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tailorcadfael-blog · 7 years ago

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Too Many Coincidences

It wasn’t the first walk of shame Cadfael had had, and undoubtedly would not be the last, but it was one that ended in more tension than usual when he finally slunk in to the shop. It was pre-opening hours, so he got the coffee machine warming up and headed upstairs to shower and let his dad know he was back. Wilhelm met him on the landing.

“Did you forget how to use your handy, boy? All night!” Wilhelm shook his own phone in Cad’s face, his eyes looking weary and a bit sunken. “All night I was trying to reach you! Nadav called me after you left, said you were upset, so I thought, surely this boy will come home and speak to his father about what he learned!”

“Dad… look, I just—”

“No answer, just voicemail. No texts. Nothing. You are not a teenager anymore!”

“Dad… please settle down.”

“And now you come back, smelling of alcohol and — I don’t know what. Where were you? Where did you sleep?” Wilhelm reached up and cupped his face in both hands, which, Cad realized now, were shaking faintly. “Why did you not call me? Just one text, that is all I ask!”

“….I’m sorry, Dad,” Cad said, and meant it. The old man’s eyes were red, the closest he’d seen him come to crying since Marlies’ funeral. Wilhelm’s mouth pulled in a straight, tense line, then he seemed to deflate a bit.

“I am afraid for you, my son.”

“Dad… I’m a grown adult. This isn’t the first time I’ve stayed out.” He paused, looking at the old man, his brow furrowing. “…What are you so afraid of? What did that— what did Nadav say to you?”

Wilhelm exhaled, letting his hands slide to Cadfael’s shoulders. He gripped them tightly, almost to a painful point.

“There are… things your mother and I should have told you. Every year that went by, we thought, maybe this is the year. Maybe he is old enough now. And every year, we couldn’t do it.” He shook his head, not even seeming to see the grown man before him, but rather, the child he remembered. “‘Let him be innocent, just one more year’, I said, every time, and she always agreed.”

“Dad, I’m not innocent.”

“You should not be burdened with what we did — what we had to do. It wasn’t fair to do that to you!”

“Dad — Dad, I need you to calm down, you’re starting to scare me, now.”

Wilhelm blinked, looked him in the eyes, and for a moment it was like he was seeing him for the first time. Then, sadness softened his expression.

“Are you hungry? Have you eaten yet?”

“No, I— no, not yet. Dad…” Cadfael reached up and settled a hand on the old man’s neck. “How about we keep the shop closed today? There was only a couple of appointments, I can call them, get them to reschedule—”

“No.” Wilhelm said, and some of his usual, grumpy tone had returned. “No, don’t speak nonsense. Anyway, I think I would prefer to keep my hands busy.” He paused, looking at him again in that weird, searching manner that sent an uneasy chill down Cadfael’s spine. “My son… you need to speak to Nadav again. Please. Listen to what he has to say. I won’t — I cannot protect you for much longer.”

“Dad…” Cadfael began to protest, but he trailed off, thinking about the thing he’d seen in the alley last night, and then what he saw even later, when Raziq was bare before him, his skin burning like a fever, the taste of him like spice and brimstone, the way his skin glinted like metal in the light — the moment he knew, whatever this man was, human, he was not. He let out a slow breath and nodded.

“Okay, Dad. I’m gonna get cleaned up, and then I’ll head over there.”

It was the most relieved he’d seen the old man look in a very long time.

It was another hour and a half before he arrived at the esoteric shop. He’d needed a few cups of coffee first, and out of a lingering sense of guilt had checked the website’s emails, made sure to schedule any new requests for later in the week. Wilhelm had practically chased him out the door by the time he’d set off, but he had showered and shaved and had clean clothes and a spare set of cotton gloves on, and was feeling, at least, a bit more human.

The bell jingled as he entered the shop, and this time he could hear the deep voice of the shopkeeper in his back room. He had someone back there, and their voices were low but judging by the tone, someone he was on relatively familiar terms with. Cad wondered, for a moment, if he should come back later, but he had a feeling he’d get an earful for it from Wilhelm, so he strode to the door of the room where Nadav had taken him yesterday and paused outside of it, clearing his throat loudly.

“Nadav? It’s me — Wilhelm’s son. I needed to— we need to talk.”

#deviantchronicles #muse: Cadfael Friedrich #muse: Wilhelm Friedrich #rp: too many coincidences

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thestrangegirl091200 · 4 years ago

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Friedrich Wilhelm Theodor Heyser, Ophelia

Lyrics from Wildflower Wildfire by Lana Del Rey

#ophelia #friedrich wilhelm theodor heyser #art #hamlet #shakespeare #lana del rey #wildflower wildfire #music #lyrics #new song #blue bannisters #lana is definitely my muse

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paperworkanddogs-moved · 2 years ago

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DATING SIM TROPES ❤ REPOST and fill in with details about your muse as if they were a character in a Dating Sim. (Inspired by Huniepop)

NAME: Friedrich Wilhelm Ludwig Alexander von Beilschmidt

PROFESSION: Representative of Germany, Business owner

WHERE THEY CAN BE FOUND: At work, hanging around Berlin parks with his dogs, in the forests

FAVORITE FOOD TYPE: Savory, cheesy

FAVORITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK: Beer and coffee

FAVORITE TRAIT (romance, passion, sexuality, talent, flirtation, sentiment, joy, etc.): patience

WHERE THEY WOULD GO ON A DATE: For a long walk in the parks

IDEAL GIFT: A good book for journaling

HOW MANY DATES UNTIL THEY GO TO BED: Depends, sometimes he’ll get in bed very quickly sometimes it takes months. He can be fairly shy and nervous

THREESOME?: Sure, they’re fun!

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taunuswolf · 4 years ago

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MEINE VORBILDER, IDOLE, HELDEN ODER MENSCHEN, DIE ICH SEHR SCHÄTZE

Natürlich ist diese Liste nicht vollständig. Sicherlich könnte ich sie um viele Persönlichkeiten erweitern. Besonders bei Künstlern, Schriftstellern, Musikern und Schauspielern kämen sicherlich noch viel mehr bewundernswerte Menschen zusammen, die mein Leben mitbegleitet haben. Bei den eher unbekannten Namen habe ich die Funktion in Klammern daneben geschrieben. Einige Namen sind Legendengestalten oder biblische Figuren, zum Beispiel Heilige (HL). Menschen, die ich zum Beispiel während meiner Zeit als Redakteur oder anderwärtig persönlich kennen gelernt habe, sind zum Beispiel auf der Tumblr-Seite fett gekennzeichnet. Unter der Rubrik (Vormärz) versteht man die frühen Akteure der Demokratiebewegung, die leider nicht zum Zug kamen und stattdessen einem autokratischen System weichen mussten, die als Pseudodemokratie bis heute anhält. Im Klartext: Deutschland verträgt keine echte Opposition.

