The Street of Crocodiles and Other Stories

( 3 )


The collected fiction of "one of the most original imaginations in modern Europe" (Cynthia Ozick)

Bruno Schulz's untimely death at the hands of a Nazi stands as one of the great losses to modern literature. During his lifetime, his work found little critical regard, but word of his remarkable talents gradually won him an international readership. This volume brings together his complete fiction, including three short stories and his final surviving work, Sanatorium Under the ...

See more details below
$12.01 price
(Save 29%)$17.00 List Price

Pick Up In Store

Reserve and pick up in 60 minutes at your local store

Other sellers (Paperback)
  • All (22) from $8.16   
  • New (14) from $9.69   
  • Used (8) from $8.16   
Sending request ...


The collected fiction of "one of the most original imaginations in modern Europe" (Cynthia Ozick)

Bruno Schulz's untimely death at the hands of a Nazi stands as one of the great losses to modern literature. During his lifetime, his work found little critical regard, but word of his remarkable talents gradually won him an international readership. This volume brings together his complete fiction, including three short stories and his final surviving work, Sanatorium Under the Sign of the Hourglass. Illustrated with Schulz's original drawings, this edition beautifully showcases the distinctive surrealist vision of one of the twentieth century's most gifted and influential writers.

Read More Show Less

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
"Every time I open his books, I'm amazed anew to discover how this writer, a single human being who rarely left his home town, created for us an entire world, an alternate dimension of reality. . . . His [stories] create a fantastic universe, a private mythology of one family, and are written in a language that brims with life, a language that is itself the main character of the stories and is the only dimension in which they could possibly exist. . . . On every page, life [is] raging, exploding with vitality, suddenly worthy of its name."
-David Grossman, The New Yorker

"A masterpiece of comic writing; grave yet dignified, domestically plain yet poetic, exultant and forgiving, marvelously inventive, shy, and never raw."
-The New York Review of Books

"Bruno Schulz was one of the great writers, one of the great transmogrifiers of the world into words. . . . [His] verbal art strikes us-stuns us, even-with its overload of beauty."
-John Updike

"One of the most original imaginations in modern Europe."
-Cynthia Ozick

"Schulz cannot be easily classified. He can be called a surrealist, a symbolist, an expressionist, a modernist. . . . He wrote sometimes like Kafka, sometimes like Proust, and at times succeeded in reaching depths that neither of them reached. . . . If Schulz had been allowed to live out his life, he might have given us untold treasures, but what he did in his short life was enough to make him one of the most remarkable writers who ever lived."
-Isaac Bashevis Singer

"Rich in fantasy, sensuous in their apprehension of the living world, elegant in style, witty, underpinned by a mystical but coherent idealistic aesthetic, The Street of Crocodiles and Sanatorium Under the Sign of the Hourglass were unique and startling productions, seeming to come out of nowhere. . . . Schulz was incomparably gifted as an explorer of his own inner life, which is at the same time the recollected inner life of his childhood and his own creative workings. From the first comes the charm and freshness of his stories, from the second their intellectual power."
-J. M. Coetzee, The New York Review of Books

Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780143105145
  • Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
  • Publication date: 3/25/2008
  • Series: Penguin Classics Series
  • Pages: 368
  • Sales rank: 248,387
  • Product dimensions: 5.08 (w) x 7.74 (h) x 0.61 (d)

Meet the Author

Bruno Schulz, (1892-1942) wrote stories, assorted criticism, and a lost work thought to be called The Messiah.
Jonathan Safran Foer is the bestselling author of Everything Is Illuminated and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.
David A. Goldfarb taught for eight years in the Slavic department at Barnard College, Columbia University.
Celina Wieniewska is an award-winning translator.

