2025, ISBN: 9780981868080
Paperback, Hardcover
ISBN: 9780140450200Penguin Books Ltd, 29 October 1987Soft cover, 320 pagesOne of Bernard Shaws most glittering comedies, Arms and the Man is a burlesque of Victorian attitudes to heroism,… More...
ISBN: 9780140450200Penguin Books Ltd, 29 October 1987Soft cover, 320 pagesOne of Bernard Shaws most glittering comedies, Arms and the Man is a burlesque of Victorian attitudes to heroism, war and empire. In the contrast between Bluntschli, the mercenary soldier, and the brave leader, Sergius, the true nature of valour is revealed. Shaw mocks deluded idealism in Candida, when a young poet becomes infatuated with the wife of a Socialist preacher. The Man of Destiny is a witty war of words between Napoleon and a strange lady, while in the exuberant farce You Never Can Tell a divided family is reunited by chance. Although Shaw intended Plays Pleasant to be gentler comedies than those in their companion volume, Plays Unpleasant, their prophetic satire is sharp and provocative., 0, Editions 10/18, 1993. Paperback. D'occasion en bon état - Used in good condition. Reliure (Binding) : Couverture souple - Paperback Langue (Langage) : Livre en Français. - Book in french. Dimensions (size) : 105 x 180 x 19 mm. Poids (weight) : 152 g. Nombre de pages (number of pages) : 270 Description : Présentation en quatrième de couverture -- Poètes, vagabonds, criminels, prêtres fous et vierges folles, c'est toujours sur des individus détraqués que se porte le regard de Tennessee Williams. Non pas, semble-t-il, qu'il ait aucunement le goût du morbide : pour lui, ce ne sont ni des malades ni des monstres, bien au contraire : il leur voue une tendresse plus fraternelle, presque complice. Durant leur vie, les personnages de Tennessee Wiliams incarnent et poussent à l'extrême tous les conflits sociaux, religieux ou sexuels dont ses frères les hommes lui paraissent menacés ; par leur mort, souvent dramatique, ils résolvent toutes les contradictions du monde - ils purifient le monde. -- Traduction (translation) : Présenté et traduit de l'américain par Maurice Pons. Titre original (original title) : One arm, Editions 10/18, 1993, 2.5, London: Oxford University Press : Imperial War Museum, 1974. Soft cover. Near Very Good. Includes Rupert Brooke, Siegfried Sassoon, Edmund Charles Blunden, & more. Illustrated with B&W photos. 31 Pages. 120g, 9 3/4" Tall. No inscriptions. Cover has a small crease at top corner and a few small creases near spine. Size: 8vo - over 7¾ - 9¾" Tall, Oxford University Press : Imperial War Museum, 1974, 3, Barnsley, Yorkshire.: Leo Cooper., 2002. 127pp, photographs & maps.. Paperback. Near Fine.. 8vo - over 7¾" - 9¾" tall., Leo Cooper., 2002, 4, London.: National Portrait Gallery Publications., 1999. 63pp, illustrations. As new.. Hardcover. Near Fine.. 12mo - over 6¾" - 7¾" tall., National Portrait Gallery Publications., 1999, 4, Random House. Good. 155 x 233 x 30mm. Paperback. 2015. 400 pages. Cover worn. Rip in rear cover.<br>SHORTLISTED FOR THE 2015 COSTA NOVEL AWARD A God in Ruins relates the life of Teddy Todd e would-be poet, heroic World War II bomber pilot, husband, father, and grandfather e as he navigates the perils and progres s of the 20th century. For all Teddy endures in battle, his great est challenge will be to face living in a future he never expecte d to have. This gripping, often deliriously funny yet emotional ly devastating book looks at war e that great fall of Man from gr ace e and the effect it has, not only on those who live through i t, but on the lives of the subsequent generations. It is also abo ut the infinite magic of fiction. Those who loved the bestselling Life After Life will recognise Teddy as Ursula Todde(tm)s adored younger brother e but for those who have not read it, A God in R uins stands fully on its own. Few will dispute that it proves o nce again that Kate Atkinson is one of the most exceptional novel ists of our age. ., Random House, 2015, 2.5, Saru, 1990. First edition. SIGNED: Very fine bright stiff wraps with excellent spine and crisp text throughout. Praise from Denise Levertov. Signed and dated by the poet on the half-title page, Saru, 1990, 0, Four time Hugo Award winner Vernor Vinge has taken readers to the depths of space and into the far future in his bestselling novels A Fire Upon the Deep and A Deepness in the Sky. Now, he has written a science-fiction thriller set in a place and time as exciting and strange as any far-future world: San Diego, California, 2025.Robert Gu is a recovering Alzheimer's patient. The world that he remembers was much as we know it today. Now, as he regains his faculties through a cure developed during the years of his near-fatal decline, he discovers that the world has changed and so has his place in it. He was a world-renowned poet. Now he is seventy-five years old, though by a medical miracle he looks much younger, and he's starting over, for the first time unsure of his poetic gifts . Living with his son's family, he has no choice but to learn how to cope with a new information age in which the virtual and the real are a seamless continuum, layers of reality built on digital views seen by a single person or millions, depending on your choice. But the consensus reality of the digital world is available only if, like his thirteen-year-old granddaughter Miri, you know how to wear your wireless access--through nodes designed into smart clothes--and to see the digital context--through smartcontact lenses. With knowledge comes risk. When Robert begins to re-train at Fairmont High, learning with other older people what is second nature to Miri and other teens at school, he unwittingly becomes part of a wide-ranging conspiracy to use technology as a tool for world domination. In a world where every computer chip has Homeland Security built-in, this conspiracy is something that baffles even the most sophisticated security analysts, including Robert's son and daughter-in law, two top people in the U.S. military. And even Miri, in her attempts to protect her grandfather, may be entangled in the plot. As Robert becomes more deeply involved in conspiracy, he is shocked to learn of a radical change planned for the UCSD Geisel Library; all the books there, and worldwide, would cease to physically exist. He and his fellow re-trainees feel compelled to join protests against the change. With forces around the world converging on San Diego, both the conspiracy and the protest climax in a spectacular moment as unique and satisfying as it is unexpected. This is science fiction at its very best, by a master storyteller at his peak., Tor Science Fiction, 2.5, New York: Walker & Co, 2008. First U.S. Edition . Hardcover. Fine/Fine. 8vo - over 7¾ - 9¾" tall. Illustrated with black-and-white photographs. Includes Bibliography and Index., Walker & Co, 2008, 5, Laurel Leaf. Very Good. 4.13 x 0.62 x 6.81 inches. Mass Market Paperback. 2005. 208 pages. <br>A stunning novel of the Holocaust from Newbery Med alist, Jerry Spinelli. And don't miss the author's highly anticip ated new novel, Dead Wednesday! He's a boy called Jew. Gypsy. St opthief. Filthy son of Abraham. He's a boy who lives in the stre ets of Warsaw. He's a boy who steals food for himself, and the ot her orphans. He's a boy who believes in bread, and mothers, and a ngels. He's a boy who wants to be a Nazi, with tall, shiny jackb oots of his own-until the day that suddenly makes him change his mind. And when the trains come to empty the Jews from the ghetto of the damned, he's a boy who realizes it's safest of all to be nobody. Newbery Medalist Jerry Spinelli takes us to one of the m ost devastating settings imaginable-Nazi-occupied Warsaw during W orld War II-and tells a tale of heartbreak, hope, and survival th rough the bright eyes of a young Holocaust orphan. Editorial Rev iews Review An extremely powerful book. Readers will be gripped by this story of a young orphan in Warsaw. -- Boston Herald Jerr y Spinelli has fashioned a novel of beauty out of the ugliness of the Holocaust. It is a superb book, one of the best you will rea d. -- BookPage Stunning. -- Kirkus Reviews, Starred Spinelli c reates a masterful achievement, a war story to be put alongside J . G. Ballard's Empire of the Sun and a literary accompaniement to Roberto Benigni's Life Is Beautiful. -- VOYA An unforgettable n ovel.--Library Media Connection, Starred Part survival adventure , part Holocaust history, [this] novel tells the story through th e eyes of a Polish orphan on the run from the Nazis.