Стефан

A doctor of economic and political sciences, who once studied civil engineering in Czechoslovakia and law in Sofia, but did not become either a civil engineer or a lawyer, who took the first doctorate in political economy at Sofia University, an unknown scholar one day - about ten years ago - showed the manuscript of his voluminous novel. At a time when three or four novels were published a year, all by established and famous authors, this young man had dared to test his strength nowhere else, but in one of the most difficult literary genres - the historical novel, - which eminent writers not only in our country but also elsewhere, not only now, but also in the past had not found the courage to touch! ... But on the other hand, how few writers of all ages and professions are seized by the ambition to show such audacity?

In 1942, the world-famous writer Stefan Zweig committed suicide in Brazil at the age of sixty-one. The reasons for this, as is often the case with the suicides of true artists, were of a spiritual nature. The writer outlined them in his deathbed confession. Here they are: "To begin my life again at the age of sixty - this requires special strength. And mine have been exhausted during the long years of homeless wanderings. That is why I think it is best to leave life in due time and with dignity, in which the supreme good for me was personal freedom and intellectual work that gave me immense joy. I congratulate all my friends. It is possible that they will see the dawn after this long night. I, the most impatient, am leaving earlier than them. Amidst the fanfare of military victories, amidst the bristled human hatred, this death of the great writer seemed to pass unnoticed. But it echoed painfully in the hearts of many people scattered on both sides of the trenches. It reminded them of the past gentle joys of the spirit, of the enthusiastic meetings with bright human characters, of the undying beauty of the human word. In the atmosphere of mass murders, which seems to oppress and dull sensitivity, sadness according to the beloved writer, it was too personal, too intimate and tender.