A: Jeanne d´Arc, Hannah Arendt, Ernst Moritz Arndt, Bettine von Arnim, AC/DC, Johann Valentin Andreae (Rosenkreuzer), Alexandra (Sängerin), König Arthus, Adele, Hirsi Ali, Charles Aznavour,

B: Hugo Ball (Schriftsteller), Marianne Bachmeier (Mutter Courage), Sebastian Bach, Gottfried von Bouillon (Kreuzritter), Friedrich Barbarossa, Clemens von Brentano (Dichter), G.L. von Blücher, F.W. von Bülow (Preußische Generäle der Befreiungskriege), Hildegard von Bingen, Beatles, Carl Ludwig Börne (1848ziger), Robert Blum (1848-Rebell), Ludwig van Beethoven, Arnold Böcklin, Max Brodt, David Bowie, Thomas Bernhard, Wilhelm Busch, James Baldwin, M. A. Bakunin (Anarchist), Boetius (Philosoph), Buena vista social Club, Josef Beuys, Samuel Beckett, Sebastian Brandt (Humanist)

C: Cicero, Paul Celan, Carl von Clausewitz (Oberst Befreiungskriege), Leonard Cohen, M. Caravaggio, John Cassavetes (Regis.), Karl August von Cohausen (Archäologe), Charlotte Corday (Rebellin 1790), Robert Crumb, Eric Clapton, Lowis Corinth, Joe Cocker, N.S. Chruschtschow, Sean Connery.

D: Denis Diderot (Aufklärer), Albrecht Dürer, Bob Dylan, Carl Theodor von Dalberg (Aufklärer), Dante, Dido (Sängerin), Alexander Dubcek, Doors,

E: Max Ernst, Hl. Elisabeth, Enya, Eisbrecher (Band), Michael Ende, Umberto Ecco, Joseph von Eichendorff,

F: Gottfried Fichte, Ernst Fuchs, Friedrich der Große, Georg Forster, Caspar David Friedrich, Fleetwood Mac,

G: Theo van Gogh, Franzisko de Goya, Gottfried Grabbe, Che Guevara, Siddharta Gautama, Karoline von Günderode (Dichterin), Georges I. Gurdjief (Mystiker), Matthias Grünewald, Artemisia Gentileschi (Malerin), Gandalf, Brüder Grim, Grimmelshausen, Ralf Giordano (Journalist), Green Day (Band), Florian Geyer (Rebellenanführer), A.N. von Gneisenau (General Befreiungskriege), M.S. Gorbatschow.

H: Hagen, Hermann Hesse, Peter Handke, Hölderlin, Heinrich Heine, E.T.A. Hoffmann, Gottfried Herder, Friedrich Hecker (1848-Rebell), Händel, Villard de Honnecourt (Gotik-Baumeister), Michel Houellebecq, Homer, Herodot, Klaus Heuser (BAB), Gorge Harrison, Andreas Hofer, Johnny Hallyday (Franz. Sänger), Friedensreich Hundertwasser, Werner Herzog, Elmar Hörig (Kultmoderator), Ulrich von Hutten (Humanist), Victor Hugo, Harro Harring (Vormärz),

I: Jörg Immendorff, Henryk Ibsen, Isaias (Prophet),

J. Jesus, Johannes der Täufer, Johannes der Evangelist, Jeremia (Prophet), C.G. Jung (Psychologe), Jennies Joplin, Friedrich Ludwig Jahn (Turnvater)

K: Karl Kraus, Theodor Körner, Franz Kafka, Frida Kahlo, Gustav Klimt, Charlotte von Kalb (Muse), Lee Krasner (Künstlerin), Rainhard Karl (Bergsteiger), Peter Keuer (Grünen-Gründer), Alfred Kubin,

L: Lukas, John Lennon, David Lynch, Flake Lorenz, Andreas von Lichnowski (1848ziger), Cyprian Lelek (1848ziger), Georg C. Lichtenberg, Gotthold Ephraim Lessing, Lanzelot, M.V. Llosa (Schriftsteller), Annie Lenox, Königin Luise, Ludwig A.W. von Lützow (Befreiungskriege), M. Lafayette (Fr. Staatsmann und Aufklärer) Franz Liszt, Led Zeppelin, Hanns Lothar (Schauspieler)

M: HL. Maria, HL. Maria Magdalena, Marcus, Matthäus, Matthäus Merian, Maria Sybilla Merian, Amadeus Mozart, Bob Marley, Edward Munch, Claude Monet, Albertus Magnus (Scholastiker), Merlin, Alma Mahler-Werfel (Muse), Meister Eckard (Mystiker), Moody Blues.

N: HL. Nikolaus, Novalis, V. Nabokov (Schriftsteller), Ningen Isu (Band), Nirvana, Agrippa von Nettesheim (Alchimist), Hannah Nagel (Künstlerin),

O: Josef Maria Olbrich (Jugendstilbaumeister), Rudolf Otto (Religionswissenschaftler), Oomph (Band), Oasis, Mike Oldfield,

P: Platon, Plotin, Pythagoras (Philosophen), Jean Paul, Plinius, Parzival, Tom Petty, Daniel Powter, Procol Harum, Pink Floyd,

Q: Queen,

R: Peter Paul Rubens, Rembrandt, Josef Roth, Ramstein, Philipp Otto Runge, Ludwig Richter, Rio Reiser, Ritter Roland, Rainer Maria Rilke, Erasmus von Rotterdam, Eric Rohmer, Ulrich Roski (Sänger), Rolling Stones, R.E.M. Lou Reed, Chris Rea, Petra Roth (Ex-OB Frankfurt/M)

