This ​Above All 2 csillagozás

Eric Knight: This Above All Eric Knight: This Above All

Spending leave together on the South Coast during the Battle of Britain and the beginning of the blitz, Clive and Prudence have an affair. Having survived Dunkirk, but having a crisis of conscience over what the war is being fought for and disgusted at the incompetence of the ruling elite, Clive decides not to return to the Army and to go absent without leave.

Eredeti megjelenés éve: 1941

558 oldal · ASIN: B085T6VHRW
644 oldal · ASIN: B081LB61HX
Queens House, 1977
474 oldal · keménytáblás · ISBN: 9780892440474

Kiemelt értékelések

Eric Knight: This Above All

Ez is egyike az elviselhetetlen végű történeteknek (nekem a Pullman-trilógia és Mikszáth Fekete városa ilyen, na meg a görög tragédiák), amiket időnként szívesen újraolvasnék, hogy hátha legközelebb másképp végződnek – de nem, minden mondat kérlelhetetlen logikával megy előre a végkifejletig, és semmi sem történhetett volna másképp.

Pontosan olyan megrázó és elgondolkodtató volt tizenhat évesen olvasni, mint most, felnőttebb fejjel, ahogy Clive és Prudence egymás megismerése közben a legalapvetőbb morális kérdéseken mennek végig egy háború közepén – és keresik a választ, hogy kicsoda, micsoda is egy ember igazából, mit keresünk a világban, és mi az a legbelsőbb alapelv, ami cselekvésre indít bennünket, akár az életünk árán is.

Nekem főleg az ő beszélgetéseikről szólt ez a könyv. Amúgy látom, hogy társadalmi körképet akart adni az író, és ezért került bele a sokféle mellékszál, de annyira erős lett a fő szál, hogy a többiek csak érdekes színfolt voltak, miközben alig vártam már, hogy visszaugorjunk a főszereplőkhöz.

Népszerű idézetek


Yes, I suppose I can talk to you all right. Only – I never had anyone to talk to – talk to about everything. But talking to you – it's like talking to myself now – and I don't mind it.

Chapter XXVIII


„Don't you see – we're all things. Each person is everything in the world if he could only recognize it and admit it. If each man could only say: 'I'm brave one moment, a coward the next; I'm reserved in parts of me, yet childishly friendly; I'm hot and cold about religion as the fears and the hopes of the day move me. I am all things. Each of us is just me – everything – humanity.”

„Yes, darling. Here comes the man with the drinks.”

Clive shook his head. He had suddenly understood something – yet his words hadn't said it.

Chapter XV


You took an action – one little action – and after that life swept you away. Perhaps it would be good for them all to be swept away – torn from habit and routine. So many people tried to live on the bank of life – and life really was in the stream.

You couldn't be both on the bank and in the stream. Always there came the exact moment when you let go. An infinitely fine and exact point where letting go began and fighting in the stream started.

Chapter XLI


„Prue,” he said. "I've lived for twenty-seven years. And I think it would take me twenty-seven years to tell you why. You see, I'm not a Quaker nor a Communist nor any 'ist' or 'ism' or party or faith that has a clear set of rules for action. I'm me, and – I have to worry everything out for myself without the comfort of phrases. (…)
And what I think and am – that's my own. I haven't even any right to inflict it on anyone else. I don't want party rules given me, and I don't want to give rules for anyone else. I don't want to affect anyone else. I don't want to change you one iota or one bit."

Chapter XXVIII


„Monty! I wonder if he's all right?”

„Monty? Listen – if they bombed this town until there wasn't a brick left whole, and every person but one was killed – well, the next morning they'd come and find Monty was that person – and he'd be sitting on top of the pile of bricks with a roof already constructed and a fireplace improvised and breakfast sizzling in the pan. Don't worry about Monty.”

Chapter XXV


„There's nothing,” she said, „as desolate as a room you've lived in – and then you're packed to go. It looks – like a Christmas tree after all the decorations are taken down, doesn't it?”

Chapter XXX



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Crushing to ego to know that that collection of figures and letters means me – and me alone of all the people in the world. That's what man rebels about in all life – being letters and figures – a symbol.


„That's it,” he said. „All of us so confused. It's – it's an age of confusion – not knowing where to believe, and where to have faith. All searching for something – something to do with human dignity it is – not a cure for the world, but wanting to have some faith in the right of man to seek a cure. Not Christianity – but Christ – something to do with kindness – and pity – and loving poor bloody humanity, not for what it ought to be, but just for what it is.”

Chapter XL

Hasonló könyvek címkék alapján

Ken Follett: Winter of the World
Bernard Cornwell: Harlequin
Bernard Cornwell: Sharpe's Siege
Bernard Cornwell: The Fort
Conn Iggulden: The Field of Swords
Sebastian Faulks: Birdsong
Robert Harris: Fatherland
Rose Tremain: The Gustav Sonata
Mary Renault: The King Must Die
Amy Harmon: From Sand and Ash