Los hermanos Tanner

by Robert Walser, Juan José del Solar (Translator)

De 1905 a 1913 el escritor suizo Robert Walser vive en Berlín, donde el poeta Christian Morgenstern lee Los hermanos Tanner, su primera y más celebrada novela, que recomienda al editor Bruno Cassirer: «Este hombre hablará así mientras viva y sus libros serán un extraño y fascinante espejo de la vida». Como todas las obras de Walser ésta entusiasma a críticos y escritores, pues, al igual que El ayudante y Jakob von Gunten, sus otras dos grandes novelas, retrata con excepcional intensidad el perfil errante de su autor, uno de los novelistas que más influencia ha ejercido sobre tres generaciones de escritores alemanes.

Genres: Fiction, Classics, German Literature, Novels, Literature, Literary Fiction, Germany

269 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1907

About the author

Robert Walser, a German-Swiss prose writer and novelist, enjoyed high repute among a select group of authors and critics in Berlin early in his career, only to become nearly forgotten by the time he committed himself to the Waldau mental clinic in Bern in January 1929. Since his death in 1956, however, Walser has been recognized as German Switzerland’s leading author of the first half of the twentieth century, perhaps Switzerland’s single significant modernist. In his homeland he has served as an emboldening exemplar and a national classic during the unparalleled expansion of German-Swiss literature of the last two generations.

Walser’s writing is characterized by its linguistic sophistication and animation. His work exhibits several sets of tensions or contrasts: between a classic modernist devotion to art and a ceaseless questioning of the moral legitimacy and practical utility of art; between a spirited exuberance in style and texture and recurrent reflective melancholy; between the disparate claims of nature and culture; and between democratic respect for divergence in individuals and elitist reaction to the values of the mass culture and standardization of the industrial age.

Reviews

[Vit Babenco · Rating 5 out of 5]

By its exquisite style the lacy narration of The Tanners vaguely echoes the fairytale romanticism of E. T. A. Hoffmann.
Simon – the main character of the story – is an optimistic idealist and irredeemable dreamer…

I’m a born salesman: chivalrous, fleet-footed, courteous, quick, brusque, decisive, calculating, attentive, honest – and yet not so foolishly honest as I might appear. I am capable of lowering prices when a poor devil of a student is standing before me, and of elevating them as a favor to those wealthy individuals who, as I can’t help noticing, sometimes don’t know what to do with all their money. Although I’m still young, I believe myself in possession of a certain knowledge of human nature – besides which, I love people, of every variety, so I would never employ my insight into their characters in the service of swindling – and I am equally determined never to harm your esteemed business through any exaggerated solicitousness toward certain underfinanced poor devils.

However this infantile idealism doesn’t harm Simon a bit because he lives in the ideal and dreamlike world full of quotidian wonders…

When the curtain rose, it revealed a gray empty space. But this space soon came to life, when a dancer with bare legs and arms came on stage and began dancing to a soft music. Her body was veiled in a transparent, fluttering, flowing garment which appeared to mirror the lines of the dance in the floating air. You could sense the complete innocence and gracefulness of this dance, and it wouldn’t have occurred to anyone present to find her immodest or to ascribe impure intentions to the girl’s nakedness. Her dance often resolved into a simple striding, but this too remained a dance, and at some points the dancer appeared to be borne aloft upon her own waves.

The hero sees all the things surrounded with a nacreous aura and even ugliness and misery are dreamlike…

Maidservants without posts were represented as well, down-at-the-heels copyists, and outcasts in general: the penniless, stateless, even some who had not so much as an address to their names. Here one also encountered women of easy virtue: females with oddly coiffed hair, blue faces, chubby hands and expressions simultaneously shameless and demure. All these people – especially, of course, the holy rollers, a contingent of whom was present – displayed, as a rule, shy courteous behavior. Each gazed into the faces of the others while eating; not a word was spoken, except, now and then, a quiet, polite one. This was the visible blessing of the public good and moderation. Something comical, artless, subdued and yet also liberated rested upon these squalid individuals, in their manners, which were as colorful as the wings of a summer bird.

Many sail across the sea of life anchorless, and no ports wait for them, and, like boats, they leave no trace.

[William2 · Rating 5 out of 5]

Second reading:

Disparate notes for a pleasingly disparate novel. Ecstatic prose light as air. Character-driven and virtually plot free. I don't think one can call it realism. I'll have to think more about that. Another point, it possesses very little subtext; everything is right there on the surface. And what a quirky sensibility Walser has!

It's about a young man with no ambition in life. Simon's drifts through life in an unnamed turn of the century European nation; "cantonments" are mentioned so one suspects Switzerland, where Walser lived. People walk a lot for there are no cars. Simon understands his peculiarities, but he doesn't care. Therefore, he lives an exquisitely vivid, impoverished, if self-conscious life.

"I'm going to the dogs here, I can see that perfectly well, and nonetheless I must, or so it seems to me, go on breathing beneath the sky of my homeland if I wish to live at all. Naturally I don't enjoy much respect, I'm generally seen as a wastrel, but this doesn't matter at all to me, not one bit." (p. 273)

I didn't see during my first reading how much there is about employment — and by extension power and conformity. There's a moral engagement with the psychic cost of work. And each character's work is weighed and questioned. Is this living? the narrator asks. Once when Simon is fired, he says.

"I don't care a whit about enjoying the benefits associated with receiving a fixed monthly income. While receiving it, I degenerate, becoming addlepated and lily-livered, I ossify. You may be surprised to hear me making use of such expressions, but you must admit I am speaking the complete truth. Only one person can be a man here: you! —Doesn't it ever occur to you that among your poor subordinates there might be some who feel the urge to be men themselves: effective, productive, respect-inspiring men. I can't possibly find it agreeable to stand off to one side in this world just to avoid acquiring a reputation as a malcontent and therefore a scarcely employable person. How great is the temptation here to feel afraid and how faint the appeal of extricating oneself from this miserable fear." (p. 71)

For men simply insert persons. The novel has a few dated gender gaffes, but I think they're innocuous given its 1907 publication date. (Walser was 28.) I like how the characters are mostly free of grievance; there's a zeal for living.

"Simon strode away from the dead man, casting one last glance back at the little pile of fir branches beneath which the poet now slept, then turning away from this image with a rapid twist of his supple body, he hastened further up the mountain, moving as fast as he could in the snow. And so he was having to ascend this mountain at night for a second time, but this time life and death were shooting through his entire body in feverish shudderings. In this icy, star-resplendent night he felt like crying out exultantly. The fire of life bore him tempestuously away from that gentle, pale image of death. He no longer felt any legs, just veins and tendons, and these pliantly obeyed his forward-striding will. High up on the open mountain meadow he had his first full, sublime view of the glorious night and laughed out loud, like a boy who's never seen a dead man before. What was a dead man? What else but a reminder to live. This and nothing more." (p. 157)

On page 259 there's the most extraordinary speech by Simon extolling misfortune. Ironically, my (Mahayana) Buddhist readings say the same thing: by embracing our bad vibes we learn, grow in sagacity, are not infrequently happy

"No, it's destiny—misfortune that's beautiful. It's also good, for it contains fortune, its opposite. It appears to be armed with weapons of both sorts. It has an angry crushing voice, but also a gentle mellifluous one. It awakens new life when it has destroyed old life that failed to please it. It spurs one on to live better. All beauty, if we still harbor hopes of experiencing beautiful things, is due to it. Misfortune allows us to grow tired of beautiful things and shows us new ones with its outstretched fingers. Isn't unhappy love the most emotional sort and thus the most delicate, refined and beautiful? Does not abandonment ring out in soft, flattering, soothing notes? Are these things I am saying all new." (p. 259)

There's a lot more I'm not quoting. See the works of Pema Chödrön and others for the Buddhist side.

Then Simon meets a male nurse who obviously has same-sex interest in him, but Simon manages to dissuade the young man before parting with him. But Simon is like this with everyone: his sister, brothers, an affluent woman who briefly takes him into her service. He's not bound by anyone, so uncompromising is he in his pursuit of unfettered freedom.

