисах.
,,Трима другари" беше май сравнително нежна, но пак някак наситена с коравата част на живота, а ,,Нощ в Лисабон" е книгата, която ме хвана за ръчичка и ме поведе в цялата тази одисея.
И след като се замислих за всичко това, разбрах защо имаше момент, в който тази книга уж не ми хареса - защото се оказа много ледена. Защото тук любовта е проста, тук любовта изобщо не е капризна, не е вълнообразна, не е пъстра, не е дори страстна. Тук просто е любов, каквато ние трудно можем да оценим, а войната е сурова. Много сурова. По-сурова е от ,,На западния фронт", по-цветна е някак си и същевременно още в началото те кара да стиснеш зъби, защото знаеш къде може да те отведе творчеството на Ремарк.
Спомних си за едни лекции по психология, в които един доктор каза: ,,Всички ще умрем, много ясно, няма да живеем с орлите, но не може да седнем ей тъй на един стол и да чакаме". Ама някои от нас го порязаха, че може, но само ако пред стола има маса с ядене и пиене. :D
Няма лоша книга на Ремарк, има различна. Тази е различна. Дори не е и тъжна, просто е студена.
Продължавам със ,,Сенки в рая".
,,Трима другари" беше май сравнително нежна, но пак някак наситена с коравата част на живота, а ,,Нощ в Лисабон" е книгата, която ме хвана за ръчичка и ме поведе в цялата тази одисея.
И след като се замислих за всичко това, разбрах защо имаше момент, в който тази книга уж не ми хареса - защото се оказа много ледена. Защото тук любовта е проста, тук любовта изобщо не е капризна, не е вълнообразна, не е пъстра, не е дори страстна. Тук просто е любов, каквато ние трудно можем да оценим, а войната е сурова. Много сурова. По-сурова е от ,,На западния фронт", по-цветна е някак си и същевременно още в началото те кара да стиснеш зъби, защото знаеш къде може да те отведе творчеството на Ремарк.
Спомних си за едни лекции по психология, в които един доктор каза: ,,Всички ще умрем, много ясно, няма да живеем с орлите, но не може да седнем ей тъй на един стол и да чакаме". Ама някои от нас го порязаха, че може, но само ако пред стола има маса с ядене и пиене. :D
Няма лоша книга на Ремарк, има различна. Тази е различна. Дори не е и тъжна, просто е студена.
Продължавам със ,,Сенки в рая".
December 11, 2022
Kiedyś powiedziałam, że Remarque ma talent do pisania smutnie pięknych książek i nadal tak uważam.
July 16, 2025
Remarque scrie cel mai bine despre război și cred că nu mai are nevoie de nicio prezentare...
Am luat cartea asta anul trecut, puțin înainte de începerea războiul din Ucraina, nu am putut să o încep, a fost ca o intervenție chirurgicala amânată iar și iar, nu voiam sa aud de asemenea orori, m-am ascuns de tot, de mine însămi și de tot ca într-un buncăr al memoriei, departe de zgomotul luminilor adverse, doborâtoare...
Soroc de viață și soroc de moarte e o poveste simplă, despre război și dragoste, m-a surprins să regăsesc în cartea asta aspecte melodramatice pe care le uitasem demult, totul e derutant și lipsit de consecvență, tânărul Ernst Graeber primește după doi ani o permisie de a se întoarce acasă de pe front, în căutarea părinților și a casei sale, care e numai ruine astăzi, Ernst o cunoaște pe Elizabeth, între ei se înfiripa foarte repede o poveste de dragoste, m-a surprins alternanta acestor momente, adică protagonistul romanului e disperat să-și găsească părinții, dar totuși pare degajat și foarte îndrăgostit de proaspăta Elizabeth, cei doi par destul de compatibili în dialoguri și golesc sticlă după sticlă în camera Elizabethei, dar nu tot ce e ideal durează...pentru că unanim suntem sortiți eșecului...
Am așteptat întregul roman ca eroul să-și găsească părinții, nici vorbă de așa ceva, disperarea și-a luat avânt ca un tren-marfar scăpat de pe șine și m-a lovit visceral, o funie era cea potrivită în acest context apocaliptic, dar nu a mai apărut...
Nu știu cum a putut sa reziste protoganistul atât de mult în timp ce pământul îl acoperea din toate părțile și nu există nicio trecere dincolo pentru că totul părea venit din subteran...
Am apreciat stilul poetic a lui Remarque, cred că am continuat cartea mai mult pentru descrierile naturale, peisagistice, ce păreau că nu alterează memoria în niciun fel, erau libere de tranșee, unitare,
independente...
Problema mea e ca toate cărțile au o vârstă anumită când se citesc, și cred că pe asta am depășit-o deja, pot să o reamintesc din perspectiva unui lirism subiectiv ce tot stagnează în mine, dar nu pot să spun despre ea ca e una dintre cărțile mele preferate, poate că finalul ar fi trebuit să fie altfel, pentru mine care mă derută lucrurile efemere și prefer oricând "culmile" unei disperări statornice decât vârful unui extaz sintetic din care decazi fulgurant...
Am luat cartea asta anul trecut, puțin înainte de începerea războiul din Ucraina, nu am putut să o încep, a fost ca o intervenție chirurgicala amânată iar și iar, nu voiam sa aud de asemenea orori, m-am ascuns de tot, de mine însămi și de tot ca într-un buncăr al memoriei, departe de zgomotul luminilor adverse, doborâtoare...
Soroc de viață și soroc de moarte e o poveste simplă, despre război și dragoste, m-a surprins să regăsesc în cartea asta aspecte melodramatice pe care le uitasem demult, totul e derutant și lipsit de consecvență, tânărul Ernst Graeber primește după doi ani o permisie de a se întoarce acasă de pe front, în căutarea părinților și a casei sale, care e numai ruine astăzi, Ernst o cunoaște pe Elizabeth, între ei se înfiripa foarte repede o poveste de dragoste, m-a surprins alternanta acestor momente, adică protagonistul romanului e disperat să-și găsească părinții, dar totuși pare degajat și foarte îndrăgostit de proaspăta Elizabeth, cei doi par destul de compatibili în dialoguri și golesc sticlă după sticlă în camera Elizabethei, dar nu tot ce e ideal durează...pentru că unanim suntem sortiți eșecului...