--Booklist, S tarred review This is a superb addition to the canon of young ad ult literature.--Jewish Book World Unforgettable. . . a powerful story about one small boy's courage during a horrifying period o f history. A heartbreaking and ultimately hopeful story. -- The M idwest Book Review From the Back Cover He's a boy called Jew. G ypsy. Stopthief. Runt. Happy. Fast. Filthy son of Abraham. He's a boy who lives in the streets of Warsaw. He's a boy who steals f ood for himself and the other orphans. He's a boy who believes in bread, and mothers, and angels. He's a boy who wants to be a Naz i some day, with tall shiny jackboots and a gleaming Eagle hat of his own. Until the day that suddenly makes him change his mind. And when the trains come to empty the Jews from the ghetto of the damned, he's a boy who realizes it's safest of all to be nobody. Newbery Medalist Jerry Spinelli takes us to one of the most dev astating settings imaginable--Nazi-occupied Warsaw of World War I I--and tells a tale of heartbreak, hope, and survival through the bright eyes of a young orphan. From the Hardcover edition. Ab out the Author JERRY SPINELLI is the author of many novels for yo ung readers, including Dead Wednesday, The Warden's Daughter; Sta rgirl; Love, Stargirl; Milkweed; Crash; Wringer; and Maniac Magee , winner of the Newbery Medal; along with Knots in My Yo-Yo Strin g, the autobiography of his childhood. A graduate of Gettysburg C ollege, he lives in Pennsylvania with his wife, poet and author E ileen Spinelli. Excerpt. Reprinted by permission. All rights re served. 1 MEMORY I am running. That's the first thing I rememb er. Running. I carry something, my arm curled around it, hugging it to my chest. Bread, of course. Someone is chasing me. Stop! Th ief! I run. People. Shoulders. Shoes. Stop! Thief! Sometimes it is a dream. Sometimes it is a memory in the middle of the day as I stir iced tea or wait for soup to heat. I never see who is chas ing and calling me. I never stop long enough to eat the bread. Wh en I awaken from dream or memory, my legs are tingling. 2 SUMME R He was dragging me, running. He was much bigger. My feet skimm ed over the ground. Sirens were screaming. His hair was red. We f lew through streets and alleyways. There we thumping noises, like distant thunder. The people we bounced off didn't seem to notice us. The sirens were screaming like babies. At last we plunged in to a dark hole. You're lucky, he said. Soon it won't be ladies c hasing you. It will be Jackboots. Jackboots? I said. You'll see . I wondered who the Jackboots were. Were unfooted boots running along the streets? Okay, he said, hand it over. Hand what over ? I said. He reached into my shirt and pulled out the loaf of br ead. He broke it in half. He shoved one half at me and began to e at the other. You're lucky I didn't kill you, he said. That lady you took this from, I was just getting ready to snatch it for my self. I'm lucky, I said. He burped. You're quick. You took it b efore I even knew what happened. That lady was rich. Did you see the way she was dressed? She'll just buy ten more. I ate my brea d. More thumping sounds in the distance. What is that? I asked h im. Jackboot artillery, he said. What's artillery? Big guns. B oom boom. They're shelling the city. He stared at me. Who are you ? I didn't understand the question. I'm Uri, he said. What's yo ur name. I gave him my name. Stopthief. 3 He took me to meet the others. We were in a stable. The horses were there. Usually t hey would be out on the streets, but they were home now because t he Jackboots were boom-booming the city and it was too dangerous for horses. We sat in a stall near the legs of a sad-faced gray. The horse pooped. Two of the kids got up and went to the next sta ll, another horse. A moment later came the sound of water splashi ng on straw. The two came back. One of them said, I'll take the p oop. Where did you find him? said a boy smoking a cigarette. Do wn by the river, said Uri. He snatched a loaf from a rich lady co ming out of the Bread Box. Another boy said, Why didn't you snat ch it from him? This one was smoking a cigar as long as his face. Uri looked at me. I don't know. He's a runt, someone said. Loo k at him. Stand up, said someone else. I looked at Uri. Uri fli cked his finger. I stood. Go there, someone said. I felt a foot on my back, pushing me toward the horse. See, said the cigar smo ker, he doesn't even come halfway up to the horse's dumper. A vo ice behind me squawked, The horse could dump a new hat on him! E veryone, even Uri, howled with laughter. Explosions went off beyo nd the walls. The boys who were not smoking were eating. In the corner of the stable was a pile as tall as me. There was bread in all shapes and sausages of all lengths and colors and fruits and candies. But only half of it was food. All sorts of other things glittered in the pile. I saw watches and combs and ladies' lipst icks and eyeglasses. I saw the thin flat face of a fox peering ou t. What's his name? said someone. Uri nodded at me. Tell them y our name. Stopthief, I said. Someone crowed, It speaks! Smoke burst from mouths as the boys laughed. One boy did not laugh. He carried a cigarette behind each ear. I think he's cuckoo. Anoth er boy got up and came over to me. He leaned down. He sniffed. He pinched his nose. He smells. He blew smoke into my face. Look, someone called, even the smoke can't stand him. It's turning gree n! They laughed. The smoke blower backed off. So, Stopthief, ar e you a smelly cuckoo? I didn't know what to say. He's stupid, said the unlaughing boy. He'll get us in trouble. He's quick, sa id Uri. And he's little. He's a runt. Runt is good, said Uri. Are you a Jew? said the boy in my face. I don't know, I said. H e kicked my foot. How can you not know? You're a Jew or you're no t a Jew. I shrugged. I told you, he's stupid, said the unlaughe r. He's young, said Uri. He's just a little kid. How old are yo u? said the smoke blower. I don't know, I said. The smoke blowe r threw up his hands. Don't you know anything? He's stupid. He' s a stupid Jew. A smelly stupid Jew. A tiny smelly stupid Jew! More laughter. Each time they laughed, they threw food at each o ther and at the horse. The smoke blower pressed my nose with the tip of his finger. Can you do this? He leaned back until he was facing the ceiling. He puffed on the cigarette until his cheeks, even his eyes, were bulging. His face looked like a balloon. It w as grinning. I was sure he was going to destroy me with his facef ul of smoke, but he didn't. He turned to the horse, lifted its ta il, and blew a stream of silvery smoke at the horse's behind. The horse nickered. Everyone howled. Even the unlaugher. Even me. The pounding in the distance was like my heartbeat after running. He must be a Jew, someone said. What's a Jew? I said. Answer the runt, someone said. Tell him what a Jew is. The unlaugher k icked ground straw at a boy who hadn't spoken. The boy had only o ne arm. That's a Jew. He pointed to himself. This is a Jew. He po inted to the others. That's a Jew. That's a Jew. That's a Jew. He pointed to the horse. That's a Jew. He fell to his knees and scr abbled in the straw near the horse flop. He found something. He h eld it out to me. It was a small brown insect. This is a Jew. Loo k. Look! He startled me. A Jew is an animal. A Jew is a bug. A Je w is less than a bug. He threw the insect into the flop. A Jew is that. Others cheered and clapped. Yeah! Yeah! I'm a horse tur d! I'm a goose turd! A boy pointed at me. He's a Jew all right. Look at him. He's a Jew if I ever saw one. Yeah, he's in for it all right. I looked at the boy who spoke. He was munching on a sausage. What am I in for? I said. He snorted. Strawberry babka. We're all in for it, said someone else. We're in for it good. ., Laurel Leaf, 2005, 3, Village Books Press. Paperback. GOOD. Spine creases, wear to binding and pages from reading. May contain limited notes, underlining or highlighting that does affect the text. Possible ex library copy, will have the markings and stickers associated from the library. Accessories such as CD, codes, toys, may not be included., Village Books Press, 2.5<
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2011, ISBN: 9780981868080
Barnsley, S. Yorkshire, England: Leo Cooper. 1999. First printing. Softcover. Glossy card covers. pp (160). Photos, maps, index. Ink owner name, else fine. Battleground Europe series, On… More...
