If I've counted correctly, Germans can/could watch Dinner for One
(The 90th Birthday) 23 times today on different TV channels, between 11:40 and 23:40, and also in different German dialects,
including Schwiizerdütsch.
Very strange folks, the Germans.
Well, judge for yourself.
Tiny tip-off: Be absolutely determined not to laugh.
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... and Peace on Earth A child's born. Its 'cross': malnutrition. About 10,000 times a day. So Merry Christmas then, and peace on Earth. And after the mass enjoy the masses on your table. Sumptuous meals, a Lucullan feast. After all, (billions of) individuals can't change the world, can they? May the Lord care for the poor souls! Fucking hypocrites! |
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| Star of the Unborn (1945/46), science-fiction novel |
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| Tibetan girl (Liu Yun Sheng - 1937) Relats conjunts |
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| Describes the sound of splashing or spraying liquid, or fish jumping out of the water. |
* [For first time visitors]:
Typo in the title? Nah. It's just that
I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.
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| Wish she could celebrate her 95th birthday, today. I do. |
Edna O'Brien (15 December 1930 – 27 July 2024)
“History is said to be written by the victors. Fiction, by contrast, is largely the work of injured bystanders.”
Books everywhere. On the shelves and on the small space above the rows of books and all along the floor and under chairs, books that I have read, books that I have not read.
What matters is the imaginative truth.
Ordinary life bypassed me, but I also bypassed it. It couldn't have been any other way. Conventional life and conventional people are not for me.
Love . . . is like nature, but in reverse; first it fruits, then it flowers, then it seems to wither, then it goes deep, deep down into its burrow, where no one sees it, where it is lost from sight, and ultimately people die with that secret buried inside their souls.
We hide the truer part of ourselves when we love.
I always want to be in love, always. It’s like being a tuning fork.
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Of islands I know |
Ich erkläre das grundlegende Übel der Welt damit,
dass der liebe Gott zu wenig Geld geschaffen hat.
* * *
The fundamental evil of the world arose from the fact
that the good Lord has not created money enough.
Heinrich Heine (13 December 1797 – 17 February 1856)
In autumn 1986 he gave me about an hour of his life. We talked about
Auschwitz and love, about language and absolution, about Chaplin and
apartheid, about poetry, Picasso and power, about resistance and
reconciliation, about . . .
At one point he said: Shshsh, and now let's five minutes talk without words.
Magic?
Eyes talking.
No ears needed.
Silence.
Thoughts flowing, waving.
Question and answer dancing.
Dreams.
Understanding?
Yes.
It is possible.
Magic!
May the one and the other think I am (too) sentimental:
Afterwards I felt these had been very special moments in my life. I had met a wonderful wise human being.
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| Pedro Páramo |
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| 1705. That's how far back Germany's probably oldest still-existing daily newspaper can look. And it sometimes reads like it. ;-) Nevertheless, I'm happy and grateful I was given this copy some time ago. Reading it reinforced my belief that war has probably always been the preferred method of those in power. |
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| Days are getting grey, nights frosty. and "everywhere" harvested sugar beets ... |
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| ... are waiting to be transported to the factory. |
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"What am I proud of in retrospect on that February 29, 1932? Certainly not the portraits of the so-called high society, the decadent elite in many respects. That's how I earned my living. No, I'm proud of a few paintings that hold a mirror up to my contemporaries. ... Although pride is the wrong word. Take 'Garrote vil'. Just sketching the gawkers on the balconies, who had paid a fortune for their box seats, sometimes made me want to burst with rage and tear the canvas to shreds. But then I thought that this testament to human perversity might one day make a small contribution to the abolition of the death penalty. ... I only fear that future generations will come up with even more hideous cruelties. Perhaps something more subtle. Someone will call it 'The Banality of Evil'."
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| «Garrote vil» (Ramon Casas - 1894) |
"Well, how was it, Joanita?"
Joan took the garrote from his wife, helped her out of the executioner's garb, and looked at her tenderly.
"Terrible it was. You know how perfectly I wield the garrote. But again they demanded that I prolong the spectacle."
"And? Did you make the poor fellow suffer unnecessarily longer?"
"When I hesitated, the mayor said, 'There are dozens down there who would love to do your job.' So what should I do? You, me, the children: we all want to eat."
"Poor darling. But imagine this. I've heard that the mayor is going on trial soon. And you know what the punishment for blasphemy is?"
A smile flickered across Joanita's lips. "If that's true, this execution will go down in history as the longest ever. And afterwards I shall quit."
