Beware of Pity

Some people consider Stefan Zweig’s book, ‘Beware of Pity’, to be his greatest novel. While I consider this novel to be magnificent, I much prefer his other book, ‘Chess.’
The story concerns the tale of Lt (later Captain) Hofmiller, posted to a dreary Austrian town, and how he starts to visit the home of the town’s richest family, the Kekesfalvas. Herr von Kekesfalva has a crippled daughter, Edith. Our hero becomes a fixture at the Kekesfalva household, and Edith falls passionately in love with him.
Stefan Zweig based his book on the premise that there are two kinds of pity, one that is feeble, sentimental, and corrosive, while the second type is unsentimental and constructive. Indeed, Edith’s doctor, Dr. Condor, embodies show more the second type of behavior, as we see in his relationship with his blind wife.
Stefan Zweig wrote the book in the first person, so we know what happens inside the hero’s brain and how his emotions get the better of him. I will not write about the book’s conclusion because it would spoil it for many readers. However, while the title speaks of pity and not cowardice, Lt. Hofmiller’s behavior embodies self-pity, cowardice, and weakness. He embodies the personality of a man who cannot, and will not, stand for his principles, if he has any.
It is rare that I have felt less sympathy for a hero than I did after reading this novel by Stefan Zweig.
He wrote the book in the style of the times, with long passages devoted to the hero’s inner struggles, thoughts, and conflicting emotions. Unlike our past-paced times, where sensations bombard us constantly, leaving us with less time for reflection, a vastly reduced desire to read patiently, Stefan Zweig’s book requires patient reading.
Having said that, I felt that a few passages in the book’s center could have been shortened: we know what is going through Hofmiller’s head, and it is only because he is a character in a novel that we cannot shake him by the collar and ask him to develop courage and honor!
While yes, the book deals with both kinds of pity, the book also deals with moral turpitude and cowardice, perhaps unintentionally.
Will the book attract a modern reader? A few, maybe, just a few show less

Leer a Zweig siempre me produce una sensación catártica. Su manera de escribir es tan cristalina, y su descripción de los sentimientos más profundos tan delicada y acertada, que quedas fascinado sin remedio; tu alma queda totalmente impregnada de todas las vivencias de los personajes. Y uno no puede dejar de pensar en cómo pueden conocerse tan bien los sentimientos y, por qué no, también los pensamientos de las personas.

Por pura casualidad, el escritor de esta historia se encuentra en Viena con un conocido; ambos están es un restaurante por diferentes motivos. Este amigo ve también en el mismo local a otro conocido suyo, un militar altamente condecorado en la Gran Guerra, todo un héroe, del cuál empezará a contar las más show more variopintas historias, de tal modo que nuestro escritor, un trasunto de Zweig, y viendo también la reacción de este personaje, que les lanza unas miradas nada amistosas, quedará fascinado al instante. Será cuando el escritor se quede a solas cuando dicho personaje se acerque a él para sacarle de la cabeza todas las historias descabelladas que el otro haya podido contarle. Y es que no es oro todo lo que reluce y lo que pueda parecer valentía puede no ser más que otro tipo de cobardía. A lo largo de los próximos días, este personaje irá desgranando toda su trágica historia; y es aquí donde comienza realmente la novela, pasando a ser el narrador el militar, es decir, el teniente Anton Hofmiller…

Año 1913, estamos a las puertas de la Gran Guerra, algo insospechado por el momento, y el teniendo de caballería Hofmiller está destacado cerca de Viena y Budapest, pasando el tiempo entre práctica y práctica jugando a las cartas con sus compañeros. Hasta que un día, inesperadamente, reciba una invitación para visitar el castillo de Lajos von Kekesfalva, cuya hija sufre una enfermedad. Por cosas del destino, Hofmiller provocará un percance relacionado con Edith Kekesfalva. Este accidente acarreará toda una serie de historias, en las que se verán involucrados los sentimientos de los Kekesfalva y la compasión de Hofmiller, participando también en todo ello el doctor de la familia, Condor.