S: Johann III Sobieski (polnischer König), Sunzi (chinesischer Philosoph), August Schöltis (Schriftsteller), Lou von Salome (Muse), B. Smetanar, Carlos Santana, Sappho (Dichterin), Schopenhauer, Helmut Schäfer (Staatsminister im Auswärtigen Amt) Sokrates, Egon Schiele, Madame de Stael, August Strindberg, Richard Strauss, Philipp Jacob Siebenpfeiffer (Vormärz), Helmut Schmidt, Subway to Sally (Band), Karl Ludwig Sand (Vormärz)

T: B. Traven (Schriftsteller), A. P. Tschechov, Ivan Turgenjev, Ludwig Tieck (Romantiker), HL. Judas Thaddäus, Hermes Trismegistos (Philosoph), P.I. Tschaikowski, William Turner, Lars von Trier (Regisseur)

U: Peter Ustinov, Ludwig Uhland, Siegfried Unseld (Verleger),

V: Luchino Visconti, Leonardo da Vinci, Velvet Underground, Vitruv, Vercingetorix, Francois Villon (Dichter), Walter von der Vogelweide, Robert Vogelmann (Menschenrechtsaktivist)

W: Wim Wenders, Richard Wagner, Otto Wagner (Jugendstilbaumeister) Wagakki-Band, Sara Wagenknecht, Ludwig Wittgenstein (Philosoph), Georg August Wirth (Vormärz),

X: Xhol (Band)

Y: Neil Young, Yvonne (Aktivistin der Gegenöffentlichkeit)

Z: Heinrich Zille, Carl Zuckmayer, Frank Zappa,

#idole #bedeutende persönlichkleiten #Helden #vorbilder

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kurumeki · 5 years ago

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【SOLITUDE Season 7】ステージにはMORRIE唯独り。紡がれる存在と無の叙幻私、第七節。

11月23日 (土)　京都MUSE

Episode 57: ヘルダーリン塔より、誰でもないものの歌を (13:30) Episode 58: カタリノロイウタウ (18:00) https://l-tike.com/search/?lcd=75552

【SOLITUDE Season 7】 MORRIE alone on the stage. The spinning being and nothingness of the phantom-like self, season 7.

11/23 (Sat) Kyoto MUSE

Episode 57: A Song Of Nobody At Hölderlin Tower* (13:30) Episode 58: Song’s Narrartion (18:00) https://l-tike.com/search/?lcd=75552

___

* The Hölderlinturm (English: Hölderlin Tower) is a building located in Tübingen, Germany that served as the place of residence and death in the final years of poet Friedrich Hölderlin. He lived there from May 3, 1807 until his death in 1843.

Johann Christian Friedrich Hölderlin (20 March 1770 – 7 June 1843) was a German poet and philosopher. Described by Norbert von Hellingrath as "the most German of Germans", Hölderlin was a key figure of German Romanticism. Particularly due to his early association with and philosophical influence on Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel and Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph Schelling, he was also an important thinker in the development of German Idealism.

(via Wikipedia)

#morrie #solo

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theculturedmarxist · 5 years ago

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What really makes me mad when I read critical (and even some favorable) reactions to my work is the recurring characterization of me as a postmodern cultural critic – the one thing I don’t want to be. I consider myself a philosopher dealing with fundamental ontological questions, and, furthermore, a philosopher in the traditional vein of German Idealism.

Everyone who has seen Hitchcock’s Vertigo remembers the mysterious scene in the sequoia park where Madeleine walks over to a redwood cross-section of an over-thousand-year-old trunk showing its growth history by date, points to two circular lines close to the outer edge and says: “Here I was born . . . and here I died.” In a similar way, we can imagine a philosophy muse in front of a timeline of European history, pointing to two date markers close to each other and saying: “Here I was born . . . and here I died.” The first marker designates 1781, the publication date of Immanuel Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason, and the second one 1831, the year of Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel’s death.

For me, in some sense, all of philosophy happened in these fifty years: the vast development prior to it was just a preparation for the rise of the notion of the transcendental, and in the post-Hegelian development, philosophy returns in the guise of the common Judy, i.e., the vulgar nineteenth-century empiricism. For me, all four great German idealists — Kant, Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel — articulated a distance towards idealist subjectivity and gained a non-metaphysical insight into the essence of history and the alienation of our existence. They struggled with how to break out of the horizon of absolute subjectivity without regressing to pre-transcendental realism.

But which Hegel am I referring to here? Where am I speaking from? To simplify it to the utmost, the triad that defines my philosophical stance is that of Baruch Spinoza, Kant and Hegel. Spinoza is arguably the pinnacle of realist ontology: there is substantial reality out there, and we can get to know it through our reason, dispelling the veil of illusions. Kant’s transcendental turn introduces a radical gap here: we cannot ever gain access to the way things are in themselves, our reason is constricted to the domain of phenomena, and if we try to reach beyond phenomena to the totality of being, our mind gets caught in necessary antinomies and inconsistencies. What Hegel does here is to posit that there is no reality in-itself beyond phenomena, which does not mean that all that there is is the interplay of phenomena. The phenomenal world is marked by the bar of impossibility, but beyond this bar there is nothing, no other world, no positive reality, so we are not returning to pre-Kantian realism; it is just that what for Kant is the limitation of our knowledge, the impossibility to reach the thing-in-itself, is inscribed into this thing itself.

Furthermore, Hegel is NOT a critical thinker: his basic stance is that of reconciliation – not reconciliation as a long-term goal but reconciliation as a fact which confronts us with the unexpected bitter truth of the actualized Ideal. If there is a Hegelian motto, it is something like: find a truth in how things turn wrong! The message of Hegel is not “the spirit of trust” (the title of Robert Brandom’s latest book on Hegel’s Phenomenology) but rather the spirit of distrust – his premise is that every large human project turns wrong and only in this way attests to its truth. The French Revolution wanted universal freedom and climaxed in terror, Communism wanted global emancipation and gave birth to Stalinist terror… Hegel’s lesson is thus a new version of Big Brother’s famous slogan from George Orwell’s 1984 ”freedom is slavery”: when we try to enforce freedom directly, the result is slavery. So whatever Hegel is, he is decidedly not a thinker of a perfect ideal that we approach infinitely.

Heinrich Heine (who was Hegel’s student in the philosopher’s last years) propagated the story that he once told Hegel he cannot endorse Hegel’s formula “all that is actual is rational,” and that Hegel looked carefully around and told his student not too loudly: “Perhaps, I should say: all that is actual should be rational.” Even if factually true, this anecdote is philosophically a lie – if not an outright invention of Heine, it represents Hegel’s attempt to cover up from his student the painful message or truth of his thinking.

