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Am Hang
Am Hang zu leben, kann riskant sein. Wie leicht können Dinge ins Rutschen geraten. Diese Erfahrung muss der Scheidungsanwalt Clarin machen, dessen Arbeitswochenende in seinem Tessiner Ferienhaus einen etwas anderen Verlauf nimmt. Ein abendlicher Trunk, ein harmloses Gespräch, mehr hatte dem leutseligen Clarin nicht vorgeschwebt, als er sich dem Fremden auf der Terrasse des Bellavista-Hotels vorstellte. Doch sollte sich bald herausstellen, dass Loos nicht der Partner für den erwartet netten Plausch war. Clarin dämmerte - diesen innerlich Zerrissenen würde er so schnell nicht mehr loswerden!
Die Schlinge zieht sich zu. Zusehends redet sich der kultivierte, schwerblütige Loos in Rage, philosophiert hemmungslos und trunken über den erbarmungswürdigen Zustand einer lärmenden und oberflächlichen Welt, die ihm verhasst geworden ist. Vor einem Jahr war im Kurhotel in Cademario drüben am Hang seine über alles geliebte Frau von ihm gegangen. War es Selbstmord? Ein Restleben als Endlosschleife der Verzweiflung. Clarin beginnt, aufzuhorchen. Cademario war auch ihm kein fremder Ort. Schicksalsspuren überschneiden sich. Clarin beginnt zu frösteln.
Mehr und mehr zieht es Clarin in den persönlichen Albtraum eines Beschädigten. Rätsel über Rätsel über den Verlust einer Frau werden aufgetürmt. Die kammerspielhafte Enge des Schweizer Talkessels, die immer fiebriger werdenden Zwiegespräche auf der Hotelterrasse, ziehen auch den Leser allmählich in ihren Sog. Vergessen wir das bisweilen unsägliche Dauerlamento des mürrischen Loos, dessen küchenpsychologische Alltagsbetrachtungen sich über die Verrohung des Menschen bis hin zu Hasstiraden auf Handytöne erstrecken - Markus Werner gelingt es dennoch meisterlich, den unheimlichen Spannungsbogen seines Psychodramas aufrecht zu erhalten.
Am Ende des Vexierspiels um eine große verlorene Liebe wird auch die Welt des erotischen Leichtfußes Clarin schwer geworden sein. In bestürzender Weise muss er erfahren, wie alles mit allem zusammenhängt. Wie klein die Welt doch war. Eine Zufallsbekanntschaft brachte den Hang endgültig ins Rutschen! -Ravi Unger
189 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2004
49 people are currently reading
791 people want to read
About the author
Markus Werner
19 books47 followersMarkus Werner (December 27, 1944 in Eschlikon, canton of Thurgau) was a German-speaking Swiss writer, the author of Zündels Abgang (Zündel’s Departure).
Life
Markus Werner was born in Eschlikon (canton of Thurgau). In 1948 the family moved to Thayngen (canton of Schaffhausen) where Werner finished school and passed the general qualification for university entrance in 1965. At the University of Zürich he studied German, Philosophy, and Psychology. In 1974 he completed a doctorate on Max Frisch, whose writing has an important influence on Werner. From 1975 to 1985, he worked as a main teacher, and from 1985 to 1990 as an assistant professor at the Kantonsschule (= preparatory high school) in Schaffhausen. He has dedicated himself exclusively to writing since 1990. Werner died on 3rd July 2016 in Schaffhausen.
Performances
The protagonists of Werner’s novels, have quit their jobs. Out of their eyes' view, Werner laconically describes everyday life astonished, with distress and with humour. The results are a lot of strictly calculated scenes and episodes, in which the course of the world appears in too sharp and sometimes laughable details, that Werner’s protagonists cannot deal with. Just this seemingly harmless everyday perfidies let them break down: the deaf ears of their fellow men, their cold, headstrong souls. Human deficiencies are described in a tragicomical way. Werner sees the self-evident as something strange, is astonished and wonders like a child. His protagonists want the right to make mistakes and have deficiencies (“self-assuredness is the sign of the yokel”, in: Die kalte Schulter, a Chinese saying). They crave for love, but at the same time curse the world, their fellow men and themselves.