Am așteptat întregul roman ca eroul să-și găsească părinții, nici vorbă de așa ceva, disperarea și-a luat avânt ca un tren-marfar scăpat de pe șine și m-a lovit visceral, o funie era cea potrivită în acest context apocaliptic, dar nu a mai apărut...
Nu știu cum a putut sa reziste protoganistul atât de mult în timp ce pământul îl acoperea din toate părțile și nu există nicio trecere dincolo pentru că totul părea venit din subteran...
Am apreciat stilul poetic a lui Remarque, cred că am continuat cartea mai mult pentru descrierile naturale, peisagistice, ce păreau că nu alterează memoria în niciun fel, erau libere de tranșee, unitare,
independente...
Problema mea e ca toate cărțile au o vârstă anumită când se citesc, și cred că pe asta am depășit-o deja, pot să o reamintesc din perspectiva unui lirism subiectiv ce tot stagnează în mine, dar nu pot să spun despre ea ca e una dintre cărțile mele preferate, poate că finalul ar fi trebuit să fie altfel, pentru mine care mă derută lucrurile efemere și prefer oricând "culmile" unei disperări statornice decât vârful unui extaz sintetic din care decazi fulgurant...
May 10, 2017
Why is this not as popular as All Quiet on the Western Front? Like All Quiet, it's about a young German soldier in WWII, but this one has a great love story and was three times more pleasurable for me. *note* Don't read this if you're a recovering alcoholic because on every page, someone is drinking something.
update: Oops, I mean WWI.
update: Oops, I mean WWI.
March 27, 2013
Последната книга, която Ремарк пише. Темата – позната до болка и негова любима. Война, живот извън рационалното, копнеж по обикновеното и моментната среща на двама души в средата на разрухата.
Факт е, че стилът на Ремарк не се отличава с лекота. Думите лежат сковано, дървено върху листа, обаче под грубата рамка има ужасно много нежност, която да се вземе. И нежност, и рани, и болка, и оптимизъм. Краят е предвидим, но и друг не би бил възможен.
Простичките описания на нещо толкова неразбираемо за нас, разглезените деца на спокойствието, като войната, бомбард��ровките, животът във вечен страх, животът като борба и животът като копнеж по тихото ежедневие, бръкват дълбоко в съзнанието.
Всъщност, струва ми се, че духът на книгата и на описваното в нея, се съдържа в следния мъничък, незабележим цитат: „Това беше една невероятна нощ, предразполагаща към мечти и подходяща за въздушно нападание”. Събиране на несъбираемото. Помиряване на непримиримото. Мечти и разруха, неотделими.
И още две извадки (от десетките, които си подчертах):
„ – Сега вече имаме всичко – каза Елизабет. – Луна, градина, една хубава вечеря зад нас и цялата вечер пред нас. Толкова е хубаво, че е почти непоносимо.
- Така са живели хората преди. И не са намирали нищо особено в това.”
„Той разбра, че всичко е всъщност еднакво – заминаването и връщането, присъствието и отсъствието, животът и смъртта, миналото и бъдещето, и че винаги и навсякъде каменното лице на вечността ще бъде тук и че с нищо не може да бъде премахнато (…)”
П.П. Обаче наред с големите теми, Ремарк определено има особената слабост да описва как героите му непрестанно си пийват нещо. На всеки две страници изниква по някоя бутилка водка, вино или бира, а Гребер и Елизабет така сладко я споделят, че дори на мен, рядко пиещата алкохол, ми се искаше да си налея чаша червено вино прекалено често, докато четях.
Факт е, че стилът на Ремарк не се отличава с лекота. Думите лежат сковано, дървено върху листа, обаче под грубата рамка има ужасно много нежност, която да се вземе. И нежност, и рани, и болка, и оптимизъм. Краят е предвидим, но и друг не би бил възможен.
Простичките описания на нещо толкова неразбираемо за нас, разглезените деца на спокойствието, като войната, бомбард��ровките, животът във вечен страх, животът като борба и животът като копнеж по тихото ежедневие, бръкват дълбоко в съзнанието.
Всъщност, струва ми се, че духът на книгата и на описваното в нея, се съдържа в следния мъничък, незабележим цитат: „Това беше една невероятна нощ, предразполагаща към мечти и подходяща за въздушно нападание”. Събиране на несъбираемото. Помиряване на непримиримото. Мечти и разруха, неотделими.
И още две извадки (от десетките, които си подчертах):
„ – Сега вече имаме всичко – каза Елизабет. – Луна, градина, една хубава вечеря зад нас и цялата вечер пред нас. Толкова е хубаво, че е почти непоносимо.
- Така са живели хората преди. И не са намирали нищо особено в това.”
„Той разбра, че всичко е всъщност еднакво – заминаването и връщането, присъствието и отсъствието, животът и смъртта, миналото и бъдещето, и че винаги и навсякъде каменното лице на вечността ще бъде тук и че с нищо не може да бъде премахнато (…)”
П.П. Обаче наред с големите теми, Ремарк определено има особената слабост да описва как героите му непрестанно си пийват нещо. На всеки две страници изниква по някоя бутилка водка, вино или бира, а Гребер и Елизабет така сладко я споделят, че дори на мен, рядко пиещата алкохол, ми се искаше да си налея чаша червено вино прекалено често, докато четях.
August 2, 2023
There was nothing that one could rely on; nothing that offered warmth.
*
The past. There's nothing we can do with it. It simply weighs us down. Even what was good in it. We must begin again. The past is bankrupt. We can't go back.
*
The realization that they would have to part had struck in front of him like a dark meteor. He had known it all the time, the way one knows many things—without actually realizing them or completely feeling them. There had always been so much in between. Now all at once it was there by itself, big and full of a chill horror, and it was radiating a pale, penetrating, skeletonizing light —like X-rays that pierce through the charm and magic of life, leaving nothing but the bare residue and the inevitable.
*
At night one is what he was intended to be; not what he has become.
*
Nothing was there but the clear pain of loss. It was a loss forever. Nowhere was there a bridge. He had had it and it was lost. He listened inward. Somewhere there must still be a voice; an echo of hope must still linger somewhere. But he found nothing. There were only emptiness and nameless pain.
