Hotel Naipaula

Welcome to the hotel at Naipaula’s

“On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair

Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air

Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light

My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim

I had to stop for the night

There she stood in the doorway;

I heard the mission bell

And I was thinking to myself,

’this could be heaven or this could be hell’

Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way

There were voices down the corridor,

I thought I heard them say…

Welcome to the hotel at Naipaula’s

Such a lovely place

Such a lovely face

Plenty of room at the hotel at Naipaula’s

Any time of year, you can find it here

Her mind is tiffany-twisted, she got the Mercedes Benz

She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys, that she calls friends

How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat.

Some dance to remember, some dance to forget

So I called up the captain,

’please bring me my wine’

He said, ‘we haven’t had that spirit here since nineteen sixty nine’

And still those voices are calling from far away,

Wake you up in the middle of the night

Just to hear them say…

Welcome to the hotel at Naipaula’s

Such a lovely place

Such a lovely face

They livin’ it up at the hotel at Naipaula’s

What a nice surprise, bring your alibis

Mirrors on the ceiling,

The pink champagne on ice

And she said ‘we are all just prisoners here, of our own device’

And in the master’s chambers,

They gathered for the feast

They stab it with their steely knives,

But they just can’t kill the beast

Last thing I remember, I was

Running for the door

I had to find the passage back

To the place I was before

’Relax,’ said the night man,

We are programmed to receive.

You can checkout any time you like,

But you can never leave!”

Joseph Beuys

This is a multiple by J. Beuys called “Zwei Fräulein mit leuchtendem Brot” (Two Misses with shining bread). They travel – obviously in Paris, because the artist writes the métro-stations, first the real ones (like Télégraph, Simplon, Bac…), for their way back he uses invented ones (like Homacher, Bébé Fleuri, Miss Mesman), the two voyages are separated by chocolate.

Joyce

Befor writing “Ulysses” Joyce wrote “Dubliners”, a compound of short stories about people in Dublin. This book is much easier to read than Ulysses, but the same people appear in the latter book. Additionally the short story “The dead” is believed to be the best short story ever.

The Roman Empire, extending its frontiers more and more, could never conquer two places: Ireland in the far North-West and “Saba” (now Yemen) in the far South-East. These two contries were estimated as “Paradise”.

St. Patrick, now considered the saint of Ireland (“St.Patrick’s day”) is sent by the Catholic popes to Ireland to gain the souls of all these pagans (in reality having a much different religion, the so called “Iro-Scottish christianity” – with f.e. Columban or Kevin). Patrick claimed Ireland back to the “right belief”, a pure imperialist movement.

It is a good trick of Joyce to let a Jew describe the Christian rituals. This gives automatically a distant point of view, and irony does the rest. See the chapter “Hades”, but before and after too.

About Leopold Bloom’s character: He doesn’t run the streets like a dull person. Though he is (much?) simpler than Stephen Dedalus, he is thinking about everything, be it a tea-reclam in a shop-window or an advertisement in the newspaper. And he judges everything from different sides!

Leopold Bloom has a potato in his pocket. This potato is like an amulet/boncuk. It protects against evil, like Fatimas hand as neclace or earring.

Geography XVIII: Jonny Depp

Jonny Depp was born in the Caribbean into an old tribe of pirates. As only one he decided to learn the profession of actor. He became famous and is to be seen in much movies, for example he played with a fish in Arizona Dreams.

In contrary to his name he is very intelligent, with the exception that he finally decided not to stay in Paradis. We like to see him, as we like to see Cher, Danny de Vito, Albano and Romina Power and Suzanne Arquette.

Poppy

(Caution: This text talks about sexual matters and drugs. For readers under the age of 14 parental advise is recommended)

Poppy-flowers are called “Moon-flowers” (Mohnblumen) in German. Does it have to do with the moon? Maybe, because Selene, moon-goddess (others say Artemis or even Isis or the cow-eyed Hera are moon-godesses) (note: all women!) are connected to them. The legend is: one day when the moon went down she saw Eros and Psyche doing their job behind a bush. Selene blushed. To remember this we have red Poppies every year. There are various kinds, some are grown in Afghanistan, from them you can understand why we say “lunatic” or “moonstruck”….

Gelincik

Almanya’da “Mohnblumen”,”Ay-çicekleri” diyorlar. Neden? Dinle: Selene, antik Ay-tanrısı (Başka bilgilere göre, Artemis, İsis veya inek-gözlü Hera bile olabilir) bir akşam gök yüzünden ayrılırken, Eros ve Psyche’nin çalıların arkasında beraber olduklarını gördü. Selene’nin yüzü kızardı. Bu olayı hatırlamak için gelincik çiçekleri her yıl açarlar. Gelinciklerin bir kaç çeşidi var. Bazıları Afganistan’da yetişiyor, bundan ötürü, neden “lunatic” veya “moonstruck” (ay-çarkması, deli, çılgın) dediğimizi anlayabilirsiniz.

