The Good Soldier Švejk (2018)
blogs.loc.gov
blogs.loc.gov
Not only is it hilariously funny it's also full of the tribulations of life and how the system—bureaucracies—here the army—lands one in absurd and unexpected situations.
It's a great shame Hašek died so young (he was a great observer of human nature).
Do yourself a real favor, read it or get an audio book.
From https://www.nytimes.com/2004/11/17/theater/newsandfeatures/t...
"Heller, who died in 1999, told various interviewers that Céline and Kafka were his most powerful influences and that "Svejk" was "just a funny book.""
https://www.vanityfair.com/culture/2011/08/heller-201108
"The Czech writer Arnošt Lustig claimed that Heller had told him at a New York party for Milos Forman in the late 1960s that he couldn’t have written Catch-22 without first reading Jaroslav Hašek’s unfinished World War I satire, The Good Soldier Schweik. "
There's a place for hope in Catch-22.
In Svejk, the gruesome absurdity of the war prevails in all situations.
Rather I thought Catch-22 to be a so-so imitation of Švejk.
Then again I've been re-reading Švejk since childhood.
Similarly, how you can tell when Hasek dies before finishing Švejk and his friend takes over with the ending, the jokes just fall off a bit.
Svejk is generally funnier, IMO
It's the Catch-22 of WW1.
A bit more gruesome and obscene, both less serious and much darker than Catch-22, and highlighting a wider scope of social (and military) issues.
https://paradiseeditions.net/products/the-man-without-a-tran...
it is now forbidden to call war by its name ? /s
Luckily I was well versed before I showed up to Uncle Sam’s doorstep. Catch-22 paints paints a good picture. And had a high counselor who was a Vietnam vet and said Apocalypse Now was the most realistic Vietnam movie he’d. And I can’t say that my experiences in were too far from my expectations.
I think the thing people don’t get about the military, at least speaking of my experience in the US’s, is even in places like special operations units and doing the stuff that reads great in a newspaper, often enough there’s an absolute, epic, comedic shitshow going on inside with a cast of characters that you couldn’t even do justice to in a goofball comedy. Suppose that might apply to lots of things. Luckily, no military really has to have their shit together, they just gotta be better than the other side.
The Sword in the Stone is pretty good in this regard. Apart from that first book (which is published as a standalone book) the entire Once and Future King is too complex for a child, I think (instead it would come off as boring and obscure).
But in general almost any book a kid wants to try to read will be fine.
Also: back in the day when small towns had a single cinema screen, movies would travel around as physical media and play for a week or two. So they had to be appropriate for anyone in town else the cinema owner wouldn’t take them.
My kid loved those Fred Astaire musicals. I do too. For him they were just fun. To me, many of them were quite racy and quite explicit! But all that just went over his head.
It can easily be read as funny little books following the sagas of recuring (anti)heroes. But the light-hearted stories belie a sharp-eyed critique of society, with the most well known example probably being Vimes' Boot theory of socioeconomic unfairness.
Often, the subtility is hidden in a word or a choice of words that can easily go unnoticed, but are all small hints of the vast pluridisciplinary depth of knowledge of the author. The esoteric, historical, literary and physical sciences references (to name just them), are delightful small winks to the reader sprinkled throughout the books.
Jonathan Swift: Gulliver's Travels
Umberto Eco: The Name of the Rose
Bohumil Hrabal: Cutting it Short
Antal Szerb: The Pendragon Legend
A good portion of the book are philosophical discussions, which would be IMHO very boring and not understandable for small children.
The magic of novels like Svejk or Little Prince is that those extra layers are mostly implied, emergent, they're not written out explicitly and thus don't bore out the young readers.
* Island of the Blue Dolphins
* Chronicles of Prydain (Book of Three, The Black Cauldron, etc)
Chronicles of Narnia aren't Newberry winners, but are good regardless (if you don't mind the religious subtext).
+1 for other people mentioning The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings.
Our whole family has enjoyed classics like Pride and Prejudice and Dracula -- such books are called "classics" for a reason.
Modern YA fiction has some very good books as well -- we all enjoyed Hole by Louis Sachar.
Some good modern sci-fi too -- Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir was well received, as was Ender's Game.
Brandon Sanderson's stuff is very good. Whole family enjoyed The Way of Kings and the books that follow.
