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Bruno Schulz. El país tenebroso
El país tenebroso ofrece, por primera vez en España, una
cuidada retrospectiva de la obra plástica del escritor y artista
polaco –y judío– Bruno Schulz (Drohobycz, 1892-1942), uno
de los grandes protagonistas de la vanguardia de entreguerras.
La singular poética de estas obras se alimenta de forma
recurrente de los recuerdos de infancia y la visión oscura y
asfixiante de su Drohobycz natal: obsesiones traducidas
en una escenografía de tiendas sombrías, maniquíes,
mujeres anónimas, caminantes con chistera o rabinos, que
encontró plasmación no sólo en su trabajo literario sino también
en dibujos y grabados de rara intensidad y coherencia.
Se recoge, así, una amplia selección de su obra plástica,
como la que integra su famoso El libro idólatra o ilustra sus
narraciones, con especial atención a Las tiendas de color
canela y Sanatorio bajo la Clepsidra, además de abundante
material documental que permite entender el trabajo de
Schulz tanto en el contexto del panorama internacional
europeo de principios del XX como en el más estrecho de
su Polonia natal. Los ensayos de Monika Poliwka, Irena
Kossowska, L- ucasz Kossowski, Serge Fauchereau y Sergio
Sanz completan este acercamiento desde una perspectiva
histórica y contextualizadora que no desdeña el cuerpo
a cuerpo con la materialidad de la obra. El resultado es una
mirada poco menos que exhaustiva de un mundo creador cuya
potencia perturbadora y enigmática no merma con los años.
cuidada retrospectiva de la obra plástica del escritor y artista
polaco –y judío– Bruno Schulz (Drohobycz, 1892-1942), uno
de los grandes protagonistas de la vanguardia de entreguerras.
La singular poética de estas obras se alimenta de forma
recurrente de los recuerdos de infancia y la visión oscura y
asfixiante de su Drohobycz natal: obsesiones traducidas
en una escenografía de tiendas sombrías, maniquíes,
mujeres anónimas, caminantes con chistera o rabinos, que
encontró plasmación no sólo en su trabajo literario sino también
en dibujos y grabados de rara intensidad y coherencia.
Se recoge, así, una amplia selección de su obra plástica,
como la que integra su famoso El libro idólatra o ilustra sus
narraciones, con especial atención a Las tiendas de color
canela y Sanatorio bajo la Clepsidra, además de abundante
material documental que permite entender el trabajo de
Schulz tanto en el contexto del panorama internacional
europeo de principios del XX como en el más estrecho de
su Polonia natal. Los ensayos de Monika Poliwka, Irena
Kossowska, L- ucasz Kossowski, Serge Fauchereau y Sergio
Sanz completan este acercamiento desde una perspectiva
histórica y contextualizadora que no desdeña el cuerpo
a cuerpo con la materialidad de la obra. El resultado es una
mirada poco menos que exhaustiva de un mundo creador cuya
potencia perturbadora y enigmática no merma con los años.
216 pages, Pocket Book
Published January 1, 2007
About the author
Bruno Schulz
126 books764 followersBruno Schulz was a Polish writer, fine artist, literary critic and art teacher of Jewish descent. He was regarded as one of the great Polish-language prose stylists of the 20th century.
At a very early age, Schulz developed an interest in the arts. He studied at a gymnasium in Drohobycz from 1902 to 1910, and proceeded to study architecture at Lwów University. In 1917 he briefly studied architecture in Vienna. After World War I, the region of Galicia which included Drohobycz became a Polish territory. In the postwar period, Schulz came to teach drawing in a Polish gymnasium, from 1924 to 1941. His employment kept him in his hometown, although he disliked his profession as a schoolteacher, apparently maintaining it only because it was his sole means of income.
The author nurtured his extraordinary imagination in a swarm of identities and nationalities: a Jew who thought and wrote in Polish, was fluent in German, and immersed in Jewish culture though unfamiliar with the Yiddish language. Yet there was nothing cosmopolitan about him; his genius fed in solitude on specific local and ethnic sources. He preferred not to leave his provincial hometown, which over the course of his life belonged to four countries. His adult life was often perceived by outsiders as that of a hermit: uneventful and enclosed.
