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“His manner of speaking, like that of all the subordinated, excluded, was awkward, like a body full of wounds, into which at any time anyone can strew salt, yet so insistent, that it is painful to listen to him,” from The Carpenter The Austrian playwright, novelist, and poet Thomas Bernhard (1931–89) is acknowledged as among the major writers of our time. The seven stories in this collection capture Bernhard’s distinct darkly comic voice and vision—often compared to Kafka and Musil—commenting on a corrupted world. First published in German in 1967, these stories were written at the same time as Bernhard’s early novels Frost , Gargoyles , and The Lime Works , and they display the same obsessions, restlessness, and disarming mastery of language. Martin Chalmer’s outstanding translation, which renders the work in English for the first time, captures the essential personality of the work. The narrators of these stories lack the strength to do anything but listen and then write, the reader in turn becoming a captive listener, deciphering the traps laid by memory—and the mere words, the neverending words with which we try to pin it down. Words that are always close to driving the narrator crazy, but yet, as Bernhard writes “not completely crazy.” “Bernhard's glorious talent for bleak existential monologues is second only to Beckett's, and seems to have sprung up fully mature in his mesmerizing debut.”—From Publishers Weekly, on Frost “The feeling grows that Thomas Bernhard is the most original, concentrated novelist writing in German. His connections . . . with the great constellation of Kafka, Musil, and Broch become ever clearer.” —George Steiner, Times Literary Supplement , on Gargoyles
CONTENTS
Two tutors
The cap
Is it a comedy? Is it a tragedy?
Jauregg
Attaché at the French Embassy
The crime of an Innsbruck shopkeeper's son
The Carpenter
CONTENTS
Two tutors
The cap
Is it a comedy? Is it a tragedy?
Jauregg
Attaché at the French Embassy
The crime of an Innsbruck shopkeeper's son
The Carpenter
180 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1978
8 people are currently reading
275 people want to read
About the author
Thomas Bernhard
288 books2,438 followersThomas Bernhard was an Austrian writer who ranks among the most distinguished German-speaking writers of the second half of the 20th century.
Although internationally he’s most acclaimed because of his novels, he was also a prolific playwright. His characters are often at work on a lifetime and never-ending major project while they deal with themes such as suicide, madness and obsession, and, as Bernhard did, a love-hate relationship with Austria. His prose is tumultuous but sober at the same time, philosophic by turns, with a musical cadence and plenty of black humor.
He started publishing in the year 1963 with the novel Frost. His last published work, appearing in the year 1986, was Extinction. Some of his best-known works include The Loser (about a student’s fictionalized relationship with the pianist Glenn Gould), Wittgenstein’s Nephew, and Woodcutters.
Although internationally he’s most acclaimed because of his novels, he was also a prolific playwright. His characters are often at work on a lifetime and never-ending major project while they deal with themes such as suicide, madness and obsession, and, as Bernhard did, a love-hate relationship with Austria. His prose is tumultuous but sober at the same time, philosophic by turns, with a musical cadence and plenty of black humor.
He started publishing in the year 1963 with the novel Frost. His last published work, appearing in the year 1986, was Extinction. Some of his best-known works include The Loser (about a student’s fictionalized relationship with the pianist Glenn Gould), Wittgenstein’s Nephew, and Woodcutters.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 46 reviews
January 4, 2018
Pure Bernhard.
Thomas Bernhard was a unique writer. His writing captures the absurd elements in all of us. The seven stories in this collection all reflect the classic, pure worldview of Bernhard at his best.
If you are a Bernhard fan, you will immediately recognize the voices from books like Limeworks or Correction. But behind each of these stories,along with the usual obsession and lack of self control there is an act of wrongdoing, an act brought about by a certain torment in the character’s life, a torment that borders on obsession. And so it goes with Bernhard.
Each of these seven stories is a gem in itself and I shall not discuss them all. The first will suffice to give a sense of what Bernhard was doing all those years ago. I shall not try to compete with Bernhard in retelling them.
In ‘Two Tutors’, the story is recounted by a tutor at a private school who relates the story of a new tutor who has told him the story. (Typical Bernhard) The new tutor has told the old tutor, during one of their daily walks together, the circumstances of his leaving his last teaching position.
But as is often the case with Bernhard, the story goes back to the new tutor’s childhood.
“‘If you can imagine,’ he said, ‘that already as a child I had to lie in bed awake for ten, twelve nights in a row, dead tired, without being able to sleep.”
“‘All my life I have led only an awful life, and it is my right to lead an awful life, and this awful life is my sleeplessness ... But now, the story which led to my discharge from the Innsbruck establishment. Like all my stories it begins with my inability to sleep.’”
The story continues in this manner until sleep finally overcomes him - but he is awoken - by an animal under his window in the snow. And thus begins a new round of torment - sleep broken by the animal.
“‘On the thirty-seventh night, the same course of events: I am unable to sleep, unable to fall asleep, and, while I am still humiliated in the most terrible way by the thought of being unable to sleep, of not having fallen asleep, I must, as in the previous thirty-six nights have fallen asleep nevertheless, because I suddenly woke up, awoken by the animal which had stepped into the snow beneath the window which, as you know, is always open, even in the most severe winter ... Looking for food ... Then, ... ‘“ (I shall quote no further, you must read the story.)
But not above that the tutor states that he is “humiliated” by his inability to sleep. He is being humiliated, punished for a crime not yet committed. And the same seems to hold for all of these stories. I’m Bernhard’s world we are punished for being human, for being part of a society, of a family; for simply being.
Bernhard had a peculiar genius for portraying the human condition at its most absurd, at its most painful. He saw us as always struggling against the structures, social structures, in which we find ourselves. Every story is different. Every life the same. Highly recommended.
Thomas Bernhard was a unique writer. His writing captures the absurd elements in all of us. The seven stories in this collection all reflect the classic, pure worldview of Bernhard at his best.
If you are a Bernhard fan, you will immediately recognize the voices from books like Limeworks or Correction. But behind each of these stories,along with the usual obsession and lack of self control there is an act of wrongdoing, an act brought about by a certain torment in the character’s life, a torment that borders on obsession. And so it goes with Bernhard.
Each of these seven stories is a gem in itself and I shall not discuss them all. The first will suffice to give a sense of what Bernhard was doing all those years ago. I shall not try to compete with Bernhard in retelling them.
In ‘Two Tutors’, the story is recounted by a tutor at a private school who relates the story of a new tutor who has told him the story. (Typical Bernhard) The new tutor has told the old tutor, during one of their daily walks together, the circumstances of his leaving his last teaching position.
But as is often the case with Bernhard, the story goes back to the new tutor’s childhood.
“‘If you can imagine,’ he said, ‘that already as a child I had to lie in bed awake for ten, twelve nights in a row, dead tired, without being able to sleep.”
“‘All my life I have led only an awful life, and it is my right to lead an awful life, and this awful life is my sleeplessness ... But now, the story which led to my discharge from the Innsbruck establishment. Like all my stories it begins with my inability to sleep.’”
The story continues in this manner until sleep finally overcomes him - but he is awoken - by an animal under his window in the snow. And thus begins a new round of torment - sleep broken by the animal.
