Alfred Kossmann (1922–1998)
Autor von Smell of Sadness
Über den Autor
Werke von Alfred Kossmann
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De hondenplaag 4 Exemplare
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Het vuurwerk : gedichten 2 Exemplare
Apologie der varkens : gedichten 1 Exemplar
De architect 1 Exemplar
Vijftig jaar later : een lezing in Rotterdam 1 Exemplar
Presentexemplaar, prikkels 244 1 Exemplar
Zugehörige Werke
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De Nederlandse poëzie van de negentiende en twintigste eeuw in duizend en enige gedichten (1979) — Mitwirkender, einige Ausgaben — 194 Exemplare
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je leest het zó — Mitwirkender — 2 Exemplare
Getagged
Wissenswertes
- Gebräuchlichste Namensform
- Kossmann, Alfred
- Rechtmäßiger Name
- Kossmann, Alfred Karl
- Geburtstag
- 1922-01-31
- Todestag
- 1998-06-27
- Begräbnisort
- Begraafplaats Zorgvlied, Amsterdam, Noord-Holland, Niederlande
- Geschlecht
- male
- Nationalität
- Niederlande
- Geburtsort
- Leiden, Zuid-Holland, Niederlande
- Sterbeort
- Amsterdam, Noord-Holland, Niederlande
- Wohnorte
- Rotterdam, Zuid-Holland, Niederlande
Griechenland - Berufe
- Autor
Redakteur kunst bij 't Vrije Volk - Beziehungen
- Kossmann, E.H. (Zwillingsbruder)
- Preise und Auszeichnungen
- Constantijn Huygensprijs (1980)
Mitglieder
Rezensionen
Auszeichnungen
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Statistikseite
- Werke
- 45
- Auch von
- 14
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- 373
- Beliebtheit
- #64,664
- Bewertung
- 4.1
- Rezensionen
- 11
- ISBNs
- 32
- Sprachen
- 2
The protagonist, Thomas Rozendal, walks around the streets of Rotterdam "like a tourist" after the bombardment. That seems to be his attitude pretty much throughout his life, but the war is the only time the outside world is present in the novel. There's an offhand remark about Greece being a dictatorship, but nothing comes through about the protests of the 1960s, with its social issues and the Vietnam War. This seems to illustrate once more that these characters were made, or I should say destroyed by World War 2. Many of the major and supporting characters commit suicide in some way eventually, whether in the form of actual suicide or in a more figurative way, such as the destruction of the only manuscript copy of a novel on which they spent many months of labor.
In the end the book is a fairly light, fast read. I wasn't always impressed by what's described, but I was definitely impressed by how it's described. A fine specimen of nihilism — pardon me, of the smell of sadness. The lack of meaning in life comes through quite well, and there's some technical mastery on top of the pleasant prose. I might actually like it better than some of the canonicized '80s works like Mulisch' De aanslag, an enjoyable read in spite of the fact that it belabors its Greek tragic build-up as well as its deep philosophical layers, and Claus' Het verdriet van België, a fragmented mainly aestheticizing work.
I read this book primarily because it was featured on the list of 1000 Books You Must Read Before You Die, and I figured I should acquaint myself with those Dutch books on that list I didn't know. I suppose there was an intent to avoid a more obvious book like the conspicuously absent Max Havelaar, but my own vote in that case would be Maria Dermoût's The Ten Thousand Things.… (mehr)