Schulz seems to have become a writer by chance, as he was discouraged by influential colleagues from publishing his first short stories. His aspirations were refreshed, however, when several letters that he wrote to a friend, in which he gave highly original accounts of his solitary life and the details of the lives of his fellow citizens, were brought to the attention of the novelist Zofia Nałkowska. She encouraged Schulz to have them published as short fiction, and The Cinnamon Shops (Sklepy Cynamonowe) was published in 1934; in English-speaking countries, it is most often referred to as The Street of Crocodiles, a title derived from one of the chapters. This novel-memoir was followed three years later by Sanatorium Under the Sign of the Hourglass (Sanatorium Pod Klepsydrą). The original publications were fully illustrated by Schulz himself; in later editions of his works, however, these illustrations are often left out or are poorly reproduced. He also helped his fiancée translate Franz Kafka's The Trial into Polish, in 1936. In 1938, he was awarded the Polish Academy of Literature's prestigious Golden Laurel award.
The outbreak of World War II in 1939 caught Schulz living in Drohobycz, which was occupied by the Soviet Union. There are reports that he worked on a novel called The Messiah, but no trace of this manuscript survived his death. Following the German invasion of the Soviet Union, as a Jew he was forced to live in the ghetto of Drohobycz, but he was temporarily protected by Felix Landau, a Gestapo officer who admired his drawings. During the last weeks of his life, Schulz painted a mural in Landau's home in Drohobycz, in the style with which he is identified. Shortly after completing the work, Schulz was bringing home a loaf of bread when he was shot and killed by a German officer, Karl Günther, a rival of his protector (Landau had killed Günther's "personal Jew," a dentist). Over the years his mural was covered with paint and forgotten.
Source: wikipedia.com
At a very early age, Schulz developed an interest in the arts. He studied at a gymnasium in Drohobycz from 1902 to 1910, and proceeded to study architecture at Lwów University. In 1917 he briefly studied architecture in Vienna. After World War I, the region of Galicia which included Drohobycz became a Polish territory. In the postwar period, Schulz came to teach drawing in a Polish gymnasium, from 1924 to 1941. His employment kept him in his hometown, although he disliked his profession as a schoolteacher, apparently maintaining it only because it was his sole means of income.
The author nurtured his extraordinary imagination in a swarm of identities and nationalities: a Jew who thought and wrote in Polish, was fluent in German, and immersed in Jewish culture though unfamiliar with the Yiddish language. Yet there was nothing cosmopolitan about him; his genius fed in solitude on specific local and ethnic sources. He preferred not to leave his provincial hometown, which over the course of his life belonged to four countries. His adult life was often perceived by outsiders as that of a hermit: uneventful and enclosed.
Schulz seems to have become a writer by chance, as he was discouraged by influential colleagues from publishing his first short stories. His aspirations were refreshed, however, when several letters that he wrote to a friend, in which he gave highly original accounts of his solitary life and the details of the lives of his fellow citizens, were brought to the attention of the novelist Zofia Nałkowska. She encouraged Schulz to have them published as short fiction, and The Cinnamon Shops (Sklepy Cynamonowe) was published in 1934; in English-speaking countries, it is most often referred to as The Street of Crocodiles, a title derived from one of the chapters. This novel-memoir was followed three years later by Sanatorium Under the Sign of the Hourglass (Sanatorium Pod Klepsydrą). The original publications were fully illustrated by Schulz himself; in later editions of his works, however, these illustrations are often left out or are poorly reproduced. He also helped his fiancée translate Franz Kafka's The Trial into Polish, in 1936. In 1938, he was awarded the Polish Academy of Literature's prestigious Golden Laurel award.
The outbreak of World War II in 1939 caught Schulz living in Drohobycz, which was occupied by the Soviet Union. There are reports that he worked on a novel called The Messiah, but no trace of this manuscript survived his death. Following the German invasion of the Soviet Union, as a Jew he was forced to live in the ghetto of Drohobycz, but he was temporarily protected by Felix Landau, a Gestapo officer who admired his drawings. During the last weeks of his life, Schulz painted a mural in Landau's home in Drohobycz, in the style with which he is identified. Shortly after completing the work, Schulz was bringing home a loaf of bread when he was shot and killed by a German officer, Karl Günther, a rival of his protector (Landau had killed Günther's "personal Jew," a dentist). Over the years his mural was covered with paint and forgotten.
Source: wikipedia.com
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