“‘On the thirty-seventh night, the same course of events: I am unable to sleep, unable to fall asleep, and, while I am still humiliated in the most terrible way by the thought of being unable to sleep, of not having fallen asleep, I must, as in the previous thirty-six nights have fallen asleep nevertheless, because I suddenly woke up, awoken by the animal which had stepped into the snow beneath the window which, as you know, is always open, even in the most severe winter ... Looking for food ... Then, ... ‘“ (I shall quote no further, you must read the story.)
But not above that the tutor states that he is “humiliated” by his inability to sleep. He is being humiliated, punished for a crime not yet committed. And the same seems to hold for all of these stories. I’m Bernhard’s world we are punished for being human, for being part of a society, of a family; for simply being.
Bernhard had a peculiar genius for portraying the human condition at its most absurd, at its most painful. He saw us as always struggling against the structures, social structures, in which we find ourselves. Every story is different. Every life the same. Highly recommended.
September 11, 2016
Πολύ ιδιαίτερη γραφή. Ενώ δεν με εντυπωσίασαν τα διηγήματα, (ήταν αρκετά βαριά) με καθήλωσαν. Ήταν το πρώτο μου βιβλίο Bernhard και θα ακολουθήσουν κι άλλα.
July 16, 2022
One describes best what one hates, I thought.I was a bit leery approaching these early short stories of Thomas Bernhard, a writer who specialized in monologue-heavy novels, all of which in years past I have assimilated thoroughly and accordingly. But I was pleased to find Bernhard in fine form within these tales, displaying many of what would soon become his trademark stylistic mannerisms. Though not known for employing direct dialogue, Bernhard also shows himself to have quite an ear for it in the story 'Is It a Comedy? Is It a Tragedy?', which comes to center on a charmingly absurd conversation between the narrator and a man he encounters in a city park who happens to be wearing women's clothing. This story was essentially perfect, and all of the others were also either at that level or close to it. I have always admired Bernhard's endings to his novels, and this admiration now extends to these stories, all of which end with seamless grace. As someone who is highly sensitive to the wretched manner in which most short stories end, I read every ending in this collection with an electric thrill of satisfaction coursing through my central nervous system. Yes, I said, yes. (In my head I said this, or if perhaps muttered out loud, then softly under my breath, drawing out the ess at the end almost akin to a hiss [actually no, that's not true—I did nothing of the sort; at most I nodded to myself (in my head, that is)]). Now I wish Thomas Bernhard had written many more short stories, as reading these in lieu of his novels is akin to drinking instant coffee when you no longer have the time or energy to brew a pot. They are tiny, shattered Bernhardian snow globes into which to gaze and desperately shake from time to time hoping for more serpentine sentences to unfurl across the landscape, melting everything in their wake with uncompromisingly wry futility.
More quotes:
'So every day, when office hours are over, something intervenes, which stops me from despairing, although I should despair, although in truth I am in despair. And although I know that, because in fact I always have something after office hours which distracts me, not always something that pleases me, at least something that distracts me, I am, every time, afraid before office closing hours. Because one day, I think, it could be that I no longer have anything that gives me pleasure or even distracts me. There is simply no pleasure and no distraction any more—it's a law of nature that for every person there is, one day, no pleasure nor any distraction any more, not the least pleasure, not the most insignificant distraction...'—'Jauregg'
As far as Georg and I are concerned, we never revealed our suicide perspectives to each other, we only knew of each other that we were at home in them. We were enclosed in our thoughts of suicide as in our room and in our conduit system, as in a complicated game, comparable to advanced mathematics. In this advanced suicide game we often left each other completely in peace for weeks. We studied and thought about suicide; we read and thought about suicide; we hid away and slept and dreamed and thought about suicide. We felt abandoned in our thoughts of suicide, undisturbed; no one bothered about us. We were at liberty to kill ourselves at any time, but we did not. As much as we had always been strangers to each other, there were never any of the many hundreds of thousands of odourless human secrets between us, only the secrets of nature as such, which we knew about. Days and nights were like verses of an infinitely harmonious dark song to us.—'The Crime of an Innsbruck Shopkeeper's Son'
August 2, 2015
Ομολογώ πως Τόμας Μπέρνχαρντ δεν είχα διαβάσει. Άκουγα για εκείνον σε συζητήσεις φίλων κάποια Σαββατιάτικα πρωινά στο Booktalks οι οποίες –παρόλο που δεν βρίσκω τη γερμανόφωνη λογοτεχνία ιδιαίτερα ελκυστική- με ιντρίγκαραν να διαβάσω κάτι δικό του για να έχω άποψη. Όταν ο φίλος Βασίλης μετέφρασε την «Πρόζα», αυτή τη μικρή συλλογή διηγημάτων του συγγραφέα από τη δεκαετία του ’60, το θεώρησα ιδανική ευκαιρία για μια εισαγωγή στο έργο του. Και δεν έκανα λάθος.
«Φοβόμουν το άδειο σπίτι και τα κρύα, άδεια δωμάτια. Φοβόμουν τον εαυτό μου και μόνο για να μην πεθάνω από τον τρόμο μου, εξαιτίας της θανάσιμης κατάστασης στην οποία είχα περιέλθει, στρώθηκα κάτω κι έγραψα αυτές τις λίγες σελίδες...» (σελ. 36)
Είναι αναγκαίο, νομίζω, πριν πρωτοδιαβάσει κανείς ιστορίες του Μπέρνχαρντ, να μάθει ορισμένα πράγματα για τη ζωή του: το ότι ήταν νόθο παιδί που μεγάλωσε με τους παππούδες, το ότι έζησε για κάποια χρόνια εσώκλειστος σε καθολικό σχολείο και το ότι είχε από μικρός ιδιαίτερα εύθραυστη υγεία υποφέροντας από αναπνευστικά προβλήματα έπαιξαν σημαντικό ρόλο στην διαμόρφωση της προσωπικότητάς του αλλά και της ταυτότητάς του ως συγγραφέα· κάτι που είναι ιδιαίτερα χαρακτηριστικό στην «Πρόζα».
Όπως καταλαβαίνει εύκολα κανείς, δεν είναι ένα βιβλίο χαρούμενο και «καλοκαιρινό». Όλοι οι ήρωες και των επτά διηγημάτων της συλλογής είναι άνθρωποι ψυχικά τραυματισμένοι και διαταραγμένοι, που δεν έχουν το κουράγιο να κάνουν ο,τιδήποτε άλλο στη ζωή τους από το να διηγηθούν ή να γράψουν τις ιστορίες τους. Ιστορίες είναι γεμάτες μοναξιά, θάνατο, καταπίεση και θλίψη καθώς οι ίδιοι -όπως και ο ίδιος ο Μπέρνχανρντ μέσα από αυτούς- βρίσκονται παγιδευμένοι μέσα στο ίδιο τους το περιβάλλον: κοινωνικό, οικογενειακό, φυσικό, εργασιακό. Όλοι τους, βήμα–βήμα, οδηγούνται προς την αυτοκαταστροφή: Ένας δάσκαλος που πασχίζει να πείσει για την ιδιαιτερότητα της αντίληψής του για τα πράγματα και γι αυτό βασανίζεται από αϋπνίες («Δύο παιδαγωγοί»). Ένας πρώην δασολόγος πνευματικά διαταραγμένος μα «όχι απολύτως τρελός» που βρίσκει μια τραγιάσκα και τη χρησιμοποιεί για να ανακαλύψει τον κοινωνικό του μικρόκοσμο («Η τραγιάσκα»). Ένας φοιτητής, παγιδευμένος στη συγγραφή μιας μελέτης για το θέατρο το οποίο μισεί, που συζητά με έναν τραβεστί («Είναι τραγωδία; Είναι κωμωδία;»). Ένας εργάτης σε λατομείο που ασφυκτιά στην καθημερινότητά του («Γιάουρεκ»). Ένας ξυλοκόπος που βρίσκει την αδελφή ψυχή του στο λαβύρινθο ενός σκοτεινού δάσους ( «Ακόλουθος στη γαλλική πρεσβεία»). Ένας σακάτης νεαρός που οδηγείται στην αυτοκτονία εξ΄αιτίας της απόρριψής του από την ίδια του την οικογένεια («Εγκλημα του γιου ενός εμπόρου από το Ινσμπρουκ»). Ένας πρώην κατάδικος που δεν μπορεί να ξαναβρεί τα βήματά του στη ζωή όταν αποφυλακίζεται («Ο μαραγκός»).
