Thomas Mann Books

I'm at a loss about how to begin a review of the titanic marvel "Joseph and His Brothers" because of its being so many things, adding fright to the one who tries to properly bring forth what future readers are in store for upon opeing its first page and delving into "Descent into Hell."

I have never before and doubt ever will again read a 1,500 page 'tale,' let alone one that includes a continuous barrage of gripping stories alongside psychological insight of God-like proportions. What's icing on the cake as to this book's sheer power and unforgettableness is its comic charm. I did not know I was going to be reading what is pretty much a comedy when being pulled into this marvelous Old Testament narrative.

If you have read the biblical account of Jacob and Esau on down to Joseph in Egypt and are worried that its contents couldn't stay intriguing for this many pages, there is good news, because it, for the most part, very much is.

In the preface, translator John E. Woods accurately proposes he thinks that "Mann ... wanted to make sure he had readers worthy of him" while explaining that some portions of this interweaving jewel are prone to be more difficult to read than what is, thankfully, the majority. And it is this truth, in which I agree with this stirling translator, that I breifly dwell upon.

In several used bookstores I've been to, the only part of this story that I ever saw available, and in a volume all its own, was H.T. Porter's translation of "Joseph in Egypt." Given its apparent availability over the other three parts, I suspected it would be the best - which Mann himself thought to be true. But, solely from the perspective of, as Virginia Woolf would aptly call me, a 'common reader,' I bring forth that those trickier 'riddles' that Woods forwarns, or maybe just mentions, occur most often in this third volume. The feel of being sidetracked a little too much continues on into the beginning segments of "Joseph the Provider."

Do these, I will dare to say, overly descriptive, meandering pages that include some repitition detract all that much from the sheer pleasure that dominates most of what is nothing short of this literary feast and party? Hardly not. For outside of this minor qualm over the author perhaps going a little too far about content that probably didn't require as much attention, there is no book I have read up until now that has offered more to a reader than this. I guess "sublime" is not a bad word to use when measuring the result of Mann's cataclysmic efforts that encompassed a time span of 16 years, no less, including a 5-year absence between the third and fourth stories.

He touches on such juicy, delicious insights about mankind, helping to devour the notion that life is different now compared to then. And while it is entirely varied in custom, how could our experiences be all that different due to the fact that we all have one monstrous thing in common, our humanity.

Mann had me wondering if he wasn't something more than human, though, his elegance, wisdom, humor and charm are in such top form. And while it could have been one of the great many gods of Baal that Mann includes throughout who could have helped guide his pen, I'm more prone to believe it was the God of the wanderer who possessed his wrist on occasion.

One of the greatest books ever written.

Also the kind of service / support rendered by Amazon, when the first copy did not reach me, was truly touching and amazing. Within a fortnight of not having received the original book sent to me, I had the book finally in my hands ! Great customer service.

For all the great technological magic of our age we suffer the misfortune of living in a time where the depth of hyperbole rends the edge from language leaving us bereft when the time comes to describe something truly remarkable. Thus to say that John Woods' translation of Thomas Mann's Joseph and His Brothers offers readers a gift of almost indescribable value may leave one wondering if I am making a literally true statement or simply wallowing in the common puff of our day. In this case the latter is the case for Mr. Woods' translation of Mann's great opus offers the reader an experience both challenging and sublime.

Readers unfamiliar with Mann's work may feel a sense of vertigo beginning this even more than his other works. Much of the style of narration, unique with its perspective shifting through time, seems almost purposely designed to leave one doubting their footing. Increasing the sense of dread is the books sheer heft, with over 1500 pages of small type and weighing in at almost two and half pounds. Yet those brave souls who resist the temptation to lay down this load in favor of a more easily digested work will come to in the end appreciate the feast to come. Mann's work rests on its own unique rhythm, and once the reader grows acclimated they will surely appreciate both the work and the great skill of Mr. Wood as translator. This series of four novels expounding on the biblical tale of Jacob, his son of Joseph of the famous robe, as well as his brothers, often comes when people engage in the entertaining and fruitless parlor game of determining the greatest literary work of the 20th century. While no single work can claim such a title, the complexity of the work and the Herculean task of translation should be evident that this is only the second instance of its translation into English in the more than 60 years since it first appeared.

Beyond simply outlining the work's subject matter, in many ways it seems written with the express intent of defying further description. With a complex web of interrelated stories, occasionally taking subjects that the bible reflects on for only a sentence and expanded on them for a hundred pages and at the same time seeking to place this seminal tale in its religious, historic, and cultural context, the work often leaves the reader gasping at the audacity of Man's enterprise. Yet almost every one of his efforts comes as a remarkable success, leaving one much to ponder. Indeed, any expectation that one can rush through this work will surely leave you with only a headache and little to show for the effort. Instead, one must take their time and slowly chew on Joseph and His Brother's digesting each piece in turn. Like many great works this one takes effort and diligence, but the reward comes as more than just bragging rights for having read it. Far more, it will offer an often eye opening new perspective and beckon from the book shelf to be taken down again so that you may reread this section or that.

