Władysław Szpilman
Čítané: 12/2017
Počet strán: 235
Väzba: Pevná
Vydavateľstvo: premedia
Rok vydania: 1998/2017
Anotácia: Malý zástup viedol esesák, ktorý ako každý Nemec miloval deti, najmä tie, ktoré mal poslať na onen svet. Osobitne sa mu zapáčil 12 ročný chlapec- huslista, ktorý si svoj nástroj niesol v podpazuší. Prikázal mu, aby šiel na čele sprievodu a hral. Takto sa vydali na[...]
“Ak som chcel prežiť, musel som byť osamelý, celkom sám.” Názov: Pianista Autor: Władysław Szpilman Rok vydania v originálnom jazyku: 1946 Žáner: vojnové, autobiografické, historické, hudobné Séria: Diel: “Dnes som bol taký osamelý ako žiadny iný človek na svete. Keď Defoe tvoril ideálny obraz osamelého človeka Robinsona Crusoa, … Čítať ďalej Pianista
Z anglického originálu- The PianistŽáner- vojnové Preklad- Alexander HorákSéria- /Počet strán- 240Väzba- pevná väzba s obalomRok vydania- 2017Vydavateľstvo- IkarČítané- jún 2017Viac informácií o titule nájdete na tomto odkaze.Čítaj ďalej...:)
Skladateľovi Władysławovi Szpilmanovi zachránila život hudba, a nie raz. Spomienky mladého poľského hudobníka opisujú vojnové roky v okupovanej Varšave od septembra 1939 až do konca vojny. Jeho kniha teraz vyšla v slovenčine. Prečítajte si z nej úryvok.
The last live broadcast on Polish Radio, on September 23, 1939, was Chopin's Nocturne in C# Minor, played by a young pianist named Wladyslaw Szpilman, until his playing was interrupted by German shelling. It was the same piece and the same pianist, when… ...
The last live broadcast on Polish Radio, on September 23, 1939, was Chopin's Nocturne in C# Minor, played by a young pianist named Wladyslaw Szpilman, until his playing was interrupted by German shelling. It was the same piece and the same pianist, when broadcasting was resumed six years later. The Pianist is Szpilman's account of the years inbetween, of the death and cruelty inflicted on the Jews of Warsaw and on Warsaw itself, related with a dispassionate restraint borne of shock. Szpilman, now 88, has not looked at his description since he wrote it in 1946 (the same time as Primo Levi's If This Is A Man?; it is too personally painful. The rest of us have no such excuse.
Szpilman's family were deported to Treblinka, where they were exterminated; he survived only because a music-loving policeman recognised him. This was only the first in a series of fatefully lucky escapes that littered his life as he hid among the rubble and corpses of the Warsaw Ghetto, growing thinner and hungrier, yet condemned to live. Ironically it was a German officer, Wilm Hosenfeld, who saved Szpilman's life by bringing food and an eiderdown to the derelict ruin where he discovered him. Hosenfeld died seven years later in a Stalingrad labour camp, but portions of his diary, reprinted here, tell of his outraged incomprehension of the madness and evil he witnessed, thereby establishing an effective counterpoint to ground the nightmarish vision of the pianist in a desperate reality. Szpilman originally published his account in Poland in 1946, but it was almost immediately withdrawn by Stalin's Polish minions as it unashamedly described collaborations by Lithuanians, Ukrainians, Poles and Jews with the Nazis. In 1997 it was published in Germany after Szpilman's son found it on his father's bookcase. This admirably robust translation by Anthea Bell is the first in the English language. There were 3,500,000 Jews in Poland before the Nazi occupation; after it there were 240,000. Wladyslaw Szpilman's extraordinary account of his own miraculous survival offers a voice across the years for the faceless millions who lost their lives. --David Vincent