(For context, "whole family" is mix of genders, ages 10-15)
In addition to what the other replies recommended, I read Tom Sharpe at a young age and enjoyed all of them with sometimes uncontrollable giggles.
Start with Wilt, I think. Then maybe The Throwback.
His short stories are beyond fascinating and adorable, BTW. One, for example, equates accounting to hunting and detective work.
The Stars My Destination by Alfred Bester.
Works of James Herriot.
IIRC, the name for rabbit was kebbo or something like that, so if you called out the true name for rabbit, any and all rabbits would be affected. This would then hold for petals as well?
Also, the secret to exiting the school (getting past the guardian) was pretty cool.
I disliked it as a kid for the same reasons I've loved it (and Exupéry's other aviator stories) as adult: it's abstract and impressionist.
Intruder in the Dust, the best of William Faulkner's "young adult" novels. The short story collection Knight's Gambit is also well worth a look.
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. My mother read it to me before I could read. I thought it was a great adventure book!
For a child, it's a slapstick comedy about Satan's retinue's visit to Soviet Moscow.
For a teen, it's a savage political satire taking down Stalinism.
For an adult, it's philosophy...
Vanity Fair by Thackeray
Mr Johnson by Joyce Cary
Lavengro and Romany Rye by George Borrow
The Descent of Woman by Elaine Morgan
Fluid Concepts and Creative Analogies by Douglas Hofstadter et al.
Identity Crisis by Ben Elton
Spoilers!!! Stories include:
- One time he wrote to paper called animals and unfortunately run out of animals to write, so he just started inventing them. It ended up in year long trip to Australia paid by some wealthy women who really wanted to get her own "Tasmanian Vampire"
- Russian general invades city. Hasek knows the best way to stay alive is to have a drink with him. They get very drunk and general ask Hasek what's his biggest problem. Hasek says that the fact that people cannot read. Next day he wakes up to bunch of posters around the city saying that whoever will not be able to read by noon tomorrow will be executed.
In particular, the volunteer Marek had been an editor for an Animal World journal, where he published articles about made up animals. And even entered a public debate with some ornithologist who questioned his articles. That's in the chapter Skvejk's Adventures in Kyralyhida.
If I remember correctly, Hashek was also selling dogs in real life (Shvejk's profession in the book).
"Then, see you after the war, at six o’clock in the evening." Vodička said.
"Better come at six-thirty to be safe if I’m late," Švejk replied.
https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:U_Kalicha_(Pra...
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:U_Kalicha_(Pragu...
Context: "U Kalicha" refers to a bar in Prague (translation: At the Chalice).
The wikimedia link takes one to a photo of the bar today.
That being said, all the stuff about censorship and getting arrested for "treason" (basically for a political joke at the bar) hit too close to home for me, and I am from a former Soviet block country, and I found those pieces very depressing. Still, I went through all books -- several times -- and enjoyed them a lot. The author really captured a lot of absurdities very well.
Same here, I was in tears I was laughing that much. I found it funny because I recognized those silly maddening situations from my own life. We all experience them but it takes a master like Hašek to remind us about how absurd they really are.
You may probably find it curious that Hashek ended up being a bolshevik and a red army commissar.
That has happened quite a lot in history, sadly (also I am aware that in the case of the USSR there was no voting involved, it was just a figure of speech).
I am not a historian, but I think the society turned this way, in a sense. It's not like some external force coerced them, when everyone was against it.
Hashek is an example. He was not forcefully conscripted, it was his choice.
I've just recently listened to Kerensky's interview (the chairman of the Provisional Government that was ousted by the October Revolution in 1917). He was unable to gather any forces, no-one defended him.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wA225DBywU4&t=4842s (the interview is in Russian)
"I don't like THAT censorship. Mine is fine."
I think you didn't get it right. The joke is that they go out of their way to not say anything offensive, knowing that the situation is tense, but they get arrested anyway.
The illustrations by Josef Lada are wonderful too, they are essential to the reading experience and imaginary world of the book.
The one I read was translated by Cecil Parrott (in 1973), but I learned there's a new translation (1997~) by a native Czech speaker: The Fateful Adventures of the Good Soldier Švejk During the World War, translated by Zdeněk "Zenny" Sadloň, in three volumes.
