Бенджамин Балинт - все книги по циклам и сериям | Книги по порядку

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Удивительная история наследия Франца Кафки – детектив, произошедший на самом деле. Кафка не собирался публиковать свои произведения, а завещал уничтожить их после своей смерти лучшему другу, Максу Броду. К счастью для мировой литературы, Брод разглядел гений тогда еще никому не известного Кафки, и в конечном итоге, посвятил оставшуюся жизнь их публикации. Но по-настоящему захватывающая битва за труды великого писателя началась со смерти Макса Брода – по стечению обстоятельств за них стали бороться два государства, считавших Кафку "своим" писателем, Израиль и Германия.

В своем увлекательном расследовании журналист Бенджамин Балинт распутывает клубок правовых, политических и этических споров, показывая читателю новую сторону великого Франца Кафки и непростую судьбу его сочинений.

'A highly entertaining story of literary friendship, epic legal battles and cultural politics centred on one of the most enigmatic writers of the 20th century' Financial Times
When Franz Kafka died in 1924, his friend Max Brod could not bring himself to fulfil the writer’s last instruction: to burn his remaining manuscripts. Instead, Brod took them with him to Palestine in 1939, and devoted the rest of his life to editing and canonizing Kafka’s work. By betraying his la

When Franz Kafka died in 1924, his loyal friend Max Brod could not bring himself to fulfill Kafka’s last instruction: to burn his remaining manuscripts. Instead, Brod devoted his life to championing Kafka’s work, rescuing his legacy from obscurity and physical destruction.
Nearly a century later, an international legal battle erupted to determine which country could claim ownership: Israel, where Kafka dreamed of living, or Germany, where Kafka’s three sisters perished in the Holocaust? Benjamin Balint offers a gripping account of the controversial trial in Israeli courts— brimming with dilemmas legal, ethical, and political—that determined the fate of Kafka’s manuscripts.

“Thoughtful and provocative.” — Ruth Franklin, Wall Street Journal

“A tale pitting two Goliaths against one octogenarian David, untangled in exacting, riveting detail. . . . A must- read.” — Rebecca Schuman, Slate

“A gifted cultural historian with a scholarly sensibility.” — Lev Mendes, New York Times Book Review

Der ber?hmteste Koffer der Literaturgeschichte h?tte es beinahe nicht geschafft. Max Brod hatte ihn bei sich, als er 1939 mit dem letzten Zug von Prag nach Pal?stina floh. Im Koffer: ­Manuskripte, Notate, Kritzeleien seines Freundes Franz Kafka. Jahrzehnte sp?ter entsponn sich darum ein Gerichtskrimi, der erst 2016 ein Ende fand. Vordergr?ndig wurde ?ber den Nachlass von Max Brod entschieden, doch standen noch ganz andere Fragen im Raum: War Kafka vor allem ein j?discher Autor? Wo ist sein Erbe richtig aufgehoben? In Israel? Oder in jenem Land, in dessen Namen Kafkas Familie einst ausgel?scht wurde? Eine filmreife Geschichte, die nicht nur zeigt, weshalb die Frage, wem Kafka geh?rt, zum Gl?ck nie entschieden werden kann. &t;br/&t; "Eine meisterliche Spurensuche." Cynthia Ozick &t;br/&t; "Dieses gut recherchierte, spannende Buch erhellt das komplexe Verh?ltnis zwischen Literatur, Religion, Kultur und Nationalit?t." Publishers Weekly

A fresh portrait of the Polish-Jewish writer and artist, and a gripping account of the secret operation to rescue his last artworks. The twentieth-century artist Bruno Schulz was born an Austrian, lived as a Pole, and died a Jew. First a citizen of the Habsburg monarchy, he would, without moving, become the subject of the West Ukrainian People’s Republic, the Second Polish Republic, the USSR, and, finally, the Third Reich. Yet to use his own metaphor, Schulz remained throughout a citizen of the Republic of Dreams. He was a master of twentieth-century imaginative fiction who mapped the anxious perplexities of his time; Isaac Bashevis Singer called him “one of the most remarkable writers who ever lived.” Schulz was also a talented illustrator and graphic artist whose masochistic drawings would catch the eye of a sadistic Nazi officer. Schulz’s art became the currency in which he bought life. Drawing on extensive new reporting and archival research, Benjamin Balint chases the inventive murals Schulz painted on the walls of an SS villa―the last traces of his vanished world―into multiple dimensions of the artist’s life and afterlife. Sixty years after Schulz was murdered, those murals were miraculously rediscovered, only to be secretly smuggled by Israeli agents to Jerusalem. The ensuing international furor summoned broader perplexities, not just about who has the right to curate orphaned artworks and to construe their meanings, but about who can claim to stand guard over the legacy of Jews killed in the Nazi slaughter. By re-creating the artist’s milieu at a crossroads not just of Jewish and Polish culture but of art, sex, and violence, Bruno Schulz itself stands as an act of belated restitution, offering a kaleidoscopic portrait of a life with all its paradoxes and curtailed possibilities. 8 pages of color illustrations