*
Suddenly everything seemed very strange and all connections dissolved. Graeber knew the feeling; he had often had it when he woke up at night not knowing where he was. It was as if he had fallen out of the world and floated in complete loneliness in the dark. It never lasted long. One always found one's way back; but each time a strange small feeling persisted that some day one would not find the way back.
*
He felt Elisabeth's letters in his pocket. Warmth was in them, tenderness and the sweet excitement of love. But they were no quiet lamp to light a well-ordered house; they were will-o'-the-wisps above a swamp, and the farther he tried to follow them the more treacherous the swamp seemed to become. He had wanted to put up a light in order to find his way back, but he had put it up before the house was built. He had placed it in a ruin; it did not adorn it, it only made it more desolate. Back there he had not known. He had followed the light without question, wanting to believe that to follow it was enough. It was not enough.
He had fought against this realization as long as he could. It had not been easy to see that what he had hoped would hold him and support him had only isolated him. It could not extend far enough. It touched his heart but it did not hold him. It was swallowed up; it was a small, private happiness that could not support itself in the limitless morass of general misery and despair. He took out Elisabeth's letters and read them, and the red afterglow of sunset lay on the pages. He knew them by heart; he read them once more, and again they made him more lonesome than before. It had been too short and the other was too long. It had been a furlough; but a soldier's life is reckoned by his time at the front and not by furloughs.
*
The past. There's nothing we can do with it. It simply weighs us down. Even what was good in it. We must begin again. The past is bankrupt. We can't go back.
*
The realization that they would have to part had struck in front of him like a dark meteor. He had known it all the time, the way one knows many things—without actually realizing them or completely feeling them. There had always been so much in between. Now all at once it was there by itself, big and full of a chill horror, and it was radiating a pale, penetrating, skeletonizing light —like X-rays that pierce through the charm and magic of life, leaving nothing but the bare residue and the inevitable.
*
At night one is what he was intended to be; not what he has become.
*
Nothing was there but the clear pain of loss. It was a loss forever. Nowhere was there a bridge. He had had it and it was lost. He listened inward. Somewhere there must still be a voice; an echo of hope must still linger somewhere. But he found nothing. There were only emptiness and nameless pain.
*
Suddenly everything seemed very strange and all connections dissolved. Graeber knew the feeling; he had often had it when he woke up at night not knowing where he was. It was as if he had fallen out of the world and floated in complete loneliness in the dark. It never lasted long. One always found one's way back; but each time a strange small feeling persisted that some day one would not find the way back.
*
He felt Elisabeth's letters in his pocket. Warmth was in them, tenderness and the sweet excitement of love. But they were no quiet lamp to light a well-ordered house; they were will-o'-the-wisps above a swamp, and the farther he tried to follow them the more treacherous the swamp seemed to become. He had wanted to put up a light in order to find his way back, but he had put it up before the house was built. He had placed it in a ruin; it did not adorn it, it only made it more desolate. Back there he had not known. He had followed the light without question, wanting to believe that to follow it was enough. It was not enough.
He had fought against this realization as long as he could. It had not been easy to see that what he had hoped would hold him and support him had only isolated him. It could not extend far enough. It touched his heart but it did not hold him. It was swallowed up; it was a small, private happiness that could not support itself in the limitless morass of general misery and despair. He took out Elisabeth's letters and read them, and the red afterglow of sunset lay on the pages. He knew them by heart; he read them once more, and again they made him more lonesome than before. It had been too short and the other was too long. It had been a furlough; but a soldier's life is reckoned by his time at the front and not by furloughs.
January 2, 2008
This book was quite amazing. It is from the viewpoint of a Nazi soldier who gets to go home from war. He finds out that things home are terrible, everything is turned upside down. He falls in love and among the chaos there are moments of peace and beauty. There is amazing social commentary on concepts such as collective guilt, our responsibility to standing up to evil and war. The ending of the book is quite haunting and i cant wait to read more of his books
May 28, 2023
Am văzut în acest volum mai multe lucruri: un roman al soldatului de pe front care nu găsește niciun sens în război, un roman al războiului din spatele frontului, și un roman de dragoste în vreme de război. Aceste trei romane se ivesc treptat, unul după celălalt, ca să se întrepătrundă mai apoi. La urma urmei, este vorba despre același război care le cuprinde pe toate, demonstrând că războiul are mult mai multe fețe decât putem crede.
În iarna/primăvara lui 1944, Ernst Graeber e undeva pe frontul de est, în permanentă retragere. Cât e iarnă, cadavrele, pe mai multe straturi, în dependență de bătăliile care s-au dat, sunt acoperite de zăpadă. La venirea primăverii, omătul se topește, iar cadavrele, fie că sunt ale nemților, fie ale rușilor trebuie îngropate, altfel put. Azi se ivește o mână, mâine un picior, poimâine întreg cadavrul. Zilele trec așteptând noi ordine și săpând gropi. Uneori, când cei cu săpatul au noroc, mai prind niște partizani, care sunt puși să sape gropi, inclusiv pe-ale lor.
Graeber primește, după doi ani și aproape nesperat, o permisie. Se grăbește să plece, înainte să se schimbe ordinele. Călătorește câteva zile cu gândul la mâncare făcută de maică-sa, la tot felul de bunătăți pe care nici nu a îndrăznit să le viseze de când a plecat la război, luptând pe mai multe fronturi, ajungând din deșerturile Africii până în stepele înghețate ale Rusiei. Ajuns acasă descoperă frontul din spatele frontului. Orașul său este bombardat constant. Oamenii își duc existența inventariind adăposturi, îndepărtând ruine pentru a ajunge la cadavre, căutând un loc unde să doarmă sau o masă pe cartelă. Casa lui părintească nu mai există. Părinții lui sunt de negăsit. Încearcă să dea de ei, pe la cunoștințe, spitale, evidența populației, cimitire, dar fără succes. Toți sunt paranoici.
În timpul căutărilor, dă peste Elisabeth, fiica doctorului de familie, dispărut și el, într-un lagăr. La o a doua întâlnire cu ea, începe să observe cât e de frumoasă. Cei doi se îndrăgostesc și trăiesc, timp de două săptămâni, o adevărată poveste de iubire, la viteza corespunzătoare realității că nu au prea mult timp la dispoziție.
