Bookshop magic

Recently I went to a bookshop to buy two books on my wish list and took a moment to browse. As one does. Suddenly my eye caught something on a low shelf in the plays & poetry corner, the black & white café photograph on the book cover in my pic above. I saw the German title, Dichter im Café (Poet/Poets in the Café) and for a split second read the author’s name as Hermann Hesse before realising it was Hermann Kesten. I had never heard of Kesten, or not that I could recall. I picked it up, turned it over and read:

Das Kaffeehaus - legendärer Treffpunkt
des literarischen Austauschs, Umschlagplatz
revolutionärer Ideen, Bühne des Lebens.

These words on the back cover could be literally translated: The coffee house - legendary meeting place for literary exchange, a hub for revolutionary ideas, the stage of life.

I brought the book to the seating nook, where the magic happened. Well, it had started when I spotted the book but continued as I sat reading the preface. I understood everything; if I didn't understand a single word the context was always clear. The second sentence read: 'Das Kaffeehaus is ein Wartesaal der Poesie' (The coffee house is the waiting room of the poetry) and as I continued I knew I had to buy this book, the only copy left in the bookshop.

My silence on the blog can be explained by a move to the heart of Linz this summer, which you may have seen on Instagram, and various assignments. The beauty of the new location is having a bookshop within a short walking distance - browsing before doing the groceries gives life new meaning. I will be back soon with a new and long overdue reading list.

images mine, the 2nd appeared on Instagram 04/08/22 | cover photo: Horst Friedrichs

№ 31 reading list: the letters of Bishop & Lowell

Adding Swann's Way to my last reading list (№ 30) was an excellent idea. I'm still reading Proust and cannot understand why I waited so long to read him. His rich prose requires slow reading and I find it best to read 8-10 pages at a time, preferably in the morning. I start my day by reading; I wake up very early with my son, who has to cross Linz and its suburbs by tram to get to school. When he leaves - most people are still asleep - I sit down with coffee, toast and books. These days I start with the poets Elizabeth Bishop and Robert Lowell, with the letters they wrote to each other, before turning to Proust and other writers. My routine ends with whatever German fiction I'm reading at the moment.

№ 31 reading list:

1  Words in Air: The Complete Correspondence Between Elizabeth Bishop

and Robert Lowell  · edited by Thomas Travisano & Saskia Hamilton

2  Upstream: Selected Essays  · Mary Oliver
3  Speak, Memory  · Vladimir Nabokov
4  Personal History  · Katharine Graham
5  Ein ganzes Leben  · Robert Seethaler [German]

I'm still reading Der Untergeher (The Loser, № 30), my third book by the Austrian writer Thomas Bernhard. He is such a witty storyteller. I want to read everything by him in German (I think most of his novels and plays have been translated into English). I have never read anything by his countryman Robert Seethaler and now it's time for Ein ganzes Leben which I bought last summer (A Whole Life, trans. by Charlotte Collins).

Cherry blossoms, Antwerp 2011

My current bedtime reading is Personal History, the memoir of the late Katharine Graham, the publisher of The Washington Post. It won the Pulitzer Prize in 1998. I started the book a long time ago but held off adding it to a reading list until now. I knew she had devoted many chapters to her family story and upbringing (it's the part of biographies that least appeals to me), so I wanted to get through them first. When her story finally took off I often found it hard to put the book down, but more on that in my next reading journal entry.

images mine, 01 and 03 appeared on Instagram 12/04/21 and 24/04/21

Books in lockdown

On Friday I walked to the post office to pick up a tome, about seven hundred pages of Iris Murdoch's letters, Living on Paper: Letters from Iris Murdoch 1934-1995. Initially, I bought it to put under the Christmas tree, a gift from me to myself, but instead, it will be my lockdown book. A book with a role.

Tomorrow Austria goes into lockdown due to a surge in COVID cases. It's safe to say that the mood is peculiar these days; I believe I’m not the only one dealing with lockdown weariness. I had been looking forward to finishing this term in early December, strolling the decorated streets of Linz, and spending time in bookshops and snug cafés. We can expect everything to reopen sometime before Christmas, meaning the city centre will be crowded, which I do not care for despite being vaccinated. One advantage of a lockdown is the ample time for pleasure reading and cosiness at home. A decent stack of books awaits me so I cannot complain.