Mohnblume

Immer eine Zeit nach den Anemonen fangen die Mohnblumen hier an zu blühen. Schon dem Namen nach sind sie eng mit dem Mond verknüpft. Und das tatsächlich nicht umsonst: Mondgöttin Selene, die einige für Artemis, andere wiederum für Isis oder gar die kuhäugige Hera halten, näherte sich eines Tages, wie allabendlich, dem Horizont. Aber was sah sie da? Hinter einem Busch lagen Eros und Psyche und waren kongenial beschäftigt. Selene errötete tief. Zum Gedenken an dieses Ereignis blühen alljährlich die Mohnblumen. Es gibt viele Arten. Manche davon werden auch in Afghanistan angebaut. Diese machen uns anschaulich, warum es “mondsüchtig”, “lunatic” oder “moonstruck” heisst.

Georges Perec

A Void

This book was written by Giorgios P. It was translat’d into English by G. Adair and into Turkish by C. Yardımcı and in original it contains as vow’ls “a”, “i”, “o” and “u” but nothing additional, what is a big thing for a book of about 300 pag’s.

At start it’s hard, and unhappily all allusions are for occid’ntal and not for Turkish folks (which was additional work for Yardımcı). Main champion Anton Vowl (Ssliharf) (nam’ of protagonist = kind of charactr) go’s missing, but much mor’ individuals too: Augustus, Haig, Olga, Jonah and whole groups of publics ‘vaporat’. Book is lik’ an Agatha Christy “whodunnit” with a vowl missing! Com’on, catch it too!

Kayboluş

Bu kitap Giorgios P. tarafından yazıldı. Lisanımıza C.Yardımcı tarafından aktarıldı. Orijinal kitapta ünlü harf olarak salt “a”, “i” ,”ö”, “ü”, “o”, “u” bulunmakta, bundan başka bir ünlü harf kullanılmamakta. 300 sayfalık bir kitap için oldukça iddialı bir durum. Kitabın başlangıcı biraz zor ayrıca, yazık ki bütün anıştırmalar batıya özgü, Türk kültürünün dışında (bu durum C.Yardımcı için ayrıca zorluk oluşturmakta). Kitapta başkahraman

Anton Ssliharf (Romanın baş kişisi) kaybolur ama çok daha fazla kişi aynı istikbali paylaşır: Augustus, Haig, Olga, Jonah ayrıca bütün bir gurup halk büsbütün buharlaşır. Kitap sanki Agatha Christy’nin suç romanları, gibidir! Haydi, yakalayın!

(C’viri Dil’k Kutzli)

Anton Voyls Fortgang

Ich hab das Buch in Britisch studi’rt. Übrtragn hat’s für uns Öig’n Hȁmlich, für Britisch Sir Adair, Mann! Starkgeburt!

‘S ist von Schorsch P. als französisch Original gemacht. Auf 300 Seiten vill “A”, vill “O”, vill “I”, vill “U”, doch nicht 1 andr Vokal…!, und doch übrbordnd Handlung, man schnallt ab…..

Für mich wars am Anfang hart, doch man findt sich ins Buch: Anton Voyl wird g’sucht, abr gfunden wird’r nöd. Augustus, Jonah, Haig, Olga und ganz’ Gruppn krazn ab. Ist dr rȁnst’ Krimi! Komm, hol’ ihn auch!!

Mary Oliver

“I love the line of Flaubert about observing things very intensely. I think our duty as writers begins not with our own feelings, but with the powers of observing.”

Lived with Molly Malone Cook in Provincetown, Massachusetts. Of Provincetown she recalls “I too fell in love with the town, that marvelous convergence of land and water; Mediterranean light; fishermen who made their living by hard and difficult work from frighteningly small boats; and, both residents and sometime visitors, the many artists and writers.[…] M. and I decided to stay.”

How to express your inner emotions? By describing the outer nature and dressing it in metaphors! Say the ancient Greeks: and they have the Olympic goddesses and gods, the nymphs, the dryades, the centaurs and laphites and many many other faboulous beings. Says Mary Oliver to: she has the ponds, the reeds, the bushes and trees, the moss, the grass, the watersnakes, the frogs, the insects and the little birds.