Barnsley, S. Yorkshire, England: Leo Cooper. 1999. First printing. Softcover. Glossy card covers. pp (160). Photos, maps, index. Ink owner name, else fine. Battleground Europe series, On the Trail of the Poets of the Great War. Note: lighter parcel, any default shipping price may be reduced.; Octavo ., Leo Cooper, 1999, 0, Lincoln, Nebraska: Bison Books - University of Nebraska Press, 1992. (xxvii) 170 pp. Revised Edition in trade paperback format. Lightly rubbed on the corners with a flat uncreased spine; no interior markings. Illustrated with photographs, manuscript pages and drawings. Hemingway never wanted to be widely known as a poet. But his poetry deserves close attention, if only because it is so revealing. Nowhere is his delight in drubbing snobs and overrefined writers more apparent. From Paris in 1922: They sucked us in; King and country, Christ Almighty and the rest. Patriotism, Democracy, Honor - Words and phrases, They either bitched or killed us. The Chapters are: Juvenilia 1912 - 1917; Wanderings 1918 - 1925; A Valentine and Other Offerings 1926 - 1935; and Farewells 1944 - 1956; followed by: Explanatory Notes; Critical Intelligence; Afterword to the Revised Edition; and Acknowledgments. Herein are poems too numerous to list but some of the highlights are: The Opening Game; The Tackle; The Safety Man; The Ship; A Modern Version of Polonius' Advice; The Battle of Copenhagen; Flat Roofs; Bird of Night; Mitrailliatrice; All Armies Are the Same; Shock Troops; Riparto d'Assalto; Montparnasse; Kipling; Stevenson; Robert Graves; The Sport of Kings; The Soul of Spain with McAlmon and Bird the Publishers; To Chink Whose Trade Is Soldiering; To a Trageic Poetess; Lines to Be Read at the Casting of Scott Fitzgerald's Balls into the Sea from Eden Roc; First Poem to Mary in London; Black-Ass Poem After Talking to Pamela Churchill; and many more.. First Printing - First Thus. Soft Cover. Near Fine. 8vo., Bison Books - University of Nebraska Press, 1992, 4, Sattar Bahlulzadeh (Sattar Bahlulzade) Art BookMinistry of Culture and Tourism of the Republic of Azerbaijan - Sattar Bahlulzade's home museum.text is in RussianPaperback6.7 x 8.5 inchesSattar Bahlulzade (1909-1974)Sattar Bahlulzade was known for his unpredictability, but no one anticipated such a volatile reaction to criticism. The occasion was the opening of a new exhibition at the Baku Art Museum. Sattar had submitted one of his paintings-a view of the sea-but the work had been rejected. One of the organizing committee members told him that he had "misinterpreted" nature and that his painting needed more work."You people paint landscapes without even leaving your studios," Sattar shot back. "You just copy from postcards and photographs. I don't think you even know what nature looks like!" Suddenly, he kicked his painting, damaging it, and stomped off.This confrontation, which happened in the 1950s, illustrates Sattar's passion to create art on his own terms. As one of the first Azerbaijani artists to break away from the government-mandated style of Social Realism, he is known for developing his own unique style of painting landscapes. Though he passed away 25 years ago, his 90th Jubilee will be celebrated this year in Baku.Sattar began his professional education at the National Art Institute in Baku (1927-1931). Then he worked with Azim Azimzade at the newspaper called "Communist" for the following two years. In 1933, acting on Azimzade's advice, he went to Moscow to continue his education in the Drawing Department at the Moscow Fine Arts Institute. There he studied in the studio of V.A. Favorsky. During the summer workshops in Crimea, Russian painter Marc Chagall saw some of Sattar's sketches and suggested that he transfer to the Institute's Painting Department. So he did.In 1940, Sattar worked on "Babak's Revolt" as his final project. (Babak refers to the 7th-century figure who is considered a great hero in the region because he led a resistance against the Arabic invasion. Eventually he was captured and executed.) Even though Sattar exhibited this work, he didn't have a chance to defend his diploma because World War II broke out in 1941 and he had to remain in Baku. After the war was over, he received several invitations from Moscow to return to defend his diploma, but he never did. "Does an artist need a diploma to prove his worth?" he asked.Most of Sattar's life and creative activity were spent in Amirjan, a village about half an hour's drive east of Baku near the sea. Like the character of Majnun in the Eastern legend of "Leyli and Majnun," Sattar spent most of his time outdoors in nature, rarely going into the city or seeing his friends and family. Majnun wandered throughout nature because he was lovesick; Sattar was trying to grasp nature's beauty and capture it on canvas. He never married and didn't have much of a personal life, but those who close to him got used to his eccentricities.Though he experimented in various genres of art, his unique talent was landscape painting. At first, he used to paint nature realistically as he had been taught. But soon he developed his own style to express the emotional feeling it invoked in him. This new style was more surreal and cosmic-in fact, some of his paintings are reminiscent of photos of the earth taken from space. Using a combination of pastel colors and bold strokes, he made nature look more colorful and lively, and sometimes even more fantastic, than it did in reality.Sattar's ability to closely observe things enabled him to create subtle, sophisticated renderings of nature. He would gain delight from the bits of beauty that were expressed in stones, trees and flowers-a scene that might seem quite ordinary to other people. He would then transfer his delight onto canvas so that others could enjoy it as well.One such experience gave birth to his painting "The Tears of Kapaz." In 1962, Sattar was traveling with his artist friends Tahir Salahov and Togrul Narimanbeyov. They stopped in Ganja to see Goygol and Kapaz. (Kapaz is a nearby mountain. In the 12th century, a strong earthquake in the region created a cascade of lakes, including Goygol and Maralgol.)Kapaz was very misty the day that they happened to be there and Sattar was quite impatient to see the sun rise behind the mountain. The following morning, he witnessed the sun rising while the moon was still shining down from the other side of the mountain. The scene impressed him so much that after they returned to Baku, he tried to recreate his emotions by painting the scene.Another work, "The Wish of the Land," was inspired by a visit to Lake Jeyranbatan that same year. This lake supplied Baku with fresh water. Rumors were spreading that the lake was drying up, so Sattar decided to go there and have a look for himself. While walking around, he noticed a tiny flower growing out of the dry parched land. He sensed how much the flower was longing for that deserted land to become a flowery meadow. Back in his studio, he painted "The Wish of the Land." The work seems to say, "Where there is water, there must be beauty."As the founder of contemporary Azerbaijani landscape painting, Sattar loved to travel around the country exploring its beauty. Once he remarked, "I don't need to go to Tahiti like Gauguin. Others don't need to either. My inspiration comes from my own country and people."Many of his works depict specific areas of Azerbaijan. For instance, "Bazarduzu Outskirts" features Bazarduzu, the highest point of the Grand Caucasus Mountains. Other examples include "Old Shamakhi" and "Autumn in Nakhchivan." Each one tries to show the tension that exists between humanity and nature. But of all Azerbaijan, Sattar loved his native village Amirjan the most and had no desire to leave it. When he was allocated a two-room apartment in the "House of Painters" in Baku, he gave the apartment to his friend Tahir Salahov.Sattar was known for having several unique traits; one of them was his very long hair. It is said that he cut it only twice during his lifetime. The second time was in 1973, during a serious illness. The first time took place when Azerbaijani sculptor Fuad Abdurrahmanov decided to make a statue of Sattar. The artist suspected that Fuad was more infatuated with his long hair than with his personality, so he showed up in Fuad's studio having cut off his hair. Needless to say, Fuad was quite surprised. Today the white marble statue commemorating Sattar depicts him with short hair. The statue is on display at the National Art Museum.Sattar was also known for his generosity. He often gave his paintings away to people who admired them. Foreigners who came to Azerbaijan who were interested in art would usually visit Sattar's studio. (Though the officials disliked this, they couldn't go against the guests' wishes.) Once an Italian wanted to buy one of his works. Sattar decided to give the work to him instead. The Italian hesitated, "I can't accept such a valuable work without giving anything in return." Sattar answered, "I never give cheap presents." That put an end to the discussion.An exhibition of Sattar's works was held at the Prague National Gallery in 1964. After the exhibition, five of the works were selected for inclusion in the museum's permanent collection. Sattar refused to accept an honorarium for the works, offering them as presents to the Gallery. These stories of his generosity correspond to his simple lifestyle. He was known for not caring about material things like money, clothes or anything but the cheapest of cigarettes.Sattar won many prizes for his