By Jean Raspail
The Camp of the Saints (Le Camp des saints) is a 1973 French apocalyptic novel via Jean Raspail. the unconventional depicts a hypothetical atmosphere wherein 3rd international mass immigration to France and the West resulted in the destruction of Western civilization. It sparked arguable reactions starting from prophetic to discriminatory. nearly 40 years after booklet the e-book which stimulated Ronald Reagan and François Mitterrand lower back to the bestseller record in 2011.
Read or Download The Camp of the Saints PDF
Similar literary books
AGE OF REitfSON half I it's been my goal, for a number of years previous, to post my ideas upon faith. i'm good conscious of the problems that attend the topic, and from that attention, had reserved it to a extra complicated interval of existence. T meant it to be the final supplying I may still make to my fellow-citizens of all international locations, and that at a time while the purity of the reason that brought on me to it, couldn't admit of a question, even via those that may well disapprove the paintings.
A riotous, bitingly humorous, and supremely smart novel from one in all our such a lot precise voices within the English language. The yr is 1970, and Keith Nearing, a twenty-year-old literature pupil, is spending his summer time holiday in a fortress on a mountainside in Italy. The Sexual Revolution is in full-swing—a old second of unparalleled opportunity—and Keith and his buddies are instantly stuck up in its chaotic, ecstatic throes.
- More Letters from Pemberley
- The Wasties
- A Ship Made of Paper: A Novel
- The Times Literary Supplement Jan 01, 2010 No 5570
Additional resources for The Camp of the Saints
You can thank yourselves for that. The one thing your struggle for their souls has left them is the knowledge that the West—your West—is rich. To them, you’re the symbols of abundance. By your presence alone, they see that it does exist somewhere, and they see that your conscience hurts you for keeping it all to yourselves. You can dress up in rags and pretend to be poor, eat handfuls of curry to your hearts’ content. You can spread your acolytes far and wide, let them live like the peasants and dispense their wise advice.
The professor stepped out on the terrace. Down below, the shoreline was lit with a score of reddish glows, ringed round with billows of smoke. He opened his binoculars and trained them on the highest of the piles, flaming neatly along like a wooden tower, loaded with corpses from bottom to top. The soldiers had stacked it with care, first a layer of wood, then a layer of flesh, and so on all the way up. At least some trace of respect for death seemed to show in its tidy construction. Then all at once, down it crashed, still burning, nothing now but a loathsome mass, like a heap of smoking rubble along the public way.
As far as the rest are concerned, he forces himself, and lets the world force him. And then, when he does, when the damage is done, he himself falls apart. In this curious war taking shape, those who loved themselves best were the ones who would triumph. How many would they be, next morning, still joyously standing their ground on the beach, as the hideous army slipped down by the thousands, down into the water, for the onslaught by the living, in the wake of their dead? Joyously! That was what mattered the most.