Read More Show Less

Reading Group Guide

In The Street of Crocodiles, Bruno Schulz’s collection of interlinked stories, the most prosaic elements of everyday life become fantastic, full of mystery, capable of containing and at times revealing the deepest secrets of existence. For example, as the narrator, his family, and the shop assistants sit down to lunch, “it was only when a dish appeared on the table containing two large fish in jelly lying side by side, head-to-tail, like a sign of the zodiac, that we recognized in them the coat of arms of that day, the calendar emblem of the nameless Tuesday: we shared it out quickly among ourselves, thankful that the day had at last achieved an identity” (p. 27). An article of clothing, a ray of light, wind, a cloud, a stray dog, a cockroach—any of these things can send the book’s narrator on the most lyrical, at times disorienting, flights of description, reminiscence, or metaphysical speculation. On the other hand, descriptions of incredible events, absurd landscapes, and bizarre animals make them seem matter-of-fact. When the narrator’s father, Jacob, begins to keep birds in the attic of their house, the narrator perceives a growing resemblance between his father and a particular condor: “I could not resist the impression, when looking at the sleeping condor, that I was in the presence of a mummy—a dried-out, shrunken mummy of my father. I believe that even my mother noticed this strange resemblance, although we never discussed the subject. It is significant that the condor used my father’s chamber pot” (p. 22). Once filtered through the narrator’s consciousness, the real and the unreal become indistinct from each other.

What accounts for the narrator’s leveling of different orders of experience? One way of answering this question is to note thatThe Street of Crocodiles is the product of the narrator’s memory, the operations of which can as easily be called invention as recollection (as seen in Proust, to whom Schulz is sometimes compared). Direct access to what really happened is impossible, which makes the question of what is believable irrelevant. But there is also the suggestion that the narrator’s mode of presenting the world of his childhood is a reaction to it. In the book’s first story, “August,” the narrator wishes that Emil, his exotic cousin, would notice him and liberate him from “the tortures of boredom” (p. 10). Whether the attention he gets from Emil has a desirable outcome is unclear. His cousin shows him a collection of pornographic photographs, and their effect on the narrator seems not entirely pleasurable.

The narrator frequently contrasts his boredom with various possibilities for relieving it, but these possibilities always possess ominous, if not dangerous, qualities. The tension between the safety of boredom and the potential for chaos lurking within its antidotes is most explicit in “The Comet.” The town becomes convinced that a comet is about to obliterate the earth. But, instead of inspiring fear, the prediction is cause for celebration: “Something festive had entered our lives, an eager enthusiasm. An importance permeated our gestures and swelled our chests with cosmic sighs” (p. 106). When the disaster fails to materialize, the narrator observes that the people were “richer by one more disappointment” (p. 111). How can a disappointment enrich them? Might it be that what actually happens in this provincial place could never be as exciting as what its inhabitants are capable of imagining? Schulz does not, however, depict the products of imagination as necessarily benign and therefore unquestionably preferable to the daily reality.

Throughout the book, the father seems to function as a counterweight to the boredom that oppresses the narrator. Looking back on the period when his father kept birds in the attic, the narrator notes that the “affair of the birds was the last colorful and splendid counteroffensive of fantasy which my father, that incorrigible improviser, that fencing master of imagination, had led against the trenches and defenseworks of a sterile and empty winter” (p. 25). Standing against this counteroffensive is Adela, the family’s servant, who chases the birds from the attic in a “dance of destruction” that renders the father “an exiled king who had lost his throne and his kingdom” (p. 23). The rest of the family wonders if she’s been given “some commission and assignment from forces of a higher order” (p. 25).

The Treatise on Tailors’ Dummies that Jacob recites (in “Tailors’ Dummies”) can be read as an explanation of the aesthetic philosophy at the heart of Schulz’s method. “The whole of matter,” Jacob proclaims, “pulsates with infinite possibilities that send dull shivers through it. Waiting for the life-giving breath of the spirit, it is endlessly in motion. It entices us with a thousand sweet, soft, round shapes which it blindly dreams up within itself. . . . Anyone can mold it and shape it; it obeys everybody. All attempts at organizing matter are transient and temporary, easy to reverse and to dissolve” (p. 31). The narrator seems to treat the substance of his memories as his father here describes matter. Near the beginning of “The Gale,” the narrator tells us that “one night the regiments of saucepans and bottles rose under the empty roofs and marched in a great bulging mass against the city” (p. 77). It is difficult to make sense of this until, several paragraphs later, we learn that a fierce wind is blowing through the town, and we realize that what he has been recounting is what the wind initiated in his imagination.

