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In 1913 a young second lieutenant discovers the terrible dangers of pity. He had no idea the girl was lame when he asked her to dance - his compensatory afternoon calls relieve his guilt but give her a dangerous glimmer of hope. Stefan Zweig's only novel is a devastatingly unindulgent realization of the torment of the betrayal of both honor and love, realized against the bIn 1913 a young second lieutenant discovers the terrible dangers of pity. He had no idea the girl was lame when he asked her to dance - his compensatory afternoon calls relieve his guilt but give her a dangerous glimmer of hope. Stefan Zweig's only novel is a devastatingly unindulgent realization of the torment of the betrayal of both honor and love, realized against the background of the disintegration of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.?Stefan Zweig was born in 1881 into a wealthy Viennese Jewish family. He studied at the Universities of Berlin and Vienna and was first known as a poet and translator, then as a biographer. Zweig traveled widely, living in Salzburg, London and New York before settling in Brazil where he and his wife were found dead in 1942.??Also available by Stefan Zweig?The Invisible Collection/Buchmendel ?TP $14.00, 1-901285-00-6 • CUSA??Casanova - A Study in Self-Portraiture ?TP $14.00, 1-901285-18-9 • CUSA?...

Title : Beware of Pity
Author :
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ISBN : 9780452255128
Format Type : Paperback
Number of Pages : 353 Pages
Status : Available For Download
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Beware of Pity Reviews

  • BillKerwin
    2018-11-25 01:28

    Did you enjoy Wes Anderson's film The Grand Hotel Budapest? Did you become entranced—as I did—by its nostalgia for the Austro-Hungarian Empire in those moonlight days before the Great War? Beware of Pity (1939), the novel which inspired the film, was written by Stefan Zweig--in exile, in London—during the time when the Nazis occupied his beloved Vienna, when Germany subsumed Austria into itself, and Austria--alas!--was no more. How ironic: at the very moment Zweig was mourning the cultural demise of the cosmopolitan empire of twenty-five years ago, Hitler was accomplishing the political death of the country on which it had been built, the present day republic that was his home.Zweig was indeed a man of ironies. He was a name-dropper, a frequenter of fashionable cafes who fiercely guarded his privacy; he was a celebrated writer of popular fiction who yearned for artistic recognition; he was a husband who treated his wife as a secretary, then divorced her to marry his secretary; he was a Jew who considered his Judaism “an accident of birth,” a Jew who never thought of himself as a Jew until Hitler classified him as such, who even then declined to denounce the Third Reich with vigor, preferring to remain “objective”; and he was a cosmopolite comfortable in all cities of the world until the Nazis barred him from the comforts of his own city Vienna: he despaired, and, together with his second wife, killed himself with barbituates, in Petropolis, the "Imperial City" of Brazil, in 1942. The title of this novel—and its overriding theme—Beware of Pity--has its ironies too. How can pity—the exercise of simple human compassion—be considered a corrosive force?And why would a man like Zweig, wounded by a pitiless tyrant, choose the dangers of pity for his theme?The novel tells the story of a young Austrian lieutenant, Anton Hoffmiller, who, invited to the home of the great landowner Kekesfalva, performs the gentlemanly gesture of asking his host's daughter to dance. When she bursts into tears, he realizes that the young lady's legs are paralyzed. Humiliated, he immediately flees from the house, but sends her a dozen roses the next day. So begins a series of visits—motivated primarily by pity—which lead to disaster, not only for Lieutenant Hoffmiller, but for the Kekesfalva family too.Zweig's reputation rests primarily on his novellas--”Letter from an Unknown Woman” and “The Royal Game” are masterpieces of the form—and some critics have faulted this, his only novel, as a novella padded to novel length by the addition of a few irrelevant stories. I disagree. Each of these subordinate narratives—about the landowner's fortune, the physician's marriage, the courtship of the officer turned waiter--presents a glimpse into the dynamics of male/female relationships, and how—for good or for ill—such relationships may be altered by pity. The novel would be poorer without these stories: like mirrors, they flash moonlight upon the surface of events, illuminating poor Hoffmiller's dilemma.The tale is compelling, and there were even a few moments (two moments, to be precise) that had me gasping (small gasps, but real gasps), my hand raised to my mouth. The general course of the narrative may be tragically predictable, but there are plenty of little surprises--and pleasures--to be encountered along the way.And of course, there is the moonlight which suffuses all: that seductive, antique Austrian atmosphere, which pities little and yet forgives everything.

  • MohammedAli
    2018-11-29 02:26

    بعد مرور أكثر من شهر :ما الشيء الذّي يجعلني أشعر برجفة خفيفة كلّما رأيت أو لاح لي إسم هذه الرواية ؟ أو لماذا هذا الشعور ؟ أو لنكن أكثر دقّة، لماذا هذا الشعور بالذّات ؟لازالت هناك صورة عالقة بذهني .. صورة رجل يجري في زقاق مظلم، ويتصبّب العرق منه، قد يظنّ البعض أنّ هذا العرق ناتج عن المجهود البدني المتمثل في الجري، ولكن الأمر غير صحيح، أو لنقل أنّه صحيح من زاوية ما .. فالعرق هنا نتاج مجهود ذهني خارق مضاف إليه المجهود البدني .. رجل يجري و يفكر ويعصر ذهنه عصرا .. إنّها الحرب .. إنّه الموت .. الموت .. الموت .. إنّه الحب .هذه الصورة بعيدة كل البعد عن أحداث الرواية، لكن أنا من أخترتها لتكون نهاية لأحداث الرواية . ومن قرأ الرواية سيعرف أنّ النهاية ستحطمك .. لهذا قد تكون صورة هذا الرجل هي تمهيد لأحداث ما بعد النهاية، أو صورة للقارئ المجهد المصدوم . أثناء القراءة :توقفت .. وتأمّلت العنوان قليلا .. " حذار من الشفقة " .. إنّه يحذرنا من الشفقة ؟ كيف ؟ وهل الشفقة خلق ذميم حتى نحذّر منها ؟ ومتى كانت الشفقة مصدرا للتحذير ؟ طبعا لحد الآن و أنا أقرأ سطور هذه الرواية - الأحداث لازالت ميتة إن صحّ هذا التعبير - لا يوجد أو لم أجد أو لأنّني أحب الدقة لم أكتشف سرّ هذا العنوان .. العنوان الجذّاب جدا .. وخاصة لمن يحبّ التأمل في العناوين .بعد مرور عدة أيام عن قراءة الرواية :هذا عمل عبقري !!! نعم .. نعم .. هذا رأيي والذي احترمه طبعا .. هههه .. و أنا لا أريد أن أحاجج من لم يعجبه العمل .. فأنا لست ستفان زفايج !! .. وأنا لا أريد أن أضع أسبابا معينة لتصنيفه ضمن قائمة الأعمال العبقرية، ولكن فكرة الصراع بين قيمتين أخلاقيتين محمودتين الحبّ/ الشفقة عبقرية بكل ما تحمل هذه الكلمة من معنى .مباشرة بعد الإنتهاء من القراءة :لماذا هذه النهاية ؟ طبعا هناك شعور بالإضطراب يعرفه جميع القراء بدون إستثناء، لا ادري إن كانت " اضطراب " هي الكلمة التوصيفية المناسبة .. ولكن سأعوّل على ذكاء القارئ في فهمها، أو في إسترجاع ذلك الإحساس . ذلك الإحساس الذي يتولّد عند الإنتهاء من قراءة عمل عبقري .. وطبعا كل منّا صادف عملا روائيا اعتبره عبقريا بكل ما تحمل الكلمة من معنى .. و بالتّالي خبر هذا الشعور .. الشعور المزيج بين أمنية لماذا لم يكتب الكاتب صفحات أخرى و مرجع هذا الشعور الرّغبة في عدم إنهاء هذا العمل وبين الإحساس الناتج الذي ولّده الفضول لمعرفة النهاية والإلحاح الشّديد المستمر الذي صاحبنا أثناء القراءة لمعرفة نهاية هذه الملحمة .قبل بداية قراءة هذه الرواية :اتمنى أن يكون هذا الإختيار جميلا، وألاّ أضيع وقتي لأنّ القائمة طويلة جدا و أنّ الوقت قصير جدا .الآن :أنا مشوش قليلا لهذا جاءت المراجعة مشوشة كثيرا، هناك الكثير من الأشياء في ذهني ولكن ما إن أريد إخراجها حتى تتبعثر و تصطدم بالواقع .. فتتناثر الإحساسات وتغيب التعبيرات المناسبة .