Între timp, Ernst dă și de un fost coleg, ajuns un fel de șef în ierarhia nazistă locală, care trăiește extrem de bine, de parcă Germania nu s-ar afla în vreun război, profitând pe deplin de autoritatea și puterea pe care le are. De la acest coleg, Ernst se aprovizionează cu băutură și mâncare, fără vreun fel de rușine, pentru că pe front mânca numai supă chioară de varză. Se mai vede și cu un fost profesor, dat afară de la școală, urmărit de Gestapo. Cu el discută de câteva ori despre război în termeni critici – pagini chiar foarte interesante care arată dilema celor rămași acasă, părerea de rău că au stat și acceptat și că nu mai pot face nimic acum.
După cele trei săptămâni de permisie, dintre care două de dragoste, Graeber trebuie să plece. Se întoarce pe front unde zi de zi, în așteptarea păcii sau a capitulării iminente, mor în noroi mii și mii de tineri, cei mai mulți dintre ei abia veniți pentru a-i înlocui pe cei dinainte, morți. Romanele lui Remarque nu au niciodată final fericit.
A fost o lectură frumoasă și frustrantă. Nu prea am citit literatură despre război din perspectiva germană. Am descoperit aici, deși îmi era clar și înainte, că războiul e aproape la fel pentru toți. Mor și de o parte și de alta. De ambele părți, atunci când se năruiesc iluzii sau victoria promisă nu mai vine, apar vocile critice. Soldații descoperă primii că războiul nu are vreun sens. Ei sunt primii care-și pierd speranța și primii care nu mai văd rostul să continue. O fac, însă, pentru că nu știu altceva. Dacă nu o fac, îi așteaptă SS-ul și batalioanele disciplinare din spate.
Remarque, chiar dacă scrie despre moarte, o face foarte viu. Scrisul lui e plin de viață. Astfel, tot ce scrie e ușor de recunoscut și de înțeles. E ușor să empatizezi cu personajele pentru că îți dai seama că sunt oameni la fel ca tine și toate fricile lor sunt sau ar putea fi fricile tale.
4,5/5
Mai trebuie să spun că romanul are un paragraf de început extraordinar.
În iarna/primăvara lui 1944, Ernst Graeber e undeva pe frontul de est, în permanentă retragere. Cât e iarnă, cadavrele, pe mai multe straturi, în dependență de bătăliile care s-au dat, sunt acoperite de zăpadă. La venirea primăverii, omătul se topește, iar cadavrele, fie că sunt ale nemților, fie ale rușilor trebuie îngropate, altfel put. Azi se ivește o mână, mâine un picior, poimâine întreg cadavrul. Zilele trec așteptând noi ordine și săpând gropi. Uneori, când cei cu săpatul au noroc, mai prind niște partizani, care sunt puși să sape gropi, inclusiv pe-ale lor.
Graeber primește, după doi ani și aproape nesperat, o permisie. Se grăbește să plece, înainte să se schimbe ordinele. Călătorește câteva zile cu gândul la mâncare făcută de maică-sa, la tot felul de bunătăți pe care nici nu a îndrăznit să le viseze de când a plecat la război, luptând pe mai multe fronturi, ajungând din deșerturile Africii până în stepele înghețate ale Rusiei. Ajuns acasă descoperă frontul din spatele frontului. Orașul său este bombardat constant. Oamenii își duc existența inventariind adăposturi, îndepărtând ruine pentru a ajunge la cadavre, căutând un loc unde să doarmă sau o masă pe cartelă. Casa lui părintească nu mai există. Părinții lui sunt de negăsit. Încearcă să dea de ei, pe la cunoștințe, spitale, evidența populației, cimitire, dar fără succes. Toți sunt paranoici.
În timpul căutărilor, dă peste Elisabeth, fiica doctorului de familie, dispărut și el, într-un lagăr. La o a doua întâlnire cu ea, începe să observe cât e de frumoasă. Cei doi se îndrăgostesc și trăiesc, timp de două săptămâni, o adevărată poveste de iubire, la viteza corespunzătoare realității că nu au prea mult timp la dispoziție.
Între timp, Ernst dă și de un fost coleg, ajuns un fel de șef în ierarhia nazistă locală, care trăiește extrem de bine, de parcă Germania nu s-ar afla în vreun război, profitând pe deplin de autoritatea și puterea pe care le are. De la acest coleg, Ernst se aprovizionează cu băutură și mâncare, fără vreun fel de rușine, pentru că pe front mânca numai supă chioară de varză. Se mai vede și cu un fost profesor, dat afară de la școală, urmărit de Gestapo. Cu el discută de câteva ori despre război în termeni critici – pagini chiar foarte interesante care arată dilema celor rămași acasă, părerea de rău că au stat și acceptat și că nu mai pot face nimic acum.
După cele trei săptămâni de permisie, dintre care două de dragoste, Graeber trebuie să plece. Se întoarce pe front unde zi de zi, în așteptarea păcii sau a capitulării iminente, mor în noroi mii și mii de tineri, cei mai mulți dintre ei abia veniți pentru a-i înlocui pe cei dinainte, morți. Romanele lui Remarque nu au niciodată final fericit.
A fost o lectură frumoasă și frustrantă. Nu prea am citit literatură despre război din perspectiva germană. Am descoperit aici, deși îmi era clar și înainte, că războiul e aproape la fel pentru toți. Mor și de o parte și de alta. De ambele părți, atunci când se năruiesc iluzii sau victoria promisă nu mai vine, apar vocile critice. Soldații descoperă primii că războiul nu are vreun sens. Ei sunt primii care-și pierd speranța și primii care nu mai văd rostul să continue. O fac, însă, pentru că nu știu altceva. Dacă nu o fac, îi așteaptă SS-ul și batalioanele disciplinare din spate.
Remarque, chiar dacă scrie despre moarte, o face foarte viu. Scrisul lui e plin de viață. Astfel, tot ce scrie e ușor de recunoscut și de înțeles. E ușor să empatizezi cu personajele pentru că îți dai seama că sunt oameni la fel ca tine și toate fricile lor sunt sau ar putea fi fricile tale.
— Mâncarea se distribuie în baraca numărul trei, glăsui în cele din urmă jandarmul cel mai în vârstă. Și mai dați jos jegul de pe voi. Arătați ca niște porci. În halul ăsta vreți să vă faceți intrarea în patrie?
Grupul se îndreptă spre baraca numărul trei.
