THOMAS BERNHARD ~

 

R E A D     M E

RE-READING THOMAS BERNHARD ~

Perhaps best read

after reading all of Bernhard

so far translated into English —
written in 1980, a decade
before the author's untimely passing —
Bernhard takes on all the literary prizes,
the farcical pomp and ceremony,
and of course takes all the money and runs.



Knopf 2010

THOMAS BERNHARD (PROSE) ~

R E A D      M E

Seagull Books

2018

THOMAS BERNHARD ~

B L A S T     B O O K S    2016

__________________________

Over the course of three days, June 5, 6, and 7 in

1970, simply sitting on a white bench in Hamburg

park, Thomas Bernhard delivered a powerful

monologue for Three Days (Drei Tage), filmmaker

Ferry Radax's commanding film portrait of the great

Austrian writer. Radar interwove the monologue

with a variety of metaphorically resonant visual

techniques — blacking out the screen to total

darkness, suggesting the closing of the observing

eye; cuts to scenes of cameramen, lighting and

recording equipment; extreme camera distance and

extreme close-up. Bernhard had not yet written his

autobiographical work Gathering Evidence, published

originally in five separate volumes between 1975

and 1982, and his childhood remembrances were a

revelation. This publication of Bernhard's monologue

and stills from Radax's artful film allows this unique

portrait of Bernhard to be savored in book form.

THOMAS BERNHARD ~

T H O M A S    B E R N H A R D

MY FATHER

My father suffered from the aridity of the earth,

likewise from the moldered face of summer,

he climbed the mountain and rested above the tarns.

At that time the ships used to sail westwards,

never shall I forget how my father's hand

reached out for the human soul —

He climbed the mountain to see the countryside that they

trampled to bits in seven weeks.

"I tell you," he said, "Love is indestructible —."

Then the tanks rolled over the wheat field and buried

hope for the coming year.

They all suffered from the aridity of the earth, some

fell back into the night, saying: we

cannot find any verses at all in this monstrous poem.

My father believed this earth belonged to him, since he

had bought a hundred acres and a hut with

trees; in which he slept,

but found no dream.

For hundreds of millions of years he gazed into the animals' eyes

as they flickered on Christmas Eve.

He said: "We don't need candles!"

My father brought a branch from the olive tree and carried snow

to the lips of his sisters.

In Siberia he embarked upon a voyage, yet

needed an eternity, because they were all suffering

from the aridity of the earth,

and a voice within him said: "I shall dip my light

in the human snow."

___________________________

 

T H O M A S    B E R N H A R D

translated from the German by

Peter Waugh

 
















 Three Rooms Press (2015)

 http://www.thomasbernhard.org/