The ​Tragedy of Man 4 csillagozás

Imre Madách: The Tragedy of Man Imre Madách: The Tragedy of Man Imre Madách: The Tragedy of Man Imre Madách: The Tragedy of Man Imre Madách: The Tragedy of Man

The ​Tragedy of Man is the most controversial work in the long history of Hungarian literature. When it was first published in 1862, it was hailed as a great achievement, but at the same time it-gave rise to a multitude of questions, both literary and philosophical, that have been fiercely debated ever since. It is also one of the most surprising works in Hungarian: it appeared suddenly from the pen of an unknown author and had no obvious antecedents in the Hungarian literary tradition. Moreover, there is nothing, apart from a passing reference(…), to brand it as Hungarian – a unique phenomenon at a time when Madách's contemporaries were agonising over the failure of the revolution of 1848 and its repercussions on national life and expectations. How then did a Hungarian country gentleman who spent most of his short life at home and rarely travelled outside his native country come to write a dramatic poem that takes its place in a broad European tradition represented by such giant… (tovább)

Eredeti megjelenés éve: 1862

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Forgotten Books, London, 2012
230 oldal · puhatáblás · ISBN: 9781440032974
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Corvina, Budapest, 2009
270 oldal · puhatáblás · ISBN: 9789631358506 · Fordította: Christina Rozsnyai
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Fekete Sas, Szeszárd, 1999
210 oldal · puhatáblás · ISBN: 9638254653 · Fordította: Thomas R. Mark · Illusztrálta: György Buday

4 további kiadás


Kedvencelte 1

Várólistára tette 2

Kívánságlistára tette 2


Kiemelt értékelések

Ad3lka>!
Imre Madách: The Tragedy of Man

„A dreadful world! – The best thing is to die.
I won't regret the world I leave behind.
Ah Lucifer! That I who once stood beside
The cradle of humanity and knew
What mighty hopes attended on his rocking,
Who fought beside him in his every battle,
That I should now survey this monstrous grave
Which nature has entangled in her shroud!
I, then the first, and now the last of men,
Would like to know the manner of our going.
Did we die bravely, fighting to the last
Or miserably shrink from post to post,
Undignified, unworthy of lament?”

Izgalmas volt angol közvetítésben olvasni ezt a remekművet, külön élménynek bizonyult, hogy több külföldi véleményét is megismerhettem vele kapcsolatban. Szerintem kifejezetten jól sikerült a fordítás, szépen megragadta az egyes részek esszenciáját. Egy kis agytornának is jó volt, nehogy elkopjon a nyelvtudásom, merem ajánlani azoknak, akik magyarul már olvasták.


Népszerű idézetek

Kikicsglory>!

I grew tired of second place,
Of life's unchanging ordered pace
The piping choirs, their childish song
Of praise without a word of wrong.
I long for conflict and for strife
To bring new potent words to life
Where souls might grow in probity,
When some brave souls might follow me.

39. oldal

Kikicsglory>!

Even in art the true perfection lies
In concealing art from the observer's eyes

168. oldal

Kikicsglory>!

The spirit of the age defends these walls
And it is stronger than you, that is why.

129. oldal

Ad3lka>!

A dreadful world! – The best thing is to die.
I won't regret the world I leave behind.
Ah Lucifer! That I who once stood beside
The cradle of humanity and knew
What mighty hopes attended on his rocking,
Who fought beside him in his every battle,
That I should now survey this monstrous grave
Which nature has entangled in her shroud!
I, then the first, and now the last of men,
Would like to know the manner of our going.
Did we die bravely, fighting to the last
Or miserably shrink from post to post,
Undignified, unworthy of lament?

Kikicsglory>!

ADAM : Liberty, Equality, Fraternity! –
CROWD: And death to those who fail to recognize them!

147. oldal

Kikicsglory>!

Like hymns it sounds good from a certain height,
All croaks and sighs and moans are sweetly mingled
And sound delightful once they reach us here. –
God hears it this way too, and that is why
He thinks his world is such a great success.

172. oldal

Kikicsglory>!

You see the foolinshness of all your kind
Who regard a woman merely as an object
Of passion, and brush the bloom of poetry
From her brow with horny hands, and rob yourself
of love's most tender and enchanting blossom;
Then raise her, like a goddess, on an altar
And bleed for her and struggle pointlessly
While her kisses languish in sterility. –
Why not respect and honour her as a woman
Within the appointed sphere of womanhood?

126. oldal


Ezt a könyvet itt említik


Hasonló könyvek címkék alapján

Johann Wolfgang Goethe: Faust (angol)
Henrik Ibsen: A Doll's House
Reginald Rose: Twelve Angry Men
Percy Bysshe Shelley: Prometheus Unbound
Henrik Ibsen: Hedda Gabler (angol)
Tennessee Williams: A Streetcar Named Desire
William Shakespeare: Romeo and Juliet
Thornton Wilder: Our Town
William Shakespeare: Hamlet, Prince of Denmark / Hamlet, dán királyfi
T. S. Eliot: Cocktail Party