Jean-Christophe, Volume 3

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H. Holt, 1913
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JEAN-CHRISTOPHE

User Review  - Jane Doe - Kirkus

Romain Rolland (18661944), who won the 1915 Nobel Prize for Literature, was a versatile and indefatigable man of letters, best remembered today for this massive roman-fleuve (published in three ... Read full review

Jean-Christophe

User Review  - Not Available - Book Verdict

Nobel prize winner Rolland's epic tale was first printed in 1910. This semi-autobiographical novel follows the misadventures of protagonist Jean-Christophe Krafft, a gifted composer whose dedication to his art alienates him from society. Read full review

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Page 148 - Then was kindled the wrath of Elihu the son of Barachel the Buzite, of the kindred of Ram: against Job was his wrath kindled, because he justified himself rather than God.
Page 55 - ... nought. You are addressing all men: use the language of all men. There are no words noble or vulgar; there is no style chaste or impure : there are only words and styles which say or do not say exactly what they have to say. Be sound and thorough in all you do : think just what you think, — and feel just what you feel. Let the rhythm of your heart prevail in your writings! The style is the soul.
Page 508 - Saint Christophe has crossed the river. All night long he has marched against the stream. Like a rock his huge-limbed body stands above the water. On his shoulders is the Child, frail and heavy. Saint Christophe leans on a pine-tree that he has plucked up, and it bends.
Page 332 - To a man whose mind is free there is something even more intolerable in the sufferings of animals than in the sufferings of men. For with the latter it is at least admitted that suffering is evil and that the man who causes it is a criminal. But thousands of animals are uselessly butchered every day without a shadow of remorse. If any man were to refer to it, he would be thought ridiculous. — And that is the unpardonable crime. That alone is the justification of all that men may suffer. It cries...
Page 93 - ... transcribed, — like the immortal scene in which Joseph makes himself known to his brothers, and, after so many trials, can no longer contain his emotion and tender feeling, and whispers the words which have wrung tears from old Tolstoy, and many another: " Then Joseph could not refrain himself. . . . I am Joseph; doth my father yet live? I am Joseph, your brother, whom ye sold into Egypt. I am Joseph. ..." Their beautiful and free relation could not last. They had moments splendid and full...
Page 54 - The smallest among you bears the infinite in his soul. The infinite is in every man who is simple enough to be a man, in the lover, In the friend, In ... every man and every woman who lives In obscure self-sacrifice which will never be known to a single soul; it is the very river of life flowing from one to another, from one to another and back again and around . . . "Write the story of this simply ... as simply as its own unfolding.
Page 466 - Mysterious is the fusion of two loving spirits: each takes the best from the other, but only to give it back again enriched with love. Grazia was not afraid to tell Christophe that she loved him. Distance gave her more freedom of speech, and also, the certain knowledge that she would never be his. Her love, the religious fervour of which was communicated to Christophe, was a fountain of force and peace to him (III, 462).
Page 373 - You see before you now only a man who is a seeker after truth: you must hear his cry. You have before you now only a man who ardently desires to see you great and pure, and to work with you. For, whether you will or no, we all work in common with all those who in this world work truthfully. That which comes out of our labors (and we cannot foresee what it will be) will bear our common mark, the mark of us all, if we have labored with truth. The essence of man lies in this, in his marvelous faculty...
Page 352 - I have sought to conceal neither its vices nor its virtues, its profound sadness, its chaotic pride, its heroic efforts, its despondency beneath the overwhelming burden of a superhuman task, the burden of the whole world, the reconstruction of the world's morality, its esthetic principles, its faith, the forging of a new humanity. — Such we have been. You young men, you men of to-day, march over us, trample us under your feet, and press onward. Be ye greater and happier than we. For myself, I bid...

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