<p>Once upon a time I read a <a href="https://www.librarything.com/work/7679748/book/74856356">book about the Czech Republic</a> where someone (the author? the editor?) translated some of the Czech words but none of the German ones, which annoyed me because I took Russian in university, not German, and could often suss out the Slavic-based Czech on my own, whereas the German remained incomprehensible to me. Similarly (sort-of, maybe -- okay it's a bit of stretch), I keep putting the 'z' in Urzidil in odd places where I think it should be because I guess even the more Slavic parts of Czech culture ended up being just as incomprehensible to me as the German words in another book that is in no way related to this one, <A href="https://www.librarything.com/work/19152285/book/153765946">The Last Bell</a>, that I'm supposed to be reviewing.</p>

<p>So the whole thing feels like a dream. I read the stories in bed, before sleeping, so maybe that's why. Maybe it's because there's a story about a talking painting and another about a girl who can touch nature. There's also a story about villagers on either side of a pond fighting about cheesecakes and venison. There are bank clerks and forest wardens and countries (Czechoslovakia) that no longer exist and none of it seems real because it isn't real anymore, after Nazis and Soviets and globalization destroyed it all. What was that Zweig book I read awhile ago: <a href="http://www.reluctantm.com/?p=6149">Messages from a Lost World</a>? They gave the title to the wrong book, s'all I'm saying. </p>

<p>Maybe I should go to Prague, other parts of Bohemia. Maybe then this will all seem real. Well, not the talking stolen portrait part I hope.</p>

<p><A href="https://www.librarything.com/work/19152285/book/153765946">The Last Bell</a> by Johannes Urzidil went on sale April 25, 2017.</p>

<p><small>I received a copy free from <a href="https://www.netgalley.com/">Netgalley</a> in exchange for an honest review.</small></p>

https://rereadinglives.blogspot.com/2017/11/the-last-bell-short-story-by-johannes.html

I'm afraid this book wasn't for me. Thank you for giving me the chance to review it though.

A lovingly (it appears) translated work from a celebrated Czech author. The stories are a little bleak, a little melancholy and rueful, and a little "here is what we left behind" but they read marvelously and smoothly. It is always a pleasure to be introduced to a masterful writer working in a medium of which he or she has full control as Mr.Urzidil is. Looking forward to more from Pushkin from this writer and translator.

Johannes Urzidil (1896-1970) was a German-Czech writer, a friend of Kafka and Max Brod, who was forced to flee from Prague after the German Occupation in 1939, escaping first to the UK and finally settling in the US. He’s largely unknown to an English-speaking readership, but has now been translated for the first time and Pushkin Press have now published 5 of his stories in this slim volume. None of them made much of an impression on me, except the title story about a young maidservant who takes over her employers’ apartment and possessions when, as Jews, they are deported. This seemed to me to be a moving and complex story about coping with the German invasion, but the other stories I found rather whimsical – although admittedly well-written – and forgettable. However, it’s always of interest to discover a previously unknown author and I enjoyed reading these stories for that reason if none other.

Pushkin Press continues to do sterling work by retranslating and republishing European fiction with Johannes Urzidil’s The Last Bell (translated by David Burnett). The Last Bell includes five stories by a mid-century Czech author who got lost in the shuffle of history. In these stories, Urzidil writes about life in Prague in the late 1930s (before he himself fled Europe) and in the old Austro-Hungarian Empire before World War I.

The first story is the eponymous “The Last Bell,” my favorite story in the collection. The story opens with housekeeper Marška being left in charge of her employers’ apartment for the foreseeable future. The master and missus are Jewish and the Germans are on their way. So, Marška decides to live it up on their wealth with her sister in the luxury apartment. Things go well, until the sisters start to fraternize with their new Nazi occupiers. The story starts with pathos but takes a completely different tone of horror by the end.

Another stand out story is “The Duchess of Albanera,” in which a lonely bank manager steals a famous painting. The bank manager keeps the Duchess in an armoire and talks to her. Meanwhile, his acquaintances notice the slight changes in his routine and wonder what’s going on. What makes the story interesting is that the Duchess talks back to the bank manager, questioning him about his ideals of women and reminding him that reality is usually a lot more sordid than his imaginings.

The other three stories feel less polished than “The Last Bell” and “The Duchess of Albanera.” Thought it might be because Urzidil’s style grew less concrete and more experimental and impressionistic over time. The last three stories feel like drifting through time and space; they could have been set almost anywhere and any-when. That said, the stories of The Last Bell offer an interesting peek into a vanished European world.

I received a free copy of this book from NetGalley for review consideration.

A strong four – while a few of these stories did show signs of liberally edited modernism, where the author is allowed to just go off on one, generally the writing here is very good. The title story is a brilliant evocation of a moral issue forced by consorting with the enemy, in this case invading Nazi troops. Generally the works hark back to rural times, though, or Bohemia almost as seen in Kafka's tales. I don't know that Urzidil will ever be such a household name, but the time is right on this evidence to get a lot more translated into English, for the pleasures he gave his audience certainly found an appreciative reader here. We're well served by a fine introduction and this sampler, but to only have these five instances of his output in English is actually annoying.

I did not finish this book as I did not engage with the story at all.