[Guille · Rating 5 out of 5]

Impelido por mi propia naturaleza, cosa de la que no se me puede culpar, soy incapaz de introducirme en su piel, señor Walser, o en la que quiere hacernos creer que está envuelto, en lo que parece ser su personaje Simon Tanner. Soy incapaz de seguirle en su huida, me confunden sus penas que no le apenan, sus tristezas que no le entristecen, su ingenuidad ilustrada, y aun así, arriesgándome a que me considere un mastuerzo, le digo que disfruto de su prosa y no me puedo resistir a la tentación de parafrasear sus textos tal y como he hecho al empezar este comentario, sé que me perdonará el atrevimiento.

Como también me perdonará que le diga, sé de su firme rechazo al elogio, que admiro su histrionismo, siempre muy presente en su obra y particularmente en esta en la que desde un principio se aprecia un afán de sátira.

“Kaspar, que, de pura indolencia, tampoco sabe en qué pierna pararse o con qué narices pensar, ni qué dedo llevarse a una de sus narices. Pues las narices proliferan fácilmente con este tipo de vida, y uno quisiera pasarse el día entero con sus diez dedos metidos en sus diez narices, pensando.”

Me fascina su desparpajo, su irresponsable naturalidad, su ir de un lado para otro sin aparente destino ni fin, su capacidad para mantenernos expectantes ante cualquier cosa que se disponga a contarnos, uno siempre espera de usted esa idea que nos aproxime un poquito más a la verdad, su genio y su ingenio frívolo e indolente, su inexistente pomposidad.

“El daño que la seriedad excesiva y sagrada con que se aborda una cosa puede y debe hacerle forzosamente a la cosa misma.”

Las reflexiones sugerentes y atractivas de las que, sin afán de pontificar, nos hace partícipes en sus paseos contemplativos.

“Por más refinada que sea la cultura, seguirá siendo naturaleza, pues no es más que una lenta invención, realizada a través de los tiempos por seres que siempre dependerán de la naturaleza.”

Ensalzo la simplicidad con la que pretende enfrentarse a los avatares de la vida dividiéndola en problemitas simples y fáciles de resolver, esa simplicidad que nos parece ingenua y al mismo tiempo la más cercana al núcleo, al origen, a la verdad de la que el hombre se ha ido alejando a media que iba complicando estúpidamente su existencia.

“El edificio de un banco es sin duda algo absurdo en primavera.”

Como bien sabe, de usted emana un deseo de preguntar-por y sorprenderse-de las relaciones que se establecen entre unos personajes que parecen decir todo lo que se les pasa por la cabeza, que se entregan sin reservas al primero que pasa, que andan siempre exaltados, bien inflados de una felicidad plena o bien transidos de un dolor trascendental, y a veces en ambos estados consecutivamente. Me enternece cuando expresa la caricia que siente ante la dulzura con la que su hermana demostró por usted un ligero desprecio y me deslumbra con la elegancia de su poesía.

Y sin embargo me sigue usted desconcertando, como ya le hice saber al hablarle de su novela “El ayudante” o cuando traté de hacerle llegar algunas cosas que pensaba acerca de su “Jakob von Gunten”, cuando le comenté de las intenciones ocultas que yo creí descubrir o necesité ver en unas propuestas que me produjeron la mayor de las desconfianzas, máxime cuando ya desde sus inicios confesó aquello que deseaba con mayor franqueza, la insinceridad.

Y es por ello que recelo del entusiasmo del que hace gala, ...

“Lo encontraríamos todo maravilloso si fuéramos capaces de sentirlo todo, pues no puede ser que una cosa sea maravillosa y otra no”

... que dudo de sus desprecios, ...

“El desasosiego es un estado innoble, indigno del ser humano… solo la felicidad es digna de respeto”

... que niego la sinceridad de su risa ante la definición que de usted, Simon Tanner, hace su hermana, ...

“Hay en ti cierta simpleza, cierta irresponsabilidad y, ¿cómo diría?, cierta indolencia pueril… Para la mayoría de la gente serás un personaje poco interesante, insípido para las chicas, insignificante para las mujeres, absolutamente indigno de confianza y falto de energía para los hombres… ¿Crees que alguien podría llorar por ti? Ni hablar…Por una persona como tú nadie sentiría nostalgia… ¿Ningún corazón palpitará jamás por ti!”

... que rechazo por quimérico su desdén al respeto y la consideración que en el fondo cree merecer, su inclinación a la humillación.

“Me gusta ese escarnio porque me hace temblar, y me encanta ser invadido por la rabia y la vergüenza: te impulsan hacia metas más altas”

Y por las mismas razones, sí que creo en el desasosiego que le impulsa a torcer su rumbo a cada momento, en su negativa a echar raíces en sitio alguno, en su apetencia de todo, ...

“Es bueno no tener tiempo para muchas cosas, pues, de tenerlo, uno se moriría de tanto pretender”

... en sus firmes propósitos inmediatamente olvidados, en su cuestionamiento del arte y de los artistas, en su buscada y querida independencia, ...

“Quién no tiene objetivos propios vive en función de los objetivos, intereses e intenciones de otros.”

... en su intención de vivir el ahora, ...

“No quiero un futuro, lo que quiero es un presente.”

... en su no querer rendirse, ...

“Debo seguir buscando hasta que logre convencerme de que la felicidad y el deber existen y son la misma cosa.”

... en su sentimiento de soledad.

“(Siento) nostalgia de algún reproche airado y mordaz, de algún insulto, de alguna imprecación o exclamación ofensiva, únicamente para tener la certeza de no estar del todo solo, de despertar siquiera un mínimo de interés, aunque fuera un interés grosero y negativo.”

Y no ha de extrañarme que deteste la compasión, pues a eso es a lo que me mueve sus infructuosos intentos de aparentar lo que no es, de presumir de lo que carece, su testimonio de felicidad solo porque cree que Dios odia a los tristes.

“En mí no hallará usted nada que apunte a alguna opción vital determinada. Aún sigo estando ante las puertas de la vida, y llamo y llamo, cierto es que con pocos bríos, y no hago más que aplicar el oído, ansioso, por si viniera alguien dispuesto a descorrer el cerrojo. Pero un cerrojo así es más bien pesado, y nadie querrá venir si tiene la sensación de que quien llama desde fuera es un mendigo.”

Y me reafirmo en la creencia de que todo su no-sufrimiento es totalmente insincero cuando descubro como en ese final esperanzador de su obra usted mismo se compadece de sí mismo al regalarle a su Simon Tanner alguien dispuesto a descorrer ese pesado cerrojo.

[Maziyar Yf · Rating 3 out of 5]