art. He received the title of Honored Art Worker of the Republic in 1960 and was named People's Artist in 1963. When he won the State Prize in 1972, however, he refused to accept it. When the prize money arrived at his home in Amirjan, he sent it back.He was upset because his efforts to meet with the Secretary of the Communist Party in Azerbaijan, Heydar Aliyev, had been unsuccessful. Sattar had wanted to tell him about the general problems of artists in Azerbaijan. Only when he threatened to move to Georgia did his friend Tahir Salahov manage to set up the desired meeting. (It would have been considered a scandal if an artist of Sattar's stature had left Azerbaijan.)When Tahir and Sattar arrived at the meeting, the Secretary for Cultural Affairs was there as well. He extended his hand to Sattar, who coldly refused it-a gesture of extraordinary disdain at the time. (The Secretary had been the one who prevented Sattar from being able to meet with Aliyev.) After a productive meeting with Aliyev, Sattar agreed to accept the State Prize money and again exhibit his works in Azerbaijan.In the 1970s, an important exhibition, "The Achievements of Soviet Azerbaijan," was to be held in Baku. One of the Full Members of the Politburo Fyodr Kulakov was to come from Moscow to attend the event. Well-known Azerbaijani artists were commissioned to decorate the hall.The government was supposed to supply the artists with materials to make the banners and coats of arms. Instead of natural silk, the artists were given artificial silk. It was impossible to paint because the colors wouldn't soak into the material. So the decorations looked awful.The day before the opening ceremony, the government officials arrived at the exhibition to give their official approval. Seeing the inferior quality of the decorations, they started blaming the artists, who remained silent for fear of losing their government commissions.Sattar was there among the artists even though he had not been invited to participate. He burst into anger and accused them for keeping silent. He told them that Stalin had killed Husein Javid [an outstanding poet], but Javid was not dead-he still lived in his poems. Sattar knew that even though the people in power still carried out Stalin's aims, they didn't have the power to kill like Stalin had had. Sattar urged the artists to stand up and explain what the real problem was.In 1973, Sattar fell extremely ill with a case of blood poisoning. Even though he received treatment at a hospital in Sabunchu [a district in Baku], he didn't recover. The head doctor of the hospital said that the only other option was for him to be treated in Moscow. But the officials didn't want to cover the financial expenses of such a trip, so Sattar's friends made arrangements to organize the trip for him. Gulmurad, who ran a local teahouse, took him to Moscow where he underwent the operation successfully.When Sattar passed away in 1974, he was not buried in the Avenue of the Honored Ones as might have been expected. Instead, according to his will, he was laid to rest in his native village of Amirjan, next to his mother's grave. The monument on his grave-a statue of Sattar standing and holding two empty picture frames-was made by Omar Eldarov. Today, a bronze bust of Sattar stands in front of the Amirjan Cultural House and a street in Baku takes his name as well.Sattar's legacy includes countless works that have been exhibited all over the world, including personal exhibitions in the U.S., England, Turkey and Russia. He also created around 30 sketch diaries that contain his reflections on life and art.----------------------------------Sattar Bahlulzade (15 December 1909 14 October 1974) was the founder of contemporary Azerbaijani landscape painting.He began his professional education at the National Art Institute in Baku (19271931). In 1933, he went to Moscow to continue his education in the Drawing Department at the Moscow Fine Arts Institute. There he studied in the studio of Vladimir Favorsky. During the summer workshops in Crimea, Russian painter Grigory Shegal saw some of Sattar's sketches and suggested that he transfer to the Institute's Painting Department. So he did.Though he experimented in various genres of art, his unique talent was landscape painting. At first, he used to paint nature realistically as he had been taught. But soon he developed his own style to express the emotional feeling it invoked in him. This new style was more surreal and cosmic. In fact, some of his paintings are reminiscent of photos of the earth taken from space. Using a combination of pastel colors and bold strokes, he made nature look more colorful and lively, and sometimes even more fantastic, than it did in reality.Sattar loved to travel around his country Azerbaijan exploring its beauty. Once he remarked, "I don't need to go to Tahiti like Gauguin. My inspiration comes from my own country and people."Many of his works depict specific areas of Azerbaijan. For instance, "Bazarduzu Outskirts" features Bazarduzu, the highest point of the Grand Caucasus Mountains. Other examples include "Old Shamakhi" and "Autumn in Nakhchivan."Bahlulzade won many prizes for his art. He received the title of Honored Art Worker of the Republic of Azerbaijan in 1960 and was named People's Artist in 1963.In 1973, Sattar fell extremely ill with a case of blood poisoning. When Sattar died in 1974, he was not buried in the Avenue of the Honored Ones as might have been expected. Instead, according to his will, he was laid to rest in his native village of Amirjan (Azerbaijan), next to his mother's grave.Sattar's legacy includes countless works that have been exhibited all over the world, including personal exhibitions in the U.S., England, Turkey and Russia. He also created around 30 sketch diaries that contain his reflections on life and art.Most of his works are exhibited in museums all over Azerbaijan, particularly in the cities like Baku, Ganja and Nakhchivan. Some of his most brilliant works are: Gudialchay valley (1953), Evening above Caspian Sea (1959), Spring of my Native Land (1967)., 2.5, Village Books Press. Very Good. 2011. Paperback. 0981868088 . This book is in very good condition; no remainder marks. It does have some cover shelfwear. Inside pages are clean. ; 152 pages ., Village Books Press, 2011, 3<
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2011, ISBN: 9780981868080
Das BuchLetters to the OneArmed Poetkönnte eine längere Lieferzeit habenSie zahlen eine Versandpauschale für bis zu fünf Bücher Typ:book A story told in poetry and prose woven from the th… More...
Das BuchLetters to the OneArmed Poetkönnte eine längere Lieferzeit habenSie zahlen eine Versandpauschale für bis zu fünf Bücher Typ:book A story told in poetry and prose woven from the threads of chaos and fear the pain of leaving behind those we love and ultimately the power of life the impact one human being has on the rest of the world It's the glory of our gathering of sunrise and coffee ravioli and margaritas whisky and contemplation in the wee hours of the moring the reduction of this world into its basic ingredients the food the drink the comrades Here the epiphany of life is found right before its passing at the glorious feast set upon the table in the beauty of a soul's Last Supper, DE, [SC: 25.00], Neuware, gewerbliches Angebot, 188, [GW: 4955g], Skrill/Moneybookers, PayPal, Banküberweisung, Interntationaler Versand<
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ISBN: 0981868088
A story told in poetry and prose, woven from the threads of chaos and fear, the pain of leaving behind those we love, and ultimately the power of life, the impact one human being has on t… More...
A story told in poetry and prose, woven from the threads of chaos and fear, the pain of leaving behind those we love, and ultimately the power of life, the impact one human being has on the rest of the world. It's the glory of our gathering, of sunrise and coffee, ravioli and margaritas, whisky and contemplation in the wee hours of the moring, the reduction of this world into its basic ingredients, the food, the drink, the comrades. Here, the epiphany of life is found right before its passing ... at the glorious feast set upon the table ... in the beauty of a soul's Last Supper. biographical,biographies,biographies and history,biography and history,memoirs Biographies, Village Books Press<
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ISBN: 9780981868080
A story told in poetry and prose, woven from the threads of chaos and fear, the pain of leaving behind those we love, and ultimately the power of life, the impact one human being has on t… More...
A story told in poetry and prose, woven from the threads of chaos and fear, the pain of leaving behind those we love, and ultimately the power of life, the impact one human being has on the rest of the world. It's the glory of our gathering, of sunrise and coffee, ravioli and margaritas, whisky and contemplation in the wee hours of the moring, the reduction of this world into its basic ingredients, the food, the drink, the comrades. Here, the epiphany of life is found right before its passing ... at the glorious feast set upon the table ... in the beauty of a soul's Last Supper. Media > Book<
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2025, ISBN: 9780981868080
Paperback, Hardcover
ISBN: 9780140450200Penguin Books Ltd, 29 October 1987Soft cover, 320 pagesOne of Bernard Shaws most glittering comedies, Arms and the Man is a burlesque of Victorian attitudes to heroism,… More...
