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|Read Ebook Í Yes ô The narrator, a scientist working on antibodies and suffering from emotional and mental illness, meets a Persian woman, the companion of a Swiss engineer, at an office in rural Austria For the scientist, his endless talks with the strange Asian woman mean release from his condition, but for the Persian woman, as her own circumstances deteriorate, there is only one answer Soltanto un burlone come Bernhard poteva intitolare Sun opera cos radicalmente pervasa da nichilismo.Questo uno dei libri di Bernhard l altro Cemento cui apporrei una fascetta con stampato a lettere ben visibili Tenere lontano dalla portata di chi ha familiarit con l ala oscura della depressione Noi cerchiamo senza sosta di scoprire dei retroscena e non facciamo un solo passo avanti, soltanto complichiamo e ingarbugliamo ancor pi ci che gi complicato e ingarbugliato CerchiamoSoltanto un burlone come Bernhard poteva intitolare Sun opera cos radicalmente pervasa da nichilismo.Questo uno dei libri di Bernhard l altro Cemento cui apporrei una fascetta con stampato a lettere ben visibili Tenere lontano dalla portata di chi ha familiarit con l ala oscura della depressione Noi cerchiamo senza sosta di scoprire dei retroscena e non facciamo un solo passo avanti, soltanto complichiamo e ingarbugliamo ancor pi ci che gi complicato e ingarbugliato Cerchiamo un colpevole del nostro destino, che quasi sempre, se siamo onesti, possiamo definire unicamente come sventura Ci rompiamo la testa su cosa avremmo potuto fare diversamente o meglio e su cosa possibilmente non avremmo dovuto fare, perch ci siamo condannati, ma non porta a niente La catastrofe era inevitabile, diciamo poi, e ci concediamo un periodo, anche se breve, di quiete Poi ricominciamo da capo a porci domande e ci rodiamo e rodiamo fino a che siamo diventati di nuovo mezzi pazzi There is no comparison to Thomas Bernhard s literary genius, which spins a fragile web of thoughts and emotions, never finished, never clear, always difficult, heavy, undefined and vague, despite the eternally running, circling sentences, and in this web his characters are stuck, as much prisoners in the maze of his language as in their own plots, if they even dare to have them, somewhere underneath the anger that the author shares with the world, through his inimitable voice of ineffable truth, There is no comparison to Thomas Bernhard s literary genius, which spins a fragile web of thoughts and emotions, never finished, never clear, always difficult, heavy, undefined and vague, despite the eternally running, circling sentences, and in this web his characters are stuck, as much prisoners in the maze of his language as in their own plots, if they even dare to have them, somewhere underneath the anger that the author shares with the world, through his inimitable voice of ineffable truth, hidden behind complicated constructions of repetitive patterns, that mostly lead to destruction, or extinction, but sometimes explode in an expected, yet surprising affirmative yes Hey, everyone I finished a book I realize that this is approximately the equivalent of crying out, I got laid at a brothel, but there you have it I ve been reduced to this For the past eighteen months or so I ve been a non reader a demographic I m not generally comfortable consorting with or, at best, a half assed reader I ll read forty pages of this and set it down and then thirty pages of that and set it down My home is a ruins of literary misadventures I hate to be the philanderer w Hey, everyone I finished a book I realize that this is approximately the equivalent of crying out, I got laid at a brothel, but there you have it I ve been reduced to this For the past eighteen months or so I ve been a non reader a demographic I m not generally comfortable consorting with or, at best, a half assed reader I ll read forty pages of this and set it down and then thirty pages of that and set it down My home is a ruins of literary misadventures I hate to be the philanderer who blames his serial infidelities on his humdrum spouse for reasons of her humdrumness, but none of the books I ve trysted with have given me the metaphorical blowjob that rocked my moribund world So I ve looked elsewhere for gratification Instead of reading, I found myself doing bizarre things, like watching The Call starring Halle Berry in a fright wig as a renegade 911 operator For a while, I blogged as we all must, sooner or later but there are only so many screeds you can write about petty annoyances before you start sounding like Seinfeld s standup routine But then Speaking of screeds I decided to revisit my old buddy Tommy The Parade Rainer Bernhard he of the obsessive, misanthropic tirade fame With his despondent novella