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Too Loud A Solitude
 
 
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Too Loud A Solitude [Paperback]

Bohumil Hrabal
4.4 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (7 customer reviews)
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Too Loud A Solitude + Closely Observed Trains (Abacus Books) + The Little Town Where Time Stood Still
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Product details

  • Paperback: 112 pages
  • Publisher: Abacus; New Ed edition (27 May 1993)
  • Language English
  • ISBN-10: 0349102627
  • ISBN-13: 978-0349102627
  • Product Dimensions: 12.6 x 19.7 x 0.8 cm
  • Average Customer Review: 4.4 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (7 customer reviews)
  • Amazon Bestsellers Rank: 99,170 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

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Bohumil Hrabal
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Review

'Short, sharp and eccentric . sophisticated, thought-provoking and pithy' SPECTATOR 'Unmissable, combines extremes of comedy and seriousness, plus pathos, slapstick, sex and violence all stirred into one delicious brew' GUARDIAN 'In imaginative riches and sheer exhilaration it offers more than most books twice its size . at once tender and scatological, playful and sombre, moving and irresistibly funny' INDEPENDENT ON SUNDAY Devastating... a superb book and a magnificent author' INDEPENDENT

INDEPENDENT ON SUNDAY

'Unmissable, combines extremes of comedy and seriousness, plus pathos, slapstick, sex and violence...'

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Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews
28 of 28 people found the following review helpful
By Budge Burgess TOP 500 REVIEWER
Format:Paperback
Bohumil Hrabal studied law in Prague just before the Nazis occupied Czechoslovakia and closed the universities. Although he graduated in 1946, his working life was spent on the railways, as a salesman, steelworker, stagehand, and compacting waste paper. In "Too Loud a Solitude", he comments that the intelligentsia was kept under tight control by both the Nazis and Communists, condemned to menial tasks and denied expression.

Hrabal was one of the foremost Czech writers of the 20th century, yet for much of his life was denied publication. He writes from experience - his prose captures the everyday language of the working man. In "Too Loud a Solitude", we have the thoughts of a man who, for thirty-five years, has pulped books for the police state.

The narrative places us inside the mind of Hanta, a misfit, ill-educated drunkard, whose solitary life is given shape and purpose by his job. He operates a hydraulic press which makes cubes of waste paper. The press is his only constant companion. But Hanta liberates rare books from destruction: he takes some home to stack in every available space, others he uses to decorate each cube of pulped paper, giving it a fine idea at its kernel, or decorating it with pictures of condemned art.

Hanta can quote Goethe, Christ, Lao Tzu, Nietzsche, Schopenhauer. His education has come from stripping thoughts from the condemned books. He circumvents censorship. Ideas cannot be kept trapped on the pages of a book, or tightly bound within a cube. Ideas escape to infect the human mind. Destroying books simply frees their words.

The novel packages Hanta's thoughts - each chapter is a monologue, a series of reminiscences, hopes, dreams, experiences. But ultimately, he is dragged back to the real world - his hydraulic press is to be replaced by a huge, modern one. He will be made redundant - the working class is finally being eradicated by technology. After thirty five years, Hanta and his press are as obsolete as the steam train.

Hrabal gives us the everyday language of the pub: his characters are ordinary working people, their lives are given form by their work, and can as quickly be made meaningless.

But Hanta's life addresses the irony of censorship. Marx had spent so much of his revolutionary life reading in the British Library. Lenin, too, had read voraciously, fleeing Tsarist Russia in order to be able to think freely and elaborate his communist philosophy. Yet the Communists proscribe the working class' ability to read and write. The new socialist regime was no different from the Nazis in its determination to censor thought and expression. It would provide the acceptable answers, no one was to be allowed to ask questions.

Hrabal's writing has a distinctly visual quality. Although he was influenced by surrealism and by writers like James Joyce, his stream of consciousness style has still adapted well to the cinema - many of his works have been filmed. "Too Loud a Solitude" is a humorous, tender insight into the loneliness and isolation of a working man. It is an affirmation of human consciousness and imagination, written in a delicious style; it is a book to be savoured, re-read, dipped into from time to time, and valued for its humanity.

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17 of 17 people found the following review helpful
Read this book. 1 April 2000
By A Customer
Format:Paperback
This is a fantastic book. It's very interesting in several ways: as a look at (a) life under a totalitarian system; as a thought-provoking exploration of books/art and life; and simply for the joy of the writing. The book's also very funny. It's teasingly philosophical, without being coyly or tweely so, and full of allusions which only add richness to the reading experience - they're never in-your-face or for effect. And the books main character isn't just a cut-out with which the author can vent his views. He's fully rounded. Julian Barnes calls Hrabal "a superb writer" and Kundera, without beung falsely modest, says he's the best contemporary Czech novelist. Here he isn't as self-consciously thoughtful/literary as either of those two, and he packs into a hundred pages more than most writers manage in many more.
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7 of 7 people found the following review helpful
Short, but sweet 21 Sep 2005
Format:Paperback
It was James Kelman's 'How Late It Was, How Late' that drew the praise 'a brilliant song of a book', but that could just as easily apply to this title.

'Too Loud a Solitude' relates the story of a young man, who, though working in a book pulping plant, loves books and attempts to save some of the better ones from being destroyed. As he spends much of his time with books, he picks up a lot of their language and cannot tell which thoughts are his own and which come from the books he is constantly surrounded by. And then a bigger, better pulping machine comes along...

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