Such a Hegel is the central point of reference of my entire work.

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wernerherzogs · 6 years ago

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If you like HAD to chose one movie, maybe not your personal favourite, but one that you think every person should watch in their lifetime, what would it be and why?

okay so… first of all, i hope you Know and Had Pretty Much Expected that i’m not gonna give you a straight answer to this question (and i’m not gonna list just one movie either, and this IS going to be personal, because i can’t like. Not look at film the personal way). like if you asked this question the world’s whole population, and we’d all give you different answers (if that many movies even existed), we’d literally all be Valid, since we’d all have our Reasons to choose one work above Everything Else.

like if someone chose Der letzte Mann (Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau, 1924), i wouldn’t want to fight them, for it is one of the greatest films in all cinematic history, although Emil Jannings was a nasty Hitler supporter (and made Marlena’s Dietrich’s life hell on the set of Der Blaue Engel). if someone picked, like, idk, any Michael Haneke movie (or of any other Austrian filmmaker tbh, for they pretty much all have Brutal takes on this world), they wouldn’t be Wrong, although i also wouldn’t want to hang out with a person who’s fascinated with/focused on that kind of mindset&view of the world only. and so on, and so forth. (and i just want to add that thinking of the ways to answer your question once again made me sad about the exclusion of women from film history, as well as history in general. rip. which affects even my lists of personal favourites whether i like it or not.)

but anyway. since you asked me specifically… my Emotional Answer to this question would probably be different than an answer focusing on so-called Artistry, but i think what often manages to combine the two are movies with children protagonists. i love those, and i also love families, and most of all -- i love the simple message that we all need stories to survive, whatever those stories might be, and whatever their medium is. i don’t care if that’s basic of me. i love stories, and we can’t live without them, and i love seeing, reading, and hearing works about that.

The Fall (Tarsem Singh Dhandwar, 2006) makes me sob every time i see it, and it has both a children protagonist and a message about the Importance of Stories. same goes for Cinema Paradiso (Giuseppe Tornatore, 1988). they both also happen to be beautiful love letters to cinema, and i’m a cinephile, so that’s why they tug at my heartstrings especially hard.

(movies like Ladri di biciclette (Vittorio De Sica, 1948), La vita è bella (Roberto Benigni, 1997), Les choristes (Christophe Barratier, 2004), Topio stin omichli (Theo Angelopoulos, 1988), Bal (Semih Kaplanoğlu, 2010), and the majority of Afghan/Iranian film (since making a child the protagonist is the easiest way to fool/evade censorship in those countries) -- like pretty much all of Bahman Ghobadi’s films, or early Jafar Panahi, or Siddiq Barmak -- those movies are /all/ different levels of heartbreaking, and will make you want to protect children from all that’s bad in this world.)

(fyi, loads of the movies i’ve just mentioned have aged in ways that might be difficult to process culturally, or socially, or emotionally right now, but that doesn’t make them less important, or less worthy of seeing, imho. the point about lack of good main roles for women is relevant to the entire post, sadly).

leaving young protagonists behind, if you want to muse on why people might want to be telling some stories to /themselves/, and how important it is to remember not to lose yourself in them too much, i’d direct you towards La grande bellezza (Paolo Sorrentino, 2013), Holy Motors (Leos Carax,2012) (this one comes with a bonus theatrum mundi metaphor), and The Brothers Bloom (Rian Johnson, 2008). La grande bellezza actually shares a theme (out of its many) with (one of many of) Cinema Paradiso -- it will make you ponder on love, and whether maybe sometimes we cling too hard to certain things we’ve experienced -- or just Wanted to Experience -- instead of allowing ourselves to learn the most difficult lesson in this world: that most of us will /have/ to love many people in our lifetime, and we’ll have to let some of them go, otherwise life, /living/, can escape us.

so, like…..….this is my answer??? i think? although i guess my most broad answer (that has. little to do with your question, but i love cheating my way out of those) would be: while it’s important to watch movies purely to satisfy our need for escapism sometimes, if you’re a native English speaker, especially from America, i’m like… Begging you to check out as many foreign movies as possible as often as possible (preferably not Big Studio movies, too), and also to let them HURT you at least once in a while. because otherwise, man, you really are just… missing out. heartbreakingly so, tbh. there are just So Many beautiful movies out there. the bottom line of my answer is: always make More Effort when it comes to discovering movies, and allow the search for your Favourite One to like… never end. and personally i refuse to pick Just One, no matter what the criteria is. i have many, many, MANY loves and favourites.

mic drop.

#sorry if this was too fake deep #i just love film very much a lot #and i also don’t claim to have a sophisticated taste #so sorry if u just wanted me to namedrop one big name director after another #or if the answer disappoints you in any other way #anyway sorry for the delay once again!#and now i gotta go to sleep. yikes #anonymous #a response #also sorry if the cut doesn't show #for this is another #long post

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conniesschreibblogg · 5 years ago

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"Wenn Gefühle auf Worte treffen" Siri Hustvedt

»Wenn Gefühle auf Worte treffen« Siri Hustvedt (Rezension)

Ein Gespräch mit Elisabeth Bronfen Die amerikanische Schriftstellerin Siri Hustvedt bietet im Gespräch mit Elisabeth Bronfen in »Wenn Gefühle auf Worte treffen« einen Zugang zu ihrem Werk und ihren Gedanken. Elisabeth Bronfen zeigt sich sehr vertraut mit Siri Hustvedts Büchern. Es ist eine Freude zuzuhören. Elisabeth Bronfen ist Professorin für Anglistik und Lehrstuhlinhaberin am Englischen Seminar der Universität Zürich. Sie promovierte über den literarischen Raum und habilitierte über Darstellungen von Weiblichkeit und Tod. Seit 2007 ist die Kultur- und Literaturwissenschaftlerin und Buchautorin, Global Distinguished Professor an der New York University. Der Aufbau „Wenn Gefühle auf Worte treffen“ Das Gespräch wurde in sieben Teile mit unterschiedlichen Schwerpunkten gegliedert. Die Gliederung ist gut gewählt: AnfängeDas Abenteuer New YorkEngagement für FeminismusDer Zauber der MalereiDas magische Reich der FiktionDas verwundete SelbstFür eine Kultur der Sorgsamkeit im politischen Handeln Der Leser erkennt die Vielseitigkeit und Tiefe, die in den Werken Siri Hustvedts vorhanden sind. Ich bin versucht, es einen ganzheitlichen literarischen Anspruch zu nennen.

