Of Human Bondage
With an Introduction by Benjamin DeMott and an Afterword by Maeve Binchy
(Sprache: Englisch)
From a tormented orphan with a clubfoot, Philip Carey grows into an impressionable young man with a voracious appetite for adventure and knowledge. His cravings take him to Paris at age eighteen to try his hand at art, then back to London to study medicine....
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From a tormented orphan with a clubfoot, Philip Carey grows into an impressionable young man with a voracious appetite for adventure and knowledge. His cravings take him to Paris at age eighteen to try his hand at art, then back to London to study medicine. But even so, nothing can sate his nagging hunger for experience. Then he falls obsessively in love, embarking on a disastrous relationship that will change his life forever. Marked by countless similarities to Maugham s own life, his masterpiece is not an autobiography, as the author himself once contended, but an autobiographical novel; fact and fiction are inexorably mingled; the emotions are my own. And although he based Of Human Bondage on what he knew, his is an excessively rare gift of storytelling...almost the equal of imagination itself. *
With an Introduction by Benjamin De Mott and an Afterword by Maeve Binchy
*The Sunday Times (London)
Lese-Probe zu „Of Human Bondage “
ITHE DAY broke grey and dull. The clouds hung heavily, and there was a rawness in the air that suggested snow. A woman servant came into a room in which a child was sleeping and drew the curtains. She glanced mechanically at the house opposite, a stucco house with a portico, and went to the child's bed.
'Wake up, Philip,' she said.
She pulled down the bed-clothes, took him in her arms, and carried him downstairs. He was only half awake.
'Your mother wants you,' she said.
She opened the door of a room on the floor below and took the child over to a bed in which a woman was lying. It was his mother. She stretched out her arms, and the child nestled by her side. He did not ask why he had been awakened. The woman kissed his eyes, and with thin, small hands felt the warm body through his white flannel nightgown. She pressed him closer to herself. 'Are you sleepy, darling?' she said.
Her voice was so weak that it seemed to come already from a great distance. The child did not answer, but smiled comfortably. He was very happy in the large, warm bed, with those soft arms about him. He tried to make himself smaller still as he cuddled against his mother, and he kissed her sleepily. In a moment he closed his eyes and was fast asleep. The doctor came forward and stood by the bedside.
'Oh, don't take him away yet,' she moaned.
The doctor, without answering, looked at her gravely. Knowing she would not be allowed to keep the child much longer, the woman kissed him again; and she passed her hand down his body till she came to his feet; she held the right foot in her hand and felt the five small toes; and then slowly passed her hand over the left one. She gave a sob.
'What's the matter?' said the doctor. 'You're tired.'
She shook her head, unable to speak, and the tears rolled down her cheeks. The doctor bent down.
'Let me take him.'
She was too weak to resist his wish, and she gave the child up. The doctor handed him back to his
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nurse.
'You'd better put him back in his own bed.'
'Very well, sir.'
The little boy, still sleeping, was taken away. His mother sobbed now broken-heartedly. 'What will happen to him, poor child?'
The monthly nurse tried to quiet her, and presently, from exhaustion, the crying ceased. The doctor walked to a table on the other side of the room, upon which, under a towel, lay the body of a still-born child. He lifted the towel and looked. He was hidden from the bed by a screen, but the woman guessed what he was doing.
'Was it a girl or a boy?' she whispered to the nurse.
'Another boy.'
The woman did not answer. In a moment the child's nurse came back. She approached the bed.
'Master Philip never woke up,' she said.
There was a pause. Then the doctor felt his patient's pulse once more.
'I don't think there's anything I can do just now,' he said. 'I'll call again after breakfast.'
'I'll show you out, sir,' said the child's nurse.
They walked downstairs in silence. In the hall the doctor stopped.
'You've sent for Mrs. Carey's brother-in-law, haven't you?'
'Yes, sir.'
'D'you know at what time he'll be here?'
