| Title | : | On the Battle Lost |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | - |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Kindle , Hardcover , Paperback , Audiobook & More |
| Number of Pages | : | 20 |
| Publication | : | First published January 1, 2015 |
On the Battle Lost Reviews
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Svetlana Alexievich is an investigative journalist, the winner of the Nobel prize for literature in 2014 and this is her Nobel Lecture. It can be read here:
https://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_priz...
After reading her lecture I am more decided than ever to read one of her books but I am also horrified to do it. I almost cried many times while I reading this small sample into her world and I can only imagine what reading one of her books can do to my soul.
I admire her gift (and also course) of listening to people's stories. In a world where everybody wants to speak it is rare to find someone to listen and have the courage to tackle such difficult subjects (Chernobyl, Communism, War).
An example of the voices she hears:
"We lived near the Chernobyl nuclear plant. I was working at a bakery, making pasties. My husband was a fireman. We had just gotten married, and we held hands even when we went to the store. The day the reactor exploded, my husband was on duty at the firе station. They responded to the call in their shirtsleeves, in regular clothes – there was an explosion at the nuclear power station, but they weren't given any special clothing. That's just the way we lived ... You know ... They worked all night putting out the fire, and received doses of radiation incompatible with life. The next morning they were flown straight to Moscow. Severe radiation sickness ... you don't live for more than a few weeks ... My husband was strong, an athlete, and he was the last to die. When I got to Moscow, they told me that he was in a special isolation chamber and no one was allowed in. "But I love him," I begged. "Soldiers are taking care of them. Where do you think you're going?" "I love him." They argued with me: "This isn't the man you love anymore, he's an object requiring decontamination. You get it?" I kept telling myself the same thing over and over: I love, I love ... At night, I would climb up the fire escape to see him ... Or I'd ask the night janitors ... I paid them money so they'd let me in ... I didn't abandon him, I was with him until the end ... A few months after his death, I gave birth to a little girl, but she lived only a few days. She ... We were so excited about her, and I killed her ... She saved me, she absorbed all the radiation herself. She was so little ... teeny-tiny ... But I loved them both. Can you really kill with love? Why are love and death so close? They always come together. Who can explain it? At the grave I go down on my knees ..." -
"I drove to a hospital for Afghan civilians with a group of nurses – we brought presents for the children. Toys, candy, cookies. I had about five teddy bears. We arrived at the hospital, a long barracks. No one has more than a blanket for bedding. A young Afghan woman approached me, holding a child in her arms. She wanted to say something – over the last ten years almost everyone here has learned to speak a little Russian – and I handed the child a toy, which he took with his teeth. "Why his teeth?" I asked in surprise. She pulled the blanket off his tiny body – the little boy was missing both arms. "It was when your Russians bombed." Someone held me up as I began to fall."
https://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_priz... -
We all should have read Svetlana's work much earlier.
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A strong and moving speech by Mrs. Alexievitch, with her own memories, the eye-witness accounts she recorded during her years as a journalist, and also her conclusions about what she had understood about the world and war from these experiences. It makes me want to read her works, to better understand her philosophy and to be able to “witness” what it is, war, for Russians, for Iraqis, for all humanity, from a point of view different than normal.
Un discours fort et émouvant par Mme Alexievitch, avec ses propres souvenirs, les témoignages qu’elle a noté pendant ses années comme une journaliste, et aussi ses conclusions à propos de ce qu’elle a compris du monde et de la guerre à partir de ces expériences. Ça donne envie de lire ses ouvrages, pour mieux comprendre sa philosophie et de pouvoir ‘témoigner’ ce que c’est, la guerre, pour les russes, pour les irakiens, pour tout humanité, d’un point de vue hors la norme.
Citations commenté
Le mal est impitoyable, il faut avoir été vacciné contre lui. Mais nous, nous avons grandi parmi des bourreaux et des victimes. […] Le mal était toujours là, à nous épier du coin de l’œil. – page 10
Evil is pitiless, one must get vaccinated against it. But us, we grew up among the executioners and the victims. […] Evil was always there, spying on us from the corner of its eye. – page 10
Tout de suite après la guerre, Theodor Adorno, bouleversé, a dit : « Écrire un poème après Auschwitz est barbare. » […] Ici, on n’a pas le droit d’inventer. Il faut montrer la vérité telle qu’elle est. On a besoin d’une littérature qui soit au-delà de la littérature. C’est le témoin qui doit parler. On peut aussi songer à Nietzsche qui disait que pas un seul artiste ne peut supporter la réalité. Ne peut la soulever. – page 13 – « Ici, on n’a pas le droit d’inventer. » -- Je pense que ça, c’est la raison pour laquelle je n’ai pas réussi à vraiment apprécier le livre
Rose Under Fire : je savais que rien n’était inventé, mais tout était utilisé d’une manière fictive dans l’histoire. De voir la vérité dans un ouvrage de fiction, ça m’a pris à rebrousse-poil.