جنگ را به خاطر بسپار
قربانیانش را به خاطر بسپار


بچه های تانر کتابی است از رابرت والزر ، نویسنده سوئیسی ، این کتاب همچنین نخستین رمان از سه‌گانه معروف او (که شامل دستیار و یاکوب فون گونتن هم می‌شود) است.
شخصیت اصلی داستان ، فردی است به نام سیمون . او فردی احساساتی و خیال‌پرست است که به معنای واقعی کلمه دم را غنیمتی دان ، زندگی می‌کند. در دنیایی پر از تلاش و تقلا برای پول درآوردن، سیمون به دنبال آینده‌ای پایدار نیست و معتقد است هرگونه تلاشی برای ساختن آینده‌ای حتی برای چند روز، دون شأن و خلاف باورهای عجیبش در مورد زندگی است. او خود را به دست تقدیر سپرده و می کوشد که مبادا گرفتار و پایبند چیزی یا کسی شود .
او شغل‌های بی‌اهمیت مختلفی را تجربه می‌کند و مدام آنها را بدون اینکه خطایی مرتکب شود، ترک می‌کند. سیمون ساکن جایی هم نیست و دائما شهر یا روستای خود را هم عوض می کند . والزر به روابط سیمون با خواهر و برادرانش (کلاوس، کاسپار، هدویگ و امیل) هم پرداخته. هر کدام از این شخصیت‌ها نماینده‌ای از جنبه‌های مختلف زندگی و نگرش به آن هستند. برای نمونه کاسپار زندگی‌ای آمیخته به هنر را انتخاب کرده‌، در حالی که کلاوس و هدویگ شغل‌های معمولی دارند .
کتاب والزر داستان خاصی ندارد ، داستان های کتاب به صورت تصادفی و بی‌ارتباط با هم پیش می‌روند. سیمون معمولا با فردی همگام و هم سخن شده و در مونولوگ هایی طولانی ، افکار خود را بیان می کند ، اما سیمون توجه ندارد که آیا افکار او برای شنونده کلامش مهم هست یا نه ؟ این گونه به نظر می رسد که حرف زدن به خودی خود هدف است، نه فقط وسیله‌ای برای ارتباط یا پیش برد روایت .
فلسفه زندگی سیمون تانر :
افزون بر سبک زندگی دمی را غنیمت دان و پایبند به فرد یا ساکن محل مشخصی نبودن ، سیمون جهان پرهیاهوی مردمان را جهان خود نمی‌داند. او از حل شدن در چرخه سیستم و تبدیل شدن به پیچ و مهره آن ناتوان است. سیمون با پر حرفی های فراوان و مونولوگ‌های طولانی ، تلاش می کند تا فلسفه خود را بیان کند ، نوعی سرکشی در برابر انتظارات جامعه و زندگی مدرن . او به دنبال آزادی مطلق و زندگی بدون قید و شرط است، حتی اگر این آزادی به قیمت تنهایی، فقر و عدم ثبات تمام شود. پرحرفی‌های اوهم ، نشان دهنده این روحیه و راهی برای بیان باورهای اوست .

در پایان، بچه‌های تانر فلسفه‌ای را طرح می‌کند که اساس آن ، آزادی مطلق فردی، رهایی از قید و بندهای اجتماعی، و بیان وجود از طریق بیان و زبان است، حتی اگر به قیمت تنهایی و عدم تطابق با هنجارهای جامعه تمام شود. کتاب والزر را باید به نوعی بازتابی از کشمکش انسان مدرن با انتظارات اجتماعی و میل به زندگی اصیل و مستقل دانست.

[Hakan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tanner Kardeşler tam bir özgür ruh, bir aylak adam güzellemesi. Romanda düzene uyum sağlamak ihtiyacı hissetmeyen, geleceğe değil, yaşanan ana sahip olmayı isteyen, kariyer yapmak umurunda olmayan, doğaya tutkun, bir o kadar da insancıl olan 20 yaşlarındaki Simon Tanner'in hayata bakışını anlatan düşünceleri ile konuşmaları önemli bir yer kaplıyor. Farklı şekillerde "tutunamayan" kardeşlerleriyle ilişkileri de zarif bir şekilde işlenmiş. Olay örgüsü için okunan kitaplardan değil ama - bu yönüyle Proust'u da hatırlatıyor - sonu çok hoşuma gitti. Kalite edebiyatın zevkine varmanızın yanı sıra hayatı daha iyi anlamanızı, anlamlandırmanızı sağlayan kitaplardan.

[Gorkem · Rating 5 out of 5]

Walser Büyüsü

Robert Walser, Antel Szerb'in Yolcu ve Ayışığı'nı bitirdikten sonra benzer temalara bakışı olan yazarları araştırdığımda karşıma çıktı. Walser'in okuru hipnoz edici anlatımı, kitap boyunca bizleri kendisine hayran bırakacak bir deneyime ve müthiş bir edebiyat keyfine davet ediyor.

İçerik: Tanner Ailesi

1907 yılında yazılan Tanner Kardeşler Walser'in yarı otobiyografik ilk romanı. Kitap 4 erkek ve 1 kızdan oluşan kardeşlerden Simon'ın İsviçre çevresinde birçok işe girip çıkması üzerinden ilerliyor. Simon, genç, ukala, amaçsız, aşırı sıkılgan, toplumsal değerlere saygı duymayan, kendisine aşırı güvenen arayış içinde olan bir karakter. Bu aşırılığı ciddi anlamda sinir bozucu olmasına rağmen, Walser'in zekası Simon'ı son derece eğlendirici bir hale getiriyor.

Sonuç:

Tanner Kardeşler, 111 yıl önce yazılmasına rağmen Simon karakteri ile hala günümüzde kendi güncelliğini koruyan toplum eleştirisini muazzam yapan bir kitap. Robert Walser'ın zekası ve oluşturduğu kahramanların dünyası okura ciddi anlamda farklı bir edebiyat deneyimi sunup, okurun algısını değiştiriyor.

İyi okumalar

10/8

[Bilal Y. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Robert Walser okumalarına devam. Son büyük keşfim Walser. Belki onun kahramanlarıyla aynı havayı teneffüs etmemdir onun eserlerindeki büyü. İnancım şu ki, Walser yirminci yüzyılın başında bir sonraki yüzyıl için eserler yaratmış... Elimde değil, onun eserlerinin büyüsüne kapılmaya devam edeceğim. Çünkü hayatla, kendimle ve diğer insanlarla ilgili yeniden düşünmemi sağlıyor. Simon Tanner romanın sonundaki otobiyografi tadındaki o upuzun paragrafta "Bana gelince ben tüm insanların en işe yaramazıyım." diyor. Bu benim de yoğun yaşadığım bir hissiyattır nitekim...

[Sandra · Rating 4 out of 5]

Un uomo speciale deve essere stato Robert Walser. Adesso, dopo aver letto anche un saggio di Pietro Citati contenuto ne La malattia dell’infinito che lo riguarda e ne parla entusiasticamente, sono presa dalla curiosità e dalla voglia di saperne di più di lui. Un uomo lieve, candido, infantile. Come Simon Tanner, il protagonista del romanzo.
“Io –dice Simon- non sono niente altro se non uno che ascolta e attende, come tale però perfetto perché ho imparato a sognare mentre attendo. Le due cose si tengono per mano, e ciò fa bene, e si resta decenti”. Per chi cerca nella lettura l’azione è sconsigliato leggere Walser. Nel libro ci sono liriche descrizioni della natura, i bei paesaggi svizzeri da cartolina; non c’è una trama ampia, in pratica accade poco o nulla, ci sono lunghi monologhi di Simon, un giovane viandante felice che appartiene al mondo, la sua felicità è semplice e consiste nel camminare lungo le strade, nelle campagne, immerso nella bellezza della natura, e nelle città, tra la gente che le affolla. Così egli ascolta, non solo le parole delle persone che incontra; Simon ascolta le voci della vita, i silenzi della neve che cade, il vento che fruscia tra i rami, l’erba bagnata dalla rugiada che si piega sotto i suoi passi. Simon ascolta con orecchie, occhi e cuore l’infinita felicità che muove la superficie del mondo ed il dolore che si nasconde sotto il suo velo, accogliendo entrambi con gioia infantile. Simon attende, sempre con il sorriso sulle labbra, che la vita gli apra la porta e lo faccia entrare, intanto lui sta ai margini, da un lato, senza farsi notare, ma non per questo sordo o muto a quanto accade intorno a lui, anzi generoso e pieno di gratitudine verso gli altri. La sua attesa è riempita dall’eterno cammino per valli, boschi e campi inondati di sole o coperti di pioggia e neve, e mentre cammina la comunione del suo spirito con l’universo che lo circonda lo rende ricco, pur non possedendo nulla se non una valigia, “tutta la casa che abito in questo mondo”.
Mi rendo conto che le mie parole sono insufficienti a descrivere la ricchezza di sfaccettature che il personaggio, alter ego dello scrittore, ha: il quadro che emerge è quello di un fannullone vagabondo, una specie di figlio dei fiori ante litteram, che rimanda alla figura dell’ inetto, che la letteratura novecentesca ci ha fatto conoscere. Simon Tanner a prima vista rientra nella categoria degli inetti, accanto a Zeno Cosini o a Ulrich di Musil; in realtà se ne differenzia perché le sue inquietudini interiori vengono stemperate grazie alla leggerezza e alla dolcezza del sentimento di infinito che lo pervade quando attraversa i boschi ed aspira a fondo l’ossigeno delle foreste alpine o quando cammina nelle strade delle cittadine svizzere guardando la gente negli occhi, tuffandosi nel caos della vita cittadina a cuore aperto, con amorevole dedizione verso gli uomini.
Nel corso della lettura riflettevo su quanto sia lontano anni luce dal nostro modo di vivere quello di Simon Tanner, lui che ha una parola buona per tutti, che guarda negli occhi le persone che incontra in strada come per carpirne le gioie e le sofferenze nascoste, che ha sempre il sorriso sulle labbra, quando noi camminiamo per le strade a testa bassa, guardiamo senza vedere chi ci cammina a fianco, ci scontriamo con barboni rannicchiati negli angoli delle piazze senza accorgerci che sono morti. E’ proprio colpa della foga della vita moderna che impone ritmi accelerati, come siamo soliti accusare, in tal modo liberandoci dalle nostre colpe individuali?