> Cecil Parrott deliberately anglicized the novel.. What is stunning is the poverty and one-dimensional lexical register of the translator’s mother tongue.
> Sir Cecil ultimately failed in rendering the “lazy argot”.. For example, he used the word “bastard” to render into English such varied words as “chlap” (sonofagun, guy, man), “kluk” (boy), “podlci” (moral degenerates), “lotry” (crooks), “sběř” (pack of rabble) and “pahejl” (stumpfoot).
> ..which translation you read will give you a different experience with the titular character, and the story in general. In short, the Sadlon translation gives the reader a novel with extraordinarily more depth and layers than the Parrot translation. ..Parrot’s vernacular obscures the subtleties and nuances that make a huge difference in what Hašek was communicating to the reader.
There's also automated DMCA carpet bombing. Tossup which is which in this case.
Pretty sure I've seen ads for exactly that kind of tour.
Might be a false memory. But in any case, it's my goal to do that sort of pilgrimage when I get to properly spend time in Czechia.
We also read Biedermann und die Brandstifter (The Fire Raisers/The Arsonists)[1], also by Brecht, which I remember somewhat more vividly. The main character is an ordinary guy who thinks he could never be fooled by arsonists, but allows a pair of them to fill his home with flammable material and ends up aiding them in his own demise. I worry that we have failed to learn the lessons of this kind of Nachkriegsliteratur (Post-WWII literature).
0: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schweik_in_the_Second_World_Wa...
Me: "Hello, do you have a copy of Švejk?"
Assistant: "No."
M: "Uh, OK, do you know of anyone that might?"
A: "No, no one has any Švejk right now!"
M: "I see. Is there any reason for that?"
A: "Everyone has already read it." walks off in a huff
It seemed somehow fitting. 'You can't read Švejk because everyone has already read it, and we're insulted you'd even ask for it in our bookshop.' There's a reason the Czech lands have given the rest of the world both Hašek and Kafka!
Now I realize it describes any sufficient evolved (i.e. broken) system, which might have been good enough excuse for the soviets not to make it verbotten.
I think it never occurred to censors that the satire of the book would transcend the Austro-Hungarian Empire and would work as a satire of a soviet bureaucracy just as well. This, it was widely available both in USSR and in other Eastern Block countries, and even had luxury editions, I still have one such edition.
It was my grandfather's favorite novel. He fought on the other side.
However, having compared the French translation to the original in Czech, I have to warn French-language readers that the translation was atrocious. As in, completely making up words and sentences that were not in the original. (Unfortunately, I know nothing about translations into English, and cannot recommend a good one.)
Interestingly, Milan Kundera wrote a book (in French) that I highly recommend [0]. He draws examples from many different artistic works to weave a fascinating story discussing to what extent we can or should stay faithful to the original intention of an artist or creator.
[0] https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/44382.Testaments_Betraye...
The English translation went through similar ordeals [2]. The more recent ones are presumably more faithful:
> The first translation by Paul Selver was heavily abridged, reducing the novel to about two thirds of its original length. Selver's translation also bowdlerized the original text, omitting paragraphs and occasionally pages that may have seemed offensive; despite this he has been praised for preserving some of the tension in the work between Literary and Common Czech.
[1] https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Les_Aventures_du_brave_soldat_...
[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Good_Soldier_%C5%A0vejk#Tr...
Czech "dobrého vojáka" is more "of brave (in `dashing` conotation) soldier".
So Hašek's humor starts right from the title.
Maybe Hasek intended a double meaning of "dobry vojak" as a) good-natured soldier and b) high-quality soldier (which would be sarcasm), but TBH the option b) just never occurred to me (I'm a native Czech speaker).
Is it really that broad? There are many examples, but none really deviates from "good". In pretty much everyone of them, I could just use "good" and it would work OK.
The only reference to "dobry" meaning "brave" is this:
> Cognate with Latvian dabravecis (“brave, prudent man”).
But Czech was likely not heavily influenced by Latvian.
Honestly, I think people should just stop assuming that if word X means Y in a Slavic language A, that it should have the same meaning in a Slavic language B. I see these kind of broken assumptions very often, but there are way too many false friends for this to work.
Maybe it's one of those things that you need to be an adult to appreciate. Unfortunately there's no lack of content nowadays, so I'm not sure I'll give the book another try.