Δεν μπορώ να ξεχωρίσω ποιο διήγημα μου έκανε μεγαλύτερη εντύπωση. Ίσως η παραληρηματική «Τραγιάσκα» και ο μελαγχολικός «Γιό ενός Εμπόρου». Όλα πάντως έχουν ιδιαίτερο ύφος. Άλλωστε, πέρα από τη θεματική, ο αντισυμβατικός τρόπος αφήγησης του Μπέρνχαρτ είναι ένα από τα βασικά προτερήματά του στην «Πρόζα»: υπαρξιακοί μονόλογοι που θυμίζουν ημερολογιακές καταγραφές ή παραληρήματα που ενισχύουν τη σκοτεινή ατμόσφαιρα των ιστοριών. Αν και δεν έχω γνώση του πρωτότυπου κειμένου –δεν θα μπορούσα άλλωστε, μη γνωρίζοντας γερμανικά-, από το ελληνικό που διάβασα θεωρώ πως ο Βασίλης Τσαλής έχει κάνει ωραία δουλειά τουλάχιστον όσον αφορά την απόδοση των μακροσκελών φράσεων και των πολλών ιδιωματισμών («βοϊδοπουτσοξυλιές» χεχεχεχ). Δεν αμφιβάλλω όμως καθόλου για την ποιότητά της. Είναι άλλωστε και ο ίδιος ο μεταφραστής έμπειρος αναγνώστης και βαθύς γνώστης της γερμανόφωνης λογοτεχνίας και φιλοσοφίας.
Το επίμετρό του ήταν για μένα ιδιαίτερα διαφωτιστικό: μία ευσύνοπτη, περιεκτική περιγραφή όλων όσων χρειάζεται να ξέρει ένας «αρχάριος» -σαν κι εμένα- για τον Τόμας Μπέρνχαρντ, αυτόν τον θανάσιμα άρρωστο άνθρωπο, για τις αγωνίες του περί ζωής και θανάτου και τους λόγους για τους οποίους πλέον τοποθετείται (μαζί με τον Βόλφγκανγκ Κέπεν και τον Γκίντερ Γκρας) στην τριάδα των σημαντικότερων γερμανόφωνων δημιουργών μετά το 1945. Στο μέλλον θα επιχειρήσω να διαβάσω και κάποιο από τα μεγαλύτερα έργα του συγγραφέα.
«Φοβόμουν το άδειο σπίτι και τα κρύα, άδεια δωμάτια. Φοβόμουν τον εαυτό μου και μόνο για να μην πεθάνω από τον τρόμο μου, εξαιτίας της θανάσιμης κατάστασης στην οποία είχα περιέλθει, στρώθηκα κάτω κι έγραψα αυτές τις λίγες σελίδες...» (σελ. 36)
Είναι αναγκαίο, νομίζω, πριν πρωτοδιαβάσει κανείς ιστορίες του Μπέρνχαρντ, να μάθει ορισμένα πράγματα για τη ζωή του: το ότι ήταν νόθο παιδί που μεγάλωσε με τους παππούδες, το ότι έζησε για κάποια χρόνια εσώκλειστος σε καθολικό σχολείο και το ότι είχε από μικρός ιδιαίτερα εύθραυστη υγεία υποφέροντας από αναπνευστικά προβλήματα έπαιξαν σημαντικό ρόλο στην διαμόρφωση της προσωπικότητάς του αλλά και της ταυτότητάς του ως συγγραφέα· κάτι που είναι ιδιαίτερα χαρακτηριστικό στην «Πρόζα».
Όπως καταλαβαίνει εύκολα κανείς, δεν είναι ένα βιβλίο χαρούμενο και «καλοκαιρινό». Όλοι οι ήρωες και των επτά διηγημάτων της συλλογής είναι άνθρωποι ψυχικά τραυματισμένοι και διαταραγμένοι, που δεν έχουν το κουράγιο να κάνουν ο,τιδήποτε άλλο στη ζωή τους από το να διηγηθούν ή να γράψουν τις ιστορίες τους. Ιστορίες είναι γεμάτες μοναξιά, θάνατο, καταπίεση και θλίψη καθώς οι ίδιοι -όπως και ο ίδιος ο Μπέρνχανρντ μέσα από αυτούς- βρίσκονται παγιδευμένοι μέσα στο ίδιο τους το περιβάλλον: κοινωνικό, οικογενειακό, φυσικό, εργασιακό. Όλοι τους, βήμα–βήμα, οδηγούνται προς την αυτοκαταστροφή: Ένας δάσκαλος που πασχίζει να πείσει για την ιδιαιτερότητα της αντίληψής του για τα πράγματα και γι αυτό βασανίζεται από αϋπνίες («Δύο παιδαγωγοί»). Ένας πρώην δασολόγος πνευματικά διαταραγμένος μα «όχι απολύτως τρελός» που βρίσκει μια τραγιάσκα και τη χρησιμοποιεί για να ανακαλύψει τον κοινωνικό του μικρόκοσμο («Η τραγιάσκα»). Ένας φοιτητής, παγιδευμένος στη συγγραφή μιας μελέτης για το θέατρο το οποίο μισεί, που συζητά με έναν τραβεστί («Είναι τραγωδία; Είναι κωμωδία;»). Ένας εργάτης σε λατομείο που ασφυκτιά στην καθημερινότητά του («Γιάουρεκ»). Ένας ξυλοκόπος που βρίσκει την αδελφή ψυχή του στο λαβύρινθο ενός σκοτεινού δάσους ( «Ακόλουθος στη γαλλική πρεσβεία»). Ένας σακάτης νεαρός που οδηγείται στην αυτοκτονία εξ΄αιτίας της απόρριψής του από την ίδια του την οικογένεια («Εγκλημα του γιου ενός εμπόρου από το Ινσμπρουκ»). Ένας πρώην κατάδικος που δεν μπορεί να ξαναβρεί τα βήματά του στη ζωή όταν αποφυλακίζεται («Ο μαραγκός»).
