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This work is in the public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work.
As a reproduction of a historical artifact, this work may contain missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. Scholars believe, and we concur, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. We appreciate your support of the preservation process, and thank you for being an important part of keeping this knowledge alive and relevant.
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First published January 1, 1891
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About the author
Henryk Sienkiewicz
1,355 books712 followersHenryk Adam Aleksander Pius Sienkiewicz (also known as "Litwos"; May 5, 1846–November 15, 1916) was a Polish journalist and Nobel Prize-winning novelist. He was one of the most popular Polish writers at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, and received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1905 for his "outstanding merits as an epic writer."
Born into an impoverished gentry family in the Podlasie village of Wola Okrzejska, in Russian-ruled Poland, Sienkiewicz wrote historical novels set during the Rzeczpospolita (Polish Republic, or Commonwealth). His works were noted for their negative portrayal of the Teutonic Order in The Teutonic Knights (Krzyżacy), which was remarkable as a significant portion of his readership lived under German rule. Many of his novels were first serialized in newspapers, and even today are still in print. In Poland, he is best known for his historical novels "With Fire and Sword", "The Deluge", and "Fire in the Steppe" (The Trilogy) set during the 17th-century Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, while internationally he is best known for Quo Vadis, set in Nero's Rome. Quo Vadis has been filmed several times, most notably the 1951 version.
Sienkiewicz was meticulous in attempting to recreate the authenticity of historical language. In his Trilogy, for instance, he had his characters use the Polish language as he imagined it was spoken in the seventeenth century (in reality it was far more similar to 19th-century Polish than he imagined). In The Teutonic Knights, which relates to the Battle of Grunwald in 1410, he even had his characters speak a variety of medieval Polish which he recreated in part from archaic expressions then still common among the highlanders of Podhale.
In 1881, Sienkiewicz married Maria Szetkiewicz (1854-1885). They had two children, Henryk Józef (1882-1959) and Jadwiga Maria (1883–1969).
Born into an impoverished gentry family in the Podlasie village of Wola Okrzejska, in Russian-ruled Poland, Sienkiewicz wrote historical novels set during the Rzeczpospolita (Polish Republic, or Commonwealth). His works were noted for their negative portrayal of the Teutonic Order in The Teutonic Knights (Krzyżacy), which was remarkable as a significant portion of his readership lived under German rule. Many of his novels were first serialized in newspapers, and even today are still in print. In Poland, he is best known for his historical novels "With Fire and Sword", "The Deluge", and "Fire in the Steppe" (The Trilogy) set during the 17th-century Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, while internationally he is best known for Quo Vadis, set in Nero's Rome. Quo Vadis has been filmed several times, most notably the 1951 version.
Sienkiewicz was meticulous in attempting to recreate the authenticity of historical language. In his Trilogy, for instance, he had his characters use the Polish language as he imagined it was spoken in the seventeenth century (in reality it was far more similar to 19th-century Polish than he imagined). In The Teutonic Knights, which relates to the Battle of Grunwald in 1410, he even had his characters speak a variety of medieval Polish which he recreated in part from archaic expressions then still common among the highlanders of Podhale.
In 1881, Sienkiewicz married Maria Szetkiewicz (1854-1885). They had two children, Henryk Józef (1882-1959) and Jadwiga Maria (1883–1969).
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 97 reviews
June 21, 2020
Enough is enough! With or without Dogma! Hurrah! It’s over and done, the novel I mean. Surprisingly, I found myself in a rush to finish it. Guess I am changed, too! I have enjoyed it, but I don’t see myself reading it for a third time. The chief interest is set upon a single character, a so-called hero, that in the silence of his diary, that became his most intimate friend, carries a great battle - of a man for his soul. Still he produces nothing, that is to say, with his own words he is a “genius without a portfolio”. He is Leon Ploszowski – an aristocrat by birth, whose character is such that reasonably many of us will find just enough of ourselves to make its weaknesses look distasteful to us. He belongs to our own times, too. His doubts and his dilettanteism are our own. Surely the theme is one and the same: old enough to convey that the strongest and most genuine emotion of his life is his love for a woman (eventually a married woman). Reading it firstly some two decades ago, I recall I was deeply moved by the story of the female character, less for the male character. I mean I couldn’t care for him at all. The character of the woman stands out in splendid contrast to the man’s: its simplicity, strength, truth and faith (blind even) are the antidote for his doubt and weakness. Her very weakness becomes her strength and her dogmatism saves him.
The novel takes the form of a diary, basically the main character – feeling himself unworthy to have done anything for his country at thirty-five years of age - is the one who decides one day to leave a legacy behind him in the form of written memories, based on his most sincere thoughts, reflections, impressions and sensations, that affected him, within an interval of one year and half- two years backwards. Eventually he writes his diary not only because it has become his second nature, like a passion, giving him an outlet for his pent-up feeling, but still more because it gives him a clear view and keeps account of all that is passing.
The daily journal keeps a very clear description of his character, of his happenings, of his emotions. Although he studied and lived mostly abroad, he is and remains a cultured and gifted nobleman-dilettante. He even thinks this runs in the family, even if his father, a man of deep feelings, tried to find himself in religious convictions, when he found out that there is utter emptiness in everything he studied during his whole life.
His only misfortune is that he brought with him into the world very sensitive nerves. Sadly, I have to admit that at some point in my reading I was about to outcry: I have myself sensitive nerves, I cannot go on! That is to say that I was becoming more and more embittered, as reading about Leon’s thoughts and rambles was keenly irritating my nerves. Methinks, my reasoning and feelings are surely different than his – but why am I getting so distressed the more I read him? Therefore, enough! Enough and I will continue, ha!
And I did go on reading. But it was quite depressing with each new page. An exceptionally gifted child, with a promising future, brought up in the poetic melancholy of Rome, within an atmosphere and surroundings that failed not to impress his mind, yet despite all influence he is barely a dilettante, carrying within himself the conviction that he could be something infinitely greater than he is (definitely, wishful thinking). He explains the tragedy of his life through the one that he carries within him – “improductivite slave” of the Ploszowskis. Along with this, goes the genius without portfolio.
Truth be told, the human being, like the sea, has his ebb and flood tides. But for Leon his will, energy and very action of life seem mostly at a very low tide, caused chiefly by a mere matter of nerves. He gets himself, on his own accord within a truly enchanted circle, where we can only see him deploying a despairing incapacity for life. He just doesn’t know and because he doesn’t know he escapes from marriage, although he fell in love with the girl.