[M. Sarki · Rating 5 out of 5]

http://msarki.tumblr.com/post/1316241...

As I disgustingly bubbled up my thrill to my son and wife while driving along the coast of eastern Florida, eighty degrees and sunshine, the ocean beckoning and the beach a friendly almost-vacant place ahead at Sebastian Inlet for our dog to run, my trills bursting with the gleaning of my new favorite literary one named Simon who offers so much and is yet unencumbered by any long-term sense of responsibility, his future in the moment always, and his pleasure engulfed in the world of nature, his earth mother, the one he feels the closest to, and my son asks, “Is he better than Seymour?” Of course I could not answer him in a direct way as in a yes or no, but instead chose to express to him that the Glass family as a whole is better than the Tanners, but taken individually Simon is better than even Zooey or Buddy or Franny, or their mom, and how can anyone exactly say anything regarding Seymour as we basically know him only through A Perfect Day For Bananafish and whatever Buddy or Zooey or Franny chooses to say about him? I certainly love to death the Glasses, but the Tanners are a remarkable family as well. Robert Walser’s clever use of Simon as both the youngest and the one to forge our way through this three hundred and fifty page book of simple delights that verge on the edges of our greatest philosophy. But the book is not without its customary pain, as anyone knows must equally accompany our given joy along the way.

What was immediately striking to me in The Tanners by Robert Walser was the way in which the author spoke directly to me as if he and I were close old friends and he was revealing to me everything we already both knew about life and art and pain and love, and our mutual devotion to finding out our personal truths. Even the critical side of brother Kaspar and others from time to time rang true as we all have bad days and seem to rise some mornings from the wrong side of the bed. The result being the Tanners all laughing about their personal inadequacies and bitter faults, and this is why it was refreshing and invigorating to me. I laughed to myself when the serious painter-brother Kaspar arose from bed one day to decide after years of devoted vocation to his art that he would almost just because give up his love of painting to become a farmer.

I loved the triangle love affair brothers Kaspar and Simon had for the already-married Klara. How sweet and innocent it seemed and fortunate for Klara to be loved so intensely by a connected pair of suitors. The shotgun blasts projected by the much-traveled and disconnected hunter-husband of Klara also were timely in portending the wrong in general deemed by society and certain therefore to damn their love relationship.

I loved the many jobs Simon took in order to make a living and his trying on of these different employments for size, performing all his tasks and obligatory responsibilities to perfection and then up and quitting abruptly without warning, and then relating long and winded reasons why he wasn’t suited for the job he did so well. These instances were really something and resulted in myself wishing again and again I had the courage this Simon had for walking away in the spirit of freedom and another chance to smell the roses blooming outside a typical life of nine to five. I remember forty years ago when my 12th grade English teacher told me I needed to work as others did in order to afford the freedom money gave to those of us willing to keep our noses pressed to the ground. I followed her advice and have never been convinced after all these years that her advice was correct or what I needed. I have continually envied artists such as Bob Dylan and Cormac McCarthy who never worked a regular job in their lives and followed their impulses for living a life of the artist. Of course, I was never one who could take from others, or live off their generosity. I had to “earn” my way, which is, and was, a segment of the blue-collar culture I have carried since childhood and learned from my Finnish heritage.

The many walks Simon takes throughout the book are all scrumptiously well-written. Walser makes your body feel, but also the reader must bring his/her own life experiences and point of view to the page in order to get the most of what he is expressing. It helps to be a like-minded soul as well for I doubt many hard-working industrious money-makers could relate to Simon’s relative acceptance and relief for being out of steady employment so often and much of the time. But through this beloved Simon character Walser makes me believe in what I myself am doing with the time remaining of my life. It is a bit regular and bowel-like that I write with the consistency I do. Rarely a day goes by when I am not expressing myself with pen, and eager to do so. I feel I have something to say that is worthy of the eyes that happen onto my page. I know today that there are other like-minded individuals throughout the world we live in and there is ample proof allowed by the books they read. It is no wonder that brutally fierce State regimes like to burn books. There is so much power in the word.

Robert Walser is almost dreamlike in his detailing of time in the forest or on the many long walks his Simon takes pleasure in. It is almost as if we are walking with him as he describes the different scenes and who and what he meets throughout his adventure. My own cabin in northern Michigan is surrounded on all sides by the Huron National Forest. What makes this forest different from many others is the combination sugar sand, red and white oak, and several species of conifer, specifically strands of northern, white pine, and jack. The soft and comfortable forest floor is covered often by a sea of elegant ferns and when not carpeted by these beautiful plants there is a soft composting bed of a dry, ten thousand years of plant and bark of the all-fall dead. The forest consists of almost a million acres. The smell is incredible with its mix of pine and sand and rotting wood. The air moves freely through the wide expanse of majestic trunks and elegant limbs like standing hoards of sentinels guarding the rolling land. And my cabin sits in the middle of this all. Our small community nestled within the forest and surrounded by seven inland lakes that add another scent to the scientific formula. When resting comfortably in my outside chair, or supine in my lounge, these smells waft through and I am more than satisfied.

Hedwig, Simon’s sister, has her own set of problems as she considers her happiness as a school teacher, the respect given her though she feels oppressed by the daily grind of it all, the number of students she has to deal with, and the route that life has taken her. Her nighttime of regret punishes her so severely that Hedwig decides to leave it all instead for a life in the city as a governess, teaching and taking care of two young children, following her mistress’s orders, and in a letter she composes for employment with this family pleading that she deserves the job and that there is no one better than she to perform the duties expected by her hiring. But by morning Hedwig is feeling better. She has slept and feels equipped to handle her days again with the number of children in her tutelage. She is also prepared to find a husband and to marry, becoming his for a lifetime of rearing children, raising crops, and keeping a household together. It could be construed that Hedwig is as troubled as her brother Simon is, but the fact is, she isn’t. Fact is, Simon isn’t either. It is the judgmental uncourageous public who casts their looks down upon the wayward man who is in search of more life within his living. Almost the entire book deals with his not working a regular job, and if he is working, then what takes place behind these doors and why it is important to seek a life outside, under the sky, away from the masses, and without shame for not measuring up to others expectations.

