Shmuel Y. Agnon Quotes

A collection of quotes by Shmuel Y. Agnon.

Shmuel Yosef Agnon, commonly known as Shmuel Y. Agnon, was a renowned Israeli writer and Nobel laureate in literature. He was born on July 17, 1888, in Buczacz, Austria-Hungary (now part of Ukraine). Agnon's childhood was influenced by his traditional Jewish upbringing and the vibrant Hasidic community.

In 1908, Agnon migrated to Palestine, settling in Jerusalem, where he immersed himself in Jewish and Hebrew literature. He began writing in Hebrew, contributing to various publications and gaining recognition as a writer. Agnon's works encompassed novels, short stories, and essays that embodied his deep understanding of Jewish religious and cultural heritage. His literary style often blended modernist techniques with traditional Jewish storytelling.

Agnon's writings often explored themes of Jewish identity, faith, and the complexities of modern Jewish life. He depicted characters grappling with questions of tradition, assimilation, and the impact of historical events on individuals and communities. Agnon's literature not only sought to preserve Jewish heritage but also to bridge the gap between religious and secular Jews.

Throughout his career, Agnon received numerous accolades for his literary contributions. In 1966, he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, becoming the first Hebrew writer to receive this honor. His remarkable literary legacy continues to inspire readers and scholars worldwide.

Shmuel Y. Agnon passed away in Jerusalem on February 17, 1970, leaving behind a rich and enduring body of work that continues to shape Israeli literature.

It was as easy as breathing to go and have tea near the place where Jane Austen had so wittily scribbled and so painfully died. One of the things that causes some critics to marvel at Miss Austen is the laconic way in which, as a daughter of the epoch that saw the Napoleonic Wars, she contrives like a Greek dramatist to keep it off the stage while she concentrates on the human factor. I think this comes close to affectation on the part of some of her admirers. Captain Frederick Wentworth in , for example, is partly of interest to the female sex because of the 'prize' loot he has extracted from his encounters with Bonaparte's navy. Still, as one born after Hiroshima I can testify that a small Hampshire township, however large the number of names of the fallen on its village-green war memorial, is more than a world away from any unpleasantness on the European mainland or the high or narrow seas that lie between. (I used to love the detail that Hampshire's 'New Forest' is so called because it was only planted for the hunt in the late eleventh century.) I remember watching with my father and brother through the fence of Stanstead House, the Sussex mansion of the Earl of Bessborough, one evening in the early 1960s, and seeing an immense golden meadow carpeted entirely by grazing rabbits. I'll never keep that quiet, or be that still, again.This was around the time of countrywide protest against the introduction of a horrible laboratory-confected disease, named 'myxomatosis,' into the warrens of old England to keep down the number of nibbling rodents. Richard Adams's lapine masterpiece is the remarkable work that it is, not merely because it evokes the world of hedgerows and chalk-downs and streams and spinneys better than anything since , but because it is only really possible to imagine gassing and massacre and organized cruelty on this ancient and green and gently rounded landscape if it is organized and carried out against herbivores.

Christopher Hitchens