Edit: I might add that this book and author had a similar sort of status on this side of the iron curtain as Joseph Heller and his military Catch-22 humor.
> having an singular language
What's that?
Second, languages had nothing to do with it. There was an idea that sacrificing a part of Czechoslovakia will be enough to keep Hitler at bay (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Munich_Agreement).
Languages had everything to do with it. "Bohemia became a part of Czechoslovakia, defying claims of the German-speaking inhabitants that regions with German-speaking majority should be included in the Republic of German-Austria."
The German-speaking inhabitants, that is a whole different story.
English is spoken pretty much everywhere. What's your point?
One of my favorite examples of a multi-ethnic state in Europe (kind of biased since I have some ancestry from there) is the Polish-Lithuanian commonwealth. That lasted a good long while with a mix of Balts, West Slavs, and East Slavs.
But the most ridiculous thing is that multiculturalism killed it. It was partitioned by foreign imperial powers, eg. split between Russia and Germanic powers.
And that, arguably, was one of the causes of its eventual demise - e.g. would Ukraine have rebelled if they didn't perceive themselves as second-class citizens in Rzeczpospolita? And if it didn't, would Russia be able to eventually take over half of Poland?
It might shape your view a bit
Czechs and Slovaks tend to underestimate the differences, because they largely understand each other. But that's to a large degree thanks to a large amount of interchange and exposure. These days, many young Czechs without exposure to Slovak often understand only very little Slovak.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Second_Czechoslovak_Republic
As an aside, hopefully the relative lack of support for Ukraine does not have similar outcomes. There are some significant similarities between the two.
The "support" Czechoslovakia received from the western allies was an order to capitulate to German demands.
As a reminder, this was the situation in 1938: https://hosting.photobucket.com/images/u314/erding/Cz_map_15...
The situation was much more hopeless than e.g. Ukraine was/is in. The Czech part was almost completely surrounded by Germany (controlling Austria and Silesia). Slovak part had a long border with Nazi-allied Hungary. Poland was not friendly at the time (taking part in the partition). The only kinda friendly neighbor was the tiny sliver of border in the east with Romania.
If the Czechoslovakia decided to fight, it would be accused of aggression by the western powers (who basically declared Germany is in the right in Munich).
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polish%E2%80%93Czechoslovak_bo...
I agree that the Czechoslovakian situation was less hopeful than that of Ukraine, at least for the moment.
Despite this, they still resisted at great personal cost. Heydrich was assassinated in Prague by Czech resistance fighters. The reprisals were brutal, with thousands killed in response. My grandmother who is still alive lived through this time. Every day at school they announced the names of those executed by the Natzis in order to intimidate the populace.
The whole Central European story is complicated. The countries were hashed and rehashed on fairly regular bases. Allegiances changed a lot. Leaders made serious mistakes. People were multidimensional.
Here's another quote restating the same info followed by a citation to Haslam, Jonathan (1983). Soviet Foreign Policy, 1930–33. The Impact of the Depression. New York: St. Martin's Press.:
"A new Czechoslovak cabinet, under General Jan Syrový, was installed and on 23 September a decree of general mobilization was issued which was accepted by the public with a strong enthusiasm – within 24 hours, one million men joined the army to defend the country. The Czechoslovak Army, modern, experienced and possessing an excellent system of frontier fortifications, was prepared to fight. The Soviet Union announced its willingness to come to Czechoslovakia's assistance"
Oh, and it was Czechoslovakia not Czechia. I'm curious why you're revising history yourself while questioning my sources.
The common soldiers speak Czech amongst themselves, German to the commanding officers, and a drunken old Polish colonel butchers both languages while giving them a pep talk.
There are also miscommunications with Hungarians and Tatars.
Central Europe is heavily multicultural and multilingual, even in 1914, but there are still strong national identities; because of, not despite.
Bratislava was 36% German, 33% Slovak and 29% Hungarian in the 1919 census. Now it's ~90% Slovak.
When Hašek wrote Švejk the Czechs were surrounded and influenced by vastly different nations—the crumbling remnants of the Austro-Hungarian Empire—which they were part of—the Russian Empire and Germany—both of which were in chaos after WWI. Even today they're still surrounded but at least now they're an independent nation with their own language so perhaps it's not surprising what comes out of them is quite unique.