Robert Walser was not a big, strapping man. He wasn’t a smooth operator who could charm the ladies. There wasn’t any threat deemed imminent by his behavior as if he was after something or attempting to get untoward, and for example, make his way into a woman’s hidden place beneath her underwear as other men most likely are wont to do. And because of this non-threatening character of Walser’s it is easy in my opinion to read him. Easier than say an Ernest Hemingway or a more contemporary Jim Harrison for lack of better examples. Robert Walser is a gentle soul and most obviously lacking any agenda or having something to prove. That is not to say that I am not of like-mind as Walser and that I also have a desire more for the company of women than men, but my appearance could prove skeptical to a stranger who might think otherwise of me as I am quite a large man, a strapping and powerfully-built man, and I certainly have want and attitude for hurting others who threaten me and other men like our gentle Walser. Just last night in a fit of boredom I asked our server in an outdoor drinking establishment as to where one might find a good place to engage in an old-fashioned fist fight. The server immediately went from a step away and erect to a more receptive posture for leaning in and smiling, an acceptance now on her face for a man she just might find more to her liking. Her new opening-up to my violent love was not wasted on either my adult son to my right nor my wife sitting across the table next to her sister and brother-in-law. Of course I was only kidding her, but never did I relax my disposition to suggest other than a sincere and almost crazy need for being involved this very evening in some kind of crazy fight.

But Walser too stands up to any and all persons unfairly passing judgment on himself or others. He speaks in long monologues and argues the good and bad points of certain behavior and stereotypical ideas society has proffered on the masses. I love these types of intelligent tirades though at times this character Simon goes off the deep end to become what he admits is a bit silly for the simple reason he feels better afterward and can finally go to sleep. I know how he feels. I do the same thing sometimes. I am no more serious about what I am in a tirade about than when Jesus went fishing. It just feels good to let off some steam and to be absurd. But not everybody appreciates this type of behavior and it can provide for some unpleasant experiences all around. The Tanners all have their own personal struggles and it is interesting to be intimately let in on them. One example being when Simon’s sister Hedwig throws him out of her house after his spending three joyous winter months freeloading there, and in his unique point of view, finds his dismissal to have a good side: She said to me that all she felt for me was a faint, insuppressible contempt, but she said that so sweetly I couldn’t help but feel it as a caress.

For the naysayers in our midst, the esteemed readers of so much other fiction to be themselves thought of in the highest esteem here because of their thoughtful and intelligent reviews but nonetheless regular discounters of the writings of Robert Walser based on previous books they read such as Selected Stories and Jakob von Gunten, please note that these two books were translated by a man person by the name of Middleton and in no way should the other works by Walser that others of us love such as The Assistant, The Robber, and The Tanners be tarnished because, truth be told, these beloved three gems all were translated by an enormously talented lady by the name of Susan Bernofsky. She is the brightest star in the galaxy of German translations. Enough cannot be said in regards to the talent of Susan Bernofsky. She makes everyone better, reader or writer, male or female, and never disappoints.

[SCARABOOKS · Rating 4 out of 5]

Si dice a volte che si fa fatica a leggere un romanzo. Stavolta è andata in un’altra maniera: è il romanzo che ha fatto fatica con lo scarabookkiante. A convincerlo. E una sacca di resistenza è rimasta lì, relegata in un angolo della testa; sconfitta, inerte, ma è rimasta fino a metà libro. A tratti affiorava l’incredulità, la noia, la stupida domanda che ci si fa davanti ai matti e al candore disarmato: “ma ci fa o ci è per davvero?”. E Walser è veramente al confine tra le due cose.

Il fatto è che lo scarabookkiante crede negli ingredienti di cui è fatto Simon Tanner e di cui era fatto Robert Walser. Crede nella bontà indifesa che sembra sciocca, nella generosità, nella fiducia nelle cose e negli altri, in una versione adulta, cioè consapevole e disincantata, del candore. Crede nel potere salutare della capacità ingenua di stupirsi di tutto e prima di tutto della fortuna miracolosa di essere, di esserci e di essere circondati dal mondo così com’è con le sue bellezze e le sue brutture. La parola che forse ricorre di più in questo romanzo è “meraviglioso”. “Mi meraviglio di tutto”, potrebbe essere una buona epigrafe.

Ma chi crede in queste cose deve stare sempre all'erta. Perchè in giro è più facile incontrare, anziché la bontà, l’ideologia propagandistica della bontà ed il buonismo da make-up. Pochi i buoni e tanti i militanti dei buoni sentimenti pelosi (a cui resta sempre attaccato qualcosa) e di quelli da esibizionismo televisivo. Tanti i professionisti delle buone maniere, della gentilezza usata come packaging per incartare cattivi sentimenti e ambizioni nascoste. Strumenti per avere e per farsi rispecchiare negli occhi degli altri una immagine perfetta di se; mentre di se e in se si pensa il peggio. Da qui l' iniziale diffidenza, l’incredulità, a tratti la noia. Poi, è venuto da pensare che siamo abituati forse troppo alla letteratura che racconta della gente che soffre (senza e soprattutto con l’apostrofo), del Male, dell’inquietudine, della manipolazione, dell’insano narcisismo con al centro il moloch della Morte. Qui tutto questo non c’è e la cosa disorienta.

Simon Tanner da un certo punto in poi però ti convince. Non c’è trucco in Walser.
Te ne accorgi perchè leggerlo trasmette un che di pacificante, una specie di gioia sottile. Quando ti arrendi all'idea che lui è proprio così comincia persino a essere divertente. Perchè il suo candore è anche ironia, impertinenza. Mi ha fatto pensare ad un francescanesimo laico e disincantato, senza il Cristianesimo e senza un Dio che, lo dice, per lui è superfluo: gli basta la bellezza dell’umano e dell’Essere, per amare la vita. Ha una componente ribelle, il piacere di stare fuori dal coro e dagli schemi pagando quel che c’è da pagare. Ha volontà solida, carattere vero. Non usa invece l’altro piatto della bilancia con cui i buonisti pesano le cose, le persone e le scelte della vita e cioè il successo, il prestigio, la sicurezza o anche solo la remunerazione di rispecchiarsi nell’ammirazione degli altri. Ha il dono di portare felicità (mentre gli altri li riconosci perché hanno l’infelicità quotidiana addosso, contagiosa e immedicabile). In lui non c’è la codardia che fa fingere di andar d’accordo con tutti: è capace di accettare il conflitto a viso aperto. E questo fa si che non nutre segrete rabbie destinate a manifestarsi all’occorrenza attraverso silenziosi e feroci tradimenti. Tanner è capace quando occorre di dire quello che pensa, girare i tacchi e andarsene via, portandosi i suoi errori sulle spalle come il più prezioso dei bagagli.
Non un poveraccio, insomma, ma un buono vero, di carattere, vertical, come dicono gli spagnoli, con una sua visione forte del mondo.

Poi c’è la leggerezza delle parole, dello stile con Walser racconta Tanner e lo fa parlare. E’ uno stile che sembra un cuscinetto d’aria su cui il lettore naviga sul libro come su un aliscafo. La lettura scorre comoda, leggera e veloce. Bisogna rinforzare l’attrito dell’attenzione e fermarsi per riflettere e afferrare. Altrimenti sfuggono dettagli e sollecitazioni e sembra tutto banale, scontato, mentre non lo è per niente. Forse questa è l’unica trappola vera nascosta in questo libro, che poi è una candida assenza di trucchi, appunto.

[Cláudia Azevedo · Rating 3 out of 5]

3,5*
Simon, um dia irmãos Tanner, é um jovem inadaptado, desenquadrado, insatisfeito, inconstante, que ambiciona viver um presente que lhe faça sentido, não se preocupando com o dia de amanhã ou com o que os outros pensam. Não consegue manter um emprego. Prefere fazer o que lhe dá na real gana. Compara aldeias e cidades, conhece todo o tipo de gente, é um homem que sabe dizer não e que não se importa de perder.
Esta foi a minha estreia com Robert Walser. Foi uma boa experiência, com muitos apelos à reflexão e ao questionamento.

[Jimmy · Rating 5 out of 5]

The book starts out with a job interview, which made me fear that this would be like The Assistant: Part 2, another book about holding a job. The familiar elements were there: the long-winded flowery speeches, the expressions of extreme emotion, the humorous toying with tone. I loved that book, mind you, but with a different book I wanted a different experience.