Δεν μπορώ να ξεχωρίσω ποιο διήγημα μου έκανε μεγαλύτερη εντύπωση. Ίσως η παραληρηματική «Τραγιάσκα» και ο μελαγχολικός «Γιό ενός Εμπόρου». Όλα πάντως έχουν ιδιαίτερο ύφος. Άλλωστε, πέρα από τη θεματική, ο αντισυμβατικός τρόπος αφήγησης του Μπέρνχαρτ είναι ένα από τα βασικά προτερήματά του στην «Πρόζα»: υπαρξιακοί μονόλογοι που θυμίζουν ημερολογιακές καταγραφές ή παραληρήματα που ενισχύουν τη σκοτεινή ατμόσφαιρα των ιστοριών. Αν και δεν έχω γνώση του πρωτότυπου κειμένου –δεν θα μπορούσα άλλωστε, μη γνωρίζοντας γερμανικά-, από το ελληνικό που διάβασα θεωρώ πως ο Βασίλης Τσαλής έχει κάνει ωραία δουλειά τουλάχιστον όσον αφορά την απόδοση των μακροσκελών φράσεων και των πολλών ιδιωματισμών («βοϊδοπουτσοξυλιές» χεχεχεχ). Δεν αμφιβάλλω όμως καθόλου για την ποιότητά της. Είναι άλλωστε και ο ίδιος ο μεταφραστής έμπειρος αναγνώστης και βαθύς γνώστης της γερμανόφωνης λογοτεχνίας και φιλοσοφίας.
Το επίμετρό του ήταν για μένα ιδιαίτερα διαφωτιστικό: μία ευσύνοπτη, περιεκτική περιγραφή όλων όσων χρειάζεται να ξέρει ένας «αρχάριος» -σαν κι εμένα- για τον Τόμας Μπέρνχαρντ, αυτόν τον θανάσιμα άρρωστο άνθρωπο, για τις αγωνίες του περί ζωής και θανάτου και τους λόγους για τους οποίους πλέον τοποθετείται (μαζί με τον Βόλφγκανγκ Κέπεν και τον Γκίντερ Γκρας) στην τριάδα των σημαντικότερων γερμανόφωνων δημιουργών μετά το 1945. Στο μέλλον θα επιχειρήσω να διαβάσω και κάποιο από τα μεγαλύτερα έργα του συγγραφέα.
August 16, 2015
Αυτά τα εφτά διηγήματα είναι μια πολύ καλή εισαγωγή για όποιον δεν γνωρίζει ένα σπουδαίο συγγραφέα. Εγώ είχα διαβάσει την Αυτοβιογραφία του πριν είκοσι χρόνια από τον Εξάντα, οπότε δεν ήμουν ανυποψίαστος. Κοίταζα το βιβλίο εδώ και τρεις μήνες στη βιβλιοθήκη μου και αναρωτιόμουν αν έχω το κουράγιο να ξαναμπώ στον κόσμο του. Ο κόσμος του Bernhard δεν είναι όμορφος ούτε ευτυχισμένος, είναι γεμάτος ζόφο, μοναξιά, ψυχοπάθεια και καταπίεση. Ήταν όλα εκεί μέσα στις μακρόσυρτες γεμάτες επαναλήψεις προτάσεις που με έκαναν να αισθάνομαι άβολα. Στις παραγράφους που ξαναδιάβαζα φωναχτά για να ακούω τις λέξεις που σχημάτιζαν την φράση. Υπήρχαν κομμάτια που δεν έφευγαν από το μυαλό μου ότι και να έκανα κατά τη διάρκεια της μέρας. Κινιόμουν ανάμεσα στον κόσμο και με το παραμικρό συμβάν οι εικόνες του έρχονταν να με ταρακουνήσουν. Όταν το τελειώσα δεν ήθελα να διαβάσω τίποτα άλλο για αυτό το ξαναδιάβασα δεύτερη φορά.
Να δώσω τα συγχαρητήρια μου στο μεταφραστή που μετέφερε τόσο ωραία τον κόσμο του Bernhard στην ελληνική γλώσσα.
Υπάρχουν βιβλία καλά και κακά. Για τα κακά λες δεν πειράζει πάμε για άλλα. Τα καλά τα κλείνεις με ένα αίσθημα ευδαιμονίας, τα πολύ καλά θα τα συζητήσεις με τους φίλους σου και θα τα θυμάσαι για καιρό, ίσως και για πάντα. Υπάρχουν όμως και βιβλία που είναι απλώς σημαντικά που είναι καθαρή λογοτεχνία. Αυτά τα βιβλία είναι σπάνια και τα φυλάς στο προσωπικό σου σεντούκι. Αυτό είναι ένα σημαντικό βιβλίο.
Να δώσω τα συγχαρητήρια μου στο μεταφραστή που μετέφερε τόσο ωραία τον κόσμο του Bernhard στην ελληνική γλώσσα.
Υπάρχουν βιβλία καλά και κακά. Για τα κακά λες δεν πειράζει πάμε για άλλα. Τα καλά τα κλείνεις με ένα αίσθημα ευδαιμονίας, τα πολύ καλά θα τα συζητήσεις με τους φίλους σου και θα τα θυμάσαι για καιρό, ίσως και για πάντα. Υπάρχουν όμως και βιβλία που είναι απλώς σημαντικά που είναι καθαρή λογοτεχνία. Αυτά τα βιβλία είναι σπάνια και τα φυλάς στο προσωπικό σου σεντούκι. Αυτό είναι ένα σημαντικό βιβλίο.
March 14, 2020
"One describes best what one hates."
Yet another tremendous collection of shorter pieces by everyone's favorite hater. Those inured or immune to Bernhard's novels will find these as exasperatingly fun as his novels, but will want more than TB gives you. In some ways, his work works really well in shorter, thriftier dollops, since the frenetic, nervous pace of his style comes across more dramatically in abbreviated form. The stories here, strangely, focus on crime and punishment, or justifications for crime and punishment, usually the former, the latter only incidental and of little worth.
A college tutor shoots something outside his window. A man obsesses over a hat he finds in the street. A man wearing a woman's shoes leads the narrator into darkness. A vague crime leads the narrator into banal employment. An uncle meets a fine young man in the forest and doesn't think about guns. A deformed poet suffers his family. A convicted criminal visits the lawyer who defended him.
Sublime literary treats! "We feared the consequences of all thought."
Yet another tremendous collection of shorter pieces by everyone's favorite hater. Those inured or immune to Bernhard's novels will find these as exasperatingly fun as his novels, but will want more than TB gives you. In some ways, his work works really well in shorter, thriftier dollops, since the frenetic, nervous pace of his style comes across more dramatically in abbreviated form. The stories here, strangely, focus on crime and punishment, or justifications for crime and punishment, usually the former, the latter only incidental and of little worth.
A college tutor shoots something outside his window. A man obsesses over a hat he finds in the street. A man wearing a woman's shoes leads the narrator into darkness. A vague crime leads the narrator into banal employment. An uncle meets a fine young man in the forest and doesn't think about guns. A deformed poet suffers his family. A convicted criminal visits the lawyer who defended him.
Sublime literary treats! "We feared the consequences of all thought."
October 5, 2015
Θα μπορούσα απλά να αντιγράψω τα όσα έγραψα για το Πόλεμος και πόλεμος του Krasznahorkai και να σημειώνω ακριβώς τα όσα ένιωσα για την Πρόζα του Bernhard, ίσως με μοναδική ουσιώδη διαφορά την αντικατάσταση της κυνικότητας του ενός με την ψυχοπάθεια του άλλου.