It's quite some years since I saw Closely Watched Trains with English subtitles and it had a huge impact on me. It's one of those films that one cannot get out of one's mind for days. In its own understated way it's a great film and it's not surprising that it was a Czech production. Its ending upset me greatly because whilst its story was fiction, it reminded me of similar tragic scenarios that were played out for real many times during WWII (it seems to me one of the purposes of the film was to remind us of the fact).
BTW, when I first went to Czechoslovakia it was still under communist rule and the only practical (easiest) way to get from Vienna to Prague was by train from Franz-Josefs-Bahnhof and Emperor Franz Joseph Railway line. For some reason seeming known to the communists we had to use this single track line instead of the more modern dual track line via Brüno. I mention it because the Franz Joseph Railway was a once-in-a-lifetime experience to travel on, the track was in such terrible condition that one thought the train would derail any moment and the train only did about 30km/h max. After Communism fell the track via Brüno was opened up and although a much longer route the trip only took half as long.
I was not yet 13 when the no-longer-Communist Czechoslovak government liberalized the prices. Back then, I was profoundly unsettled by the idea that the same loaf of bread could cost a different amount of money in two different stores.
It felt as unnatural as having multiple birthdays.
Ha, right. That brings back memories from when I was living and working in Vienna. When walking by building or construction sites around the city one would often come across bricks that were several centuries old and one could tell this because the molds from which the bricks were made had the coat of arms of whomever Hapsburg/Archduchy ruler of Austria was in power at the time embossed into them, thus bricks produced from them are time capsules time-stamped with the era from which they came.
It was commonplace to see bricks made, say, in the time of Archduchess Maria Theresa who—as we're talking about Czechoslovakia—was also Queen of Bohemia around the time of the Silesian Wars/Battle for Prague. (It seems to me the many wars in and around Bohemia over the centuries only adds to the point about why the Czechs are the way they are; essentially wars and politics likely framed Hašek's worldview and thus Švejk.)
Anyway, it had been my intension to souvenir one of these bricks in pristine condition and bring it back home to display on my mantelpiece but unfortunately I never quite got around to it. :-)
For me, one thing that truly stood out in Czechoslovakia under Communism which was in stark contrast with noncommunist countries was the lack advertising and billboards on streets and roadways and that was especially evident in big cities such as Prague.
Moreover, when I first went to Prague it seemed to me that I was stepping back in time as communist Prague had been preserved as a beautiful 18th Century city because the communists had done very little modernization during their time in power; that was also the situation for much of the country, witness my comment about the woefull state of the Emperor Franz Joseph Railway.
I recall reading somewhere the reason for why the 1984 movie Amadeus, which was about Mozart and his rival Salieri, was filmed in Prague, and it was because its center remained so much like it was in the 1780s as that was the period in which the film was set. The film's producers specifically made the point that the lack of visible advertising and billboards was one† of the primary reasons for choosing the city. That's not the situation now, not long after Communism fell Prague began to look like other Western cities, which to me seems like a shame.
That lack of modernization and not keeping up with best practice under Communism wasn't all positive. The crawling, almost walking speed of train trips on the Franz Joseph Railway line and various trips by car allowed me to spend much time looking out of windows at the countryside. On the train at some short distance south of Prague I recall seeing pollution from what seemed to be a cement factory. For miles around tree leaves were covered with a dirty cement-colored dust which gave the nearby countryside a horrible yellow-grayish appearance.
I may be wrong but after viewing both cities and countryside and talking with those who lived there I formed the opinion that back then this sort 'malaise' was reasonably widespread over much of the country. Nowadays, that's changed much for the better.
_
† Others were that Prague holds relevance for the story in that its present architecture is similar to Vienna of the 18th C. which made for an authentic backdrop, and that in the 1780s Mozart's Don Giovanni was deemed too salacious and sleazy for conservative Viennese society and had to have its premiere performance in more liberal Prague.
Surely the director of Amedeus – Miloš Forman – being Czech played a role too.
It is much easier to cooperate with the local crew in their native language, relative to Hungarian / German (IIRC Budapest / Vienna were the other two options on the table for that film).
> It was commonplace to see bricks made, say, in the time of Archduchess Maria Theresa
If you visit the cellar of an old house in Old Town / Lesser Town, chances are you'll find bricks much older than Maria Theresa. These cellars routinely date back to the original construction, 11-14th century (unlike the house on top, which has typically been rebuilt several times to match the latest fashion – gothic, baroque, rococo, etc).