≪ It is not Aniela who is far from me, it is I who go farther and farther away from the Leon whose heart and thoughts were once so full of her. This does not mean that my feelings for her have vanished. By close analysis I find they have only changed in their active character. Some weeks ago, I loved her and wanted something; I love her still, but want nothing. ≫
Decidedly, love cleanses our hearts, but not Leon’s. There are always two persons within him- the actor, and the spectator. Often one or the other is dissatisfied with the other, very rarely they both agree. His highest pleasure in life is, or at least was, to philosophize about everything: people, abilities, sentiments. What saddened me greatly is that he is yet aware of a cruel fact regarding his philosophizing his thirty-five years of life: “I know it leads to nothing, I know it is wrong, but I do not know how not think”. Instead of giving him anything, philosophy has eaten his heart away.
The novel ends somehow in the same note, “I do not know”, but the hero has stopped his maddening passive activity. He used to be unutterably unhappy because he thought his nature is an unhappy one, because it was poisoned by pessimism and scepticism, ruling his whole life. A longing is planted within him, there is a want and something is missing, in time he blindly follows his instinctive impulses. Chiefly it is the calm, masculine judgment that is wanting. Definitely it is the old story – he who inquiries too deeply into his own mind ends by disagreeing with himself; and who disagrees with himself is incapable of any decision.
Truly this novel leaves deep impression on the reader, it’s terrible to understand by and by how criticism of everything reduces the soul to utter impotence, while there is no faith in life. In the name of freedom of thought and freedom of doubt, how can one reach to an inward spiritual peace?
“I do not know”, it is very contagious 😉 Since he is nothing than Leon Ploszowski, the force of habit is stronger than the force of life, of love. Sadly, but the cornucopia shower of gifts was simply wasted on this hero. He is a hyper-analytical sceptic inclined to hysteria, carries a great nothingness in his soul, and a strong neurosis in his veins, with no mastery over the slightest sensations. Fiddlesticks! Conclusively, I will just quote the sick hero: “Hamlet is the human soul as it was, as it is, and as it will be.” His story is about a disease of the will, a diseased imagination, about a love of a man who is close upon mania! And the oddity of the thing is that it is a mere play of words!
Finishing it I can only say I have a sudden longing for the sun and brighter skies, for places where there is no mist, no rain, no darkness. If I go where there is sun and brightness it will shield me from the unknown danger, well something in the form of Leon – or I am still yoked to his memories, because I feel his diary abused my trust. I am in big need of a change, or better said I should beware, as something is always growing within us! 😉 😊
The novel takes the form of a diary, basically the main character – feeling himself unworthy to have done anything for his country at thirty-five years of age - is the one who decides one day to leave a legacy behind him in the form of written memories, based on his most sincere thoughts, reflections, impressions and sensations, that affected him, within an interval of one year and half- two years backwards. Eventually he writes his diary not only because it has become his second nature, like a passion, giving him an outlet for his pent-up feeling, but still more because it gives him a clear view and keeps account of all that is passing.
The daily journal keeps a very clear description of his character, of his happenings, of his emotions. Although he studied and lived mostly abroad, he is and remains a cultured and gifted nobleman-dilettante. He even thinks this runs in the family, even if his father, a man of deep feelings, tried to find himself in religious convictions, when he found out that there is utter emptiness in everything he studied during his whole life.
His only misfortune is that he brought with him into the world very sensitive nerves. Sadly, I have to admit that at some point in my reading I was about to outcry: I have myself sensitive nerves, I cannot go on! That is to say that I was becoming more and more embittered, as reading about Leon’s thoughts and rambles was keenly irritating my nerves. Methinks, my reasoning and feelings are surely different than his – but why am I getting so distressed the more I read him? Therefore, enough! Enough and I will continue, ha!
And I did go on reading. But it was quite depressing with each new page. An exceptionally gifted child, with a promising future, brought up in the poetic melancholy of Rome, within an atmosphere and surroundings that failed not to impress his mind, yet despite all influence he is barely a dilettante, carrying within himself the conviction that he could be something infinitely greater than he is (definitely, wishful thinking). He explains the tragedy of his life through the one that he carries within him – “improductivite slave” of the Ploszowskis. Along with this, goes the genius without portfolio.
Truth be told, the human being, like the sea, has his ebb and flood tides. But for Leon his will, energy and very action of life seem mostly at a very low tide, caused chiefly by a mere matter of nerves. He gets himself, on his own accord within a truly enchanted circle, where we can only see him deploying a despairing incapacity for life. He just doesn’t know and because he doesn’t know he escapes from marriage, although he fell in love with the girl.
≪ It is not Aniela who is far from me, it is I who go farther and farther away from the Leon whose heart and thoughts were once so full of her. This does not mean that my feelings for her have vanished. By close analysis I find they have only changed in their active character. Some weeks ago, I loved her and wanted something; I love her still, but want nothing. ≫
Decidedly, love cleanses our hearts, but not Leon’s. There are always two persons within him- the actor, and the spectator. Often one or the other is dissatisfied with the other, very rarely they both agree. His highest pleasure in life is, or at least was, to philosophize about everything: people, abilities, sentiments. What saddened me greatly is that he is yet aware of a cruel fact regarding his philosophizing his thirty-five years of life: “I know it leads to nothing, I know it is wrong, but I do not know how not think”. Instead of giving him anything, philosophy has eaten his heart away.
The novel ends somehow in the same note, “I do not know”, but the hero has stopped his maddening passive activity. He used to be unutterably unhappy because he thought his nature is an unhappy one, because it was poisoned by pessimism and scepticism, ruling his whole life. A longing is planted within him, there is a want and something is missing, in time he blindly follows his instinctive impulses. Chiefly it is the calm, masculine judgment that is wanting. Definitely it is the old story – he who inquiries too deeply into his own mind ends by disagreeing with himself; and who disagrees with himself is incapable of any decision.
Truly this novel leaves deep impression on the reader, it’s terrible to understand by and by how criticism of everything reduces the soul to utter impotence, while there is no faith in life. In the name of freedom of thought and freedom of doubt, how can one reach to an inward spiritual peace?
