William Somerset Maugham

Of Human Bondage

Of Human Bondage (1915) is a novel by W. Somerset Maugham. It is generally agreed to be his masterpiece and to be strongly autobiographical in nature, although Maugham stated, “This is a novel, not an autobiography, though much in it is autobiographical, more is pure invention.”Maugham, who had originally planned to call his novel Beauty from Ashes, finally settled on a title taken from a section of Spinoza's Ethics. The Modern Library ranked Of Human Bondage No. 66 on its list of the 100 best English-language novels of the 20th century.
882 páginas impresas

Opiniones

    daria zakharovacompartió su opiniónel año pasado
    👍Me gustó

    Sooo great book! Just loved it! I’m very great full to aquatinted this author! full of ups and downs, so realistic and emotional!
    Thank you!

    Вячеслав Вдовенкоcompartió su opiniónel año pasado
    👍Me gustó
    🔮Profundo
    💡He aprendido mucho
    🎯Justo en el blanco
    💞Romántico
    🚀Adictivo
    💧Prepárate para llorar

    Ma Lakcompartió su opiniónhace 2 años
    👍Me gustó

Citas

    amaksymovacompartió una citahace 7 años
    Insensibly he formed the most delightful habit in the world, the habit of reading: he did not know that thus he was providing himself with a refuge from all the distress of life
    enaycompartió una citahace 2 años
    don't think that women ought to sit down at table with men. It ruins conversation and I'm sure it's very bad for them. It puts ideas in their heads, and women are never at ease with themselves when they have ideas."
    Filippova Annacompartió una citahace 5 años
    He was a man who saw nothing for himself, but only through a literary atmosphere, and he was dangerous because he had deceived himself into sincerity. He honestly mistook his sensuality for romantic emotion, his vacillation for the artistic temperament, and his idleness for philosophic calm. His mind, vulgar in its effort at refinement, saw everything a little larger than life size, with the outlines blurred, in a golden mist of sentimentality. He lied and never knew that he lied, and when it was pointed out to him said that lies were beautiful. He was an idealist.

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