The last chapter, Theses on the Philosophy of History was simply short and intriguing, leaving the reader (or me) reveling in the prose-which I had said before was German-boring (Deutschlangweilig). He was referring to movies and film-but what about the TV remote or the mouse? Creepy how he saw into the future like that. The last two chapters, The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction was scary-this book was published in 1955, the essays all written sometime before 1940, and Benjamin quotes a guy (can't remember who) saying that the day will come when one can sit in his or own home and with a flick of his or her wrist, watch various images. Mostly, the book contains literary criticisms. Definitely not one I'd recommend for a straight-read through.Įach chapter though, is an individual essay. Then, add the English translation on top of it. German writers are already dry to begin with. I had a really hard time deciding where to rate this book. It is the first work of Arendt's that I have bothered to read, but once again, a previously absent interest has been kindled, as I find she writes with equal authority and tenderness on the matters of literature, politics, biography, and history relevant to Benjamin's life and work. The introduction itself I left until last, undecided as to whether I would read it until the last page of the Theses on the Philosophy of History. It is evident how much of this effect is owed to Kafka, both from Benjamin's own comments on that author and from the close attention paid to their relationship in Arendt's introduction. Throughout the pieces Benjamin moves across dense, even miserable subjects with due solemnity, but also with a humour so light as to make his touch feel weightless. I knew I enjoyed Benjamin's style, but what I didn't expect was that even the pieces on subjects in which I had little prior interest (Epic Theatre, Baudelaire) would turn out to be entirely riveting, and indeed to kindle in me a fierce fascination with those subjects. Still others (The Storyteller, Proust) had long been on my list of subjects to investigate, thus more or less justifying a full read of the collection. I've taken a long time to get around to reading this collection in full, having read a couple of the pieces (Work of Art, Philosophy of History) some years ago and snippets of others (Unpacking My Library, Kafka) more recently.
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