Herscht 07769

by László Krasznahorkai, Daniel Gustafsson (Translator)

Kana är en stad någonstans i tyska Thüringen. De enda som visar något intresse för den ödsliga och försakade staden är nynazister. Stadens invånare betraktar å sin sida främlingarna med misstro och förakt.

Bara Florian Herscht inbillar sig att han står på god fot med personer på båda sidor om konflikten. Han är vänlig och hjälpsam – och stark som få – men har en inneboende rädsla för tatueringar och är övertygad om att universum går mot sin undergång. För att varna alla om den annalkande katastrofen skriver han brev till förbundskansler Merkel; brev som knappast förvånande lämnas obesvarade.

Endast Johann Sebastian Bachs musik kan erbjuda honom tröst. Men så vandaliseras den store kompositörens grav av oskön graffiti, polisen söker vandalerna utan framgång, vargar strosar omkring i skogsbrynet – apokalypsen tycks närma sig med stormsteg.

Den store ungerske mästaren László Krasznahorkai har skrivit en roman om dagens Europa – en roman som tydligt bär hans särmärke i samtidslitteraturen. Tanken på ett enat Europa går åt fanders, den melankoliska humorn blandas med avgrundsdjup sarkasm, tankarna svindlar och meningarna vindlar, och kanske, kanske är vi ändå på väg mot den annalkande katastrofen som bokens huvudperson så ivrigt försöker upplysa omvärlden om.

Genres: Fiction, Hungary, Literature, Novels, Literary Fiction, Hungarian Literature, Contemporary

375 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2021

About the author

László Krasznahorkai is a Hungarian novelist and screenwriter who is known for critically difficult and demanding novels, often labelled as postmodern, with dystopian and bleak melancholic themes. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2025.

He is probably best known through the oeuvre of the director Béla Tarr, who has collaborated with him on several movies.

Apart from the Nobel Prize, Krasznahorkai has also been honored with numerous literary prizes, among them the highest award of the Hungarian state, the Kossuth Prize, and the 2015 Man Booker International Prize for his English-translated oeuvre.

Reviews

[Meike · Rating 4 out of 5]

Now Winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature 2025
Nominated for the National Book Critics Circle Barrios Book in Translation Prize 2024
This is not a fun read for any German, but Krasznahorkai is addressing an urgent and important topic when he writes about neo-Nazis in East Germany. In the recent national election that took place four weeks ago, the far-right party AfD, which in some states is under surveillance by the Office for the Protection of the Constitution, became the strongest party in both Saxony and Thuringia, where Krasznahorkai's novel is set. Looking at East Germany as a whole, the AfD is the second-strongest party. 25 % in Saxony, 5 % in Hamburg - there is a new divide between East and West, and it threatens the constitution (and I'm not saying that there are no Nazis in the West, but the problem in the East is apparent).

Krasznahorkai's protagonist is Florian Herscht, a simple-minded worker with a good heart. His authoritarian, fascist boss took him out of a care facility and under his wing, now they are cleaning surfaces from graffitis and other soiling while the boss is idolizing Johann Sebastian Bach and trying to convince Herscht to join the brotherhood (yes, it's exactly what you think). Meanwhile, Herscht has attended public classes about quantum theory by a local physicist and, being unable to process science and thus misinterpreting it into catastrophic thinking, Herscht is trying to reach out to Angela Merkel in order to warn her about the impending apocalypse. The return address on his letters: "Herscht 07769".

The postal code doesn't actually exist, but 0776 is the area code for Saale-Holzland-Kreis, which entails the city of Kahla (postal code: 07768) - in the novel, the city is named Kana. In WW II, forced laborers had to work in the porcelain plant in Kahla, and during the GDR, the city was famous for its porcelain - and the porcelain industry is also a key motif in Kana, so I guess we're on to something when we say that Krasznahorkai had indeed this area in mind. Kahla is a hot spot for neo-Nazis, where they have gained major societal and cultural influence (you can read about it here). A member of the city council, who had switched parties from Merkel's CDU to the AfD, killed himself, which has since been weaponized as a conspiracy theory by the far right. Misinformation, hatred, alienation, a feeling of deprivation - Krasznahorkai takes this themes and turns them into disturbing art. What are the forces that drive these people? In German, "Herrscht" (with two "r") means "reigns", as in: "he reigns".

And the author knows a thing or two about Germany, as he has lived in Berlin for several years and has taught as a professor at the Free University. The main representative of German high culture who becomes a projection surface in the book is Bach, the Bachhaus in the book is a real museum in the composer's hometown of Eisenach, Thuringia. In 2016, the Bachhaus showed an exhibition entitled "Luther, Bach and the Jews", you can read an article about it here.

Regarding the style of the novel, Krasznahorkai has elaborated: "In my novels and stories I use a style that does not take into account the tradition of the last few hundred years. The reason for this is that I don't feel obliged to use a filter or to force the monologues pouring into me into any disciplinary form. The flowing things and the conversations of the people reach me with an overwhelming force, who am I to put obstacles in the face of these insurmountable forces? I write down the monologues just as they thunder into my brain, I don't cut them into nice little pieces. (...) Bach's music is also very complex, but we listen to it without stopping it at the bar limits, just because it gives us the time to rethink where we are actually." What's not to love about that concept?

If you want to learn more about the political situation in East Germany, journalist Moritz von Uslar writes about the rise of right-wing sentiments in the East, in this case in Brandenburg, in Deutschboden: Eine teilnehmende Beobachtung and Nochmal Deutschboden. Meine Rückkehr in die brandenburgische Provinz. Or you can listen to our podcast's internet buddy Alex Prinz, a political YouTuber from Saxony-Anhalt who speaks out against the AfD, but also tries to explain why so many people in the East fall for it (here's his video about the current atmosphere in East Germany). If you don't read German or you'd like to see a broader picture, check out The Light that Failed: A Reckoning which does a great job discussing how right-wing forces became that strong in former Soviet States.

Until then, read Krasznahorkai, this book is certainly worth your time.

[Marc Kozak · Rating 4 out of 5]

As an American, it's probably not the best time to read a book with a first page that only reads: "Hope is a mistake," but such are the works of László Krasznahorkai, the writer of famously difficult, famously punishing novels. And we love him for it.

His 2021 work, "Herscht 07769," has just been translated into English thanks to the fine folks at New Directions, and if you've read anything by László before (or seen any of his adapted movies), you have a good idea what you're in for: an experimental style (in this case, the book consists of only one 400-page sentence), a small region/town slowly descending into complete collapse, a nicely-realized set of townsfolk with their own individual problems and desires, and yes, not a lot of hope.

If you're thinking that doesn't sound like a lot of fun to read, you'd be both correct and incorrect. Reading Krasznahorkai is always difficult; he is probably one of the more difficult modern literary novelists. But it's not usually because the words are hard or the concepts are abstract; it's just all a lot, you know?

Let's start with his style. He has always used extremely long sentences and very little (if any) paragraph breaks, so you're dealing with a few hundred pages of just solid, wall-to-wall text. With this book, he finally said, "fuck it, just ONE LONG SENTENCE," so if you're turned off by those sorts of things, this is gonna be a rough ride. The thing is, though: it works. Krasznahorkai has said about his style: "I write down the monologues just as they thunder into my brain, I don't cut them into nice little pieces." So what you get is not quite stream of consciousness, but more of a large, cascading idea, with each phrase neatly moving into the next, each fragment connected to the last, resulting in a kind of slow-moving, lava-flow of story. Once you get into it, it's really quite extraordinary, but it is an adjustment from reading most typical novels and I can see how some might be turned off by it.

And then there's the hopelessness. Krasznahorkai is writing specifically here about what's going on in the East German region of Thuringia, where the hard-right populist party, the Alternative for Germany (AfD), is taking root, winning a major election in the region just a few months ago, which is starting to remind people of the rise of the Nazi party in 1930. Even though the story is set in that region, you can see how it's also applicable to say, other parts of the world right now?

Krasznahorkai is interested in exploring how these re-emerging nationalistic attitudes can fuel divisiveness and tear apart communities. Our main character here is Florian Herscht, a very large man but a gentle giant, simple-minded and kind, happy to work and help his neighbors. He is taken under the wing of a neo-Nazi that employs him to clean graffiti, and constantly tries to convince him to join his brotherhood. At the same time, Florian attends local lectures on quantum theory held by a local physicist, and misunderstands the "matter-antimatter asymmetry problem," causing him to believe that the universe might blink out of existence with no warning at any moment. He begins writing letters (with the return postmark of "Herscht 07769") to the German chancellor Angela Merkel, assuming that she will know what to do and save us all.