  • StevenGodin
    2018-11-21 01:38

    Beware of Pity, Zweig's one and only novel, was a book that had eluded me for quite some time, but learning of a new translation by Oxford Academic Dr Jonathan Katz (who has worked on writings by Goethe and Joseph Roth), I followed through and got hold of a copy whilst on a trip back to my home City of Bath, and as things would have it, I also learned Zweig actually stayed in Bath for a time after fleeing mainland Europe during the war. Reading 'Impatience of the Heart' was well worth the wait, I would put it up there with one of the best novels I have ever read, It captivated me from first page to the last, with moments that had me wanting to look the other way, through it's depiction of pity.This is a story of painful and almost unbearable disillusionment swept along with a saddening nostalgia, composed by Zweig over a period of years and completed by 1938, in which a young Austrian cavalry officer, Hofmiller, befriends a local millionaire, Kekesfalva, and his family, but in particular the old man's crippled daughter, Edith (a character I will simply never forget) and the terrible consequences that follow a moment of sheer horror for the officer at a dance, thus a chain of events are triggered that Hofmiller due to his weak minded pity can not escape from. I don't want to link Zweig with Hitchcock, but there were moments of utter tension that had me peeping through my fingers in trepidation at what might or might not happen. There is also an interior psychological precision that shows just how sharply Zweig could pay attention to his characters inner workings, and this he pulls off as good as anything else I have come across, here is a man 'Hofmiller the hero', on whom everything is lost, in more than one sense of the phrase. When first introduced to a decorated Hofmiller many years later in a cafe he spills his history to a novelist (the framing narrator) whom we may as well assume to be Zweig himself, he treats his decoration, the greatest military order Austria can bestow, with disdain bordering on contempt, and only speaks to the narrator when they meet accidentally at a dinner party later on. After this point, we should realise that the message of the book is not only the ostensible one, that pity is an emotion that can cause great ruin, but also that we must not judge things by appearances. Hofmiller, in his case, what others might regard as courage is actually the result of a monumental act of cowardice which will burden his soul for eternity.Others have viewed this work as actually two novellas of unequal length stitched together, there is an entire back story as to how Kekesfalva obtained his wealth, but this only adds depth, it doesn't read as though it could benefit from any trimming, and something I did notice was the fact this contained no chapters, or breaks in writing, keeping a continually flowing narrative. From front to back it's a novel, pure and simple. It's length for some may be an issue. Me, I would have gladly read another 200 pages of this, and this coming from someone who is normally put off reading huge novels. Kekesfalva, along with daughters Ilona and Edith played such a despairing role in the narrative, I spend the whole time just praying their outcome would be a good one, I felt everything they were going through, down to the finest details. Crippled Edith, I can't think of any other literary character that has had such an impact on me, my own pity for her was tenfold. Albeit in a complex and ambiguous fashion, when Hofmiller discovers, to his horror, that Edith has sexual desires for him, his existence spirals into chaos, in fact, if it didn't sound so off-putting, "Disillusionment" could be a perfectly plausible title for the novel (to go with Zweig's other one-word titles for some of his novellas: "Amok", "Confusion" or "Angst"). Beware of Pity has passages of high melodrama that had an immense power to make me put a hand over my gasping mouth, something that I can't think I have ever done before whilst reading a novel. A masterpiece.

  • David
    2018-12-13 01:32

    Disclaimer: Despite whatever I say in the following review, and no matter how much I mock Beware of Pity, I did actually enjoy it. To a limited extent.Stefan Zweig is an enormous drama queen. Every emotion in his novel Beware of Pity is hyperbolic, neon-lit, hammy. His narrator doesn't feel anything as prosaic as mere mere joy. No way. He's more apt to be 'blithe as a twittering bird.' People aren't only surprised; their faces turn white as a specter, their legs threaten to give way, and their whole being roils with inner turbulence. And these reactions aren't even for big surprises—like, I don't know, World War I—but rather for banal things like the mail being late and the improper buttoning of one's dinner jacket. (I'm slightly exaggerating. But only very slightly.)This book was written in the 1930s. If you didn't know that, however, you'd be just as likely to think it was written in the 1830s. Stylistically speaking, Zweig completely missed the memo on literary modernism. It's as if it never happened. He embraces the hopelessly stodgy language [at this in translated form] and hyperdescription of the (worst of the) 19th century. There is no emotion or thought or physical appearance which manifests an emotion or thought that he will not describe into the fucking ground. He bombards you with loooong paragraphs seeking to explain the most obvious and commonplace emotional responses to you (again, in hyperbolic form) as if you are a cyborg who is newly assimilating human experience. In other words, Zweig thinks you're a moron. He doesn't trust you to know what embarrassment, hand-holding, intoxication, guilt, or hearing strange noises feels like. But he'll try his damndest to explain 'em all to ya, ya inexperienced rube. Have you been living in your bubble boy bubble all these years? Zweig's got your ass covered. If you trimmed all the fat, this novel probably would have been one hundred pages instead of 350. And that's a conservative estimate of the editorial purges required. But the story at the center of all this prissy, rococo language is... yes, interesting. The narrator recounts (at length) how as a twenty-five-year-old lieutenant in the Austro-Hungarian Imperial Army, he met this young crippled woman and accidentally asked her to dance at a party. Oops! (Can you imagine the descriptions of his profound embarrassment? He actually FLEES the party. Total elbows and ass goin' on here.) This minor incident sets off a chain of melodramatic events in which his pity for the absurd little cripple ruins him. His pity takes over his whole life. He actually makes a career of it. He just spends all his time kissing the ass of this incredibly bitchy crippled girl. (view spoiler)[(There is an unintentionally hilarious scene near the end when the cripple's love for the narrator seems to heal her! She's able to walk two steps! Miracle! But then she falls like a ton of bricks at his feet. Not bothering to help her, he flees again. The narrator is actually an accomplished flee-er. He does it three times during the novel.) (hide spoiler)]The melodrama is—I can't lie—occasionally nauseating. You just want to smack the living shit out of the narrator, the cripple, and everyone else because they're all so emotionally volatile all the time. They're either sweating and shaking or glowing with joy like a nuclear holocaust or trying to kill themselves. (Interesting side note: Zweig and his wife killed themselves together while living in South America just a few years after this novel was published.)The single most galling thing about this whole novel—and there are quite a few things to be galled about—is that four pages before the end, the narrator has the audacity to say: 'Melodramatic phrases revolt me.' Hahahahahahahahahaha! <--That's the laughter which accompanies madness, by the way.