“I do not know”, it is very contagious 😉 Since he is nothing than Leon Ploszowski, the force of habit is stronger than the force of life, of love. Sadly, but the cornucopia shower of gifts was simply wasted on this hero. He is a hyper-analytical sceptic inclined to hysteria, carries a great nothingness in his soul, and a strong neurosis in his veins, with no mastery over the slightest sensations. Fiddlesticks! Conclusively, I will just quote the sick hero: “Hamlet is the human soul as it was, as it is, and as it will be.” His story is about a disease of the will, a diseased imagination, about a love of a man who is close upon mania! And the oddity of the thing is that it is a mere play of words!
Finishing it I can only say I have a sudden longing for the sun and brighter skies, for places where there is no mist, no rain, no darkness. If I go where there is sun and brightness it will shield me from the unknown danger, well something in the form of Leon – or I am still yoked to his memories, because I feel his diary abused my trust. I am in big need of a change, or better said I should beware, as something is always growing within us! 😉 😊
January 27, 2022
Moj šesti Sjenkjevič, i svaki je bio mio, ali ovaj mi je najmiliji. Štimung fin de siecle, ali duševni. Roman koji su voleli Tolstoj, Čehov, Gorki i Bora Stanković.
„Kako je pogrešno mišljenje da se osećajnost savremenih ljudi smanjuje. Ponekad mislim da je obratno. Ko nema oba plućna krila, taj jače diše jednim, a nama je oduzeto sve od čega su ranije ljudi živeli – ostavljeni su samo živci – razdražljiviji uzbudljiviji nego u pređašnjeg čoveka.“
„Kako je pogrešno mišljenje da se osećajnost savremenih ljudi smanjuje. Ponekad mislim da je obratno. Ko nema oba plućna krila, taj jače diše jednim, a nama je oduzeto sve od čega su ranije ljudi živeli – ostavljeni su samo živci – razdražljiviji uzbudljiviji nego u pređašnjeg čoveka.“
September 3, 2018
No Spoilers.
If you were a person, living in Poland, at the end of the nineteenth century or at the beginning of the twentieth, you may have read this Nobel Prize authors’ works. But most probably, you did not read “Without Dogma.” Since its’ publication over one hundred years ago, there are probably seventy-three of us that have, including myself. And, you too can read it, gratis, from an online company.
At different points in this novel, I monitored my reactions, as well as the story unfolding. There were times when I wanted to stop reading it. Times when I was immersed in it. Times when I considered personal defenestration. Times when I wanted to enter the pages, only to shake up the character’s person and behavior. And, as a precaution, I set up a noose by the ceiling lighting fixture, just in case…
This story, written in diary format, and in narrative first person form, is about a young man in love. Sounds nice, yes? Love. He meditates on it for as long as the book is, probably four hundred pages. Four hundred incessant pages about ‘amour.’ And for our Spanish speaking audience, ‘amor.’
‘Love’ is a tricky sentiment and a nuanced word. ‘Nice,’ ‘Lucky,’ ‘Pretty’ are also amorphous words that are quite subjective. We all have our own ideas of what they mean and how the word, the sensation of ‘love’ may have changed its’ complexion over the years for us. When I was eighteen ‘love’ was a vastly different wonder than it is to me now that I am twenty-one (kidding). But you understand the vicissitudes of it in your own lives.
The author was definitely brilliant. He was able to write with the best of them. But this is a dense, trying, demanding and troublesome work. It requires your full attention, if your goal is to reap the essence of what he is attempting to impart. No dawdling here. I would not call it a ‘lite hearted romance novel,’ just as I would not deem a wine and crème fraiche reduced beurre blanc sauce, healthy. Both, or either, will affect change.
I could sense that one could easily rate this piece one or three or five stars and all would be worthy ratings. But what are ratings? It is too simplistic, many times, to issue a viewpoint simply by pressing the correct number of buttons. I wavered throughout and finally reconciled it to five stars for Goodreads modality.
If you are up to a rigorous, philosophical, and an emotional challenge, I suggest to you “Without Dogma.”
If you were a person, living in Poland, at the end of the nineteenth century or at the beginning of the twentieth, you may have read this Nobel Prize authors’ works. But most probably, you did not read “Without Dogma.” Since its’ publication over one hundred years ago, there are probably seventy-three of us that have, including myself. And, you too can read it, gratis, from an online company.
At different points in this novel, I monitored my reactions, as well as the story unfolding. There were times when I wanted to stop reading it. Times when I was immersed in it. Times when I considered personal defenestration. Times when I wanted to enter the pages, only to shake up the character’s person and behavior. And, as a precaution, I set up a noose by the ceiling lighting fixture, just in case…
This story, written in diary format, and in narrative first person form, is about a young man in love. Sounds nice, yes? Love. He meditates on it for as long as the book is, probably four hundred pages. Four hundred incessant pages about ‘amour.’ And for our Spanish speaking audience, ‘amor.’
‘Love’ is a tricky sentiment and a nuanced word. ‘Nice,’ ‘Lucky,’ ‘Pretty’ are also amorphous words that are quite subjective. We all have our own ideas of what they mean and how the word, the sensation of ‘love’ may have changed its’ complexion over the years for us. When I was eighteen ‘love’ was a vastly different wonder than it is to me now that I am twenty-one (kidding). But you understand the vicissitudes of it in your own lives.
The author was definitely brilliant. He was able to write with the best of them. But this is a dense, trying, demanding and troublesome work. It requires your full attention, if your goal is to reap the essence of what he is attempting to impart. No dawdling here. I would not call it a ‘lite hearted romance novel,’ just as I would not deem a wine and crème fraiche reduced beurre blanc sauce, healthy. Both, or either, will affect change.
I could sense that one could easily rate this piece one or three or five stars and all would be worthy ratings. But what are ratings? It is too simplistic, many times, to issue a viewpoint simply by pressing the correct number of buttons. I wavered throughout and finally reconciled it to five stars for Goodreads modality.
If you are up to a rigorous, philosophical, and an emotional challenge, I suggest to you “Without Dogma.”
June 2, 2013
It's a love story.
It's an unhappy love story.
It's an unhappy love story involving an exasperatingly self-aware protagonist reduced to inaction by the scepticism and scientific rationalism of his era.
What more could I ask for?
When I started reading this book, I hated it. The narrative is in the form of a diary written by the self-aware protagonist, Leon Ploszowski, and by the first few pages I was so irritated with his attitude toward life and love I wanted to rip the book up, but I couldn't because it was an ebook. I stuck with it because I'd been warned by the editor's preface that no matter how despicable the character, he was really all of us (in Leon's words: "hyper-analytical sceptics inclined to hysteria, with a great nothingness in their souls, and a strong neurosis in their veins") and I would find that out for myself if I gave him a chance to speak. So I did - but it wasn't before he fell in love with a woman who proceeded to marry a guy he detested that I became sympathetic enough to actually hear his voice. And what a voice it is. The observations he records are so minute, subtle and universal that I could neither skim-read the book nor tear myself away from it. ("Women have a special weakness for those who suffer for love's sake.")