Το ύφος των διηγημάτων είναι υποβλητικό, η ροή τους είναι παραληρηματική και όλα αυτά μοιάζουν σα να μη συμβαίνουν από εκούσια επιλογή του Bernhard αλλά να πηγάζουν αυτούσια από τη διάθεση και τον οίστρο των χαρακτήρων και αφηγητών του. Δεν είναι ένα βιβλίο που στηρίζεται στην πλοκή του, αλλά ένα βιβλίο που, όπως και ο Krasznahorkai, ξεχωρίζει για τον τρόπο γραφής και αφήγησης που παρουσιάζει ο Γερμανός συγγραφέας.
Για ακόμη μια φορά όμως παρατηρώ πως μου λείπει αυτό το ένζυμο που θα με κάνει να εμπλακώ, που θα με κάνει να ΑΙΣΘΑΝΘΩ ΠΡΑΓΜΑΤΑ, που θα με σπρώξει στο να θεωρήσω ένα τέτοιο βιβλίο σημαντικό για μένα. Είναι εξαιρετική η άσκηση πάνω στη χρήση της λογοτεχνικής γλώσσας και πρέπει να το δοκιμάσουν όσοι θέλουν να εξερευνούν διαφορετικές λογοτεχνικές τεχνοτροπίες [άλλωστε είναι μόλις 120 σελίδες], αλλά αν είναι αυτό αρκετό θα το αποφασίσει ο καθένας μόνος του. Για μένα τα 3,5*/5 είναι αρκετά.
Υ.Γ. Έτσι γράφονται τα μικρά, περιεκτικά, καθόλου κουραστικά και πολύ ενδιαφέρονται επίμετρα που προσθέτουν στην αξία του βιβλίου. Πάρτε μαθήματα.
Το ύφος των διηγημάτων είναι υποβλητικό, η ροή τους είναι παραληρηματική και όλα αυτά μοιάζουν σα να μη συμβαίνουν από εκούσια επιλογή του Bernhard αλλά να πηγάζουν αυτούσια από τη διάθεση και τον οίστρο των χαρακτήρων και αφηγητών του. Δεν είναι ένα βιβλίο που στηρίζεται στην πλοκή του, αλλά ένα βιβλίο που, όπως και ο Krasznahorkai, ξεχωρίζει για τον τρόπο γραφής και αφήγησης που παρουσιάζει ο Γερμανός συγγραφέας.
Για ακόμη μια φορά όμως παρατηρώ πως μου λείπει αυτό το ένζυμο που θα με κάνει να εμπλακώ, που θα με κάνει να ΑΙΣΘΑΝΘΩ ΠΡΑΓΜΑΤΑ, που θα με σπρώξει στο να θεωρήσω ένα τέτοιο βιβλίο σημαντικό για μένα. Είναι εξαιρετική η άσκηση πάνω στη χρήση της λογοτεχνικής γλώσσας και πρέπει να το δοκιμάσουν όσοι θέλουν να εξερευνούν διαφορετικές λογοτεχνικές τεχνοτροπίες [άλλωστε είναι μόλις 120 σελίδες], αλλά αν είναι αυτό αρκετό θα το αποφασίσει ο καθένας μόνος του. Για μένα τα 3,5*/5 είναι αρκετά.
Υ.Γ. Έτσι γράφονται τα μικρά, περιεκτικά, καθόλου κουραστικά και πολύ ενδιαφέρονται επίμετρα που προσθέτουν στην αξία του βιβλίου. Πάρτε μαθήματα.
August 7, 2013
Thomas Bernhard is one of my favorite writers for many reasons, but the truest reason is I think he's being honest with me. There was not a story in this book I did not love. It is a fine book of short stories no matter what anybody smarter than me thinks. His stories take me round and round and supersaturate me with the details. Rarely are there happy endings in any of his stories. Not even one happy ending comes to mind. There are solutions in a Bernhard story, though sometimes not so nice solutions. There are murders and suicides galore as well as insanity in a Bernhard tale.
The latest book of Bernhard's that I have read completely from front to back is titled simply Prose. Seven beautiful tales of crime committed in one fashion or another. Not a mystery book at all, Bernhard leaves little to the imagination. It is obvious what is happening if you read the stories carefully enough. He gives you almost all the information to have a complete understanding of what you have just witnessed. He also makes some of us complicit and that is always exciting for a saint like me. The following is a paragraph taken from the afterword of the book where the translator gives his take on things.
"These crimes may be the incidents on which the narrative turns, but Bernhard is more interested in the punishment which precedes the act legally defined as a crime: the sleeplessness of the tutor which has become unbearable, the incomprehension of the family of the Innsbruck shopkeeper's son who may or may not be disabled or disfigured in some way, but whose greater offence, in the eyes of his parents and his sisters, is that he writes poetry and is not fit to take over the family business."
The latest book of Bernhard's that I have read completely from front to back is titled simply Prose. Seven beautiful tales of crime committed in one fashion or another. Not a mystery book at all, Bernhard leaves little to the imagination. It is obvious what is happening if you read the stories carefully enough. He gives you almost all the information to have a complete understanding of what you have just witnessed. He also makes some of us complicit and that is always exciting for a saint like me. The following is a paragraph taken from the afterword of the book where the translator gives his take on things.
"These crimes may be the incidents on which the narrative turns, but Bernhard is more interested in the punishment which precedes the act legally defined as a crime: the sleeplessness of the tutor which has become unbearable, the incomprehension of the family of the Innsbruck shopkeeper's son who may or may not be disabled or disfigured in some way, but whose greater offence, in the eyes of his parents and his sisters, is that he writes poetry and is not fit to take over the family business."
May 7, 2021
Είχα την εικόνα πως είμαι σε ένα παγωμένο ολλανδικό δάσος, πως βρέθηκα τυχαία εκεί και πως δεν έχω ιδέα πώς θα βγω. Είναι ξεκάθαρο πως κάνω κύκλους, γιατί βλέπω παντού τα ίδια σημάδια και είμαι τόσο καιρό εκεί που έχω ξεχάσει. Έχω ξεχάσει εάν έβαλα εγώ τα σημάδια, εάν είμαι άνθρωπος, ζώο, ή κάποια άλλη βασανισμένη ύπαρξη. Άλλοτε τρέχω με κομμένη την ανάσα, άλλοτε ουρλιάζω και δεν με ακούει κανείς. Κάποια στιγμή θα βγω σε κάποια ψυχρή, ακίνητη λίμνη, όπου μέσα της θα ξέρω πως έχει μόνο θάνατο. Δεν θα υπάρχει κάποια απειλή, δεν θα με κυνηγάει κανείς. Η φρίκη θα είναι ο βουβός ουρανός χωρίς πουλιά, οι πυκνές και άδειες αναπνοές, η αδιανόητη μοναξιά και η βεβαιότητα πως δεν υπάρχει κάτι άλλο εδώ, εκτός από τα ψηλά σκούρα δέντρα και η ατάραχη λίμνη με το ομοιόμορφο ατμοσφαιρικό χρώμα. Το δάσος έχει εξερευνηθεί, ξέρω κάθε πέτρα, κάθε κλαδάκι, κάθε λυγισμένο κορμό. Μένει να το πάρω κάποτε απόφαση και πάω να μελετήσω την λίμνη. Αλλά δεν αντέχω να το κάνω, γιατί φοβάμαι πως είμαι κι εγώ κομμάτι της και εάν πλησιάσω, όλα θα αποκτήσουν κάποιο σκοτεινό νόημα. Είμαι βέβαιη πως με αφορά η λίμνη, διότι είναι όλα θέμα κατάποσης τελικά. Ποιος θα καταπιεί ποιόν, ποιος θα ενσωματώσει ποιόν.
