Updated: Jul 28
Birth: November 28, 1881, Austria
Death: February 22, 1942, Brazil
Stefan Zweig was born in 1881 in Vienna, Austria. In addition to being a novelist; was also a playwright, journalist and biography writer. His recognition in the world of literature provided with stories like The Burning Secret, Chess, Fear, Amok, Confusion...
I would like to share with you today; Twenty-Four Hours in the Life of a Woman by Stefan Zweig
Normally reading Stefan Zweig's stories are like riding on a roller coaster. It's all about action and action is all that matter. But I can't say the same thing for this story. An argument over a hotel dinner table about an impulsive, scandalous event leads an elderly lady to confess the events of one day many years earlier when she also acted impulsively and potentially scandalously. This is a small tragedy, which asks the question of whether one should or should not act according to the dictates of the heart. It is also a beautifully written story but the topic was not the kind I expected. I think this is because of the name, it has an interesting and attractive name, but I didn't find the topic interesting at all, after reading it didn't impress me and make me think.
“Most people have little imagination. If something doesn’t affect them directly, does not drive a sharp wedge straight into their minds, it hardly excites them at all; but if an incident, however slight, takes place before their eyes, close enough for the senses to perceive it, it instantly rouses them to extremes of passion. They compensate for the infrequency of their sympathy, as it were, by exhibiting disproportionate and excessive vehemence.” /Stefan Zweig
“We crept back to our rooms, while that stricken specimen of mankind shook and sobbed alone with himself in the dark as the building slowly laid itself to rest, whispering, muttering, murmuring and sighing.” /Stefan Zweig
“He had just enough strength left to make his way unsteadily past us, looking at no one...” /Stefan Zweig
“Sure enough, he was absent from the dining-room that evening, but only in person, for he was the sole subject of conversation at every table, and all the guests praised his delightful, cheerful nature.”
“To see passion in every crime, and use that passion to excuse it.” /Stefan Zweig
“Gratitude is so seldom found, and those who are most grateful cannot express it, are silent in their confusion, or ashamed, or sometimes seem ungracious just to conceal their feelings...” /Stefan Zweig
“Perhaps only those who are trangers to passion know such sudden outbursts of emotion in their few passionate moments, moments of emotion like an avalanche or a hurricane; whole years fall from one’s own breast with the fury of powers left unused.” /Stefan Zweig
“...and there’s no point in a life lived aimlessly.” /Stefan Zweig
“A silky blond moustache surrounded sensuously warm lips in a slender, girlish face; soft, wavy brown hair curled over his pale forehead; every glance of his melting eyes was a caress... indeed everything about him was soft, endearing, charming, but without any artifice or affectation.” /Stefan Zweig
“And once again I feel, in horror, how weak, poor and flabby a substance whatever we call by the names of soul, spirit or feeling must be after all, not to mention what we describe as pain, since all this, even to the utmost degree, is insufficient to destroy the suffering flesh of the tormented body entirely... for we do survive such hours and our blood continues to pulse, instead of dying and falling like a tree struck by lightning...” /Stefan Zweig