ISBN: 9798240847684 - beyond the limits of pain: a picture from the abyss (8 resultados)

Condición: New.

Paperback. Condición: new. Paperback. Winter, 1915. Seven men step out of a column of sixty thousand and sit down in the snow.They have no food, no fire, and no road back. Ahead of them the file of prisoners crawls on into the fog like a great trampled worm.A Ukrainian doctor. A Hungarian. A Pole. A young Serb. An Austrian lieutenant who is blind and carries a violin. A man who has forgotten his own name.What happens on that mountain over one day and one night - the ball they invent to keep from freezing, the blind man who feeds his violin to the fire, the lot drawn to decide which of them must die so that the rest may eat, and what is said when the moment comes - Osyp Turiansky did not invent. He was one of the men.Driven across the Albanian mountains with the retreating Serbian army in the winter of 1915, he was one of roughly fifteen thousand prisoners who came out alive. Forty-five thousand did not. He wrote the book, he said, so that he would not lose his mind.Published in Vienna in 1921 and little read in English since, this is unlike anything else the First World War produced. Turiansky called it a picture from the abyss: not a novel but a novella-poem, in which narration breaks into verse, sentences shorten to the length of a breath, and rows of dots stand where language gives out. It is testimony written as art - and at the very edge of what human beings can do to one another, it refuses to become either a horror story or a sermon.At the centre of it a blind man who has lost everything says four words that the rest of the book is built to earn: There is a sun in life.This annotated edition restores the 1921 first edition entire - the subtitle later printings dropped, the dedication, the author's portrait, the four plates, and Robert Plen's contemporary essay - with an introduction, a glossary, and notes throughout on the history, the songs and rituals, and the choices behind every difficult line.Translated and annotated by Serhii Sakal. Winter, 1915. Seven prisoners of war sit down in the Albanian snow with no food, no fire and no road back. Osyp Turiansky was one of them, and one of the few who came back. An annotated edition of the 1921 novella-poem. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from multiple locations in the US or from the UK, depending on stock availability.…

PAP. Condición: New. New Book. Shipped from UK. THIS BOOK IS PRINTED ON DEMAND. Established seller since 2000.

PAP. Condición: New. New Book. Delivered from our UK warehouse in 4 to 14 business days. THIS BOOK IS PRINTED ON DEMAND. Established seller since 2000.

Paperback. Condición: new. Paperback. Winter, 1915. Seven men step out of a column of sixty thousand and sit down in the snow.They have no food, no fire, and no road back. Ahead of them the file of prisoners crawls on into the fog like a great trampled worm.A Ukrainian doctor. A Hungarian. A Pole. A young Serb. An Austrian lieutenant who is blind and carries a violin. A man who has forgotten his own name.What happens on that mountain over one day and one night - the ball they invent to keep from freezing, the blind man who feeds his violin to the fire, the lot drawn to decide which of them must die so that the rest may eat, and what is said when the moment comes - Osyp Turiansky did not invent. He was one of the men.Driven across the Albanian mountains with the retreating Serbian army in the winter of 1915, he was one of roughly fifteen thousand prisoners who came out alive. Forty-five thousand did not. He wrote the book, he said, so that he would not lose his mind.Published in Vienna in 1921 and little read in English since, this is unlike anything else the First World War produced. Turiansky called it a picture from the abyss: not a novel but a novella-poem, in which narration breaks into verse, sentences shorten to the length of a breath, and rows of dots stand where language gives out. It is testimony written as art - and at the very edge of what human beings can do to one another, it refuses to become either a horror story or a sermon.At the centre of it a blind man who has lost everything says four words that the rest of the book is built to earn: There is a sun in life.This annotated edition restores the 1921 first edition entire - the subtitle later printings dropped, the dedication, the author's portrait, the four plates, and Robert Plen's contemporary essay - with an introduction, a glossary, and notes throughout on the history, the songs and rituals, and the choices behind every difficult line.Translated and annotated by Serhii Sakal. Winter, 1915. Seven prisoners of war sit down in the Albanian snow with no food, no fire and no road back. Osyp Turiansky was one of them, and one of the few who came back. An annotated edition of the 1921 novella-poem. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from our Sydney, NSW warehouse or from our UK or US warehouse, depending on stock availability.…