ISBN: 9780140450200Penguin Books Ltd, 29 October 1987Soft cover, 320 pagesOne of Bernard Shaws most glittering comedies, Arms and the Man is a burlesque of Victorian attitudes to heroism, war and empire. In the contrast between Bluntschli, the mercenary soldier, and the brave leader, Sergius, the true nature of valour is revealed. Shaw mocks deluded idealism in Candida, when a young poet becomes infatuated with the wife of a Socialist preacher. The Man of Destiny is a witty war of words between Napoleon and a strange lady, while in the exuberant farce You Never Can Tell a divided family is reunited by chance. Although Shaw intended Plays Pleasant to be gentler comedies than those in their companion volume, Plays Unpleasant, their prophetic satire is sharp and provocative., 0, Editions 10/18, 1993. Paperback. D'occasion en bon état - Used in good condition. Reliure (Binding) : Couverture souple - Paperback Langue (Langage) : Livre en Français. - Book in french. Dimensions (size) : 105 x 180 x 19 mm. Poids (weight) : 152 g. Nombre de pages (number of pages) : 270 Description : Présentation en quatrième de couverture -- Poètes, vagabonds, criminels, prêtres fous et vierges folles, c'est toujours sur des individus détraqués que se porte le regard de Tennessee Williams. Non pas, semble-t-il, qu'il ait aucunement le goût du morbide : pour lui, ce ne sont ni des malades ni des monstres, bien au contraire : il leur voue une tendresse plus fraternelle, presque complice. Durant leur vie, les personnages de Tennessee Wiliams incarnent et poussent à l'extrême tous les conflits sociaux, religieux ou sexuels dont ses frères les hommes lui paraissent menacés ; par leur mort, souvent dramatique, ils résolvent toutes les contradictions du monde - ils purifient le monde. -- Traduction (translation) : Présenté et traduit de l'américain par Maurice Pons. Titre original (original title) : One arm, Editions 10/18, 1993, 2.5, London: Oxford University Press : Imperial War Museum, 1974. Soft cover. Near Very Good. Includes Rupert Brooke, Siegfried Sassoon, Edmund Charles Blunden, & more. Illustrated with B&W photos. 31 Pages. 120g, 9 3/4" Tall. No inscriptions. Cover has a small crease at top corner and a few small creases near spine. Size: 8vo - over 7¾ - 9¾" Tall, Oxford University Press : Imperial War Museum, 1974, 3, Barnsley, Yorkshire.: Leo Cooper., 2002. 127pp, photographs & maps.. Paperback. Near Fine.. 8vo - over 7¾" - 9¾" tall., Leo Cooper., 2002, 4, London.: National Portrait Gallery Publications., 1999. 63pp, illustrations. As new.. Hardcover. Near Fine.. 12mo - over 6¾" - 7¾" tall., National Portrait Gallery Publications., 1999, 4, Random House. Good. 155 x 233 x 30mm. Paperback. 2015. 400 pages. Cover worn. Rip in rear cover.<br>SHORTLISTED FOR THE 2015 COSTA NOVEL AWARD A God in Ruins relates the life of Teddy Todd e would-be poet, heroic World War II bomber pilot, husband, father, and grandfather e as he navigates the perils and progres s of the 20th century. For all Teddy endures in battle, his great est challenge will be to face living in a future he never expecte d to have. This gripping, often deliriously funny yet emotional ly devastating book looks at war e that great fall of Man from gr ace e and the effect it has, not only on those who live through i t, but on the lives of the subsequent generations. It is also abo ut the infinite magic of fiction. Those who loved the bestselling Life After Life will recognise Teddy as Ursula Todde(tm)s adored younger brother e but for those who have not read it, A God in R uins stands fully on its own. Few will dispute that it proves o nce again that Kate Atkinson is one of the most exceptional novel ists of our age. ., Random House, 2015, 2.5, Saru, 1990. First edition. SIGNED: Very fine bright stiff wraps with excellent spine and crisp text throughout. Praise from Denise Levertov. Signed and dated by the poet on the half-title page, Saru, 1990, 0, Four time Hugo Award winner Vernor Vinge has taken readers to the depths of space and into the far future in his bestselling novels A Fire Upon the Deep and A Deepness in the Sky. Now, he has written a science-fiction thriller set in a place and time as exciting and strange as any far-future world: San Diego, California, 2025.Robert Gu is a recovering Alzheimer's patient. The world that he remembers was much as we know it today. Now, as he regains his faculties through a cure developed during the years of his near-fatal decline, he discovers that the world has changed and so has his place in it. He was a world-renowned poet. Now he is seventy-five years old, though by a medical miracle he looks much younger, and he's starting over, for the first time unsure of his poetic gifts . Living with his son's family, he has no choice but to learn how to cope with a new information age in which the virtual and the real are a seamless continuum, layers of reality built on digital views seen by a single person or millions, depending on your choice. But the consensus reality of the digital world is available only if, like his thirteen-year-old granddaughter Miri, you know how to wear your wireless access--through nodes designed into smart clothes--and to see the digital context--through smartcontact lenses. With knowledge comes risk. When Robert begins to re-train at Fairmont High, learning with other older people what is second nature to Miri and other teens at school, he unwittingly becomes part of a wide-ranging conspiracy to use technology as a tool for world domination. In a world where every computer chip has Homeland Security built-in, this conspiracy is something that baffles even the most sophisticated security analysts, including Robert's son and daughter-in law, two top people in the U.S. military. And even Miri, in her attempts to protect her grandfather, may be entangled in the plot. As Robert becomes more deeply involved in conspiracy, he is shocked to learn of a radical change planned for the UCSD Geisel Library; all the books there, and worldwide, would cease to physically exist. He and his fellow re-trainees feel compelled to join protests against the change. With forces around the world converging on San Diego, both the conspiracy and the protest climax in a spectacular moment as unique and satisfying as it is unexpected. This is science fiction at its very best, by a master storyteller at his peak., Tor Science Fiction, 2.5, New York: Walker & Co, 2008. First U.S. Edition . Hardcover. Fine/Fine. 8vo - over 7¾ - 9¾" tall. Illustrated with black-and-white photographs. Includes Bibliography and Index., Walker & Co, 2008, 5, Laurel Leaf. Very Good. 4.13 x 0.62 x 6.81 inches. Mass Market Paperback. 2005. 208 pages. <br>A stunning novel of the Holocaust from Newbery Med alist, Jerry Spinelli. And don't miss the author's highly anticip ated new novel, Dead Wednesday! He's a boy called Jew. Gypsy. St opthief. Filthy son of Abraham. He's a boy who lives in the stre ets of Warsaw. He's a boy who steals food for himself, and the ot her orphans. He's a boy who believes in bread, and mothers, and a ngels. He's a boy who wants to be a Nazi, with tall, shiny jackb oots of his own-until the day that suddenly makes him change his mind. And when the trains come to empty the Jews from the ghetto of the damned, he's a boy who realizes it's safest of all to be nobody. Newbery Medalist Jerry Spinelli takes us to one of the m ost devastating settings imaginable-Nazi-occupied Warsaw during W orld War II-and tells a tale of heartbreak, hope, and survival th rough the bright eyes of a young Holocaust orphan. Editorial Rev iews Review An extremely powerful book. Readers will be gripped by this story of a young orphan in Warsaw. -- Boston Herald Jerr y Spinelli has fashioned a novel of beauty out of the ugliness of the Holocaust. It is a superb book, one of the best you will rea d. -- BookPage Stunning. -- Kirkus Reviews, Starred Spinelli c reates a masterful achievement, a war story to be put alongside J . G. Ballard's Empire of the Sun and a literary accompaniement to Roberto Benigni's Life Is Beautiful. -- VOYA An unforgettable n ovel.--Library Media Connection, Starred Part survival adventure , part Holocaust history, [this] novel tells the story through th e eyes of a Polish orphan on the run from the Nazis.--Booklist, S tarred review This is a superb addition to the canon of young ad ult literature.