Every day she took a walk. In the end of that walk she wrote. Once she couldn’t find her pencil, from then on she put pencils in trees and other hidden places not to get stuck again. Her poems are quite understandable and she is from far the best selling author of poems in the United States. How comforting to know, that the USA not only destroy other countries but have their admirers of nature too! Mary Oliver is in this case in the full tradition of Walt Whitman, Thoreau, Emerson or Emily Dickinson.

Mary Oliver and Molly Malone Cook met in the house of late poet Edna St.Vincent-Millay. They found out that they lived vis-avis from each other in New York and got aquainted. Mary says: “I took one look and fell, hook and tumble.”

I would like to have seen the house of two such artistic people! Molly Malone Cook was a devoted photographer, but she was Mary Olivers literary agent too, she had a fabulous bookshop in Brooklyn (visited among others by Norman Mailer) and she opened the first gallery for photographers at the West Coast. She was 10 years Mary’s senior and died in that house they shared in Provincetown. After that Mary was busy sorting out old photographs and made a wonderful book out of it: “Our World”.

Paul Auster, 4321

Ein wahrer Entwicklungsroman 😊, und das in modernen Zeiten – naja, die 60er und 70 Jahre sind ja für uns schon weit entfernte Vergangenheit, die Welt aber ist seitdem nicht besser geworden. Das über 800 Seiten dicke Buch schildert das Aufwachsen (“the coming of age”) des Jungen Archie Ferguson. Er wächst in einer jüdischen Familie und mit jüdischen Bekannten und Freunden auf. Der Clou des Ganzen ist aber, dass Auster sich fragt “Was wäre wenn…”, d.h., dass er uns an vier verschiedenen Biographien teilhaben lässt, wobei es sich aber stets um den gleichen Archie handelt, ein Einzelkind eines Workaholic und einer eher verträumten, imaginativen Mutter. Mal kommt Vater Stanley ums Leben, mal Mutter Rose; auch mindestens zwei der Archies kommen um. Wir trennen aber beim Lesen nicht messerscharf, denn fast derselbe Archie – was Vorlieben und politische Orientierung, was Geschmäcker und Hobbies, was Baseball und Basketball, was vor allem die Pläne für die Zukunft angeht – tritt uns entgegen. Dabei erfahren wir haufenweise Details über die jeweiligen Handlungsorte: erst Newark, bald – geliebt! – New York, bald Vororte in New Jersey, dann Princeton, Rochester, Paris, kurz London (erinnerte mich an Brinkmanns Ende), über Zeitgeschichte – die Rassenunruhen, die 68er, der Mord an Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, die Kennedys, den unseligen Vietnamkrieg als Schlüsselerlebnis, über Filme, über Weltliteratur, über Zigarettenmarken und Doktorbesuche. Auster zitiert aus Werken des Titelhelden (eine verblüffende Idee, und seitenlang ausgeführt), besonders fasziniert hat mich hier das “Scarlet Notebook”, ein Werk, dass man schreiben und lesen kann, in das man selbst hineingehen kann!

Die Archies haben verschiedene Freunde und Sweethearts, allen voran die “one and only” Amy Schneidermann, aber auch College-Lehrkräfte, Klassenkameradinnen, Cousinen oder Schwestern bester Freunde. In einigen “Leben” hat Archie – getreu dem “Was wäre, wenn”-Motto, auch männliche Geliebte und/oder Sexualpartner.

Archie will Schriftsteller werden. Sein Geburtsort Newark, die Liebe zu Paris und das Übersetzen französischer Gedichte erinnern dabei an Paul Austers eigene Biographie.

Eine Schlüsselstelle bildet die Schilderung seiner Freundschaft mit Artie Federmann (auch er ein “A.F.”). Dieser kommt nach kurzer Zeit durch ein Aneurysma ums Leben, sein Einfluss auf Archie wirkt sich aber den ganzen Roman lang aus. Über die Kumpel Noah, Bobby, Howard etc. informieren Sie sich bitte selbst.

Zu nennen ist hier aber die weit ältere Vivien Schneider (“väterliche Freundin”), die Archie in Paris beherbergt und ihn sehr fördert.

Zusammengehalten wird das Ganze mit einer humorvollen Anektdote. Archies Grossvater, aus Minsk zuwandernd, kommt auf Ellis Island mit einem andern Immigranten ins Gespräch. “Reznikoff ist kein guter Name für die USA, nimm doch einen famliärer klingenden, etwa “Rockefeller!”. Als aber ein Immigrations-Beamter ihn daraufhin nach seinem Namen fragt, kann er nur auf Yiddish stottern: “Ikh hob fargessen”. Worauf der Beamte notiert: Ichabod Ferguson.