— Copoi împuțiți! scrâșni un soldat negricios, cu fața numai tuleie. Gură mare, dar la căldurică, departe de front! Și se dau la ni de parcă am fi tâlhari!
— La Stalingrad au împușcat zeci de inși, luând drept dezertori niște oameni care doar se pierduseră de regimentele lor, zise altul.
— Ai fost la Stalingrad?
— Dacă aș fi fost, nu mai eram acum aici. Din încercuirea de acolo n-a scăpat nimeni.
— Ascultă, băiețaș, i-o tăie un subofițer mai în vârstă. Pe front ești liber să spui ce poftești. Aici e însă altceva. Așa că, de acum încolo, ai face mai bine să-ți strunești melița, dacă ții la pielea ta, înțeles?
— Rușii nu sunt arieni! sări deodată unul șobolănos, cu fața țuguiată și cu gura mică și care până atunci tăcuse.
Toți se uitară la el.
— Ba te înșeli, ripostă chelbosul. Rușii sunt arieni. La un moment dat au fost chiar aliați cu noi.
— Sunt ființe inferioare; bolșevicii sunt de rasă inferioară. Nicidecum arieni. Așa sună dispozițiile.
— Greșești. Polonezii, cehii și francezii sunt de rasă inferioară. Pe ruși îi dezrobim de sub jugul comuniștilor. Sunt arieni puri. Cu excepția comuniștilor, bineînțeles. Poate că nu sunt arieni de rasă superioară, ca noi, dar nu-i stârpim.
„Șobolanul” rămase buimac.
— Rușii au fost totdeauna oameni de rasă inferioară, articulă el. O știu bine. Oameni de cea mai categorică rasă inferioară.
— Asta s-a schimbat de mult. Ca și cu japonezii. De când s-au aliat cu noi în război, sunt și ei arieni. Arieni de culoare galbenă.
— Vă înșelați amândoi, se amestecă unul cu voce de bas și cu corpul teribil de păros. Rușii n-au fost de rasă inferioară câtă vreme erau aliații noștri, dar acum sunt. Așa stau lucrurile.
— Noi nu suntem martiri. Iar eu vreau să știu: unde începe complicitatea? replică Graeber. Vreau să știu: când devine crimă ceea ce se cheamă altfel eroism? Atunci când nu mai credem substratul eroismului – sau în finalitatea lui? Unde e hotarul?
— Un copil? Ar crește tocmai bine pentru un viitor război, așa cum am crescut noi pentru războiul ăsta. Gândește-te numai la mizeria ce-l așteaptă după ce se va naște!
4,5/5
Mai trebuie să spun că romanul are un paragraf de început extraordinar.
January 4, 2022
وقتی کتاب رو دیدم، بینهایت از اسمش خوشم اومد. دلم میخواست که کتاب زیبایی باشه.
بهتر از انتظارم بود. بعد از مدتها داستانی خوندم که تونستم درونش غرق بشم.
اما ترجمهش ضعیف بود. و ناامیدکنندهترین ویراستاریِ جهان رو داشت.
بهتر از انتظارم بود. بعد از مدتها داستانی خوندم که تونستم درونش غرق بشم.
اما ترجمهش ضعیف بود. و ناامیدکنندهترین ویراستاریِ جهان رو داشت.
December 31, 2023
Are you responsible for the evil in the world? Is it enough to reject wrongdoing in your heart or should you act to stop it?
Is redemption possible?
Is redemption possible?
October 15, 2020
I loved his “All quiet on western front”. But it was written by a younger Erich, pacifist and sad but also boyish. This is older Remarque’s writing, the writer who lived in exile and whose sister was beheaded by Nazis because they could not get to him, it has such an all-encompassing feeling of melancholy that punches me in the gut. This is such a beautiful but also quiet book filled with desperation, desire to live and a beautiful love story.
“Sometimes when you see how we are destroying Russia you could get scared. What do you think they would do to us if they got across our border? Have you ever thought about that?”
***
“What else might happen to you?” “Nothing much. At most a couple of weeks’ arrest. That would be a couple of weeks of rest. Almost like a furlough. When you have to be back at the front in about two weeks there’s not much that can scare you.”
***
You were young and they poisoned you with lies before you had learned to judge. But we—we saw it and let it happen! What caused it? Hardness of heart? Indifference? Poverty? Egoism? Despair? And how could it become such a plague? Do you suppose that I don’t think about it every day?”
***
Pohlmann smiled. “You are right. But there has never been a tyranny that lasted. Humanity has not advanced in an even course. It has always been only by thrusts, jerks, relapses, and spasms.
“Sometimes when you see how we are destroying Russia you could get scared. What do you think they would do to us if they got across our border? Have you ever thought about that?”
***
“What else might happen to you?” “Nothing much. At most a couple of weeks’ arrest. That would be a couple of weeks of rest. Almost like a furlough. When you have to be back at the front in about two weeks there’s not much that can scare you.”
***
You were young and they poisoned you with lies before you had learned to judge. But we—we saw it and let it happen! What caused it? Hardness of heart? Indifference? Poverty? Egoism? Despair? And how could it become such a plague? Do you suppose that I don’t think about it every day?”
***
Pohlmann smiled. “You are right. But there has never been a tyranny that lasted. Humanity has not advanced in an even course. It has always been only by thrusts, jerks, relapses, and spasms.
March 5, 2021
3.5|5
This wasn’t bad at all, just a little too long. Definitely worth the read.
This wasn’t bad at all, just a little too long. Definitely worth the read.
July 18, 2025
"Soroc de viață și soroc de moarte"
Erich Maria Remarque!
👉Sunt exact 75 de ani de la încheierea celei de-a doua deflagrații militare mondiale, însă urmările ei sunt vizibile și astăzi, cicatricile încă dor. Nu ne putem desprinde de cei aproape 6 ani de chinuri și nu cred că ne vom lăsa de asta curând, unele evenimente din istorie ne vor urmări încă mult timp, în special, cele care au adus multă suferință și pierderi.
Războiul, această temă, este omniprezentă în lucrările lui Remarque, iar "Soroc de viață și soroc de moarte" nu este o excepție.