One last point: to end where I began, Mann's attention to detail and word choice often gives pause, making each of us consider the harm done when we rain down words on a subject when a mere drop would do.

The new translation of Joseph and His Brothers is beautiful, as is the novel. Yes, it's long--about 1500 pages--but it's worth all the time it takes to read. Perhaps this isn't the place to start, if you haven't read Mann before, but if you already admire his work, you're going to love this book.

Anyone who has read my Listmania "Escape Mass Market Fiction" knows that I touted this novel (tertrology actually) as having ".... the most exquisite language since Shakespeare". But it is truly beyond that. After 30 years and over 3,000 books read I can affirm that there simply has been no greater work of fiction produced in any century by man or woman. One of the reviewers for the Lowe-Porter translation was dead-on saying you keep wanting to go back and reread the last 20 pages you managed to finish just to savor the experience. Original editions are a little rare and expensive, but, like any treasure, it's rewards are transcendental, and once read, you can consider yourself part of the most esoteric world of the true literati. NOTE-- Beginners who are easily scared off and prefer to sample before committing might want to skip the Preludes and go straight to the main chapters.

Compulsion pulls you through the powerful woodcuts in a few minutes. Each successive reading takes longer as you discover and savor character, plot and craft. Masereel lived by the nitroglycerin theory of rhetoric--the fewer the words, the leaner the lines, the more powerful the message.

"Passionate Journey" and "The City".
Both books of woodcuts are produced by Dover Books. The presentation of both is simple but the reproduction of the woodcuts is very good. These woodcuts are as fresh today as they must have been radical when first published in 1919 and 1925 respectively. These 'books without words' are fascinating in their portrayal of the human condition. "Passionate Journey" I believe to be a true work of art. One criticism of the editions is that they lack detailed information on Frans Masereel's life and times. I would liked to have much more on the impact of his work at the time and the context with regard to German Expressionism and the Weimar Republic. These books will hopefully introduce the work of Masereel to a much wider audience. They also represent reasonable value for money.

Like the Tarot, the images here are universal and transformative. They have the additional benefit of a wry sense of humor and subtle undercurrents of a humanist sensibility.

A must have for any searcher or thinker.

When my sister gave me this book for my birthday, it was one of the greatest presents I ever received. I was inspired, comforted, and emboldened by Masereel's wordless tale of a questing spirit. Despite the fact that I've read it literally hundreds of times (almost every night when I was working in Calcutta), I always see something new in the subtle, highly expressive woodcuts. Besides the brilliance of his technique, the story Maserel tells is exciting, complex, hilarious and moving. A treaure I wouldn't trade for practically anything.

-- or is it? Masereel's remarkable little book declines to explain itself.

These 165 expressive woodcuts present snapshots from the life of one man, or so we assume. He's not all that special - he's not a great hero, leader, or lover, though he's each at one point or another. He doesn't rise above or sink below anyone else, except in the usual ways. As with Copland's "Fanfare for the Common Man," this book celebrates the ordinary. And, when seen in such detail, the ordinary becomes quite extraordinary.

The book opens with the un-named man's arrival by train. The crowd and surroundings excite him, as does the mechanism of the train itself. Then, he's off to his new life in the city. We see that life in an uneven, even surreal pace. Masereel's vivid, expressive images hopscotch through the years of his life. Sequences of unrelated images seem to compress years into just a few pages. Other times, long sequences examine individual stories in detail - the adoption of a daughter, his happiness in her, and her final illness and death may be the most moving. It's a life-changing event, and sets the anonymous man off on a lengthy voyage, perhaps to lose himself or to find himself again. He returns to the city life, and eventually retires. The imagery changes radically at this point. It suggests Van Gogh's "Sunflowers" and "Starry Night," and also hints at Van Gogh's death.

Or maybe not. The imagery speaks volumes, but speaks a different volume to each viewer - and will probably speak differently to me when I read it again. Although it's an illustrated story, it's not for children. It is for anyone who wants to see the grandparents of today's illustrated fiction, or who appreciates woodcut in itself. This Dover edition is a beautiful reproduction, with richly saturated blacks but paper opaque enough to keep each page from bleeding through. It's easy to enjoy - so go ahead, enjoy it.

//wiredweird

This story has nothing to do with sex. In all of Mann's stories he is struggling with living life without art or living for art.
The boy represents art. If he pursues it he might die. That is his dilemma.

