While I appreciate the quality of the writing which features some lovely descriptions and elegant turns of phrase, I did not enjoy this book as much as I probably should have. The pace was very slow. The characters were well drawn, but it wasn't enough to maintain my interest. The themes were worthy, profound and very intelligently presented and explored but I couldn't connect with the story enough to fully engage with them.

I'm shocked I finished this book. The prose was gorgeous but the amount of detail was such a challenge to wade through especially since it felt like a thousand of pages about the stereotypes Polish soldiers had about other parts of Poland I had never heard of and couldn't find on a map. I mean, it really does take almost 300 pages to get the narrator from home to the training camp.

I had a hard time getting into this despite trying several times. I struggled with both the story and writing style and won't be finishing this one, unfortunately I just think it wasn't for me. I don't feel I would be the best objective reviewer for this one. Thank you for the opportunity!

“‘When a war is over,’ Piotr told himself, ‘the emperors sit down in their palaces, take paper and pencil and count corpses. It would seem to be just like a game of cards; whoever lost more is the loser.’”

Józef Wittlin writes as a sort of Dickensian equivalent for the 20th-century Polish cusp-World-War-I landscape. He focuses very narrowly on the lower class, particularly one man named Piotr Niewiadomski, who are inevitably the ones to pay the debt for the war cries of their leaders.

Wittlin, if I read the translated tone correctly, produces an atmosphere in his book that leaves the reader without a concrete mood for the novel. Often, he makes fun of his characters and their idiosyncrasies and immediately follows with a depressing bout of description that leaves the reader without a safe feeling for any given character. He almost never settles on a formal tone for the events in the book, which should garner a shadow over them, and he treats the most serious of characters and incidences, such as any part with the ruling class (or those with authority) and the pivotal events that happen to propel the war into action, with such a humor as to muddle the reader’s consciousness.

It is an unfortunate tragedy that Wittlin passed away before finishing this set of stories. They would have added a finished masterpiece to world literature’s 360° view of the First World War. As it is, we shall only have to settle for the first piece.

The Austro-Hungarian Empire was a strange creature. It spanned a huge swath of central and eastern Europe. Based in Vienna, it ruled over people who spoke Hungarian, Polish, Czech, and Ukrainian while ordering people around in German. It was bureaucratic and hidebound, as depicted in Józef Wittlin’s The Salt of the Earth (faithfully translated by Patrick Corness). This novel, the first in a planned but unfinished trilogy, gives us two views of the outbreak of World War I. In some chapters, it takes a macro view of the mobilization. In others, it zooms in to follow an illiterate Ukrainian peasant and other Austro-Hungarian citizens who got caught up in the war.

Because The Salt of the Earth is the opening novel in an incomplete trilogy, the pacing feels off. Instead of covering the arc of Piotr’s military experience, this novel is a long build up that takes Piotr from the outbreak of war to the beginning of his training in Hungary. The Salt of the Earth was clearly meant to be a big, sprawling epic of the war from the Austro-Hungarian perspective. But even though The Salt of the Earth is unfinished, it still provides an interesting reading experience. I ended up reading it more like a historical document, as a fictional account of events rather than a fully fledged novel.

Piotr, the protagonist at the heart of this book, is not as hapless or comic as Švejk or as tragic as Paul Bäumer, the protagonists of other iconic World War I novels. He’s an unlikeable man, dismissive of his lover (who loves him and serves essentially as a housekeeper Piotr can have sex with) and casually anti-Semitic. But he is a useful character for exploring the strange relationship people in the outskirts of the empire had with their Austrian rulers. Piotr believes in his government the way others believe in a religion. He has a completely one-sided relationship with his emperor. If he serves faithfully as a low-level railroad worker, he might someday be allowed to rise in the ranks and be awarded with the special cap worn by state employees. Just as he finally gets that special hat, Piotr is drafted and sent to basic training.

As I mentioned before, The Salt of the Earth is not a complete novel. It shouldn’t be read as one because it will only frustrate readers who want a satisfying conclusion. That said, I would only recommend this to readers who are curious about the experience of ordinary Austro-Hungarian men in 1914.

Salt of the earth is a richly detailed, deliberately paced exploration of the inner workings of the men who are swept up in a war created by others. In the first of a classic trilogy of World War 1 literature, we follow a railroad porter from his everyday life to his consignment in the Austro-Hungarian army and the first days of his training.
The book is full of passages that are foreign to a typical American way of thinking and phrasing but are rich and beautiful and thought-provoking. It provides an Eastern European perspective on the war and is a highly worthwhile read.