Anfänge "Wenn Gefühle auf Worte treffen" Siri Hustvedt wuchs in Minnesota auf. Der Großvater stammte aus Norwegen. Die Autorin erzählt über ihre Familie und ihr Leben als Selfmade Wissenschaftlerin und Autorin. Ich bin immer wieder erstaunt, auf welch großen Wissensfundus oder Literaturfundus die Autorin zurückgreifen kann. Von „Jane Eyre“ über „Tristam Shandy“, „Middlemarch“ zu »Les Fleurs du mal«. Von Simone de Beauvoir über Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, bei Edmund Husserl und den Phänomenologen verweilend zu Georg Lacan und seinen Theorien, kann Siri Hustvedt mitreden. Die Autorin liest viel und ist für alles offen, reflektiert ihren Erkenntnisfortschritt und recherchiert weiter. Es ist Wissens erweiternd, ihre Spur aufzunehmen und mit zu wandeln. Das Abenteuer New York "Wenn Gefühle auf Worte treffen" Siri Hustvedt beleuchtet in diesem Punkt ihre Faszination zu New York. Die Stadt New York hat nicht nur für Siri Hustvedt eine große Bedeutung, sondern auch für ihren Ehemann Paul Auster. Das lässt sich aus ihren Büchern lesen. Bei Paul Auster sind es u. a. die »New York Trilogie« und bei Siri Hustvedt, denke ich umgehend, an „Damals“. Die junge S. H. als literarische Anfängerin, die nach ihrem Herkunftsort Minnesota genannt wird, ist nicht mehr der gleiche Mensch, nachdem sie Jahre in New York ge- und erlebt hat.

Engagement für Feminismus "Wenn Gefühle auf Worte treffen" Die Autorin hat schon als junge Frau Simone de Beauvoir gelesen. In der Einführung zu »Eine Frau schaut auf Männer, die auf Frauen schauen« stellt sich die Autorin mit folgenden Worten vor: »Ich liebe Kunst, Geistes und Naturwissenschaften. Ich bin Schriftstellerin und Feministin.« Sie interessierte sich schon als junges Mädchen für die Rechte der Frau. Feminismus bedeutet für sie immer auch Freiheit. Und zwar die »Freiheit zu« genauso, wie die »Freiheit von«. Einige berühmten Künstlerinnen, die darunter litten, Frauen zu sein, widmet sich die Autorin immer wieder in ihren Büchern, so z. B in "Damals" Baroness Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven. Sie war eine deutsche Künstlerin des Dadaismus und das als Muse, Aktmodell, Malerin, Bildhauerin, Dichterin und Rezitatorin. Das berühmte Kunstwerk „The Fountain“ wird bis heute Marcel Duchamp zugeordnet, obwohl es Beweise gibt, dass die Baroness die Schöpferin des Werkes war. Der Zauber der Malerei "Wenn Gefühle auf Worte treffen" An dieser Stelle möchte ich auf einen ganz besonderen Raum eingehen, dessen Bezeichnung Siri Hustvedt von ihrem Vater übernommen hat: »Yonder«, der Raum zwischen Erinnerung und Phantasie, eröffnet ein tiefgehenderes Verständnis für Literatur im Zusammenhang mit dem eigenen Selbst. Vielleicht findet genau hier auch die Begegnung zwischen Kunst und Betrachter statt. Als ich »Damals« und »Eine Frau schaut auf Männer, die auf Frauen schauen« rezensierte, habe ich mich mit Siri Hustvedts Gedanken zu Kunst und Betrachter auseinandergesetzt. Kunst entsteht in diesem Raum durch den Betrachter und das Werk. Mittels eigener Vergangenheit und den erlittenen positiven wie negativen Schicksalsschlägen und der jeweiligen Befindlichkeit zum Zeitpunkt der Betrachtung. Das ist der strukturierte Raum, in dem dieses Kunsterlebnis entsteht und sich manifestiert. Gute Kunst ermuntert den Betrachter, die Struktur aufzubrechen und neu zusammenzusetzen. Vgl. Rezension "Eine Frau schaut auf Männer, die auf Frauen schauen Näheres dazu findest du im Essay »Meine Louise Bourgeois«. Hier entwirft die Autorin, wie Kunst und Betrachter interagieren. Sie schrieb auch Essays über Vermeer, Goya, Chardin oder Morandi. Der Zauber besteht für Siri Hustvedt, die Werke dieser Künstler immer wieder ergründen zu wollen und dann doch nicht ganz zu begreifen und dabei oftmals mit neuen Eindrücken überrascht zu werden. Vermeer, Goya und Louise des Bourgeois sind Künstler bei deren Werken die Autorin immer wieder etwas Neues entdeckt, und die Analyse unter anderen Gesichtspunkten erneut einordnet. Besonders beeindruckt hat mich Siri Hustvedts Essay über Pedro Almodovar und Robert Mapplethorpe, aus »Eine Frau schaut auf Männer, die auf Frauen schauen“. Mir war Robert Mapplethorpe nicht bekannt. Über die Recherche zu Mapplethorpe, entdeckte ich Patti Smith wieder. Aber nicht als Godmother of Punk, sondern als einfühlsame Poetin in »Just Kids«. Mit den Essays über Kunst gelingt es Siri Hustvedt, ihre in »Yonder« entstandene Kunst empfindsam und lebendig an den Leser weiterzureichen. Beim »Lauschen« des vorliegenden Gesprächs konnte ich viele Gedankengänge schrittweise nachvollziehen und verstehen.