  • Adam Dalva
    2018-11-30 00:33

    Zweig is a master of the novella, and his mastery shows in BEWARE OF PITY, which unfortunately is a novel. Were this 130 pages long, it would have been salvageable (not CHESS STORY level, but what is?), but the excitement of the Zweigian opening (an author, a stranger, a story within-a-story) began to diminish when it became clear that this wasn't a novel with multiple parts. Here is the spoiler-free plot, in full: a poor cavalry officer sees a beautiful woman in town, finagles an invitation to a dinner party she'll be attending at the richest mansion in the area, asks the daughter of the house to dance, is confused when she screams in horror, finds out she is paralyzed, keeps going back to the house because he feels bad for her while conveniently ignoring about 3 salient plot-points for which Zwieg maddeningly delays the reveal; is begged on all sides to continue to be nice to her while he is trapped in an escalating series of lies; completely ignores his initial infatuation with the beautiful woman, the girl's cousin (written off in a parenthetical about this long); keeps sneaking out in shame only to be convinced to return by various people about town; hears versions of the expression "beware of pity" approx. 100 times. It's a bit like a filler Curb Your Enthusiasm episode, now that I see it written out.The central question is: do the disabled deserve love? This reminds me a bit of The Captive in Proust, which is another melodrama that revolves around an author's misconception of the world, but here the misconception is, yes, offensive, and Zweig isn't a good enough writer to find his way out of it. This is decidedly NOT a love story. Every time the protagonist cringes in horror at the sound of tapping crutches or the sight of the girl being wheeled around, we cringe too, for Zweig. I have seen this character defended as an aspect of the time in other reviews, but we turn to writers to be ahead of their time in one thing and one thing only: psychological insight. The best parts of B.O.P. are the stories within it - the origin of the girl's father; a traveling sequence that is great until a gypsy prophecy sets in; that stunning opening. It has a preoccupation with suicide that is, of course, upsetting in retrospect. And I never put it down, because as with all Zweig, the world is pleasing to be in. But the false promise of the opening is never answered (this is a novel about a war hero that will never show us war), and it's all something of a trudge. 2.51, and I only rounded up for an excellent 5 page essay in the last third about what it's like when someone has a crush on you. Tempted to knock it down for the stranger on the subway who praised the "gripping action" and "brilliant characters" for 5 straight stops when he saw what I was reading even though my headphones were in, but I suppose we'll leave him out of it.

  • Dolors
    2018-11-30 23:52

    Pity. It had never dawned upon me what a double-edged feeling pity is. Neither had I dwelled for long on the ramifying consequences of actions triggered by that feeling. Compassion, generosity and benignity are considered virtues promoted by years of religious heritage and have therefore been imprinted on mankind’s consciousness from the beginning of times, but the mental processes and the tapestry of neuronal connections that generate good deeds are as inscrutable as the mosaic of celestial bodies that spray-paint the canvas of galaxies, which in turn might be invisible to fallible human eyesight but as real as the sunbeams that warm both the blind and clairvoyant countenances staring back at them. “Only those with whom life had dealt hardly, the wretched, the slighted, the uncertain, the unlovely, the humiliated, could really be helped by love.” (348)Zweig provokes the reader and makes him ponder.Doesn’t pity entail a touch of vain condescension disguised as unselfishness?Isn’t there some addictive self-indulgence irretrievably intertwined with the instinctive wish to please others in order to prove our worthiness to ourselves?Human minds work in bewildering ways and Zweig combines the sharp scalpel of his precise words with the sumptuousness of his transfixing prose to probe strenuously into the nooks and crannies of the psyche of his Freudian protagonists, unfolding the serpentine passages that give shape to the sentiment of pity.Like the dexterous magician who masters his tricks, Zweig uses the first person narrative impersonating an impressionable Lieutenant during the convoluted months previous to World War I to unravel a chain of intricate relationships that will invite the reader to contemplate the fragile boundary that separates charitableness from weakness of character.Lieutenant Anton Hofmiller finds himself entangled in a compromising situation after asking Edith Kekesfalva, the daughter of a distinguished nobleman and sole heir of his vast property, for a dance without realizing the girl is paralyzed from waist down. Plagued by guilt and moved by a disciplined sense of honor typical of the military, Anton obliges himself to visit the girl evening after evening and basking in his own righteousness to play good Samaritan he obviates the blossoming truth of a capricious and over pampered woman falling in unhinged love for the first time.Doctor Condor is known for treating all the “incurable” cases in Vienna with almost obstinate perseverance. After meeting pliant Hofmiller at the Kekesfalva’s, he discloses the decisive role that a combination of self-reproach and decency had on the widowed Mr. Kekesfalva into marrying Edith’s mother and the ensuing consequences of such an unpredictable union as an example of the power of goodwill to the gullible lieutenant.Mr. Kekesfalva’s veneration of Dr. Condor, whose godlike skills are expected to perform a scientific miracle to save Edith from her underserved impairment, is boundless. Inspired by the honorable conduct of the doctor when he married one of his blind patients after failing to fulfill his promise to heal her, Mr. Kekesfalva embraces the young officer his daughter dotes on, hoping for another unlikely miracle to happen.Credulous Hofmiller absorbs the conflicting emotions arising in him, allowing to be whirled around by the currents of gratification that flow from self-pity and remorse. Trying to edge his way around these feelings, he can’t avoid being caught up in a definite, concerted and yet seemingly aimless conspiracy run by fate. But history has a humbling lesson to teach him when collective atrocity strikes with WWI and petty individual turmoil is implacably buried under the weight of mass killing and cosmic destruction, making Hofmiller aware of his own insignificance and erasing all notions of grandiosity and masked integrity. How much can be inferred from Hofmiller’s lack of resolution to face his failures in relation to Zweig’s despairing surrender over the overpowering sadness that took hold of him after being banished from his home, robbed of his golden memories and even estranged from his own identity? Behind the gloss of Zweig’s flawless writing, there is the deafening roaring of a mourning waterfall that soaks the reader and yet somehow leaves him dry as a bone. A dense silence of parching deluge preys upon the reader with torrential questions and a drought of answers.Pity or vanity? Need for validation or hedonistic egocentrism? Honest sympathy or hollow pretence? You can enter the revolving door of Zweig’s mind and run the risk of finding your own answer, but you’d better be ready to face the turned mirror of conscience and swallow the bitter fear of being found out. It's all so very simple in the end, you only need to brace yourself, take a deep breath and Beware of Pity.