The novel also digs into the lives of the rest of the townfolk, most of them simple, fearful folks who gossip and fret about the increasing dangers in and around the town: the worrying group of neo-Nazis, an increase in immigrants but a lack of tourists, packs of wolves attacking people, an increase in police activity, and many other problems common to small towns around Germany.

The cascading prose moves along, and at times you start to think Krasznahorkai is repeating himself and things aren't really going anywhere, but slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, things start to change; the bad events start to start to pile up and the overall sense of impending doom builds and builds. The prose style really adds to this effect, lulling you into a sense of security while you're slowly starting to drown one drip at a time. By the time things really start to escalate in the last hundred pages, you feel like you have taken the ride along with the townsfolk and can almost understand their fearfulness and distrust.

It's an effective piece of work and an especially timely one; if you've recently found yourself asking "how could people think that way" or "how could you possibly vote for that person," this book does a pretty good job of showing how that could happen. In fact, it argues that it's almost inevitable that this would happen, and that's society's collapse is just a matter of time, with things like nationalism and conspiracy theory just mere symptoms of a larger, cosmic disease.

Hey, he warned you at the beginning: "hope is a mistake." Krasznahorkai is one of our finest modern novelists, holding the mirror up to society in a way that is hard to look at, reflecting an ugly image entirely of our own making.

[Paul Fulcher · Rating 5 out of 5]

From the winner of the 2025 Nobel Prize in Literature

Angela Merkel, Chancellor of the Federal Republic of Germany, Willy-Brandt-Straße 1, 10557 Berlin—that was the address he wrote down; then, in the upper left-hand corner, he wrote only Herscht 07769 and nothing else, signaling, as it were, the confidential nature of this matter; no point, he thought, in wasting words by adding any more precise indicators of his own self,

Herscht 07769 is Ottilie Mulzet's translation of the novel of the same name by László Krasznahorkai.

It opens as per the quote above (and longer one below) with the novel's central figure, Florian Herscht, a gentle (at least for half of the novel) giant, a Dostoevskyian holy fool, writing a letter to Angela Merkel towards the end of her term.

Florian Herscht lives in a largely empty block of flats in the small town of Kana, whose post code is 07769, one situated in Thuringia, in the former East Germany, a fictional place but one that reviewers here and in the media - e.g. see Meike's excellent review - have part-identified with the real-life town of Kahla.

The flats that the Ostthüringer Zeitung suggest could be the model for Florian's apartment block.



Florian has been taking adult education night-classes in the 'Modern Paths of Physics' given by a local amateur physicist and metrologist, Herr Köhler, and then later one-on-one tuition, and has become obsessed with what happened at the Big Bang, believing that the universe came into being by a mistake, meaning that it could just as easily be extinguished. So much so that he decides to implore Angela Merkel to convene the UN Security Council to deal with this most urgent threat:

only then, as he was headed home, it was truly as if he’d been struck by lightning because he suddenly realized what Herr Köhler was trying to say, and he was very frightened because this meant that the entire universe rested upon the inexplicable fact that in a closed vacuum, in addition to every one billion particles of matter, one billion antiparticles also arise, and when matter and antimatter meet they extinguish each other, but then suddenly they don’t, because after that one billion and first particle, the one billion and first antiparticle doesn’t arise, and so this one material particle remains in existence, or directly it brings existence into life: as abundance, as surplus, as excess, as a mistake, and the entire universe exists because of this, only because of this, namely without it, the universe never would have existed—this thought frightened Florian so much that he had to stop, he had to lean against the wall when he got to the end of Oststraße, and turned left on Fabrikstraße, going toward the Shopping Center,

Florian works for man he refers to as 'the Boss', leader of a gang of traditionalist Neo-Nazis (the reject the obsession with other rival groups with modern-day immigration, believing that the movement needs to return to its roots in anti-Semitism); huge fan of Bach's music and leader also of a local orchestra who he is trying, in vain, to get to focus on and master Bach's more complex works rather than TV theme tunes; and, as this is where Florian is employed, owner of a small firm that specialises in removing graffiti, often at zero charge but simply as a public service.

The plot is driven by:

- Florian's obsession with writing to Angela Merkel, and surprise at her lack of replies;

- the sudden disappearance of Herr Köhler (Florian assumes he has been taken to brief the UN in New York);

- a graffiti artist who defaces various monuments to Bach in with wolf emblems, which enrages the Boss, but which others blame on him, including another inhabitant of the town, who attempts, to create an anti-Nazi movement;

- a series of bomb attacks in the surrounding area;

- Florian's own transformation into something of an avenging angel, accompanied by a wild eagle; and

- the appearance in the surrounding Dohlenstein hills of wolves, causing terror in the town, particularly when the putative leader of the anti-Nazi gang falls victim to their attacks, and is saved by the Boss, but also the arrival of some naturalists from NABU (the Nature And Biodiversity Conservation Union) to explain why this is a good thing:

they can explain to me all they want, Herr Heinrich shook his head in Ilona's buffet, they can talk all they want, a wolf is a wolf, and a wolf is a monster and that's all, and everyone at Ilona's agreed, especially Hoffmann, who was running up a big debt at Ilona's and was looking for Florian, maybe he could get something from him, but Florian was nowhere to be found, so that at Ilona's Hoffmann cowered and only spoke very rarely, but now he did speak up, and he said that he was of the same opinion, because a wolf was a wolf, that's exactly correct, a wolf does not know mercy; although as Tamás Ramsthaler —his own importance emphasized by the white mask on his face — said to the sparse audience in the room made available to him by the Rathaus, more precisely to those four Kana residents who thought they might learn something from NABU about what to expect from these mountain visitors: the fear of wolves is as old as humanity itself, or at least so they say, because I must admit, he raised his voice, when I began to deal with this theme, I myself was utterly shocked by the naivete and ignorance surrounding it, because before the Middle Ages and after the Middle Ages, whatever, no one ever took the trouble to get a little closer and get to know this magnificent, this exceptional, animal, no one was interested to find out what we were facing in reality, because the fear was so strong that it would have only been disturbed by the truth, because it is easy to renounce truth but difficult to renounce fear, so that the words of the first learned minds espousing a scientifically acceptable view regarding these magnificent creatures were nothing more than phrases shouted in the desert, the myths and legends and fairy tales about the bloodthirsty wolf were always more credible than the wolves that truly—I must emphasize —lived together with us until we exterminated them, all down to the last wolf, Tamás Ramsthaler from NABU raised his voice, because this is what happened, by the end of the nineteenth century not a single wolf remained in Germany, and only since the 1980s and 1990s— in no small part thanks to the goodwill of organizations such as ourselves at NABU —have we begun to counter this situation, but there is still much to be done, he said,



As this quote illustrates, the novel is written in Krasznahorkai's style of one long unbroken (albeit punctuated with colons and semi-colons, not just commas) sentence, although he remarks, accurately, in an interview with Tank Magazine that this is a rushing, breathless prose, not the "slow lava-flow" that was described by George Szirtes and graced many an English-translation book-cover and review for some time:

Although it is true that the text rushes onward, uninterrupted by periods, it is not a “lava flow,” as one English poet tried to characterize it. No, lava is slow, and my text is more like a creature running headlong, breathless, bearing a certain destiny in its soul, away from something and at the same time toward something else. One doesn’t need periods but breath and rhythm, tempo and melody. And it is not true that I don’t use periods; I do use a period just once and only once – and the reason for that is that periods are so very important for me. I rush along with the text, the text rushes on, and all of a sudden, the end arrives, and Someone Far Mightier than I am, or we are, whispers in my ear, “Hey, this is where you will put that period.”

(the reference to 'one English poet' rather dismissive of the translator of The Melancholy of Resistance, War & War and Satantango, and someone he once described as one of my heroes)

Indeed that Szirtes quote was first linked to The Melancholy of Resistance, within which our 'hero', the holy fool Valuska, tells us how to read the novel: like a colt accommodating itself to the pace of his mother, he should tie himself as closely as possible to the headlong rush of the dark, galloping narrative.

