October, Eight O'Clock and Other Stories
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
my pleasure to add another book of Norman Manea's on the tracker! imagine how excited I was to find two books by this author that I had been hoping to find....
like several other items, given these tags of holocaust and shoah...i've doubtless forgotten to tag some uploads with this. while it deals with these events, this book--like most the others--deal to no small degree with the postwar period as well.
A collection of short stories stemming from the Romanian author's detention in a Nazi concentration camp as a child evokes a sense of the horror and absurdity of war and Romanian politics.
never leave. But I soon sensed, through the welcoming thickness of the wool, the glacial silence, ever heavier, becoming unbearable; I could not even hear them breathe. I turned around and walked resolutely toward Mara, and deposited it in the girl’s arms. I looked at it more carefully the next day. It did not seem so extraordinary. First, it had been knitted only out of knots, you could see that. I turned it inside out, I showed it to Mara, to convince her: one knot after another, as though it
put his hand right on the marzipan. His eyes were shut, his fingers tightened around the thick tail of the animal, gasping as he lifted a now even paler face and, come what may, smiled at them. H er dark braids swinging, the fiancee turned on the chande lier; then Rozina suggested, her radiant head in the light, that they turn on the radio. The guest heard nothing but the highpitched voice of the mistress of the house, sublime, you have sublime ideas, Rozie; the little girl approached the radio,
silences between them so horribly. Embarrassment at waiting for something you were in no mood for. In the presence of this odd and shabby teacher, the afternoon’s colors slowly faded. Every day was a whirlwind for the boy. Barely four years had 81 82 N orman M anea passed since the end of the war. He had been parachuted into a sunny valley; sweet-smelling houses, fat aunts, pathetic old men. His eyes, always alert, had barely been able to withstand the bewilderment. The silky sweet
M anea T ranslated by Cornelia Golna, Anselm Hollo, M ara Soceanu Vamos, M ax Bleyleben, and Marguerite Dorian and Elliott B. Urdang ■ GROVE New York WEIDENFELD The stories in this collection have been translated by Cornelia Golna, with thefollowing exceptions: “The Balls of Faded Tam, ” “Weddings,” and “The Partition” by Mara Soceanu Vamos; ‘Tale of the Enchanted Pig” by Marguerite Dorian and Elliott B. Urdang; “Summer” by Max Bleyleben; (CThe Turning Point" by Anselm Hollo. Copyright ©
seems like a straight line. It’s only when the heart stops that the oscillations disappear from the screen, when the final point slides down to the horizontal, toward perfect stasis. Despite his recovery, his pulse still indicated some vaguely suspect fibrilla tions; adding these up, one got the asymptote that alone distin guishes those infinitesimal differences, which at first seem to be caused by an error of reading, from the calm horizontal. So it wasn’t extinction yet; it was possible to