It also made me laugh a lot after I got over my initial dislike for him because everything he said was so spot-on. To create a detestable character and then to gain for him the reader's sympathies so completely - that is good writing.
Love's a weird enough thing, but self-aware love's just bizarre. If you've ever tried it, you know it turns every moment and every action into an irreconcilable paradox. Do you desire your own happiness or the beloved's? Are you maybe using reverse reverse reverse psychology on yourself when you think you want to keep your love pure and spiritual? WTH is pure and spiritual love anyway? Fuck science, ruining everything since 1 billion BC. That's Leon Ploszowski all over, and that's why you end up shaking your head and grudgingly accepting that he is, in fact, all of us.
What makes the book unique among all the romances I've read is that it neither idealizes love nor denigrates and mocks it. (If there was one thing I didn't like, it was the "poetic justice" of the plot. Totally marred its credibility.) From a scientific perspective, love's a means of making two selves work as one in aid of genetic propagation. And we can draw all the impermeable boundaries we want, and pretend that we can classify love into types by writing separate Wikipedia articles on Platonic love and friendly love and romantic love, but the-desire-to-make-two-selves-work-as-one-in-aid-of-genetic-propagation can't be reduced to some linear combination of all those types. A creature in love has a goal to achieve, and evolution doesn't friggin' care if that goal comes across to its co-creatures as creepy and inappropriate, or full of beauty and pathos, or divine and mystical, or a waste of time and plain meh. All the drives of the organism, from the noblest to the most vulgar, are recruited for the purpose - because evolution doesn't know which of them might get the job done - and that can become a case of too many cooks, because every single one of the drives wants to help out and contribute its share with absolutely no regard for whether or not it is qualified to do so, or whether that contribution is required. This necessarily leads to a terrible internal struggle in even the most dimly self-aware and self-respecting of creatures, to intercede on behalf of the "nobler passions" and create a kind of "meritocracy" of desire. Leon Ploszowski throws himself so entirely into this struggle and lays bare the petty, calculating part of himself, and his shame and self-hatred at recognizing it as a part of himself, so mercilessly that one cannot help but respect him, and if one can be honest enough, say - 'I know that love is as despicable a thing as it is awe-inspiring, even if I cannot believe it. In this man's position I could not have endured this terrible self-knowledge, and I would have held on to any delusion, any dogma that allowed me to escape it.'
This, if nothing else, is Leon's salvation - in my eyes at least. He is a latter-day Werther, far less anchored in his convictions, incapable of belief in love or anything else until, and even after that belief is forced upon him biologically. He is not a great lover, he is not even a likeable lover, but he is a realistic lover.
One thing that rather amuses me is how Leon keeps referring to himself as 'feminine' (due to his disposition toward nervous inaction). The book is an excellent commentary on society and human relations, not only in fin-de-siecle Poland but everywhere, always, and this includes gender relations (Aniela's reaction to Leon's professions of love is so typically feminine - though Aniela herself is rather a wooden character with hardly any agency). Anyway point is, I don't have time to analyze right now whether or not Leon is justified in thinking himself womanly, but I would like to return to the question someday after I have studied a lot of psychology, sociology and critical theory.
It's an unhappy love story.
It's an unhappy love story involving an exasperatingly self-aware protagonist reduced to inaction by the scepticism and scientific rationalism of his era.
What more could I ask for?
When I started reading this book, I hated it. The narrative is in the form of a diary written by the self-aware protagonist, Leon Ploszowski, and by the first few pages I was so irritated with his attitude toward life and love I wanted to rip the book up, but I couldn't because it was an ebook. I stuck with it because I'd been warned by the editor's preface that no matter how despicable the character, he was really all of us (in Leon's words: "hyper-analytical sceptics inclined to hysteria, with a great nothingness in their souls, and a strong neurosis in their veins") and I would find that out for myself if I gave him a chance to speak. So I did - but it wasn't before he fell in love with a woman who proceeded to marry a guy he detested that I became sympathetic enough to actually hear his voice. And what a voice it is. The observations he records are so minute, subtle and universal that I could neither skim-read the book nor tear myself away from it. ("Women have a special weakness for those who suffer for love's sake.")
It also made me laugh a lot after I got over my initial dislike for him because everything he said was so spot-on. To create a detestable character and then to gain for him the reader's sympathies so completely - that is good writing.
Love's a weird enough thing, but self-aware love's just bizarre. If you've ever tried it, you know it turns every moment and every action into an irreconcilable paradox. Do you desire your own happiness or the beloved's? Are you maybe using reverse reverse reverse psychology on yourself when you think you want to keep your love pure and spiritual? WTH is pure and spiritual love anyway? Fuck science, ruining everything since 1 billion BC. That's Leon Ploszowski all over, and that's why you end up shaking your head and grudgingly accepting that he is, in fact, all of us.
What makes the book unique among all the romances I've read is that it neither idealizes love nor denigrates and mocks it. (If there was one thing I didn't like, it was the "poetic justice" of the plot. Totally marred its credibility.) From a scientific perspective, love's a means of making two selves work as one in aid of genetic propagation. And we can draw all the impermeable boundaries we want, and pretend that we can classify love into types by writing separate Wikipedia articles on Platonic love and friendly love and romantic love, but the-desire-to-make-two-selves-work-as-one-in-aid-of-genetic-propagation can't be reduced to some linear combination of all those types. A creature in love has a goal to achieve, and evolution doesn't friggin' care if that goal comes across to its co-creatures as creepy and inappropriate, or full of beauty and pathos, or divine and mystical, or a waste of time and plain meh. All the drives of the organism, from the noblest to the most vulgar, are recruited for the purpose - because evolution doesn't know which of them might get the job done - and that can become a case of too many cooks, because every single one of the drives wants to help out and contribute its share with absolutely no regard for whether or not it is qualified to do so, or whether that contribution is required. This necessarily leads to a terrible internal struggle in even the most dimly self-aware and self-respecting of creatures, to intercede on behalf of the "nobler passions" and create a kind of "meritocracy" of desire. Leon Ploszowski throws himself so entirely into this struggle and lays bare the petty, calculating part of himself, and his shame and self-hatred at recognizing it as a part of himself, so mercilessly that one cannot help but respect him, and if one can be honest enough, say - 'I know that love is as despicable a thing as it is awe-inspiring, even if I cannot believe it. In this man's position I could not have endured this terrible self-knowledge, and I would have held on to any delusion, any dogma that allowed me to escape it.'