Luckily, things moved quickly on and so did Simon, the main character, who can't keep a job or a residence for longer than a few weeks, and wanders aimlessly throughout the book, but in a most delicious manner. The prose, too, wanders aimlessly, never settling down on a singular purpose, but searching, revelling, perhaps dilly-dallying, sometimes singing a tune in its little head, or bursting out in a most unwarranted way then shrinking back slightly. I found this to be Walser's most personal and touching novel so far, with earnest passages that pondered a number of different topics: art, women, misfortune, ambition, poverty, city life, etc.

How reprehensible it is when those blessed with commodities insist on ignoring the poor. Better to torment them, force them into indentured servitude, inflict compulsion and blows—this at least produces a connection, fury and a pounding heart, and these too constitute a form of relationship. But to cower in elegant homes behind golden garden gates, fearful lest the breath of warm humankind touch you, unable to indulge in extravagances for fear they might be glimpsed by the embittered oppressed, to oppress and yet lack the courage to show yourself as an oppressor, even to fear the ones you are oppressing, feeling ill at ease in your own wealth and begrudging others their ease, to resort to disagreeable weapons that require neither true audacity nor manly courage, to have money, but only money, without splendor: That’s what things look like in our cities at present (p. 172)

Throughout the book Simon returns in mind and/or body repeatedly to his siblings: Klaus, Kaspar, Hedwig, and Emil(? I forget if this is his name, since he is mentioned only once). The particular dynamic of the Tanner family is sketched out through these episodes where you get to know each one personally, and you see how these interrelations affect them, how each plays a strict role despite him/herself, and how Simon loves each one differently. The mix of emotions is captured perfectly.

Despite the humor and the lightness of Walser's voice, it is impressive how he can be simultaneously sad also, but his sadness is one that's rarely spoken out loud, and is less a solid emotion than a wistfulness you might catch in the eyes of a stranger departing on a long journey. It's a quietness that moves below the wildlife of his prose. And every once in a while it rises to the surface with surprising candor:

For her children, our mother had, when she was still healthy, something almost majestic about her that frightened and intimidated us; when she became ill in her mind, we pitied her. It was a crazy leap to make: from fearful, mystical awe to pity. All that lay between—tenderness and trust—remained unknown to us. And so it happened that our pity was strongly intermingled with an unspeakable regret over all we'd never felt, which then caused us to pity her all the more deeply.

The novel feels messy, unfinished in parts, but in the best of ways, like a well loved pair of trousers, colorful patches over all its holes. Some sections seem to be left out entirely, and you're left imagining what happened between the last episode and this one, where surely Simon (being slightly bipolar, perhaps) was feeling reticent, perhaps a little down, but you're just happy he's talking again now, and you want him to keep talking.

Sebald's introduction to this volume is well worth the read also. I love thinking about Sebald reading Walser, these two complete outsiders in very different ways, connecting over the ellipsis of literature.

[Stephen P(who no longer can participate due to illness) · Rating 5 out of 5]

A 350 page paperback book which should be bulkier in weight but the pages purposively made small makes it surprisingly light. Despite no sense of any formal plot I read for long stretches, growing tired, the book becoming heavier. Its weight alternated and at times defied external prodding's.

Simon Tanner flits what appears as lightly through his life. At times his manic enjoyment of nature is breathtaking. It seemed to me there was an element of desperation in this lightness. His flight was something away from not towards anything graspable. Looked at it was his, Walser's, rush from the shadows of melancholia and whatever ills of the spirit that waited in the wings. Walser never says this outright. His method is one of absence. The inner struggle-the story in this novel that has no beginning or end-is evoked in what is not said or shown. The fearful shadowed part of his being is carved out by his distinctive reveries, conscious attempts at acceptable appearance in others eyes, the slippage of manic rhetoric, his refusals to participate and succeed in life. What is left is the heart of the novel, its bleeding guts. This for me was not lightness but the lightness was the grim heaviness of Simon's life. The simplicity of the writing was the art of evocation. It made something which was not there spellbinding.

The confines wrought out of the desperation to manage such a life left him with an unobstructed view of others, the manners and strivings of society around him, the herald of success if one's being and spirit were sacrificed to obey its rules. It appeared absurd, pathetic, possibly silly but not comedic. How was he to participate and why? This left him with no commonality. Isolated, he had no community yet there were isolated moments where others saw a quest for connection in his eyes and a desire on their part to know him. Any further details about these relevant situations will be spoilers and I am trying hard to invite rather than preclude anyone form reading this unique and near flawless book. I can splash all over the page what is known of Walser's life and make what sounds like smooth equations to the characters and situations inhabiting the book. I might even sound smart-to myself-but this would be an affront to Walser and, The Tanners.

When I think of spiritual quests I tend towards thoughts of conventional organized religious practices. This book has further confirmed for me that the reading of fine literature is well placed in this list. The Tanners, along with being a vast literary experience was also spiritual in its reading and afterwards. Ineffable and enigmatic there was something pure, woven from silken thread so fine as not to be seen, always graspable there in front of me yet as I opened my hand it was gone.

[Jasmine · Rating 5 out of 5]

“Es ist etwas Wunderbares, der frühen Jugend entronnen zu sein; denn sie ist nicht das gar nur Schöne, Liebliche und Leichte, sondern oft schwerer und gedankenvoller als manches alten Mannes Leben. Je mehr man gelebt hat, desto sanfter lebt man.“ (p. 328)

Dieses Buch des Schweizer Schriftstellers Robert Walser hat mich auf so vielen Ebenen tief berührt. Literarisch, menschlich, persönlich.

Die Sprache ist melodiös, ironisch und von einer Leichtigkeit, die den oberflächlichen und unerfahrenen Leser dazu verleiten könnte, das Buch als „leichte Lektüre“ voller Monologe und ohne Plot zu disqualifizieren. Die sorgfältige Leserin spürt aber schnell die ganze Tragik, die unter der Oberfläche lauert. Simon Tanner, die Hauptfigur des Romans, kämpft auf seine ganz eigene Art gegen Konventionen an; sei es im Beruf, im Umgang mit Freunden, Familie, Frauen. Seine Offenheit und Unerschrockenheit bezaubert und erstaunt. Er geht die Dinge in einer naiven Kindlichkeit an, um dann seine Beobachtungen mit oft erstaunlich einleuchtenden Weisheiten abzuschliessen.

Dieses Buch hatte auch eine sehr persönliche Bedeutung für mich. Robert Walser war neben Maria Rainer Rilke und Aldous Huxley einer der Lieblingsschriftsteller meines verstorbenen Vaters: Buchhändler, Gourmet, mehr schlechter als rechter Familienvater und sehr unkonventionell in seiner eigenen Art, versuchte mein Vater in seiner deutsch-französischen Buchhandlung in der Geburtsstadt Walsers, die Bücher Walsers einem breiten Publikum schmackhaft zu machen. Leider ohne grossen Erfolg. Nach dem Lesen dieser Lektüre glaube und hoffe ich, meinen vor langer Zeit verstorbenen Vater etwas besser verstanden zu haben. Das ist die Macht der Literatur!

[Teresa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Quando leio Robert Walser é como se estivesse ouvindo um velho sábio que alcançou o segredo da suprema liberdade (felicidade), através de uma vida simples - sem apegos a quaisquer bens materiais - e dedicada à contemplação da natureza.
Neste livro o enredo e as personagens têm pouca importância, pois ele deslumbra apenas pelas palavras.
Os Tanner são cinco irmãos:
Emil é um homem bonito e com talento que acaba num manicómio;
Hedwig é uma professora infeliz porque o que desejava era ser esposa e mãe;
Kaspar é o artista que sonha vir a ser reconhecido como um grande pintor;
Klaus é um homem bem sucedido na vida que vive preocupado com o dever e a sentir-se responsável pelos irmãos;
Simon não é nada e não quer nada além de deambular livremente pela vida. É em Simon que todo o romance se centra e é difícil não o confundir com o próprio Walser: é bem falante o que lhe permite ser admitido em qualquer emprego, no qual pouco tempo fica, pois do que ele gosta é de caminhar e caminhar durante horas e horas por aldeias, cidades, campos, florestas...