Ernst Graeber este antrenat pe câmpul de luptă în îndepărtata și friguroasa Rusie. Prin mila cerului primește o permisie scurtă, în care speră să își revadă părinții. Revenirea acasă i se ivea în vise ca o oază de liniște și civilizație, însă s-a trezit în ruinele orașului în care a crescut. Printre casele bombardate și drumurile dispărute, Ernst descoperă dragostea, înfruntă absurditatea unei ideologii putrede, acaparat de îndoieli, se simte înfrânt de frică, iar conștiința îi distruge rădăcinile credinței pe o avea și așa slabă.
Inevitabilul se va produce, moartea unei idei se va întâmpla, iar acest fapt va încununa opera printr-o serie de evenimente care au puterea unui defibrilator.
Remarque continuă să își dezvolte tema preferată, pentru că războiul descoperă adevărata esență a unei persoane. Pe câmpul de luptă devii totul sau nimic, rămâi orb sau accepți darul cu care suntem înzestrați de la naștere, să cunoaștem adevărul, dincolo de liniile inamicului.
Autorul este un ilustru în ale descrierii morții, atât de absurdă și lipsită de sens, de ea nu scapă nimeni. Dacă nu cunoașteți cum miroase sau cum arată moartea, citiți această carte. Mi-a adus aminte de "Hoțul de Cărți" (Monologul ei) și cartea Svetlanei Alekseievici, aici moartea o auzi în povestirile femeilor care au trecut prin WW2.
Împreună trecem prin așa stări ca înfrângerea, renunțările la vis, retragerea, zguduirea și acceptarea lui Remarque, care este sinonimul realității și a cuvintelor lipsite de epitete, hiperbole, metafore și tot ce ne duce în extreme emoționale.
Doar personaje adevarate, dialoguri care spun exact atât cât e nevoie, nu căutați pauze fără sens, fraze lacrimogene, dulce nu este, acea perioadă a șters acest cuvânt din vocabular.
💙 Ni s-a dăruit lumina și ea a făcut oameni din noi. Noi însă am ucis-o și am devenit iarăși troglodiți.
Polirom Moldova
#citimpentruschimbare #sorocdeviatasisorocdemoarte #Remarque
Erich Maria Remarque!
👉Sunt exact 75 de ani de la încheierea celei de-a doua deflagrații militare mondiale, însă urmările ei sunt vizibile și astăzi, cicatricile încă dor. Nu ne putem desprinde de cei aproape 6 ani de chinuri și nu cred că ne vom lăsa de asta curând, unele evenimente din istorie ne vor urmări încă mult timp, în special, cele care au adus multă suferință și pierderi.
Războiul, această temă, este omniprezentă în lucrările lui Remarque, iar "Soroc de viață și soroc de moarte" nu este o excepție.
Ernst Graeber este antrenat pe câmpul de luptă în îndepărtata și friguroasa Rusie. Prin mila cerului primește o permisie scurtă, în care speră să își revadă părinții. Revenirea acasă i se ivea în vise ca o oază de liniște și civilizație, însă s-a trezit în ruinele orașului în care a crescut. Printre casele bombardate și drumurile dispărute, Ernst descoperă dragostea, înfruntă absurditatea unei ideologii putrede, acaparat de îndoieli, se simte înfrânt de frică, iar conștiința îi distruge rădăcinile credinței pe o avea și așa slabă.
Inevitabilul se va produce, moartea unei idei se va întâmpla, iar acest fapt va încununa opera printr-o serie de evenimente care au puterea unui defibrilator.
Remarque continuă să își dezvolte tema preferată, pentru că războiul descoperă adevărata esență a unei persoane. Pe câmpul de luptă devii totul sau nimic, rămâi orb sau accepți darul cu care suntem înzestrați de la naștere, să cunoaștem adevărul, dincolo de liniile inamicului.
Autorul este un ilustru în ale descrierii morții, atât de absurdă și lipsită de sens, de ea nu scapă nimeni. Dacă nu cunoașteți cum miroase sau cum arată moartea, citiți această carte. Mi-a adus aminte de "Hoțul de Cărți" (Monologul ei) și cartea Svetlanei Alekseievici, aici moartea o auzi în povestirile femeilor care au trecut prin WW2.
Împreună trecem prin așa stări ca înfrângerea, renunțările la vis, retragerea, zguduirea și acceptarea lui Remarque, care este sinonimul realității și a cuvintelor lipsite de epitete, hiperbole, metafore și tot ce ne duce în extreme emoționale.
Doar personaje adevarate, dialoguri care spun exact atât cât e nevoie, nu căutați pauze fără sens, fraze lacrimogene, dulce nu este, acea perioadă a șters acest cuvânt din vocabular.
💙 Ni s-a dăruit lumina și ea a făcut oameni din noi. Noi însă am ucis-o și am devenit iarăși troglodiți.
Polirom Moldova
#citimpentruschimbare #sorocdeviatasisorocdemoarte #Remarque
May 20, 2025
Більше дописів та інфи в моєму авторському блозі - "Ласкаво просимо в Касл-Рок, штат Мен"
«Час жити і час помирати» Еріх Марії Ремарка – книга, яка захопила мене з першого слова і кожну вільну хвилинку я використовував для того, щоб скоріше її прочитати. Тому й вийшло, що зробив я це дуже швидко по теперішнім міркам.
Головний герой – простий німецький хлопчина, який потрапив у Вермахт ще на початку Другої Світової Війни. Тоді він був зовсім іншим – юним, впевненим в правоті Німеччини та її праві диктувати свої умови світу. Він пройшов через важкі бої у Європі, Африці та СРСР. Він відчув війну, її жорстокість та несправедливість, на власній шкурі. Він вбивав та виживав.
Він щасливчик. Йому вдалось в кривавому горнилі дожити до 1944 року. І от щастя – він отримує відпустку. На цілих 2 тижні. Додому, у Бремен, до батьків. Але що ж він там побачить? І чи вдасться йому відпочити та з новими силами повірити у Велику Німеччину?
Чому я витратив купу часу на те, щоб просто розповісти анотацію? Бо мені складно підібрати слова після прочитаного. Я можу сказати тільки одне – ця книга обов’язкова для прочитання.
В ній є все – реалії фронту та життя німецьких міст наприкінці війни, кохання та зрада, надія та апатія, життя та смерть. Причому останні тут йдуть нога в ногу, не відстаючи один від одного, будучи повноцінними персонажами, які боряться між собою.
Більше мені додати нічого. «Час жити і час помирати» потрапляє в топ топів прочитаного не тільки за останні роки, а й, напевно, за все життя.