This, if nothing else, is Leon's salvation - in my eyes at least. He is a latter-day Werther, far less anchored in his convictions, incapable of belief in love or anything else until, and even after that belief is forced upon him biologically. He is not a great lover, he is not even a likeable lover, but he is a realistic lover.
One thing that rather amuses me is how Leon keeps referring to himself as 'feminine' (due to his disposition toward nervous inaction). The book is an excellent commentary on society and human relations, not only in fin-de-siecle Poland but everywhere, always, and this includes gender relations (Aniela's reaction to Leon's professions of love is so typically feminine - though Aniela herself is rather a wooden character with hardly any agency). Anyway point is, I don't have time to analyze right now whether or not Leon is justified in thinking himself womanly, but I would like to return to the question someday after I have studied a lot of psychology, sociology and critical theory.
May 15, 2023
Bez dogme, načela i uverenja, bez ičega sam živog uma i skepse koja razjeda svaki oslonac, i zbog toga: bez zanimanja i aspiracija, Leon svoje znatne životne snage preobražava u njima proporcijalnu naklonost prema ženi. U osećanju pronalazi smisao tek kada postane izazov i izgubljena bitka od koje nije u stanju da odustane. Žudnja, i od nje nerazdvojna tragika, rastaču taedium vitae u svojim gorkim otrovima ali se nažalost na tome ne završava.
Leonova razmatranja, sporadično provučena kroz dnevničke beleške koje opisuju razvitke i krahove jednog odnosa, tako su bliska i poznata iako su atipična, ili bar, retkog tipa, a individua sličnih stavova, ne samo da je moralo biti, već one, siguran sam, i danas postoje, te opseg primene “dijagnoze” ovog dela, koje nazivaju “dijagnozom jedne generacije”, po mom mišljenju, premašuje “jednu generaciju”. Bave se temama kao što su: implikacije razvijene samosvesti, odnosi: smrti i ljubavi, estetike i morala, skepticizma i misticizma, zatim: pojavom koju naziva l’improductivite slave (slovenska neproduktivnost), a ove digresije i filozofski dezerti, pored toga što produbljuju lik, mogu biti zasebno posmatrani i ispitivani.
Ukratko: izvanredan roman.
Leonova razmatranja, sporadično provučena kroz dnevničke beleške koje opisuju razvitke i krahove jednog odnosa, tako su bliska i poznata iako su atipična, ili bar, retkog tipa, a individua sličnih stavova, ne samo da je moralo biti, već one, siguran sam, i danas postoje, te opseg primene “dijagnoze” ovog dela, koje nazivaju “dijagnozom jedne generacije”, po mom mišljenju, premašuje “jednu generaciju”. Bave se temama kao što su: implikacije razvijene samosvesti, odnosi: smrti i ljubavi, estetike i morala, skepticizma i misticizma, zatim: pojavom koju naziva l’improductivite slave (slovenska neproduktivnost), a ove digresije i filozofski dezerti, pored toga što produbljuju lik, mogu biti zasebno posmatrani i ispitivani.
Ukratko: izvanredan roman.
March 5, 2023
This one is a singularity in Sienkiewicz's works, most of them long historical novels. It is concieved as the diary of a rich Polish aristocrat, who's dealing with serious matters, as the meaning of life, morality, patriotism, not to forget to mention ladies.
Written in 1891, the story may look dusted, but some principles remain the same, even in our hurried times...
Written in 1891, the story may look dusted, but some principles remain the same, even in our hurried times...
September 2, 2013
numai ce-am închis cartea și pot să spun cu mâna pe inimă că este cel mai emoționant și zguduitor roman pe care l-am citit recent. mi-a atins și ultima fibră omenească, ceva ce sincer, nu credeam că o să mai fie posibil prea curând.
March 24, 2024
Mă gândesc adesea că am avut fericirea în mână și i-am dat drumul.
April 8, 2025
3,5 ⭐️
May 9, 2024
none of this would happed if leon płoszowski podotykałby trochę trawy
December 10, 2022
Unlike any of Sienkiewicz's other half dozen or so novels read to date, this is neither a historical fiction nor a story of separated love; instead, it is a memoir by a far-too-well-to-do Polish aristocrat - Leon Ploszowski - who spends all of his time in Rome, Berlin, Warsaw, Switzerland or at the country estates of his aunt. He is quite intelligent,and quite modern: he looks at art and philosophy from a critical, sceptical, disinterested distance, never really engaging in any firm belief or passionate commitment.
That is, until he falls in love with Aniela, a beautiful young Polish cousin whom his aunt, in one of her many attempts to marry him off, manages to orchestrate a lot of time for them together. Then, Leon's father falls ill in Rome and he leaves. Then, Aniela is pursued by a relatively shady business type, Kromitzki. Leon meets a truly beautiful woman in Rome, one Laura Davis, who is married but whose husband suffers from insanity. Ill-advisedly, Leon sends a note of dismissal to his aunt, hoping that Aniela 'find happiness with Kromitzki'. Learning that they are to be married,Leon dispatches a mutual friend to dissuade her from taking this step.
These efforts fail and Leon spends the last 200 or so of the book's 350 pp. bemoaning his love for Aniela, which she refuses to acknowledge, except as that of a brother for a sister. It's all rather pathetic, but there is no doubt he really loves her and that his love is doomed. Even the love he receives from a talented musician, Clara Hiltz, fails to displace his infatuation and the omnipresent pressure he feels to realize his unrequited love for Aniela. When he proposes to Clara, she wisely refuses, stating that though she loves him, she can tell that he does not love her.
The eventual bankuptcy and suicide of Kromitzki and death of the by then pregnant Aniela fail to lift the burden of depression and despair at the pointlessness of his existence from the shattered Leon, whose last musings seem somewhat suicidal.
A strange work, strangely titled and strangely developed with virtually nothing happening other than the main character's musings on his current often tragic plight.
