Scan barcode
jimmylorunning's review
4.0
"While they were speaking of--in their opinion--great things, around about them only little things--also in their opinion--were happening: everywhere the bushes were turning green, the brooding earth was germinating and beginning to play with her first little Spring creatures, as one might with jewels." - p10There's something strange creeping around in Adalbert Stifter's prose. On the one hand, it is very plain, open, descriptive. But perhaps it is over-descriptive, and perhaps it is overly precious, and overly tedious. But then isn't it also almost shyly self conscious of its own style? Or is that just my always suspicious way of reading books? Is it not weirdly visual also? Especially the beginning, where we are presented with a visual scene and dialogue, in which we find out who these characters are only through their speech, as if the narrator knew nothing of these folks, and were just spying on them from afar himself. And then later is it also not inconsistent what the narrator knows? Does he not know more than he at first lead on? Is there not something really plainly funny about how he phrases some things? Like the oh-so-telling 'in their opinion' above, the repetition of the phrase, the almost too symmetric balance between big and small, between the young bachelor and the old uncle bachelor? Everything is too tidy, something must be wrong, as in this overly objective detailed (almost dissected) description:
"Distracted from her work by the sound of the young man coming in, she turned her face towards him, the face of an old but beautiful woman, something so rarely seen. Its various pastel shades of colour were soft and each one of the countless little wrinkles bespoke kindliness and warmth. Around all the wrinkles were the further innumerable wrinkles of a snow-white, crimped bonnet. On each cheek there was a delicate blush of red." p18And yet, this something is so quiet. Like a strangeness just bubbling under a very low heat. It is like a slow cooked turkey, with juices sealed in. It's not giving you a clue as to its directions or intentions, but always hinting at something. Meanwhile it's whistling down the street like nothing is out of the ordinary at all. In fact, it's because it is so ordinary that you become suspicious. In a way, this type of strangeness is so much more interesting to me than the outright strangeness of many modernists/postmodernists. You can read the whole book and come out thinking it is a normal story. It's practically impossible to put your finger on what's abnormal, and yet everywhere it is riddling, creeping, conniving, and acting innocent.
"We must remark at this point what a puzzling, indescribable, mysterious and fascinating thing the future is, before it becomes our present--and when it has, how quickly it rushes by, slipping through our fingers--and then how delineated it lies there as the past, spent and insubstantial!" - p11The story is a simple one but told in such a style that requires the utmost patience. Then again, because of the above elements, I was always riveted, so no patience was required at all. It pulled me along in a mysterious ever wondering. What happens--as far as plot--is straightforward, yet confusing. I immediately wanted to read it over again, but here I heard there's another version translated by another guy in the collection [b:Limestone and Other Stories|6388394|Limestone and Other Stories|Adalbert Stifter|/assets/nocover/60x80.png|6576686], so maybe I'll wait and re-read it there, to see if the different translation will be enlightening. What follows are a few things I'm puzzled about, so spoilers will be employed.
Spoiler
It's mostly the uncle's monologue that confuses me. He says that he held Victor as a prisoner because a young man must experience a certain degree of oppression. Something along those lines. That it builds character, basically, in my own words. He criticizes V's foster mom and guardian for being soft, for protecting him and saving up little amounts of money for him. But then later he leaves him all this property and money, which seems to contradict that opinion, and says "don't go to work... many people have toiled their lives away". But isn't working 8-5 the best guarantee of experiencing oppression? Instead he says start a farm, so that all your faculties can be utilized. Here I am again using my own words. I am thinking aloud, as this whole last portion is confusing to me. He emphasizes getting married, and then briefly talks about his relationship with Victor's foster-mother (she rejected him, chose his brother instead, brother and foster mom had a relationship, but then brother married someone else out of obligation (Victor is son of said brother), and foster mom married someone else, and had Hanna.) Later Victor marries Hanna, and this part was out of the blue also, except for an earlier parting where they kissed on the lips, which seemed vaguely incestuous even though they weren't technically related. But also at the time was written in a way where it was perfectly natural, i.e. just pure love of one's brother/sister. Overall, what did Victor learn from his uncle? That if he didn't marry, he'd become lonely and bitter? Why did he say his uncle was a great man? Was it only because he could finally detect the emotion and human-ness beneath the cold exterior? Is that all that's required to become a great man? As far as I can see, he was just a man with a set of very normal complexities. Then there is the weird conclusion about offspring, about leaving a trace. Am I to take these sentiments in earnest? I have a hard time believing them, and believing that the author believed them. Or is he saying the opposite, as "everything perishes" anyway?PS - look at this lovely face:
More...