  • حسام عادل
    2018-11-19 00:40

    للخير أوجه كثيرة؛ يمكنك أن تساعد النسوة العجائز,تزور اليتامى,تعود المرضى,تلهو مع الأطفال..هناك أوجه عديدة للخير حقًا,لكن حين يبدأ فِعل الخير بارتكاب شفقة بسيطة تنقلب لحماقة,ولا تلبث أن تبدأ سلسلة من الكوارث تنتهي بنهاية مفجعة..حين يحدث كل هذا إثر شرارة بسيطة صادقة النية,فحينها ستصدق نبوءة ستيفان زيفايج إذ يقول: حذار من الشفقة..في رواية متوسطة الطول,عميقة الأثر والمغزى والرسالة,يغوص الكاتب النمساوي العظيم,الذي أتعرف عليه لأول مرة,في أعمق أعماق النفس البشرية,مُقدِّمًا تحفة فنية خالدة,بليغة المدلول,آسرة اللغة والسرد,عن كيف يتحول فعل الخير الذي يدفعه شعور بالشفقة الخالصة,إلى كارثة حقيقية تهدم حياة أسرة هانئة,وتدمر عالم من ارتكب هذا الخير,الذى كان من السذاجة ألا يرى ما ستنضوي عليه فعلته من حسرة وندم..وصلتني رسالة زيفايج كاملة وكدت فى البداية أن أغفلها؛ فالفكرة ليست فى دفع الناس عن ارتكاب الحسنات أو التعاطف مع البشر أو القيام بالخير للآخرين,الفكرة ليست فى التحذير من الحنان والرقة وطيبة القلب والشفقة,لكنها فى الحذر الشديد أثناء القيام بهذا الخير؛ فأبسط خطوة غير مدروسة قد تتردي بك لمهالك عديدة,وتطرح صاحبها في هاوية الجحيم,تلك الهاوية التي قالوا عنها أن الطريق إليها دومًا,وكم كانوا صادقين,مفروشٌ بالنوايا الحسنة!..برغم رتابة بعض المواطن فى الرواية,والاسهاب في الوصف أو السرد أو الحديث عن مكنون ودواخل الشخصيات,فإن الرواية إجمالًا جاءت قطعة فنية عذبة,شجية الأحداث على بساطتها..أما اللغة فكانت أكثر من رائعة؛ كنت أعيد قراءة بعض الجمل مرة تلو الأخرى,كي تتثبت فى ذهني بعض مفردات اللغة التي أبدع حلمي مراد,كأبرع ما يكون,في الكتابة بها,مُقدِّمًا رواية دسمة وراقية في آن,تشعر وأنت تقرأها أنها رواية له,من صميم قلمه,وليست نقلاً عن كاتب آخر..النهاية وحدها,على مأساويتها القاتمة,تستحق نجمة خالصة؛ شخصية مركبة ومعقدة كبطلة العمل لم يكن يخلق بها إلا نهاية كتلك,برغم كامل تألمي لها وأنا أشهدها بعيني على السطور..أما البطل فتعاطفت معه أشد التعاطف,على غبائه ونواياه الحسنة,وطيبته وضعفه البشري الذي أجاد الكاتب وصفه.حتى وإن أثارت ضيقى وحنقي حماقاته المتلاحقة باسم الخير والواجب ونبل الفرسان..لن تستطيع إلا أن تُشفق عليه في النهاية,مُستحضرًا في ذهنك من الشخصيات الواقعية الحقيقية التي مرت بحياتك ما كانت تشبه بطلنا كثيرًا,أو كانت أقرب ما تكون في تصرفاتها منك أنت شخصيًا..أو أنا للأسف!.إنتهاءً ولمحبي الكلاسيكيات,وأصحاب النفس الطويل دون ملل,أرشح لهم تلك الرواية بقوة,واثقًا أن فكرتها وأحداثها ستروق لهم وتترك نفس الأثر الذى خلته في أعماقي..وربما حين تنتهي سيهز قارئها رأسه في أسف متمتمًا: فعلًا,حذار من الشفقة..الغبية.حسام عادل11.08.2015

  • Rinda Elwakil
    2018-12-17 01:52

    و هتفضل رواية "حذار من الشفقة" لستيفن زفايج للأبد مرتبطة في ذهني بسبتمبر، رقيقة خفيفة الظل مليئة بالشجن و المفاجئات مثله. فاكره قصة كنا بندرسها في ال short stories في ثانوي اسمها "I never forget a face"لو هعمل قايمة اسمها "I never forget a book" فيها عشر كتب هتكون من ضمنهم، لو خمس كتب هتكون من ضمنهم، لو تلاتة هتكون من ضمنهم.الرواية قصيرة، 200 و شويه صفحة من القطع الصغير، يعني 100 صفحة لو الكتاب مطبوع علي ورق كبير..متقدمة في سلسلة كتابي من المؤسسة العربية الحديثة ترجمة حلمي مراد بتلاتة جنيه او أربعة تقريبًا.pdf:http://www.book-juice.com/download/8042أجمل ما قرأت في 2015و من أجمل ما قرأت في حياتي. اقروها يا جماعة..و لا تغفلوا النصيحة :حذار من الشفقة :)

  • Perry
    2018-12-16 23:47

    BEWARE OF PITY (Ungeduld des Herzens, orig. title in German)[revised 10/21/17]Pick up a bee from kindness, and learn the limitations of kindness.Sufi ProverbUpon finishing this, Stefan Zweig's only completed novel, after reading his memoir, The World of Yesterday, I've found that the Austrian Zweig was one of those singularly gifted observers of the human condition, that come along maybe only once a generation, able to regularly discern the profound in the mundane as if such a talent came like riding a bicycle.Beware of Pity sated my love for an exploration of human emotions I've not yet encountered in a story but have experienced in the real world. First was pity, and the negative that can flow therefrom. Second is the feeling of having someone in love with you at a time in youth when you want nothing to do with her/him. Though I'd of course encountered the emotion of pity in other novels, none had made it a central theme and covered it like this novel did. As for the second--see Zweig's brilliant quote below--I look back with deep regret at how mean and callous I was to the girl, and think how I'd have handled it differently. I'd not seen this fleshed out in a story from the viewpoint of the *unloving beloved* before this one.The surface moral of this novel is laid out by its title: pity, as an emotion, can result in disaster. The deeper message seems the old maxim, you cannot judge a book by its cover. Hofmiller may wear the medal of the Military Order of Maria Theresa--the highest military decoration Austria could offer, equivalent to the Victoria Cross in Great Britain and the U.S.'s Medal of Honor--but he is plagued by his knowledge that his badge of "courage" actually came from a colossal act of cowardice.The Austrian writer Stefan Zweig's popularity seems to be making a bit of a comeback, with the new publication of a number of his novellas and his memoir The World of Yesterday in which his writing shines. According to a number of sources, when this novel was published in 1939, Zweig was likely the most popular author in the world, for his short stories, novellas and biographies of famous people. "Beware of Pity" is the only novel he completed. He wrote it in the United States (where he arrived in 1935) and then England (1938), as a Jewish refugee from Nazi persecution. He and his wife moved to Brazil in 1942 and shortly thereafter committed suicide together.The story is set in Austria, mostly as it was on the brink of World War I. The tale is told though through a framing narrator (presumably Zweig) who meets the famously decorated cavalry lieutenant Anton Hofmiller at a social function. The narrator asks about the lieutenant's decoration as a hero of WW I, the Military Order of Maria Theresa, which Hofmiller disdains. To explain why, he must take the narrator (and readers) back to the time he was invited to the castle of an immensely wealthy Hungarian named Lajos Kekesfalva. There, he asked the old man's crippled daughter to dance. A spoiled girl in her late teens, she throws a fit. Feeling pity for the girl, Hofmiller makes trips to see the Kekesfalvas nearly every day for an extended period. He is a man who gets nearly everything wrong: his gaffe that ultimately leads to awful consequences, believing Kekesfalva was a nobleman, and thinking the girl's doctor was incompetent, and leading the girl to believe she and he were engaged to be married only to deny it later in the evening, fearful of what his peers may think of him.The "Torment" of Being "Loved Against Your Will"a worse torment, perhaps, than feeling love and desire...is to be loved against your will, when you cannot defend yourself against the passion thrust upon you. It is worse to see someone beside herself, burning with the flames of desire, and stand by powerless, unable to find the strength to snatch her from the fire. If you are unhappily in love yourself, you may sometimes be able to tame your passion because you are the author of your own unhappiness, not just its creature. If a lover can't control his passion then at least his suffering is his own fault. But there is nothing someone who is loved and does not love in return can do about it since it is beyond his own power to determine the extent and limits of that love and no willpower of his own can keep someone else from loving him." Beware of Pity, Stefan Zweig