--Jewish Book World Unforgettable. . . a powerful story about one small boy's courage during a horrifying period o f history. A heartbreaking and ultimately hopeful story. -- The M idwest Book Review From the Back Cover He's a boy called Jew. G ypsy. Stopthief. Runt. Happy. Fast. Filthy son of Abraham. He's a boy who lives in the streets of Warsaw. He's a boy who steals f ood for himself and the other orphans. He's a boy who believes in bread, and mothers, and angels. He's a boy who wants to be a Naz i some day, with tall shiny jackboots and a gleaming Eagle hat of his own. Until the day that suddenly makes him change his mind. And when the trains come to empty the Jews from the ghetto of the damned, he's a boy who realizes it's safest of all to be nobody. Newbery Medalist Jerry Spinelli takes us to one of the most dev astating settings imaginable--Nazi-occupied Warsaw of World War I I--and tells a tale of heartbreak, hope, and survival through the bright eyes of a young orphan. From the Hardcover edition. Ab out the Author JERRY SPINELLI is the author of many novels for yo ung readers, including Dead Wednesday, The Warden's Daughter; Sta rgirl; Love, Stargirl; Milkweed; Crash; Wringer; and Maniac Magee , winner of the Newbery Medal; along with Knots in My Yo-Yo Strin g, the autobiography of his childhood. A graduate of Gettysburg C ollege, he lives in Pennsylvania with his wife, poet and author E ileen Spinelli. Excerpt. Reprinted by permission. All rights re served. 1 MEMORY I am running. That's the first thing I rememb er. Running. I carry something, my arm curled around it, hugging it to my chest. Bread, of course. Someone is chasing me. Stop! Th ief! I run. People. Shoulders. Shoes. Stop! Thief! Sometimes it is a dream. Sometimes it is a memory in the middle of the day as I stir iced tea or wait for soup to heat. I never see who is chas ing and calling me. I never stop long enough to eat the bread. Wh en I awaken from dream or memory, my legs are tingling. 2 SUMME R He was dragging me, running. He was much bigger. My feet skimm ed over the ground. Sirens were screaming. His hair was red. We f lew through streets and alleyways. There we thumping noises, like distant thunder. The people we bounced off didn't seem to notice us. The sirens were screaming like babies. At last we plunged in to a dark hole. You're lucky, he said. Soon it won't be ladies c hasing you. It will be Jackboots. Jackboots? I said. You'll see . I wondered who the Jackboots were. Were unfooted boots running along the streets? Okay, he said, hand it over. Hand what over ? I said. He reached into my shirt and pulled out the loaf of br ead. He broke it in half. He shoved one half at me and began to e at the other. You're lucky I didn't kill you, he said. That lady you took this from, I was just getting ready to snatch it for my self. I'm lucky, I said. He burped. You're quick. You took it b efore I even knew what happened. That lady was rich. Did you see the way she was dressed? She'll just buy ten more. I ate my brea d. More thumping sounds in the distance. What is that? I asked h im. Jackboot artillery, he said. What's artillery? Big guns. B oom boom. They're shelling the city. He stared at me. Who are you ? I didn't understand the question. I'm Uri, he said. What's yo ur name. I gave him my name. Stopthief. 3 He took me to meet the others. We were in a stable. The horses were there. Usually t hey would be out on the streets, but they were home now because t he Jackboots were boom-booming the city and it was too dangerous for horses. We sat in a stall near the legs of a sad-faced gray. The horse pooped. Two of the kids got up and went to the next sta ll, another horse. A moment later came the sound of water splashi ng on straw. The two came back. One of them said, I'll take the p oop. Where did you find him? said a boy smoking a cigarette. Do wn by the river, said Uri. He snatched a loaf from a rich lady co ming out of the Bread Box. Another boy said, Why didn't you snat ch it from him? This one was smoking a cigar as long as his face. Uri looked at me. I don't know. He's a runt, someone said. Loo k at him. Stand up, said someone else. I looked at Uri. Uri fli cked his finger. I stood. Go there, someone said. I felt a foot on my back, pushing me toward the horse. See, said the cigar smo ker, he doesn't even come halfway up to the horse's dumper. A vo ice behind me squawked, The horse could dump a new hat on him! E veryone, even Uri, howled with laughter. Explosions went off beyo nd the walls. The boys who were not smoking were eating. In the corner of the stable was a pile as tall as me. There was bread in all shapes and sausages of all lengths and colors and fruits and candies. But only half of it was food. All sorts of other things glittered in the pile. I saw watches and combs and ladies' lipst icks and eyeglasses. I saw the thin flat face of a fox peering ou t. What's his name? said someone. Uri nodded at me. Tell them y our name. Stopthief, I said. Someone crowed, It speaks! Smoke burst from mouths as the boys laughed. One boy did not laugh. He carried a cigarette behind each ear. I think he's cuckoo. Anoth er boy got up and came over to me. He leaned down. He sniffed. He pinched his nose. He smells. He blew smoke into my face. Look, someone called, even the smoke can't stand him. It's turning gree n! They laughed. The smoke blower backed off. So, Stopthief, ar e you a smelly cuckoo? I didn't know what to say. He's stupid, said the unlaughing boy. He'll get us in trouble. He's quick, sa id Uri. And he's little. He's a runt. Runt is good, said Uri. Are you a Jew? said the boy in my face. I don't know, I said. H e kicked my foot. How can you not know? You're a Jew or you're no t a Jew. I shrugged. I told you, he's stupid, said the unlaughe r. He's young, said Uri. He's just a little kid. How old are yo u? said the smoke blower. I don't know, I said. The smoke blowe r threw up his hands. Don't you know anything? He's stupid. He' s a stupid Jew. A smelly stupid Jew. A tiny smelly stupid Jew! More laughter. Each time they laughed, they threw food at each o ther and at the horse. The smoke blower pressed my nose with the tip of his finger. Can you do this? He leaned back until he was facing the ceiling. He puffed on the cigarette until his cheeks, even his eyes, were bulging. His face looked like a balloon. It w as grinning. I was sure he was going to destroy me with his facef ul of smoke, but he didn't. He turned to the horse, lifted its ta il, and blew a stream of silvery smoke at the horse's behind. The horse nickered. Everyone howled. Even the unlaugher. Even me. The pounding in the distance was like my heartbeat after running. He must be a Jew, someone said. What's a Jew? I said. Answer the runt, someone said. Tell him what a Jew is. The unlaugher k icked ground straw at a boy who hadn't spoken. The boy had only o ne arm. That's a Jew. He pointed to himself. This is a Jew. He po inted to the others. That's a Jew. That's a Jew. That's a Jew. He pointed to the horse. That's a Jew. He fell to his knees and scr abbled in the straw near the horse flop. He found something. He h eld it out to me. It was a small brown insect. This is a Jew. Loo k. Look! He startled me. A Jew is an animal. A Jew is a bug. A Je w is less than a bug. He threw the insect into the flop. A Jew is that. Others cheered and clapped. Yeah! Yeah! I'm a horse tur d! I'm a goose turd! A boy pointed at me. He's a Jew all right. Look at him. He's a Jew if I ever saw one. Yeah, he's in for it all right. I looked at the boy who spoke. He was munching on a sausage. What am I in for? I said. He snorted. Strawberry babka. We're all in for it, said someone else. We're in for it good. ., Laurel Leaf, 2005, 3, Village Books Press. Paperback. GOOD. Spine creases, wear to binding and pages from reading. May contain limited notes, underlining or highlighting that does affect the text. Possible ex library copy, will have the markings and stickers associated from the library. Accessories such as CD, codes, toys, may not be included., Village Books Press, 2.5<
2011, ISBN: 9780981868080
Barnsley, S. Yorkshire, England: Leo Cooper. 1999. First printing. Softcover. Glossy card covers. pp (160). Photos, maps, index. Ink owner name, else fine. Battleground Europe series, On… More...
