5.0
Comment(s)
12
View
2
Chapters

In God's Way by Bj?rnstjerne Bj?rnson

In God's Way Chapter 1 Page scan source:

http://books.google.com/books?id=K0gRAQAAMAAJ

Heinemann's International Library.

EDITOR'S NOTE.

There is nothing in which the Anglo-Saxon world differs more from the world of the Continent of Europe than in its fiction. English readers are accustomed to satisfy their curiosity with English novels, and it is rarely indeed that we turn aside to learn something of the interior life of those other countries the exterior scenery of which is often so familiar to us. We climb the Alps, but are content to know nothing of the pastoral romances of Switzerland. We steam in and out of the picturesque fjords of Norway, but never guess what deep speculation into life and morals is made by the novelists of that sparsely peopled but richly endowed nation. We stroll across the courts of the Alhambra, we are listlessly rowed upon Venetian canals and Lombard lakes, we hasten by night through the roaring factories of Belgium; but we never pause to inquire whether there is now flourishing a Spanish, an Italian, a Flemish school of fiction. Of Russian novels we have lately been taught to become partly aware, but we do not ask ourselves whether Poland may not possess a Dostoieffsky and Portugal a Tolstoi.

Yet, as a matter of fact, there is no European country that has not, within the last half-century, felt the dew of revival on the threshing-floor of its worn-out schools of romance. Everywhere there has been shown by young men, endowed with a talent for narrative, a vigorous determination to devote themselves to a vivid and sympathetic interpretation of nature and of man. In almost every language, too, this movement has tended to display itself more and more in the direction of what is reported and less of what is created. Fancy has seemed to these young novelists a poorer thing than observation; the world of dreams fainter than the world of men. They have not been occupied mainly with what might be or what should be, but with what is, and, in spite of all their shortcomings, they have combined to produce a series of pictures of existing society in each of their several countries such as cannot fail to form an archive of documents invaluable to futurity.

But to us they should be still more valuable. To travel in a foreign country is but to touch its surface. Under the guidance of a novelist of genius we penetrate to the secrets of a nation, and talk the very language of its citizens. We may go to Normandy summer after summer and know less of the manner of life that proceeds under those gnarled orchards of apple-blossom than we learn from one tale of Guy de Maupassant's. The present series is intended to be a guide to the inner geography of Europe. It presents to our readers a series of spiritual Baedekers and Murrays. It will endeavour to keep pace with every truly characteristic and vigorous expression of the novelist's art in each of the principal European countries, presenting what is quite new if it is also good, side by side with what is old, if it has not hitherto been presented to our public. That will be selected which gives with most freshness and variety the different aspects of continental feeling, the only limits of selection being that a book shall be, on the one hand, amusing, and, on the other, wholesome.

One difficulty which must be frankly faced is that of subject. Life is now treated in fiction by every race but our own with singular candour. The novelists of the Lutheran North are not more fully emancipated from prejudice in this respect than the novelists of the Catholic South. Everywhere in Europe a novel is looked upon now as an impersonal work, from which the writer, as a mere observer, stands aloof, neither blaming nor applauding. Continental fiction has learned to exclude, in the main, from among the subjects of its attention, all but those facts which are of common experience, and thus the novelists have determined to disdain nothing and to repudiate nothing which is common to humanity; much is freely discussed, even in the novels of Holland and of Denmark, which our race is apt to treat with a much more gingerly discretion. It is not difficult, however, we believe--it is certainly not impossible--to discard all which may justly give offence, and yet to offer to an English public as many of the masterpieces of European fiction as we can ever hope to see included in this library. It will be the endeavour of the editor to search on all hands and in all languages for such books as combine the greatest literary value with the most curious and amusing qualities of manner and matter.

EDMUND GOSSE.

IN GOD'S WAY

Heinemann's International Library.

Edited by EDMUND GOSSE.

* * *

Crown 8vo, in paper covers, 2s. 6d., or cloth limp, 3s. 6d.

Volume I.

IN GOD'S WAY.

A Novel.

By BJ?RNSTJERNE BJ?RNSON.

Translated from the Norwegian by Elizabeth Carmichael.

* * *

Volume II. In July.

PIERRE AND JEAN.

By GUY DE MAUPASSANT.

Translated from the French by Clara Bell.

* * *

Volume III. In August.

THE CHIEF JUSTICE.

By EMIL FRANZOS.

Translated from the German by Miles Corbet.

Other Volumes will be announced later.

Each Volume will contain a Specially Written Introduction by the Editor.

* * *

London: WILLIAM HEINEMANN, 21 Bedford St., W.C.

