A review by bookishblond
The Street of Crocodiles by Bruno Schulz, Simon McBurney

3.0

Bruno Schulz obviously read a lot of Kafka.

Why does everyone love this guy so much? Sure, he writes beautifully and poetically, but he's not saying anything that hasn't been said before (even in 1934). I could be hideously wrong, but it seems to me that the bulk of Schulz's literary fame stems from his death. What a grotesque and lovely picture, that of a gifted writer shot dead by a Nazi bullet.