The Human Stain et plus d'un million d'autres livres sont disponibles pour le Kindle d'Amazon. En savoir plus


ou
Identifiez-vous pour activer la commande 1-Click.
ou
en essayant gratuitement Amazon Premium pendant 30 jours. Votre inscription aura lieu lors du passage de la commande. En savoir plus.
Plus de choix
Vous l'avez déjà ? Vendez votre exemplaire ici
Désolé, cet article n'est pas disponible en
Image non disponible pour la
couleur :
Image non disponible

 
Commencez à lire The Human Stain sur votre Kindle en moins d'une minute.

Vous n'avez pas encore de Kindle ? Achetez-le ici ou téléchargez une application de lecture gratuite.

The Human Stain [Anglais] [Broché]

Philip Roth
3.1 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (8 commentaires client)
Prix : EUR 10,66 Livraison à EUR 0,01 En savoir plus.
  Tous les prix incluent la TVA
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Il ne reste plus que 9 exemplaire(s) en stock (d'autres exemplaires sont en cours d'acheminement).
Expédié et vendu par Amazon. Emballage cadeau disponible.
Voulez-vous le faire livrer le vendredi 22 août ? Choisissez la livraison en 1 jour ouvré sur votre bon de commande. En savoir plus.

Offres spéciales et liens associés


Produits fréquemment achetés ensemble

The Human Stain + American Pastoral
Acheter les articles sélectionnés ensemble
  • American Pastoral EUR 11,84


Descriptions du produit

Extrait

Everyone Knows

It was in the summer of 1998 that my neighbor Coleman Silk--who, before retiring two years earlier, had been a classics professor at nearby Athena College for some twenty-odd years as well as serving for sixteen more as the dean of faculty--confided to me that, at the age of seventy-one, he was having an affair with a thirty-four-year-old cleaning woman who worked down at the college. Twice a week she also cleaned the rural post office, a small gray clapboard shack that looked as if it might have sheltered an Okie family from the winds of the Dust Bowl back in the 1930s and that, sitting alone and forlorn across from the gas station and the general store, flies its American flag at the junction of the two roads that mark the commercial center of this mountainside town.

Coleman had first seen the woman mopping the post office floor when he went around late one day, a few minutes before closing time, to get his mail--a thin, tall, angular woman with graying blond hair yanked back into a ponytail and the kind of severely sculpted features customarily associated with the church-ruled, hardworking goodwives who suffered through New England's harsh beginnings, stern colonial women locked up within the reigning morality and obedient to it. Her name was Faunia Farley, and whatever miseries she endured she kept concealed behind one of those inexpressive bone faces that hide nothing and bespeak an immense loneliness. Faunia lived in a room at a local dairy farm where she helped with the milking in order to pay her rent. She'd had two years of high school education.

The summer that Coleman took me into his confidence about Faunia Farley and their secret was the summer, fittingly enough, that Bill Clinton's secret emerged in every last mortifying detail--every last lifelike detail, the livingness, like the mortification, exuded by the pungency of the specific data. We hadn't had a season like it since somebody stumbled upon the new Miss America nude in an old issue of Penthouse, pictures of her elegantly posed on her knees and on her back that forced the shamed young woman to relinquish her crown and go on to become a huge pop star. Ninety-eight in New England was a summer of exquisite warmth and sunshine, in baseball a summer of mythical battle between a home-run god who was white and a home-run god who was brown, and in America the summer of an enormous piety binge, a purity binge, when terrorism--which had replaced communism as the prevailing threat to the country's security--was succeeded by cocksucking, and a virile, youthful middle-aged president and a brash, smitten twenty-one-year-old employee carrying on in the Oval Office like two teenage kids in a parking lot revived America's oldest communal passion, historically perhaps its most treacherous and subversive pleasure: the ecstasy of sanctimony. In the Congress, in the press, and on the networks, the righteous grandstanding creeps, crazy to blame, deplore, and punish, were everywhere out moralizing to beat the band: all of them in a calculated frenzy with what Hawthorne (who, in the 1860s, lived not many miles from my door) identified in the incipient country of long ago as "the persecuting spirit"; all of them eager to enact the astringent rituals of purification that would excise the erection from the executive branch, thereby making things cozy and safe enough for Senator Lieberman's ten-year-old daughter to watch TV with her embarrassed daddy again. No, if you haven't lived through 1998, you don't know what sanctimony is. The syndicated conservative newspaper columnist William F. Buckley wrote, "When Abelard did it, it was possible to prevent its happening again," insinuating that the president's malfeasance--what Buckley elsewhere called Clinton's "incontinent carnality"--might best be remedied with nothing so bloodless as impeachment but, rather, by the twelfth-century punishment meted out to Canon Abelard by the knife-wielding associates of Abelard's ecclesiastical colleague, Canon Fulbert, for Abelard's secret seduction of and marriage to Fulbert's niece, the virgin Heloise. Unlike Khomeini's fatwa condemning to death Salman Rushdie, Buckley's wistful longing for the corrective retribution of castration carried with it no financial incentive for any prospective perpetrator. It was prompted by a spirit no less exacting than the ayatollah's, however, and in behalf of no less exalted ideals.

