tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57416832024-09-05T04:07:42.684+02:00Random Evidence on Thomas BernhardUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-41758381524221887312010-08-24T01:50:00.003+02:002010-08-24T02:15:18.395+02:00

There are no families anymore, only live-in arrangements, rail and postal workers credit unions, travel associations, limited philosophy partnerships, literature societies, smoked-meat societies, turnip cooperatives' societies, burlap bag associations, legal societies, weed-killing societies, societies for the praise and adoration of God: spare parts heaped on top of each other in some giant

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-3870825517006631822009-06-25T00:25:00.003+02:002010-08-24T02:15:37.892+02:00

Everything fails in the end, everything ends in the graveyard. The young people of today are running into the arms of death at age twelve, and they’re dead at fourteen. There are solitary fighters who struggle on until eighty or ninety, then they die, too, but at least they had a longer life. Those who die early have less fun, and you can feel sorry for them. Because life also means a long life,

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-37897814173361755922009-05-23T05:20:00.002+02:002009-05-23T05:27:38.658+02:00

The perfect not only threatens us ceaselessly with our ruin, it also ruins everything that is hanging on these walls under the label masterpiece. I proceed from the assumption that there is no such thing as perfect or the whole, and each time I have made a fragment of one of the so-called perfect works of art hanging here on the walls by searching for a massive mistake in and about that work of

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-78965563932900367762008-12-24T03:02:00.013+01:002008-12-24T03:24:26.821+01:00

I must be the prisoner, unless I'm crazy, for my clothes are prison clothes, and I am wearing prison clothes, am I not? - The brain is so unfree, and the system, into which the brain is born, is so free, the system so free and my brain so unfree, that system and brain are coming to an end. - The hunchback with the water pail, the one with her braids all wild, the nuntails¹ white, the

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-17605406886476389372008-11-22T01:12:00.001+01:002008-11-22T01:13:49.711+01:00

"What is that, a publisher? I could put the question to you: What is a publisher (Verleger)? A bedside rug (Bettvorleger), there's no doubt what that is. But a publisher, without the bed, that's harder to answer. Someone who misplaces (verlegen) things, a muddled person, who misplaces things and can't find them anymore. That's the definition of a publisher, someone who misplaces things. A

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-38656973318942883412008-11-22T00:57:00.007+01:002008-11-22T01:05:36.700+01:00

"Everyone knows what eroticism is. There's no need to talk about it. Everyone has their own sense of the erotic. [..] nothing can live without eroticism, not even insects, they need it too. Only if you have a totally primitive notion of the erotic, of course, that's no good, because I'm always at pains to go beyond the primitive. [..] I need neither a sister nor a mistress. You have all these

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-29820275714559174372007-02-28T07:00:00.001+01:002009-05-23T05:30:11.174+02:00

'When I concern myself with Roithamer, with what order of magnitude am I dealing? I ask myself, clearly I am dealing with a head that is willing and compelled to go to extremes in everything he does and capable, in this reciprocity of intellectual interaction, of peak record performances, a man who takes his own development, the development of his character and of his inborn intellectual gifts to

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-56135281166835813552007-02-28T05:55:00.000+01:002007-03-02T00:34:06.325+01:00

'An Italian who owns a villa in Riva on Lake Garda and can live very comfortably on the interest from the estate his father left him has, according to a report in La Stampa, been living for the last twelve years with a mannequin. The inhabitants of Riva report that on mild evenings they have observed the Italian, who is said to have studied art history, boarding a glass-domed deluxe boat, which

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-1106529681532193682005-01-24T01:16:00.000+01:002007-02-28T06:15:02.782+01:00

'Once, I had to have the Neue Zürcher Zeitung, I wanted to read an article on Mozart’s Zaide, which had appeared in the Neue Zürcher Zeitung, and since I could get the Neue Zürcher Zeitung, as I had thought, only in Salzburg, which is eighty kilometers away from here, I drove to Salzburg, to the so called world famous festival town, with the car of a friend and with the friend and with Paul all

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-1103146253181630762004-12-15T22:29:00.000+01:002007-03-02T00:39:22.626+01:00

'If we look at a person, we are bound in a short space of time to say what a horrible, what an unbearable person. If we look at Nature, we are bound to say, what a horrible what an unbearable Nature. If we look at something artificial--it doesn't matter what the artificiality is--we are bound to say in a short space of time what an unbearable artificiality. If we are out walking, we even say

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-1099354743591368592004-11-02T01:16:00.000+01:002004-12-15T21:36:15.090+01:00

