The Magic Mountain: A NovelHans Castorp - on the verge of an intense flirtation with Clavdia Chauchat, a married woman and feverish fellow patient - is perched high above the world, dozing in his splendid lounge chair at the International Sanatorium Berghof, swaddled in blankets against the Alpine chill. To his surprise and secret delight, he will remain on this "magic mountain" for seven years - removed from the "real" world, but irresistibly drawn into the sanatorium's own complex, vertiginous society, which in Mann's hands becomes a microcosm for Western civilization and its interior life on the eve of the First World War. Flooded with feeling, with powerful evocations of disease, with the glories of the natural world and inklings of the supernatural, The Magic Mountain is equally remarkable for Mann's treatment of time - the "flatland time" of healthy, active people and the "inelastic present" of the "people up here, " for whom illness is a lifelong career. Mann is a master at drawing dazzling characters with the finest irony: Settembrini, the impassioned Italian liberal, and Naphta, the caustic Jewish Jesuit, whose opposing worldviews trap them in a grotesque duel; Mynheer Peeperkorn, the enormously wealthy Dutch planter whose garrulous "personality" all but overwhelms his fellow patients; the blustery Director Behrens and subtle Dr. Krokowski, whose combined energies rule the day and the night of the Berghof; Clavdia Chauchat, the elusive Russian beauty whose slinking charms can awaken forgotten love; and, of course, Hans Castorp himself - the ordinary made extraordinary - whose interior journey leads him out into a blinding snowstorm and a stunning, fleeting moment of revelation; Hans, who is last seen on a battlefield of the Great War - the very conflict toward which every word of the novel has been magnetized. |
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Page 36
... morning routine - its chief utensils included a rubber basin , a wooden bowl of green , lavender - scented soap , and a straw - colored brush - and was able not only to tend to matters of personal hygiene but also to unpack and put his ...
... morning routine - its chief utensils included a rubber basin , a wooden bowl of green , lavender - scented soap , and a straw - colored brush - and was able not only to tend to matters of personal hygiene but also to unpack and put his ...
Page 186
... morning there would be a robust knock on his door , and the bath attendant would enter , a sinewy fellow named Turnherr , with rolled - up sleeves and heavily veined forearms . In a gurgling voice with a serious impediment , he would ...
... morning there would be a robust knock on his door , and the bath attendant would enter , a sinewy fellow named Turnherr , with rolled - up sleeves and heavily veined forearms . In a gurgling voice with a serious impediment , he would ...
Page 562
... morning - of a frosty , dark winter morning , when the yellowish glow of a nightstand lamp is mirrored in the window- pane and shines out into bare branches , stiff in the icy fog of a morning harsh with the cries of crows . With a few ...
... morning - of a frosty , dark winter morning , when the yellowish glow of a nightstand lamp is mirrored in the window- pane and shines out into bare branches , stiff in the icy fog of a morning harsh with the cries of crows . With a few ...
Contents
Room 34 | 10 |
2 | 18 |
At the TienappelsHans Castorps Moral State | 28 |
Copyright | |
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Common terms and phrases
arms asked balcony beautiful Berghof bobsled body called Castorp replied Castorp thought chair chest Clavdia cold course cousin death dining hall Director Behrens door dream eyes face feel felt fever flatlands Frau Chauchat Frau Stöhr Fräulein Freemasonry gaze gentlemen glass guests hair hand head heard heart Herr Albin Herr Settembrini honor human humanist illness Joachim Kleefeld knew Krokowski lady laughed least lips listened living look Maria Mancini matter meal mind morning mouth Naphta nature never once organic pale Paravant patient Peeperkorn person pneumothorax Pribislav pulled reason rest cure Rhadamanthus Russian table sanatorium second breakfast seemed sense shoulder side silent simply sitting smile snow someone sort soul speak spoke stared stood sure talk there's things took turned voice waiting walk watched weeks woman word young Ziemssen