#brecht

[zitate-kiste]

“There are many ways of killing. You can stick a knife in someone’s stomach, take someone’s bread away, not cure someone’s illness, put someone in a bad apartment, work someone to death, drive someone to suicide, take someone to war, etc.. Only a few of these are prohibited in our country”

- Berthold Brecht

[titusandronicusonice]

I’m happy everyone’s enjoying the Brecht-Benjamin posting. here’s a photo of them playing chess:

And one of Benjamin’s diary entries recounting a comment Brecht had made about chess:

From ‘Conversations with Brecht’ in Aesthetics and Politics (1977)

[brechtian]

disco elysium / saint Joan of the stockyards

[victusinveritas]

“General, your tank is a powerful vehicle

It smashes down forests and crushes a hundred men.

But it has one defect:

It needs a driver.

General, your bomber is powerful.

It flies faster than a storm and carries more than an elephant.

But it has one defect:

It needs a mechanic.

General, man is very useful.

He can fly and he can kill.

But he has one defect:

He can think.”

–Bertolt Brecht, "General, Your Tank Is A Powerful Vehicle" from The Svenborg Poems (1939)

[sun-inanemptyroom]

brecht on casting

[drowningparty]

Bertolt Brecht, Life of Galileo. Ursula K LeGuin, Lavinia.

[sopalvcre]

"first comes a full stomach, then comes ethics"

[website-enjoyer]

To those born after

1 Truly, I live in dark times! A trusting word is folly. A smooth brow A sign of insensitivity. The man who laughs Has simply not yet heard The terrifying news What times are these, when A conversation about trees is almost a crime Because it entails a silence about so many misdeeds! That man calmly crossing the street Is he not beyond the reach of his friends Who are in need? It is true: I still earn a living But believe me: that is just good fortune. Nothing That I do gives me the right to eat my fill. By chance I am spared. (If my luck runs out I am lost.) They say to me: eat and drink! Be glad that you have the means! But how can I eat and drink when It is from the starving that I wrest my food and My glass of water is snatched from the thirsty? Yet I do eat and I drink. I would like to be wise In ancient books it says what it means to be wise: To hold yourself above the strife of the world and to live out That brief compass without fear And to make your way without violence To repay evil with good Not to fulfil your desires, but to forget them Such things are accounted wise. But all of this I cannot do: Truly, I live in dark times! 2 I came into the cities at a time of disorder When hunger was ascendant. I came amongst mankind at a time of uprising And I rose up with them. Thus the days passed Granted to me on this earth. I ate my meals between battles I laid myself down to sleep with the murderers I made love heedlessly And I looked upon nature with impatience. Thus the days passed Granted to me on this earth. All roads led into the mire in my time My tongue betrayed me to the butchers There was little I could do. But the powerful Would sit more securely without me, that was my hope. Thus the days passed Granted to me on this earth. Our powers were feeble. The goal Lay far in the distance It was clearly visible even if, for me Hardly attainable. Thus the days passed Granted to me on this earth. 3 You who will emerge again from the flood In which we have gone under Think When you speak of our faults Of the dark times Which you have escaped. For we went, changing countries more often than our shoes Through the wars of the classes, despairing When there was injustice only, and no indignation. And yet we know: Hatred, even of meanness Makes you ugly. Anger, even at injustice Makes your voice hoarse. Oh, we Who wanted to prepare the land for friendliness Could not ourselves be friendly. You, however, when the time comes When mankind is a helper unto mankind Think on us With forbearance.

— The Collected Poems of Bertolt Brecht, trans. David Constantine & Tom Kuhn

[betterinthedarkblog]

"Our representations of human social life are designed for river-dwellers, fruit farmers, builders of vehicles and upturners of society, whom we invite into our theatres and beg not to forget their cheerful occupations while we hand the world over to their minds and hearts, for them to change as they think fit."

- Bertolt Brecht, from "A Short Organum for the Theatre"

[tovarishfungus]

This is for all my USA haters out there. Love you xoxo

[fashionbooksmilano]

Bertolt Brecht beim Photographen

Photographien von Konrad Reßler

Herausgegeben und mit einem Essay von Michael Koetzle

Gina Kehayoff Verlag, München 1998, 100 pages, 22x28,5cm, 3-929078-59-7

euro 35,00

email if you want to buy booksinprogressmilano@yahoo.it

Bert Brecht im Atelier des "Hofphotographen" Konrad Reßler

Brecht fotografato nello studio del fotografo Konrad Reßler

06/01/24

[redstarnotebooks]

To Those Born After, Bertolt Brecht, late 1930s

I

To the cities I came in a time of disorder That was ruled by hunger. I sheltered with the people in a time of uproar And then I joined in their rebellion. That's how I passed my time that was given to me on this Earth.

I ate my dinners between the battles, I lay down to sleep among the murderers, I didn't care for much for love And for nature's beauties I had little patience. That's how I passed my time that was given to me on this Earth.

The city streets all led to foul swamps in my time, My speech betrayed me to the butchers. I could do only little But without me those that ruled could not sleep so easily: That's what I hoped. That's how I passed my time that was given to me on this Earth.

Our forces were slight and small, Our goal lay in the far distance Clearly in our sights, If for me myself beyond my reaching. That's how I passed my time that was given to me on this Earth.

II

You who will come to the surface From the flood that's overwhelmed us and drowned us all Must think, when you speak of our weakness in times of darkness That you've not had to face:

Days when we were used to changing countries More often than shoes, Through the war of the classes despairing That there was only injustice and no outrage.

Even so we realised Hatred of oppression still distorts the features, Anger at injustice still makes voices raised and ugly. Oh we, who wished to lay for the foundations for peace and friendliness, Could never be friendly ourselves.

And in the future when no longer Do human beings still treat themselves as animals, Look back on us with indulgence.

[titusandronicusonice]

Bertolt Brecht, ‘On the Suicide of the Refugee W.B.’

[brechtian]

parallels in the dispossessed by ursula k le guin and saint joan of the stockyards by bertolt brecht

[victusinveritas]

[tye-wig-music]