That is, until he falls in love with Aniela, a beautiful young Polish cousin whom his aunt, in one of her many attempts to marry him off, manages to orchestrate a lot of time for them together. Then, Leon's father falls ill in Rome and he leaves. Then, Aniela is pursued by a relatively shady business type, Kromitzki. Leon meets a truly beautiful woman in Rome, one Laura Davis, who is married but whose husband suffers from insanity. Ill-advisedly, Leon sends a note of dismissal to his aunt, hoping that Aniela 'find happiness with Kromitzki'. Learning that they are to be married,Leon dispatches a mutual friend to dissuade her from taking this step.
These efforts fail and Leon spends the last 200 or so of the book's 350 pp. bemoaning his love for Aniela, which she refuses to acknowledge, except as that of a brother for a sister. It's all rather pathetic, but there is no doubt he really loves her and that his love is doomed. Even the love he receives from a talented musician, Clara Hiltz, fails to displace his infatuation and the omnipresent pressure he feels to realize his unrequited love for Aniela. When he proposes to Clara, she wisely refuses, stating that though she loves him, she can tell that he does not love her.
The eventual bankuptcy and suicide of Kromitzki and death of the by then pregnant Aniela fail to lift the burden of depression and despair at the pointlessness of his existence from the shattered Leon, whose last musings seem somewhat suicidal.
A strange work, strangely titled and strangely developed with virtually nothing happening other than the main character's musings on his current often tragic plight.
Read
February 26, 2025ten jeden były który nie pozwoli ci o sobie zapomnieć
January 4, 2015
This is definitely one of the saddest books I have ever read. It teaches us that we must take the right decisions when we are supposed to and not let our pride conquer our lives. In the end, it might be the only thing that last and there will be place only for regrets.
June 11, 2025
Leon Płoszowski byłby Bojack apologist, a Bojack chętnie zagrałby jego rolę w adaptacji filmowej.
May 26, 2025
to brzmi jak madison kaski sochackiej
March 9, 2024
jak można być aż tak niedojrzałym idiotą????????
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaąaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa m*zczyzni
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaąaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa m*zczyzni
May 31, 2023
Без догма - Хенрик Сјенкјевич
Доколку сакате да прочитате дело со скриено богатство, скриено во секој збор, секоја реченица, секоја страница, а да биде откриено во последната страница, тогаш оваа книга е вистинската за Вас.
Пишувана како дневник од страна на главниот протагонист, водичот на оваа приказна Леон Прошовски. По идеја на неговиот пријател Јусеф Шњатински, тој ја започнува својата потрага по пишаниот збор. На почетокот се труди да сподели што повеќе информации за тоа кој е тој. Неговото аристократско потекло, неговото образование, неговите размислувања, посебно во однос на жените. Но, ни сам не е свесен дека ќе биде искрена исповед. Иако тој неверник, атеист. Скептик, филозоф, самосвесен, епикупеец ( човек што ја наоѓа целта на животот во телесното уживање ), развратник, сладострасник ...
Богат е вокабуларот со зборови за човек како него.
Дневникот е тој што му е потребен.
,, Човек кој остава зад себе дневник, сеедно дали е добро или лошо напишан, само да е искрен, им пренесува и им дава на идните психолози и романсиери не само слика за своето време, туку и единствени вистински човечки документи на кои може да им се верува".
Неговата мајка починува една недела после неговото раѓање, а неговиот татко запаѓа во меланхолија, поради загубата на својата љубена, која никогаш никоја нема да може да ја замени. Вечен е споменот на неа.
Се надева на таква љубов за неговиот син. Тетката е таа која ја има улогата на посредник за пронаоѓање на идната невеста. Леон не верува дека тоа ќе се оствари, но не сака да им ја уништи искрената и заедничка желба кој ја имаат неговите најблиски.
Леон е човек без догма, токму како и насловот на оваа книга. А догма е верско начело што верниците треба да го прифатат без никаква критика апсолутно вистинито.
Како книжевник догма е општество, а како приватен човек е љубена жена.
Се надеваат дека ќе го стишат филозофот во него и нема да го преизфилозофира својот талент, а и 35 те години живот.
Средбата со таа нежна девојка, ќе го промени сфаќањето на љубовта и нејзиното прифаќање. Ањелка ќе го промени, а тој својата љубов ќе ја предаде во рацете на другиот ...
Доколку сакате да прочитате дело со скриено богатство, скриено во секој збор, секоја реченица, секоја страница, а да биде откриено во последната страница, тогаш оваа книга е вистинската за Вас.
Пишувана како дневник од страна на главниот протагонист, водичот на оваа приказна Леон Прошовски. По идеја на неговиот пријател Јусеф Шњатински, тој ја започнува својата потрага по пишаниот збор. На почетокот се труди да сподели што повеќе информации за тоа кој е тој. Неговото аристократско потекло, неговото образование, неговите размислувања, посебно во однос на жените. Но, ни сам не е свесен дека ќе биде искрена исповед. Иако тој неверник, атеист. Скептик, филозоф, самосвесен, епикупеец ( човек што ја наоѓа целта на животот во телесното уживање ), развратник, сладострасник ...
Богат е вокабуларот со зборови за човек како него.
Дневникот е тој што му е потребен.
,, Човек кој остава зад себе дневник, сеедно дали е добро или лошо напишан, само да е искрен, им пренесува и им дава на идните психолози и романсиери не само слика за своето време, туку и единствени вистински човечки документи на кои може да им се верува".
Неговата мајка починува една недела после неговото раѓање, а неговиот татко запаѓа во меланхолија, поради загубата на својата љубена, која никогаш никоја нема да може да ја замени. Вечен е споменот на неа.
Се надева на таква љубов за неговиот син. Тетката е таа која ја има улогата на посредник за пронаоѓање на идната невеста. Леон не верува дека тоа ќе се оствари, но не сака да им ја уништи искрената и заедничка желба кој ја имаат неговите најблиски.
Леон е човек без догма, токму како и насловот на оваа книга. А догма е верско начело што верниците треба да го прифатат без никаква критика апсолутно вистинито.
Како книжевник догма е општество, а како приватен човек е љубена жена.
Се надеваат дека ќе го стишат филозофот во него и нема да го преизфилозофира својот талент, а и 35 те години живот.
Средбата со таа нежна девојка, ќе го промени сфаќањето на љубовта и нејзиното прифаќање. Ањелка ќе го промени, а тој својата љубов ќе ја предаде во рацете на другиот ...
July 26, 2016
Incredible book, indeed! The way Sienkiewicz could express every single one of his thoughts as if his memory were endless, made me feel so limited. I start forgetting my thoughts while having them...
