There are few writers who have chronicled with such honest clarity and such bold honesty the development of the soul through the stages of life. Peter Kamintsend (1904), Damian (1919), Siddhartha (1922), The Steppenwolf (1927), Narcissus and Goldmund (1930), and The Journey to the East (1932) are different versions of a spiritual autobiography, and different depictions of the path of Joan. Each new step refines the image of all previous steps, and each experience opens new worlds of exploration in a continuous effort to communicate the vision.
Hermann Hesse, winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1962, was closely connected to the Indian world. He was influenced by Eastern philosophies. When he was once asked about the most important influences in his life, he said that they were “the Christian and never nationalistic spirit of my parents’ house,” “reading Chinese masterpieces,” and “the personality of the historian Jacob Burckhardt.”
War has no female face (Nobel Prize for Literature 2015)
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Thousands of wars took place, short and long. We knew the details of some of them, while other details were absent among the bodies of the victims. Many wrote, but men always wrote about men. Everything we knew about war, we knew through “the man’s voice.” We are all prisoners of “men’s” perceptions and feelings about war, prisoners of “men’s” words. As for women, they have always been silent.
In World War II, approximately one million Soviet women participated in fighting on all fronts and in various tasks. Svetlana raises important questions about the role of women in the war: Why did women, who defended their land and took their place in an exclusive male world, not defend their history? Where are their words and where are their feelings? There is a whole hidden world. Their war remained unknown...
In her book, “War Has No Female Face,” Svetlana writes the history of this war. Women's war.
It is a strange memory, the memory of a child whose grandmother brought her to her home on the island of Majorca, due to the death of her mother, the illness of her nanny, and her father’s busyness. The war surprised her one holiday when she was fourteen. She accurately records in her memory everything she sees, including trees, rocks, sea, air, lights, colors, events, and the echoes of war far and near at the same time, and cowardice, betrayal, and treachery. She records feelings of hatred, revenge, fear, and love, her first love that is devoid of lust due to the absence of instinct. When she becomes a woman, and she is still playing with dolls, her doll is Black Gorogo, the chimney sweep that she brought from afar, from one of Andersen’s stories. So the times mix with each other, and the present moment calls for the near and distant past moment, and the latter may be longer than the first moment because it took its place in the memory and settled, and therefore parentheses, doubles, and abundant details abound without making one feel bored. Because all of this is written in a sublime language and in the style of a first-class writer: Anna Maria Matute.
The novel “The First Memory” won the Nadal Prize in 1959, which is one of the most prestigious and prestigious literary awards in Spain.
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