  • Tony
    2018-11-20 05:23

    My friend and I both pity the homeless, but I prefer to do it from a distance. My friend isn't like that. He likes to put money in cup. Through the years, his insistence on an actual physical exchange has grown exponentially. It was one thing to raise the gift from $1 to $2 to $5 and then $10. But then even that changed. We drifted apart and then slowly saw each other again. Walking back to our jobs after lunch after renewing our friendship we passed a homeless man that we had passed many times in the past. He provoked genuine sympathy, standing on one leg only and a crutch. It was no longer enough now for my friend to drop bills in cup. He made a point of standing ceremoniously, extending his hand for a shake and addressing the man by name. The man said nothing in return, not even smiling at the crisp new bill.Beware of pity. It is an exchange. Readers of novels, do not linger on the man consumed with Liberal guilt. Instead think of our one-legged man. Make him smart. Or devious. Or rebellious, kindly, heroic. Make him barely functional if you want. What does he make of the pin-striped man, bowing like Hirohito on that ship? Perhaps, like me, he appreciates the gesture. But probably it means nothing. Although......What if he feels the pity behind the gesture, like a knife? Any one of us, homeless or not, has felt that. But what if he was just smart enough to be fooled and thought he was going to the suburbs for dinner? or would be offered a job? would be asked to be a Godfather? could date a daughter?_____ _____ _____ _____ _____Oh, the book? Well, it's about Pity, from both sides of the exchange. I won't tell you the plot. You can find it everywhere, in the description of the book and in almost every review. I liked the storytelling but not the story. If that makes sense. I was warned that it might be too drawing-room for me. I didn't know exactly what that meant until I read this and realized it was too drawing-room for me. It made me think of Pity. Not made-for-TV movies Pity with Lieutenants and noblemen's daughters, good-looking horses and, well, I think you have to fit Kiera Knightley in there somewhere. Not perfumed, inchoate love. No, it made me think of Pity on a city street, in a job, in a friendship. It made me think of Pity in a room by myself. Even then, maybe especially then, it's always an exchange.

  • هَنَـــاءْ
    2018-11-25 22:50

    ‏حذارِ من الشفقة !حذارِ من الحب !___جرفني ستيفان لزوايا النفس بتعقيداتها،لمن نضحي وكيف ومتى .. ؟؟لمن باستطاعتنا أن نتنازل عن أغلى ما نملك أو حتى أثمن ما نستطيع .. ؟؟هل الحذر من الشفقة .. هو الخوف من إظهار أجمل ما تكنه أعماقنا الإنسانية، أم الخوف لأن في ذلك وأد للروح وما تريد ؟لم يعلق في نفسي شيء من ذلك البطل أكثر من أن كنت حائرة، تائهة .. بين أن يحب بعزيمة شجاعة أو ينسحب ويهرب كجبان ..وحينما أفكر بعقلة .. أتسائل :كيف يتخلى المرء عن تلك الذاتية مع مفترق الدربين والتمزق .. ألا يحق له أن يختار ما يشاء ؟!ألا يحق له أن يتبع ما يملي عليه قلبه وذوقه ؟!أم أن واجب التضحية يلزمه بأكثر من ذلك ؟!ويفصّل له اختيارات أكبر من مقاساته ليغطي بها هموم من يعاني بعمق ؟!‏في النفس خواء .. لا يملأه إلا الخير. حينما تاهت خطاه تقدم نحوها، أشفق لمصابها، شعر بما لم يشعر به من قبل ..أن تتعاطف شيء ليس بالغريب.ولكن أن تعيش على ذلك التعاطف وتجري في بشرتك شمس الحياة بذاتها لأنك منحت نفساً بسمة تحتاجها بل في أمس الحاجة لها.وبعد أن تُشبع خواك وتمتلأُ بالفرح تقلق على ذلك المسار الغامض والذي يخرج التعاطف عن مساره ويرديك إلى حتفك المحتمل.أقصد إلى عذابك المستمر .. مع الصراع على تهدأة النيران حولك ثم لا يحترق بها أحداً سواك.وتُفكر ..هل خلقت لأنقذ العالم وأضحي لأجل كسيحة متكومة على نفسها ككومة قش .. أم أعيش حريتي بطلاقة واختيار حر ..!عفواً ..كيف تأتي الحرية بعد أن كبّلت قلباً بحبك ؟!كيف تأتي الحرية بعد أن هامت بك دون أن يرف منك لها شعور ..ثم لا ترى منها إلا النقص ولم تفكر كيف يشعر المريض في عزلته وفقد اتزانة.وهل الحياة سلسلة من التضحيات حتى أقع من بدايتها إلى نهايتها ؟!ربما نعم ..لأنها الآن تفقد مع كل يوم جزءاً من ذاتها ويتضخم في صدرها ذلك الحب الخبيث لمن لا يلتفت لها إلا بدافع الشفقة والحرص على سعادته من خلالها ..من خلال العطاء الكاذب.ليست المعاناة في النقص فحسب بل حتى في لوحة الفن والحياة، النقص جزء من الجمال والكمال .. وحتى العيوب ليست كما نظن عيوباً بما تحمله من ثقل .. إنما حتى النقص والعيب يأتي بصورة متناغمة مع وتيرة الكون بأكمله.متى يبدأ الإنسان بالنكران .. حتى ينقلب الحذر إلى ترقب إلى صراع مرير يمزقه من الداخل ويستولي على عرش روحه ..كيف أستمر .. -يتسائل- وأنا لا أكن لها الحب ؟!كيف أبدل مزاج الشفقة وغطاءه إلى صراحة الحب وثقته ..لا أحبها ..إنما أشفق عليها ..‏صراع مرير مع الذات وفلسفة حلوة .. مرة. قادتني مع قلم ستيفان لعالم مرير بشفافية تطبع على النفس حلاوة المرارة وذكاء الذات مع المعاناة والهم.شكراً محمد علي على هذا الاقتراح المميز✨

  • Teresa Proença
    2018-12-11 04:36

    "...nenhum pecado pode ser esquecido, logo que a consciência dele tenha conhecimento."

  • Maria Clara
    2018-11-22 00:47

    Exactamente no sé muy bien qué decir: hay partes de la novela que se me hicieron muy tediosas y otras, en cambio, eran como caramelos en la boca de un niño. Lo que sí puedo afirmar es que es una gran historia, quizás algo diferente a lo que yo me esperaba, pero Zweig retrata el alma humana como un genio de la pintura, sin olvidar ningún matiz ni sombra.

  • Baxevanidou Faye
    2018-12-13 02:37

    Δεύτερο μου βιβλίο του Zweig Πολύ δυνατό βιβλίο με πολύ δυνατούς χαρακτήρες που πραγματικά σε ωθεί να σκεφτείς 5+ Νομίζω πως θα αναζητήσω κι άλλα του ίδιου. Κάθε πρόταση δεκτή!

  • Magdalen
    2018-12-07 04:43

    Όταν τελειώσει κανείς το βιβλίο δεν γίνεται να είναι ο ίδιος άνθρωπος που ήταν πρώτου το διαβάσει. Ο Τσβαιχ σε βάζει σε σκέψεις , τις οποίες πολλοί -δυστυχώς- είτε λόγω συνθηκών είτε αδιαφορίας μπορεί και να μην έκαναν ποτέ.   Η γραφή μπορεί να είναι προβλέψιμη, το δέχομαι, ειδικά για όσους έχουν διαβάσει νουβέλες του συγγραφέα, αλλά αυτό δεν στέκεται εμπόδιο στον αναγνώστη για να γνωρίσει τους χαρακτήρες,  να τους λυπηθεί και να τους καταλάβει. Πρόκειται και ένα μυθιστόρημα πραγματικό αριστούργημα! !!(view spoiler)[ Επικίνδυνος Οίκτος πόσο ειρωνικός τίτλος και πόσο σε προϊδεάζει για την κατάληξη της ιστορίας. Μιλάμε για τον Τσβαιχ μην αναμένετε χαρούμενο τέλος...(hide spoiler)]

