[Read] ♿ Записки из Мёртвого дома ☪ Tyrakel.de

. . [Read] ☫ Записки из Мёртвого дома ⚒ Accused Of Political Subversion As A Young Man, Fyodor Dostoyevsky Was Sentenced To Four Years Of Hard Labor At A Siberian Prison Camp A Horrifying Experience From Which He Developed This Astounding Semi Autobiographical Memoir Of A Man Condemned To Ten Years Of Servitude For Murdering His WifeAs With A Number Of The Author S Other Works, This Profoundly Influential Novel Brilliantly Explores His Characters Thoughts While Probing The Depths Of The Human Soul Describing In Relentless Detail The Physical And Mental Suffering Of The Convicts, Dostoyevsky S Character Never Loses Faith In Human Qualities And The Goodness Of ManA Haunting And Remarkable Work Filled With Wonder And Resignation, The House Of The Dead Ranks Among The Russian Novelist S Greatest Masterpieces Of This Powerful Autobiographical Novel, Tolstoy Wrote, I Know No Better Book In All Modern Literature . Nosotros somos hombres destrozados, triturados, deshechos dec an no tenemos entra as Por eso gritamos de nocheNo existe para m mejor Dostoievski que el autobiogr fico Fue, es y ser el mejor conocedor del alma humana de todos los tiempos , como dec a Zweig pero, para llegar a esa profundidad, le fue necesario empezar con la suya propia y La Casa de los Muertos es un libro en el que el Dostoievski hombre se camufla en el personaje ficticio de Alexander Petrovich para narrar sus penurias en la prisi n de Siberia La detenci n de Dostoievski en 1849 junto con el grupo revolucionario ut pico de Petrachevsky y el posterior del simulacro de su fusilamiento algo que lo marcar a a fuego y que narrar a magistralmente a trav s de las palabras del Pr ncipe Mishkin en El Idiota derivaron en su posterior reclusi n en Siberia y no iba a ser el mismo Dostoievski el que atravesara el port n de salida cuatro a os despu s.Dice en otra parte del libroAs pues, hab a vivido sin libros, encerrado en m mismo, plante ndome cuestiones, que intentaba resolver, y cuya soluci n me atormentaba frecuentemente Pero jam s podr expresar todo esto Ni l ni ning n otro hombre puede ser mismo en su vida a partir de una experiencia como esta Incluso, Dostoievski afirma que para l era m s dif cil tener que convivir con todo lo que esto conlleva cotidianamente con asesinos, hombres embrutecidos, salvajes y delincuentes, que estar privado de la libertad que gozaba tiempo atr s.Las distintas experiencias vividas en el presidio son contadas en forma frontal, visceral por momentos, pero nunca de a oranza a los viejos tiempos ni de arrepentimiento l fue un hombre que supo aceptar y afrontar las desgracias de su vida con hombr a y sin flaquezas, m s que las f sicas, dado que toda su vida padeci de epilepsia De hecho, tres cap tulos de la segunda parte transcurren en el hospital donde fue internado por esta enfermedad.Otro de los aspectos que Dostoievski desarrolla en profundidad es el de las cadenas y hierros que ten an que soportar sobre el cuerpo los prisioneros, algo que cobra real dimensi n cuando narra la experiencia de cuando deb an ba arse todos juntos en una especie de infierno de vapor y calor intolerable.Tambi n es realmente crudo el modo en que nos cuenta la forma en la que los prisioneros eran azotados en sus espaldas y esto se relacionaba directamente a la gravedad de las penas que cumpl an Estos eran castigados en sus espaldas con varazos que iban de los 500 hasta los 2000 y se hac an en tandas, dado que era normal que el prisionero se desmayara luego de infligirles semejante un castigo tan violento en sus espaldas Otros, directamente no lograban sobrevivir a este suplicio.Cabe destacar tambi n que durante todos los d as estaban sometidos a trabajos forzosos sin misericordia El castigo era la consecuencia irreversible y rec proca que se relacionaba al crimen cometido por el prisionero.La primera parte culmina con dos cap tulos que otorgan cierto alivio a tanto sufrimiento y crudeza y que tratan dos temas comunes a cualquier ser humano, por un lado la Navidad y por el otro, la posibilidad de algunos presidiarios de formar parte de una obra de teatro, lo cual es una manera de liberar tensiones a trav s de un personaje en acto.En l neas generales y m s all de que por momentos ciertos pasajes de lecturas son terribles, es un libro al que le doy cinco estrellas, dado que lo que surge de lo narrado aqu , fue clave que todo admirador de Dostoievsk i y los que quieran conocer sobre su vida pueda comprender esa es la palabra el por qu de muchas de las acciones y vivencias que experimentar n los personajes de sus novelas partir de 1850 y tambi n una prueba de la fortaleza moral y la entereza humana que Dostoievski tuvo que sostener para no sucumbir