“Adorno once remarked that “every intellectual in emigration is, without exception, mutilated,”
― Time's Echo: The Second World War, the Holocaust, and the Music of Remembrance
― Time's Echo: The Second World War, the Holocaust, and the Music of Remembrance
“For Schoenberg, equally discordant were the social expectations of his adoptive home, with all its backslapping optimism and compulsory cheerfulness. “It is difficult for us to smile incessantly,” he explained to one old friend, “when we would like to spit, to spit fire….[O]n no account may one speak the truth here—even when one knows it; even when the other does not know it; even when the other wants to know it: for that is the game.”
― Time's Echo: The Second World War, the Holocaust, and the Music of Remembrance
― Time's Echo: The Second World War, the Holocaust, and the Music of Remembrance
“Lord, she says, can’t you see that my idler of a sister has left me to do all the work? Why don’t you tell her to lend me a hand? Or something to that effect. And Jesus, He replies: Martha, you are troubled by too many things when only one thing is needful. And it is Mary who has chosen the better way.”
― The Lincoln Highway
― The Lincoln Highway
“Brecht wrote, “Nothing I do gives me the right to eat my fill.” The playwright, who had tossed his editions of Lenin’s collected works into Los Angeles harbor before arrival, vented in his diary about the rampant commercialism. “Here,” he wrote, “you are constantly either a buyer or a seller. You sell your piss, as it were, to the urinal.”
― Time's Echo: The Second World War, the Holocaust, and the Music of Remembrance
― Time's Echo: The Second World War, the Holocaust, and the Music of Remembrance
Mike’s 2025 Year in Books
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