Reviste

excerpts When I call up one of these memories with my eyes closed and it is reborn with the intensity of its previous reality; when at other times, with the same intensity and in the same convincing light, settings and events which never happened pass through my mind; when

excerpts I could find antiques and old objects evoking sad memories on still another deserted floor in my grandfather's house. There the walls were covered by strange pictures having thick, gilded, wooden frames, or thinner frames of red plush. There were also several

Max L. Blecher was the son of a wealthy Jewish businessman from Moldavia. After graduating from college in Moldavia, he went to Paris to study medicine, but soon he got ill and became a cripple, forced to stay in bed till the end of his days because of bone tuberculosis.

(8. 09. 1909 – 31. 05. 1938)He was a genuine sick man. His novel Healed Hearts seems an imitation of Thomas Mann's Der Zauberberg. Everything connected to physiology is remarkable. From this point of view, his novel is a reportage of superior quality. 1941 by George

The fruit of his inability to be, his work is the only authentic existential assertion of his ego. Through the power of his word, he managed to deceive and to be deceived, suggesting that his poem, springing out from the void that surrounded life, had grown from the very

NOTES HoroscopeFebruary 2, 1921, 18:00, at Margot'sVery, very proud, capable of dissimulating anything. Compulsive gambler with a fondness for women; extremely passionate, I run the risk of killing someone. I have inherited the intelligence and character of my mother.

The well-known elements of fanciful prose are being joined by new features and grouped in a personal synthesis by the writing of Mateiu I. Caragiale. If we wanted to make a connection between Mateiu Caragiale and his father, the great Ion Luca, we would need to refer to

In a recent French translation Old-Court Philanderers have made quite a sensation. Different from Panait Istrati whose epic caught our attention, Mateiu I. Caragiale is not so good at describing a certain medium; his force lies in his rhythm, his intimate thrill, his sentence

He was more of a unsociable person, a loner, he seemed sullen and morose. Only among his friends he would become again the father of eloquence and paradox. Eugen LOVINESCU There was no one in the house of the great loner but me. From time to time, an old lady with big

Mateiu Caragiale left us a literary heritage, fragmentary in its outlook that puzzled and amazed through its originality, through an appetite for mystery it seemed to originate in, through the secret inspiration that fed it and through its old-fashioned lyricism which was

excerpts Que voulez-vous, nous sommes ici aux portes de l'Orient, où tout est pris à la légère. Raymond Poincaré*Welcoming the Philanderers…au tapis-franc nous étions réunis. L. Protat**Although no further than the night before I had promised myself under

Mateiu Caragiale was the natural son of Ion Luca Caragiale, the greatest Romanian playwright. However, his literary output appears like a challenge to his heredity rather than a filiation. The world portrayed is the same, the Balkan one, with its mixture of pretension and