At the same time though as the apocalyptic plot, and again as the quote illustrates, Krasznahorkai has a wonderful way of filling out the very human aspects of a rich case of townspeople, many of who are simply living their lives and trying to avoid all of the above as far as possible:

- the various members of The Boss's gang, from the rather terrifying and largely silent Karin, the garrulous Fritz, Jürgen and Andreas who support two local rival football teams Chemie Kana and BSG Wismut Gera, Gerhart and Uwe;



- Dr Jacob-Friedrich Tietz - a physicist and Herr Köhler's friend;

- Herr Köhler's two gossipy neighbours Frau Burgmuller and Frau Schneider;

- Frau and Herr Hopf who run a guesthouse;

- the owners of the local Aral Gas Station, and cafe, Nadir and Rosario;

- Ilona who runs the local Grillhausel;

- Frau Uta who runs a cafe with internet where Florian goes to browse the web;

- Frau Ringer, the librarian, who cares greatly for Florian, and Herr Ringer, her husband, a mechanic, and strong anti Nazi;

- Herr Feldmann, the lead violinist in the orchestra and nemesis of the boss, and his wife Brigitte who becomes a close friend of Frau Ringer;

- The Deputy, who acts as a caretaker for the almost abandoned building where Florian lives;

- his friend Pförtner, ironically a janitor (the German word means that) at the local, now defunct, porcelain factory (the real-life one in the real-life Kahla is still flourishing)

- Jessica and Horst Volkenant from the post office, he a career post office bureaucrat, and her trying to inject some human touches into their interactions with their customers;

- Archie, tattooist to the gang;

- the Revierförster, whose main interest in the appearance of wolves in the area is if it can help him sell more of his honey;

- Auntie Ingrid, a elderly eccentric, who in the middle of wolves, bombs and murders is keen to organise a chrysanthemum competition.

The second half of the novel also takes on something of a Mars Attack flavour as various of the characters start dropping like flies from causes natural or otherwise.

And one mystery to the novel where I'd love to see what others think - every 40 pages or so, in the middle of the torrent of text - a particular phrase (not always contiguous with the text) is separated out in much larger font.



Together they form a sort of odd poetry - but their significance ...?

with nothing out of nothing
from somewhere to somewhere
the world was disappearing
the silence in Berlin
when it comes to Bach, nothing is easy
it was a source of deep consolation
he served big scoops
in the presence of greatness
Falsche Welt, dir trau ich nicht!
there is nothing that is perfect, only
and light blue
only for complete emptiness

Another fascinating novel from one of the finest novelists in world literature. Not his absolute best but still on a different level to most novelists.


Longer extract from the opening to the novel:

Angela Merkel, Chancellor of the Federal Republic of Germany, Willy-Brandt-Straße 1, 10557 Berlin—that was the address he wrote down; then, in the upper left-hand corner, he wrote only Herscht 07769 and nothing else, signaling, as it were, the confidential nature of this matter; no point, he thought, in wasting words by adding any more precise indicators of his own self, as the post office would send the reply back to Kana based on the postcode, and here, in Kana, the post office could get the letter to him based on his name; most essentially, everything was contained on the piece of paper which he had just now folded twice, nicely and accurately, slipping it into the envelope, everything formulated in his own words that began by noting that the Chancellor, a learned natural scientist, would clearly and immediately understand what was on his mind here in Kana, Thuringia, in wishing to call her attention to the need for such a personage as herself, who, in addition to tending to the everyday troubles and cares of the Bundesrepublik, must also attend to seemingly distant troubles and cares, especially when all of these troubles and cares were besieging everyday life with such destructive force, and now he was obliged to speak of a siege, a staggering presence, in his view, threatening the existence of the country, indeed all of humanity, as well as societal order, a siege looming from ever more directions, but among which he must emphasize only the most important: the seemingly unanswerable distress signal emitted by natural philosophy in the course of the vacuum experiments, concealed within methodological descriptions— although it had come to light a long time ago, he himself had realized only now that in a completely empty space, demotically understood, events were occurring; and this in and of itself was enough reason for the leader of the country, as well as one of the most influential people in the entire world, to prioritize this and exactly this matter and convene the UN Security Council—it was the very least she could do— because at stake here was not merely a political matter, but one of immediate existential import, and he sketched out the details briefly, and that was it: he was of the opinion that it would be best to be succinct, as he knew the addressee would have very little time to read his letter, no point in being verbose when writing to an expert,

[Kuszma · Rating 4 out of 5]

Először csak a tényeket, a csupasz tényeket:
1. Igen, a hír igaz: ez a könyv egyetlen, bő négyszáz oldalon keresztül kacskaringózó mondat.
2. Amiben bizonyos Florian Herscht leveleket ír Angela Merkelnek. Aki nem válaszol. (Bár szigorúan véve nem tény, de én ki merem jelenteni: el sem olvassa ezeket a leveleket. Talán most, hogy nyugalomba vonul, több ideje lesz ilyesmikre is.)
3. Florian Herschtnek van egy főnöke, akit az egyszerűség kedvéért Bossznak hívnak. Ő egy náci. De szereti Bachot.
4. Azt viszont nem szereti, hogy valaki Bach-emlékhelyekre farkasfejeket graffitiz fel.
5. Amúgy meg minden megromolni, elrothadni látszik. Az apokalipszis lovasai köröttünk keringenek, csontos gebéik a fülünkbe fújtatnak. Csak azért nem rontanak ránk, mert még az apokalipszishez sem vagyunk elég jók.

(Aki ismeri Krasznahorkait, azt az 1. és az 5. pont talán nem annyira lepi meg.)

Motoszkált bennem, hogy én ezt a Krasznahorkait már olvastam. Ez a Florian is... mintha "Az ellenállás melankóliája" Valuskájának felmelegített verziója lenne, csak keresztezték szegényt Lennie-vel az "Egerek és emberek"-ből*. (És ami ott Eszter úr, az itt Herr Köhler.) A türinghiai vidék is ismerős, a Sátántangó leharcolt tájait vélem felfedezni benne, csak épp Kelet-Németországra installálva. Szóval: láttunk már ilyet.

És mégis. Jó. Mindig meglepődöm (mert mélyen antielitista olvasónak tartom magam), hogy Krasznahorkait élvezni lehet. Pedig de. Egyszerűen jó olvasni, felfeküdni ezekre a mondatokra (illetve erre az egy mondatra), és hagyni, hogy sodródjunk – a nyílt vízre ki. Velejéig cselekményes könyv ez, van húzása. Voltaképpen bátor dolognak tartom azt is, hogy az író, leereszkedvén a Parnasszusról közibénk, az akciófilmek kliséihez nyúl a kötet második felében. Végtére is mivel ábrázolná jobban egy elitista író a romlást, mint akciófilmes klisékkel? Szóval én élveztem, lelkem rajta.

És van benne egy nagy pesszimista szállóige is: „A remény hiba.” Ha Kurt Cobain élne, biztos lefoglalná albumcímnek.

* Florian "átváltozása" a kötet második felére (ami ebből a hosszú mondatból tulajdonképpen két élesen elváló történetet kreál, és egyben elszakítja Florian figuráját Valuskáétól) bizonyos tekintetben a pesszimizmus maga: hogy a jámborság nem éli túl a változást.

[Jonfaith · Rating 5 out of 5]

it was truly as if he’d been struck by lightning because he suddenly realized what Herr Köhler was trying to say, and he was very frightened because this meant that the entire universe rested upon the inexplicable fact that in a closed vacuum, in addition to every one billion particles of matter, one billion antiparticles also arise, and when matter and antimatter meet they extinguish each other, but then suddenly they don’t, because after that one billion and first particle, the one billion and first antiparticle doesn’t arise, and so this one material particle remains in existence, or directly it brings existence into life: as abundance, as surplus, as excess, as a mistake, and the entire universe exists because of this, only because of this, namely without it, the universe never would have existed—this thought frightened Florian so much that he had to stop,

Not my first by the Maestro but still a triumph. He gives us a four hundred page sentence which details Florian -- a hulking middlebrow, upset by the revelations of physics and thus a vulnerable mark to the local right-wing extremists in contemporary Germany. This is a noir trope extended to Modernist perfection in a bleak tale involving wolves, the baroque, xenophobia and the veracity debate across the political spectrum. The author succeeds by being relentless. There's a creeping strain to quotidian until everyone lives in perfect despair. I was beyond moved. The evolution of Florian's "thought" is a remarkable feat. I wasn't expecting it. Matters proceed and details assume a cursed charge. The terror embedded in the Sublime is matched only by the banal silence. Neighbors stay indoors. Our sense-making becomes digital and the empirical only provides unease. The plot of the procedural becomes a manual for phenomenology. Don't look for angels.