Right after the war, Theodor Adorno, overwhelmed, said, "To write a poem after Auschwitz is barbaric." [...] Here, we don't have the right to invent. One must show reality as it is. We need a literature which is above and beyond literature. It's the eyewitness who must speak. We can also think of Nietzsche who said that not a single artist is capable of holding up reality. Is not capable of raising it up. -- page 13 – “Here, we don’t have the right to invent.” I think that that is the reason why I didn’t manage to really appreciate the book
Rose Under Fire : I knew that nothing was made up, but everything in the story was used fictitiously. To see those truths in a book of fiction, it rubbed me the wrong way.
Mais qu’est-ce que la littérature aujourd’hui ? […] Il n’y a pas de frontières entre les faits et la fiction, les deux se chevauchent. Même un témoin n’est pas impartial. Quand il raconte, l’homme crée, il lutte avec le temps comme le sculpteur avec le marbre. Il est un acteur et un créateur. – page 14 –Primo : Dans les informations des États-Unis, on voit chaque jour que les faits et la fiction se chevauchent, encore plus que jamais – et ce discours était en 2015. Secundo : « quand il raconte, l’homme crée » -- c’est une position dans laquelle je me trouve souvent – j’ai l’impression que quand je raconte une histoire, je crée l’histoire dans la manière que je veux que ceux qui m’écoutent vont la retenir. C’est coloré avec mes idées, mes impressions, et non seulement avec que les faits.
But what is literature today ? […] There are no borders between fact and fiction, the two overlap. Even an eyewitness is not impartial. When he tells a story, man creates; he fights with time as a sculptor with marble. He is an actor and a creator. – page 14 – First: in US news, we see the overlap of fact and fiction every day, even more now than ever – and this speech was in 2015. Secondly, “When he tells a story, man creates”—it’s a position in which I find myself often – I have the feeling that when I tell a story, I am creating the story in the way that I wish my listener to remember it. It’s colored with my ideas, my impressions, and not only with just the facts.
Il parlerait du fait que la guerre, c’est tuer. C’est cela qui reste dans la mémoire des femmes. […] Ce dont les femmes parlent le plus, c’est de la disparition, de la vitesse à laquelle, à la guerre, tout se transforme en rien. – page 17 – « C’est de la disparition »
He spoke of the fact that war, it’s killing. That’s what stays in the memory of women. […] What women talk about the most, it is the disappearances -- the speed with which, in war, everything becomes nothing. – page 17 – “It is the disappearances”
J’ai découvert que les armes sont belles : les pistolets-mitrailleurs, les mines, les tanks. Les hommes ont beaucoup réfléchi à la meilleure façon de tuer d’autres hommes. L’éternel dilemme entre la vérité et la beauté. – page 20 – La morte est moche, donc il faut des jolies armes pour la rendre l’action de donner la morte à un autre être humain un peu moins barbare. (Ou comme Rachel, dans la série
Animorphs #1-54: )
I learned that weapons are beautiful : machine-pistols, mines, tanks. Men reflected a lot on the best way to kill other men. The eternal dilemma between truth and beauty. – page 20 – Death is ugly, so one needs beautiful weapons to make the action of delivering death to another human being a little less barbaric. (Or like Rachel, in the series
Animorphs #1-54: )
Je me suis demandé quel livre j’aimerais écrire sur la guerre. J’aimerais écrire un livre sur un homme qui ne tire sur personne, qui est incapable de tirer sur un autre homme, que la seule idée de la guerre fasse souffrir. Où est-il, cet homme ? Je ne l’ai pas rencontré. – page 23
I asked myself, What book would I like to write about war? I would like to write a book about a man who never shoots anyone, who is incapable of shooting another man, that the very idea of war makes him suffer. Where is he, this man? I have not met him. – page 23
Original short review 8/27/2017:
Review to come when I can think clearly/it's not after midnight. This speech was something else, and there are so many connections I can draw to my own reading experiences/what I've learned about war from reading. For now, I'll just leave with this quote:
Tout de suite après la guerre, Theodor Adorno, bouleversé, a dit : « Écrire un poème après Auschwitz est barbare. » […] Ici, on n’a pas le droit d’inventer. Il faut montrer la vérité telle qu’elle est. On a besoin d’une littérature qui soit au-delà de la littérature. C’est le témoin qui doit parler. On peut aussi songer à Nietzsche qui disait que pas un seul artiste ne peut supporter la réalité. Ne peut la soulever. – page 13
Right after the war, Theodor Adorno, overwhelmed, said, "To write a poem after Auschwitz is barbaric." [...] Here, we don't have the right to invent. One must show reality as it is. We need a literature which is above and beyond literature. It's the eyewitness who must speak. We can also think of Nietzsche who said that not a single artist is capable of holding up reality. Is not capable of raise it up. -- page 13
All translations into English, as usual, are my own. -
"كتابة النثر عن كوابيس القرن العشرين يعد دنسًا. لا يمكن اختراع شيء. يجب أن تقدم الحقيقة كم هي. لا بد من أدب استثنائي. وكما قال نيتشه: لا يمكن لفنان أن يكون على مستوى الواقع. لن يستطيع حمله."
أدب هذه السيدة استثنائي.. -
"I’m writing a book about the war… Why about the war?
Because we are people of war – we have always been at war or
been preparing for war. If one looks closely, we all think in terms
of war. At home, on the street. That’s why human life is so cheap
in this country. Everything is wartime."
"I will take the liberty of saying that we missed the chance
we had in the 1990s. The question was posed: what kind of
country should we have? A strong country, or a worthy one
where people can live decently? We chose the former – a strong
country. Once again we are living in an era of power. Russians
are fighting Ukrainians. Their brothers. My father is Belarusian,
my mother, Ukrainian. That’s the way it is for many people.
Russian planes are bombing Syria…"
"A time full of hope has been replaced by a time of fear. The
era has turned around and headed back in time. The time we live
in now is second-hand…"
"I have three homes: my Belarusian land, the homeland of
my father, where I have lived my whole life; Ukraine, the
homeland of my mother, where I was born; and Russia’s great
culture, without which I cannot imagine myself. All are very dear
to me. But in this day and age it is difficult to talk about love!"
I love this great woman, I love everything she wrote and I will read everything she will write..
I can't tell how much I appreciate this literary genre! -
I don't remember how and when I stumbled onto Svetlana Alexievich, all I knew was that I had to read something of hers. After 'The Unwomanly Face Of War', I went onto her Nobel lecture, 'On the Battle Lost'. No other author has moved me, appalled me, shook me the way Alexievich has.
I think it's absolutely imperative for humanity to read her works. I also know how hard that can be.
So if you're anything like me, do yourself a favor and at least read 'On the Battle Lost'. You'll find yourself unable to stop after that, anyway. I know I will. -
Poderoso, como todo lo que escribe esta mujer.
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Un discurso muy sentimental, escrito desde su forma de escribir: con el testimonio.
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Svetlana da vida y reconocimiento a los testimonios en sus libros, es la voz de aquellas voces que habían callado. Su trabajo es excepcionalmente interesante.
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“Flaubert called himself a human pen; I would say that I am a human ear.”
A brief, harrowing Nobel address by Alexievich that feels true to / representative of her broader work. A good chunk of the speech, like the majority of her written works, is simply bare, transfixing, revelatory transcriptions of what average people have told her in interviews. Alexievich describes her work as “documentary literature,” and it — including this speech — is every bit that. Yet where she writes for herself, she also shines: “I collect the everyday life of feelings, thoughts and words. I collect the life of my time,” she writes. “I’m interested in little people.”
Alexievich’s lifelong project of capturing the oral histories of Soviet peoples (“homo sovieticus”) by interviewing countless regular people ignored by history builds an essential and specific historical record, but by form it doubles a global challenge to the conventions of historical writing and understanding. Alexievich is one of my favorite writers, and this brief glimpse into her process gets at the heart of why that is so. -
¨Me gustaría escribir un libro sobre un hombre que no dispara, un hombre incapaz de disparar a otro ser humano, un hombre a quien el mero pensamiento de la guerra causara dolor. ¿Dónde está ese hombre? No lo he encontrado.¨
¡Qué discurso! Me hizo temblar, estremecerme, me dolió. Todo lo que esta mujer ha visto, todo lo que ha oído... ¿Cómo lo puede soportar? ¿Cómo podemos nosotros soportar, causar tanto sufrimiento gratuito? Las ciudades se construyen sobre sangre, los monumentos se erigen en llanto, la vida se hinca en agonía. En los tiempos que corren es difícil hablar de amor. Muy difícil. -
Mi azzardo a dire che negli anni Novanta ce la siamo giocata, l’occasione che ci veniva offerta. Alla domanda: «Vogliamo essere un paese forte o un paese degno, in cui si viva bene?», abbiamo scelto la prima opzione: vogliamo essere un paese forte. Siamo tornati al tempo della forza.
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Brutal. Genial. ¡Qué grande es Alexiévich!
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I don’t want to forget this.
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Cada cosa que leo de Svetlana me deja sin palabras. Me encanta 🥺💙.
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“Il tempo della speranza è stato scalzato dal tempo della paura”
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Ho scoperto questi piccoli libri di Adelphi, si chiamano Microgrammi 18, sono piccoli e densissimi. Ne regalerò alcuni per Natale, perfetti per i viaggi.
Questo della premio Nobel Svetlana Aleksievič parla soprattutto di guerra e di donne e delle voci della gente normale: cosa pensa la gente normale delle grandi idee?
In così poco spazio, si sentono le parole, le frasi e le esclamazioni che l’autrice sente per strada e capta, per portarle nei suoi racconti. Quanti romanzi scompaiono senza lasciare traccia, si chiede lei. Ma Aleksievič riesce a tenere traccia perfettamente di questo grande discorso corale. Per condannare la guerra con la precisione di chi ne è testimone involontario. -
I do not really have anything to say, except perhaps that the path and means Svetlana Alexievich set upon so many years prior is something the human memory should be eternally grateful.