This supurb novella has been with me most of my life. I carry it with me when I'm alone or on trips. It helps me understand the tradgedy of living in a world of beauty untouched. It illuminates one of life's most sacred and profound secrets. It glows within me. Like the Bible, it is a book that stands alone. Elusive. Priceless. Angels are here.

An obsessive, unfulfilled passion is at the heart of Thomas Mann's classic 1912 novella, and Michael Henry Heim's 2003 translation liberates the homoerotic elements of Mann's sometimes dense prose to make the main character more accessible to contemporary readers. Heim succeeds in bringing the story out of the academic cobwebs. The plot is light on action, as it focuses squarely on middle-aged Prussian novelist Gustav von Aschenbach as he pursues his passion for Tadzio, a young Polish boy on vacation with his family in Venice. Past his peak as a successful writer and facing his fast-approaching mortality, von Aschenbach sees Tadzio as a symbol of his own faded youth and of attractions that were never made reality in his fifty-plus years. The writer is in the middle of a book about Frederick the Great when he arrives in the sweltering heat of Venice where there is an Asiatic cholera breakout.

Although the more literal interpretation of von Aschenbach's constant pursuit can be seen as wanton lust, the real undercurrent that Mann provides is the writer's self-validation as an artist. Toward that end, Mann has his protagonist look at Tadzio as an object of irreproachable beauty, something that fulfills his need to get reacquainted with his artistic integrity. Heim's translation allows the story to get past the titillation factor into what comes across almost like a ghost story given that von Aschenbach never touches or even speaks to Tadzio. There is a sense that something transcendent will occur toward the end, but it becomes a race against time to see if von Aschenbach's fever dream becomes tangible. Mann's struggles with his own sexuality are palpable on these pages, but so is his emotional distance from the character's passions. It's this concurrent dichotomy in perspective that makes this book a classic and not something to be relegated simply to the gay fiction shelves at the bookstore. Novelist Michael Cunningham ("The Hours", "Specimen Days") wrote the introduction to the 2003 Heim edition.

This book deserves 3 sets of 5 stars.

The first set goes to Michael Cunningham's extraordinary forward. His insights are tremendous and well worth reading. Read them first if this is your second time through the novel, or save them for the end if this is your first time through.

The novel itself is simply a masterpiece. One of the best novels ever written, and quality per word, the best I know of. It was phenomenal when I was 20, it is even better now, 30 years later (though I do miss reading it on the Lido!)

This translation is far better than the one I read originally, and that may well be a sign of the times as much as a comment on the quality of the two translators.

Don't read too much about the book, read the book. Wonderful.

This is a wonderful novella, written as a self-reflective piece about Mann's own life and how he imagined dying a beautiful death. The descriptions of Venice are beautiful, as are the classical references. The death scene is quite nice, turning from one perspective to another, gently.

This is among my favorite books, and is greatly underappreciated.

Other reviewers have emphasized the thoughtfullness of the story in plumbing the dichtomy between mind and body. But this is something many authors have sought to do, and what distinguishes Mann's treatment is the simplicity with which he imparts the story and the manner in which he brings the exotic story of India home and makes it easily accessible to all.

There is a grace to each sentance; the translation is wonderful. There is no attempt to overwork the writing or story, and its very profundity lies in its simplicity. I have told this as a bed-time story to my children, who are as fascinated as adults by it, and people whom I have recommended the book to continue to discuss it and refer to it when we talk.

This is quite short, and can be read in an evening. Most highly recommended.

This book is more than a love story, or a story about marriage or friendship. It is a story that addresses the ever present dilema of whether we ought to make decisions based on our feelings or our intelect. This book tells you exactly to whom you should listen to, and why. This alone is absolutely REFRESHING! I have used this book in creative writing workshops, where I challange my students to think how their body would react if it carried someone else's head. Or what song a piano would play if it had their head attached to it. This book has a strong under current of morality, making the reader reflect on the "stuff that principles and values are made of", and what makes us authentic human beings.

Thomas Mann's works are always full of dichotomies of various kinds: feeling vs intellect, freedom vs authority, immorality(decadence) vs morality(respectability), artistic or religious pursuits vs participation in everyday life. So it is not surprising that he wrote a book about two people who represent opposite ways of living. One character lives by the dictates of the reasoning head, the other by the dictates of the sensual body. In Mann's mystical India a wonderful accident allows for an interesting experiment. Don't want to give too much away for the fun is in not knowing exactly what happens. Suffice it to say that this is a unique kind of book of novella length, a form Mann was especially competent with. In a way this is Mann's Siddhartha though one informed with many dualites, including the east/ west one. This book attempts to unify all those oppositions once and for all but that is no easy task. This book has humor and humanity and that magic that only the simplest fables have, once you read it you will never forget it.