With lots of unread books on my shelves, there will be no shortage of books in this lockdown. Recently I was in a bookshop and bought two German ones, including Medea. Stimmen by Christa Wolf (1929-2011). I have never read her work. I was in the mood for Greek mythology because during coffee breaks this autumn I have kept Mythos by Stephen Fry within reach. What a fun read, he's so witty. I have also been reading a new collection of Icelandic literary essays, Póetík í Reykavík: Erindi 14 höfunda. This publication celebrates the 10th anniversary of Reykjavik being a UNESCO City of Literature. One of the authors was so kind to send me a copy unexpectedly. These books will be on my next reading list, which I have been postponing to share on the blog.

A classic study break with veggie pasta

The entrance of Alex - Eine Buchhandlung

One bookshop I like is called Alex Buchhandlung, located at Der Linzer Hauptplatz, a large square close to the main bridge over the Danube River. It's a small bookshop with a vast selection of German books. I almost bought there a Fischer edition of Franz Kafka's diaries but thought to myself that my German might not be good enough to truly enjoy it. I decided to wait until I had read his stories The Judgement and Metamorphosis, which have been sitting on my shelves. I read an Icelandic translation of the latter ages ago but I have yet to read Kafka in German.

images mine, the 1st, 2nd and 5th appeared on Instagram 19/11/21; 15/11/21; 02/10/21

Playwright Thomas Bernhard and white Austria

If you follow me on Instagram you know that I usually don't write long captions, nor do I copy nor share them on the blog. Sometimes I use the same pics. Yesterday, however, I wrote about my experience in Austria and would like to keep these reflections on the blog. You can look at this as a peek into my next reading list, which includes the play Heldenplatz by the Austrian writer Thomas Bernhard. I will probably write about it later, in a Reading journal entry. That said, here is yesterday's caption with added links:

Thomas Bernhard (1931-1989) is an Austrian novelist and playwright that I still haven't read. For my next reading list, I bought a Suhrkamp edition of his play Heldenplatz, which he wrote on the 50th anniversary of the 'Anschluss', the annexation of Austria by Hitler's Germany [the Anschluss took place on 12 March 1938]. Anti-Semitism is the play's major theme.

Austria is my adopted country and I believe literature is one of the best ways to learn about the history and culture of a nation. By that, I'm referring to the things the history books usually leave out. Most of my time in Austria has been spent in this pandemic, which has limited my chances to be out and about; to meet people.

The Austrians I have met are all very friendly. However, what I cannot help noticing is that in magazines this country is depicted as White. Whether it's done intentionally, I cannot say. As I'm white, I have no experience of racism, but I have sat in waiting rooms and leafed through Austrian magazines, which present an idyllic view of a rich country with beautiful landscapes and white people. Lots of white people. I have searched and counted: In one magazine I found a group photo with one Asian woman and in another a small one with a black man. I wonder if the Austrians themselves even notice this.

Anyway, Bernhard's play, which some Austrians found hard to swallow, is one way for me to practise my German during the pandemic.

(Bloomsbury has published an English translation of the play Heldenplatz by Meredith Oakes.)

Adding to yesterday's reflections, I do realise that Austrians are in the majority, about 80%, but in light of history and increased immigration, I would have expected growing awareness. I have lived in several European countries and perhaps there I didn't notice this white image in magazines. Yet, I don't think so. I don't remember this kind of evident whiteness. By the way, I found an interesting article from 2018 on the website of The Irish Times, called Vienna is ranked world’s ‘most liveable city’, but for whom? (with the subtitle: For some of my immigrant friends here, the welcome has been far from warm). It focuses on the situation in Vienna and its author paints a completely different picture than a white one, of a multinational community to which the magazines I have leafed through do not seem to make an attempt to appeal.

Well, spring has sprung with sun and seventeen degrees so there is no reason to complain about the Austrian weather.

image by me, appeared on Instagram 25/03/21