Taschenbuch. Condición: Neu. nach der Bestellung gedruckt Neuware - Printed after ordering - Winter, 1915. Seven men step out of a column of sixty thousand and sit down in the snow.They have no food, no fire, and no road back. Ahead of them the file of prisoners crawls on into the fog like a great trampled worm.A Ukrainian doctor. A Hungarian. A Pole. A young Serb. An Austrian lieutenant who is blind and carries a violin. A man who has forgotten his own name.What happens on that mountain over one day and one night - the ball they invent to keep from freezing, the blind man who feeds his violin to the fire, the lot drawn to decide which of them must die so that the rest may eat, and what is said when the moment comes - Osyp Turiansky did not invent. He was one of the men.Driven across the Albanian mountains with the retreating Serbian army in the winter of 1915, he was one of roughly fifteen thousand prisoners who came out alive. Forty-five thousand did not. He wrote the book, he said, so that he would not lose his mind.Published in Vienna in 1921 and little read in English since, this is unlike anything else the First World War produced. Turiansky called it a picture from the abyss: not a novel but a novella-poem, in which narration breaks into verse, sentences shorten to the length of a breath, and rows of dots stand where language gives out. It is testimony written as art - and at the very edge of what human beings can do to one another, it refuses to become either a horror story or a sermon.At the centre of it a blind man who has lost everything says four words that the rest of the book is built to earn: There is a sun in life.This annotated edition restores the 1921 first edition entire - the subtitle later printings dropped, the dedication, the author's portrait, the four plates, and Robert Plen's contemporary essay - with an introduction, a glossary, and notes throughout on the history, the songs and rituals, and the choices behind every difficult line.Translated and annotated by Serhii Sakal.…

Taschenbuch. Condición: Neu. Beyond the Limits of Pain | A Picture from the Abyss | Osyp Turiansky | Taschenbuch | Englisch | 2026 | Serhii Sakal | EAN 9798240847684 | Verantwortliche Person für die EU: Libri GmbH, Europaallee 1, 36244 Bad Hersfeld, gpsr[at]libri[dot]de | Anbieter: preigu Print on Demand.…

Paperback. Condición: new. Paperback. Winter, 1915. Seven men step out of a column of sixty thousand and sit down in the snow.They have no food, no fire, and no road back. Ahead of them the file of prisoners crawls on into the fog like a great trampled worm.A Ukrainian doctor. A Hungarian. A Pole. A young Serb. An Austrian lieutenant who is blind and carries a violin. A man who has forgotten his own name.What happens on that mountain over one day and one night - the ball they invent to keep from freezing, the blind man who feeds his violin to the fire, the lot drawn to decide which of them must die so that the rest may eat, and what is said when the moment comes - Osyp Turiansky did not invent. He was one of the men.Driven across the Albanian mountains with the retreating Serbian army in the winter of 1915, he was one of roughly fifteen thousand prisoners who came out alive. Forty-five thousand did not. He wrote the book, he said, so that he would not lose his mind.Published in Vienna in 1921 and little read in English since, this is unlike anything else the First World War produced. Turiansky called it a picture from the abyss: not a novel but a novella-poem, in which narration breaks into verse, sentences shorten to the length of a breath, and rows of dots stand where language gives out. It is testimony written as art - and at the very edge of what human beings can do to one another, it refuses to become either a horror story or a sermon.At the centre of it a blind man who has lost everything says four words that the rest of the book is built to earn: There is a sun in life.This annotated edition restores the 1921 first edition entire - the subtitle later printings dropped, the dedication, the author's portrait, the four plates, and Robert Plen's contemporary essay - with an introduction, a glossary, and notes throughout on the history, the songs and rituals, and the choices behind every difficult line.Translated and annotated by Serhii Sakal. Winter, 1915. Seven prisoners of war sit down in the Albanian snow with no food, no fire and no road back. Osyp Turiansky was one of them, and one of the few who came back. An annotated edition of the 1921 novella-poem. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from our UK warehouse or from our Australian or US warehouses, depending on stock availability.…