Short novel packed with rich language and strong plot. Story is placed in India, which adds mysticism to already mystrious issue of sexual desire and marital responsibility between husband and wife. And since no real love story can have a happy ending, for most real loves are not the happy ones, the tragic ending only adds the strength to this magnificent novel.

Thomas Mann takes the Cartesian split--that endless war between mind and body, galvanized on one side by Descartes' battle cry "I think, therefore I am"--and illustrates the conflict using two characters, two young friends, in this Indian legend turned fantastical tale of the absurd. Nanda is a farmer and blacksmith, a strong, earthy youth rooted in his physical body, and the contemplative Shridaman is a merchant's son with priestly, Brahman blood in his lineage. Though the young men are polar opposites, they have a strong friendship built on mutual admiration and a hint of health envy.

Their differences manifest during a journey together when the two men come upon the sight of a beautiful young woman at a remote, ritual bathing-place. They observe the woman secretly as she bathes, and Nanda enjoys the sight without shame. Shridaman, though, is by turns embarrassed, then inspired. Mann launches the friends into a hushed philosophical discussion--a frequent attribute of the novel. Shirdaman says, "Yet we are ... guilty if we simply feast on the sight of beauty without inquiring into its being," and he promptly falls in love with the young woman, Sita, languishing over her with the exaggerated fatalism of the smitten lover in a Shakespearean comedy. Eventually, Sita and Shridaman are married.

From this scenario springs one of the most bizarre love triangles in literature, leading to a confrontation with Kali, earth mother and patron of the body, and later to another meeting, at the other end of the spectrum, with an ascetic holy man. These powerful archetypes impel the pendulum of fate back and forth above the three characters. Again and again the question is asked: Is it the head or the body which is most closely linked with the Beloved? Tragedy is inevitable--visiting the trio more than once--and in the end all hope for the future lies with Andhaka, Shridaman and Sita's young son. The boy is a nearsighted introvert whose quiet innocence hints at some vague potential for change, for bridging this gap between mind and body.

One element detracting from the book is the translation (copyrighted in 1941). While the translation is not entirely without merit--in chapter 5, for example, the passage describing Shridaman's descent into Kali's dark, heady, womb-like temple begs to be read aloud--the novel's prose is sometimes choppy with convoluted, problematic sentence structure. The novel's potential among English readers is certainly hampered by its being long overdue for a new translation.

The third edition of Thomas Mann's "Oxford Guide to Library Research" is an indispensable friend for students and scholars, or anyone in the general public who has a hobby, a pet project or just the desire to know, and wants not only to improve their research skills but to learn - and take full advantage of - all the resources available to the library researcher in the Computer Age. When the second edition of the "Oxford Guide" was published, all the way back in 1998, computer programs in libraries were pretty much limited to a catalogue of a library's holdings, a smattering of databases perhaps, and Internet access, maybe. Dr. Mann unfolds the riches that may now be found at library workstations and the new ways to find the best on its shelves.

And you can't hope for a better guide. A reference librarian in the Main Reading Room of the Library of Congress for 25 years, Dr. Mann's firsthand experience in helping patrons get the most out of their library experience is evident in this book. While some would consign libraries and the outmoded technology they were built to house (known as books) to the dustbin, Dr. Mann reveals how computers have done more for library research and serious scholars than for the search for general, often disorganized and unreliable, "information" on the Web.

In the early days of computerization there was a popular acronym for the uncertain results of Internet searching, GIGO (Garbage In Garbage Out). It has been supplanted nowadays by the kinder, gentler "I feel lucky" or, for the happy-go-lucky, the "sloppy search." Use these methods, whether on a search engine or a library computer catalogue, you'll likely lwind up with thousands of hits. (Good luck.) But here's Thomas Mann to the rescue. In his chapters on subject headings, on keyword searches and on Boolean combinations and search limitations, he sets out to help you define your subject concisely and precisely, and choose the search methods that will get you to the best sources for your project, instead of settling for what is "good enough." (Is it?)

In "The Oxford Guide to Library Research" you will learn how the indexed subheadings in a subject browse on the library computer catalogue can turn up unexpected sources - instant bibliographies, so to speak - that are just right for your topic, as well as how to negotiate such as the electronic databases with full-text articles from thousands of journals and newspapers. The rest of the book is devoted to the range of print and electronic resources: the specialized encyclopedias on topics that you would never imagine have encyclopedias of their own; microform and CD-ROM databases; online programs that can locate books in a more distant library if it turns out that what you seek is not available in your local branch. An innovation in this edition of the "Oxford Guide" is facsimiles of the actual search pages of major databases to illustrate examples in the text. His invaluable chapter, "Hidden Treasures," has grown by half again from the one in the second edition, now noting print collections that are also available in online databases, as well as a selection of collections exclusive to the web.

