book bought on sale, I liked the cover.
The author traces the life of his father, Russian-Jewish, who fled his country in the early 20th century France. Only trace, he gets done instead of paternal assuming this would have had to tell him and probably using a stylus to suit himself, and, importantly, is the "I" which is used, although stressing the desire to write an autobiography invented more than a biography.
Y are raised, children in the Russian countryside, Odessa, exile in France, studied medicine, war, marriage, children, the end of life and disease. Because at the time of writing this (auto) biography, the father of the writer is struggling to move and is aware that there is little time. Then he complains, did not accept the disqualification.
In these pages, just 200, we discover a human volunteer life difficult but also a man demanding of himself and his family, uncompromising, generally unpleasant. However, it is to be admired for his courage and knowledge. Knowledge which, I confess I have sometimes escaped, as some Literary crossings turns dark for me, a poor mortal. For I confess myself felt silly at times when I could hardly understand the meaning of a sentence, because of a pen or an abstruse reference unknown. Fortunately, the majority convinced me and I was passionate pages of narrative, calling for a real reflection, a questioning of history and its consequences.
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