January 15, 2021
druga połowa tak okropnie mnie wynudziła i wymęczyła, że właściwie powieść powinna dostać dwie gwiazdki. ale nie mogę się pozbyć zachwytu nad celnością niektórych myśli i autentycznością rozterek bohatera z pierwszej połowy
April 21, 2013
The most frustrating book I've ever read.
March 29, 2025
Trochę nie wiem, co z tą książką zrobić. Z pewnością na pochwałę zasługuje sama forma. Jest to niewątpliwie przepięknie napisana książka, czyta się ją sprawnie, ma bardzo dobrze opisane wewnętrzne rozterki oraz psychologiczny zarys bohatera, jego tendencje do autoanalizy własnych przeżyć i świetnie wykonaną narracją z motywem unreliable narrator.
Jednocześnie jest to książka, za której ideą nie umiem stanąć. Ideą, która jest ze mną sprzeczna wewnętrznie pod tyloma względami. Nie wiem. Rozumiem zamysł Sienkiewicza oraz fakt, że miał to być komentarz społeczny krytykujący ówczesne młode pokolenie, ale jednocześnie ciężko mi zawierzyć, że sam Sienkiewicz nie wlał tam także swoich własnych poglądów. Z pewnością czytałoby mi się to inaczej, gdybym nie wiedział, kto jest autorem, ani w jakim roku oraz etapie jego twórczości zostało wydane. Można byłoby tutaj oczywiście poruszyć temat Barthesa i śmierci autora. Dupa a nie śmierć autora ;/ Książka, która przekazuje takie idee oraz tak mocno wpływa na ówczesne pokolenie, nie powinna być czytana bez analizy tego, które opinie w niej zawarte stanowiły faktyczną krytykę, a które były odbiciem myśli samego autora (np. o kobietach).
Proszę nie zrozumcie mnie źle, ja naprawdę rozumiem, dlaczego ta książka może się podobać. Widzę w niej naprawdę wiele zalet, ale osobiście nie jestem w stanie wystawić temu dziełu dobrej oceny.
Btw cała fabuła by się nie wydarzyła, gdyby Leon frajer znalazł sobie pracę - unemployment final boss.
Jednocześnie jest to książka, za której ideą nie umiem stanąć. Ideą, która jest ze mną sprzeczna wewnętrznie pod tyloma względami. Nie wiem. Rozumiem zamysł Sienkiewicza oraz fakt, że miał to być komentarz społeczny krytykujący ówczesne młode pokolenie, ale jednocześnie ciężko mi zawierzyć, że sam Sienkiewicz nie wlał tam także swoich własnych poglądów. Z pewnością czytałoby mi się to inaczej, gdybym nie wiedział, kto jest autorem, ani w jakim roku oraz etapie jego twórczości zostało wydane. Można byłoby tutaj oczywiście poruszyć temat Barthesa i śmierci autora. Dupa a nie śmierć autora ;/ Książka, która przekazuje takie idee oraz tak mocno wpływa na ówczesne pokolenie, nie powinna być czytana bez analizy tego, które opinie w niej zawarte stanowiły faktyczną krytykę, a które były odbiciem myśli samego autora (np. o kobietach).
Proszę nie zrozumcie mnie źle, ja naprawdę rozumiem, dlaczego ta książka może się podobać. Widzę w niej naprawdę wiele zalet, ale osobiście nie jestem w stanie wystawić temu dziełu dobrej oceny.
Btw cała fabuła by się nie wydarzyła, gdyby Leon frajer znalazł sobie pracę - unemployment final boss.
February 14, 2025
"In the ocean of trouble, evil, foolishness, uncertainties, and doubts we call life, there is one thing worth living for, as certain and as strong as - nay, stronger than - death; and that is love. Beyond it there is nothingness."
...
Any other comment regarding the book is unnecessary...
...
Any other comment regarding the book is unnecessary...
April 18, 2024
kiedyś jeszcze wrócę do tej książki...
January 15, 2025
tak się czuje kiedy nie mam fajek on me: „bez szluga”
March 24, 2025
HENRYKU COŚ TY ZROBIŁ
October 13, 2025
Що таке кохання? Всепоглинаюча сила, яка здатна звести з розуму і поставити навколішки перед манією чи страждання, яке з кожним днем стає все нестерпнішим?
Епістолярний роман про роздуми над справжнім догматом життя "людини без портфеля", яка може стати будь-ким, але немає віри в те. Автор описує циклічність буття, кохання як єдиний догмат в житті, призначення і повинність.
Епістолярний роман про роздуми над справжнім догматом життя "людини без портфеля", яка може стати будь-ким, але немає віри в те. Автор описує циклічність буття, кохання як єдиний догмат в житті, призначення і повинність.
September 2, 2022
Scris ca un jurnal, romanul il are in prim plan pe Leon, un aristocrat de 35 de ani ce respinge ideea de casatorie. Aniela este femeia de care se indragosteste Leon pentru prima data in viata lui si la prima vedere.
Incapabil de a lupta pentru iubire si de a-si urma sentimentele, fara capacitatea de a actiona, o pierde pe Aniela, aceasta casatorindu-se intre timp cu un om de afaceri. Sotul ei se sinucide din cauza esecului in afaceri, ea se imbolnaveste, pierde sarcina si moare, iar Leon decide sa isi puna capat zilelor.
Cateva citate din carte:
"Cine nu stie prin sarguinta sa straluceasca ca soarele, poate macar sa sclipeasca pentru o clipa, ca un meteorit."
"Orice om poarta in el o anumita tragedie."
"Va place mai mult drama iubirii, decat iubirea insasi."
"Nimic nu cucereste, nu atrage mai mult sufletul unui barbat, decat sentimentul ca e iubit."
"-Cat sunteti de orbi! In seceta sociala care domneste acum, in lipsa aceasta generala de fericire prin care se caracterizeaza secolul nostru, in lipsa aceasta de certitudine si speranta sa nu-ti creezi nici macar aceasta fericire, o baza cat de cat! Sa ingheti in forum si nici acasa sa nu aprinzi focul? Mai departe de atat nu poate fi impinsa prostia! Eu iti spun in fata: insoara-te!..."
