City sister silver topol jchym zucker alex. City, Sister, Silver : Jachym Topol : 9780945774433 2019-01-30

City sister silver topol jchym zucker alex Rating: 8,5/10 882 reviews

City Sister Silver

city sister silver topol jchym zucker alex

I couldn't hear her voice, it was like the sounds were forming letters, but it was only the idea of them, just her speech echoing in my brain, now it was the speech of fear, fear of losing power, losing it as the city set against it the power of all the others' fear, the fear of the crowd, it's sour, I heard She-Dog's mind echo. City Sister Silver is the Czech equivalent of Trainspotting, only the historical setting is a little more serious. After losing Černá, Potok wanders along aimlessly until he winds up living among bums in a Prague trash heap, where a monster lurks and tears its victims to shreds. As the little boy got older, he didn't just dance the way she wanted. He also works in editing and communications. I can see this is an amazing book, but I didn't have a clue what was going on most of the time. Other lyrics by also music , Zuzana Justman, and J.

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City, sister, silver (Book, 2000) [getu.com]

city sister silver topol jchym zucker alex

Sinkule was right, the cops pulled out, and an eerie silence settled back over the crowd. Did you guys know Sinkule booked? Alex Zucker's energetic English preserves most of the author's linguistic inventiveness and idiosyncratic verve. The amorous tension is evident from the first sentences, and following how that yearning escalates, emerging and working its way into clarity, is one of the greatest experiences of reading this book. I am not good at doing reviews. Alex Zucker has done a wonderful translation, a job that must have been incredibly difficult.

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CER

city sister silver topol jchym zucker alex

She had rough skin, I touched her belly, scarred from giving birth, but I won't show you you! Novak and the field of bones at Auschwitz are among a few of this book's highlights. Na druhou stranu je však Topol tradicionalistický, opakuje nově a nechává znovu ožívat staré příběhy, městské bajky, legendy a dějinné události. When lions mate, the male grips the nape of the female's neck so tight with his teeth her neck would snap if she moved, that was the way we held on to each other, with every single pore. In reconstituting this atomized world, the author ignores conventional boundaries to summon up all the diverse powers of language. A ripple went through the crowd again, and in a blink the old lady was standing alone.

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Works

city sister silver topol jchym zucker alex

We were moving in bliss, and then She-Dog's brain sent me to an old woman shoveling coal into pails, suddenly I heard the clink of shovel on pail, clear as a bell, and then she sent me on a journey through the old woman. He put a wafer on my tongue, the sign of God, she said, and I still had semen in there with your kids, they might not all've been dead yet, I ran the whole way. I gave up and went back upstairs where we sat around and talked the way we always did after work. It is a tour-de-force that includes terrifying dream scenes, excellent reportage, Czech and American Indian legends, a nightmarish Eastern European flea market, comic scenes about the literary world, and an oddly tender story of the love between the protagonist and his spiritual sister. Let's duck into a building first. And if you are not familiar with recent Czech history you may never get what is going on in the book. Even when finished with the book, it would be hard to summarize the arc of the story.

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Alex Zucker

city sister silver topol jchym zucker alex

No more foreigners now, no more cameras to sully the dictatorship's reputation. And, like Dante at his quest's end, somehow he sees and does not see his Beatrice again. Emerging from their homes to join the silent demonstration, aban-doning the archways where they had stood, as if hidden, for hours now. Often it was damp with groundwater, sometimes old as time itself, time had a heavy fragrance, it slaked our thirst. Just like them, something drove me to bury deceased pigeons and sparrows, making crosses for their little graves and reeling off the words, but She-Dog brought me back to myself, through herself, through her movements and voice and touches, just like a little wife. I thought he was kiddin, musta had him repeat Ich bin der auslander like a hundred times. Awesome book by an important writer -- the youngest to sign the Charter 77 in the Velvet Revolution.

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City Sister Silver by Jáchym Topol Jachym Topol, translated by Alex Zucker Sestra

city sister silver topol jchym zucker alex

In pointillist, elliptical prose, Topol aptly captures the period's social dislocation, and the hallucinatory quality of even everyday experiences. Most of the book seemed like a messy dream sequence or bad trip, and the parts that did make sense were just disturbing. But in the fall of 1944, the transports to Auschwitz begin. And only then did she really begin to glow, becoming Beautiful She-Dog, with breasts. The contract's valid, even if we're not scared anymore. Maybe they sent in a few tanks after all.

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Works

city sister silver topol jchym zucker alex

Or, then again, maybe it was just that I wasn't so young anymore and my cock demanded rougher treatment. Je v jednom ohledu velmi novátorská - styl je svérázný, inovativní, rouhačsky odvážný a magický. First published in 1994, Topol's ambitious, challenging debut, hailed in the Czech Republic as the major novel of the post-communist period, chronicles city life after the Velvet Revolution of 1989. It would've meant death if either of us had pushed the other away, or let go. We don't go throwin our dirty laundry around for everyone to see, an that includes your soiled shorts, you son of a bitch, an your stinky socks, it's time to clean house, whenever the Monster's in the mood.

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Fiction Book Review: City, Sister, Silver by Jachym Topol, Author, Alex Zucker, Translator Catbird Press $40 (512p) ISBN 978

city sister silver topol jchym zucker alex

City Sister Silver is wildly meandering, but in a good way. An I spose that granddaddy there is Mengele? Only these gee-dee-ar porkers aren't goin into any flaming ovens. This was too clever for me. The best part of the show was a string of short scenes, witty skits, got the audience rolling in the aisles usually, I went on acting off to the side slowly croaking here and there we mixed in some porno as our part in the struggle against the regime, having the gardener tickle the elves, for instance a child walking across the stage now and then to make it obvious the emperor was naked I played the rose and tried to get into its time, into its life seeing as I had to kill it in the end Little White She-Dog played a swarm of flies, voracious aphids, we had some pretty good scuffles up on stage, her biting me full of holes, I was the rose, not too manly a role, I admit, and by the time I shed my petals, there wasn't much light left on me. It's interesting that another reviewer way more versed in literature than I am says that the final 200 pages of the 500 page tome are an endurance test, yet still gives it 5 stars. And since She-Dog wasn't there that night, Cepková, a blonde, had to fill in for her, and as she was sawing off my thorns I saw She-Dog's face beneath her makeup, sending me a message, I heard her brain from inside the rose's red darkness and I knew she wanted to free me of fear, but I didn't want to be free of it because without fear I couldn't act without fear I could do anything except create because the only way I can make up human characters and play around with them is if I know the wicked old horror of life and the horror of its ending I chose fear so She-Dog cast me out of the community, cut me off from herself she promised to send me a sister, though to fulfill my future and two green spots like magnets flared in Cepková's face, like a blaze of heat but then the fire died out and the female features beneath the makeup settled back into clown face as called for in the script, and She-Dog was gone my tears flowed onto the rose the people in the front row saw it and thought, Potok the dancer, stoned again but I didn't give a shit after all, even that old sadist Nero needed a sizable cast of extras for his poem about the fire and my colleague pranced around me, acting out scissors and a greedy hand and a cloudburst with falling branches, all things with a negative sign in the life of a rose, and then she brought my drooping time to a stop, playing water and a sunbeam the audience went wild and She-Dog wasn't there so after consulting with the stage manager, I acted out the watering of the rose, inserting a tube in my mouth and coiling it around my body and into a demijohn of red wine, I drank liters of it that night as I thought about my girlfriend, because it was obvious to me if she hadn't come it had to be serious, and then it was dark, Firewater-dark, with shards in my head. At least that's my guess.

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