Dr. Mann's major goal is to get you to the sources you want, and ones you don't yet know you want, in the most direct and effective way; to make you think, not like a librarian, but as someone with a specific personal research goal, and to give you the knowledge and skills to accomplish it. He peppers the book with anecdotes from his firsthand experiences with researchers, the college student, the accomplished professor and the weekend scholar, while relating information in a conversational, descriptive fashion with sparing use of professional jargon. With "The Oxford Guide to Library Research" at hand when you get to work on your next project, you may discover that doing the research for it is half the fun of getting there. Or, maybe, all of it.

Outstanding work with clear illustrations and examples of how to improve your library research. I learned more about library research in this book than in all my years pursuing a doctorate degree.

A MUST have for anyone who spends time in the library. You do not have to be a professional researcher or academician to get useful tools from this book. My kids have read the book as well, and their research projects for school improved dramatically.

I strongly recommend this book is you plan any research projects in the future.

Dr. Mann really pulls out the stops with this excellent reference guide. After 18 years at the LoC he knows the tricks!

This is a terrific book for anyone interested in books and finding information. The author works at the Library of Congress, and has extensive experience looking for information of all kinds. he uses both print and electronic sources, and both to great advantage. His tips on using ordinary sources are exceptional; for example, did you know that the AMERICANA often prints important American speeches in their entirety? If you are a book lover, this is a useful guide, which you will use for a long time.

Besides being packed with information that will aid research at any level, it is an enjoyable read as well.

This volume, edited by Stephen D. Dowden, is a collection of excellent, scholarly articles on "The Magic Mountain" and Thomas Mann's writing in general. The misleading word 'companion' in the title actually means that the novel should be read first. The reader of Mann's work should enjoy and learn from the novel first without any filter of other experiences. Then the reader can compare her thoughts with those of the authors of the articles. The reader is in the cat-bird seat agreeing with some ideas and dismissing others in the "Companion". In particular, I liked the articles by Snowden ("Mann's Ethical Style"), Goodheart ("Thomas Mann's Comic Spirit") and Engelberg ("Ambiguous Solitude"). I agreed with most of the comments in these articles and disagreed with a few points in each one. The book reinforces the reader's insight gained from "The Magic Mountain."

I feel that it is essential to a better understanding of Thomas Mann's Magic Mountain.

Thomas Mann brought German fiction into the mainstream of European literature beginning with the publication of his novel "Buddenbrooks" in 1901 to his death in 1955. Before his literary work, German novels were rarely read outside of the German-speaking countries. He was the first since Goethe to attract a large international audience to stories written in the German language. Mann considered the single greatest novel of his literary career to be "The Magic Mountain", a true modernist classic. Very highly recommended, informative, and insightful reading for Thomas Mann enthusiasts and German Literary studies, A Companion To Thomas Mann's Magic Mountain is an impressive collection of eleven essays by articulate scholars addressing the contributions of Thomas Mann in a post-modernist era, with particular reference to his comic vision, homosexuality, attitude toward Jews, his novel within the landscape of postmodern life; the theme of solitude, music in the novel, technology, and more.

The eleven critical essays in "A Companion" are some of the best literary essays on the monumental novel by Mann "The Magic Mountain." The essays actually range wider than just this huge book and take in themes throughout Mann's fiction, both novels and short stories and novellas.

Some are specific; Mann and his conflicted view on Jews (he was almost anti-Semitic in some instances, yet married a Jewish woman and wrote a supremely Jewish book "Joseph and his Brothers.") Others cover themes that are general to his writing--sickness, music, decline, art. After reading these essays, my mind was teeming with new ideas and I began to see entirely new threads in all Mann's books. For example, the use of teeth as a symbol in "Buddenbrooks." An essay discusses the weak teeth of Thomas Buddenbrooks (which cause his death) and his son Hanno, a symbol of decline and decay, literally. And carrying that thread forward, one notices the description of abundantly, almost unnaturally healthy teeth (Gerda Buddenbrooks and the dubious Aline Puvogel, the courtesan who marries Christian, Tom's brother, who have teeth that are described as incredibly white and strong.) Detlef Spinel ("Tristan") has teeth that are large and decayed--the outward manifestation of some inward decay, perhaps what has drawn to stay at an elegant sanatorium.

Though the essays deal mainly with "Magic Mountain" I found them insightful as well for "Dr. Faustus." In short, if you love the fiction of Thomas Mann, reading these essays is time well and pleasurably spent.