en la vida. , , , , , ,, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,, , , , , , , , , ,, , , , , , , , , ,, During the first weeks, and naturally the early part of my imprisonment, made a deep impression on my imagination The following years on the other hand are all mixed up together, and leave but a confused recollection Certain epochs of this life are even effaced from my memory I have kept one general impression of it though, always the same painful, monotonous, stifling What I saw in experience during the first few days of imprisonment seems to me as if it had all taken place yesterday Such was the case These words arrive quite early on, and set the scene for Fyodor Dostoyevsky s extraordinary, heartened, semi fictional account of the internment he endured in a Siberian prison camp after being sentenced to four years of hard labour for his involvement in a revolutionary conspiracy Dostoyevsky completed this work six years after his release, and across its two main sections you can feel him organising his memories, vividly revising them, and struggling to get them down before they fade Under the circumstances, he did a remarkable job, after all, I am sure he would rather have written about something else, but his experiences are that important, he simply had to get it down on paper Few books give such a vivid picture of the sort of setting from which many great works of prison literature emerge, the power of certain writing done from prison has to do with the way it alternatively staves off and gives rein to restlessness, fervour, and desperation Dostoyevsky s narrator insists even the most docile prisoners sometimes need an anguished, convulsive recklessly hopeful display of personality Most of the book s action revolves around the convicts attempts to make room for some colour and change in their days, but this is obviously limited, card games, knife fights, thefts, drinking sprees, escape attempts, holiday celebrations, a play, anything to stop madness setting setting in But the most dramatic such attempt in the novel is the shape of the narrative itself Alexander Petrovich is a bit of a sloppy storyteller He keeps filling in background information belatedly, as many of the novel s chapters are really loose assemblages of anecdotes and essayistic fragments In a way, The House of the Dead is constantly at odds with its subject matter wherever the narrative calls for a dreary roll call of routine tasks and daily humiliations, the book darts off, digresses or swerves to the side Which makes me ask the question, why didn t Dostoyevsky just write an out and out autobiographical account of his experience This felt to me like a brother version of Solzhenitsyn s One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich , but with less of the bleak, fully clear, almost documentary style narrative To be fair, the book moves around genres really well, shifting fluidly between fiction, philosophical meditation, and memoir I was expecting somethinghard hitting, and emotionally draining from the reader s perspective, that would long live in the memory, but it fell short of this There are however, for Dostoyevsky fans plenty of lovely philosophical musings, where the narrator ponders the nature of freedom and the importance of hope, the inequality of punishments for the same crime, the gap between appearance and reality, the nature of free will, and other heavy themes.To me, it was like standing just outside the prison gates getting a glimpse, rather than truly feeling the blood, sweat, and tears from within Very well written it s Dostoyevsky after all , just not entirely what I had hoped for. 1984 20 7 2016 Zapiski iz Myortvovo doma Souvenirs de Ia maison des morts The House of the Dead Memoirs from the House of The Dead, Fyodor DostoyevskyThe House of the Dead is a semi autobiographical novel published in 1860 2 in the journal Vremya by Russian author Fyodor Dostoevsky, which portrays the life of convicts in a Siberian prison camp The novel has also been published under the titles Memoirs from the House of The Dead, Notes from the Dead House or Notes from a Dead House , and Notes from the House of the Dead The book is a loosely knit collection of facts, events and philosophical discussion organised by theme rather than as a continuous story Dostoevsky himself spent four years in exile in such a camp following his conviction for involvement in the Petrashevsky Circle This experience allowed him to describe with great authenticity the conditions of prison life and the characters of the convicts.The narrator, Aleksandr Petrovich Goryanchikov, has been sentenced to penalty deportation to Siberia and ten years of hard labour for murdering his wife Life