IN GOD'S WAY

A NOVEL

BY

BJ?RNSTJERNE BJ?RNSON

TRANSLATED FROM THE NORWEGIAN

BY

ELIZABETH CARMICHAEL

LONDON

WILLIAM HEINEMANN

Continue Reading

Other books by Bj?rnstjerne Bj?rnson

More
Captain Mansana and Mother's Hands

Captain Mansana and Mother's Hands

Literature

5.0

<p> <i>Cannibals All!<\/i> got more attention in William Lloyd Garrison's <i>Liberator<\/i> than any other book in the history of that abolitionist journal. And Lincoln is said to have been more angered by George Fitzhugh than by any other pro-slavery writer, yet he unconsciously paraphrased <i>Cannibals All!<\/i> in his House Divided speech. <\/p><p> <\/p><p> Fitzhugh was provocative because of his stinging attack on free society, laissez-faire economy, and wage slavery, along with their philosophical underpinnings. He used socialist doctrine to defend slavery and drew upon the same evidence Marx used in his indictment of capitalism. Socialism, he held, was only \"the new fashionable name for slavery,\" though slavery was far more humane and responsible, \"the best and most common form of socialism.\" <\/p><p> <\/p><p> His most effective testimony was furnished by the abolitionists themselves. He combed the diatribes of their friends, the reformers, transcendentalists, and utopians, against the social evils of the North. \"Why all this,\" he asked, \"except that free society is a failure?\" <\/p><p> <\/p><p> The trouble all started, according to Fitzhugh, with John Locke, \"a presumptuous charlatan,\" and with the heresies of the Enlightenment. In the great Lockean consensus that makes up American thought from Benjamin Franklin to Franklin Roosevelt, Fitzhugh therefore stands out as a lone dissenter who makes the conventional polarities between Jefferson and Hamilton, or Hoover and Roosevelt, seem insignificant. Beside him Taylor, Randolph, and Calhoun blend inconspicuously into the American consensus, all being apostles of John Locke in some degree. An intellectual tradition that suffers from uniformity--even if it is virtuous, liberal conformity--could stand a bit of contrast, and George Fitzhugh can supply more of it than any other American thinker. <\/p>

You'll also like

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

Xiao Xiaosu
4.5

I went to the City Clerk’s office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk’s pitying look told me my entire life was a lie. "The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single." The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate. Gray’s text to her was the final blow: "Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we’re done with the charade." I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray’s life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance. How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury. I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street." "I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray." If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world.

My Reborn Husband Didn't Choose Me? I Flash Married a Firefighter!

My Reborn Husband Didn't Choose Me? I Flash Married a Firefighter!

Sibeal Sallese
5.0

For seven years, I drank the bitter tonic my fiancé, Alpha Adrian, gave me, believing it would cure my "wolfless" defect. I was wrong. It was poison. He wasn't trying to heal me; he was keeping me weak so he could replace me with my foster sister, Ariel. When the fire consumed the Alpha's Wing, I was trapped under a burning beam, my legs crushed. Adrian kicked down the door. I reached out to him, screaming for help. But he didn't look at me. He looked at Ariel, who was lying on the floor in a silk nightgown. He scooped her up, cradling her like she was the only thing that mattered. I begged him not to leave me. Instead of helping, he used his Alpha Command on me, his voice booming with supernatural weight. "Stay put! I'll be back for you!" It was a lie. He used his power to freeze me in the inferno and left me to burn alive. I survived, only to watch him publicly reject me for her the next day, with my own father's blessing. They called me a "genetic dead end." They thought I would crawl away and die in shame. I didn't. I limped up the mountain to the Neutral Lands to find the one man everyone fears-the exiled Alpha, Garth Morgan. "I have the Gamma Bloodline Scroll," I told the massive figure emerging from the shadows. "I don't want your gratitude," Garth growled, his eyes like storm clouds. "I'm not here for gratitude," I replied, staring him down. "I'm here to make a deal with the devil."

Betrayed Bride: Claimed By The Brother

Betrayed Bride: Claimed By The Brother

Reilly Mcardle
5.0

I arrived at the hotel with Julian's favorite takeout, ready to surprise my fiancé before our big merger. But the moment I swiped the keycard, the silence of the hallway felt heavy and wrong. Inside, a red-soled stiletto lay on the marble floor-the same one I'd watched my best friend Lila try on at Saks last week. Through the cracked bedroom door, I watched Julian's back arch as Lila looked me straight in the eye and smiled, wrapping her legs tighter around him to mock my heartbreak. I fled to the penthouse to hide, only to find Grafton, Julian's "crippled" brother, waiting in the dark. To my horror, the man who was supposed to be paralyzed stood up from his wheelchair, gripped my chin with cold fingers, and forced me to sign a contract that gave him control of my family's shares. He knew about my mother's secret medical bills and used them to buy my silence, effectively turning my life into a calculated game of corporate chess. The betrayal tasted like acid, and the injustice of it all burned in my throat. My fiancé was a liar, my best friend was a thief, and the man now controlling my fate was a predator who had been faking his disability for years. I couldn't understand how everyone I trusted had turned out to be a monster. I was trapped between a man who cheated on me and a man who wanted to own me, with no way out and no one to turn to. But when Julian came looking for me, Grafton didn't hide; he stood tall, looming over me with a possessive glint in his eyes. "Help me destroy Julian," I rasped, realizing that to survive the Faulkner men, I had to become the most dangerous player of them all.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book