Showing posts with label Nobel Prize Comitee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nobel Prize Comitee. Show all posts

Thursday, December 10, 2020

The Noble Handke, Karadžić and the Leuchter Report

Reading what I posted last year on December 10th, I thought it's worth to get re-posted.

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How cometh, tonight I remember an episode of October 10th? Anyway, I do, as well as I know one ought not to disturb my friend while he is busy with proof-reading his 1669 pages short opus magnum "Pre-Assyrian Philately in a Nutshell".

I, entering his sanctuary.

He, without looking up: You would not dare to ask for my opinion about the Nobel Comitee's decision?

– Now you ask.

– Inconsequent.

– Inconsequent?

– Quite. Consequent would have been, had they split the Prize: 430,000 Euro for Handke, and 430,000 for the great poet Radovan Karadžić.

– You are kidding, Tetrapilotomos. Don't like Peter Handke, eh?

– An overrated egomaniac.

– It's easy to criticise. Did you read anything of him, perhaps, The Goalie's Anxiety at the Penalty Kick?

- This and enough to see that, from the beginning, when Offending the Audience, he was an overrated bore. And now he's but an old fart.

- He will be able to live with that.

- Unfortunately, yes.

– May I ask if you read A Journey to the Rivers: Justice for Serbia?

– You may.

– And? Did you?

– Yes. 1996. In the Süddeutsche Zeitung. In the same year I also read "The Poet's Anxiety at the Reality"*, in which 16 journalists and authors had answered to the Handke Report, amongst them Marcel Ophuls, Dževad Karahasan, Bora Ćosić and Günter Kunert.




– Handke Report?

– Yes, Would have been the right title for what obviously is his opus magnum; showing his character in a nutshell.

– You would not mean, Handke Report analogue to a certain Leuchter Report, would you?

– Now you surprise me, Sean.

– You mean, he made his winterly journey allegedly to prove Serbian atrocities only to find out: Fake news?

– Well, fake news make presidents. Why not Nobel Prize Winners? In other words: Why should very young external advisors of the Nobel-Prize-Comitee be not as stupid as simple voters?

– Is it as simple as that?

– Well, perhaps one day they find time to read "The Little Red Chairs" and come to the conclusion that, amongst a few others, Edna O'Brien would have been the better choice.



* Die Angst des Dichters vor der Wirklichkeit, © Steidl Verlag, 1996