The Son of Man

The Son of Man

The Son of Man

The Son of Man

Excerpt

There is an intense and incomplete quality in Mauriac's writing: a quality more characteristic of poetry than of prose. In translating this book I was constantly reminded of his genius for compressing deep thought in seductively simple, fragmentary language--as if he were compelled to catch a fleeting insight on the wing. It may also be said that Mauriac's heart speaks more than his pen; his vision is, as it were, always one step beyond the potential of linguistic expression. Mauriac is, moreover, disturbingly apocalyptic; the reader feels that he is employing his artistic talent as a bulwark against some imminent disaster.

For all these reasons I felt obliged to translate Mauriac's prose in terms of his vision. Every effort . . .

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