Scum of the Earth

Scum of the Earth

Arthur Koestler

Language: English

Pages: 253

ISBN: 0907871496

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


A new edition of Arthur Koestler's gripping tale of arrest, imprisonment, and subsequent escape to London from Nazi-occupied France.

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My Brief History

White Boots and Miniskirts

A Little History of My Forest Life: An Indian-White Autobiography

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‘But for the comrades here it is different. You had better come back,’ he said to the three of us, and Yankel, Poddach, and I followed him somewhat regretfully, but without argument. In the electric light inside I saw that Mario’s hair was half grey, although he did not seem more than thirty. The straw was damp and Poddach had installed himself next to me, keeping me awake with his damnable coughing and moaning, which sounded like a death-rattle. IV Not all the soldiers were as talkative

be considered as politically suspect with reference to paragraph X of the loi des suspects.’ Then there was Uetzli, a Swiss lad of seventeen, who had run away from his parents’ farm near Berne to enlist as a volunteer in the French Army. On his arrival in Paris he walked down from the Gare de l’Est to the Opéra, as he had heard that this was a famous building and he wanted to have a look at it before he became a soldier. So he had his look and then approached a policeman in front of the Café de

in the camp who, though not a British subject, had some backing in this country. A few days before I left Vernet, the Voelkischer Beobachter had published an article on the French concentration camps and had ironically asked whether the English friends who had obtained my release from Franco’s jail would do the same thing for me now. They did. It happened all of a sudden. At 3 p.m. on January 17th I was still emptying the latrine-bins of Section C, without knowing anything; at 7 p.m. on the same

imperialist war. Oh, they had an explanation ready for every occasion, from the extension of capital punishment to the twelve-year-old to the abolition of the Soviet workers’ right to strike and to the one-party-election-system; they called it ‘revolutionary dialectics’ and reminded one of those conjurers on the stage who can produce an egg from every pocket of their frockcoats and even out of the harmless onlooker’s nose. They explained everything so well that, during a committee meeting, old

francs to the Co-operative, which was a private enterprise run by the great landowners, monopolising the market. When the Popular Front came to power, it created the Office du Blé, run directly by the Government, which, by cutting out intermediary profits, paid the farmers 180 francs instead of 70. Whereupon Doriot’s paper, sent gratis to every small farmer, started a campaign: ‘The Government steals your money—ask them for 200 instead of 180.’ … Lebras (in his slow, stammering manner, smiling

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