Foi numa das suas solitárias caminhadas que o coração de Walser parou; num campo de neve, tal como uma das personagens secundárias deste romance: "Tão nobre a sepultura que ele escolheu para si mesmo. A natureza vela pelos seus mortos, as estrelas cantam em voz baixa em torno da sua cabeça e os pássaros nocturnos grasnam, e é esta a música ideal para quem já não ouve nem sente."

[jeremy · Rating 4 out of 5]

in the tanners, as in much of walser's writing, his singular style is what captivates most. walser's works tend to be thinly plotted, yet the reader is easily carried away by the characters' inner workings. as w.g. sebald notes in the book's introductory remembrance, "everything written in these incomparable books has- as their author might himself have said- a tendency to vanish into thin air. the very passage which a moment before seemed so significant can suddenly appear quite unremarkable." earlier in the intro, sebald writes, "how is one to understand an author who was so beset by shadows and who, nonetheless, illumined every page with the most genial light, an author who created humorous sketches from pure despair, who almost always wrote the same thing and yet never repeated himself, to whom his own thoughts, honed on the tiniest details, became incomprehensible, who had his feet firmly on the ground yet was always getting lost in the clouds, whose prose has the tendency to dissolve upon reading, so that only a few hours later one can barely remember the ephemeral figures, events and things of which it spoke." indeed, walser is quite the enigmatic figure, but his writing has a bucolic quality about it that induces a sort of melancholic revelry. without question, there is no mistaking one of walser's works for that of another author.

the tanners relates the tale of simon tanner, a youngish, ne'er-do-well who spends his time loafing around the city, later the countryside, and, once again, the city. simon is a very bright, congenial young man, curious and introspective, but without any real lasting direction. simon's personality recalls the precocious title character from walser's jakob von gunten, albeit slightly older. simon could easily be the descendant of melville's bartleby or one of pessoa's heteronyms. we are introduced to each of simon's three brothers and his sister as he wanders hither and yon, led by the vaguest inclinations of where to go and what to do next. seeking employment only insofar as he it seeks him, simon flutters from job to job as it suits his mood and interest. with a magnetic personality, simon attracts the attentions of both men and women with relative ease.

there is much to enjoy in the tanners, as there is in all of walser's writing. many of the book's richest passages are contained in the letters simon writes to his siblings, and these insightful epistles alone make the story a worthwhile read. admittedly, the book seems a touch too lengthy, and whereas walser never repeats himself per se, at times the work's overall effect does suffer somewhat from a narrative redundancy. in all, however, the tanners further illustrates that the swiss writer was a remarkably talented writer. under-appreciated even now, some 50 years after his death (eerily presaged with utmost accuracy in this book), perhaps the tanners will expose walser to an ever greater audience.

the lengthy passage on country life (written by simon), excerpted below, is utterly stunning...

in the country, even the poorest man has fewer worries than a far less impoverished city-dweller- for in the city everything is measured by human words and human deeds- while worries here go on worrying as quietly as they may, and pain provides pain's own natural surcease. in the city, everyone races about pell-mell trying to get rich (for which reason so many think themselves bitterly poor), while in the country, at least to a large extent, the poor are spared the insult of constantly being compared with the rich. they can peacefully go on breathing despite their poverty, for they have a whole sky above them to breathe! what is the sky in the city?...

[Eugene · Rating 4 out of 5]

simon says! not the burst of perfect and heart-crumpling song that was JAKOB VON GUNTEN, THE TANNERS is more a patchwork of monologues, but both share the same saint's heart and the ability to lay out all the observable open secrets of our every day.

some writers, you enter their house in faith and give yourself up to in awe -- despite some weaker establishing shots, the occasional hastiness (or more frequently here, the overlong lingering). the heart of the miracle is everywhere apparent nonetheless. and anyway, you were converted by their best moment -- and that was more than enough.

and THE TANNERS does compensate the faithful, not in least ways by being lovely autobiography -- even predictive autobiography:
And he'd frozen to death here, without a doubt, and he must have been lying here on the path for a while... Sebastian must have sunk to the ground here with an immense, no longer endurable weariness... How noble a grave he chose for himself... What splendid peace: reposing and growing stiff beneath fir branches in the snow. You couldn't have chosen anything better. People tend to inflict harm on the eccentric- -- and this is what you were -- and then laugh at their pain. Give my greetings to the dear, silent dead beneath the earth and don't get too badly scorched in the eternal fires of nonexistence. You are elsewhere" (154-5).

other compensations include a defense of the poet's otherwise failures: "And never be so swift to look in scorn upon someone who is failing or appears lethargic or inactive. How quickly his sunshine, his poems can arise from these long, dull dreams!" (109); the helplessness and foolishness of loving art too much: "No sensible man allows himself to be made a fool of by any one thing, tormented and tricked for so long" (78); the agonies of teaching: "But when I'm teaching, I think of other things, things more distant and greater than their little souls" (188); comments on religion: "Religion here has too little sky, it smells too little of the soil" (282); and on misfortune: "Let me tell you, I'm a friend of misfortune, a very intimate friend" (258).

___________

& of possible further interest, another walser site which reveals some of the source material:

Between 1936 and 1955, Carl Seelig, who would become known as a biographer of Albert Einstein, took nearly fifty long walks with his friend the Swiss writer Robert Walser. Seelig would meet Walser at the train station at Herisau in eastern Switzerland or at the sanitarium where Walser had been since the early 1930s, diagnosed with schizophrenia. Seelig’s notes of their walks and conversations have appeared in German as Wanderungen mit Robert Walser and in French translation, but the book has never appeared in English.
from: http://sebald.wordpress.com/category/...

seelig's notes have been translated by bob skinner into english on this nice site with a good search feature, so that a search for "Geschwister Tanner" brings up: http://bobskinner.org/mt/mt-search.cg...
which reveals the following anecdote:
Our conversation touched on Geschwister Tanner, of which Robert said: "I wrote it in Berlin in three or four weeks, essentially without corrections. Bruno Cassirer cut out a few sections he found boring, like the one where Simon found the clerk's manuscript in the oven. That appeared later in the journal Marz, where Hermann Hesse was an editor. My praiseworthy medical director, Dr. Hinrichsen, who saw himself as an important writer, said once that the beginning was good, but the rest was impossible. He said it as though he would have gagged if he'd been forced to read the whole thing." Robert laughed heartily at his own description.

[Merve Eflatun · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5/5

Walser'dan artık daha fazla bir şey okuyamayacak olmak üzücü.

Robert Walser'a Mikrogram Bir Hayran Mektubu

[Pia G. · Rating 4 out of 5]

ben bir gelecek istemiyorum, şu âna sahip olmak istiyorum. bu bana daha değerli görünüyor ve eğer insanın bir şimdisi yoksa o zaman bir gelecek düşünmeyi zaten unutur.

[Rita · Rating 5 out of 5]

Do Robert Walser só tinha lido A Rosa e não tinha gostado especialmente. Agora fiquei com vontade de o reler. Muito bom, este Os Irmãos Tanner! Deambulações.

[julieta · Rating 5 out of 5]

Walser tiene una manera de contar las cosas que ya hace cualquier libro suyo especial. Porque es especial, tiene una ligereza con la vida, que me resulta hasta envidiable a momentos, porque suele encontrar en todo, poesía, belleza, causas de alegría. Simon Tanner es un personaje además memorable. Porque no se mueve de sus creencias, que son básicamente, no creer en nada No sabe que quiere hacer de su vida, pero tampoco le interesa mucho. Se queda sin trabajo y tampoco le importa. No quiere estar dentro de la sociedad de esa manera, pero todo el tiempo está encontrando razones para seguir encantado con observarla.
Las reflexiones de Walser sobre la desdicha, la felicidad, el arte, la vida, son hermosas. Un gran libro, un genial autor. Lo había leído hace años en inglés, pero no tiene comparación, leerlo en español me gustó mucho más.