"Exista-cum spune Dumas-maimute din tara numita Nod, care nu se stiu infrana, dar tu de-aia ai ochi, ca sa nu iei o maimuta din Nod; in genere insa, femeia nu-si insala barbatul si nu-l tradeaza, daca el singur nu-i acela care sa-i strice sau sa-i calce inima in picioare, daca n-o dezgusta ori n-o respinge prin micimea lui, prin egoismul lui, prin ingustimea vederilor, prin natura lui meschina si mizerabila. Deci, trebuie sa iubesti. Ca ea sa nu se simta numai femela ta, ci faptura cea mai scumpa pentru tine, copilul tau, prietenul tau; poart-o la san, ca sa-i fie cald. Si atunci poti fi sigur de ea, atunci, cu fiecare an care trece, se va lipi tot mai mult de tine, pana cand o sa va lipiti de tot, ca gemenii siamezi."
"Esti pretutindeni: deasupra mea, langa mine si in mine"
"Traiesc, precum am mai spus, o existenta vegetala; ma odihnesc, ca un om nespus de ostenit si picotesc mereu de parc-as fi tot timpul cufundat intr-o baie calda. Niciodata nu m-am simtit mai putin capabil de a intreprinde ceva si chiar si gandul de a actiona imi este neplacut. Dac-ar fi sa-mi caut o deviza, as nascoci una care sa sune cam asa: Nu ma treziti!"
"Bunatatea asta imi face impresia luminii de luna: straluceste, dar nu incalzeste."
"...nu i-am mai raspuns deloc; e cel mai putin obositor mijloc de a desface unele legaturi."
"Nostalgia apare tocmai atunci cand ti-e sufletul departe de ceea ce ar trebui sa-l inconjoare in mod firesc."
"Dragostea pentru nevasta altuia, daca e superficiala, e o josnicie, daca este reala, e una din cele mai mari nenorociri care i se pot intampla omului."
"Analiza seamana cu ciugulirea unei flori: cel mai adesea prin analiza strici frumusetea vietii si implicit fericirea - adica singurele lucruri care au vreun sens."
"Omul de azi e constient de tot , dar nu stie sa faca fata la nimic."
Incapabil de a lupta pentru iubire si de a-si urma sentimentele, fara capacitatea de a actiona, o pierde pe Aniela, aceasta casatorindu-se intre timp cu un om de afaceri. Sotul ei se sinucide din cauza esecului in afaceri, ea se imbolnaveste, pierde sarcina si moare, iar Leon decide sa isi puna capat zilelor.
Cateva citate din carte:
"Cine nu stie prin sarguinta sa straluceasca ca soarele, poate macar sa sclipeasca pentru o clipa, ca un meteorit."
"Orice om poarta in el o anumita tragedie."
"Va place mai mult drama iubirii, decat iubirea insasi."
"Nimic nu cucereste, nu atrage mai mult sufletul unui barbat, decat sentimentul ca e iubit."
"-Cat sunteti de orbi! In seceta sociala care domneste acum, in lipsa aceasta generala de fericire prin care se caracterizeaza secolul nostru, in lipsa aceasta de certitudine si speranta sa nu-ti creezi nici macar aceasta fericire, o baza cat de cat! Sa ingheti in forum si nici acasa sa nu aprinzi focul? Mai departe de atat nu poate fi impinsa prostia! Eu iti spun in fata: insoara-te!..."
"Exista-cum spune Dumas-maimute din tara numita Nod, care nu se stiu infrana, dar tu de-aia ai ochi, ca sa nu iei o maimuta din Nod; in genere insa, femeia nu-si insala barbatul si nu-l tradeaza, daca el singur nu-i acela care sa-i strice sau sa-i calce inima in picioare, daca n-o dezgusta ori n-o respinge prin micimea lui, prin egoismul lui, prin ingustimea vederilor, prin natura lui meschina si mizerabila. Deci, trebuie sa iubesti. Ca ea sa nu se simta numai femela ta, ci faptura cea mai scumpa pentru tine, copilul tau, prietenul tau; poart-o la san, ca sa-i fie cald. Si atunci poti fi sigur de ea, atunci, cu fiecare an care trece, se va lipi tot mai mult de tine, pana cand o sa va lipiti de tot, ca gemenii siamezi."
"Esti pretutindeni: deasupra mea, langa mine si in mine"
"Traiesc, precum am mai spus, o existenta vegetala; ma odihnesc, ca un om nespus de ostenit si picotesc mereu de parc-as fi tot timpul cufundat intr-o baie calda. Niciodata nu m-am simtit mai putin capabil de a intreprinde ceva si chiar si gandul de a actiona imi este neplacut. Dac-ar fi sa-mi caut o deviza, as nascoci una care sa sune cam asa: Nu ma treziti!"
"Bunatatea asta imi face impresia luminii de luna: straluceste, dar nu incalzeste."
"...nu i-am mai raspuns deloc; e cel mai putin obositor mijloc de a desface unele legaturi."
"Nostalgia apare tocmai atunci cand ti-e sufletul departe de ceea ce ar trebui sa-l inconjoare in mod firesc."
"Dragostea pentru nevasta altuia, daca e superficiala, e o josnicie, daca este reala, e una din cele mai mari nenorociri care i se pot intampla omului."
"Analiza seamana cu ciugulirea unei flori: cel mai adesea prin analiza strici frumusetea vietii si implicit fericirea - adica singurele lucruri care au vreun sens."
"Omul de azi e constient de tot , dar nu stie sa faca fata la nimic."
June 12, 2025
men are so fucking stupid
March 31, 2014
Fără ideal (Editura Litera) se petrece la sfârșitul secolului XIX, în plin avânt al decadentismului. Henryk Sienkiewicz, scriitorul polonez laureat al premiului Nobel pentru literatură în 1905, pune în discuție, fără s-o cruțe, perioada amintită, roasă de scepticism și incapacitată parcă de o stupoare mentală. Eroul este Leon Ploszowski, un aristocrat tânăr de la care întreaga lume are cele mai mari așteptări pentru că e foarte bine dotat intelectual și provine dintr-o familie așișderea. Și toți șușotesc pe la colțuri: ”Eh, dacă ar vrea să se apuce de ceva!” Numai că bărbatul, ajuns deja la 35 de ani, este copleșit de neputință și căzut într-o atitudine estetică zadarnică. O minte supraanalitică și un rafinament precoce îl osândesc la un soi de paralizie din cauza căreia nu poate mișca în nicio direcție concretă în viață.
Citește continuarea pe Hyperliteratura:
http://hyperliteratura.ro/fara-ideal/
Citește continuarea pe Hyperliteratura:
http://hyperliteratura.ro/fara-ideal/
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