  • لينـــا العطار
    2018-12-18 04:52

    سبحان الله..كم أن النفس البشرية عصية على الفهم والوصفمشاعر كثيرة ومتضاربة وتصرفات تسيطر عليها هذه المشاعر دون وعي من الإنسان و أحجار دومينو تسقط دون أن نقدر على إيقافها و أحداث كثيرة تتسلسل حتى تصل إلى النهاية المحتومة التي لا مفر منها أشعر اني مبعثرة تائهة مثل ذاك الملازم لا أعرف ماذا أكتب عن الروايةمن يستحق الشفقة حقاً؟ هل هي أديث كما كانت الرواية توحي لنا طوال الوقت أم أنه والدها المسكين؟..أم ذاك الملازم المتورط رغماً عنه في أمر لا مفر له منه و في حسن أخلاق وطيبة و شفقة دعته للقيام بأفعال كان ليقوم بها أي شخص في مكانهأم أنها تلك المسكينة ايلونا المتورطة مع قريبة لها و المنتظرة حبيباً بعيداً رغبة في راحة و مالاً أكثر!الشعور بتلقي الشفقة من الآخرين شعور يمكن أن يدمن عليه صاحبه ، وأيضاً من يمنح السعادة للآخرين ليس من الضرورة أن يكون بهذا النبل والروعة فربما كان يدفعه رغبة عميقة منه بالشعور بالراحة والرضا عن ذاته لأنه يمنح لللآخرين نفسه و وقته ومشاعره رواية بمنتهى الروعة والألم و تجعل قارءها يعيش حيرة كبيرة بين مذنب و ضحية ، فمن هو المذنب حقاً و من هو الضحية فيها؟ربما لي رأي مختلف و ربما أراد الكاتب أن يخبرنا شيئاً مختلفاً في ماوراء السطور..لكنها تستحق القراءة جداً ، ستجعل نظرتك للعالم الخارجي ومن حولك مختلفة

  • Cris
    2018-12-08 05:44

    Este libro es un catálogo maestro de las emociones y la psicología humanas. En literatura solemos encontrarnos con los grandes temas (el amor, el destino, la muerte…) a menudo tratados de manera muy genérica, sostenidos por numerosos clichés, lo que crea un cosmos que percibimos como factible pero que se aleja en gran medida de nuestro propio mundo interior. Como excepción a esta tendencia, a veces encontramos una obra maestra en la que la forma de sentir de los personajes no es lineal ni absoluta sino que está plagada de errores en los que vemos reflejados nuestras propias contradicciones. Es el caso de este libro de Stefan Zweig.Reseña completa y mi versión de la portada en https://sidumbledorefueralibrero.com/...

  • Rebecca McNutt
    2018-11-30 00:28

    Beware of Pity is an impressive yet incredibly sad story and one that will resonate with readers long after they've read it.

  • Paul Blakemore
    2018-11-22 00:52

    This is one of the best books I've ever read. It does everything that really great books should do. It takes the idea of pity and really explores it as a human emotion. It left me feeling as if I might be a bit wiser about how to be a decent human being. On top of that, it is readable and I found it a bit of a page-turner due to the brilliant characters.It is so cleverly constructed too; a layering of narrative on narrative so that as each person tells a story or relates a rumour they all begin to echo and resonate with each other. Even the word pity itself builds up in subtle shades of meaning so that everytime it is used it becomes like an ominous bell sounding.If the writing is criticised as being melodramatic, I took it to be a characterisation of the first person narrator. He is constantly vacillating between over-zealous despondency and naive joy. I just couldn't find a fault with this and I'm stunned that it has taken me 27 years to find Stefan Zweig.Just my type of novel: detailed, psychologically nuanced, and deep.

  • Parthiban Sekar
    2018-12-14 03:25

    “There are two kinds of pity. One, the weak and sentimental kind, which is really no more than the heart's impatience to be rid as quickly as possible of the painful emotion aroused by the sight of another's unhappiness, that pity which is not compassion, but only an instinctive desire to fortify one's own soul against the sufferings of another; and the other, the only one at counts, the unsentimental but creative kind, which knows what it is about and is determined to hold out, in patience and forbearance, to the very limit of its strength and even beyond.”

  • Ana Carvalheira
    2018-11-23 00:25

    Estou, há meia hora, a pensar como devo abordar, com justiça, com alguma objetividade (impossível!), esta narrativa que só me ocorre qualificar como magnífica! Cada vez que tenho a felicidade de ler um livro de Stefan Zweig, só me perpassa um pensamento: que grande, que enorme alma essa que nos trespassa, que nos aflige, que nos cloroformiza os sentidos, ao ponto de negarmos o fim, não, não pode ter acabado, queremos mais e mais e mais … Chego ao ponto de protelar a leitura, não é altura para que se extinga o prazer que tão comovente texto me está a dar! EXIJO mais, quero mais!! Mas a inexorável realidade é mais forte … acabou sim, mas deixou uma marca não indelével como tantas outras narrativas que já abordamos, mas profunda , aquela que só os GRANDES autores conseguem infligir-nos, viciando-nos, tornando-nos escravos, seus cúmplices, pois não conseguimos imaginar as nossas vidas sem o seu contributo!Este “Coração Impaciente” (é a única coisa que não gosto em Stefan Zweig, os títulos melodramáticos insinuando, de certo modo, os mesmo que podemos encontrar na literatura “cor de rosa” … ARGHHHH!! ) é uma obra-prima! Coloca em questão até que ponto a compaixão, a piedade por outro ser nos poderá destruir! Até que ponto, não ficámos incólumes à dor alheia mas qual o preço que a nossa alma terá de pagar aos outros e a nós próprios! Embora a narrativa esteja localizada no pré Primeira Grande Guerra, quando as noções de honra, cavalheirismo, entrega, preconceito, amor, tinham outro valor, é impossível não sentirmos a atualidade em muitas das locações … Ainda hoje, nesta idiota sociedade que nos domina, na qual a imagem surge como fator mais do que preferencial, antes obrigatório, quem teria a audácia de amar alguém com uma deficiência tão forte como a de Edith? Ao mesmo tempo, esta fantástica narrativa questiona o facto de, quem fuja à normalidade estereotipada, não possa ser amado, não possa sonhar, buscar uma felicidade acessível aos ditos “normais”.Sem falar da prosa formidável!! Que bem escreve, que bem transmite as emoções!! É claro que vimos em Edith, por força da sua deficiência, um ser mimado, híper acarinhado por seu pai e pela sua prima, um ser a quem não deve ser permitido qualquer desventura, pobre criança paralítica, embora com uma personalidade forte, diria mesmo avassaladora, na tentativa, quase sempre conseguida, de impor os seus intuitos. Como não resistir, como não se apiedar? A questão aqui colocada, de forma sublimemente intensa, são as consequências da compaixão, até que ponto essa bondade de caráter nos poderá atormentar, fragilizar ao ponto de querermos acabar com a própria vida! É um romance notável, talvez o melhor que já li de Stefan Zweig e para quem aprecia, como eu, as dualidades, as lutas da alma, recomendo vivamente!