It was the summer in America when the nausea returned, when the joking didn't stop, when the speculation and the theorizing and the hyperbole didn't stop, when the moral obligation to explain to one's children about adult life was abrogated in favor of maintaining in them every illusion about adult life, when the smallness of people was simply crushing, when some kind of demon had been unleashed in the nation and, on both sides, people wondered "Why are we so crazy?" when men and women alike, upon awakening in the morning, discovered that during the night, in a state of sleep that transported them beyond envy or loathing, they had dreamed of the brazenness of Bill Clinton. I myself dreamed of a mammoth banner, draped dadaistically like a Christo wrapping from one end of the White House to the other and bearing the legend A HUMAN BEING LIVES HERE. It was the summer when--for the billionth time--the jumble, the mayhem, the mess proved itself more subtle than this one's ideology and that one's morality. It was the summer when a president's penis was on everyone's mind, and life, in all its shameless impurity, once again confounded America.


Sometimes on a Saturday, Coleman Silk would give me a ring and invite me to drive over from my side of the mountain after dinner to listen to music, or to play, for a penny a point, a little gin rummy, or to sit in his living room for a couple of hours and sip some cognac and help him get through what was always for him the worst night of the week. By the summer of 1998, he had been alone up here--alone in the large old white clapboard house where he'd raised four children with his wife, Iris--for close to two years, ever since Iris suffered a stroke and died overnight while he was in the midst of battling with the college over a charge of racism brought against him by two students in one of his classes.

Coleman had by then been at Athena almost all his academic life, an outgoing, sharp-witted, forcefully smooth big-city charmer, something of a warrior, something of an operator, hardly the prototypical pedantic professor of Latin and Greek (as witness the Conversational Greek and Latin Club that he started, heretically, as a young instructor). His venerable survey course in ancient Greek literature in translation--known as GHM, for Gods, Heroes, and Myth--was popular with students precisely because of everything direct, frank, and unacademically forceful in his comportment. "You know how European literature begins?" he'd ask, after having taken the roll at the first class meeting. "With a quarrel. All of European literature springs from a fight." And then he picked up his copy of The Iliad and read to the class the opening lines. "'Divine Muse, sing of the ruinous wrath of Achilles . . . Begin where they first quarreled, Agamemnon the King of men, and great Achilles.' And what are they quarreling about, these two violent, mighty souls? It's as basic as a barroom brawl. They are quarreling over a woman. A girl, really. A girl stolen from her father. A girl abducted in a war. Mia kouri-that is how she is described in the poem. Mia, as in modern Greek, is the indefinite article 'a'; kouri, or girl, evolves in modern Greek into kori, meaning daughter. Now, Agamemnon much prefers this girl to his wife, Clytemnestra. 'Clytemnestra is not as good as she is,' he says, 'neither in face nor in figure.' That puts directly enough, does it not, why he doesn't want to give her up? When Achilles demands that Agamemnon return the girl to her father in order to assuage Apollo, the god who is murderously angry about the circumstances surrounding her abduction, Agamemnon refuses: he'll agree only if Achilles gives him his girl in exchange. Thus reigniting Achilles. Adrenal Achilles: the most highly flammable of explosive wildmen any writer has ever enjoyed portraying; especially where his prestige and his appetite are concerned, the most hypersensitive killing machine in the history of warfare. Celebrated Achilles: alienated and estranged by a slight to his honor. Great heroic Achilles, who, through the strength of his rage at an insult--the insult of not getting the girl--isolates himself, positions himself defiantly outside the very society whose glorious protector he is and whose need of him is enormous. A quarrel, then, a brutal quarrel over a young girl and her young body and the delights of sexual rapacity: there, for better or worse, in this offense against the phallic entitlement, the phallic dignity, of a powerhouse of a warrior prince, is how the great imaginative literature of Europe begins, and that is why, close to three thousand years later, we are going to begin there today . . ."

Coleman was one of a handful of Jews on the Athena faculty when he was hired and perhaps among the first of the Jews permitted to teach in a classics department anywhere in America; a few years earlier, Athena's solitary Jew had been E. I. Lonoff, the all-but-forgotten short story writer whom, back when I was myself a newly published apprentice in trouble and eagerly seeking the validation of a master, I had once paid a memorable visit to here. Through the eighties and into the nineties, Coleman was also the first and only Jew ever to serve at Athena as dean of faculty; then, in 1995, after retiring as dean in order to round out his career back in the classroom, he resumed teaching two of his courses under the aegis of the combined languages and literature program that had absorbed the Classics Department and that was run by Professor Delphine Roux. As dean, and with the full support of an ambitious new president, Coleman h... --Ce texte fait référence à l'édition Broché .