[Chris · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dit werd mijn vijfde en tot nog toe vlotst lezende Krasznahorkai. Mijn favorieten blijven echter zijn iets lastiger te doorploegen, maar wilder tot de duivelse verbeelding sprekende romans De melancholie van het verzet en Satanstango. Herscht 07769 zou ik dan ook aanraden aan wie met deze onvergelijkbare auteur wil beginnen.

Er lopen een aantal bekende, Krasznahorkaiaanse draden door dit verhaal: een ontwapenend eerlijk, ietwat naïef en onschuldig hoofdpersonage, een duister, almaar dreigender sfeertje, een breed scala aan nevenpersonages die geen van allen zwartwit worden neergezet, maar wel allemaal hun eigen klein kantjes hebben en verder de muziek van Johann Sebastian Bach die ook in De melancholie van het verzet een structurerende pendant vormt voor de chaos.

Uiteraard valt er veel tussen de regels te rapen van deze 400 pagina's tellende zin: extreem-rechts en neo-nazisme in Duitsland ligt er relatief dik bovenop, maar ook de huiselijke kleinburgerlijkheid, de roddels, de geruchtenmolens en de complottheorieën, de angst voor het onbekende, het andere en de vervreemding van de natuur. Krasznahorkai zoomt vaak uiterst gedetailleerd in, sluipt de huiskamers binnen waar onuitgesproken wetten gelden om dan weer uit te zoomen naar de intrige, inclusief de nodige verbeeldingskracht en de symboliek van de wolven.

In verband met dat laatste moest ik bij momenten weleens denken aan Karl One Knausgårds De morgenster-cyclus, die trouwens ook verwantschap vertoont met Satanstango. Het mooie aan de romans van deze kersverse Hongaarse Nobelprijswinnaar blijft voor mij echter zijn vloeiende taal waarmee hij moeiteloos de ene scène in de andere laat overlopen, van het ene personage naar het volgende. Dat is en blijft een genot en zoals gezegd kostte het me bij deze roman geen enkele moeite. Het las als een trein ... op weg naar de afgrond. Maar wat een reis alweer, met Bach als soundtrack dan nog wel!

[Markus · Rating 5 out of 5]

Früher war alles besser in Deutschland, genauer gesagt in Thüringen, 07769 Kana, vielleicht nicht die Straßen, die waren früher noch schlechter, aber sonst alles, die Porzellanfabrik steht still, die vietnamesischen Arbeiter sind weg, Neonazis machen die Gegend unsicher, das Bach-Haus in Eisenach wird mit Graffiti geschändet, von Bayern her siedeln sich Wölfe an, dann bricht auch noch die Pandemie herein, und im Grillhäusel, der Imbissbude beim Baumarkt, sitzen sie bei Bockwurst und einer Flasche Köstritzer, die Übriggebliebenen, die Rentner und Hartz4-Empfänger, und besprechen die Lage, allgemeine Gereiztheit und Empörung, Hoffnungslosigkeit und Angst, alles geht den Bach runter, auch Florian Herscht, der liebenswerte, schlichte aber bärenstarke Protagonist ist pessimistisch, wenn es nach ihm geht, ist sogar das Universum im Begriff, sich auszulöschen, weshalb er Briefe an Angela Merkel schreibt, schließlich ist sie Physikerin, übrigens ist dieser Florian Herscht eine der geheimnisvollsten und interessantesten Figuren, die mir in der Literatur je untergekommen sind, und über dessen Entwicklung ich noch lange nachdenken werde, und dann, tatsächlich, folgt es Schlag auf Schlag: Explosion, Morde, Verbrechen, Unfall, Krankheit, und keine Hilfe in Sicht, weder von Frau Merkel noch von der Polizei.

... die Angst war so groß, dass die Realität diese Angst nur gestört hätte, denn auf die Realität kann man leicht, aber auf die Angst kann man nur schwer verzichten, ...

Lászlo Krasznahorkai hat mit Herscht 07769 ein neues Wunderwerk geschaffen. Nicht nur der Zustand Deutschlands, ja des ganzen Universums werden in einem einzigen, über 400 Seiten langen Satz so trefflich und so mitreißend beschrieben, dass ich nicht mehr aufhören konnte zu lesen - bis mir die Augen zufielen.

Falsche Welt, dir trau ich nicht

Den ungewöhnlichen Erzählstil mochte ich schon bei den letzten beiden Romanen Krasznahorkais, und er hat ihn nochmals auf ein neues Level gehoben. Der Text fließt ganz natürlich und organisch dahin und hat außer Beistrichen keine weitere Strukturierung nötig, keine Punkte, keine Absätze, keine Kapitel. Der Fokus bewegt sich ganz dicht von Figur zu Figur, die Dialoge sind nahtlos eingebunden, und genauso nahtlos wechseln Schauplätze und Blickwinkel. Der Bogen spannt sich von kosmischen Dimensionen bis zum trivialsten Alltag, es geht um die Geheimnisse des Universums, die absolute Vollkommenheit der Musik J.S.Bachs und im nächsten Augenblick sinniert Frau Hopf über die Kaffeepreise bei Penny oder Lidl. Die zeitliche Perspektive oszilliert immer wieder zwischen Rückblende und Vorschau, was ganz wesentlich zur Spannung beiträgt. Das klingt jetzt geradezu unlesbar, aber ganz im Gegenteil, es liest sich unkompliziert und mühelos, und ist man ein Stück weit eingedrungen, zieht einen das Geschehen wie ein Strudel in die Tiefe und lässt einen nicht mehr los bis zur letzten Seite.

die vollkommene Leere

Tilakkhana werden im Buddhismus die drei Daseinsmerkmale genannt: Vergänglichkeit, Leiden und Substanzlosigkeit. Auf den Schauplätzen in und um Kana wird sattsam gelitten und gestorben, und die Quantentheorie sowie die Musik sind gute Beispiele dafür, dass es im Fluss der Zeit nichts Bleibendes und nichts Absolutes geben kann außer der vollkommenen Leere. Alles entsteht und vergeht in gegenseitiger Abhängigkeit. Krasznahorkai lebte lange in Asien und ist dem östlichen Denken verbunden. Vielleicht höre ich die Flöhe husten, aber ich habe den Verdacht, dass seine Motivation und Inspiration, wenn auch nicht explizit, in diesem Denken zu finden sind. Es ist ja auch seine Sprache, die immer mehr die Form des zeitlosen Fließens annimmt. In jedem Fall findet sich eine gewisse Universalität in seinen Romanen, nicht nur in diesem.
Für mich ein gewaltiges Meisterwerk, und nebenbei schon mein siebenter Krasznahorkai, der mich vorbehaltlos mit fünf Sternen begeistert.

[Marcello S · Rating 5 out of 5]

Quasi 500 pagine in apnea senza punti e senza a capo. Come Jon Fosse, ma con più trama. Ha quel tipico effetto travolgente da fiume-in-piena e ingorgo-di-parole con continui passaggi di testimone tra i personaggi, alcuni spettacolari. Messa in scena essenziale con una prosa che si apre a ventaglio, improvvise dilatazioni del ritmo narrativo e ripetizioni martellanti. Si parla (anche) di neonazisti, Bach, Angela Merkel, fisica quantistica, solitudini e sparizioni, lupi, pandemia. Ambientato in Turingia.
Prima esperienza con l’autore, quindi non so dire se meglio peggio rispetto al resto. Di certo Krasznahorkai si candida nel mio immaginario a cintura nera di performer.
Mediamente faticoso, molto poco adatto a chi “leggo qualche pagina prima di dormire”.

[81/100]

[Wim Oosterlinck]

Het was boekhandelaar Steven Van Ammel die mij in de podcast ‘drie boeken’ zei dat het een kwestie van tijd was voor László Krasznahorkai de Nobelprijs literatuur zou winnen. Ik had zijn naam toen nog nooit gehoord. Ik las eerst Oorlog en oorlog, een boek dat mij wegsloeg en verbijsterde, daarna zijn debuut Satanstango. Op 9 oktober 2025 werd bekendgemaakt dat László Krasznahorkai de Nobelprijs literatuur krijgt.

Onlangs heb ik zijn recentste boek gelezen: Herscht 07769. Het is het verhaal van de Duitse Florian. Hij woont in een klein dorpje en schrijft een brief aan bondskanselier Angela Merkel. Hij heeft uit de avondles fysica begrepen dat er een kans is dat de wereld zal vergaan en wil dat zij daar rekening mee houdt.