Awards
1984 Prize of the Jürgen Ponto-foundation
1984 and 1993 singular work prize of the Swiss Schiller foundation
1986 Georg-Fischer-Prize of the city Schaffhausen
1990 Alemannic Literaturpreis
1993 Thomas Valentin-Literature price
1995 Prix littéraire Lipp; International Bodensee-Literature price
1997 Prize of the SWR-best-of-list
1999 Hermann Hesse-price
2000 Joseph Breitbach-price (jointly with Ilse Aichinger and W.G.Sebald)
2002 Johann Peter Hebel-price of Baden-Württemberg
2005 complete work prize of the Swiss Schiller foundation
2006 Bodensee-Literature prize of the city Überlingen
Works
Bilder des Endgültigen, Entwürfe des Möglichen. Zum Werk Max Frischs, Univ. Diss. 1974 (literally: “Pictures of the definitive. Drafts of the possible. About Max Frisch’s work”)
Zündels Abgang, novel, 1984, ISBN 3-7017-1385-5 (Zündel’s Departure)
Froschnacht, novel, 1985, ISBN 3-7017-0424-4, ISBN 3-423-11250-6 (literally: „Frog night“)
Die kalte Schulter, novel, 1989, ISBN 3-423-11672-2 (literally: „The cold shoulder“)
Bis bald, novel, 1992, ISBN 3-7017-0758-8, ISBN 3-423-12112-2 (2005/2006 in the book series Schweizer Bibliothek) (literally: „Good bye“)
Festland, novel, 1996, ISBN 3-7017-0969-6, ISBN 3-423-12529-2 (literally: „Mainland“)
Der ägyptische Heinrich, novel, 1999, ISBN 3-7017-1174-7, ISBN 3-423-12901-8 (literally: „The Egyptian Heinrich“)
Am Hang, novel, 2004, ISBN 3-10-091066-4 (literally: „Near the cliff“)
Life
Markus Werner was born in Eschlikon (canton of Thurgau). In 1948 the family moved to Thayngen (canton of Schaffhausen) where Werner finished school and passed the general qualification for university entrance in 1965. At the University of Zürich he studied German, Philosophy, and Psychology. In 1974 he completed a doctorate on Max Frisch, whose writing has an important influence on Werner. From 1975 to 1985, he worked as a main teacher, and from 1985 to 1990 as an assistant professor at the Kantonsschule (= preparatory high school) in Schaffhausen. He has dedicated himself exclusively to writing since 1990. Werner died on 3rd July 2016 in Schaffhausen.
Performances
The protagonists of Werner’s novels, have quit their jobs. Out of their eyes' view, Werner laconically describes everyday life astonished, with distress and with humour. The results are a lot of strictly calculated scenes and episodes, in which the course of the world appears in too sharp and sometimes laughable details, that Werner’s protagonists cannot deal with. Just this seemingly harmless everyday perfidies let them break down: the deaf ears of their fellow men, their cold, headstrong souls. Human deficiencies are described in a tragicomical way. Werner sees the self-evident as something strange, is astonished and wonders like a child. His protagonists want the right to make mistakes and have deficiencies (“self-assuredness is the sign of the yokel”, in: Die kalte Schulter, a Chinese saying). They crave for love, but at the same time curse the world, their fellow men and themselves.
Awards
1984 Prize of the Jürgen Ponto-foundation
1984 and 1993 singular work prize of the Swiss Schiller foundation
1986 Georg-Fischer-Prize of the city Schaffhausen
1990 Alemannic Literaturpreis
1993 Thomas Valentin-Literature price
1995 Prix littéraire Lipp; International Bodensee-Literature price
1997 Prize of the SWR-best-of-list
1999 Hermann Hesse-price
2000 Joseph Breitbach-price (jointly with Ilse Aichinger and W.G.Sebald)
2002 Johann Peter Hebel-price of Baden-Württemberg
2005 complete work prize of the Swiss Schiller foundation
2006 Bodensee-Literature prize of the city Überlingen
Works
Bilder des Endgültigen, Entwürfe des Möglichen. Zum Werk Max Frischs, Univ. Diss. 1974 (literally: “Pictures of the definitive. Drafts of the possible. About Max Frisch’s work”)
Zündels Abgang, novel, 1984, ISBN 3-7017-1385-5 (Zündel’s Departure)
Froschnacht, novel, 1985, ISBN 3-7017-0424-4, ISBN 3-423-11250-6 (literally: „Frog night“)
Die kalte Schulter, novel, 1989, ISBN 3-423-11672-2 (literally: „The cold shoulder“)
Bis bald, novel, 1992, ISBN 3-7017-0758-8, ISBN 3-423-12112-2 (2005/2006 in the book series Schweizer Bibliothek) (literally: „Good bye“)
Festland, novel, 1996, ISBN 3-7017-0969-6, ISBN 3-423-12529-2 (literally: „Mainland“)
