Too Loud a Solitude [Hardcover]

Bohumil Hrabal (Author), Michael Henry Heim (Translator)

Book Description

Publication Date: January 1, 1990

Hantá rescues books from the jaws of his compacting press and carries them home. Hrabal, whom Milan Kundera calls “our very best writer today,” celebrates the power and the indestructibility of the written word. Translated by Michael Henry Heim.

--This text refers to the Paperback edition.

Editorial Reviews

From Publishers Weekly

One of Czechoslovakia's most popular authors, Hrabal ( I Served the King of England ) was never a dissident, nor are his books polemics; he is noted for his visceral, fabulistic prose and bizarre sense of humor. Hanta, the narrator of this absorbing novella, is a gentle alcoholic who has spent 35 years compacting wastepaper. In his messy, subterranean world, the refuse of human life accumulates: bloody butcher paper, office correspondence, yellowed newspapers and, most importantly, books. Able to quote Kant, Goethe and Seneca, he is both "artist and audience" as he destroys or selects for his own enjoyment the printed matter others have discarded. Hanta's unusual occupation--in a country which until recently suffered severe literary censorship--is an ironic backdrop as he reflects on the women he has loved or imaginary encounters between historical figures such as Jesus Christ and Lao-tze. This fable about the modern-day equivalent of book-burning, although a showcase for Hrabal's dazzling writing talent, often slides into parody, under the weight of its obtrusive morality.
Copyright 1990 Reed Business Information, Inc.

From Library Journal

In this novella, written in 1976, narrator and authorial alter ego Hanta meditates on the 35 years he has spent at a hydraulic press in a dark cellar, compacting waste paper and books proscribed by various regimes. Though he no longer weeps or protests when rare treasures appear in his press, the books that he must destroy become his whole life, his only companions. When he is to be replaced by young workers with a more productive machine, Hanta dreams of a gigantic press that destroys not only himself but the entire city, with its traditions and culture. Written by a leading Czech writer (I Served the King of England, LJ 4/1/89), this affecting metaphor expressing fear for Central European culture belongs in libraries collecting European fiction.
- Marie Bednar, Pennsylvania State Univ. Libs., University Park
Copyright 1990 Reed Business Information, Inc.

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Product Details

• Hardcover: 98 pages
• Publisher: Harcourt; 1st U.S. Edition edition (January 1, 1990)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 015190491X
• ISBN-13: 978-0151904914
• Product Dimensions: 8.3 x 5.8 x 0.7 inches
• Shipping Weight: 8.8 ounces
• Average Customer Review: 4.6 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (35 customer reviews)
• Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #2,000,902 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

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33 of 37 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Chronicle of a Life and a Death Foretold, June 24, 2004

By 

Leonard Fleisig "Len" (Washington, D.C.) - See all my reviews
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This review is from: Too Loud a Solitude (Paperback)

"For thirty-five years now I've been in wastepaper, and it's my love story." So begins Bohumil Hrabal's Too Loud Solitude. The narrator, Hantá, has worked as a trash compactor his entire adult life and his job centers on creating machine compressed bales of waste paper. The most depressing aspect of his job is the fact that a core part of the waste left for compacting consists of books, hundred and thousands of books no longer wanted or desired by the then current political regime. Hrabal's novella explores in its own unique way the life and after-life of books and knowledge.

At first glance, Hantá comes across as an unwashed, miserably drunk, under-educated worker. However, from the outset it becomes clear that the books condemned to destruction by Hantá have left an indelible imprint in his own soul. Hantá notes that his "education has been so unwitting I can't quite tell which of my thoughts come from me and which from my books." He notes that he doesn't really read, rather, he will "pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop." As the story progresses Haòtá thoughts are sprinkled with thoughts and quotations from the Talmud, Kant, Erasmus and all the great thinkers of the ages.

Hantá cannot destroy all the books submitted to him for destruction. Rather, he has spent thirty-five years sneaking books out in his briefcase, one or two at a time. His modest house is overrun with books and Haòtá notes that too loud a sneeze could condemn him to death if the books towering over his bed collapse upon him. Despite the despair caused by the nature of his work and his being lost in too loud a solitude, Hantá continues to live for his books. At the end of his work day he makes his way home "yet smiling, because my briefcase is full of books and that very night I expect them to tell me things about myself I don't know."

Hantá's life though is beset with woe. His boss looks down upon him on account of his slovenly and drunken appearance and his work has been made obsolete by a new compacting machine on the other side of town. Hantá makes a trip to view the new compacting factory and upon his return to his own decrepit surroundings engages in a futile fury of compacting in a manner reminiscent of John Henry and his hammer.

Hantá is also wracked by guilt at the destruction of thousands of books. He hears the crunch of human skeletons whenever his hydraulic press crushes beautiful books with astonishing force. At the end of the day, Haòtá attempts to relieve himself of his guilt by dint of the Talmudic saying "For we are like olives: only when we are crushed do we yield what is best in us." Hantá clearly wants to believe that he is simply releasing what is best in the books he must crush.

The tone for the book's conclusion is established by reference to this crushing of olives. Hantá's internal monologue reveals his awareness that he has consumed the contents of thousands of books. He is aware that he cannot write words that can express adequately all that he has learned. He is wistful at the thought that being crushed may be the best or only way to yield what is the best in him. Consequently, the physical contents of Hantá's last bale of waste should come as no surprise as the narrative ends.

Too Loud a Solitude does chronicle a life and a death foretold. Hrabal, despite obtaining a degree in law from Prague's Charles University was forced to work as a manual laborer in the 1950s. This included a stint as a waste compactor. In 1997, beset with ill-health, Hrabal fell or flew out of his fifth floor hospital room and plunged to his death. Some have argued that he slipped while feeding some pigeons. (Defenestration, whether self-inflicted or not, has played an important role in Czech and Bohemian history from 1419 through the death of Jan Masaryk in 1948). Having read Too Loud a Solitude one can only think that perhaps Hrabal, at the end of his life felt it was time to yield to the world all that was best in him once in a manner that would resonate for him and with his native readers.

Too Loud a Solitude is a beautiful, thoughtful piece of work that should be appreciated by anyone that loves the written word. By making us and Hantá wince at the destruction of the written word the beauty and importance of those words are heightened for all of us.

21 of 24 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars a magical gem of a book, March 11, 1999

By A Customer

This review is from: Too Loud a Solitude (Paperback)

I have just finished reading Bohumil Hrabal's Too Loud a Solitude and am reeling from its intoxicating effect. This book is not for everyone - there is no real "plot," and readers expecting a traditional narrative style will be bewildered and disappointed. But those readers who are sensitive to the beauty of language and wonderful thoughts will adore this book. It is pure poetry, lyricism, and philosophy. This is an incredible book, and I can't wait to read it again. And again, and again...

7 of 7 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Tragic Perfection, November 5, 2004

By 

Renaissance Guy (Czech Republic) - See all my reviews

This review is from: Too Loud a Solitude (Paperback)

Hrabal was a master of comic tragedy. Even in his own death (he fell out of a hospital window while feeding pigeons) there is an element of comedy in the tragedy. This masterfully written book about the life of a paper compactor was written to move its readers to laughter and to tears. Hrabal managed to distill metaphors of nearly endless depth into a book less than 100 pages long. His writing is perfect. His style is a readily accessible stream-of-consciousness, very much unlike the atmospheric stream-of-consciousness we find in the elaborate works of James Joyce. What makes the writing so enjoyable is that Hrabal includes the tiniest details which make the story sing with flawless realism. This is a great introduction to the works of a tremendously talented author, and will leave you wanting to read more from Bohumil Hrabal.