Het is machtig hoe László Krasznahorkai in dit boek het superpersoonlijke verhaal van zijn hoofdpersonage samenbrengt met politiek. Want er wonen nazi’s in het dorp, er gebeuren moorden en aanslagen. Mensen zijn bang en onrustig, ze gaan zich opsluiten. En de ontroerende Florian Herscht, onvergetelijk en indringend, een jubelend feest van een hoofdpersonage, begint als hulpje van oppernazi de Boss.

Op de cover van het boek staat een wolf, het dier dat bij de bewoners van het dorp voor meer en meer onrust zorgt, een beeld dat ook onmiskenbaar met de nazi’s verbonden is. Grappig: in het verhaal geeft een organisatie lezingen om iedereen uit te leggen hoe onschuldig en tof de wolf wel niet is, het Welkom Wolf van Duitsland zeg maar, edoch het werkt averechts: de bewoners krijgen door de lezingen nòg meer schrik en uiteindelijk wordt de organisatie vriendelijk de toegang tot het dorp ontzegd.

Zoals alles van László Krasznahorkai is ook Herscht 07769 een opgave om te lezen. Het boek bestaat uit één lange zin die door- en door- en doorgaat, die springt van het ene personage naar het andere, en zelfs bij een nieuw hoofdstuk niet stopt. Je hebt zoiets bij niemand anders ooit gelezen. Herscht 07769 is een verbluffende en meeslepende literaire belevenis, en nog spannend ook. Grote aanrader.


meer leesverslagen: https://wimoosterlinck.wpcomstaging.c...

[Josh · Rating 3 out of 5]

There is something about Krasznahorkai's writing that makes me keep coming back. As I enjoy the experiences with Bernhard and Fosse, the feeling I have when reading Laszlo's work is a bit different. I don't know if I've ever given more than a 3 star rating--I genuinely don't feel amazed at what I'm reading, but feel this need to keep going. It's like he's egging me on to finish what he's started. I hear him saying "I bet you don't know where I'm going with this one!" and he's absolutely correct. I can read the blurb on the back of the book and I never completely know what the hell I'm reading or where the hell I'm going. With 'Herscht 07769', it was all over the place with quantum theory, metaphors, historical references and then turned into a page-turner at times, which is not what I would expect. I was completely immersed for a few pages, while at other times, I was wondering "wtf? what happened to the narrative?". If someone asked, 'What is your favorite Krasznahorkai book?', I would have to honestly say 'None of them'.

Krasznahorkai is in a league of his own, yet that doesn't mean it's a league many want to be in. I, for one, find myself not caring for maybe 70 percent of what I'm reading, but the other 30 percent always makes me curious for more.

I will read another one, at some point and knowing me, I'll probably eventually complete his oeuvre. What compels me? Just ask Laszlo. I'm sure he has some hex on me.

[Bogdan]

Ich kann Krasznahorkai leider nicht in seiner wunderbar barbarischen Sprache genießen, aber ich habe seinen letzten Roman auf Deutsch gelesen, und weil die Handlung in Deutschland spielt, genauer gesagt in einem abgelegenen Kleinstaat, in dem die Neonazis herrschen, und weil die Erzählung, die sich über vierhundert Seiten erstreckt, in einem einzigen Satz geschrieben ist und die sehr langen Sätze ja äußerst charakteristisch für diese besondere Sprache sind, hat mir Herscht 07769 sehr schön und natürlich geklungen und gefallen – so sehr, dass ich immer wieder vergaß, dass ich eine Übersetzung lese.

[Gavin Armour · Rating 5 out of 5]

Man kann sich ja noch so sehr für Literatur interessieren und begeistern – irgendein Autor, der angeblich seit Jahren und Jahrzehnten gefeiert wird als Teil der Weltliteratur geht einem doch immer durch die Lappen. Da liest man eine Rezension in der Zeitung und denkt, och, das klingt interessant, dann besorgt man sich das Buch, fängt an es zu lesen, ist gepackt, beginnt, sich mit dem Autor zu beschäftigen und entdeckt einen Backkatalog, der es in sich hat.

László Krasznahorkai ist so ein Autor, der diesem Rezensenten bisher nicht aufgefallen war. Das wird sich ändern ab nun. Es war eine Besprechung von HERSCHT 07769 (Original erschienen 2021; Dt. 2021), welche die Aufmerksamkeit auf sich zog. Ein Ungar, der einen Blick auf die deutsch-deutschen, vielleicht eher auf die ostdeutschen Verhältnisse wirft. Das ist interessant, allein deshalb, weil es immer guttut, wenn diejenigen, die zu lange im eigenen Saft schmoren, zu viel Selbstbeschau betreiben – ein Vorwurf, den sich die bundesdeutsche Gesellschaft nun einmal gefallen lassen muß, betrachtet man die Regalkilometer an Studien und Analysen zur deutschen Befindlichkeit, 30 Jahre nach der Wiedervereinigung, zur AfD und denen, die sie unterstützen, zum Riss, der durch dieses Land, durch diese Gesellschaft zieht usw. – Input von außen erhalten. Denn der Blick von außen, man könnte sogar sagen: Der fremde Blick, kann einiges geraderücken, entzerren, Blickachsen verrücken und Perspektiven erweitern. All das gelingt Krasznahorkai in seinem Roman.

Der zunächst seltsam anmutende Titel, der im Original derselbe ist, bezieht sich auf die Hauptfigur, Florian Herscht, der in einem Kaff namens Kana in Thüringen lebt. Florian ist ein Tor, ein Einfallspinsel, der die Dinge so nimmt, wie sie ihm begegnen. In einem Heim aufgewachsen, wurde er von einem Mann, der allseits nur als „Boss“ tituliert wird und in eben jenem Kana der wortführende Nazi ist, zwar nicht adoptiert, jedoch unter seine Fittiche genommen und der einen „wahren“ Patrioten aus ihm zu machen gedenkt. Florian hinterfragt dessen Motive nicht, er ist ihm einfach dankbar. So, wie er Frau Ringer, der Bibliothekarin in Kana, dankbar für ihre Freundlichkeit und Zuwendung ist, Arthur Köhler dankbar ist, der eine Wetterstation im Ort betreibt und ansonsten VHS-Kurse zur Physik gibt und maßgeblich dafür verantwortlich ist, daß Florian sich in quantenphysikalische Fragen eindenkt, die ihn dazu bringen, den Zufall des Seins als solchen derart zu fürchten, daß er unter dem Absender „Herscht 07769“ Briefe an die Kanzlerin zu schreiben beginnt, denn die müsse sofort den „Sicherheitsrat“ einberufen, um dringlich etwas gegen die bevorstehende Apokalypse zu unternehmen. Die nämlich trete laut Florian ein, wenn ein einziges Antimaterieteilchen zu viel existiere – was seiner Meinung nach, jeden Moment eintreten könne.

Eine Handlung im engeren Sinn bietet Krasznahorkai seinen Lesern allerdings nicht. Über einen Zeitraum von etwas mehr als zwei Jahren verfolgen wir die Ereignisse in Kana, die sich zuspitzen, als immer mehr Zeichen eines drohenden Untergangs, zumindest einer einschneidenden Veränderung sich mehren. Wolfsrudel tauchen in der Gegend auf und greifen unbescholtene Bürger an, ausgewählte Bach-Gedenkstätten werden mit Wolfs-Graffiti geschändet, welche der Boss – Inhaber einer Reinigungsfirma, bei der auch Florian für kleines Geld arbeitet – mit größter Akribie zu entfernen sucht, ist dieser brutale, gewalttätige und von tiefem Antisemitismus getriebene Mann doch zugleich ein Liebhaber des Barock-Meisters. Eine Liebe, die nach und nach auf Florian übergeht. Im Laufe des Romans häufen sich dann Anschläge und Angriffe, es gibt immer mehr Todesfälle, einige gewaltsam, andere natürlicher Ursache. Und Florian muß schließlich begreifen, mit wem er es da eigentlich zu tun hat. Denn der Boss und seine Handlanger, die sich in einem Haus treffen, das sie Burg 19 nennen, sind offenbar für den Tod zweier Menschen verantwortlich, die Florian viel bedeutet haben. Und spätestens zu diesem Zeitpunkt wird aus dem Tor, aus dieser Figur, die ihre Vorbilder in der deutschen Literatur hat, eine Art atavistischer Racheengel, der eine Rückverwandlung in die reine Kreatur vollzieht und in dieser Erscheinung mindestens so gnadenlos agiert, wie sein früherer Mentor.

Doch ist es Krasznahorkai ganz offensichtlich nicht darum zu tun, hier eine spannende Handlung, gar einen Krimi o.ä. zu erzählen, den Leser auf Spuren zu führen und dann mit neuen Erkenntnissen zu schockieren. Dies ist ein Gesellschaftsroman, wenn man so will, das Portrait eines Dorfes und seiner Bewohner, dessen Stärken – obwohl man der Handlung durchaus gespannt folgt und auch daran interessiert ist, wie sich die Dinge entwickeln, auch wenn einige Spuren ins Leere führen – vor allem in den Zwischentönen liegen. Denn all diese Figuren – neben den bisher genannten kommen noch etliche weitere im Buch vor – sind mit Liebe und Hingabe charakterisiert, sind genau beobachtete und in all ihren Nuancen und Eigenarten erfasste Vertreter einer Gesellschaft (im Kleinen), die den Boden unter den Füßen verliert, deren Gewissheiten abhandenkommen, die sich immer verunsicherter fühlt und nicht mehr weiß, was richtig, was falsch, was rechts, was links, oben und unten ist.

Das ist sprachlich brillant, weil oft in Nebensätzen ganze Sichtweisen umrissen werden. Und man sollte den Begriff „Nebensatz“ hier sehr genau und wörtlich nehmen, denn der gesamte Roman, ausgebreitet auf knapp 409 Seiten, umfasst genau einen Satz. Oh Gott, mag da mancher denken, Experimentalliteratur, nein danke! Doch das wäre fahrlässig, da das alles trotzdem sehr gut zu lesen ist. Man kann über solche literarischen Versuche geteilter Meinung sein, zumal hier die Interpunktionen sehr gut mitzulesen sind und die Form somit durchaus hinterfragt werden kann. Doch ist es der Übersetzerin Heike Flemming gelungen, den Flow dieses einen, sehr, sehr langen Satzes, seinen Rhythmus und den Takt, der ihm zugrunde liegt, perfekt einzufangen und wiederzugeben. Das ist kongeniale Arbeit.

Krasznahorkai bietet das Bild einer Gesellschaft, in der eigentlich niemand mehr – auch Florian Herscht nicht – gut wegkommt. Eine verunsicherte Gesellschaft, die beginnt, Zeichen zu deuten und auszulegen, die etwas bedeuten können – oder eben auch nicht. Wie die Quantentheorien zu Materie und Antimaterie und den Zufall, denen die Teilchen unterliegen, zumindest soweit Florian dies versteht, scheint auch diese Gesellschaft losgelöst von sich selbst zu flottieren. Dabei wird hier nichts entschuldigt oder gar relativiert. Der Boss und seine Handlanger sind üble Burschen. Nur sind sie eben keine Abziehbilder, keine Stereotypen, denen der Autor eine traurige Backgroundgeschichte anklebt, wie es bspw. Juli Zeh in ihrem letzten Roman ÜBER MENSCHEN (2021) getan hat, wo sie ebenfalls einen Nazi auftreten lässt und irgendwie sich bemüht, Sympathien für diesen Mann zu empfinden und dem Leser zu vermitteln. Krasznahorkai hat keine Sympathien für diesen Nazi mit seiner Bach-Liebe. Eher schon zeichnet er eine böse Karikatur jener Männer, die einst KZ betrieben und abends Hausmusik machten, gebildete Menschen, die sich der Barbarei hingaben. Aber Krasznahorkai hat eine große Sympathie für Bach und dessen Musik und es gelingt ihm, diese zwar nicht zu beschreiben (was er auch gar nicht erst versucht), aber sehr wohl, ihre Wirkung spürbar zu machen. Denn die erfasst auch Florian, dessen zusehende Verwahrlosung nur in diesem zutiefst zivilisatorischen Akt konterkariert wird.

Kana – der biblische Bezug ist da, wird vom Autor aber nicht übermäßig strapaziert – wird so zum Abbild eines Deutschlands im mittlerweile schon fortgeschrittenen 21. Jahrhundert, diesem Koloss in der Mitte Europas, der, ob er will oder nicht, immer eine Bezugsgröße für die ihn umgebenden Länder ist und bleiben wird. Doch da sind zu viele, die sich mit den Entwicklungen einfach abfinden, die die Augen und ihre Türen verschließen, die nicht sehen wollen, was allzu augenfällig wird und das Tun, die Tat, die gerade von rechts so gern propagiert wird, denen überlassen, die in ihrem Tun dann maßlos werden. Das gilt für den Boss und seine Leute ebenso, wie es für Florian gilt, der in seinem Rachebedürfnis weder Freund noch Feind kennt und in reinem Furor um sich schlägt.

Es ist erstaunlich, wie genau Krasznahorkai die Bedingungen in Deutschland kennt. Die mangelnde organisatorische und institutionelle Versorgung auf dem Land, die Parteienlandschaft, die Billigläden und den Blick jener, die nach der Wiedervereinigung erst begeistert und dann immer enttäuschter waren. Es gelingt ihm nahezu perfekt, den Geist dieser Menschen einzufangen. In den Besprechungen zu seinen früheren Büchern wird immer wieder darauf verwiesen, daß er ein Apokalyptiker sei und ein wenig ist davon auch hier zu spüren, auch wenn die Hinweise – Anschläge in Erfurt und Jena bspw. – wie ein Hintergrundrauschen zwar erwähnt, jedoch nie näher erläutert werden. Es trägt maßgeblich zur Atmosphäre dieses Romans bei und sorgt dafür, daß die Unsicherheit, die Verunsicherung, auf jeder Seite zu spüren ist.

HERSCHT 07769 ist wahrlich ein brillanter und zutiefst verstörender Roman, der genau jenen Außenblick – mal als Farce getarnt und mit sarkastischem Witz dargeboten, mal tieftraurig und emotional wirklich zehrend – bietet, von dem weiter oben die Rede war. Ein Buch, das unbedingt gelesen werden sollte von denen, die den vermeintlichen „Riss“, der dieses Land und seine Gesellschaft durchzieht, besser verstehen wollen und zugleich daran interessiert sind, das, was da vor sich geht, zu reflektieren und, ja, auch das, zu verarbeiten.

[mela✨ · Rating 4 out of 5]

Update:
è arrivato il Nobel 🙂‍↕️

*4.5

Non ho tanto da dire su questo romanzo, semplicemente date un Nobel a quest'uomo.
Un autore che semplicemente crea ARTE, riuscendo a coniugare una prosa straordinaria al racconto profondo ed intenso dell'umanità in tutte le sue sfaccettature, anche quelle più terribili.
Questo romanzo è un ritratto lucido e terrificante per certi aspetti della nostra contemporaneità e della direzione verso cui ci stiamo muovendo.
Lo metto un gradino sotto Guerra e Guerra e Satantango, ma è un romanzo stupendo, anche se mi ha lasciato una grande sensazione di tristezza...

[Aaron Anstett · Rating 5 out of 5]

This powerful, fascinatingly unspooling single-sentence novel about physics, Bach, Nazis, the pandemic, and wolves I both wanted to not end and at times longed to be done with; I may just read through it again sooner rather than later, timely as it remains.

[Rachel · Rating 4 out of 5]

You know by now, of course, that Krasznahorkai’s latest unwinds in a dizzying, seemingly never ending single sentence that through excessive use of commas and semicolons sometimes smoothly and sometimes less convincingly makes leaps and jumps from mind to mind of the residents of Kana, a fictional town in East Germany that has become a hotbed of sorts for neo-Nazi activity, namely at the hands of a specific group of derelicts that pine for the good old Germany of years past, that strategize and work towards the creation of a Fourth Reich, but moreover it’s the character of Florian that this story, if you’d call this tale of impending apocalypse a story, centers around as this Florian character, viewed by neighbors and townspeople as a gentle giant type, a simpleminded man, a village idiot, take your pick of terms, becomes a quasi-henchman—though he would never see it like this—to the Boss, the leader of the local neo-Nazi clan, #1 Bach enthusiast, and a really sorry excuse of a human if you asked any of the townspeople their opinion, their opinion, of course, is that Florian should cut all ties with this Boss, inasmuch as he is able, given that his apartment and job and weekly allowance come from this Boss, but Florian has other matters to worry about because, given the defects in his faculties, he has misunderstand a critical point in his adult education physics classes and thus believes that an event with a result opposite in nature to the Big Bang, namely an apocalypse in which Nothing will come from Something, can and will occur any day now, and it’s his responsibility to inform Chancellor Angela Merkel so that plans may be put in place, and plans are being put in place by the neo-Nazis that will have dire consequences for all, because Florian may be right after all, moreover the apocalypse is here, and it’s not because of an error in the wonderful world of elementary particles, namely an excess in antimatter, but because we, humans, are the apocalypse, we are the looming danger, we bring this upon ourselves with our hate and our half-truths and our misinformation, and this world we find ourselves in, with its wolves and lambs, is one entirely of our own making.