«Час жити і час помирати» Еріх Марії Ремарка – книга, яка захопила мене з першого слова і кожну вільну хвилинку я використовував для того, щоб скоріше її прочитати. Тому й вийшло, що зробив я це дуже швидко по теперішнім міркам.
Головний герой – простий німецький хлопчина, який потрапив у Вермахт ще на початку Другої Світової Війни. Тоді він був зовсім іншим – юним, впевненим в правоті Німеччини та її праві диктувати свої умови світу. Він пройшов через важкі бої у Європі, Африці та СРСР. Він відчув війну, її жорстокість та несправедливість, на власній шкурі. Він вбивав та виживав.
Він щасливчик. Йому вдалось в кривавому горнилі дожити до 1944 року. І от щастя – він отримує відпустку. На цілих 2 тижні. Додому, у Бремен, до батьків. Але що ж він там побачить? І чи вдасться йому відпочити та з новими силами повірити у Велику Німеччину?
Чому я витратив купу часу на те, щоб просто розповісти анотацію? Бо мені складно підібрати слова після прочитаного. Я можу сказати тільки одне – ця книга обов’язкова для прочитання.
В ній є все – реалії фронту та життя німецьких міст наприкінці війни, кохання та зрада, надія та апатія, життя та смерть. Причому останні тут йдуть нога в ногу, не відстаючи один від одного, будучи повноцінними персонажами, які боряться між собою.
Більше мені додати нічого. «Час жити і час помирати» потрапляє в топ топів прочитаного не тільки за останні роки, а й, напевно, за все життя.
February 17, 2022
Qualcosa di nuovo sul fronte orientale
25 anni separano la pubblicazione di “Niente di nuovo sul fronte occidentale” (1929), l’opera più famosa di Eric Maria Remarque, da “Tempo di vivere tempo di morire” (1954), accomunato al predecessore quanto meno per il semplice ed ovvio motivo dell’essere imperniati ambedue sul tema della guerra.
Ma tanto il primo libro si concentra sul massacro della trincea così da rappresentare il manifesto più esplicito, essenziale e definitivo dell’assurdità di ogni conflitto e quindi candidarsi come uno dei capolavori del pacifismo, così nelle pagine (quasi il doppio…) di questo romanzo Remarque nutre l’ambizione di spaziare in tutti gli aspetti del tempo di guerra e, attraverso la tormentata e rivelatrice licenza del soldato Graeber, mostrare le catastrofiche ripercussioni materiali, morali e psicologiche nelle retrovie e sulla popolazione civile delle città tedesche, non dissimili dalle conseguenze sulle cittadine di ogni nazione europea.
Si percepisce facilmente la maggiore libertà di espressione dell’autore, che invece nel 1929, nel clima di fervore patriottico sul punto di sfociare nel nazionalsocialismo, mantenne un atteggiamento accorato ma non ancora improntato ad una esplicita denuncia, omissione che tuttavia non gli risparmiò la messa al bando e la censura del primo libro giacché la pura verità dei fatti produceva di per sé un effetto dirompente sul lettore tedesco (o italiano) assediato dalla propaganda nazifascista.
In “Tempo di vivere, tempo di morire” invece si respira ovunque un’atmosfera di rassegnata disillusione, i soldati al fronte, salvo qualche isolato fanatico, sono ormai consapevoli della rovinosa ritirata sul fronte russo, dell’approssimarsi della sconfitta, critici nei confronti dei privilegi che le SS e gli altri organi dell’apparato continuano a mantenere in contrasto con gli stenti e le privazioni cui sono sottoposti i fanti in prima fila decimati dall’artiglieria nemica e prendono coscienza di essere lo strumento di una folle distruzione che sta per ritorcersi su di essi e sul loro popolo.
Fra le due parentesi del prologo e dell’epilogo, che rimandano alle scene drammatiche di “Niente di nuovo sul fronte occidentale”, sta il nucleo principale ed originale del racconto: nell’agognata licenza del soldato Graeber, un temporaneo rientro alla cittadina natìa che si rivela una progressiva rivelazione dell’enorme divario, morale e materiale, fra la Germania narrata dagli ufficiali al fronte e il territorio reale devastato dai bombardamenti aerei e pervaso da corruzione, miseria e desolazione, dove tuttavia il protagonista riuscirà a ritagliarsi una breve benchè effimera parentesi d’amore e di speranza.
Pagine di intensa emozione descrivono il lento percorso del treno dal fronte russo alla Germania, con la crescente percezione da parte di Graeber della confusione e della distruzione che avvolgono la sua terra e i luoghi resi ormai irriconoscibili. “Tempo di vivere, tempo di morire” rappresenta la perfetta e necessaria conclusione della testimonianza espressa in “Niente di nuovo sul fronte occidentale”, ne approfondisce i temi e le riflessioni, la coscienza e il verdetto sull’orrore assoluto e ingiustificabile della guerra.
25 anni separano la pubblicazione di “Niente di nuovo sul fronte occidentale” (1929), l’opera più famosa di Eric Maria Remarque, da “Tempo di vivere tempo di morire” (1954), accomunato al predecessore quanto meno per il semplice ed ovvio motivo dell’essere imperniati ambedue sul tema della guerra.
Ma tanto il primo libro si concentra sul massacro della trincea così da rappresentare il manifesto più esplicito, essenziale e definitivo dell’assurdità di ogni conflitto e quindi candidarsi come uno dei capolavori del pacifismo, così nelle pagine (quasi il doppio…) di questo romanzo Remarque nutre l’ambizione di spaziare in tutti gli aspetti del tempo di guerra e, attraverso la tormentata e rivelatrice licenza del soldato Graeber, mostrare le catastrofiche ripercussioni materiali, morali e psicologiche nelle retrovie e sulla popolazione civile delle città tedesche, non dissimili dalle conseguenze sulle cittadine di ogni nazione europea.
Si percepisce facilmente la maggiore libertà di espressione dell’autore, che invece nel 1929, nel clima di fervore patriottico sul punto di sfociare nel nazionalsocialismo, mantenne un atteggiamento accorato ma non ancora improntato ad una esplicita denuncia, omissione che tuttavia non gli risparmiò la messa al bando e la censura del primo libro giacché la pura verità dei fatti produceva di per sé un effetto dirompente sul lettore tedesco (o italiano) assediato dalla propaganda nazifascista.