Whether or not they let you take a brick home is a different matter :)
It's almost certain he played a key role.
As background, I'll preface my comment by saying that I was once employed on the engineering side of the television industry, and the place where I worked was closely connected to film production, the complex included film labs that processed Eastman color stock for theater release and allied to it were film studios, so it's inevitable that I picked up some knowhow about what goes on during a film production.
Other than having seen Amadeus, (which I rather enjoyed but still hold several strong criticisms about despite its many Oscars), and the few snippets I've read about the film, I've no direct knowledge of its production per se, but I'd say that as its director Miloš Forman almost certainly would have had full oversight and a controlling say in all aspects of its production (as do most directors of any film).
Despite my background, I'm not really a strong film buff so I've no deep interest in the production minutiae of films but I took somewhat more interest in Amadeus than with most because of its story. I'm a long time enjoyer of classical music and I'm familiar with much of Mozart's and some of Salieri's music. I accept the modern view that their relationship was often more collaborative and there was little animosity or rivalry between them. In the relationship Mozart, if anyone, was likely the bigger problem, as he had a penchant thinking people were against him. There's some evidence that Salieri kept a watchful eye on Mozart, and as a fellow composer why wouldn't he do so as did Hayden and others? There's essentially no solid evidence that Salieri poisoned Mozart—only ill-founded rumors. In fact, evidence suggests he died of a combination one of the winter illnesses doing the rounds of Vienna at the time and a concoction of dangerous medicines (if Mozart was poisoned then the most likely culprit was his local apothecary).
Even before the idea of the film was born, it's almost certain that as a Czech Forman would have had a priori understandings about Prague that would have come to the fore when he learned he'd be directing the film. It's reasonable to assume he'd have immediately recognized that Prague would make an ideal readymade backdrop for the film. Its historical center was ideal from a production standpoint, it was of historical significance for the film and its old unaltered architecture could easily substitute for scenes in Vienna and Salzburg.
Moreover, I'd reckon it's highly likely (probably almost certain) that Forman was well aware of Mozart's close connection with Prague long before he'd read Peter Shaffer' stage play. It'd be difficult for him not to know, as Prague takes considerable pride that Don Giovanni, which is widely accepted as one of the greatest operas ever written and still a very popular† and still widely performed, had its premiere in the city in 1787 in the Bohemian National Theater (now the Estates Theatre). (I couldn't miss that fact when I first visited Prague as there was mention of it everywhere.)
"If you visit the cellar of an old house in Old Town / Lesser Town, chances are you'll find bricks much older than Maria Theresa."
Right. I've spent many an hour in such 'establishments' getting somewhat lightheaded (to put it politely) and I've made a practice of looking at their construction and becoming acquainted with their history and age. Where I come from (Australia) indigenous stuff is ancient but nothing of European influence is more than a bit over 200 years old so by comparison just about everywhere in Europe seems very old; in many places I've visited there's a surfeit of ancient buildings, they seem to be everywhere, we have nothing like that here. No doubt, to native inhabitants it's just the norm and they take it in their stride. However, for me the age and historical nature of these old buildings remains a novelty and they always pique my interest even though I've been to Europe many times and lived and worked there for periods.
"Whether or not they let you take a brick home is a different matter :)"
Ha, I doubt it. As an arch conservationist, it was never my thought to remove anything that was fixed in place, I recall once sitting on 2000-year-old bricks in the Colosseum and the thought never crossed my mind, what did however was that I was actually sitting on them and that no one else except me was the least bit interested in the matter.
Why would I remember that? Well, down here, we have social phenomenon—or at least we used to called the cultural cringe: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cultural_cringe. It's not as common these days as large sections of the community have come from Europe and elsewhere, and nowadays travel to Europe is commonplace, but it was alive and well when I was a kid and it rubbed off onto many of my generation (but it affected our parents and earlier generations to a much greater degree because few had the opportunity and means to travel). Like many of us, when I first went to Europe decades ago I thought I'd finally made it, my education was on its way to competition. Incidentally, sometimes it's still a sore point with older people who've never traveled.