A famous German writer, Gustav von Aschenbach, a lonely intellectual, goes to the Lido in Venice to escape from his depressing, repetitive existence. In the luxurious Hotel des Bains where Mann wrote and set his story, Aschenbach sees a Polish family that has a fourteen year old boy who is a beauty, a work of art.
Having seen the hotel in my visit to Venice in November of 2007, I was anxious to reread the novella. I must say that I was disappointed. At times the story is like a philosophical treatise, essayistic, more abstract with less narrative drive than a fictional work usually possesses. The story gets bogged down at crucial junctures although the narrative velocity does accelerate and heighten toward the end.
The story is subtle, ambiguous, indeed murky at times. Bear in mind as you read that the book was written in 1913; it is not about a simple sexual attraction or licentiousness. The story is multi-leveled, a philosophical quest and pursuit of the ideal of beauty. The book is not an easy read with its mythological references, digressions, and overwrought prose style.
The city is infested; Aschenbach's brain is infected with thoughts of the boy Tadzio. The manner in which Mann describes the growing pestilence and the decay in the city and the conspiracy of silence by the merchants afraid to scare away the tourists is richly evocative, very well crafted. It is an overheated atmosphere and foul air is being brought by the sirocco, the wind coming in from Africa. The writer makes every preparation to leave after being told to do so, but it is the vision of the boy that draws him back. He is completely under a spell.
Aschenbach wants to get his own youth back; he has his hair dyed and curled, and wears lipstick and jewelry. The boy is aware of him, but does not flirt with him nor try to entice him. The vitality of the youth is in stark contrast to the writer's psychological impotence and physical decline.
Some readers may see in it a tragedy, but it is more akin to pathos. We never see Tadzio's inner persona; he is the person seen and admired from the writer's perspective for his godlike beauty, and that is an advantage. Aschenbach arrived in the Lido in a black coffin-like gondola, so we have a feeling that this trip to the Lido is going to be a transcendent journey for the artist.
Nine Lives Too Many
The Daemon in Our Dreams
The Rice Queen Spy
Clawed Back from the Dead

I don't have much more to add to Grady Harp's effusive praise, except to say that I pretty much agree with his main points. I first read the classic H.T. Lowe Porter translation in college and liked it then . . . anything for a thorough expose of what it means--or necessarily used to mean--to be gay and aging. Even Lowe Porter's fusty Edwardian strains, imparting dignity and Olympian tragedy to the drama, seemed apt at the time for a life--in the middle of another pestilence--that seemed to offer no happy ending.

But since then we've had Will and Grace and countless gay characters, mostly minor, in films and on TV--and one of the great things is that it's okay to laugh about it all. Even at what we in the community used to call tragic and sometimes in our bitchier moments still do. This translation invites us to smile, and even occasionally howl. By giving Aschenbach an obsession with the Greek gods (toward the end he uses the words god and godlike about a dozen times in two pages), Mann not only shows us what was required at the time as a good alibi or cover for homosexual tendencies (not even "identities")--"classical culture" and "noble classicism" and so on: everything that involved nude boys and swimming hole frolics and attention served to youth and beauty in young beauties--but also gave us in the future (inadvertantly, I don't know, since I don't read German) the keys to understanding a period in which so-called bourgeois culture needed its literature and high art to justify the ancients' curious sexual habits. An almost neurasthenic obsession with youth and health and beauty being an ironic side feature of cultured life.

The result for Mann, in one instance, is a wonderfully dry scene in which the old writer goes to the barber and frowns at his "pinched face" in the mirror, thereby unleashing a torrent of rationales from the barber for working his own art on the aging artist: dye job, little curl here and there, rouge. It's an astoundingly paced and worded moment, and what it leads up to is more dramatic and complex than I remembered in the most famous version. It's not so much about loneliness and a necessarily tragic life, it turns out in this makeover, as about the way we hide ourselves, cloak ourselves, in the identities the world wants to see. That's the tragedy Mann's getting at. Now the yellowing lenses of post-Victorianism have been lifted to reveal this more clearly.

So, three cheers for Michael Henry Heim--and five stars!

For those legions of readers who consider Thomas Mann's DEATH IN VENICE one of the pinnacles of 20th Century literature, welcome to the feast! Michael Henry Heim has restudied and again translated this brief but poignant novella with an English version more in tune with Mann's novella and certainly, finally free from all the societal homophobic restrictions that have shrouded previous translations. This is the tale of a writer - Gustav von Aschenbach - in his fifties who feels the need for exotic travels to break his writer's block, and after many aborted attempts to find the right place, comes to Venice and not only falls under its spell but also finds his sublimated desires for pure beauty as focused on young men awakened in his encounter with the young Polish boy Tadzio. This story has been translated into other languages, transformed into film by Luchino Visconti and made into the last opera of Sir Benjamin Britten. But though the simple story has captivated our minds for many years, it has never been presented in so eloquent a fashion as in this Heim translation. To wit: "On a personal level, too, art is life intensified: it delights more deeply, consumes more rapidly; it engraves the traces of imaginary and intellectual adventure on the countenance of its servant and in the long run, for all the monastic calm of his external existence, leads to self-indulgence, over refinement, lethargy, and a restless curiosity that a lifetime of wild passions and pleasures could scarcely engender." When he first encounters Tadzio "...he was infused with a paternal affection, the attraction that one who begets beauty by means of self-sacrifice [a writer] feels for one who is inherently beautiful." And "Was it not common knowledge that the sun diverts our attention from the intellectual to the sensual? It benumbs and bewitches both reason and memory such that the soul in its elation quite forgets its true nature and clings with rapt delight to the fairest of sun-drenched objects, nay, only with the aid of the corporeal can it ascend to more lofty considerations."

