What do you think?
Rate this book
Къщичка под снега
96 pages, Unknown Binding
2 people want to read
About the author
Emilian Stanev
51 books25 followersEmilian Stanev Емилиян Станев was the pseudonym Nikola Stoyanov Stanev (Никола Стоянов Станев), a 20th-century Bulgarian prose writer. Also spelled as Emiliian Stanev or Emiliyan Stanev.
Stanev was born in Veliko Tarnovo in 1907 and spent his childhood in Tarnovo and Elena, where he long lived with his family. From an early age, his father would take him to his hunting outings in the open, which influenced Stanev's later work, where nature is often described. In 1928, he finished the Elena high school as a private student and moved to Sofia, where he studied painting under Tseno Todorov. In the 1930s, he enrolled in Finances and Credit in Free University of Political and Economic Sciences, (today University of National end World Economy in Sofia). In 1932–1944, he was an office worker of the Capital Municipality and in 1945 he was the director of the hunting reserve in the village of BukovetsStanev published his first works in 1931. He was active in a number of magazines and newspapers: he headed the fiction department of the
Literary Front newspaper and published in Fate, Testaments, Art and Critic, Goldhorn, Wreath, Bulgarian Speech, etc. Stanev wrote tales involving animals, social and philosophical prose, historical novels and novelettes. During his stay in Sofia he was an acquaintance of the city's leading intellectuals who had a strong influence on his later works. Stanev's first book was a collection of short stories named Tempting Glitters issued in 1938. His next book was the collection Alone from 1940, which set forth a series of works devoted to the relations between man and nature. The books to follow were Wolfish Nights (1943), Workdays and Holidays (1945), Wild Bird (1946), In a Silent Night (1948). One of his last and best-known works, The Peach Thief, was published in 1948 and filmed in 1964. After 1950, he worked for 14 years on his novel Ivan Kondarev describing the events surrounding the September Uprising of 1923. Stanev also authored many books for children and teenagers, such as Through Forests and Waters (1943), The Greedy Bear Cub (1944), Tale of a Forest (1948), When the Frost Melts (1950) and Chernishka (1950).
Stanev was born in Veliko Tarnovo in 1907 and spent his childhood in Tarnovo and Elena, where he long lived with his family. From an early age, his father would take him to his hunting outings in the open, which influenced Stanev's later work, where nature is often described. In 1928, he finished the Elena high school as a private student and moved to Sofia, where he studied painting under Tseno Todorov. In the 1930s, he enrolled in Finances and Credit in Free University of Political and Economic Sciences, (today University of National end World Economy in Sofia). In 1932–1944, he was an office worker of the Capital Municipality and in 1945 he was the director of the hunting reserve in the village of BukovetsStanev published his first works in 1931. He was active in a number of magazines and newspapers: he headed the fiction department of the
Literary Front newspaper and published in Fate, Testaments, Art and Critic, Goldhorn, Wreath, Bulgarian Speech, etc. Stanev wrote tales involving animals, social and philosophical prose, historical novels and novelettes. During his stay in Sofia he was an acquaintance of the city's leading intellectuals who had a strong influence on his later works. Stanev's first book was a collection of short stories named Tempting Glitters issued in 1938. His next book was the collection Alone from 1940, which set forth a series of works devoted to the relations between man and nature. The books to follow were Wolfish Nights (1943), Workdays and Holidays (1945), Wild Bird (1946), In a Silent Night (1948). One of his last and best-known works, The Peach Thief, was published in 1948 and filmed in 1964. After 1950, he worked for 14 years on his novel Ivan Kondarev describing the events surrounding the September Uprising of 1923. Stanev also authored many books for children and teenagers, such as Through Forests and Waters (1943), The Greedy Bear Cub (1944), Tale of a Forest (1948), When the Frost Melts (1950) and Chernishka (1950).
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
March 23, 2025
Това беше моята първа книга на български. Историята беше доста напрегната. Заекът беше много смел.
December 27, 2025
Не бях чел Ем. Станев като дете. Допада ми описателния стил на изреченията и многообразието от думи, които използва.
December 13, 2025
A poignant and visually rich narrative that speaks to themes of resilience, perseverance, and defiance against the cyclical nature of oppression. The story revolves around a rabbit whose home, once built in the peace and tranquility of the snow, is repeatedly destroyed by the harsh forces of nature. Despite the unrelenting destruction, the rabbit rebuilds each time, demonstrating an enduring spirit of hope and determination.
At its core, The Little House in the Snow can be viewed as a metaphor for resistance against external forces that seek to control or destroy the individual. The rabbit, in its repeated attempts to rebuild its home, reflects an inherent struggle against the limitations imposed by external powers—be they natural, societal, or political. The book subtly addresses how such forces can disrupt personal peace and stability, while also demonstrating the unyielding nature of the protagonist’s will to maintain autonomy, no matter the cost. This is a quintessentially anti-authoritarian theme, one that encourages readers—particularly young ones—to question systems of control and the inevitability of suffering imposed by higher powers. The rabbit’s defiance, in the face of destruction, is an inspiring call to persevere in the face of adversity, even when the forces working against you appear insurmountable.
