“A book should be an axe to chop open the frozen sea inside us.”
Source: Summertime
Letter to Oskar Pollak http://www.languagehat.com/archives/001062.php (27 January 1904)
Variant translations:
If the book we are reading does not wake us, as with a fist hammering on our skulls, then why do we read it? Good God, we also would be happy if we had no books and such books that make us happy we could, if need be, write ourselves. What we must have are those books that come on us like ill fortune, like the death of one we love better than ourselves, like suicide. A book must be an ice axe to break the sea frozen inside us.
What we need are books that hit us like a most painful misfortune, like the death of someone we loved more than we love ourselves, that make us feel as though we had been banished to the woods, far from any human presence, like a suicide. A book must be the ax for the frozen sea within us.
A book should be an ice-axe to break the frozen sea within us.
A book must be an ice-axe to break the seas frozen inside our soul.
A book should serve as the ax for the frozen sea within us.
Variant: A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us.
Context: I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound and stab us. If the book we are reading doesn't wake us up with a blow on the head, what are we reading it for?... we need the books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us.
Ein Buch muß die Axt sein für das gefrorene Meer in uns.
An Oskar Pollak, 27. Januar 1904. In: Briefe 1902-1924, Hrsg. Max Brod, S. Fischer, Frankfurt/Main 1966, S. 28 books.google.de https://books.google.de/books?hl=de&id=R1YoAQAAMAAJ&dq=%22Ein+Buch+mu%C3%9F+die+Axt+sein+f%C3%BCr+das+gefrorene+Meer+in+uns.%22
Briefe
Variant: Ich glaube, man sollte überhaupt nur solche Bücher lesen, die einen beißen und stechen. Wenn das Buch, das wir lesen, uns nicht mit einem Faustschlag auf den Schädel weckt, wozu lesen wir dann das Buch? Damit es uns glücklich macht, wie Du schreibst? Mein Gott, glücklich wären wir eben auch, wenn wir keine Bücher hätten, und solche Bücher, die uns glücklich machen, könnten wir zur Not selber schreiben. Wir brauchen aber die Bücher, die auf uns wirken wie ein Unglück, das uns sehr schmerzt, wie der Tod eines, den wir lieber hatten als uns, wie wenn wir in Wälder verstoßen würden, von allen Menschen weg, wie ein Selbstmord, ein Buch muß die Axt sein für das gefrorene Meer in uns. Das glaube ich.
Variant: […] ein Buch muß die Axt sein für das gefrorene Meer in uns.
Source: Letters to Friends, Family, and Editors
“A book should be an axe to chop open the frozen sea inside us.”
Source: Summertime
in a letter from Sandviken to Gustave Geffroy, 26 February 1895 (L. 1274); as cited in: Steven Z. Levine, Claude Monet (1994), Monet, Narcissus, and Self-Reflection: The Modernist Myth of the Self. p. 93
1890 - 1900
1970s, How do we tell truths that might hurt? (1975)
“The Book of the science of Mechanics must precede the Book of useful inventions.”
The Notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci (1883), I Prolegomena and General Introduction to the Book on Painting
"Books and Men" in Boston Medical and Surgical Journal (1901).
“Where there is no pitsand, we must use the kinds washed up by rivers or by the sea”
Source: De architectura (The Ten Books On Architecture) (~ 15BC), Book I, Chapter II, Sec. 8
Context: Economy denotes the the proper management of materials and of site, as well as a thrifty balancing of cost and common sense in the construction of works.... the architect does not demand things which cannot be found or made ready without great expense. For example: it is not everywhere that there is plenty of pitsand, rubble, fir, clear fir, and marble... Where there is no pitsand, we must use the kinds washed up by rivers or by the sea... and other problems we must solve in similar ways.
Reported in Josiah Hotchkiss Gilbert, Dictionary of Burning Words of Brilliant Writers (1895), p. 386.