Once von Aschenbach accepts the fact that he is in love with the idea of Tadzio he sets about to quash rumors of the threat that cholera is invading Venice to keep his Polish lad from leaving the city (and von Aschenbach) with his family. "Thus the addled traveler could no longer think or care about anything but pursuing unrelentingly the object that had so inflamed him, dreaming of him in his absence, and, as is the lover's wont, speaking tender words to his mere shadow. Loneliness, the foreign environment, and the joy of a belated and profound exhilaration prompted him, persuaded him to indulge without shame or remorse in the most distasteful behavior, as when returning from Venice [to the Lido] late one evening he had paused at the beautiful boy's door on the second floor of the hotel and pressed his forehead against the hinge in drunken rapture, unable to tear himself away even at the risk of being discovered and caught."

Has Heim 'changed' Mann's story in to a more titillating one? No, indeed not! But he has rescued it from the mere Apollonian/Dionysian rhetoric with which other translations have cloaked the sensual aspects of the story. Here von Aschenbach becomes a fully three-dimensional character, one whose life up to the entry into Venice is understood and appreciated as a writer of brilliance, and one whose epiphany of the Eros submerged in this intellectual psyche blossoms in the most credible, tender way that far from being transformed into a 'pedophile', he is instead in that wondrous plane where awakened emotions of love and longing dwell.

Michael Cunningham has written a beautiful introduction to this new translation and, as we have come to expect from this contemporary gifted man of letters, his words are warm and befitting his admiration for this work by Thomas Mann. This is a book to be read and read again, and should you have other versions of DEATH IN VENICE in your library, that is all the more reason to pleasure your mind with the genius of this translation. Highly recommended!

A writer who undertakes to translate a complicated and nuanced work by an acknowledged literary master puts himself into an unenviable position, especially should the work have already been previously translated by another and be considered definitive. And yet Heim's update on the classic Lowe-Porter translation has made Mann's Aschenbach more fully human, more tragic and less comic, still every bit as pompous and self-justifying, more insidiously real. It's a triumph of the translator's art.

To me, anyhow, Mann's book has always been at least as much about the language, the inner self-talk of Aschenbach, as it has been about the story line or plot. It is fascinating to see how the author enters the mind of a man who has spent his life in rigid self-denial, self-deception really, and slowly - and not without considerable struggle from his ego against it - expands his consciousness. By book's end Aschenbach has not only found himself, he can no longer deny himself, he accepts himself as he is and then of course he dies. The journey he undertakes - not just from serious and constricted Germany to a holiday resort on the Lido in Venice, but from stuffy and self-important man living a lie, a life of 'despites', to allowing himself to be fully conscious of one true emotion and impulse and allowing it, even willing it to take him entirely over, to free him from himself, is the thing.

Well, it's a spellbinding book, and one which rewards close rereading.

This is a wonderful book. I was not familiar with Thomas Mann at all until I purchased this book. To say the man is a creative genius is almost an understatement.

I confess, I am a Thomas Mann fan! This is a wonderful book that anyone who loves Mixed Media, found objects and unique jewellery will love. A wonderful variety of "essays" written by others about Mann at different times in his career, starting in the 1970's including pieces written by Mann on his creative process. It is a wonderful read and you can see clearly how his unique style has developed.

The glorious images that adorn the pages of his work are beautifully taken and reproduced in page after page of work that you can not help but gasp at, sigh at and hopefully appreciate this remarkable artist's talent. The book may be "old" in terms of publishing (2001) but you just have to track this book down and keep it before it is out of print. This book is one of my most loved.

A book well done for the fan of Thomas Mann. It gives LOTS of detailed photos of all his work through the years, as well as an account of his life. I'm glad he gives acknowledgement for all the people who contributed to his success. Well done!

This book displays a beautifully photographed representation of Thomas Mann's creative genius that is not to be missed. Thomas Mann is a true modern master and this book details his life's work and inspiration from the past three decades. From the use of non-precious metals, found objects, and objects that are created to look old, Thomas's highly recognizable industrial style is an inspiration to many, and he will be remembered for his contribution to the world of jewelry arts, for many years to come.

