By Bertha von Suttner
"¡Abajo las armas!" es l. a. biografía de ficción de una mujer a quien l. a. guerra le ha arrebatado dos maridos. Un relato naturalista de las campañas bélicas de 1859, 1864, 1866 y 1870/1871. Una implacable descripción de los horrores y odios, cuando no injusticias, que provocan los conflictos armados. Bertha von Suttner pone de relieve l. a. angustia de las mujeres cuyos maridos e hijos perdían los angeles vida o quedaban mutilados en el campo de batalla. Pero también cuestiona a una sociedad que considera virtudes positivas el coraje combativo y el orgullo de ser soldado; también a los Estados que periódicamente lanzan a l. a. Humanidad a un baño de sangre bajo pretextos como los angeles dignidad, el patriotismo o los angeles propia defensa.
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But the main thing was the absolute loneliness. ” “I’m serious. Quite the usual story. Qui se marie par amour a bonnes nuits et mauvais jours. But as for me, I had very little of either one. ” She was silent for a long time. Some Chaplin imitator in a derby cocked to one side, wearing absurdly oversized shoes that were in shreds, was scuttling, legs widespread, across the screen. “Yes, it must be quite lonely for you,” she said. “It is. But what can you do, you have to live and bear it. ” “Yes, not the happiest of remedies.
He served in the White Army. ” “I could tell that right away. You’re probably a general,” she said, smiling. “Once was. Now I’m writing the history of those wars for a number of foreign publishing houses . . ” “They say there’s some remarkable film showing now at the Etoile. Would you like to go see it? ” “Merci. ” “Well then, we’ll go on Monday. What’s today? Saturday? So then, that makes it the day after tomorrow. ” “All right. ” “No, I’m going out of town to visit some people. ” “I don’t know.
Even for a long time after that a single thought of you and her, of your intimacy with her, would scorch me like red-hot iron. It’s understandable. Well, say a man, for example, takes your ﬁancée away from you—that’s still tolerable. But your mistress, or, in our case, your wife! The one, excuse my frankness, with whom I’ve slept, whose every feature of body and soul I know like the back of my hand! Just think what scope there is here for the jealous imagination. How can you bear another’s possessing her?