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Books > Language & Literature > Biography & autobiography > Literary
'A smart and highly entertaining portrait of a literary powerhouse'
- THE TIMES BOOKS OF THE YEAR 'A riveting portrait' - GUARDIAN
BOOKS OF THE YEAR *** 'Christie lovers should read this biography
for the same reason they read her novels.' - The Times 'A model of
how to combine biographical information, analysis and literary
criticism into a propulsive narrative' - Daily Telegraph 'Worsley's
book excels in bringing a broader historical perspective to
Christie's life and work, and her enthusiasm is infectious.' -
Observer Ms Worsley herself writes engagingly... She combines an
almost militant support for her subject with a considered analysis
of her books and plays.' - Economist 'Nobody in the world was more
inadequate to act the heroine than I was.' Why did Agatha Christie
spend her career pretending that she was 'just' an ordinary
housewife, when clearly she wasn't? As Lucy Worsley says, 'She was
thrillingly, scintillatingly modern'. She went surfing in Hawaii,
she loved fast cars, and she was intrigued by the new science of
psychology, which helped her through devastating mental illness. So
why - despite all the evidence to the contrary - did Agatha present
herself as a retiring Edwardian lady of leisure? She was born in
1890 into a world which had its own rules about what women could
and couldn't do. Lucy Worsley's biography is not just of an
internationally renowned bestselling writer. It's also the story of
a person who, despite the obstacles of class and gender, became an
astonishingly successful working woman. With access to personal
letters and papers that have rarely been seen, Lucy Worsley's
biography is both authoritative and entertaining and makes us
realise what an extraordinary pioneer Agatha Christie was - truly a
woman who wrote the twentieth century.
Professor. Pundit. Public nuisance. In his columns, books and on social
media, Jonathan Jansen is prolific and he likes to speak his mind about
schools and universities, race, politics and our complex South African
society.
He has brought an incisive analysis, compassion and sense of humour to
some of the most controversial issues in our country for many years.
And now, in this memoir, he goes back to his early years growing up in
a loving, fiercely evangelical family on the Cape Flats,
being put on the road to purpose by an inspiring school teacher and
becoming the first of his generation to go to university under the
apartheid regime. Journey with Jansen as he finds a passion for
teaching high school and becomes a leading academic and thinker
amid great transformation in post-apartheid South Africa.
This patchwork of memories tells a bigger story than his own life. It’s
a tale of learning the value of ‘breaking bread’ with others, of
finding mutual recognition in our different faith and fears, our ideals
and frustrations, our hurts and our hopes.
When Franz Kafka died in 1924, his loyal friend and champion Max
Brod could not bring himself to fulfil Kafka's last instruction: to
burn his remaining manuscripts. Instead, Brod devoted the rest of
his life to canonizing Kafka as the most prescient chronicler of
the twentieth century. By betraying Kafka's last wish, Brod twice
rescued his legacy - first from physical destruction, and then from
obscurity. But that betrayal was also eventually to lead to an
international legal battle over Kafka's legacy: as a writer in
German, should his papers come to rest with those of the other
great German writers, in the country where his three sisters died
as victims of the Holocaust? Or, as Kafka was also a great Jewish
writer, should they be considered part of the cultural inheritance
of Israel, a state that did not exist at the time he died in 1924?
Alongside an acutely observed portrait of Kafka and Brod and the
influential group of writers and intellectuals known as the Prague
Circle, Kafka's Last Trial also provides a gripping account of the
recent series of Israeli court cases - cases that addressed
dilemmas legal, ethical, and political - that determined the final
fate of the manuscripts Brod had rescued when he fled from Prague
to Palestine in 1939. It tells of a wrenching escape from Nazi
invaders as the gates of Europe closed to Jews; of a love affair
between exiles stranded in Tel Aviv; and of two countries whose
national obsessions with overcoming the traumas of the past came to
a head in the Israeli courts. Ultimately, Benjamin Balint invites
us to question not only whether Kafka's legacy belongs by right to
the country of his language, that of his birth, or that of his
cultural and religious affinities - but also whether any nation
state can lay claim to writers who belong more naturally to the
international republic of letters.
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