These stories by Heinrich Von Kleist give great meaning to the adjective "Kleistian".

His prose is almost poetry and every sentence can be a roller coaster of intensity: from the Duke who in the matter of a line or two, goes from being on top of the world, to an arrow "pierc[ing] him just below the breastbone"; from Jeronimo Rugera who is a just about to hang himself in a Chilean prison until a whole city shakes in an earthquake and his fate changes forever. From the Justice of Michael Kohlhaas, to the thieves and miscreants who conspire against the church of St. Cecilia, who are brought to their knees by the power of the organ- these are stories of fate.

And that fate comes swiftly and blindsides the reader with confounding emotions and a new insight into a world turned upside down. This work was probably a product of Heinrich Von Kleist's own life of highs and lows, and the brilliance in between.

Buy the book, read these stories, you will come away spinning... but enlightened.

Kleist is the great, dark shadow of the German literary world. Born into a military Prussian family, he chose a literary career over the glory, order and ritual of his ancestors. He became a poet instead of an officer. He wandered from city to city, in search of a home, of solitude, a place to cultivate himself and his literary talents. He worried his friends with his demonic thoughts on suicide. He had a morose character and yet he was equally passionate. Stefan Zweig suggested he suffered from being continually extreme in everything he did, "always the superlative".

This collection of stories is not to be dismissed. "Michael Kohlhaas" is perhaps the quintessential piece; a tale of revenge and the price of vengeance, it is a universal story, appealing to our earthly desire for an "eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth". Kleist creates a world of corruption of conflict. The reader wants revenge for the protagonist but how far can one man go to attain justice? What does he lose, what does he gain?

"The Earthquake in Chile" is another disturbing tale. In the wake of a natural disaster, we learn nothing changes the minds and mindsets of people. The earth shakes but the evil of humankind remains deeply rooted.

"The Betrothal in Santo Domingo" - One could see it as the companion piece to the above. In a world of war and rebellion, who can one trust?

"The Beggarwoman of Locarno" is perhaps the most subtle and haunting of ghost stories. Not only does it revel in the mysterious but it is a morality tale revealing the foibles and flaws of a darkened human spirit.

Kleist never became a high ranking officer in the Prussian military but he saw the world falling apart all around him. His stories are a reflection of the dark times he witnessed within his time and within his psyche.

I absolutely refuse to believe that I am the first person to review this book. It being one of the most innovative and (truly) groundbreaking collection of short stories in the German literary canon, and influencing massively such big shots (probably with lots more reviews) as Kafka and Deleuze, you will forgive a little cognitive dissonance on my part. So, that being noted, I'll just reiterate what all the other reviewers have already said:
Kleist balances on a fragile strand of (in)sanity that slides lengthwise throughout these stories, not a one of them failing to reinvent the wheel--not only formally but substantively, as it behooves us readers to admit on the double. Don't let the cover fool you either... I did, for a long time, and there should be a dead lady's freaked-out ghost surrounded by three brothers with empty eyes, chanting the 'gloria in excelsis,' all backed by a burning castle with mutilated horses. I'm referring specifically to three stories in this collection---and only three---but there are far more mind-benders, crude and massive explosions of language, and just ouright amazing plots to all of them, that my skimpy comments can do no sort of justice to them. But that's o.k., because you can look at all the other reviewers for more informative responses.
Truly disturbing, truly maddening, truly genius. Kleist notoriously blew his brains out in 1811, after shooting another woman in an altogether fitting (yes, fitting...read and see why) suicide pact formed by Kleist in order to stick one last finger up at the world that had robbed him of his "lifeplan" as a rational youth. The world, that is, responsible for his "madness" (yeah right) and these stories, which clearly many of us have taken great pleasure in absorbing. The world, responsible for his funked up play Penthilesia, which Goethe avoided like the plauge, and for which Kleist had to be physically restrained from challenging the man to a duel.
If so many people hadn't reviewed this already, I tell you, I may have agreed with him about this absurd world. Thank God he was wrong!

This is a poor translation, unfortunately, of a great essay. I would suggest finding a copy of "A Man and His Dog" which is contained in most popular collections of Mann's short stories. e.g. "Death in Venice (and seven other stories)" Translated of course by someone else.

With its great love and warmth, this book is a very special gift to readers: a great writer turning his attention to something commonplace--the relationship between a pet and its owner--resulting in a story that is not sentimental, hackneyed, or sweet, but a moving exploration of the love between animals and humans. Just reading Mann's simple description of how he speaks his dog's name, Bashan, and the electricity that name sends through his pet, is worth every penny.