Stanev’s writing is simple yet evocative, perfectly suited for a children's picture book while managing to evoke deeper emotional responses. The repetitive structure of the story—each rebuilding attempt after the destruction—mirrors the cyclical nature of struggle and renewal. While the story itself is simple, Stanev’s choice to emphasize the emotional weight of these cycles adds a layer of depth that elevates the narrative beyond a mere tale of survival. The lyrical, rhythmic quality of the prose paired with soft, tender illustrations of the snowy landscape enhances the book's atmospheric impact, enveloping the reader in the peaceful yet fragile world the rabbit inhabits.
The story’s simplicity, however, might make it more suited for younger readers, and older audiences may find themselves wishing for a deeper exploration of the themes. Still, the beauty of the narrative lies in its ability to communicate universal struggles through a child’s lens, allowing for layers of meaning to unfold depending on the reader's perspective.
Stanev’s work invites readers to reflect critically on the concept of home, resilience, and the fight for personal space in the face of external adversity. For young readers, this might prompt important discussions about the value of persistence in the face of setbacks, and how personal autonomy and peace are often threatened by uncontrollable forces. The rabbit’s ability to rebuild each time also sparks an exploration of hope versus despair, and how the cycle of destruction may not always result in complete loss.
For older readers, the story invites a deeper reflection on the nature of systems that repeatedly destroy what is precious and how individuals can reclaim their space within a world that seems determined to break them down. There are clear allegorical readings that can tie the rabbit’s struggle to larger political and social frameworks, especially regarding the cyclical nature of oppression.
The Little House in the Snow is a beautifully crafted tale of resilience against overwhelming odds. Through simple yet profound storytelling, Emilian Stanev encourages readers of all ages to think critically about the forces that shape their lives, and the power of perseverance in the face of seemingly insurmountable challenges. Though aimed at a young audience, the book’s anti-authoritarian themes, emotional depth, and delicate handling of suffering make it an impactful read for adults as well. The story’s repeated cycle of destruction and renewal serves as a powerful reminder that while forces beyond our control may seem destined to tear us down, the will to rebuild is an act of resistance in itself.
At its core, The Little House in the Snow can be viewed as a metaphor for resistance against external forces that seek to control or destroy the individual. The rabbit, in its repeated attempts to rebuild its home, reflects an inherent struggle against the limitations imposed by external powers—be they natural, societal, or political. The book subtly addresses how such forces can disrupt personal peace and stability, while also demonstrating the unyielding nature of the protagonist’s will to maintain autonomy, no matter the cost. This is a quintessentially anti-authoritarian theme, one that encourages readers—particularly young ones—to question systems of control and the inevitability of suffering imposed by higher powers. The rabbit’s defiance, in the face of destruction, is an inspiring call to persevere in the face of adversity, even when the forces working against you appear insurmountable.
Stanev’s writing is simple yet evocative, perfectly suited for a children's picture book while managing to evoke deeper emotional responses. The repetitive structure of the story—each rebuilding attempt after the destruction—mirrors the cyclical nature of struggle and renewal. While the story itself is simple, Stanev’s choice to emphasize the emotional weight of these cycles adds a layer of depth that elevates the narrative beyond a mere tale of survival. The lyrical, rhythmic quality of the prose paired with soft, tender illustrations of the snowy landscape enhances the book's atmospheric impact, enveloping the reader in the peaceful yet fragile world the rabbit inhabits.
The story’s simplicity, however, might make it more suited for younger readers, and older audiences may find themselves wishing for a deeper exploration of the themes. Still, the beauty of the narrative lies in its ability to communicate universal struggles through a child’s lens, allowing for layers of meaning to unfold depending on the reader's perspective.
Stanev’s work invites readers to reflect critically on the concept of home, resilience, and the fight for personal space in the face of external adversity. For young readers, this might prompt important discussions about the value of persistence in the face of setbacks, and how personal autonomy and peace are often threatened by uncontrollable forces. The rabbit’s ability to rebuild each time also sparks an exploration of hope versus despair, and how the cycle of destruction may not always result in complete loss.
For older readers, the story invites a deeper reflection on the nature of systems that repeatedly destroy what is precious and how individuals can reclaim their space within a world that seems determined to break them down. There are clear allegorical readings that can tie the rabbit’s struggle to larger political and social frameworks, especially regarding the cyclical nature of oppression.
The Little House in the Snow is a beautifully crafted tale of resilience against overwhelming odds. Through simple yet profound storytelling, Emilian Stanev encourages readers of all ages to think critically about the forces that shape their lives, and the power of perseverance in the face of seemingly insurmountable challenges. Though aimed at a young audience, the book’s anti-authoritarian themes, emotional depth, and delicate handling of suffering make it an impactful read for adults as well. The story’s repeated cycle of destruction and renewal serves as a powerful reminder that while forces beyond our control may seem destined to tear us down, the will to rebuild is an act of resistance in itself.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews