Islanders And, The Fisher Of Men

Islanders And The Fisher Of Men None

  • Title: Islanders And, The Fisher Of Men
  • Author: Yevgeny Zamyatin
  • ISBN: 9780006541417
  • Page: 460
  • Format: Paperback
  • Islanders And, The Fisher Of Men


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      Posted by:Yevgeny Zamyatin
      Published :2020-06-18T23:12:28+00:00

    One thought on “Islanders And, The Fisher Of Men

    1. Nate D

      Zamyatin's cynical warmth and bleakly sardonic view of humanity is here turned upon the England in which he resided for some time during WWI, foreign lands which (as others have noted) became the model for homogenized dystopian society in his later warnings about Russia's post-Revolution path. Here, respectable faces without the least variation uphold propriety while nudging tragic events onto courses they will then placidly condemn. Strange how many engaging characterizations turn up amid the d [...]

    2. Shawn

      Yevgeny Zamyatin seems most famous for writing We, the first dystopian science-fiction novel about a future world where machines run everything. But before he wrote that, he wrote (among other things) these two pieces: a novella and a short story. A detail and a character from the first presage WE, while the second piece seems like it was considered as a possible ending for the novella.What you have here is Zamyatin's rather wry take on the British People of the time (c. 1916) from observations [...]

    3. David

      Anyone who knows the Newcastle suburb of Jesmond might be surprised to learn that it unwittingly became the archetypal Dystopia of 20th century fiction. But it can lay claim to be the stepfather of Orwell's Airstrip One, or at least the 'funny uncle' of the World State in Brave New World. This is because Jesmond was, for a short while during the First World War, the residence of the Russian author Yevgeny Zamyatin. And he hated it. He loathed the respectable gents going off to work in the city i [...]

    4. Li'l Vishnu

      Down below, everything was becoming furred, everything was growing over with a violet evening coat: trees, people. Under the heavy fur coats of the bushes, gentle, hairy animals were breathing quickly and whispering. Mr Craggs, furry and inaudible, snuffled about the park like an enormous rat out of a dream. There was a flash of blades—the blades of his eyes on his furry snout. They had opened as night fell. Mr Craggs was panting. The raspberry umbrella was nowhere to be seen.— p. 87, “The [...]

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