Zum Schluss des Buches wird dieselbe Anektdote erneut erzählt. Die Schlange beisst sich in den Schwanz, und (sagt Rumpelstilzchen), wer den Namen kennt, hat Macht über den Menschen.

Was wird nun bei Auster aus der Milieutheorie? In der Jugend der verschiedenen Fergusons nicht viel, denn sie alle sind linke Studenten und Vietnamkriegsgegenr.

Alle vier aber haben die gemeinsame Geburt, dieselben Eltern, dieselbe Umgebung der frühen Kindheit, die sie prägen.

Nun will ich aber die Rezensionen anderer Leute lesen.

My notices about that book:

Paul Auster, 4321

“God was nowhere, he said to himself, but life was everywhere, and death was everywhere, and the living and the dead were joined”

Archie Ferguson

His grandfather, travelling from Russia to Ellis Island, coming to the USA, was told to take another name than the awful Jewish sounding Reznikoff, for example Rockefeller. But when he was interviewed by an immigrant officer, he had forgotten that and stammered in Yiddish “Ikh hob fargessen” (I’ve forgotten it)! and the officer dutifully wrote down: Ichhabod Ferguson.

(To know a name is to have power – over that person – see Grimms Tale “Rumpelstilzchen”)

With this legend (or joke) the thick book begins and ends (a bit like Ouroboros – the snake which bites it’s own tail). We meet 4 Archies (4, 3, 2, 1) with different lives (What could’ve been and did NOT ocur?), but all four of them are in a way the same Archie, of one the father dies, of one the mother, one of them studies in Princeton, the other at the New York University of Columbia, at least two of them die young, but Archie always wants to be a writer and is fond of movies and books (and sex)

A modern novel of education. We ought to know Rouseau’s “La nouvelle Héloise” or Goethe’s “Wilhelm Meister” from former times…882 pages, with endless details about everything.

Sweethearts and sexual partners: Hallie Doyle, Celia Federmann, Amy Schneidermann (the one and only), Mary Donohue, Evie Monroe, Andy, Aubrey, Albert…

Friends: Bobby down the Street, Noah Marx, Artie Federmann, Howard Small, Luther, Billy Best, Vivian Schneider in Paris

Own Works: Mulligan’s Travels, The Scarlet Notebook, Hank and Frank, Laurel & Hardy

Family: Mother Rose, father Stanley, Uncles Lew and Arnold, Grandmother

Emma and -father Benjy, Aunt Mildred, Rose’ sister, Don, Mildred’s second husband, Dan, Rose’s second husband, Amy (in a way), Jim (both of them Dan’s kids)

Lot’s of friends to hang out with

Locations: New York (Columbia, Brooklyn College), Princeton, Newark, Montclair and other similar suburbs, Paris, London

Movies and Literature (all the good ones mentioned 😊 , I sponteanously bought “A tale of two cities”)

Similarities to Austers life: born in Newark, long stages in Paris, wanting to be a writer, translating French poems.

Pleiades

Die Himmelsscheibe von Nebra mit Pleiaden, Bronzezeit) 

The Pleiades are nymphs too. One of them is Merope. But the other six have been dogged by Orion too. First they transformed into doves and flew away. In vain. Then Zeus put them into the sky. Soon there was Orion too, still following them. But he lost all hopes, ever to catch them.
We can see the Pleiades with naked eye. We call them Seven Sisters, in Babylon they called them Mulmul, in Anatolia Süreyya or Ülker, in the Arab countries Atr-Thureyya, in Persia Nahid, in Japonia Subaru. Former civilizations new from their appearance and decline begin and end of the rainy season, and even the Blackfoot-Indians adjusted the Buffalo-hunt after them.

Die Pleiaden

Die Pleiaden sind auch Nymphen. Eine von ihnen ist Merope. Doch auch die andern sechs wurden von Orion verfolgt. Sie verwandelten sich in Tauben und flogen davon. Aber Orion liess sich nicht so leicht von seiner Beute abbringen. Da versetzte Zeus sie an den Himmel, wo sie noch immer von Orion verfolgt werden. Dieser aber hat alle Hoffnung aufgegeben, sie jemals einzuholen.
Wir können sie noch immer am Himmel sehen und nennen sie auch das Siebengestirn. In Babylon hiessen sie Mulmul, in Anatolien Süreyya oder Ülker, in Arabien Atr-Thurayya, in Persien Nahid, in Japan Subaru. Die meisten Kulturen erkannten Beginn und Ende der Regenzeit an ihrem Auf- und Untergang am Nachthimmel, selbst die Schwarzfuss-Indianer richteten die Bisonjagd nach ihnen aus.
(Th.K., Kleine Mythen und Lopper)