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Imitating the plumber, the old woman went into the kitchen, my friend hurrying
after her; I made a movement as if to follow them, but instead went straight back
into the study, put the Browning into the right-hand, not the left-hand drawer of the
."No, he won't!" ' To give Polixena her due, she knew her job. She typed with ten
fingers and both hands and as soon as the telephone rang she would type with
one hand, pick up the receiver with the other and shout: 'He didn't like Calcutta, ...
stumped down the creaking wooden staircase; my play, which I had come to hate
, hung in my hands like lead. As I walked out into the courtyard the wind blew off
my hat and I had to pick it up out of a puddle. The Indian summer was gone ...
Wat mensen zeggen - Een review schrijven
LibraryThing ReviewGebruikersrecensie - nosajeel - LibraryThing
It is not only a reflection on me that I managed to read 30 or 40 pages of this book before realizing that I had read it before, more than fifteen years ago, translated under the title Black Snow. It is inconceivable that something similar could happen with even the first two paragraphs Volledige review lezen
LibraryThing ReviewGebruikersrecensie - HadriantheBlind - LibraryThing
Bulgakov knows how to write a fine novel - this one all about the hilariously bizarre and frustrating world of stage plays. It ends very abruptly, but the author was about to die. A shame, but it can be more than excused. A wonderfully funny book. Volledige review lezen