[Tasos · Rating 5 out of 5]

Όταν αγόρασα πριν από χρόνια το Πόλεμος και πόλεμος λόγω του τίτλου και του περίεργου ονόματος του συγγραφέα, δεν ήξερα ότι ο Λάζλο Κρασναχορκάι θα άλλαζε τον τρόπο που διαβάζω λογοτεχνία και το τι μπορώ να (μην) περιμένω κάθε φορά από αυτή, καθώς και ότι κάθε βιβλίο του θα είναι μια αποκάλυψη και ένας χείμαρρος, στον οποίο “την τελεία βάζει μόνο ο Θεός” (κατά τα λόγια του ίδιου), όμως το νέο του μυθιστόρημα και αφού έχω πλέον διαβάσει ό,τι δικό του έχει κυκλοφορήσει στα ελληνικά το περίμενα γνωρίζοντας κατά βάθος ότι θα αναγνωστεί απνευστί, από την προμετωπίδα κιόλας, μία από τις πιο συγκλονιστικές ενάρξεις μυθιστορήματος των τελευταίων χρόνων, ίσως και ποτέ, “Η ελπίδα αποτελεί σφάλμα”, με την οποία οι ελπίδες μου άρχισαν (ειρωνικά, το ξέρω) να δικαιώνονται και δεν διαψεύστηκαν ούτε μια στιγμή στις επόμενες 419 σελίδες, οι οποίες αποτελούν (φυσικά) μία πρόταση, χωρίς καμία τελεία μέχρι το τέλος, αφού ο Ούγγρος συγγραφέας σε βυθίζει στην αρχή σιγά- σιγά και μετά σαρωτικά στη μεταμόρφωση του Φλόριαν Χερστ, από αφελή και καλοκάγαθο γίγαντα, ένα παιδί για όλες τις δουλειές στην (επινοημένη) πολίχνη Κάνα της Θουριγγίας, το οποίο στέλνει απελπισμένα γράμματα στην Άνγκελα Μέρκελ, σε εκδικητή και τιμωρό εκτός νόμου όλων εκείνων που εκκόλαψαν ξανά το αυγό του φιδιού στην περιοχή του, ενώ ταυτόχρονα περιγράφει με τον δικό του συγκλονιστικά ειρωνικό και μελαγχολικό τρόπο την εντροπική παράδοση μιας ολόκληρης κοινότητας στην παράνοια και στο φόβο μέσα από τις επιμέρους ιστορίες μιας χούφτας κατοίκων, οι οποίοι ζουν τα δικά τους μικρά ή μεγάλα αδιέξοδα σε μια παρηκμασμένη πρώην Ανατολική Γερμανία, με κλειστά εργοστάσια και μετανάστες που την έχουν εγκαταλείψει από καιρό, στην περιοχή που καμαρώνει πως είναι γενέτειρα του Μπαχ, αλλά κι αυτό γίνεται ένα από τα κίβδηλα σύμβολα της αλλοτινής “γερμανικής” δόξας και αντικείμενο σφετερισμού από την ομάδα των νεοναζί για τη δική της διαβρωτική ρητορική του μίσους, η οποία δηλητηριάζει ακόμα και τις πιο αθώες ψυχές, όπως αυτή του Φλόριαν, και τις οδηγεί στη βία, σε μία κορύφωση ανάλογη με εκείνες στα έργα του Γερμανού μουσικοσυνθέτη, από τον οποίο ο Κρασναχορκάι εμπνέεται για να δομήσει κι αυτός με τη σειρά του το βιβλίο του ως μια μεγαλειώδη συμφωνία, με κάθε χαρακτήρα να αποτελεί ένα ξεχωριστό μουσικό όργανο και τα μοτίβα να διαπλέκονται μέχρι να ενωθούν όλα μαζί και με μια ουράνια αρμονία στο τόσο πικρό φινάλε, από εκείνα που τελειώνεις την ανάγνωση και απορείς για ακόμα μία φορά γιατί δεν έχει πάρει ο Κρασναχορκάι το Νόμπελ, αλλά κι αυτό στο τέλος δεν έχει σημασία, πιο πολύ θα τιμούσε ο θεσμός τον εαυτό του με τη βράβευση, παρά τον ίδιο τον συγγραφέα, πάντως να το ξέρεις, Σουηδική Ακαδημία, αν με διαβάζεις, ότι ΟΣΟ ΜΑΣ ΠΛΗΓΩΝΕΙΣ, ΤΟΣΟ ΜΑΣ ΠΟΡΩΝΕΙΣ.

[Liviana · Rating 5 out of 5]

Primo approccio con questo autore, genio letterario contemporaneo. Durante la lettura mi sono ritrovata spesso a chiedermi "ma come fa??". Io davvero non so come Krasznahorkai abbia fatto a scrivere questa storia in un unico flusso di 500 pagine senza punti tenendo sempre il ritmo, senza abbassare mai il livello altissimo, senza perdersi e far perdere il lettore, senza annoiare, senza ridurre tutto ad un esercizio di stile. Affascinata e strabiliata. Recupero tutte le sue opere.

[Evangelos Makrakis · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ενας συγγραφικός άθλος, από κάθε άποψη… τεχνικής, μηνυμάτων, συμβολισμών, πρωτοτυπίας…
Σπάνια γράφονται τέτοια βιβλία…

[Andrew Merritt · Rating 5 out of 5]

Another incredible project from Krasznahorkai. My only critique is that it is not the 512 pages NDP and goodreads list is as. I could have easily read another 100 pages of this bleakly beautiful novel.

[Marcel Buijs · Rating 4 out of 5]

Een zin van 396 bladzijdes over misverstanden in Oost-Duitsland aangaande kwantumfysica, wolven, nazi’s, J.S. Bach en meer.

Het dreunt maar door in een verslavend ritme, het is als luisteren naar Meshuggah: de apocalyps is hier.

Er is geen respijt van het verval, het verhaal is een strakke knoop van domheid, wanhoop, geweld en ellende. En toch zit het vol schoonheid en humor.

Florian trekt als sidekick nog een heldhaftige adelaar aan. Episch.

Mooi interview met die malle Krasznahorkai:
https://youtu.be/EF3Zu4_yd60?si=YX8wX...

[Michael Kuehn · Rating 3 out of 5]

Another reviewer likened reading this book to walking into a room with certain intent, then forgetting why you did. Is it worth it? I suppose, if you're a fan of Krasznahorkai's previous work as I am. But it's far from my favorite.

[MimbleWimble___ Elli Maria Moutsopoulou · Rating 5 out of 5]

https://www.pastafloramag.gr/vivlio/k...
Διαβάστε το άρθρο μου τα λέω μούρλια 🤡

[Γράφει πλούσια. Χορταστικά. Εθιστικά. Για τα πιο σκοτεινά μας σημεία. Για την απανθρωπιά μας πασπαλισμένη με μπόλικα σκατά. Με όχημα τις λέξεις και την ιδιοφυέστατη ρυθμική του πρόζα παλεύει να συνεφέρει όσα άτομα βρίσκονται υπνωτισμένα. Ενώ παράλληλα όσα είναι ήδη ξύπνια τα σπρώχνει και τα δυναμώνει μέσα από τα νοήματά του.]

[Adam Ferris · Rating 4 out of 5]

"People do not fear what they should fear, instead they fear what they shouldn't fear"

Florian has stumbled upon what he thinks is a quantum anomaly in his evening classes with Herr Köhler and takes this as a sign that the universe is in great danger. So much so that he must write a letter (or many letters) to Chancellor Merkel to have him warn the UN Security Council that impending doom awaits not only the world and in turn, the people of a small town in Eastern Germany called Kana. Florian and a wide cast of characters in the small rural town, encounter wolves, graffiti plastered Bachian landmarks, a simmering group of local Nazis and some eerily and haunting disappearances. From here on in, with classic Krasznahorkai rhythm and storytelling, Herscht 07769 has all the makings of another favourite from the Hungarian master.

"There are things of which we are not capable, and that is natural and yet for us to understand why there is no essence of the perfect, this is why we must say that the perfect merely exists, but if it lacks essence then only wonder remains to us."