The phenomenon is understandable in that before WWII the local culture here was profoundly British and the population was acutely aware that it was living in an outpost 12,000 miles from its cultural home of Mother England even though the vast majority had never been there. After the War that changed somewhat after several waves of European migration and later migration from Asia but native born Australians still knew they were missing out on experiencing the real thing—that of gaining actual hands-on knowledge of their cultural heritage and that it was important for them to make the pilgrimage.
Re: 'Maria Theresa' bricks, they had a particular resonance for me as I've long had an interest in the Enlightenment era and that I was living in one of the cultural capitals of the world. Also they weren't rare, there were many loose ones just lying about at various building and construction sites around Vienna. Moreover, I wasn't alone, a colleague, one of my fellow countrymen, would also hunt them down with gusto.
Clearly familiarity breeds indifference, such mundane historical artifacts like bricks seem to hold little interest for the locals but for us renegades from the cultural cringe they're considered prised finds. ;-)
On a similar theme I recall an occasion where I saw a nice old 18th Century single storey brick building in Kleine Neugasse near Wiedner Hauptstraße not far from where I was living at the time being torn down to make way for a modern structure. I was rather horrified at what I considered vandalism, which, to me, was all the more poignant due to the fact that nearby significant numbers of old buildings had been bomb-damaged during the War and out of necessity they'd been rapidly replaced with new ones of little architectural merit. I remember whingeing about it to my landlady over lunch at a nearby café. She wasn't the least concerned and couldn't understand why I was upset about it.
__
† Don Giovanni is also a favorite of mine, why wouldn't it be? It has appeal even for those who aren't opera buffs; it's salacious in parts and righteous in others, it's full of sex, promiscuity, seduction, rape, murder, revenge, arrogance, hubris, rejection of salvation and damnation—even a ghostly appearance from the murdered Commendatore! What else is there? The opera captures much of the human condition to a tee!
No wonder the conservative Viennese establishment banished it to Prague! Also, Don Giovanni tells us a lot about the liberal-minded rebellious attitudes of both Mozart and his librettist, Da Ponte. (BTW, Whenever we discuss Mozart's operas we usually leave Da Ponte out of the discussion. We shouldn't however, for without the Mozart-Da Ponte collaboration Don Giovanni would never have been the true and continuing success that it's been over the past few centuries).
Why do you think Hasek did you a disservice?
Starting with the avant-garde movements of the 20's, through the communism era (Hasek was a socialist and a communist) to this day, we've been essentially saying Svejk characterizes the true nature of what it means to be a Czech. You literally hear school teachers tell their students a drunk devious simpleton is considered a role model.
The topic is quite complex, there's more history and politics involved, but I'm not going there.
Disclaimer: By no means am I criticizing the book or people who like it.
Lots of drinking, stealing, fist fighting, long winded anecdotes (with plenty of embellishments) telling lies to get into / out of trouble, and ethnic humour reflecting the attitudes which were typical of the imperial period: Germans/Austrians look down on Czechs, Czechs resent the Germans and are unfriendly with Hungarians, the imperial soldiers harass Jews (who get them back in various ways) and there is a scene where the Czechs in military jail are practicing their Russian: for an assumed surrender at the front.
From wikipedia > The platform of the candidate for the Vinorhady election district, Jaroslav Hašek, consisted of seven points:[16]
The reintroduction of slavery.
The nationalization of janitors ("similar to how it is in Russia [...], where every janitor is simultaneously a police informer").
The rehabilitation of animals.
The institutionalization of feeble-minded MPs.
The reintroduction of the Inquisition.
Judicial immunity for priests and the Church ("In cases where a schoolgirl is deflowered by a priest").
The mandatory introduction of alcoholism.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Fix7P6aGXQ (Uzbek artist)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_7pSztJFomE (Circassian artist)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ugivNRYfjc (Russian artist — for the taxi driving character introduced at 3:30)
these are all from about a decade back; there's no doubt been much more since...
(I must admit I ♥ the MC Doni lyric: "إن شاء الله или c'est la vie". Anyone know of a lyrical line that beats it, either with four languages, or scripts written in three different directions [r-to-l, l-to-r, u-to-d?], etc?)
I'm not trying to be an apologist for him. Rather, I'd like to encourage people to learn a bit more about him and his environment before jumping to conclusions based on a single point in his life.
He didn't become a Communist until about 1918.
The most you can say is that he had a complex life.