Das magische Reich der Fiktion "Wenn Gefühle auf Worte treffen" Zum magischen Reich der Fiktion passt besonders gut das Essay »Warum diese Geschichte und nicht eine andere?«. Woher nimmt der Autor seine Ideen? Aus der eigenen Biografie? Oder sind wir wieder an dem Punkt Erinnerung? An dem Punkt zwischen Erinnerung und Fiktion? Besonders das Z W I S C H E N ist ein Bereich, den die Autorin immer wieder beleuchtet. Im Gegensatz zu der mittelalterlichen Vorstellung, unsere Erinnerungen werden in einem Apothekerschrank verwahrt und wir müssen sie nur einfach aus der Schublade holen, ist das Erinnern ein komplexer Vorgang, dessen Ergebnis variabel ist. Unsere Erinnerung wird mittels unserer Erfahrungen neu zusammengesetzt und damit auch bewertet. Dadurch ist Erinnerung nicht statisch, sondern dynamisch. Wenn unsere Erinnerungen dynamisch sind, was ist dann wahr? Wie wahr sind unsere Erinnerungen. Die Erinnerung von gestern ist nicht identisch mit der Erinnerung von heute. Jeder der schreibt, kennt das Gefühl, dass die Protagonisten ein eigenes Leben und einen eigenen Willen zeigen und dass die Geschichte sich ungeplant weiter entwickelt. Siri Hustvedt unterscheidet zwischen Sujet, bewusste Entscheidungen (Beispiele hiefür sind: In welches Genre die Geschichte eingeordnet wird, die Erzählperspektive, sprachliche Gestaltung und das spätere Layout) und Fabula, dem was sich in einer Geschichte ereignet. Fabula steckt im Autor, er weiß vielleicht noch nichts Genaues, aber er ahnt ihr Vorhandensein und muss sie nur greifen. Das erinnert mich an Platons Ideenlehre. Wir haben die Ideen in uns (a Apriori vor jeder Erfahrung), müssen sie erkennen und darauf zugreifen. Deswegen wissen wir intuitiv, dass die Geschichte so nicht stimmt und ändern sie, im Glauben, dass sich die Handlung verselbständigt hat, oder die Protagonisten machen, was sie wollen. Und das wissen wir, obwohl wir im Schreibprozess zeitweilig die Welt einer anderen Person betreten. Nur dann wirkt es authentisch. Das verwundete Selbst "Wenn Gefühle auf Worte treffen" In »Die zitternde Frau« verarbeitet Siri Hustvedt eigene Erfahrungen. Ausgelöst durch den Tod des Vaters, überfiel die Autorin zeitweise ein unerklärliches Zittern. Woher kommt das? Was sagen die Neurologen? Indem sich die Autorin selbst als Fallbeispiel nahm, beleuchtete sie das Symptom aus Richtung der Psychoanalyse, der Psychiatrie und den Neurowissenschaften.

»Can that Man be President?« Für eine Kultur der Sorgsamkeit im politischen Handeln "Wenn Gefühle auf Worte treffen" Siri Hustvedt bemängelt, dass niemand ihre Zeichnungen zum Beispiel in »Damals« kommentiert. Also ich finde gerade diese Zeichnung des »Mächtigsten Manns der Welt« treffend. Als Siri Hustvedt im Frankfurter Schauspiel las, bekam sie Standing Ovations, wegen ihrer politischen Haltung. Ich kann mich hier nur anschließen. Die Autorin wuchs in Zeiten, in denen die Bürgerrechtsbewegung Thema der Abendnachrichten war, auf. Sie erinnert sich an Jimmy Carter und seinen unermüdlichen Einsatz für die Bürgerrechte und ihr Entsetzen über die Wahl Ronald Reagans zum Präsidenten. Ich will jetzt gar nicht weiter spoilern, weil es sich alleine für diesen Punkt lohnt, einen Blick ins Buch zu werfen. Als Abschluss des Buches findet der Leser eine kleine Vita zu Siri Hustvedts Leben und Werk.

Fazit zu »Wenn Gefühle auf Worte treffen«

»Wenn Gefühle auf Worte treffen« zeichnet ein lebendiges Bild von Siri Hustvedt. Ein Bild, das genau das verkörpert, womit ich Siri Hustvedt verbinde. Wissen, Inspiration und Motivation. Die Autorin erkennt die Bedeutung von Wissen, dass Wissen Macht ist, nicht in dem Sinne jemanden zu beherrschen, aber in dem Sinne, dass man mit Wissen, Probleme lösen oder vermindern kann. Wissen ist das Fenster zur Weisheit. Wie schon erwähnt, war war ich April 2019 bei Siri Hustvedts Lesung im Schauspiel Frankfurt. Sie zeigte sich genau so, wie ich mir »meine Siri Hustvedt« vorstellte. Ich habe inzwischen ein paar Bücher von Siri Hustvedt und Paul Auster gelesen und rezensiert und ich kann mich der Faszination beider Autorin nicht entziehen. Ich werde bei meinen Ausführungen zu Siri Hustvedt und ihren Büchern und Essays immer wieder zu Paul Auster, Siri Hustvedts Ehemann blicken, weil ich finde, dass die Werke der beiden Autoren sich gegenseitig ergänzen. Beide profitieren voneinander, man könnte an einen Synergieeffekt denken. Ich freute mich sehr auf das Buch »Wenn Gefühle auf Worte treffen«. Ich habe mich über drei Monate mit dem Buch beschäftigt, weil es Siri Hustvedt immer wieder gelingt, mich mit einem mir neuen bzw. unbekannten Thema zu begeistern, und mich neugierig macht, dass ich mehr darüber wissen möchte. Nun, bei »Wenn Gefühle auf Worte treffen«, habe ich mich nicht nur intensiver mit der Autorin und ihren Werken auseinandergesetzt, sondern auch mit den »Lacan-Theorien«. Siri Hustvedt ist für mich Inspiration und Motivation

Kampa Salon „Wenn Gefühle auf Worte treffen“ Das Buch erschien im Züricher Kampa Verlag in der Reihe „Kampa Salon“, eine Reihe, die ich leider erst durch dieses Buch entdeckt habe. Bei der Reihe handelt es sich um interessante Gespräche, zwischen Künstlern, Schriftstellern, Menschen denen man gerne lauscht. Aus dieser Reihe habe ich mir gerade Margaret Atwood bestellt, weil ich "Der Report der Magd" lese und recherchiere und Daniel Kehlmann auf meine Leseliste gesetzt. https://kampaverlag.ch Mein herzlicher Dank geht an den Verlag für die Bereitstellung des Rezensionsexemplars. https://kampaverlag.ch Weiterführende Links und Rezensionen Siri Hustvedt die Website der Autorin Rezension „Die Illusion der Gewissheit“ von Siri Hustvedt Rezension „Damals“ von Siri Hustvedt Rezension "Eine Frau schaut auf Männer, die auf Frauen schauen" Standing Ovations für Siri Hustvedt Projektseite Siri Hustvedt und Paul Auster Charlotte Lamping auf Literaturkritik.de Binge Reader & More Kampa Verlag Lesen Sie den ganzen Artikel

#WennGefühleaufWortetreffen #Damals #DieIllussionderGewissheit #eineFrauschautaufMänner #ElisabethBronfen #GleissendeWelt #KampaVerlag #Schreibblogg #siriHustvedt

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underthewingsofthblackeagle · 7 years ago

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Chapter 6: Days of Bliss, Part 17

Sunday morning (1)

(”Tür” / “Beschlag” by fsHH)

The quiet breakfast at Sunday morning, which Frieda Kamann had prepared for the men, was harshly disturbed at half past seven by a very loud knock on the door of the manor. Fraser looked astonished at von Trebitsch, who looked back in amazement and shrugged.