'We keep trying to uncover backgrounds but we do not get any farther, we merely complicate and disjoint what is already complicated and disjointed enough. We look for someone responsible for our fate, which, most of the time, if only we are honest, we might simply call our misfortune. We brood about what we should have done differently or better or what perhaps we should not have done, because we

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-1093061593074441412004-08-21T18:12:00.000+02:002004-12-15T21:35:44.896+01:00

'People are always talking about it being their duty to find their way to their fellow men - to their neighbour, as they are forever saying with all the baseness of false sentiment - when in fact it is purely and simply a question of finding their way to themselves.' from Concrete

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-1105485557143257882004-08-19T01:17:00.000+02:002005-01-12T00:21:11.566+01:00

'Never in my whole life have I read a more engrossing and elemental work, and at the time I had never read such a long one. It had the effect of a powerful drug, and for a time I was totally absorbed by it. For some time after my return home I refused to read another book, fearing that I might be plunged headlong into the deepest disappointment. For weeks I refused to read anything at all. The

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-1079294882896964502004-03-14T21:08:00.000+01:002004-12-15T21:34:39.276+01:00

'I can only say that for a quarter of a century I have dealt with women only. I can hardly bear men. I can't bear conversations with men. They drive me crazy. Men always talk about the same things. About their job and about women. You cannot expect anything from men. A lot of men in one place are terrible. I even prefer gossiping women. Relating to women had always been useful to me. I learnt

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-1078968934634803182004-03-13T14:35:00.000+01:002004-03-14T20:38:15.200+01:00

'To question an innkeeper's wife about a person, no matter what person, would surely mean to let that person appear in a dirty light from the outset — that I did not wish to do. I could well imagine people's gossip about the Swiss couple, what these in every way dull and dull-witted people of the neighborhood would have in readiness for the Swiss couple could only be repellent and vile. It is my

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-1078968609924706442004-03-11T02:30:00.000+01:002004-03-11T03:26:43.263+01:00

'I had been able to spend some time again in my library, moreover with The World as Will and Idea, calmed and in a pleasant frame of mind. And the last thing I expected was that, after an hour or more with The World as Will and Idea, I would suddenly feel a need for my scientific studies, and I had got up and walked out of my library and unlocked the room where I had locked up my scientific

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-1078970113523019852004-03-11T02:29:00.000+01:002006-12-17T09:46:08.038+01:00

'Of course I am trained in perception and observation in an especially thorough manner and therefore am possibly not a generally valid example. Such a gift of peception and observation is of the greatest advantage, but on the other hand also of the greatest disadvantage, and it is rarely welcome, almost invariably unwelcome. Such a person who perceives everything and who sees everything and who

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-1070034793849193772003-11-28T16:53:00.000+01:002003-11-28T16:54:19.513+01:00

'I am more at home in Vienna generally than I am in Upper Austria, which I prescribed for myself as a survival therapy sixteen years ago, though I have never been able to regard it as my home. This is no doubt because right from the beginning I isolated myself far too much in Nathal and not only did nothing to counter this isolation but actually promoted it, consciously or unconsciously, to the

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-1069980495161184262003-11-28T01:48:00.000+01:002003-11-28T01:52:17.606+01:00

'Your mistake, my sister had said, is to isolate yourself completely in our house. You don't go and visit friends any longer, though we have so many. What she said was true. But what does one mean by friends? We know a number of people, perhaps even a lot of people; there are a few whom we've known since we were children and who have not yet died or moved away for good. Every year we used to

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-1069981133560839882003-11-28T01:46:00.000+01:002003-11-28T02:48:57.546+01:00

'..there is no greater pleasure than being in contact with such extremely difficult people.' from Walking

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-1069982987507801112003-11-28T01:45:00.000+01:002006-12-17T09:47:17.149+01:00

'When you look at a white wall you will realize that it is neither white nor bare. If you are on your own for a long time and get used to being alone and are more or less trained in loneliness, then you begin to discover more and more in places which, for normal people, are (essentially) bare. On the wall you discover cracks, fine cracks, uneven patches, vermin. There is a tremendous movement on

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5741683.post-1068941738670474652003-11-16T01:15:00.000+01:002003-11-28T01:52:56.250+01:00

'Our age has witnessed the eruption of total music, anywhere between the North Pole and the South Pole you are forced to hear music, in the city or out in the country, on the high seas or in the desert, Reger said. People have been stuffed full of music every day for so long that they have long lost all feeling for music . . . People today, because they have nothing else left, suffer from a

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com