'No, sir, I'm expecting a telegram.'
'What about the little boy? I should think he'd be better out of the way.'
'Miss Watkin said she'd take him, sir.'
'Who's she?'
'She's his godmother, sir. D'you think Mrs. Carey will get over it, sir?'
The doctor shook his head.
II
IT WAS a week later. Philip was sitting on the floor in the drawing-room at Miss Watkin's house in Onslow Gardens. He was an only child and used to amusing himself. The room was filled with massive furniture, and on each of the sofas were three big cushions. There was a cushion too
'You'd better put him back in his own bed.'
'Very well, sir.'
The little boy, still sleeping, was taken away. His mother sobbed now broken-heartedly. 'What will happen to him, poor child?'
The monthly nurse tried to quiet her, and presently, from exhaustion, the crying ceased. The doctor walked to a table on the other side of the room, upon which, under a towel, lay the body of a still-born child. He lifted the towel and looked. He was hidden from the bed by a screen, but the woman guessed what he was doing.
'Was it a girl or a boy?' she whispered to the nurse.
'Another boy.'
The woman did not answer. In a moment the child's nurse came back. She approached the bed.
'Master Philip never woke up,' she said.
There was a pause. Then the doctor felt his patient's pulse once more.
'I don't think there's anything I can do just now,' he said. 'I'll call again after breakfast.'
'I'll show you out, sir,' said the child's nurse.
They walked downstairs in silence. In the hall the doctor stopped.
'You've sent for Mrs. Carey's brother-in-law, haven't you?'
'Yes, sir.'
'D'you know at what time he'll be here?'
'No, sir, I'm expecting a telegram.'
'What about the little boy? I should think he'd be better out of the way.'
'Miss Watkin said she'd take him, sir.'
'Who's she?'
'She's his godmother, sir. D'you think Mrs. Carey will get over it, sir?'
The doctor shook his head.
II
IT WAS a week later. Philip was sitting on the floor in the drawing-room at Miss Watkin's house in Onslow Gardens. He was an only child and used to amusing himself. The room was filled with massive furniture, and on each of the sofas were three big cushions. There was a cushion too
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Autoren-Porträt von William Somerset Maugham
William Somerset Maugham (1874 1965) studied medicine, but the quick success of his first novel, Liza of Lambeth (1897), started him on his lifelong literary career, during which he would become one of the most popular English authors since Dickens. His own life, however, was more tragic, shocking, and fascinating than any novel. After his adored parents died, he grew up in a miserable vicarage and suffered from a physical handicap of which he was ashamed. During his lifetime, Maugham would marry and divorce, be sent to Russia as a spy, and entertain such celebrities as Jean Cocteau, Winston Churchill, Noël Coward, the Aga Khan, and Ian Fleming at his Riviera mansion. Among his masterpieces are Of Human Bondage, The Painted Veil, The Razor s Edge, and The Moon and Sixpence. In addition, such works as The Letter and Rain established Maugham as a gifted short story writer.Benjamin DeMott (1924 2005) was professor of English and the Mellon professor of humanities at Amherst College. The author of two novels, he was best known for his cultural criticism in leading periodicals and in such books as The Imperial Middle: Why Americans Can t Think Straight About Class and The Trouble with Friendship: Why Americans Can t Think Straight About Race.
Maeve Binchy (1940 2012) was the New York Times bestselling author of Quentins, Scarlet Feather, Tara Road (an Oprah s Book Club Selection), Circle of Friends, Light a Penny Candle, and many other novels.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: William Somerset Maugham
- 2011, 100th Anniversary Edition, 704 Seiten, Masse: 10,8 x 17,4 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Penguin US
- ISBN-10: 0451530179
- ISBN-13: 9780451530172
- Erscheinungsdatum: 14.07.2011
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
The modern writer who has influenced me the most. George OrwellOne of my favorite writers. Gabriel García Marquez
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