"I do not expect anyone and certainly not at this time!" In the meantime the unknown, unexpected perturbator hammered with unimpeded force on the door knocker. Fraser rose and shouted: "All right! We hear you!"

Then he opened the door with a jerk. A soldier stood before him and saluted. "Good morning! Cornet Thomas von Stübig! I am commissioned by His Majesty and have a letter for His High Well-born!"

"Good morning," Fraser replied. The soldier standing before him was about twenty-five years old, about six feet high, slender and carried an energetically upward-directed blond mustache. In the first moment the temptation to laugh aloud was great for Fraser. But then he noticed that the man was wearing a uniform, which identified him as a member of the Regiment of the Gardes du Corps, a Cuirassier Regiment in the Guard Cavalry, of whom he knew it was stationed in Charlottenburg.

"Where is your horse?" The soldier pointed down the stone steps. There stood a wonderful brown stallion, whose reins were tied to the parapet. Fraser whistled loudly and only a moment later the door of the horse stable opened and Max Budde came out. "Good morning Max! Bring this officer's horse to the stable and take very good care of it." "Good morning gentlemen! As you order Bailiff Fraser!"

Normally, they did not have such a formal tone, but the stable boy thought it appropriate for the stranger was a soldier. Fraser just nodded. Then he turned to the Cuirassier and said: "Follow me! I will take you to the Baron." Paul von Trebitsch had stood up when Fraser and Cornet entered the hall.

Fraser also thought it appropriate to maintain the formal tone:

"Your High Well-born: Cornet Thomas von Stübig with a letter from His Majesty for you." The Cuirassier immediately sprang to attention and saluted. "Stand comfortably Cornet." "Yes, sir, Lieutenant-Colonel!" Fraser looked at von Trebitsch in surprise, but the Baron did not react.

"You have a letter for me?" "Yes, sir, Lieutenant-Colonel!" The Cuirassier opened the bag attached to his belt and took out a document roll, which he handed over to von Trebitsch. The Baron briefly looked at the roll, which was closed at both ends with the royal seal. Then he asked: "What is your order Cornet?"

"I should hand over this letter to you and return to Potsdam with the answer as soon as possible." "Have you been riding all night?" "No, sir, Lieutenant-Colonel! I have been resting at an inn and I rode on at dawn." "Have you already had breakfast?" "No, sir, Lieutenant-Colonel!"

"All right. My housekeeper will prepare a breakfast for you and show you a room where you can rest. I have an appointment this morning, which I cannot fail. I'm back at noon, then I'll take care of the answer. You will of course also have a meal and we will provide for your journey back to Potsdam." "Yes, sir, Lieutenant-Colonel! Thank you, sir, Lieutenant-Colonel!"

"Bailiff Fraser. Take the man to the kitchen and inform Madame Kamann, then come back."

(”Schloss Charlottenburg / Berlin” by Schreib-Engel)

A few minutes later, Fraser and von Trebitsch were sitting at the table again, finishing their breakfast, while the wooden document roll from Potsdam lay unopened next to the Baron's plate. "Lieutenant-Colonel?" Fraser asks. "Yes, in the infantry. I told you I fought in the last two wars, and you know where my sword hangs." "Sure, but how did he know your rank, which was unknown to me?"

"I am sure the King has informed him. The Cornet should make a good impression here. Why else would he send a Cuirassier from a regiment of the Gardes du Corps, if he could have sent a Hussar? They are faster but not so prestigious. No, James, the young guy who is sitting in our kitchen right now is a sign of royal appreciation. Were you aware that in the ranking list of the Prussian troops the Gardes du Corps takes the second place immediately behind the First Guard Regiment? At every reception of the King the officers of the Gardes du Corps are led before the throne immediately after the officers of the First Guard Regiment and thus means before all the nobles and ambassadors. It seems that the King wants something of us. That's good. That's always good."

"A language without words ..." Fraser mused softly. Paul von Trebitsch grinned. Then he put the last piece of bread in his mouth and rinsed it down with a large sip of tea. "Let's go into my office and look at it," he said to Fraser, who had also finished his breakfast.

Quickly, but carefully, von Trebitsch removed the royal seal at one end of the document roll. Then he unscrewed the closure and let the letter slide out of the roll into his right hand. In his life, he had opened numerous of such royal document reels, and yet it was a special feeling every time again. Fraser stood at one of the windows, his arms crossed behind his back. The Baron reached for his pipe, which he had just lit before, and sucked on it as he read the letter. Fraser turned slowly. "And?" "His Majesty wishes to visit us." "Oh." "He's coming on Thursday morning and will depart on Friday after lunch."

"This week, we've just finished the last tasks of the harvest!" The surprise and the discomfort in Fraser's voice were unmistakable. "Yes, this week. Ah we can do it! And he wants to talk to you." "To me?"

Now Fraser's voice sounded even more surprised. He reached for the letter, which von Trebitsch handed to him, and began to read. "He wants to talk to us about the results of our work, and he will bring a Major with him who wants to get to know me?!" "Major von Seydlitz, a very courageous man, in a certain sense a war hero." "You know him?" "Yes, we fought together in the Second Silesian War at Hohenfriedberg."