Barnsley, S. Yorkshire, England: Leo Cooper. 1999. First printing. Softcover. Glossy card covers. pp (160). Photos, maps, index. Ink owner name, else fine. Battleground Europe series, On the Trail of the Poets of the Great War. Note: lighter parcel, any default shipping price may be reduced.; Octavo ., Leo Cooper, 1999, 0, Lincoln, Nebraska: Bison Books - University of Nebraska Press, 1992. (xxvii) 170 pp. Revised Edition in trade paperback format. Lightly rubbed on the corners with a flat uncreased spine; no interior markings. Illustrated with photographs, manuscript pages and drawings. Hemingway never wanted to be widely known as a poet. But his poetry deserves close attention, if only because it is so revealing. Nowhere is his delight in drubbing snobs and overrefined writers more apparent. From Paris in 1922: They sucked us in; King and country, Christ Almighty and the rest. Patriotism, Democracy, Honor - Words and phrases, They either bitched or killed us. The Chapters are: Juvenilia 1912 - 1917; Wanderings 1918 - 1925; A Valentine and Other Offerings 1926 - 1935; and Farewells 1944 - 1956; followed by: Explanatory Notes; Critical Intelligence; Afterword to the Revised Edition; and Acknowledgments. Herein are poems too numerous to list but some of the highlights are: The Opening Game; The Tackle; The Safety Man; The Ship; A Modern Version of Polonius' Advice; The Battle of Copenhagen; Flat Roofs; Bird of Night; Mitrailliatrice; All Armies Are the Same; Shock Troops; Riparto d'Assalto; Montparnasse; Kipling; Stevenson; Robert Graves; The Sport of Kings; The Soul of Spain with McAlmon and Bird the Publishers; To Chink Whose Trade Is Soldiering; To a Trageic Poetess; Lines to Be Read at the Casting of Scott Fitzgerald's Balls into the Sea from Eden Roc; First Poem to Mary in London; Black-Ass Poem After Talking to Pamela Churchill; and many more.. First Printing - First Thus. Soft Cover. Near Fine. 8vo., Bison Books - University of Nebraska Press, 1992, 4, Sattar Bahlulzadeh (Sattar Bahlulzade) Art BookMinistry of Culture and Tourism of the Republic of Azerbaijan - Sattar Bahlulzade's home museum.text is in RussianPaperback6.7 x 8.5 inchesSattar Bahlulzade (1909-1974)Sattar Bahlulzade was known for his unpredictability, but no one anticipated such a volatile reaction to criticism. The occasion was the opening of a new exhibition at the Baku Art Museum. Sattar had submitted one of his paintings-a view of the sea-but the work had been rejected. One of the organizing committee members told him that he had "misinterpreted" nature and that his painting needed more work."You people paint landscapes without even leaving your studios," Sattar shot back. "You just copy from postcards and photographs. I don't think you even know what nature looks like!" Suddenly, he kicked his painting, damaging it, and stomped off.This confrontation, which happened in the 1950s, illustrates Sattar's passion to create art on his own terms. As one of the first Azerbaijani artists to break away from the government-mandated style of Social Realism, he is known for developing his own unique style of painting landscapes. Though he passed away 25 years ago, his 90th Jubilee will be celebrated this year in Baku.Sattar began his professional education at the National Art Institute in Baku (1927-1931). Then he worked with Azim Azimzade at the newspaper called "Communist" for the following two years. In 1933, acting on Azimzade's advice, he went to Moscow to continue his education in the Drawing Department at the Moscow Fine Arts Institute. There he studied in the studio of V.A. Favorsky. During the summer workshops in Crimea, Russian painter Marc Chagall saw some of Sattar's sketches and suggested that he transfer to the Institute's Painting Department. So he did.In 1940, Sattar worked on "Babak's Revolt" as his final project. (Babak refers to the 7th-century figure who is considered a great hero in the region because he led a resistance against the Arabic invasion. Eventually he was captured and executed.) Even though Sattar exhibited this work, he didn't have a chance to defend his diploma because World War II broke out in 1941 and he had to remain in Baku. After the war was over, he received several invitations from Moscow to return to defend his diploma, but he never did. "Does an artist need a diploma to prove his worth?" he asked.Most of Sattar's life and creative activity were spent in Amirjan, a village about half an hour's drive east of Baku near the sea. Like the character of Majnun in the Eastern legend of "Leyli and Majnun," Sattar spent most of his time outdoors in nature, rarely going into the city or seeing his friends and family. Majnun wandered throughout nature because he was lovesick; Sattar was trying to grasp nature's beauty and capture it on canvas. He never married and didn't have much of a personal life, but those who close to him got used to his eccentricities.Though he experimented in various genres of art, his unique talent was landscape painting. At first, he used to paint nature realistically as he had been taught. But soon he developed his own style to express the emotional feeling it invoked in him. This new style was more surreal and cosmic-in fact, some of his paintings are reminiscent of photos of the earth taken from space. Using a combination of pastel colors and bold strokes, he made nature look more colorful and lively, and sometimes even more fantastic, than it did in reality.Sattar's ability to closely observe things enabled him to create subtle, sophisticated renderings of nature. He would gain delight from the bits of beauty that were expressed in stones, trees and flowers-a scene that might seem quite ordinary to other people. He would then transfer his delight onto canvas so that others could enjoy it as well.One such experience gave birth to his painting "The Tears of Kapaz." In 1962, Sattar was traveling with his artist friends Tahir Salahov and Togrul Narimanbeyov. They stopped in Ganja to see Goygol and Kapaz. (Kapaz is a nearby mountain. In the 12th century, a strong earthquake in the region created a cascade of lakes, including Goygol and Maralgol.)Kapaz was very misty the day that they happened to be there and Sattar was quite impatient to see the sun rise behind the mountain. The following morning, he witnessed the sun rising while the moon was still shining down from the other side of the mountain. The scene impressed him so much that after they returned to Baku, he tried to recreate his emotions by painting the scene.Another work, "The Wish of the Land," was inspired by a visit to Lake Jeyranbatan that same year. This lake supplied Baku with fresh water. Rumors were spreading that the lake was drying up, so Sattar decided to go there and have a look for himself. While walking around, he noticed a tiny flower growing out of the dry parched land. He sensed how much the flower was longing for that deserted land to become a flowery meadow. Back in his studio, he painted "The Wish of the Land." The work seems to say, "Where there is water, there must be beauty."As the founder of contemporary Azerbaijani landscape painting, Sattar loved to travel around the country exploring its beauty. Once he remarked, "I don't need to go to Tahiti like Gauguin. Others don't need to either. My inspiration comes from my own country and people."Many of his works depict specific areas of Azerbaijan. For instance, "Bazarduzu Outskirts" features Bazarduzu, the highest point of the Grand Caucasus Mountains. Other examples include "Old Shamakhi" and "Autumn in Nakhchivan." Each one tries to show the tension that exists between humanity and nature. But of all Azerbaijan, Sattar loved his native village Amirjan the most and had no desire to leave it. When he was allocated a two-room apartment in the "House of Painters" in Baku, he gave the apartment to his friend Tahir Salahov.Sattar was known for having several unique traits; one of them was his very long hair. It is said that he cut it only twice during his lifetime. The second time was in 1973, during a serious illness. The first time took place when Azerbaijani sculptor Fuad Abdurrahmanov decided to make a statue of Sattar. The artist suspected that Fuad was more infatuated with his long hair than with his personality, so he showed up in Fuad's studio having cut off his hair. Needless to say, Fuad was quite surprised. Today the white marble statue commemorating Sattar depicts him with short hair. The statue is on display at the National Art Museum.Sattar was also known for his generosity. He often gave his paintings away to people who admired them. Foreigners who came to Azerbaijan who were interested in art would usually visit Sattar's studio. (Though the officials disliked this, they couldn't go against the guests' wishes.) Once an Italian wanted to buy one of his works. Sattar decided to give the work to him instead. The Italian hesitated, "I can't accept such a valuable work without giving anything in return." Sattar answered, "I never give cheap presents." That put an end to the discussion.An exhibition of Sattar's works was held at the Prague National Gallery in 1964. After the exhibition, five of the works were selected for inclusion in the museum's permanent collection. Sattar refused to accept an honorarium for the works, offering them as presents to the Gallery. These stories of his generosity correspond to his simple lifestyle. He was known for not caring about material things like money, clothes or anything but the cheapest of cigarettes.Sattar won many prizes for his art. He received the title of Honored Art Worker of the Republic in 1960 and was named