Revue de presse

"The Human Stain pulses with the strengths that make Roth a prime contender for the status of the most impressive novelist now writing in and about America" (Sunday Times)

"One of his very best... There are passages of such sustained brilliance here that I found myself going over them again and again in gaping disbelief. An extraordinary book - bursting with rage, humming with ideas, full of dazzling sleights of hand" (Sunday Telegraph)

"The Human Stain is a novel so furious in its telling, with a plot so intricate in its construction that it is infused with a kind of diabolic joy. A masterpiece" (Mail on Sunday)

"One of the most beautiful books I've ever read" (Red)

Détails sur le produit

  • Broché: 384 pages
  • Editeur : Vintage; Édition : New Ed (5 avril 2001)
  • Langue : Anglais
  • ISBN-10: 0099282194
  • ISBN-13: 978-0099282198
  • Dimensions du produit: 2,5 x 13 x 19,6 cm
  • Moyenne des commentaires client : 3.1 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (8 commentaires client)
  • Classement des meilleures ventes d'Amazon: 483 en Livres anglais et étrangers (Voir les 100 premiers en Livres anglais et étrangers)
  •  Souhaitez-vous compléter ou améliorer les informations sur ce produit ? Ou faire modifier les images?


En savoir plus sur l'auteur

Découvrez des livres, informez-vous sur les écrivains, lisez des blogs d'auteurs et bien plus encore.

Dans ce livre (En savoir plus)
Parcourir les pages échantillon
Couverture | Copyright | Extrait | Quatrième de couverture
Rechercher dans ce livre:

Quels sont les autres articles que les clients achètent après avoir regardé cet article?


Commentaires en ligne 

Commentaires client les plus utiles
20 internautes sur 20 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Magistral ! Lisez-le ! 19 septembre 2002
Format:Broché
Peinture de l'Amérique par Philip Roth !
dans ce roman phénoménal, l'auteur dénonce les dérives du politiquement correct, fustige le racisme, met à l'index l'hypocrisie et les réflexes grégaires, le goût du pouvoir, les stigmates de la guerre du Vietnam,.... une attaque en règle menée par Roth dans un roman qui se déguste mais saisit aussi le lecteur par sa profondeur pour le faire réfléchir, penser....Tout cela à partir de l'histoire d'un professeur qui décide de remettre sa démission à la suite d'un "incident" : une parole, des termes employés aux conséquences fâcheuses. Stop. Les personnages sont denses et le lecteur plonge dans l'univers que Roth nous offre. C'est un masterpiece,un real page turner, un must read, bref, tout ce qu'on veut ! Lisez-le....et en anglais (même s'il vient de paraître en français) si possible, car le style est aussi d'une fluidité magnifique.
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
5 internautes sur 8 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Brilliant 28 mai 2002
Format:Broché
"The Human Stain" is the first of Roth's novels I have read. But I swear I would count it to the best American novels there are (equalled only by the best works of Bellow, Salinger and - though not quite a usual comparison - Capote).
Roths unique ability of presenting moving stories and moving characters makes this novel a sit-thru. I just cannot get enough of certain scenes and the tragedy of the main character truly can make you be close to tears.
I can only recommend this book for it's really a masterpiece.
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
9 internautes sur 15 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
3.0 étoiles sur 5 réglement de compte à Athena , 30 octobre 2002
Format:Broché
Philip Roth est un grand écrivain, il a du métier mais ce n'est pas un de ses meilleurs romans, le sujet est intéréssant mais traité avec beaucoup de longueurs et sans humour ,ce qui nous change hélas ! les problèmes de ségrégation, d'assimilation ne s'y prètent guère .Je regrette d'être aussi dur mais avec les grands on peut se le permettre il s'en remettra, alors à la prochaine !
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
0 internautes sur 2 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
4.0 étoiles sur 5 The Human Stain 7 février 2012
Par mister
Format:Broché
Produit correspondant à la description. Bon état général même si à certaines pages il y a des annotations qui n'étaient pas précisées dans la description.
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
Vous voulez voir plus de commentaires sur cet article ?
Ces commentaires ont-ils été utiles ?   Dites-le-nous

Discussions entre clients

Le forum concernant ce produit
Discussion Réponses Message le plus récent
Pas de discussions pour l'instant

Posez des questions, partagez votre opinion, gagnez en compréhension
Démarrer une nouvelle discussion
Thème:
Première publication:
Aller s'identifier
 

Rechercher parmi les discussions des clients
Rechercher dans toutes les discussions Amazon
   


Rechercher des articles similaires par rubrique


Commentaires

Souhaitez-vous compléter ou améliorer les informations sur ce produit ? Ou faire modifier les images?