White peaches, red broom, pomegranates tumbling down the escalator steps: with these delicately rendered details, Josef Winkler's Natura Morta begins. In Stazione Termini in Rome, Piccoletto, the beautiful black-haired boy whose long eyelashes graze his freckle-studded cheeks, steps onto the metro and heads toward his job at a fish stand in Piazza Vittorio Emanuele. The sights and sounds of the market, a melange of teeming life amid the ever present avatars of death, is the backdrop for Winkler's innovative prose, which unfolds in a series of haunting images and baroque, luxuriant digressions with pitch-perfect symmetry and intense visual clarity. Reminiscent of the carnal vitality of Pasolini, and taking inspiration from the play between the sumptuous and fatal in the still lives of the late Renaissance, Natura Morta is a unique experiment in writing as stasis, culminating in the beatification of its protagonist. In awarding this book with the 2001 Alfred Doblin Prize, Gunter Grass singled out Winkler's commitment to the writer's vocation and praised Natura Morta as a work of dense poetic rigor. "Magnificent. A poetic study of the transience of being. A deeply sensuous book." - Marcel Reich-Ranicki "A hypnotic novel." - Edmund White

This is a reproduction of a book published before 1923. This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part of the original artifact, or were introduced by the scanning process. We believe this work is culturally important, and despite the imperfections, have elected to bring it back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide. We appreciate your understanding of the imperfections in the preservation process, and hope you enjoy this valuable book. ++++ The below data was compiled from various identification fields in the bibliographic record of this title. This data is provided as an additional tool in helping to ensure edition identification: ++++ Lehrbuch Des Kirchenrechts, Mit Besonderer Rucksicht Auf Die Schweiz: Nebst Einem Anhange Josef Winkler Raber, 1862

In the years before the Second World War, a man throws a statue of the crucified Christ over a waterfall. Later, in Hitler's trenches, he loses his arms to an enemy grenade. The blasphemer, screaming in agony, presided over by Satan, who pours a cup of gall into his open mouth, is portrayed amid the flames of Hell in a painting by the parish priest that is mounted on a calvary where the two streets in the cross-shaped village meet. Thus begins When the Time Comes, Josef Winkler's chronicle of life in rural Austria written in the form of a necrology, tracing the benighted destiny of a community through its suicides and the tragic deaths that befall it, punctuated by the invocation of the bone-cooker whose viscous brew is painted on the faces of the work horses and the haunting stanzas of Baudelaire's "Litanies of Satan." In a hypnotic, incantatory prose reminiscent at times of Homer, at times of the Catholic liturgy, at times of the naming of the generations in the book of Genesis, When the Time Comes is a ruthless dissection of the pastoral novel, laying bare the corruption that lies in its heart. Writing in the vein of his compatriots Peter Handke, and Elfriede Jelinek, but perhaps going further in his relentlessness and aesthetic radicalism, Josef Winkler is one of the most significant European authors working today.