As the stories progress, it seems as if madness gradually overtakes Jacob, but it is a madness measured not so much in how he perceives the world as in how radically isolated from it he becomes. In “Visitation,” the narrator recalls that “we did not count him as one of us anymore, so very remote had he become from everything that was human and real” (p. 17). In “Cinnamon Shops,” the narrator says his father “was already lost, sold and surrendered to the other sphere” (p. 53). The narrator tells us that he now understands his father as a “lonely hero who alone had waged war against the fathomless, elemental boredom that strangled the city” (p. 25). Is Jacob’s isolation the cost he pays for saving his family? If so, does the narrator believe the price is fair? suggests that our individuality, if given full expression, fulfills the somewhat contrary ends of giving shape and color to an otherwise dreary world while separating us from those with whom we would share the pleasures to be found in a world so completely alive.


Born in 1892 in Drohobycz—then part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and now part of Ukraine—Bruno Schulz is considered one of the greatest prose writers of twentieth-century Poland. He started drawing as a young child, and he studied architecture before his schooling was interrupted by illness and the outbreak of World War I. Schulz intended to have a career in graphics, but could only earn a living by teaching high school art. Apart from his work, his interaction with others consisted almost entirely of exchanging letters. Many of the stories in Schulz’s first book, Cinnamon Shops (1934, retitled The Street of Crocodiles in its American edition), began as letters to a poet friend in Lviv, Debora Vogel. Introduced to Zofia Nalkowska, a prominent novelist in Warsaw, Schulz later sent her his stories, and her support facilitated their publication. Schulz wrote that “these ‘stories’ are true; they represent my style of living, my particular lot. The dominant feature of that lot is a profound solitude, a withdrawal from the cares of daily life.” In addition to translating Franz Kafka’s The Trial, Schulz published a second collection of stories, Sanatorium Under the Sign of the Hourglass (1937), which is included in this Penguin Classics edition.

When the Germans seized Drohobycz in 1941, Schulz was forced from his home and into the Jewish ghetto. He distributed his unpublished writing, along with drawings, prints, and paintings, among non-Jewish friends for safekeeping—these were rumored to include the manuscript of a novel called The Messiah. A Nazi officer took an interest in Schulz’s art, serving as a kind of protector and commissioning a set of murals for his son’s bedroom. (When the murals were discovered in 2001, officials from Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum in Jerusalem, ignited a controversy by removing them without permission.) In 1942, Schulz was shot and killed by another Nazi officer, supposedly an enemy of his protector. None of the work Schulz is thought to have left with others has ever surfaced.


  • Why does the narrator describe inanimate objects as if they were living beings, such as in “August,” where he describes windows as having “fallen asleep”? (p. 4)
  • In “August,” how does the narrator feel after Emil shows him his photographs of “naked women and boys in strange positions”? (p. 10)
  • Why does Adela have more influence over Jacob than his wife does?
  • What does the narrator mean when he explains his father’s interest in animals as “a kind of experimenting in the unexplored regions of existence”? (p. 20)
  • Why does Jacob decide to hatch birds’ eggs inside the house? Why do the chicks fascinate the narrator?
  • Why does Adela suffer no consequences for chasing the birds out of the attic? Why does the rest of the family feel “a vile satisfaction, a disgraceful pleasure that Father’s exuberance had been curbed”? (p. 25)
  • Why is the narrator concerned that the Treatise on Tailors’ Dummies may give offense, calling it “this most heretical doctrine”? (p. 31)
  • What is the significance of the fact that the narrator never finds the cinnamon shops?
  • What does the narrator mean when he says, “Reality is as thin as paper and betrays with all its cracks its imitative character”? (p. 67)
  • Why does the narrator describe the Street of Crocodiles as “a concession of our city to modernity and metropolitan corruption”? (p. 72)
  • How are we to understand the narrator’s assertion that his father has been transformed into a cockroach? Why does the narrator then say that his father is a condor?
  • In “The Comet,” after seeing the results of his father’s experiment on Uncle Edward, why does the narrator feel “a grudging approval when one saw how punctually, how accurately he was functioning”? (p. 104)
  • Why is it “fashion” that prevents the comet from hitting the town? What does the narrator mean when he says the town was “richer by one more disappointment”? (p. 111)


David Grossman, See Under: Love (1989)
In this complex novel by one of Israel’s most highly acclaimed writers, Bruno Schulz is one of four narrators Grossman uses to tell the story of Momik, an only child of Holocaust survivors whose life is distorted by an event that not only predates him but also escapes every conventional means of understanding.

