HERMANN BROCH DEATH OF VIRGIL PDF

Translated by Jean Starr Untermeyer. New York, Pantheon Books, Broch, the author of The Sleepwalkers, is one of the few modern writers from whom a great thing is to be expected. Now here is this endless and arduous monologue of the dying Virgil, the work of many years and long awaited by serious readers. It is a book shot through with the troubles and personal revaluations of one who, like many others, was shaken by the persecutions of the last years. After a single reading, I cannot fairly judge of the importance of The Death of Virgil.

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Shelves: dream-like , do-you-take-me-for-an-idiot , So, I finished. What I want to know is, where is my prize? This is definitely a book that needs to come with a merit certificate at the finish line. A purportedly stream of consciousness serving as Virgils swan song in Brundisium, it is a tax on consciousness and a stream of strum. Which apparently reads as a poem in German, and a labour of, well, labour in English. As is my wont, I approached with no background ammo: let the text speak, hear, hear.

Right at the beginning I floundered: an So, I finished. In depth, and existentially. It jarred. Evil is a conscious choice whereas crowds have no consciousness.

Quick look up: and yes. Broch wrote DOV whilst incarcerated by the Nazis and suffering terrible deprivations. Herein lies the greatest problem with this tome. Effectively, he rewrites Virgil through the kaleidoscope of 20c mantra. At first cautiously introducing themes of rebirth and existential extrapolations on time and being lifted directly from Heidegger , and finally abandoning all subtlety and throwing in the Messianic birth to a Virgin and the ensuing holy trinity as a prophecy, 20 years before the birth of Christ and on page Like I said: jarrrrrrrr.

He is. But lets not quibble. OK, so Virgil is a randomly chosen vehicle for existential angst. So, what have we got? Well, holy shmoly. But so. At the top of the pyramid I put sfumato. Equally opposing forces drawn kicking and screaming into an unholy unity. Or rather, Broch fails to sew it all up together. And subsequently, here comes Plotia. Now, an aside.

Virgil seems, by all counts, to have been a homosexual individual. He allegedly had an affinity to a woman called Plotia, but refused carnal relations with her. And he also worshiped his mother. I say Platonic because Broch says it. Can he possibly not know what platonic love is? Now, I do find the fleshless union with Plotia, along with part 4, the Homecoming, to be the most lyrical and magical renditions in the book, but still.

So finally, why doth one need a prize for ploughing through this black lava flow of a narrative? No wonder it defeats many, many readers.

Of course, what with me being older and wiser, I know exactly how to handle this type of situation. Next I add a splash of Stoli and a sprinkle of Drambui. Well, a thumb full. Half a cup. Thats it? No way. What just happened. Surely he was also the boundlessness aiming towards the flight! Not a good thing to have two cocktails at once.

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The Death of Virgil, by Hermann Broch

In he converted to Roman Catholicism and married Franziska von Rothermann, the daughter of a knighted manufacturer. His marriage ended in divorce in In he sold the textile factory and decided to study mathematics , philosophy and psychology at the University of Vienna. He embarked on a full-time literary career only around the age of With the annexation of Austria by the Nazis , Broch was arrested in the small Alpine town of Bad Aussee for possession of a socialist magazine but was soon released.

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Shelves: dream-like , do-you-take-me-for-an-idiot , So, I finished. What I want to know is, where is my prize? This is definitely a book that needs to come with a merit certificate at the finish line. A purportedly stream of consciousness serving as Virgils swan song in Brundisium, it is a tax on consciousness and a stream of strum. Which apparently reads as a poem in German, and a labour of, well, labour in English. As is my wont, I approached with no background ammo: let the text speak, hear, hear.

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