Yes, Bernhard once again satisfies my narcissism by creating a literary figure I can relate to I should actually say a literary figure I can relate to to some extent so that nobody calls the people with the straitjackets The Unnamed Narrator hereafter, UN of Yes is a thoroughly miserable and fucked in the head scientist who, in my amateur diagnosis, suffers the combined effects of obsessive thinking, social isolation, and chronic negativity, mainly directed outward as a handy excuse for his own dysfunction On the verge of a total and perhaps irreparable breakdown he visits his acquaintance Moritz, the town real estate agent, in order to spill his guts and thereby to purge his accumulated craziness Anyone who in the midst of some personal trauma or drunken state has revealed too much about himself, at great length, to another person knows how humiliating such a fit of exhibitionism can be Desperation makes fools of us UN does find some relief in vomiting up all his masticated neuroses for Moritz, but there is a far greater consequence of his visit He meets the Swiss couple, orspecifically the Persian Woman The Swiss couple actually a Swiss power plant mogul and his Persian companion has recently purchased an otherwise unsaleable land parcel from Moritz on which to build their new home The UN becomes fixated on the Persian woman, who says nothing at the meeting and appears sullen The meat of the novella concerns the unusual and ephemeral friendship if that s the right word between the Persian woman and UN They take walks mainly Sometimes in silence They both like Schumann and Schopenhauer They both hate the backwoods Austrian town that fate has delivered them to I think Yes is maybe Bernhard s bleakest work that I ve yet encountered The title itself that little affirmation is wonderfully ironic because in the context of the novella, it s anything but affirmative in the absolute sense As usual, Bernhard gives voice to pessimism a hopelessness so dire and maddened that it can t help but be humorous Bernhard s narrators may reject society at large they may feel persecuted or misunderstood they may even resort to morbid self pity at times But Bernhard, distinct from his narrators, appreciates the absurdity of these kinds of outlooks The human psyche repetitious, obsessed, self perpetuating reveals its grimly comic aspect when it s literalized into plain language And that s exactly what Bernhard s novels do they translate the dysfunctional mind into yes screeds that at once sympathize with the human condition and riff on its follies While I do not consider myself a nihilist, I nevertheless have a deeply personal response to Thomas Bernhard s novels, which leads me to believe, especially while either immersed in one of his novels or while recovering from one, that I am at heart a nihilist, at least of a stripe, and that Bernhard has the ability to reveal my hidden self to me This would be appropriate as I have long felt that one of the strongest and only indirectly addressed themes running through Bernhard s prose is the While I do not consider myself a nihilist, I nevertheless have a deeply personal response to Thomas Bernhard s novels, which leads me to believe, especially while either immersed in one of his novels or while recovering from one, that I am at heart a nihilist, at least of a stripe, and that Bernhard has the ability to reveal my hidden self to me This would be appropriate as I have long felt that one of the strongest and only indirectly addressed themes running through Bernhard s prose is the theme of possession, of obsessions that cross the line into the realm of flat out unconscious possession, and if there is anything that each of us is unconsciously possessed by it is our hidden truer,powerful selves We are possessed by ourselves and we spend a large part of our lives trying to unravel and understand the nature of this possession It is really all the adventure a person needs, and Bernhard s novels chart the ever shifting labyrinths of this adventure So perhaps the reason I have a deeply personal response to his novels is not due to his nihilism, which is reallyof a surface phenomenon relatively in his works, but rather to this deeper elucidation of the ins and outs of being subject to one s invisible inner self, of being possessed by a force within us that we either wrestle with forever, or submit to, where even submission doesn t necessarily lessen the struggle That Bernhard s prose is able to enter this inner realm of personal experience, of perpetual struggle and mystery wrestling with angels , where life not only feeds on itself but also where it is sourced which is why even with his nihilism reading him can be such a life affirming experience , is testament enough of his power and greatness