in prison is particularly hard for Aleksandr Petrovich, since he is a gentleman and suffers the malice of the other prisoners, nearly all of whom belong to the peasantry Gradually Goryanchikov overcomes his revulsion at his situation and his fellow convicts, undergoing a spiritual re awakening that culminates with his release from the camp It is a work of great humanity Dostoevsky portrays the inmates of the prison with sympathy for their plight, and also expresses admiration for their energy, ingenuity and talent He concludes that the existence of the prison, with its absurd practices and savage corporal punishments is a tragic fact, both for the prisoners and for Russia 1969 1335 432 1341 1366 431 1391 402 978964663821 1394 629 9786001215995 19 1392 424 9789644530388 1341 328 1370 320 1389 390 9789643515294 I have been frequenting an open air restaurant for 7 years now Hiding on the roof of a rickety building, in one of the small tributaries of the Jaipur s busiest road, it is aptly named Cocoon The place is shady, unknown, and visited only by international tourists living in its cheap guest house.Nothing unusual seemed to happen at that place and nothing unusual did happen the last time I visited it I drank two cups of hot lemon tea, I followed short arcs sketched by listless eagles in the evening sky, I breathed in volumes of busy city smoke but while leaving for home, as I turned on the ignition key of my bike, I caught hold of a loud, clear, distinct feeling It was so distinct that I did not know at first what it was trying to convey that is to say, my natural thinking process had reverted to a background noise and I could only listen with attention to the wordless outwardly buzz around my ears and inside my chest, which seemed to be growing keener and keener I stood motionless for a second or two, and then, a picture of a shop flashed inside the head I turned my head to find the same shop in the ground floor of that building 7 years and I had never once noticed that shop From across the street, it appeared to be a wholesaler s office, with its glass partition displaying drawing and craft notebooks, paper thin local guides to health and fitness, bedroom life, and tourism in Rajasthan Curious, however, I trudged towards the store, my attention fixed mostly on that outwardly buzz which I wasn t hearing if it can be called hearing for the first time The store was large and largely empty Two men were gossiping in the middle of the room across an unbalanced wooden table, which, helped by either one s dangling feet, made a rhythmic thud thud It stopped abruptly the thud thud, and the the gossiping too, and they looked up surprised to find a visitor I caught their amazed disoriented gaze, but, to avoid any verbal distractions, I looked towards a shelf on my immediate right I was at once stunned.Dostoyevsky, Turgenev, Pasternak, Gibran hard copy editions of rarest of their works, thick with time and grime, casually stacked together in a single shelf With my mouth half open, I plugged out 10 titles, not once leafing through them, not once checking the blurb, and plopped the bulk on the owner s creaking desk.He too was excited but he concealed it, and overcharged me I did not cross check the MRP nor did I request for a discount he may have charged me evenand I would have happily emptied my wallet Such was my state I felt unworldly What did it matter which books I was buying, at what price and who from Trifles Mere trifles What mattered was that I see through the task, witness what I was being shown, stay connected The buzzing humming feeling had now enlarged and transmuted into a quietude donning my whole being not the other way round I returned home after a short ride, but I was now proud for some reason and happy the quietude only a memory, an object for analysis For rationalizations I dusted the books, and arranged them neatly on my desk, as if they were sacred idols I was going to worship every day For 6 months I did not go to them laziness, thoughtlessness, fear The books would change me somehow, I knew, and I wasn t too prepared to let go of whatever they may ask me to let go of No, not unless the sentries of my rational mind were welcoming and unsuspicious And here now I am, reading, having read Something indeed did happen Something unidentifiable But what exactly did the book do So that my intellect does not become restless, I will give it a word to chew over and flaunt Not the same word Leo Tolstoy used for this work edifying not the same word that settled on my mind for Dostoyevsky s influence on an aspiring writer uncorrupting but purging The book purged me, emptied me, humbled me cleaned me of the grime I had gathered over time.This book is sacred.