Αυτό είναι το μυαλό μου στην πένα του Μπέρνχαρντ και ευχαρίστως να το αφήσω εκεί για πάντα.
Κάπου είδα, κάποιος να του πλέκει το εγκώμιο και έτσι έγινε και πρόσθεσα ένα βιβλίο του στο wishlist μου, από περιέργεια. Σε ευχαριστώ άγνωστε που το έκανες, δεν έχω ιδέα που σε είδα. Έκανα το ίδιο με την λίμνη μου, με την ελπίδα να πείσω τον επόμενο αναγνώστη (is this a cult?) να πάρει ένα βιβλίο του.
Σκοτεινός, πανέμορφος, καταθλιπτικός, ευφυής, να υποφέρει στην ναζιστική Γερμανία. Ιδιαίτερα άρρωστος μέσα και έξω από σανατόρια. Στην πλάτη του υπάρχει ένας πατέρας που δεν τον ανα(γνωρίζει) και στην πορεία αυτοκτονεί. Δεν μπορώ να γράψω άλλα γιατί δεν τα ξέρω, αλλά θα τα μάθω. Τι καλύτερο από το να θες να διαβάσεις τα πάντα που έχει γράψει κάποιος;
Μια γουλιά ακόμα Μπέρνχαρντ.
Υ. γ. Οι ήρωες του με τους ανεξήγητους πονοκεφάλους είναι φίλοι μου, τόσο φίλοι μου.
Αυτό είναι το μυαλό μου στην πένα του Μπέρνχαρντ και ευχαρίστως να το αφήσω εκεί για πάντα.
Κάπου είδα, κάποιος να του πλέκει το εγκώμιο και έτσι έγινε και πρόσθεσα ένα βιβλίο του στο wishlist μου, από περιέργεια. Σε ευχαριστώ άγνωστε που το έκανες, δεν έχω ιδέα που σε είδα. Έκανα το ίδιο με την λίμνη μου, με την ελπίδα να πείσω τον επόμενο αναγνώστη (is this a cult?) να πάρει ένα βιβλίο του.
Σκοτεινός, πανέμορφος, καταθλιπτικός, ευφυής, να υποφέρει στην ναζιστική Γερμανία. Ιδιαίτερα άρρωστος μέσα και έξω από σανατόρια. Στην πλάτη του υπάρχει ένας πατέρας που δεν τον ανα(γνωρίζει) και στην πορεία αυτοκτονεί. Δεν μπορώ να γράψω άλλα γιατί δεν τα ξέρω, αλλά θα τα μάθω. Τι καλύτερο από το να θες να διαβάσεις τα πάντα που έχει γράψει κάποιος;
Μια γουλιά ακόμα Μπέρνχαρντ.
Υ. γ. Οι ήρωες του με τους ανεξήγητους πονοκεφάλους είναι φίλοι μου, τόσο φίλοι μου.
September 22, 2015
Πρώτη μου επαφή με τον Μπέρνχαρντ και ομολογώ κάπως παράξενη.
Διηγήματα βαθιά... ενοχλητικά, που όμως με απορρόφησαν πλήρως. Η παραλήρηματική γραφή, ενώ συνήθως με κουράζει, εδώ με παρέσυρε και δεν μπορούσα να σταματήσω την ανάγνωση.
Ιδιαίτερα διαφωτιστικό και καλογραμμένο το επίμετρο.
Διηγήματα βαθιά... ενοχλητικά, που όμως με απορρόφησαν πλήρως. Η παραλήρηματική γραφή, ενώ συνήθως με κουράζει, εδώ με παρέσυρε και δεν μπορούσα να σταματήσω την ανάγνωση.
Ιδιαίτερα διαφωτιστικό και καλογραμμένο το επίμετρο.
April 2, 2016
Εκπληκτικό!
March 11, 2018
"His manner of speaking, like that of all the subordinated, excluded, was awkward, like a body full of wounds into which at any time anyone can strew salt, yet so insistent that it is painful to listen to it." (145)One of Bernhard's first writings jobs—in the early 1950s���was as a reporter at the courts for a Salzburg newspaper. In 1967, a collection of seven stories was published as Prosa (Prose). All of the stories in Prose are in one way or another about crime; crime, guilt, discipline, and punishment. It is a bleak collection, even by Bernardian standards, filled with cruelty and deaths and insanity and suicides. In other words, definitely worth reading, even if some of the stories are better than others.
August 20, 2010
A story in this early collection (1967) is titled "Is It A Comedy? Is It A Tragedy?" That's been the question for me through all the Bernhard I've read. I laugh a lot. But I laugh at rants about suicide and governmental ineptitude and general hatefulness. It's not American humor at all. It's not English humor. It's that tricky Germanic/Kafkan humor that's not really "funny" but strikes something in you that makes you make a noise like laughter. Todd Solondz does that, too (just saw "Life During Wartime"). Ultimately, the comedy?/tragedy? story (this isn't really a "spoiler") states that it's a comedy, although there's nothing particularly "funny" about a crossdresser revealing that he pushed his mother into a canal 22 years and 8 months ago. A few other stories overtly mention "comedy," something I think pretty much lacking from other books, even "hilarious" ones like Woodcutters. Regardless, intermittent ocular application of Bernhard's wholly individuated style/sense -- no matter early or later (usually considered better) Bernhard -- makes me appreciate my comparatively well-adjusted consciousness/life. I need to read this again, and since the stories are short compared to his 155-page, one-paragraph rants, I might be able to read a lot of it again before the night's over. An OK intro to his stuff (better to start with Woodcutters and The Loser: A Novel). Seemed a little like story-length versions of the page-long bits in The Voice Imitator -- that is, the stories are humanized elaborations of crimes you might read about in the paper, rather than the intricate thoughtwork of superobsessive geniuses. A nicely constructed hardcover book -- cool cover, red boards, solid binding -- from a small press.
March 25, 2021
« Ο κόσμος, κατά τον Μπερνχαρντ, είναι μια παγίδα, ένας δυσοίωνος τόπος, με τον οποίο ωστόσο πρέπει να συμφιλιωθούμε.»
November 3, 2021
I appreciate Thomas Bernhard very much as a playwright and wanted to see what kind of a writer he is when it comes to prose, especially short stories. This is a very good collection for his fans but I wouldn’t recommend to start your friendship with him with this book.
In all the stories protagonists are men in some form of distress or afflicted by some mental illness. I think Bernhard is very good when it comes to describing their state of mind, which was often called ‘madness’ or seen as eccentricity. The men in question either suffer from OCD, psychosis or depression or have some sort of personality disorders. Their problems, dilemmas or circumstances - which their illness prevents them from perceiving clearly and dealing with swiftly - are presented mainly from their points of view. However, I expected more depth, better structured stories, with more conclusive endings or some form of punchlines. All the stories seem to me to be unfinished as if they were mere drafts. As for language, Bernhard is known for his extremely long sentences, which couldn’t work so well in English. I had a very clear impression that I was reading a translation. Bernhard’s German is slightly theatrical, pompous but the English translation sounds simply dated.