Citando la introducción de Zweig:

"Hay dos clases de piedad. Una, débil y sentimental, que en realidad sólo es impaciencia del corazón para liberarse lo antes posible de la penosa emoción ante una desgracia ajena, es una compasión que no es exactamente compasión, sino una defensa instintiva del alma frente al dolor ajeno. Y la otra, la única que cuenta, es la compasión desprovista de los sentimental, pero creativa, que sabe lo que quiere y está dispuesta a aguantar con paciencia y resignación hasta sus últimas fuerzas e incluso más allá."

Y realmente es así, porque esa impaciencia del corazón está muy presente en todo el libro y en todos los personajes: en Anton y su compasión por Edith y su padre; en la misma Edith, impaciente en obtener lo imposible a toda costa; en Kekesfalva, impaciente por la salud de su hija; en Ilona, la amiga que hace compañía a Edith, impaciente por su pronto restablecimiento; en el doctor Condor, impaciente por que todo siga como estaba, ya que su impaciencia ya le atrapó en su momento; en los compañeros de Anton, impacientes porque éste parece haberles dejado de lado por sus nuevos "amigos"...

Stefan Zweig plasma todos estos sentimientos en una obra perfecta en su construcción, que te obliga a acompañarle en un viaje que no te deja indiferente y que te deja una huella indeleble a su término. show less

'Beware of Pity' has a stark title and is not an easy novel to read. It examines pride, shame, sympathy, and disability with nuanced intensity. I often found the level of emotional anguish, which could also be characterised as mental instability, uncomfortable. The story is told by Anton (Toni) Hofmiller, a young officer, and set shortly before the first world war. Bored by his job and military companions, Toni is invited to dinner by a rich man and meets the man's disabled daughter and her cousin. After making an excruciating social faux pas at the dinner, he befriends the family and becomes enmeshed in their claustrophobic household. He enjoys their admiration, pleasant companionship, and luxurious lifestyle, until he starts to find show more their idolisation oppressive.

I found it fascinating that Toni, living in a wholly masculine milieu that he dislikes, is shown to be constantly swayed not just by his own emotions but those of others. He is highly sensitive, which isn't what one might expect from an army officer in his twenties. He can fit in with his jocular, womanising fellow officers, but doesn't enjoy doing so. His responsiveness to persuasion and social pressure was sometimes shocking; it seemed to hover between empathy and weakness of character. He appeared remarkably unguarded and very easily buoyed or crushed by the perceptions of others. I found this behaviour striking, yet hard to understand as I am quite peer pressure resistant myself. His story demonstrates how a well-meant gesture can turn into an entrapping pattern. His dynamic with Edith, whose legs are paralysed, invites questions about the nature of pity. When does sympathy become pity - when it lacks empathy and understanding? Does Toni infantalise and objectify Edith? Zweig's narrative gives her much more depth and agency than many a Victorian invalid character. While her emotions and actions are often extreme, they appear sadly understandable in context.

There is a pervasive gendered dynamic throughout the story of men pitying women without respecting them, to the detriment of both parties. Kekesfalva exhibits this with his wife and daughter; Dr Condor with his wife; Toni with Edith. The narrative allows these men to explain their feelings in more depth than the women, although the reader is shown glimpses of Edith's fraught inner life via letters. Kekesfalva attempts to redeem himself for earlier misdeeds by indulging his wife and later his daughter with expensive luxury. Edith lives in secluded comfort, but is evidently lonely, bored, and intensely frustrated by her disability. Dr Condor's wife appears likewise frustrated and angered by her inequality with her overworked husband. Condor is easily the most self-aware and emotionally mature character, which allows him considerable influence over Kekesfalva, Toni, and Edith.

Suicide is a theme throughout, made even more unsettling by Zweig's own suicide with his wife only a few years after 'Beware of Pity' was published. The psychology of all the novel's characters has an extremity to it, a fatalistic sense that death can be the only escape. Toni's careful preparations for killing himself are absolutely chilling to read. By that point, he has become engaged to Edith without wanting to, out of sheer reluctance to upset her, then denied his engagement while drunk with fellow officers. His commanding officer convinces him that the dishonour of this situation can be salvaged. Alas, it is too late. Edith has already heard of Toni's denial and, heartbroken, kills herself. As she has tried to do so twice before, and threatened it since then, such a horrific denouement isn't surprising. Her earlier intensities of feeling and extremes of behaviour suggest what might now be diagnosed as bipolar disorder. The tale ends with Toni surviving the trenches of the First World War, to find his earlier shame forgotten by everyone except him. A bleak ending indeed. Although Zweig is a brilliant and compelling writer, I cannot say that I enjoyed this novel. I loved [b:The Post-Office Girl|2376087|The Post-Office Girl|Stefan Zweig|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1347760549l/2376087._SY75_.jpg|2382997], a spectacular yet unfinished book that the reader can impute their own ending to. 'Beware of Pity' has a definitively tragic conclusion that I won't soon forget. Although the title gives a specific moral message, the text suggests that all emotions can be dangerous if felt with sufficient intensity. show less

The Short of It:

A strange, interesting read.

The Rest of It:

"In 1913, Hofmiller, an Austro-Hungarian cavalry officer stationed at the edge of the empire, is invited to a party at the home of a rich local landowner, a world away from the dreary routine of the barracks. The surroundings are glamorous, wine flows freely, and the exhilarated young Hofmiller asks his host’s lovely daughter for a dance, only to discover that sickness has left her painfully crippled. It is a minor blunder that will destroy his life, as pity and guilt gradually implicate him in a well-meaning but tragically wrongheaded plot to restore the unhappy invalid to health." ~ the publisher

This delicate blunder completely ruins Hofmiller. His innocent invitation to show more dance is repeated in his head over and over again. He sees the stricken look of the girl as she reveals the current state of her legs. After such a faux pas, and his desire to be included in the lives these people lead, he finds himself trying to please Edith any way he can, until he realizes that her only reason for living, is the love she has for him. There is no reciprocation in this regard.

My club chose this book for this month’s meeting and it is indeed very interesting and I feel that there will be plenty to discuss. It reads like a high brow soap opera and I don’t mean that in a negative way. It’s very episodic and dramatic and Edith is quite the femme fatale. as well as Daddy’s “little” girl. She is a young woman who is not used to being told “No”. What she wants, she usually gets so the push/pull of Hofmiller’s relationship with her is one that completely absorbs his every thought.

How can Hofmiller remain in good standing with Edith’s father, and the good Dr. Condor when he cares not one iota for the girl? Why does he even feel it necessary?

Pity. It’s all about pity. The title of the book makes it very clear. Pity can cause you to do all sorts of foolish things. It affects the way you make decisions but others use it to manipulate those around them. Manipulation, guilt, pity, grief. All topics for discussion. Edith is a frustrating character, but in her defense, she is promised over and over again that the next treatment will do the trick. She hangs onto hope because those around her continue to stoke the fire.

I found this book to be rather entertaining, if not a tad exhausting. Much of it was very fast paced. Hofmiller running here, and there and then back again. His interactions with other soldiers, providing a much needed break. All of it interspersed with parties and gatherings and dinners.

I enjoyed the writing very much. We get to know each character’s intentions quite well. I will say also that one part of the story took me by surprise and it changed my outlook on many things. Lots of food for thought.

For more reviews, visit my blog: Book Chatter. show less

'that compassionate lie had made her happy, and to make someone happy can never be wrong or a crime',, July 1, 2014

This review is from: Beware of Pity (Kindle Edition)
This is the story of a dashing young Austrian lieutenant, just prior to the first World War. Stationed on the Hungarian border, he is thrilled to be invited to the castle of a wealthy local family, but bemused when his request to the daughter of the house for a dance is greeted by copious weeping. When he discovers his faux pas - she's a cripple - he feels obliged to send her flowers. And thus begins his link to the family - 'my strange case of poisoning of pity'. For as his feelings of duty and honour are taken to mean much more by the lame Edith, the weak and show more vacillating Lt Hofmiller is torn between shame before his colleagues at the possible match and his desire to do the right thing. As he is warned:

'Pity is a double-edged weapon. If you don't know how to handle it you had better not touch it, and above all you must steel your heart against it. Pity, like morphine, does the sick good only at first...if you don't get the dose right and know where to stop it becomes a murderous poison.'

A brilliantly written novel; like his other work, 'The Post Office Girl', Zweig keeps you reading to the end, uncertain how the story will work out. show less

This is a curious novel from the pen of Stefan Zweig who tells the story of a young Austrian cavalry officer, Anton Hofmiller, who befriends a local millionaire, Kekesfalva, and his family, but in particular the old man's crippled daughter, Edith, with terrible consequences. Stefan Zweig was a prolific biographer, short story writer, and is noted today mainly for his autobiography, The World of Yesterday.

Before the First World War, Anton Hofmiller, a young Austrian officer from a modest background, finds himself stationed in a town where he knows few people. He obtains an invitation to the home of the richest local family and, at the end of the evening, realizes he has not spent time with their attractive daughter, Edith. He invites her show more to dance, but realizes – to everyone’s horror – that she is sitting in a wheelchair and can’t even stand. This, he believes, is the worst faux pas imaginable, and he flees. But he is given another chance, which he eagerly accepts. To be nice he starts spending more and more time with the family, focusing on Edith, keeping her company – keeping himself company too. The relationship between them seems almost balanced at first. She’s sweet, if a bit over-eager for his attention. It is the father, though, who compels Hofmiller to involve himself more, to help find treatment for her condition, to lie to her about its effectiveness, to let her believe she has a chance of recovery. It’s all, of course, in the name of keeping her happy. Hofmiller’s eagerness to please, Edith’s father’s eagerness to please – beyond what is practical or real – subtly becomes a ticking bomb of anxiety. Where it naturally leads is to Hofmiller’s proposal of marriage. A good soldier, he will do everything he can but the denouement is devastating for Edith and Hofmiller goes off to war.

The message of the book is not only the ostensible one – that pity is an emotion that can cause great ruin – but also that we must not judge things by appearances. This is a lesson that the narrator has learned and the reader can appreciate from his experience reading this magnificent novel. show less

Imposible no disfrutar de la pluma de Zweig, sin duda el hombre tenía magia en las manos, un don increíble para las letras, para transmitir y contar historias.

No he leído todos sus libros, me faltan muchos, pero todo lo que he leído de él hasta el momento, no me defrauda, siempre me deja con ese sentimiento de profunda admiración hacia quien puede escribir cosas tan bien hechas y con una capacidad para mostrar sentimientos reales, profundos y naturales.

Escrito 3 años antes de su muerte, durante una época convulsa en su Austria de nacimiento, primero es destacable que Zweig dentro de la historia principal deja entrever su opinión personal sobre lo que sucedía en esos momentos, politica y socialmente, inevitable darse cuenta de show more la manera en que pinta la sociedad hipócrita, orgullosa pero también un racismo encubierto hacia una raza que conocería lo peor del odio en la II Guerra mundial.

Sin embargo no es de lo que trata el libro si no de la cobardía de un hombre orgulloso, que se quiere engrandecer ante sí mismo con actos aparentemente compasivos cuando lo que lo mueve es egolatría, un orgullo mal encaminado y una falta de real compasión como pocas he visto.

Si bien, nuestro protagonista nos relata en primera persona toda su historia, sus sentimientos, sus miedos y cobardía, puede ser tratado y visto como un hombre inmaduro, manipulado incluso, es inevitable ver lo que es realmente y dentro de la última frase de este libro se encierra la enorme verdad de lo acontecido en toda la historia.

Realmente Zweig ha retratado una situación de manera cruda y real, una mujer incapacitada, un padre que ama profundamente, un hombre que se ve enmedio de una situación que él mismo se buscó y que a cada paso proyecta la cobardía que lleva dentro y que al final aprende una lección y tendrá que vivir con ella.

Me ha encantado este libro, Zweig no defrauda y te deja sin duda alguna con un buen sabor de boca. A diferencia de lo que nos tiene acostumbrados, este libro tiene más de 100 páginas, pero no se asusten, vale la pena cada una de las más de 400 páginas y sin duda tiene unas frases dignas de subrayarse. show less