"What sort of a man is he?" "He comes from one of the oldest noble families in Silesia. For centuries, their men have served various ruling houses, especially as soldiers. His father, Daniel Florian von Seydlitz, was Major of the Cavalry in the 10th company of the Cuirassier Regiment Markgraf Friedrich Wilhelm von Brandenburg-Schwedt, stationed on the Lower Rhine. Friedrich Wilhelm von Seydlitz is a Free Lord and Baron like me, but his family does not have much land or wealth. Unlike me, he has a very successful military career. He is a remarkable person: A man who likes wine and tobacco, but can be disciplined when it matters. He is a man who can be very spontaneous; he surprises even those who know him again and again. On the other hand his thinking and acting shows a great measure of system and order. He is also a man who can be very self-willed, but who can put his own interests easily behind if a common aim should be archived. It can truly be said, that he is a man who is constantly working and fighting for the cause of Prussia. He had a decisive share in the victory at the Battle of Hohenfriedberg, where we fought together. He succeeded to capture the Saxon General Georg Sigismund von Schlichting personally. It is not surprising that the King promoted him to the rank of a Major by his merits at the young age of only twenty-one. By the way, he had skipped the rank of a lieutenant completely."

(Battle of Hohenfriedeberg, Attack of Prussian Infantry, June 4th, 1745 - shown "Potsdam Giants" Grenadier Guards Batallion. History Painting by Carl Röchling [1855 - 1920] via Wikimedia Commons).

"So he's an experienced mature officer?" "Hmhm. He must be about 28 years old now." "Then he's my age?!"

This seems to be a day of countless surprises for the boy, von Trebitsch thought. "Haven’t you fought in wars?"

"Mmphm. And why should I get to know him?" "After the peace of Dresden in December 1745, he was sent to Trebitz in Silesia, and as far as I know, he devotes himself to the training of Cavalry units. He is in command of Hussars, but he himself is Cuirassier. And the King has sent us this letter by a Cuirassier. Horses, James. I think it will be all about horses."

"Yes, this is obvious."

"Oh! It's just before nine, I have to leave. I'm back for lunch. What are you going to do today?" "I thought I'd make a ride." "Good. See you at lunch." Paul von Trebitsch took his black leather wrapper. Then the men went through the hall into the court. There, Max Budde waited with the saddled horse for the Baron. He mounted his horse, nodded once again and then rode away. When he had crossed the gate, Fraser asked: "Is everything prepared?"

Max Budde nodded. "Well, get my horse, I'll be right back." Fraser hurried to his room, took his jacket from the hook and put it on while on his way back to court. There Max waited with his saddled horse. "As we have discussed, I am riding out, and I am back at noon for lunch. Not one word to any one about my previously saddled horse." "You can trust me, Bailiff Fraser."

Fraser, already on horseback, turned to Max again: "Thanks Max and see you later." Then he too rode out of the gate. Fraser knew in which direction von Trebitsch would ride, and it was not long before he saw the Baron riding in some distance before him. He slowed down the speed, for he did not want to be noticed.

Paul von Trebitsch thoughts were still fully absorbed in the message of that royal letter, which was now enclosed in his desk.

"Horses. It will be about horses. But that does not seem to be everything. What does it mean that Friedrich brings the Major here?"

Fraser kept a distance that was far enough to see the Baron, but prevented von Trebitsch from hearing his horse. He had planned this venture for several days now and did not want to risk its success. For a long time, he wondered what sort of "appointments" von Trebitsch had on those Sunday mornings when he was not hindered by harvest or winter. Last Friday night he had decided to follow the Baron, should he ride away this Sunday morning. When the Baron ordered his horse to be saddled for 9 am, Fraser had not only given this order to Max Budde, but also ordered the stable boy to saddle his own horse for this time. However, Max should not bring it into the court, but wait for the Baron to ride away. While Fraser was now following the Baron towards Marschen, Max was already sitting in the kitchen with Mrs. Kamann and enjoyed the extra sandwich the Bailiff had promised him.

(”Brücke Schloss Seinhoefel / Brandeburg” by PeterDargatz)

He had followed the Baron for about forty minutes, when Fraser noticed that von Trebitsch took a road that led to the westward part of the city. He knew the area because he had been there a few times with Wilhelm Jakobi. From Jakobi he also knew that this was one of the older quarters of the city. The road led over a bridge which crossed a brook and split shortly thereafter. The road straight ahead led directly into the city. The side road to the left, on the other hand, led to a small forested hill, from which one had a good overview of this quarter of the city. Fraser saw how von Trebitsch rode directly into the city. His feeling told him, however, that it was better not to follow the Baron directly. So he directed his horse to the road that led up to the hill. He arrived at a point from which he could overlook the quarter, but where at the same time he was well hidden from the glances of others by trees and bushes. Looking downwards, he saw von Trebitsch directing his horse to a larger building maybe two hundred yards away from the brook. The building reminded him of something. But of what? It had the form of the local church buildings. But that couldn't be. The characteristic church tower was missing and a cross was nowhere to be seen.

The Baron directed his horse to the left side of the building, and Fraser noticed that there were water troughs with rings to fasten the reins to it. The Baron tied his horse beside several other horses. Then Fraser saw that even more people arrived and as Trebitsch greeted them with a warm welcome. It did not take long, and all these people, including the Baron, had disappeared behind the large dark oak door on the front of the building. Now from the centre of the city there sounded the bells of different church towers.

"Ten o'clock," Fraser thought.

Shortly thereafter, the large door was opened again, and a tall, slender man stepped out, looked around, and then went back inside.

"Look at this," he said softly, gently tapping his horse's neck. "What is Franz Sturmfels doing here?"

Fraser considered what he should do next. He was too curious to ride back to the estate now. He simply had to learn more. But riding with his horse to this mysterious building was not a solution either. The Baron would recognize his horse, and if there was a danger that he would be discovered, it would be easier for him to hide without a horse. He looked over the grounds again and then decided to choose the path along the brook, as it was lined with trees and small shrubs. He led his horse among some bushes and tied it to a tree. Then he set out. He hurried along the brook with quick steps. When he arrived near the house, he crossed the place where the horses were standing, and then, with a few steps, climbed the stairs to the entrance. Two square windows, which were inserted into the upper part of the door, allowed him a look inside. He saw a small hall which led directly to another large door. On the left side of the hall, a wooden staircase was leading to the first floor. The hall was empty; he could not see a single person. When he pushed the door button, he did not expect it to give way. But to his surprise, the door opened quietly and without resistance. Without a further thought, he slid inside and closed the door carefully behind him. Instinctively, he strode toward the staircase on the left. When suddenly the sound of many voices rose, he took the moment and hurried it up.

#jamiefraser #clairebeauchamp #outlander #outlander fanfic #prussia

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