"But ..."
"Don't worry, darling. Top prices will be offered for his fat. We'll be able to send our children to school so they once can have a better life."
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| The Fourty Days of Musa Dagh |
Franz Werfel (10 September 1890 – 26 August 1945)
"You take Ukraine and, for all I care, annex the rest of Europe, which is INCREDIBLY STUPID, into a Holy European Empire of the Russian Nation. In return, you keep BEAUTIFULLY QUIET while I LIBERATE Greenland, Canada, and the southern remainder of the American continent. DEAL!?!?!"
"Согласованный."
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| After a first glance at the garden ... |
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at roses ...
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This Friday there was the first winter sky ... ... with white magic along the road |
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| «Garrote vil» (Ramon Casas - 1894) Relats conjunts |
"Long live cruelty and decadence!"
Joan smirks as he counts once more the gold coins he's earned from renting out his balconies.
"Didn't I tell you there was no better place in this city to invest your money, darling?"
"You're a genius, Joan." Smiling, Joanita steps behind him and kisses his neck. "That's precisely why I married you."
"I knew from the start that no one would want to miss such spectacles."
"I wonder if the executioner handles the garrote any better today than he did the other day, darling?"
"I hope not! The longer the condemned person suffers, the more entertainment for the public."
"I love your pragmatism, Joan."
"And I love the sight of your breasts."
"Don't you want to attend the execution, Joan?"
"I find executions decadent. I'd rather be with you."
And with that, Joan, the philanthropist, pulls his wife onto his lap.
"I think technique can be taught
but I think the only way to learn to write is to read,
and I see writing and reading as completely related.
One almost couldn't exist without the other."
[John McGahern, who would today celebrate his 91. birthday.]
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| Sláinte, John! |
Seni düşünmek güzel şey,
ümitli şey,
dünyanın en güzel sesinden en güzel şarkıyı dinlemek gibi bir şey.
Fakat artık ümit yetmiyor bana,
ben artık şarkı dinlemek değil,
şarkı söylemek istiyorum.
[30 Eylül 1945]
*
Thinking of you is something beautiful,
something hopeful,
like hearing the most beautiful song from the most beautiful voice in the world.
But hope isn't enough for me anymore,
I don't want to hear another song,
I want to sing...
[30 September 1945]
*
An dich zu denken, ist etwas Schönes,
etwas Hoffnungsvolles,
als hörte man das schönste Lied der schönsten Stimme der Welt.
Aber die Hoffnung reicht mir nicht mehr,
ich will kein Lied mehr hören,
ich will singen...
*
Pensar en tu és quelcom bonic,
quelcom esperançador,
com escoltar la cançó més bonica de la veu més bonica del món.
Però l'esperança ja no és suficient per a mi,
no vull escoltar cap altra cançó,
vull cantar...
Nâzım Hikmet (17 January 1902 – 3 June 1963)
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| As so often happens, I spontaneously opened this new book to 'a random' page and... read this poem several times. Pages 36/37: La vaca sega / Die erblindete Kuh. |
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| Another bilingual treasure. Joan Maragall (10 October 1860 – 20 December 1911) |
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| Buch der Abwesenheiten & Die schönen Wege * Llibre d'absències & Els bells camins |
Sometimes I regret
having wasted so much time thinking,
re-thinking again and again and pondering
instead of ... writing.
Dulce Pontes * 8 April 1969
Giorgos Dalaras * 29 September 1949
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| «Costa abstracta» (Anònim, creat per Gallery Today) * Relats conjunts Arnold Schönberg once stated: "If it is art it is not for all and if it is for all it is not art." ... Well, this is ... for all. ;-) |
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| "Books? No, thanks! |
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| Just no books! |
* [For first time visitors]:
Typo in the title? Nah. It's just that
I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.
** I know a little boy who after all has started to love reading! ;-)
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| Das Schweigen des Sammlers = The Collector's Silence* * Jo confesso (2011) * Confessions |
Jaume Cabré * 30 April 1947
*Apparently, the original title was not considered conducive to sales.
The American who was the first to discover Columbus
made a terrible discovery.
Der Amerikaner, der den Kolumbus zuerst entdeckte,
machte eine böse Entdeckung. [G 183]
Georg Christoph Lichtenberg (1742 - 1799)
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| The pears have by now mutated into juice and jam. |
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| And lots of apples have already become juice and jelly. |
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| Yesterday, the picking of the last tree began. |
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| Enough for more jelly, in winter one apple a day for the humans, two or three for the birds, and now and then an apple cake. |
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