People's Artist in 1963. When he won the State Prize in 1972, however, he refused to accept it. When the prize money arrived at his home in Amirjan, he sent it back.He was upset because his efforts to meet with the Secretary of the Communist Party in Azerbaijan, Heydar Aliyev, had been unsuccessful. Sattar had wanted to tell him about the general problems of artists in Azerbaijan. Only when he threatened to move to Georgia did his friend Tahir Salahov manage to set up the desired meeting. (It would have been considered a scandal if an artist of Sattar's stature had left Azerbaijan.)When Tahir and Sattar arrived at the meeting, the Secretary for Cultural Affairs was there as well. He extended his hand to Sattar, who coldly refused it-a gesture of extraordinary disdain at the time. (The Secretary had been the one who prevented Sattar from being able to meet with Aliyev.) After a productive meeting with Aliyev, Sattar agreed to accept the State Prize money and again exhibit his works in Azerbaijan.In the 1970s, an important exhibition, "The Achievements of Soviet Azerbaijan," was to be held in Baku. One of the Full Members of the Politburo Fyodr Kulakov was to come from Moscow to attend the event. Well-known Azerbaijani artists were commissioned to decorate the hall.The government was supposed to supply the artists with materials to make the banners and coats of arms. Instead of natural silk, the artists were given artificial silk. It was impossible to paint because the colors wouldn't soak into the material. So the decorations looked awful.The day before the opening ceremony, the government officials arrived at the exhibition to give their official approval. Seeing the inferior quality of the decorations, they started blaming the artists, who remained silent for fear of losing their government commissions.Sattar was there among the artists even though he had not been invited to participate. He burst into anger and accused them for keeping silent. He told them that Stalin had killed Husein Javid [an outstanding poet], but Javid was not dead-he still lived in his poems. Sattar knew that even though the people in power still carried out Stalin's aims, they didn't have the power to kill like Stalin had had. Sattar urged the artists to stand up and explain what the real problem was.In 1973, Sattar fell extremely ill with a case of blood poisoning. Even though he received treatment at a hospital in Sabunchu [a district in Baku], he didn't recover. The head doctor of the hospital said that the only other option was for him to be treated in Moscow. But the officials didn't want to cover the financial expenses of such a trip, so Sattar's friends made arrangements to organize the trip for him. Gulmurad, who ran a local teahouse, took him to Moscow where he underwent the operation successfully.When Sattar passed away in 1974, he was not buried in the Avenue of the Honored Ones as might have been expected. Instead, according to his will, he was laid to rest in his native village of Amirjan, next to his mother's grave. The monument on his grave-a statue of Sattar standing and holding two empty picture frames-was made by Omar Eldarov. Today, a bronze bust of Sattar stands in front of the Amirjan Cultural House and a street in Baku takes his name as well.Sattar's legacy includes countless works that have been exhibited all over the world, including personal exhibitions in the U.S., England, Turkey and Russia. He also created around 30 sketch diaries that contain his reflections on life and art.----------------------------------Sattar Bahlulzade (15 December 1909 14 October 1974) was the founder of contemporary Azerbaijani landscape painting.He began his professional education at the National Art Institute in Baku (19271931). In 1933, he went to Moscow to continue his education in the Drawing Department at the Moscow Fine Arts Institute. There he studied in the studio of Vladimir Favorsky. During the summer workshops in Crimea, Russian painter Grigory Shegal saw some of Sattar's sketches and suggested that he transfer to the Institute's Painting Department. So he did.Though he experimented in various genres of art, his unique talent was landscape painting. At first, he used to paint nature realistically as he had been taught. But soon he developed his own style to express the emotional feeling it invoked in him. This new style was more surreal and cosmic. In fact, some of his paintings are reminiscent of photos of the earth taken from space. Using a combination of pastel colors and bold strokes, he made nature look more colorful and lively, and sometimes even more fantastic, than it did in reality.Sattar loved to travel around his country Azerbaijan exploring its beauty. Once he remarked, "I don't need to go to Tahiti like Gauguin. My inspiration comes from my own country and people."Many of his works depict specific areas of Azerbaijan. For instance, "Bazarduzu Outskirts" features Bazarduzu, the highest point of the Grand Caucasus Mountains. Other examples include "Old Shamakhi" and "Autumn in Nakhchivan."Bahlulzade won many prizes for his art. He received the title of Honored Art Worker of the Republic of Azerbaijan in 1960 and was named People's Artist in 1963.In 1973, Sattar fell extremely ill with a case of blood poisoning. When Sattar died in 1974, he was not buried in the Avenue of the Honored Ones as might have been expected. Instead, according to his will, he was laid to rest in his native village of Amirjan (Azerbaijan), next to his mother's grave.Sattar's legacy includes countless works that have been exhibited all over the world, including personal exhibitions in the U.S., England, Turkey and Russia. He also created around 30 sketch diaries that contain his reflections on life and art.Most of his works are exhibited in museums all over Azerbaijan, particularly in the cities like Baku, Ganja and Nakhchivan. Some of his most brilliant works are: Gudialchay valley (1953), Evening above Caspian Sea (1959), Spring of my Native Land (1967)., 2.5, Village Books Press. Very Good. 2011. Paperback. 0981868088 . This book is in very good condition; no remainder marks. It does have some cover shelfwear. Inside pages are clean. ; 152 pages ., Village Books Press, 2011, 3<
2011
ISBN: 9780981868080
Das BuchLetters to the OneArmed Poetkönnte eine längere Lieferzeit habenSie zahlen eine Versandpauschale für bis zu fünf Bücher Typ:book A story told in poetry and prose woven from the th… More...
Das BuchLetters to the OneArmed Poetkönnte eine längere Lieferzeit habenSie zahlen eine Versandpauschale für bis zu fünf Bücher Typ:book A story told in poetry and prose woven from the threads of chaos and fear the pain of leaving behind those we love and ultimately the power of life the impact one human being has on the rest of the world It's the glory of our gathering of sunrise and coffee ravioli and margaritas whisky and contemplation in the wee hours of the moring the reduction of this world into its basic ingredients the food the drink the comrades Here the epiphany of life is found right before its passing at the glorious feast set upon the table in the beauty of a soul's Last Supper, DE, [SC: 25.00], Neuware, gewerbliches Angebot, 188, [GW: 4955g], Skrill/Moneybookers, PayPal, Banküberweisung, Interntationaler Versand<
ISBN: 0981868088
A story told in poetry and prose, woven from the threads of chaos and fear, the pain of leaving behind those we love, and ultimately the power of life, the impact one human being has on t… More...
A story told in poetry and prose, woven from the threads of chaos and fear, the pain of leaving behind those we love, and ultimately the power of life, the impact one human being has on the rest of the world. It's the glory of our gathering, of sunrise and coffee, ravioli and margaritas, whisky and contemplation in the wee hours of the moring, the reduction of this world into its basic ingredients, the food, the drink, the comrades. Here, the epiphany of life is found right before its passing ... at the glorious feast set upon the table ... in the beauty of a soul's Last Supper. biographical,biographies,biographies and history,biography and history,memoirs Biographies, Village Books Press<
ISBN: 9780981868080
A story told in poetry and prose, woven from the threads of chaos and fear, the pain of leaving behind those we love, and ultimately the power of life, the impact one human being has on t… More...
A story told in poetry and prose, woven from the threads of chaos and fear, the pain of leaving behind those we love, and ultimately the power of life, the impact one human being has on the rest of the world. It's the glory of our gathering, of sunrise and coffee, ravioli and margaritas, whisky and contemplation in the wee hours of the moring, the reduction of this world into its basic ingredients, the food, the drink, the comrades. Here, the epiphany of life is found right before its passing ... at the glorious feast set upon the table ... in the beauty of a soul's Last Supper. Media > Book<
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Details of the book - Letters to the One-Armed Poet
EAN (ISBN-13): 9780981868080
ISBN (ISBN-10): 0981868088
Hardcover
Paperback
Publishing year: 2011
Publisher: Village Books Press
152 Pages
Weight: 0,200 kg
Language: eng/Englisch
Book in our database since 2012-09-28T10:21:37+01:00 (London)
Detail page last modified on 2022-07-15T06:41:30+01:00 (London)
ISBN/EAN: 9780981868080
ISBN - alternate spelling:
0-9818680-8-8, 978-0-9818680-8-0
Alternate spelling and related search-keywords:
Book author: nathan brown
Book title: one one
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