What I loved about Herscht 07769, and all of the Krasznahorkai books that I've read (Satantango and The World Goes On), is that I find myself fully immersed in his claustrophopic writing that enraptures all my reading senses. Yes his work is dense, and this one is written in one long swirling sentence, and yes you may fall for thinking that there is all sorts of cryptic symbolism and allegory to his tales, and there may in fact be those things buried within. Sometimes as readers we get too caught up in trying to intellectualize and understand all of the themes that an author like Krasznahorkai writes about. And that can be a good thing, except for when it takes away the attention from the mesmerizing storytelling and characters that are his strength.

"What the f*ck should we care about what's going on in the wider world when we have to take care of what's destroying us from within?"

I could go on and attempt to write something really intelligent here, and maybe I can't and maybe I can. The point is that I am not. Yes this book is extremely intriguing on a thematic level, but most of all this book is a masterclass in how to weave and create a memorable story that I made a conscious decision not to rush reading because I could tell that I wanted to savour every bit of goodness (and bleakness) that covered these pages. Herscht 07769 is another hit and near the top of my favourite reads of the year.

"How can there exist so much coincidence?"

"He didn't care anymore, whatever was behind him was of no interest now, as it no longer existed, whereas whatever was before him had yet to exist, he strove only for complete emptiness; he could not be stopped, because it was not possible to stand before him, he could not be impeded, because he moved as if he were invisible."

"He would never again be the same as he was before, because he never could have thought that the world, under the danger of a redoubtable fact, would be laid open to a destruction that could occur at any moment, and not only destruction; already, the beginning of the beginning horrified him, and he said: if, in fact, everything teeters on this knife-edge of destruction, then it must have been this way when we came into being as well, and therefore I can no longer be happy, Herr Köhler, when I look up at the sky, because I am fully seized by dread, I sense how unprotected, so unprotected the entire universe is, and because his mentor was seriously alarmed at how Florian always broke down in tears at this point, he tried to console him: look here, my son, it's all just physics, science; and science isn't finding the answer to these questions right now, that is certain, not yet, my son, not yet, for the time being, and it has ever been thus, science is always posing questions for which it has no answers, and yet: despite all the difficulties, the answer will come to pass, and the answer to this seemingly unsolvable question will come to pass as well, you can be sure of that."

[Günter · Rating 2 out of 5]

Okay, toll, alles in einem Satz geschrieben, eh kein schlechter Lesefluss.
Aber ich habe nichts Neues erfahren, nicht ein interessanter Gedanke.
Am Ende war's zumindest noch spannend, eben ein Tatort-Roman.
Ich muss wieder mehr Zeit in die Recherche meiner Lektüre investieren, Nobelpreisträgerschaft ist kein hinreichendes Kriterium.

[remarkably · Rating 5 out of 5]

certainly the most accessible krasznahorkai and maybe also my personal favourite, in how it frees itself from the prison of the single consciousness / point of view. marvellous revelatory polyphonic effect

[John Caleb Grenn]

First half: 😍😍😍🤪🤪🤪🤯🤯🤯
Last half: 🤔🤷🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️👍

[Leselissi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Vor dem Nobelpreis kannte ich Krasznahorkai noch gar nicht, und war bei diesem Buch nun gespannt, was auf mich zukäme.
Ich wusste nur: das ist der Roman, der aus bloß einem einzigen Satz besteht - auf 400 Seiten!
Meine anfängliche Skepsis hat sich dann aber in zunehmende Begeisterung verwandelt.
Der Text lässt sich viel besser lesen als gedacht, man wird regelrecht hineingesogen, und bekommt nicht nur Spannung, sondern auch Humor geliefert.

Ich kann nur empfehlen: Wer sich furchtlos auf diesen einen Satz einlässt, wird mit einem Meisterwerk der Literatur belohnt!
(und was die Musik von Johann Sebastian Bach mit dem Fortbestand des Universums zu tun hat, werdet ihr dann auch noch erfahren... )

[Bagus · Rating 3 out of 5]

You know that feeling when you walk into a room and forget why you’re there, and suddenly you’re questioning your entire existence? That’s what reading Herscht 07769 by László Krasznahorkai feels like, except instead of a room, it’s the whole universe, and instead of forgetting your keys, you’re Florian Herscht: obsessive, socially awkward and 100% convinced Bundeskanzlerin Angela Merkel holds the key to saving humanity.

The book opens in Kana, a small town in Thuringia, with Florian sending countless letters to Merkel, begging her to stop the collapse of the universe and asking her to table the issue at the UN Security Council. Yes, really. Florian’s logic might be questionable, but his dedication is admirable. The only time Germany was elected as a non-permanent member of the UN Security Council was in 2011-2012, and knowing the UN system, it would have very limited power to table a topic for discussion compared to the five permanent members. Florian listens to Bach, takes long walks, and basically vibes his way through existential dread while his neighbours in Kana try to figure out why their town keeps attracting eccentrics like him.

For the first third of the book, not much happens, unless you count Florian’s increasingly bizarre musings and Frau Hopf’s aggressive nosiness. It’s the kind of slow burn where you’re not sure if you’re reading a novel or accidentally eavesdropping on a very philosophical argument at a café. I was equal parts amused and confused. Under normal circumstances, I would have DNF-ed it (then, I remember that I was doing a buddy-read with someone and picked up the book again every now and then).

Then things escalate. Florian somehow stumbles into a neo-Nazi group, and the book’s quirky humour takes a darker, more unsettling turn. Krasznahorkai has this sneaky way of making you laugh one moment and cringe the next. For example, when Florian starts guerrilla training but still finds time to ponder the meaning of life, or when he suggests blasting Bach to save the universe (honestly, I’d support that plan).

The brilliance of Herscht 07769 isn’t in its plot. It’s in how it captures the chaos, both in Florian’s mind and in the world around him. The use of a single sentence is a deliberate decision to support that premise. The universe, indeed, doesn't make sense and our existence is an absurd miscalculation. It’s funny, but in that way where you’re laughing while also quietly panicking because, deep down, you know Krasznahorkai’s chaos mirrors real life a little too well.

The universe doesn’t implode, but neither does it heal. Florian’s story ends with a quiet whimper rather than a bang, leaving you with more questions than answers, which feels exactly right for a book this absurd.

Would I recommend it? Sure, but only if you’re okay with spending weeks (or in my case, 1.5 months) in the mind of someone who’s half-genius, half-trainwreck. It’s not an easy read, but it’s worth it if you like books that challenge you, frustrate you and occasionally make you snort-laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

And thanks to my buddy-read friend Joy who recommended us doing this buddy read. A good book to close the year, I guess.

[Bobparr · Rating 5 out of 5]

Strepitoso, questo lunghissimo piano-sequenza di quasi 500 pagine. Credo non ci sia un registro narrativo che non sia emerso - anche se solo per poche frasi - in questo geniale romanzo bachiano di epoca pandemica, che non è necessariamente un dettaglio a ben pensare.

La speranza è un errore, si legge nell'esergo.

Viene quasi da pensare che K. lo voglia illustrare e dimostrare, nelle pagine che andrà a far seguire e lo fa spesso con la levità del naturale scorrere delle cose, cosi' come Bach fa seguire una nota all'altra nel naturale svolgersi dell'armonia - rimando al min 32 di Tàr, 2022, T.Field per un minuto bellissimo su questo argomento - e se ci si pensa da *fuori* quali e quante assonanze tra il procedere di K. e quello dei pentagrammi infiniti del Clavicembalo ben Temperato, che per lievi scivolamenti fanno accadere il Mondo.

Intrigante poi la modalità con la quale K. parla per lunghissimo tempo di (quello che per molti è) quasi nulla e (quelli che per molti sono) i drammi li liquida in una riga, come se proprio *questo* fosse l'ordine naturale delle cose.

[Milena Iacovangelo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Questo libro è molto impegnativo, sia sul fronte della scrittura che sul fronte emotivo. È un libro destinato a rimanere dentro il lettore e a lasciare il segno, non tanto mentre lo si legge quanto dopo averlo chiuso. Per quanto riguarda la prosa è senz'altro spiazzante, ci si ritrova di fronte a muri di parole senza punti. Il ritmo è imposto non puoi seguire i tuoi tempi di lettura devi andare dove ti porta e stop. I cambi di scena sono piano_sequenze come in un film in cui non sono mai preannunciati. Questo però è anche un libro di trama e di temi forti. Un libro allegorico ma estremamente realistico e privo di retorica, con una lucidità sul presente che mi ha lasciata senza speranze.