  • Mohammed Orabi
    2018-12-08 22:27

    " كلا ، فليس الأنسان السليم ، الأبى ، السعيد هو الذي ينبغى أن نحبه ، فمثله ليس في حاجة إلى حبنا .. إنه فى غطرسته وعدم مبالاته يتقبل هذا الحب منا على أنه واجب علينا ، نؤديه له صاغرين .. والحب المتفانى من جانب شخص أخر نحوه يكون بمثابة زخرف ، لمجرد الزينة .. حلية للشعر ، أو سوار للمعصم .. وليس نعمة حياته كلها ، وسر وجوده ! .. ولا يستحق الحب وينتفع به غير الذين قست عليهم الحياة ، فاذلتهم وحرمتهم نعمة الحواس ، أو الجمال ، أو الأطمئنان أو اليقين .. والذى يكرس حياته لمثل هؤلاء إنما يعوضهم بعض ماسلبتهم الحياة .. وهم وحدهم الذين يعرفون كيف يحبون ويتلقون الحب ، كمان ينبغى للإنسان أن يفعل فى تواضع وأمتنان .. "

  • Milly Cohen
    2018-12-15 02:39

    "el corazón sabe olvidar a la perfección cuando le urge olvidar"qué delicia de lectura, qué fragilidad de sentimientos nos conforman como humanos, qué cuidado hay que tener con la compasión, y más aun, con la impaciencia del corazón, aunque no sé bien si es posible detener su ímpetu y su carrera.pocos escritores conocen de esta manera nuestro ser más profundo, y la contradicción y complejidad que vivimos cuando somos débiles del corazón, en extremo compasivos o, sólo demasiado sensibles.me fascinó!

  • Edward
    2018-11-20 23:35

    ForewordAuthor's NoteIntroduction--Beware of PityTranslator's Afterword

  • د. حمدان
    2018-11-26 02:30

    حذار من الشفقة – ستيفان زفايغخامس عمل أقرؤه لزفايغ بعد فوضى المشاعر وقصة شطرنج وعنف الديكتاتورية وماري أنطوانيت. وقد كنت قد كونت عنه فكرة طيبة مما قرأتُ له سابقاً.. ولم تكن هذه استثناء.. بل لربما فاقت توقعاتي إلى حد كبير. وقبل أن أخوض بالحكاية والشخوص.. أود أن أعلق على العنوان "حذار من الشفقة" والذي بدا لي غير جذاب ولم يشجعني على قراءة الرواية من قبل. ويبدو من العناوين التي وضعت لأعماله أنها صفة عامة لأعمال زفايغ.. فواقع أنه يميل للسيرة الذاتية منه للرواية يبدو أنه طغى على حسه في اختيار العنوان المناسب. فما المشكلة مثلاً لو اكتفى صاحبنا بـ "شفقة" كعنوان لهذه الرواية بدلاً من العنوان الذي يأتي على شكل نصيحة ؟ -ومن المعروف أن الناس تنفر من مثل هذا الأسلوب بشكل عام-. تتحدث الرواية عن الملازم أنطوني هوفميلر بطل نمساوي في الحرب العالمية الأولى والمتوج بوسام ماريا تيريزا الإمبراطورة الأشهر في تاريخ الإمبراطورية النمساوية وأحد أعلى أوسمة الشرف التي يمكن لجندي إمبراطوري أن يحصل عليه. ورغم ذلك فقد أعرب هوفميلر لكاتبنا أنه يشعر بما يمكن أن يكون قريباً من العار عندما يلحظ نظرات التقدير والإعجاب من المدنيين بسبب الوسام الذي يزين صدره.. وإعتباره بطلاً قومياً. أما عن السبب، فهو محور هذه الرواية؛ الشفقة.زمن الحكاية هو قبيل الحرب العالمية الثانية حين يقص هوفميلر حكايته التي دارت أحداثها قبيل الحرب العالمية الأولى لكاتبنا. –وكنا قد أشرنا في مراجعة سابقة إلى الأثر الذي تركته الحرب العالمية الثانية في نفس الكاتب مما جعله ينتحر مع زوجته وكلبهما- والحكاية تتمحور حول تلك الفتاة "الكسيحة" –اللفظ هنا هو كما ورد في الرواية عمداً- التي تسمى "إديث" إبنة فون كيكسفالفا الرجل اليهودي الثري.. وحيث أنه من الطبيعي لأي فرد أن يشعر بالشفقة كانت الشفقة هي الثيمة الأساسية للحكاية. قد يواجه القاريء الذي لم يتعامل مع مريض مصاب بمرض مزمن أو بعاهة جسدية دائمة صعوبة في إستيعاب المشاعر الموصوفة من قبل الكاتب في هذه الرواية وقد يظنها مبالغ بها.. لكنني أرى أن زفايغ قد أبدع في وصف ذلك الشعور المختلط بين الكرامة والخجل ولربما الخزي الذي يشعر به مريض من هذا النوع.. وقد كان زفايغ أشد توفيقاً في وصف مشاعر فرد مرهف الحس كالملازم هوفميلر مع فرد مريض بمثل ما كانت عليه إديث. إن الحياة ليست سوى الأمل، ومتى ما فقد الإنسان الأمل فقد رغبته بالحياة.. تناقش هذه الرواية هذه الخلاصة التي لربما تحدثت عنها كثيراً في مقال سابق. وقد أضاف إليها عاملاً مهماً للغاية.. وهو الشفقة. قد يقدر المريض الشفقة تارة.. وقد يحتقرها تارة أخرى.. وليس ذلك لأنه غير سوي نفسياً.. لكنه أمر طبيعي فهو يحتاج لمن يعزز ثقته بنفسه.. ويرفع من روحه المعنوية وقد يكون ذلك موجوداً بسبب شفقة إيجابية؛ تلك الشفقة التي تجعلنا رغماً عنا نشد من أزر هؤلاء ونكون إلى جوارهم متى ما احتاجوا ذلك. لكن المشكلة هو أن الذي يقدمون تلك الشفقة الإيجابية.. قلة.. هذا بالإضافة إلى كون النفس البشرية "طماعة" فقد لا تكتفي بشد الأزر.. وتطمح إلى ما هو أعظم من ذلك. وهذا لربما ما حصل مع إديث. ألا يحق لها كإمرأة أن تحب من تشاء من الرجال.. ولربما أن تتوق إلى أن يحبها الرجال.. وليس أن يحبها وحسب.. بل ويحب جسدها كذلك. لقد أثار زفايغ نقطة مهمة للغاية في تحليل نفسية هذه الفئة من البشر.. وهي أنهم في أشد الحاجة للحب من الشخص السليم. فهم بعاهتهم هذه يملكون أكثر الأسباب الواقعية منها والوهمية في كونهم لا يمثلون موضوعاً مفضلاً لحب أو إهتمام الجنس الآخر. وهذا بطبيعة الحال يزيد من توقهم لأن يُحَبوا ويضاعف حتى من رغباتهم الجسدية لذلك. ألا يحق لهم ذلك ؟ وهنا أقتبس: أن المنبوذين، والمشبوهين، والأشقياء في حياتهم عامة، يشتهون ملذات الجسد بشراهة أعنف وأخطر مما يشتهيها السعداء !.. وأنهم حين يحبون، يكون حبهم عنيفاً، يائساً، مهلكاً، "أسود".. كأنما يشعرون بأن ليس هناك ما يبرر وجودهم إلا أن يحبوا، ويحبهم الناس !وفي المقابل، فإن الفرد السليم الساذج كالملازم قد لا يخطر ذلك على باله إطلاقه.. بالإضافة إلى وجود ذلك الجدار الإجتماعي الضخم الذي يخافه أمثاله. فما السبب الذي يجعل رجلاً ملازماً في الجيش الإمبراطوري.. شاباً، وسيماً.. معافى وفي أوج عطائه وقوته أن يربط مصيره بمصير إمرأة كسيحة ؟ لا بد أنه مال والدها.. فلا بد أن الملازم الإمبراطوري قد باع نفسه لابنة كيكسفالفا النبيل ! ولربما كلام من هذا القبيل يكون كافياً كي ينزل في صدره كالخناجر. هو ليس كالدكتور كوندور.. فلا يملك تلك الشجاعة التي تجعله يقدم حبه لمن هو من أمثال إديث في مقابل شعوره النفسي بالرضا.. ويتحمل في سبيل ذلك تلك الرعونة النفسية المتمثلة بالإنفعالات غير المبررة بين فترة وأخرى.. ناهيك عن ذلك الجدار الإجتماعي.. وحتى رفض الأهل القاطع. بل إنه ليس حتى مثل السيد كيكسفالفا الذي لم يتمكن من إسكات ضميره إلى أن تزوج من تلك المرأة التي خدعها وكانت سبب ثرائه ! وعلى ذكر فون كيكسفالفا لا بد لي من أعبر عن مدى روعة ذلك الوصف الرهيب لمشاعر الأبوة التي وضعها زفايغ بين أيدينا هنا. فهذا رجل يهودي كان يعبد المال ولا يشعر بأي نوع من المشاعر اتجاه أي شيء آخر.. نجده في أثناء مأساة ابنته نحيلاً، شاحباً، يقبل يدي الملازم شكراً وعرفاناً تارة.. ويركع على ركبتيه أمامه بكل ذل راجياً إياه ألا يرفض حب ابنته. إن هذه الرواية تمثل خليطاً عظيماً من المشاعر.. وحده زفايغ قادر على أن يضعها بمقاديرها الصحيحة. باختصار، إنها من أفضل ما قرأت حتى اللحظة. لقد كانت تجربة مثيرة بحق.