The collection is interesting but as a result of all the above not particularly moving or leaving a lasting impression. I will remember one, maybe two stories, but I will not be reaching for more of Bernhard’s prose.
In all the stories protagonists are men in some form of distress or afflicted by some mental illness. I think Bernhard is very good when it comes to describing their state of mind, which was often called ‘madness’ or seen as eccentricity. The men in question either suffer from OCD, psychosis or depression or have some sort of personality disorders. Their problems, dilemmas or circumstances - which their illness prevents them from perceiving clearly and dealing with swiftly - are presented mainly from their points of view. However, I expected more depth, better structured stories, with more conclusive endings or some form of punchlines. All the stories seem to me to be unfinished as if they were mere drafts. As for language, Bernhard is known for his extremely long sentences, which couldn’t work so well in English. I had a very clear impression that I was reading a translation. Bernhard’s German is slightly theatrical, pompous but the English translation sounds simply dated.
The collection is interesting but as a result of all the above not particularly moving or leaving a lasting impression. I will remember one, maybe two stories, but I will not be reaching for more of Bernhard’s prose.
December 12, 2016
Θαύμασα την ιδιαίτερη γραφή. Πέραν τούτου ουδέν. Περισσότερο απόλαυσα όσα είχα διαβάσει παλιότερα σχετικά με τον Μπερνχαρτ και το έργο του από τρίτους, παρά αυτήν την πρώτη μου επαφή με το έργο του. Προφανώς, κρίμα για μένα, και προφανώς δεν αμφισβητώ την κοινώς αποδεκτή σπουδαιότητά του. Απλώς(;) εμένα δεν μου είπε απολύτως τίποτε.
February 19, 2024
Loved these “Bernhardian narrators, with their contradictory, long-winded yet breathless testimonies and self-defense.” Such a treat, such a pleasure these dark, twisted, elusive and fabulous stories were, of crime and punishment, of helplessness and despair, of mental illness and death and suicide. Brilliant, wondrous, and full of (restless) life. Bernhard forever. ✨
August 9, 2011
The New York Times Reviewer (Dale Peck) places Bernhard in a literary tradition that, "In lieu of offering a rational critique of the world they inhabit, the antiheroes of the second tradition simply hate or reject it, just as their creators, far from seeing literature as a tool for cultural or even individual salvation, write only to give voice to a sense of alienation from oneself, one’s peers and one’s place in history." Bernhard's brutal style reached its final and most powerful locution beginning in Correction and ending in the aptly named Extinction. Before that, though, we can see him begin to work out his themes and techniques in early works like Prose and Frost, which was published a few years ago by Alfred Knopf. In Prose, the familiar cranky narrator is present ("All my life I have led only an awful life, and it is my right to lead an awful life, and this awful life is my sleeplessness..."), but it takes him a while to get cranked up. Early works of Bernhard can certainly be read for the light they throw on his mature works, but it is a cold and thin light. Bernhard at his best (worst?) can be enchanting, in a horrible way: his ranting, his over-the-top rhetoric, his mania are all devastatingly funny and comforting, in a strange way (thank heaven I don't live inside this man's head). But those elements of style that make his late works so engrossing are not so pleasant to read while he is learning to use them. These early works, I'm sorry to say, offer interest too faint to make up for the inevitable queasiness brought on by Bernhard's immature style.
December 29, 2024
«….•νόμοι και νομοθέτες και καθημερινοί άξεστοι εκμηδενιστές όλων των νόμων πορευόμασταν οι δύο μας, μαζί από ένα σημείο και πέρα, και σαν από πάντα μαζί, και δια του συνολικού μεγαλειώδους νοσηρού σχεδίου των χρωμάτων, μέσω του οποίου η φύση αποτύπωνε στον καθένα μας τον πλέον οδυνηρό από όλους τους ανθρώπινους πόνους.»
February 6, 2024
"One describes best what one hates, I thought."
January 2, 2016
Ομορφο και μικρο, με μικρες ιστοριες που ωστοσο φωτιζουν αρκετα το συμπαν του κυριου Bernhard..Εδώ δε θα βρεις τη μακροπεριοδο αλλα θα βρεθεις σε εναν σκοτεινο και υγρο κοσμο με χαρακτηρες παραξενους, ιδιαιτερους και τοσο εμμονικους..Το επιμετρο του μεταφραστη ειναι βοηθητικο και σε καθοδηγει στον ευθραυστο συμπαν του Bernhard. Ο μεταφραστης ακολουθει τη μπακετα του συγγραφέα χωρις να χανεται στις λεξεις. Από ολες τις ιστοριες ξεχωριζω με σειρα προτιμησης: "Είναι τραγωδία; Είναι κωμωδία;", "Γιάουρεκ", "Το έγκλημα του γιου ενός εμπόρου από το Ίνσμπρουκ", "Η τραγιάσκα".
October 21, 2016
I was a bit sceptical, but it turns out that Bernhard's stories are excellent, though not as good as his novels. That's okay, because his novels are amazing. His stories are just a little less amazing. I read them, admittedly, with the novels in mind, and the difference is pretty obvious: the stories, like the novels, take one incident, and tell us about it a bit. But the incident bulks larger in the stories than it does in the novels, where the telling takes up most of the text. They are, not coincidentally, less memorable than the novels.
January 17, 2016
Μια πολύ καλή εισαγωγή στο έργο του Bernhard, για το οποίο έχω ακούσει μόνο επαίνους.
July 14, 2015
"It is true that we, the new tutor and myself, the old one, have [not] been able, until this moment, to manage a single conversation; the remarks on the unusual weather conditions, on colours, the egoism of nature, abrupt excesses on the surface of the Alpine foothills, on books, read and unread, on the catastrophic lack of interest of all pupils in their studies, on our own lack of interest, on eating and sleeping, truth and lies, chiefly, however, on the most shabby neglect, on the part of those responsible, of the forest paths on which we walk, are not conversations; our remarks destroy our will to converse, our remarks, like remarks altogether, the 'attempts at capturing the moment', as he calls them, have nothing to do with the conversation. Here on the Mönchsberg we make, as we walk, walking and thinking, each for himself and completely isolated, hundreds of remarks, but we have not yet succeeded in having a conversation, we do not tolerate a conversation." from the story "Two Tutors"
Prosa was written in 1967, but published in this translation in 2010 by the wonderful Seagull Books who have bought so many German language novels into English.
The translator is Martin Chalmers, another to add to my growing list for Thomas Bernhard which now reads, of books I've read: Martin Chalmers (also Victor Halfwit), Peter Jansen (Three Novellas - Amras), Kenneth Northcott (Voice Imitators & Three Novellas - Playing Watten & Walking), Michael Hoffman (Frost), Richard and Clara Winston (Gargoyle), Sophie Wilkins (Lime Works & Correction), Ewald Osers (Yes & Old Masters, also the hard-to-obtain Cheap Eaters and an earlier translation of Woodcutters), David McLintock (Concrete, Wittgenstein's Nephew, Extinction & Woodcutters), Jack Dawson (Loser), Carol Brown Janeway (My Prizes), Meredith Oakes and Andrea Tierney (Heldenplatz), Russell Stockman (On the Mountain). And in addition I'm aware of translations by Gita Honneger (author also of a biography of Bernhard), Michael Mitchell, David Horrocks, Peter Eyre & Tom Cairns and James Reidel (various stories, plays and poems).
