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- 361 pages
- 13 hours of reading
More about the book
The author initially intended to call this novel, The Lyrical Age . The lyrical age, according to Kundera, is youth, and this novel, above all, is an epic of adolescence; an ironic epic that tenderly erodes sacrosanct values: childhood, motherhood, revolution, and even poetry. Jaromil is in fact a poet. His mother made hima poet and accompanies him (figuratively) to his love bed and (literally) to his deathbed. A ridiculous and touching character, horrifying and totally innocent ("innocence with its bloody smile"!), Jaromil is at the same time a true poet. He's no creep, he's Rimbaud. Rimbaud entrapped by the communist revolution, entrapped in a somber farce.
Book purchase
Het leven is elders, Milan Kundera, Jana Beranová
- Language
- Released
- 2000
- product-detail.submit-box.info.binding
- (Paperback),
- Book condition
- Good
- Price
- €23.99
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- Title
- Het leven is elders
- Language
- Dutch
- Authors
- Milan Kundera, Jana Beranová
- Publisher
- Flamingo
- Released
- 2000
- Format
- Paperback
- Pages
- 361
- ISBN10
- 9041404856
- ISBN13
- 9789041404855
- Series
- Tags
- Fiction, Historical Themes, Czech Literature, Philosophical Topics, Love, Classics, Politics, Life, Marriage, Prague, Czech Republic, Lyric, Dreams, Mothers, Communism, Jealousy, Frauds, Autobiographical Novels, Existentialism, Poets, Novels about Artists, Milan Kundera
- Original title
- Zivot je jinde
- Rating
- 4 out of 5
- Description
- The author initially intended to call this novel, The Lyrical Age . The lyrical age, according to Kundera, is youth, and this novel, above all, is an epic of adolescence; an ironic epic that tenderly erodes sacrosanct values: childhood, motherhood, revolution, and even poetry. Jaromil is in fact a poet. His mother made hima poet and accompanies him (figuratively) to his love bed and (literally) to his deathbed. A ridiculous and touching character, horrifying and totally innocent ("innocence with its bloody smile"!), Jaromil is at the same time a true poet. He's no creep, he's Rimbaud. Rimbaud entrapped by the communist revolution, entrapped in a somber farce.