  • Carla
    2018-12-14 04:46

    Que livro descomunal... Ninguém podia acusar-me, ninguém podia ser meu juiz; tinha a sensação do assassino que escondeu o cadáver da vítima no fundo da floresta e a neve começa a cair, espessa, branca, fria; sabe bem que, durante muitos meses, a gélida cobertura esconderá o seu crime, e todos os vestígios, todos, estarão obliterados.E que personagem tão atormentada e inesquecível conseguiu Stefan Zweig construir: Anton Hofmiller.Unicamente aos maltratados pelo destino, aos aflitos, aos enjeitados, aos humilhados, aos sem beleza, unicamente a esses podemos, em verdade, valer com o nosso amor. Quem lhes consagra a vida redime o que a vida lhes roubou. Só eles sabem amar e ser amados como se deve amar: com gratidão, com humildade.

  • Evi Routoula
    2018-12-14 23:44

    Στην Αυστροουγγαρία των αρχών του 20ου αιώνα ένας υπίλαρχος γνωρίζεται με την πλούσια οικογένεια της περιοχής όπου υπηρετεί. Η παράλυτη κόρη τον ερωτεύεται αμέσως και " εκμεταλλεύεται" την ασθένειά της για να του προκαλέσει τον οίκτο και την συμπάθειά του. Ο πατέρας της βλέποντας μια ψυχολογική βελτίωση στην κόρη του υπόσχεται στον νεαρό αξιωματικό τα πάντα. Ο γιατρός της, ο οποίος ακολουθεί προοδευτικές μεθόδους ίασης και προσπαθεί για το ακατόρθωτο, παρακαλεί τον υπίλαρχο να τον βοηθήσει. Ο νεαρός πρωταγωνιστής κατεχόμενος από τα αγνότερα των αισθημάτων πέφτει εύκολα και σταδιακά στην παγίδα του οίκτου. Γιατί είναι παγίδα τελικά αυτό το αφόρητο συναίσθημα που δεν είναι αγάπη αλλά λύπηση για τον μη υγιή, για τον καταδικασμένο στο αναπηρικό καροτσάκι. Ένα τέλειο ψυχογράφημα. Είναι ένα μυθιστόρημα 400 σελίδων που σχεδόν δεν γίνεται τίποτα. Εννοώ μην περιμένετε δράση, πολέμους, σκοτωμούς και κυνηγητά! Είναι μια ιστορία που όλο το σασπένς της υποβόσκει στα συναισθήματα των ηρώων: οι σκέψεις της κοπελίτσας που ελπίζει σε μια πιο φυσιολογική ζωή, η αγωνία του πατέρα να σώσει την μονάκριβη θυγατέρα, η προσπάθεια του αφοσιωμένου γιατρού, το βαρύ αίσθημα ενοχής του υπίλαρχου. Στα συν η υπέροχη ατμόσφαιρα της παλιάς αυτοκρατορίας που δεν υπάρχει πια, ένας μεγάλος πόλεμος ξεκινάει που θα καταστρέψει τις αξίες που ως τότε ήταν δεδομένες. Όλα αυτά μας τα διηγείται ο αξιωματικός είκοσι χρόνια μετά, ένας καινούριος πόλεμος ξεκινά που θα καταστρέψει ξανά όλη την Ευρώπη και όχι μόνο. Φανερή η διάθεση του ειρηνιστή Τσβάιχ να καυτηριάσει και τους δύο παγκόσμιους πολέμους. Φανερή και η επιρροή του από την φιλία του με τον Φρόιντ και τις προοδευτικές - για εκείνη την εποχή- μεθόδους ίασης των ασθενών του.

  • Roman Clodia
    2018-12-14 02:38

    I'd heard good things about Zweig but gosh, this book is unconvincing melodrama. There's the germ of a taut novella here but dragging the whole thing out to 450 pages wore me down. There's just so much of everything: some relevant, a whole load just waffle. Although written in 1938, this has the turgid feel of something far older. We might not know, from the book, that Hitler has annexed Austria and that WW2 is close to starting - instead the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand, one of the causes of WW1, is used to interrupt the tiresome 'affair' of the paralysed Edith and her reluctant fiance, Hofmiller. The latter, supposedly a hero of WW1, shows himself to be a fool and a moral coward, passively allowing himself to be dragged into situations merely, it seems, to artificially ramp up the angst. Faced with a difficult occasion what does he do? Flee. Not once, but repeatedly. To fill out the story further, we have various tale-within-a-tale episodes as minor characters step forward to tell their own stories.There's an interesting premise here which might have made a piquant and telling novella - stretched to this overlong length, it loses direction rapidly. It was a relief to finish this.

  • Chuck LoPresti
    2018-12-10 01:48

    Beware of Pity is not going to please anybody that isn't willing to tolerate some anachronistic histrionics in the process of telling a pretty engaging story. The plot is fairly simple: an officer can't stand to offend so he allows himself to be manipulated by a family in need of a love-object/hero to save their invalid daughter. That alone would hardly merit 4 stars but Zweig is a great story teller and what is most important here is the psychological insights of a friend of Freud. Stepping inside someone's head can be a nauseating experience. Bernhard does a similar thing in Correction - not in the same style - but with the same results. Where the characters in Correction repeat themselves, revealing the sometimes less-directed wanderings of the neurotic mind, Zweig's characters' thoughts take more of a concise but no less revealing tone. Correction and Beware of Pity both made me want to inflict horrible violence on the characters and I'm fairly certain that's not a bad thing - I enjoyed both reads. It's almost like watching a decent horror flick with a huge audience that is all screaming warnings to the hapless kill-fodder - it's silly - but it's fun. Like a drunk to the bar - our officer keeps feeding his horrible addiction to pity until tragedy strikes. I can imagine this was much more fun to read 50 years ago when moral codes and psychological insights were a bit more compelling. It also reminded me of Witkacy's Insatiability a bit in that the shock of the subject matter had greater power to challenge normalicy. Now such histrionics operate more like historical reminders than mental upheavals but that didn't stop me from turning quickly though the pages waiting to see how it all unfolds. A similar type of atmosphere is seen in early silent drama (Von Sternberg for example) where overacting was the norm as a response to the missing narrative. Perhaps it all seems a bit labored now - but it didn't stop me from greatly enjoying this.

  • Wafa'a
    2018-12-05 05:42

    ولأول مرة في حياتي بدأت اتبين أن الضعف - لا الشر، ولا الوحشية - هو المسئول عن أسوأ الكوارث التي تقع في هذه الدنيا ...