Robert Capa, the great photojournalist who is perhaps best known for his searing images of WWII, infused his autobiography with the same brio and warmth that he expressed in his now classic photographs. "Victory was pleasant and exhausting," the Hungarian-born American notes after the Allies' capture of Tunisia. "During the day in the streets ... we were kissed by hundreds of old women.... We had enough liquor from a captured Gestapo warehouse to keep our singing throats from drying out." Always on the frontlines (he was killed in 1954 in what would later become known as the Vietnam War), Capa went ahead with the parachute invasion of Sicily even though he had been fired from Colliers Weekly--flying in with a squadron of young soldiers he refers to as "boys." When Capa's turn came to jump, he forgot to count "one thousand, two thousand, three thousand" before pulling his cord, instead murmuring, "Fired photographer jumps." "I felt a jerk on my shoulder and my chute was open. 'Fired photographer floats,' I said happily to myself." Stuck dangling in a tree all night, he didn't dare call out for help. "With my Hungarian accent, I stood an equal chance of being shot by either side."

Writing or clicking the shutter, Capa was the perfect conduit for his time, with the war's almost casual heroism, palpable danger, and the importance of every moment of life--whether lying in a foxhole or shopping in London at Dunhill's for a silver flask. Slightly Out of Focus is dotted with his pictures, including the most famous ones of the D day invasion. "I am a gambler," Capa writes. "I decided to go in with Company E in the first wave." Capa's priceless, self-deprecating text tells much, and his photographs show the rest: how thin the Europeans were in Italy, France, and Germany, for example, trim as saplings from years of deprivation. And then there's Capa's famous series showing the plump Frenchwoman, a German collaborator, marked for shame by her shaved head, hurrying past her taunting neighbors, all of whom are gaunt by comparison.

This is a war book, of course, but it will transfix documentary photographers. And this Modern Library edition, which links Capa with such great writers as Ernest Hemingway (whom he photographed wounded), confers suitable honor on his earthy genius. --Peggy Moorman


From Library Journal
Renowned photograher Capa first published this memoir in 1947, recalling his time covering World War II between 1942 and 1945. His firsthand reminiscences are buttressed with his signature photographs. Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.


Review
"A powerful story nimbly told. For devotees of fine photography or accounts of World War II, the Modern Library 's reprinting is a welcome gift."
-- Tampa Tribune and Times

"Capa's work is itself the picture of a great heart and an overwhelming compassion. . . . He could photograph motion and gaiety and heartbreak. He could photograph thought. He captured a world."
-- John Steinbeck

"Above all--and this is what shows in his pictures--Capa, who spent so much energy on inventions for his own person, has deep, human sympathy for men and women trapped in reality."
-- John Hersey


Review
"A powerful story nimbly told. For devotees of fine photography or accounts of World War II, the Modern Library 's reprinting is a welcome gift."
-- Tampa Tribune and Times

"Capa's work is itself the picture of a great heart and an overwhelming compassion. . . . He could photograph motion and gaiety and heartbreak. He could photograph thought. He captured a world."
-- John Steinbeck

"Above all--and this is what shows in his pictures--Capa, who spent so much energy on inventions for his own person, has deep, human sympathy for men and women trapped in reality."
-- John Hersey

FROM THE PUBLISHER

In 1942, a dashing young man who liked nothing so much as a heated game of poker, a good bottle of Scotch, and the company of a pretty girl hopped a merchant ship to England. He was Robert Capa, the brilliant and daring photojournalist, and Collier's magazine had put him on assignment to photograph the war raging in Europe. In these pages, Capa recounts his terrifying journey through the darkest battles of World War II and shares his memories of the men and women of the Allied forces who befriended, amused, and captivated him along the way.. "From Sicily to London, Normandy to Algiers, Capa experienced some of the most trying conditions imaginable, yet his compassion and wit shine on every page of this book.

SYNOPSIS

Robert Capa never aspired to be a photographer. He wanted to be a reporter and a novelist: a writer. It was only by chance that he drifted and was pushed by various circumstances into photography, his work later establishing him as the foremost photojournalist in the world.

On September 28, 1999, the Modern Library will publish his 1947 war memoir, Slightly Out Of Focus. This new edition includes more than 100 photos, some rarely seen, all extraordinary, and based in part on Capa s edit of his photos for the first edition. With new captions by Capa's biographer, Richard Whelan, and a foreward by Cornell Capa, Robert's brother, Slightly Out Of Focus contains some of Capa's best work ever, magnified by his vivid prose.

By World War II, Capa was at the height of his career as a photojournalist, having found the perfect balance between the essential recklessness and love of a good time, and his genius with the camera. Slightly Out Of Focus is Capa's own account of his World War II experiences. His writing is often hilarious, highly readable, and full in insight. He is as much preoccupied with finding the next card game, hot meal, and bottle of booze as he is with stayinig alive on the battlefront.

Capa captured some of the defining images of the war—his photographs of the Normandy landing were the first to reach the States, and to his day remain the best imagistic record of D-Day (Steven Speilberg studied them in preparation for the opening sequence of "Saving Private Ryan").

Whether crashing on an overcrowded hotel room floor with John Steinbeck, hoisting a few with Hemingway, or realizing what a fool he was to have volunteered for a hopelessly dangerous mission, it's easy to see why Capa was beloved by all who knew him—and why his work continues to amaze and inspire.

FROM THE CRITICS

Library Journal