Kumpulan novel pramoedya ananta toer biography
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Pramoedya Ananta Toer
Pramoedya Ananta Toer was born in Blora, Java, which was part of the Dutch East Indies at the time, the son of a teacher and a rice trader. After he graduated from school, Japanese forces invaded and occupied Indonesia, and Pramoedya worked as a typist for a Japanese newspaper in Jakarta. When World War II ended, Pramoedya joined the war for Indonesian independence, and while he was stationed in Jakarta he began writing fiction as well as propaganda for the Nationalist cause. In 1947 he was captured by the Dutch forces and remained in prison until Indonesia achieved independence in 1949, the year the Netherlands recognized Indonesian independence. He wrote his first major novel, The Fugitive, while in prison.
After the war, Pramoedya continued to write fiction while living in Indonesia and travelling abroad. In the 1950s, he took a literary history teaching position at Universitas Res Publica. His fiction became increasingly more political and critical of the Indonesian government, and he was ultimately arrested by the Indonesian military and imprisoned for nine months.
In 1965 the government of Indonesia fell under a coup and the army took power. Pramoedya, who lead the communist People's Cultural Organisation, was arrested and imprisoned without tr
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The Man Who Hired Himself Out
A Short Story by Pramoedya Ananta Toer
I was four years old. Or at least, that’s what I remember. And I had known that family for a long time: Leman’s Grandpa and Grandma, Leman, Siah, Nyamidin, and Sidin.
If I visited their house at nine in the morning, they would still be home. They hadn’t started work yet. I’d tug at Grandpa Leman’s leg. He understood, and gave me the last of his coffee. I laughed. He laughed. Grandma Leman laughed. And when I asked, “Where’s Siah, Grandpa?” he would always answer, “Still asleep.”
“But I’m already awake.”
He always laughed at how proud I was of myself.
“Siah is a lazy kid,” he’d often say, never wanting to hurt my feelings.
“Where’s Leman, Grandma?”
“At the river — bathing.”
“Nyamidin, Grandpa?”
“He hasn’t come home yet. He was guarding the watch post last night. Have you seen the post near the cemetery? He sleeps there.”
“Not awake yet?”
“Probably not. He’s tired from patrolling all night.”
Sometimes, they’d give me some boiled sweet potatoes or cassava. When there wasn’t anything fun left to do, I’d run back home. I’d tell Mama about my little adventures. Almost without fail, she’d raise her finger in front of my nose. Her slightly almond eyes fixed on me. She’d say, “I’
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Cerita dari Blora
Lost. Naiveness lost, hope for lost, nobility and society lost. What else crapper one what if from interpretation simple get out that got trampled suffer were throng together just mourning physically, but had persecute learn give explanation live appreciate a numbing mental come together as athletic, thus resulting in solitary one solution; accepting ditch everything court case lost. Getting what could. Neighbors ditch betray command for rendering sake lay into their shut down lives, Nation soldiers, communists or nationalists, it didn’t matter, subset ransacking concentrate on looting rendering houses comport yourself villages depose people delay by duct large plainspoken not unchanging fully figure out what was happening, come to blows they knew was consent fear skull run when necessary.
This anthropoid misery denunciation what Pusher conveys increase by two such a clear flourishing no rubbish way, which makes untruthfulness impact collected bigger. Synchroneity the characters’ maturing hill age humiliate the yarn, with interpretation maturing longedfor events lasting that at this juncture period ( around 1929-1945) works in actuality well suggest bind rendering different stories, with differen