[Şafak Akyazıcı · Rating 3 out of 5]

30 yaşından önce okunması gereken ilham verici kitaplar başlığı altında neşeli, keyifli, sanırım ufuk açabilecek de bir kitap olarak değerlendirilebilirim Tanner Kardeşler’i.

Robert Walser’den daha önce hikayesi, anlatımıyla benzer denebilecek Jakob von Gunten’i okumuş, çok sevmiştim. Şimdi anlıyorum ki o kitabın 145 sayfa oluşu ve tam tadında bitmiş olmasıyla alakalıymış sevgim.

Tanner Kardeşler ise gereksiz tekrarlayan hikayesi ve Robert Walser’in bizi şiirsel ve romantik anlatımın uyuşukluğuna teslim etmesi “kaç sayfa kaldı” diye diye okuttu bana kitabı.

[Lisa McKenzie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Five meager stars? I would give this book a galaxy of stars.

[Bryant · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nothing happens here. But who cares when the writing is good?

The protagonist Simon is a living ode to eloquent impertinence. When he is fired from a tedious office job, the manager asks whether he would nevertheless like a letter of recommendation, to which Simon says: "From now on I shall write my own references. I shall no longer call upon anyone other than myself when someone asks me for references, which will make the best possible impression on sensible clear-minded people."

Readers familiar with the peculiar Walser will know what a huge role country walks play in his fiction (and, so far as we know, in his own life). His celebrated long story, "The Walk," is his most sustained paean to the delights and meditative qualities of a bucolic amble. When he's not delivering speeches at once graceful and impudent, Simon spends most of this novel on walks.

Read this book for charming, fleeting descriptions of the villages and lakes, mountains and forests, bridges and boats that Simon passes on his walks. In Walser's world, there doesn't seem to be much more than elegant ephemera.

[Sherrymoon · Rating 5 out of 5]

Simply marvellous! Give it a try, maybe you like it as much ore more then me. I don't know, which angels have kissed him, the lovely Mr. Walser, for me a divine writer.
Maybe you are too one of them who likes from time to time to go for a solitary walk, and get enchanted by your surroundings.... or maybe, sometimes you have the opportunity to stop in at a crowded restaurant, or bar or pub, sitting there alone but not lonely at a table and it happens that you fall a bit in love with all the busy funny people and get overwhelmed with all the sparkling noises which occurs in that universe.....yes then you will enjoy Walsers Sister Tanner to the fullest.

image:
Karl Walser, Bildnis seines Bruders Robert Walser, 1900

Even if you call a fantastic plot your primary destination for enjoying reading, what in this case is not encounterable at all, i can imagine, that you will get caught by Walsers writing,cause its beauty will maybe find a way to your heart and touch you.

[Ffiamma · Rating 5 out of 5]

"non posso vivere e disprezzare la mia vita. devo cercarmi una vita, una vita nuova, anche se la vita intera dovesse consistere soltanto in una ricerca di vita. che cosa è essere rispettati a paragone dell'essere felici e avere appagato l'orgoglio dell'animo? anche essere infelici, è sempre più bello che essere rispettati. io sono infelice, nonostante il rispetto di cui godo; dunque, di fronte a me, non merito questo rispetto, giacché ai miei occhi è degna di rispetto soltanto la felicità. di conseguenza, devo cercare se è possibile essere felice senza pretendere il rispetto. forse esiste per me una felicità di questo genere ed esiste un rispetto che si tributa all'amore e alla nostalgia, non all'intelligenza. io non voglio essere infelice perché mi è mancato il coraggio di ammettere che si può diventare infelici tentando di divenire felici"
(capolavoro)

[Domenico Fina · Rating 5 out of 5]

"L'edificio di una banca è proprio una cosa stupida in primavera".
[...]
"Giovanotto, lei è troppo impulsivo" disse il direttore. "Lei distrugge il suo avvenire".
"Io non voglio un avvenire, voglio un presente. Mi sembra più prezioso. Si ha un avvenire soltanto quando si ha un presente, e quando si ha un presente si dimentica anche solo di pensare a un avvenire".
"La saluto. Temo che nella vita passerà dei brutti momenti. Lei mi interessava, perciò ho ascoltato le sue parole; altrimenti non avrei perso tanto tempo con lei. Forse ha sbagliato mestiere, forse diventerà qualcuno. Cerchi comunque di star bene". ...

[Lisa · Rating 5 out of 5]

A strange and wonderful book, full of philosophy and self examination. Walser's descriptions of Simon's walks, the beautiful country he immersed himself in, are wonderful and I like how this young man, all of 20, chose not to saddle himself down in any job, choosing instead to wander, dream and meet with, and listen to, many interesting people.

[Elena · Rating 3 out of 5]

Como muchas otras lectoras llegué a Walser a través de Vila-Matas. El inolvidable inicio de "Doctor Pasavento" recrea la muerte en la nieve del escritor suizo. Un episodio asombrosamente parecido al que relata en "Los hermanos Tanner": encontrar el cuerpo sin vida de un joven poeta en el bosque sepultado entre la nieve. Quizás el relato más destacado de una novela que, por otro lado, me ha decepcionado enormemente después del grato recuerdo que atesoro de "Jakob Von Gunten". Un narrador ingenuo entre monólogos que, entre tú y yo, dan más la chapa que otra cosa.

No es una novela de iniciación, como su veinteañero protagonista nos haría pensar; ni una saga familiar, como el título podría indicar. Son los vagabundeos de Simon, sin oficio ni beneficio, que se va encontrando gente a la que usa como oyentes de sus monsergas. Largas y aburridas arengas defendiendo sus particulares punto de vista y divagaciones entre la vida en el campo y la ciudad, la amistad y un largo etcétera.

[Fazilet Özdiker · Rating 5 out of 5]

Robert Walser’ın kendi ailesinden esinlendiği kitap büyük ölçüde otobiyografik özellikler taşır. Büyük kardeş Klaus Tanner yazarın coğrafya profesörü olan kardeşi Hermann Walser’ın, ressam Kaspar kardeşi Karl Walser’ın, aklını yitiren Emil akıl hastanesinde olan kardeşi Ernst Walser’ın ve öğretmen kız kardeş Hedwig yine yazarın kız kardeşi Lisa’nın vücut bulmuş halidir. Ve kendinden yola çıktığı Simon Tanner, kitabımızın ana karakteridir. Çok fazla düşünen, başına buyruk ve kararsız, genç ve çocuksu olan Simon hayattaki yerini amacını ararken sürekli olarak iş değişikliği yapar. İş bulma kurumundan çıkmaz, kendisine yapılan teklifleri reddeder ve bu durum büyük kardeşi Klaus’un dikkatinden kaçmaz. Klara adında bir kadının yanında, kardeşi Kaspar ile yaşamaya başlayan Simon bir yandan da aşkı ve arkadaşlığı sorgular…

Hayalleriyle, kolayca vazgeçtiği işlerle, yazdığı ama bitiremediği mektuplarla, hiçbir şey yapmamaya olan bağlıl��ğı ve sürekli olarak sunduğu bahanelerle şahane bir anti-kahraman yaratmış Robert Walser. Kendini geliştirmeyi bir saniye bile düşünmez Simon. Kardeşlerini dinlemez, herkes kendine bir yol çizerken o hep bahanelerine sığınır. Modern çalışma hayatına karşı da bir başkaldırıdır bu aynı zamanda. Ve çok ironiktir ki kitabın sevdiğim karakterlerinden biri olan Sebastian, yıllar sonra 1956’da yazarın bulunduğu gibi bir ormanda soğuktan donmuş vaziyette bulunur.

Ana karakteri hiç sevmesem de hakkında çok düşündüğüm, aile üyeleri arasındaki temel ilişkileri ve iletişimsizliği okurken bir yandan da yazarın gerçek ailesini araştırmama vesile olan kitabı gerçekten çok sevdim. Gönül rahatlığıyla tavsiye ediyorum.