Irène Némirovsky


Born
in Kiev, Ukraine
February 11, 1903

Died
August 17, 1942

Genre


Irène Némirovsky (born February 11, 1903, Kiev, died August 17, 1942, Auschwitz, German Occupied Poland) was a Jewish novelist and biographer born in the Ukraine, who lived and worked in France.


Average rating: 3.8 · 72,352 ratings · 8,613 reviews · 82 distinct worksSimilar authors
Suite Française

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3.83 avg rating — 53,664 ratings — published 2004 — 170 editions
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Fire in the Blood

3.80 avg rating — 3,880 ratings — published 2007 — 48 editions
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El baile

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3.61 avg rating — 3,268 ratings — published 1930 — 62 editions
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All Our Worldly Goods

3.88 avg rating — 1,645 ratings — published 1947 — 9 editions
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David Golder

3.64 avg rating — 1,240 ratings — published 1929 — 50 editions
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Jezebel

3.74 avg rating — 1,158 ratings — published 1936 — 44 editions
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The Wine of Solitude

3.53 avg rating — 1,104 ratings — published 1935 — 12 editions
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Dimanche and Other Stories

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3.89 avg rating — 606 ratings — published 1941 — 20 editions
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The Dogs and the Wolves

3.77 avg rating — 898 ratings — published 1940 — 30 editions
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Le Bal & Snow in Autumn

3.66 avg rating — 560 ratings — published 1931 — 6 editions
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More books by Irène Némirovsky…
“Waiting is erotic”
irene nemirovsky, Suite Française

“Deep within everyone's heart there always remains a sense of longing for that hour, that summer, that one brief moment of blossoming. For several weeks or months, rarely longer, a beautiful young woman lives outside ordinary life. She is intoxicated. She feels as if she exists beyond time, beyond its laws; she experiences not the monotonous succession of days passing by, but moments of intense, almost desperate happiness.”
Irene Nemirovsky, Jezebel

“Adieu," he said, "this is goodbye. I'll never forget you, never."
She stood silent. He looked at her and saw her eyes full of tears. He turned away.
At this moment she wasn't ashamed of loving him, because her physical desire had gone and all she felt towards him now was pity and a profound, almost maternal tenderness. She forced herself to smile. "Like the Chinese mother who sent her son off to war telling him to be careful 'because war has its dangers,' I'm asking you, if you have any feelings for me, to be as careful as possible with your life."
Because it is precious to you?" he asked nervously.
Yes. Because it is precious to me.”
Irene Nemirovsky, Suite Francaise
tags: love

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