Franz Kafka, Metamorphosis (1915)
Beginning with its central character, Gregor Samsa, waking up to find himself transformed into an insect, Kafka’s story is perhaps the most iconic example of a work of fiction that violates the conventions of realism in order to access feelings and states of mind that seem at once extreme and commonplace.

Cynthia Ozick, The Messiah of Stockholm (1987)
A meditation on literature, identity, and obsession, this short novel turns on the appearance of a manuscript of The Messiah, Schulz’s lost novel. It’s in the possession of a woman claiming to be Schulz’s daughter, and it upsets the life of a war refugee and book reviewer for a Swedish daily newspaper who is convinced that he is Schulz’s son.

Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time (1913–1927)
Proust’s extraordinarily rich seven-volume novel, in which the narrator seeks to understand the most nuanced forces that have shaped his life, is a penetrating study of human consciousness and a profoundly evocative depiction of the workings of memory.

Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 3 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star


4 Star


3 Star


2 Star


1 Star


Your Rating:

Your Name: Create a Pen Name or

Barnes & Review Rules

Our reader reviews allow you to share your comments on titles you liked, or didn't, with others. By submitting an online review, you are representing to Barnes & that all information contained in your review is original and accurate in all respects, and that the submission of such content by you and the posting of such content by Barnes & does not and will not violate the rights of any third party. Please follow the rules below to help ensure that your review can be posted.

Reviews by Our Customers Under the Age of 13

We highly value and respect everyone's opinion concerning the titles we offer. However, we cannot allow persons under the age of 13 to have accounts at or to post customer reviews. Please see our Terms of Use for more details.

What to exclude from your review:

Please do not write about reviews, commentary, or information posted on the product page. If you see any errors in the information on the product page, please send us an email.

Reviews should not contain any of the following:

  • - HTML tags, profanity, obscenities, vulgarities, or comments that defame anyone
  • - Time-sensitive information such as tour dates, signings, lectures, etc.
  • - Single-word reviews. Other people will read your review to discover why you liked or didn't like the title. Be descriptive.
  • - Comments focusing on the author or that may ruin the ending for others
  • - Phone numbers, addresses, URLs
  • - Pricing and availability information or alternative ordering information
  • - Advertisements or commercial solicitation


  • - By submitting a review, you grant to Barnes & and its sublicensees the royalty-free, perpetual, irrevocable right and license to use the review in accordance with the Barnes & Terms of Use.
  • - Barnes & reserves the right not to post any review -- particularly those that do not follow the terms and conditions of these Rules. Barnes & also reserves the right to remove any review at any time without notice.
  • - See Terms of Use for other conditions and disclaimers.
Search for Products You'd Like to Recommend

Recommend other products that relate to your review. Just search for them below and share!

Create a Pen Name

Your Pen Name is your unique identity on It will appear on the reviews you write and other website activities. Your Pen Name cannot be edited, changed or deleted once submitted.

Your Pen Name can be any combination of alphanumeric characters (plus - and _), and must be at least two characters long.

Continue Anonymously
Sort by: Showing all of 3 Customer Reviews
  • Posted September 20, 2010

    more from this reviewer

    The Street of Crocodiles

    Alas poor Bruno Schulz. Had he been allowed to live the world would not be deprived of his surreal genius. Sadly, a Nazi ended Mr. Schulz's life and we will simply have to treasure what little he left behind. This book includes his novellas 'The Street of Crocodiles' (originally published as 'The Cinnamon Shops'), 'Sanatorium Under the Sign of the Hourglass' and a few short stories. Trying to describe Schulz' writing is akin to describing a dream. I can simply say that this is easily one of the best books I've ever read. However, I'm not ashamed to admit that there were many parts where I felt like I didn't quite understand what was going on; in this rare case, I'm quite okay with that. Some sections are very straightforward and easy to comprehend, while others can be quite vague, even metaphysical in a sense. I for one am eager to re-read the book though, so as to better understand it. I can already tell it will be one of those books that will be different with every reading. For readers who are not intimidated by the abstract, surreal and downright labyrinthine this book will find a place in your heart.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 15, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted August 23, 2009

    No text was provided for this review.

Sort by: Showing all of 3 Customer Reviews

If you find inappropriate content, please report it to Barnes & Noble
Why is this product inappropriate?
Comments (optional)