In my last Bernhard review I said "It is testament to the power and distinctiveness of Bernhard's narrative voice that it shines through consistently in English." Here, I wasn't so impressed, at times, by the English prose, although not having read the original, I'm unsure whether the issues simply carry over from the original German. At times Bernhard's famously tortuous sentences here seem to lose their way, and I also noticed a few obvious errors, albeit these may be typos, for example, the missing "not" in the quote that opens the review, and a line that reads "I have no time whatsover for a study" - where the "a" in context seems wrong (he's not got time for the act of studying, rather than, say, using or building a study room).
As for the book itself, this is early Bernhard and so not as powerful as the more mature works and the different stories are somewhat variable in quality.
Mostly the stories are (typically Berhardian) second hand psychological accounts of criminal/suicidal acts. The characters are, as so often in his work, "always close to going completely mad, but not completely mad' (oddly this is translated differently as "but yet not completely crazy” in the dustjacket blurb).
And the narration follows Bernhard's trademark style, albeit not fully developed, best explained by two of the characters. The narrator of "The Cap" admits, after a lengthy explanation "All of that could be said in a single sentence, as everything can be said in a single sentence, but no one is able to say everything in a single sentence." (although of course in a Bernhard novel, sentences can by very long). And the narration both strides forward powerfully but circles back on itself, as the protagonist of 'Is it a comedy? Is it a tragedy?' describes how he walks: "He had, for eleven hours uninterruptedly - 'without interruption,' he said - been walking with a single thought, 'not up and down,' he said, but 'always straight ahead, yet as I now see,' he said, 'always in a circle.'"
This indeed is the standout story of the collection. The indirect speaker walks up and down, wearing woman's clothes, hoping to accost strangers (including the narrator) on the pretence of asking the time, in order to tell them, Ancient Mariner like, his story in biting prose. Although Bernhard being Bernhard the narrator himself isn't without his psychological oddities.
And all of the familiar themes and settings are present in the various short stories, humourous vitriol against both Vienna and cultured society ("I hate the actors: the theatre is nothing but a perfidious impertinence") but also rural communities ("the ugly village of Parschallen, where there are eight butchers, although there are less than a hundred people in the village, just imagine: eight butchers and less than a hundred people"), foresty and quarries, long walks, madness and suicide, and of course long walks and 'conversations' which are, in reality, two simultaneous monologues, as per the opening quote.
Overall, an accessible introduction to Thomas Bernhard, including a helpful afterword from the translator, and a worthwhile edition to his overall works, but not at the standard of the later novels.
Prosa was written in 1967, but published in this translation in 2010 by the wonderful Seagull Books who have bought so many German language novels into English.
The translator is Martin Chalmers, another to add to my growing list for Thomas Bernhard which now reads, of books I've read: Martin Chalmers (also Victor Halfwit), Peter Jansen (Three Novellas - Amras), Kenneth Northcott (Voice Imitators & Three Novellas - Playing Watten & Walking), Michael Hoffman (Frost), Richard and Clara Winston (Gargoyle), Sophie Wilkins (Lime Works & Correction), Ewald Osers (Yes & Old Masters, also the hard-to-obtain Cheap Eaters and an earlier translation of Woodcutters), David McLintock (Concrete, Wittgenstein's Nephew, Extinction & Woodcutters), Jack Dawson (Loser), Carol Brown Janeway (My Prizes), Meredith Oakes and Andrea Tierney (Heldenplatz), Russell Stockman (On the Mountain). And in addition I'm aware of translations by Gita Honneger (author also of a biography of Bernhard), Michael Mitchell, David Horrocks, Peter Eyre & Tom Cairns and James Reidel (various stories, plays and poems).
In my last Bernhard review I said "It is testament to the power and distinctiveness of Bernhard's narrative voice that it shines through consistently in English." Here, I wasn't so impressed, at times, by the English prose, although not having read the original, I'm unsure whether the issues simply carry over from the original German. At times Bernhard's famously tortuous sentences here seem to lose their way, and I also noticed a few obvious errors, albeit these may be typos, for example, the missing "not" in the quote that opens the review, and a line that reads "I have no time whatsover for a study" - where the "a" in context seems wrong (he's not got time for the act of studying, rather than, say, using or building a study room).
As for the book itself, this is early Bernhard and so not as powerful as the more mature works and the different stories are somewhat variable in quality.
Mostly the stories are (typically Berhardian) second hand psychological accounts of criminal/suicidal acts. The characters are, as so often in his work, "always close to going completely mad, but not completely mad' (oddly this is translated differently as "but yet not completely crazy” in the dustjacket blurb).
And the narration follows Bernhard's trademark style, albeit not fully developed, best explained by two of the characters. The narrator of "The Cap" admits, after a lengthy explanation "All of that could be said in a single sentence, as everything can be said in a single sentence, but no one is able to say everything in a single sentence." (although of course in a Bernhard novel, sentences can by very long). And the narration both strides forward powerfully but circles back on itself, as the protagonist of 'Is it a comedy? Is it a tragedy?' describes how he walks: "He had, for eleven hours uninterruptedly - 'without interruption,' he said - been walking with a single thought, 'not up and down,' he said, but 'always straight ahead, yet as I now see,' he said, 'always in a circle.'"
This indeed is the standout story of the collection. The indirect speaker walks up and down, wearing woman's clothes, hoping to accost strangers (including the narrator) on the pretence of asking the time, in order to tell them, Ancient Mariner like, his story in biting prose. Although Bernhard being Bernhard the narrator himself isn't without his psychological oddities.
And all of the familiar themes and settings are present in the various short stories, humourous vitriol against both Vienna and cultured society ("I hate the actors: the theatre is nothing but a perfidious impertinence") but also rural communities ("the ugly village of Parschallen, where there are eight butchers, although there are less than a hundred people in the village, just imagine: eight butchers and less than a hundred people"), foresty and quarries, long walks, madness and suicide, and of course long walks and 'conversations' which are, in reality, two simultaneous monologues, as per the opening quote.
Overall, an accessible introduction to Thomas Bernhard, including a helpful afterword from the translator, and a worthwhile edition to his overall works, but not at the standard of the later novels.
June 23, 2024
Probably not the most gripping of Bernhard’s books, but the last story “The Carpenter”, which is the longest, is a fascinating meditation on the existence of evil, its roots, the ways in which society attempts to repress it, and the possibility or impossibility of redemption. Makes the entire collection worthwhile, and will definitely color my reading of Bernhard’s work from here on.
May 21, 2020
3½. A few duds, but "The Cap" alone made the worth the price I paid for it.
October 4, 2020
A collection of short stories, a tad on the obscure side. The characters are darkly funny as the characters incite both pity and a laugh. Or perhaps it is a laugh out of pity?
July 24, 2022
🌟🌟🌟🌠/5 αστερια
April 7, 2023
3.5, quite a memorable glimpse and perhaps, a delight introduction towards Bernhard's oeuvre. personally love "Is it a comedy? Is it a tragedy?" the most.
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