This book will convince you that the greatest philosophers in the world left their marks on bathroom walls! A hilarious account of graffiti, and much of it will have you howling with laughter. The author tends to take the subject a little too serious at times by tracing and documenting historic examples of graffiti. This adds considerable size to the book and adds some dry, boring reading. But for the most part, you will be laughing. A great volume to stash in your magazine rack in the bathroom!

good book to read to pass the time a lot of great one liners of bathhroom graffit

I bought the book and have read 1/3 of it. While the author is unquestionably qualified and writes well, I do have a beef: Many, perhaps most of the examples cited in the first third of the book relate to poetry. This is a personal disappointment, because I translate prose and frankly find it hard to relate to the technical issues he focuses on, e.g., rhyme, meter, etc. As long as you are aware of this, the book is a good read and arguably of interest to those who dabble in literary translation, as well as professionals.

One of the most interesting books on literary translation. Explains why and how translators translate, and gives a thorough analysis of the craft of literary translation.

This book will help readers understand what translation is all about, and will help translators put into words many of their deepest feelings.

At least not in beleaguered central Europe, at any rate ("where Prague Central used to be called Masaryk Station. Formerly known as Ferdinand Station"). Yes, the map of eastern Europe has been redrawn how many times in the last century alone?? "But why get worked up over it?" shrugs Mikulas Svoboda, our anti-hero in Alexander Kliment's Living Parallel. Mikulas repeats this same refrain at least 15 times throughout the story, reflecting his helplessness living under the communist regime in 1960s Czechoslovakia. Like other people living in police states, he has learned to survive by living a double life. Who wouldn't feel a little schizophrenic getting schooled as a youngster first under the fascist regime in the 1930s, only to be later followed by the Soviet brand of brainwashing? Mikulas has forged an uneasy truce with his guilt in comlying with his Marxist bosses in designing prefab "ugly, gray kitsch(y) housing cells" for which the Soviets are now infamous; an architect by profession, he "can't cross the border of drudgery to creation." The crux of Living Parallel, though, is Mikulas' dilemma whether to take up the opportunity to emigrate West with a friend or to remain in his native Prague. His story then takes us through the convolutions of his thoughts and feelings as he debates the pro's and con's of leaving home. Yes, living under an oppressive regime is difficult (to say the least) but can Mikulas' finely honed talent of living a successful, parallel life be sufficient for him after all? This book is a complex one, difficult to summarize in a short review; questions of religious faith and politics are woven throughout the narrative. Originally published in 1977, Living Parallel was written by Alexander Kliment, a dissident whose work was banned in his native Czechoslovakia while under communist rule. It was translated by Robert Wechsler, who must be commended for painstaking work. Some of the most beautiful descriptions of the Prague landscape can be found within the pages of Living Parallel.