In “Tempo di vivere, tempo di morire” invece si respira ovunque un’atmosfera di rassegnata disillusione, i soldati al fronte, salvo qualche isolato fanatico, sono ormai consapevoli della rovinosa ritirata sul fronte russo, dell’approssimarsi della sconfitta, critici nei confronti dei privilegi che le SS e gli altri organi dell’apparato continuano a mantenere in contrasto con gli stenti e le privazioni cui sono sottoposti i fanti in prima fila decimati dall’artiglieria nemica e prendono coscienza di essere lo strumento di una folle distruzione che sta per ritorcersi su di essi e sul loro popolo.
Fra le due parentesi del prologo e dell’epilogo, che rimandano alle scene drammatiche di “Niente di nuovo sul fronte occidentale”, sta il nucleo principale ed originale del racconto: nell’agognata licenza del soldato Graeber, un temporaneo rientro alla cittadina natìa che si rivela una progressiva rivelazione dell’enorme divario, morale e materiale, fra la Germania narrata dagli ufficiali al fronte e il territorio reale devastato dai bombardamenti aerei e pervaso da corruzione, miseria e desolazione, dove tuttavia il protagonista riuscirà a ritagliarsi una breve benchè effimera parentesi d’amore e di speranza.
Pagine di intensa emozione descrivono il lento percorso del treno dal fronte russo alla Germania, con la crescente percezione da parte di Graeber della confusione e della distruzione che avvolgono la sua terra e i luoghi resi ormai irriconoscibili. “Tempo di vivere, tempo di morire” rappresenta la perfetta e necessaria conclusione della testimonianza espressa in “Niente di nuovo sul fronte occidentale”, ne approfondisce i temi e le riflessioni, la coscienza e il verdetto sull’orrore assoluto e ingiustificabile della guerra.
April 22, 2018
Frühjahr 1945: Ernst Graeber kehrt für drei Wochen von der russischen Front in seine Heimatstadt zurück. Das Wohnhaus seiner Eltern findet er von Bomben zerstört, während von ihnen jede Spur fehlt. Auf der Suche nach ihrem Schicksal trifft er alte Bekannte aus seiner Schulzeit wieder, darunter auch Elisabeth, deren Vater denunziert wurde und im Konzentrationslager gefangen gehalten wird. Zwischen Ernst und Elisabeth entspinnt sich eine Liebe von zwei jungen Menschen, durch den Krieg zu schnell erwachsen geworden und auf der Suche nach Sinn und etwas Leben.
Es wird wieder seine Zeit dauern, auch diesen Remarque zu verdauen. Sagenhaft und typisch, wie er den Leser zurück in den Krieg zieht und ihn bis zum Schluss nicht entkommen lässt, sondern ihn zum Bleiben zwingt.
Seine schnörkelfreie Erzählweise packt wie gewohnt. Sofort ist die Beziehung zu seinem Protagonisten und seiner Gedankenwelt da. Er analysiert (den) Krieg, stellt Fragen, findet Antworten und warnt die nachkommenden Generationen. Ein weiteres großes und wichtiges Buch aus seiner Feder!!!
Es wird wieder seine Zeit dauern, auch diesen Remarque zu verdauen. Sagenhaft und typisch, wie er den Leser zurück in den Krieg zieht und ihn bis zum Schluss nicht entkommen lässt, sondern ihn zum Bleiben zwingt.
Seine schnörkelfreie Erzählweise packt wie gewohnt. Sofort ist die Beziehung zu seinem Protagonisten und seiner Gedankenwelt da. Er analysiert (den) Krieg, stellt Fragen, findet Antworten und warnt die nachkommenden Generationen. Ein weiteres großes und wichtiges Buch aus seiner Feder!!!
March 7, 2024
یک پنجِ کلهگنده
امتیازی به درد و زخم
چیزیکه در کل رمان، بهجز صفحاتی معدود باهاش روبرو میشید حضورِ «نورِ». توصیف و احضار نور در روایت به اَشکالِ متفاوت. گاهی خود نور، گاهی شمهای از نور، گاهی انعکاس یک منور، گاهی آتشی رو به بالا (من اینجا به یاد کتاب روانکاوی آتش از گاستون باشلار افتادم) و استعلا که حکایت از انفجاری دردناک میده و برای غلبه بر تاریکی داره جون میکَنه.
به هر روی این استفادهی مکرر یک نگاه پدیدارشناختی به مخاطب میده که غایت تاریکی رو در پس زمینه هرگز از یاد نبره، یک اِلِمانِ را احضار میکنیم تا حضور ممتدِ متضاد اون رو به مخاطب نشون بدیم.
همه میدونیم که نور در تاریکیست نه بر آن! یعنی تاریکی محاط بر نور است. و نویسنده در فضای جنگ و ذهن قهرمان، مرتب در پی یادآوری نامحسوس و محسوس این واقعیت است.
پینوشت: اگر به ترجمهی خوب مترجم اشاره نکنم جفا کردم در حق ایشون.
💣
امتیازی به درد و زخم
چیزیکه در کل رمان، بهجز صفحاتی معدود باهاش روبرو میشید حضورِ «نورِ». توصیف و احضار نور در روایت به اَشکالِ متفاوت. گاهی خود نور، گاهی شمهای از نور، گاهی انعکاس یک منور، گاهی آتشی رو به بالا (من اینجا به یاد کتاب روانکاوی آتش از گاستون باشلار افتادم) و استعلا که حکایت از انفجاری دردناک میده و برای غلبه بر تاریکی داره جون میکَنه.
به هر روی این استفادهی مکرر یک نگاه پدیدارشناختی به مخاطب میده که غایت تاریکی رو در پس زمینه هرگز از یاد نبره، یک اِلِمانِ را احضار میکنیم تا حضور ممتدِ متضاد اون رو به مخاطب نشون بدیم.
همه میدونیم که نور در تاریکیست نه بر آن! یعنی تاریکی محاط بر نور است. و نویسنده در فضای جنگ و ذهن قهرمان، مرتب در پی یادآوری نامحسوس و محسوس این واقعیت است.
پینوشت: اگر به ترجمهی خوب مترجم اشاره نکنم جفا کردم در حق ایشون.
💣
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