Frammento dalla "Rosea crocifissione" 4. Get A Copy. Published by W. More Details Original Title.
Other Editions 6. Friend Reviews. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. To ask other readers questions about Sunday After The War , please sign up. Lists with This Book. Community Reviews. Showing Rating details. Sort order. Most of the essays in this book have been published elsewhere, in such works as The Rosy Crucifixion and The Air-Conditioned Nightmare.
I enjoyed some of the essays, particularly "Re-union in Brooklyn," about a disappointing visit to his family,whom he had not seen for many years. New Directions. Only date showing is , but I'm sure this is simply a case of the publisher not adjusting the copyright details of the 1st edition type-setting. The US 1st printing jacket depicted a bust of Miller's head.
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So I would guess that this is a late 50's reprint. Superb hardback bound in orange cloth with black titles on the spine. Sharp-cornered copy, with pressing to spine tips. No inscriptions or internal markings whatsoever. Looks and feels unread. In the original jacket, which is unclipped and now protected by removable archival film.
Very light wear to jacket edges. Collector's copy. Seller Inventory ABE From: Orca Knowledge Systems, Inc. Novato, CA, U. Condition: Acceptable. Owner name front free page 'Donald Friedman'. No other marks in book. No DJ. Binding intact. Hardcover wear, especially of spine and corner areas. Published by New Direction, New York Published by Editions Poetry About this Item: Editions Poetry, The boards look to a kind of faux leatherette, and show wear to spine ends, and general marking.
Sunday After the War - Henry Miller - Google книги
No internal marks and not price clipped. Published by New Directions, NY Dust Jacket Condition: Fair. A comprehensive selection - stories, essays, and other prose pieces which defy conventional classification.
Tan cloth. Edges lightly worn and page edges soiled. The jacket is soiled, worn at the edges, and has several tears along the folds.
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Text clean, no tears. Condition: Fine. Dust Jacket Condition: Good. Published by New Directions ; 4. About this Item: New Directions ; 4. New York, New Directions ; 4. Photo Millers; etw. Seller Inventory AB. Dust Jacket Condition: Includes dust jacket. First Edition. First edition.
Dust jacket shows moderate wear and tear, chipping and rubbing, tanning. Published by Norfolk: New Directions, , Norfolk Near VG - No Dj. The artist is situated hierarchically between the hero and the saint.
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To put it quite simply, art is only a stepping stone to reality; it is the vestibule in which we undergo the rites of initiation. The creations which man makes manifest have no validity in themselves; they serve to awaken, that is all. Despite his own profound passion for books , Miller envisions a future where the bound page no longer is:. In a few hundred years or less books will be a thing of the past. There was a time when poets communicated with the world without the medium of print; the time will come when they will communicate silently, not as poets merely, but as seers.
What we have overlooked, in our frenzy to invent more dazzling ways and means of communication, is to communicate. No, the advance will not come through the use of subtler mechanical devices, nor will it come through the spread of education. The advance will come in the form of a breakthrough. New forms of communication will be established. New forms presuppose new desires. The great desire of the world today is to break the bounds which lock us in.
It is not yet a conscious desire.
Sunday After the War
Men do not yet realize what they are fighting for. This is the beginning of a long fight, a fight from within outwards. Often, when I listen to the radio, to a speech by one of our politicians, to a sermon by one of our religious maniacs, to a discourse by one of our eminent scholars, to an appeal by one of our men of good will, to the propaganda dined into us night and day by the advertising fiends, I wonder what the men of the coming century would think were they to listen in for just one evening.
Myself I cannot see the persistence of the artist type. I see no need for the individual man of genius in such an order. I see no need for martyrs. I see no need for vicarious atonement. I see no need for the fierce preservation of beauty on the part of a few.
Beauty and Truth do not need defenders, nor even expounders. No one will ever have a lien on Beauty and Truth; they are creations in which all participate. They need only to be apprehended; they exist externally. Certainly, when we think of the conflicts and schisms which occur in the realm of art, we know that they do not proceed out of love of Beauty or Truth. Ego worship is the one and only cause of dissension, in art as in other realms. The artist is never defending art, but simply his own petty conception of art.