First published in 1936, this little known classic of war literature now has a new translation, which will hopefully bring the novel to a wider readership, because, although it has some faults it really is a small gem and deserves to be better known. Jozef Wittlin was a Polish writer (1896-1976) and intended Salt of the Earth to be the first volume of a trilogy, but he never completed it. It’s a biting satire of the absurdities of war, and the ineptitude of those at the top of the military hierarchy, who give little thought to the soldiers they are sacrificing. The novel starts with a remarkably powerful prologue giving a vivid overview of mobilisation in the Austro-Hungarian Empire in 1914, and then narrows its focus to Piotr Niewiadomski, an illiterate railway worker who is drafted into the Imperial Army although he has no understanding of what the war is all about. His often naïve and bewildered outlook is compassionately conveyed and the reader soon feels great sympathy for him as he gets caught up in events way beyond his comprehension. I found the novel at its best when concentrating on Piotr in the first half, as the second half becomes increasingly blunt about the upper ranks and their stupidity, but nevertheless overall I found the book a worthy addition to World War One literature.

The Salt of the Earth is described by the publishers as ‘a classic war novel, a powerful pacifist tale about the consequences of war on ordinary men’. Although I had never heard of the book or the author prior to coming across it on NetGalley, I can say that it certainly lives up to that description. If you care to look for equivalents these probably include modern classics such as All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque, Memoirs of an Infantry Officer by Siegfried Sassoon and Goodbye to All That by Robert Graves. However, because of its mordant humour, dark satire and ridiculing of those in positions of authority, it also made me think of the film Oh! What a Lovely War.

The book satirizes the absurdities of war and the pompousness, self-importance and (often) ineptitude of those in positions of authority. These include: Emperor Franz Joseph, ruler of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, presented as a buffoon-like figure, full of puffed-up pride who shows no hesitation in consigning tens of thousands of his citizens to war and certain death; and Regimental Sergeant-Major Bachmatiuk, ‘the fanatical expert and high priest of Military Discipline’ who sets more store by precise adherence to military regulations than to the welfare of his soldiers.

The only sympathetic character is poor Piotr, something of an ‘Everyman’ figure. An illiterate peasant unable to tell his left from his right, he is nonetheless, like many of his fellow Hutsul villagers, drafted into the army of the Emperor. Piotr is determined to do his duty even though it becomes obvious his trust of those in authority is completely misplaced. They don’t value him as a human being; he’s just another cog in the machine of war.

I mentioned previously the dark humour and satire in the book, exemplified by the following passage: ‘Newspapers throughout the monarchy were publishing enthusiastic reports from the “theatres of war”, which differ from other theatres in that the actors are also the audience and the audience are the actors. Every day, images of their directors and prima donnas of the war looked out at you from the newsprint, profiles of old men in uniform, avidly seeking applause, flaunting their immortality gained at the expense of the deaths of other.’

Because the book is the first in a planned trilogy which was never completed, the reader doesn’t get to learn the fate of poor Piotr, although it is probably correct to assume it wouldn’t have been a happy one (like so many millions of others).

The Salt of the Earth has a fable like quality at time, imaginative descriptive writing and a dark undertone, all of which it seemed to me was rendered in an accomplished manner by the translator.

I received a review copy courtesy of publishers, Pushkin Press, and NetGalley.

Unfortunately I did not like the style of writing, nor the slow story line. For me it was like trying to wade through treacle. I appreciate that the translator has done an excellent job of translating the Polish poetic prose into English but I have given up after reading the prologue and the first chapter. I feel that if the trilogy was complete then the journey might be worth it, but not for an incomplete tale.

It seems appropriate that I have been reading this book in the run-up to the centenary of the end of World War 1. "Salt of the Earth" is one of the best anti-war - or pacifist - books I have come across. In common with "Under Fire" by Henri Barbusse, this novel is written from a private's point of view, based on the author's own experience of service during the Great War, and shows the how much the heavy physical, emotional and mental challenges of any war can affect ordinary people.

This book is beautifully written and the translator into English is to be congratulated for producing such wonderful prose without a hint that it was originally written in another language.

This was a very interesting book set in Poland at the beginning of Word War One. This story is different than most war stories because it takes place before the main character (Piotr) even sees combat. The Salt of the Earth is the first novel in a trilogy that was never completed so I would assume that the rest of the war appears in the other novels.

Piotr is an illiterate peasant who is called up to fight for the Emperor Franz Joseph. He is a very simple person who doesn't even know left from right. The novel spends a lot of time regarding rural life and religion which is interesting but draws away from the base story.

If you are a reader that likes descriptive prose novel then I would suggest this one.

I found The Salt of the Earth a captivating read. I loved the narrative prose style and adored the characters, especially Piotr. It is a tale with an important message on war, yet it is also a beautifully written story of a man ripped out of his familiar world and tossed into another. It's a shame Wittlin never got to finish the trilogy, as when the book ended I was sad not to know how things would work out for Piotr. Would he make it through the war and get back home? Overall, I would recommend this book to literary fiction readers as it is a wonderful piece of writing that really deserves more attention.

Thank you NetGalley for the free ARC.

This book reminded me a little bit of The Good Soldier Svejk by Hasek, both novels deal with the absurdity of war. THis book is less of a satire, but still just leaves you reeling. This novel was originally released in the 1930's , if I am not mistaken.