Der ägyptische Heinrich, novel, 1999, ISBN 3-7017-1174-7, ISBN 3-423-12901-8 (literally: „The Egyptian Heinrich“)
Am Hang, novel, 2004, ISBN 3-10-091066-4 (literally: „Near the cliff“)
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 82 reviews
July 16, 2020
" كل شيء يسير إلى منتهاه, أما هو فكان منتهاي"
أول جملة في الرواية مثيرة للاهتمام, تتساءل بعد قراءتها عن معناها وخاصةً ان قائلها رجل
لقاء بالصدفة بين رجلين على مائدة أحد المطاعم, في البداية يدور حوار بسيط عن الحياة والعمل
ثم يتحول بالتدريج إلى حديث طويل يكشف فيه كل منهما عن حياته وجزء من ماضيه
كل واحد فيهم مختلف عن الآخر, المحامي المُحب للتغيير عموما في الحياة والحب
وعالم اللغة الرافض لكل ما في الحياة من سطحية وابتذال, والذي يعتبر الحب والزواج وطن بالنسبة له
مع تسارع الحكي والإثارة, والاقتراب من النهاية نصل إلى حافة المنحدر الذي يقف عليه الرجلان
حوار مميز وأسلوب جميل في التعبير عن الفكر والنظرة المختلفة للحياة والعلاقات الانسانية
أول قراءة للكاتب السويسري ماركوس فيرنر
أول جملة في الرواية مثيرة للاهتمام, تتساءل بعد قراءتها عن معناها وخاصةً ان قائلها رجل
لقاء بالصدفة بين رجلين على مائدة أحد المطاعم, في البداية يدور حوار بسيط عن الحياة والعمل
ثم يتحول بالتدريج إلى حديث طويل يكشف فيه كل منهما عن حياته وجزء من ماضيه
كل واحد فيهم مختلف عن الآخر, المحامي المُحب للتغيير عموما في الحياة والحب
وعالم اللغة الرافض لكل ما في الحياة من سطحية وابتذال, والذي يعتبر الحب والزواج وطن بالنسبة له
مع تسارع الحكي والإثارة, والاقتراب من النهاية نصل إلى حافة المنحدر الذي يقف عليه الرجلان
حوار مميز وأسلوب جميل في التعبير عن الفكر والنظرة المختلفة للحياة والعلاقات الانسانية
أول قراءة للكاتب السويسري ماركوس فيرنر
June 13, 2018
Modern Swiss literature often seems to revolve around business flights, five-star hotels, misdemeanours among C-suite executives and what – to summarise crudely – you might dismiss as first-world problems. In the best cases (something like Max Frisch's Homo Faber), we see how fragile this lifestyle really is, but in other cases one is uncomfortably aware of a sort of haze of affluence that somehow keeps Swiss lit out of the first rank (although there's no intrinsic reason why it should).
There is nothing wrong with this book, but it did have me thinking about these things. Taking place within the space of a single weekend, on the terrace of a luxury hotel in the Ticino, it takes the form of an intense interpersonal thriller, in which everyone has their secrets and the drama emerges from conversational manoeuvres and unspoken assumptions. Two men who appear to meet by chance; a discussion that appears to flow at random; suspicions and wild surmises that build to a crescendo. It has a nice mood and a good line in cynical philosophising, although the big twist at the end was something I guessed halfway through, and I am usually pretty dense about such things.
There is nothing wrong with this book, but it did have me thinking about these things. Taking place within the space of a single weekend, on the terrace of a luxury hotel in the Ticino, it takes the form of an intense interpersonal thriller, in which everyone has their secrets and the drama emerges from conversational manoeuvres and unspoken assumptions. Two men who appear to meet by chance; a discussion that appears to flow at random; suspicions and wild surmises that build to a crescendo. It has a nice mood and a good line in cynical philosophising, although the big twist at the end was something I guessed halfway through, and I am usually pretty dense about such things.
March 11, 2014
Mind games
What a joy, when the visitors have all left, to be able to ensconce yourself on the sofa with a good book and no interruptions and read straight through in one take. Thanks for making the dinner luv.
Markus Werner's PhD dissertation was on Max Frisch. No surprise then, that this tale wheels around the vexatious question of who to trust, who to believe, who is leading us a merry dance and, more vexatious still, to what purpose?
Clarin, a young lawyer, has retreated to his shared holiday home in Tessin over Whitsun to write up a piece for a legal publication on the history of divorce law in the different Cantons of Switzerland. On his first evening he goes down to Montagnola for dinner at the Belle Vue and meets there on the terrace an older gentleman, a curmudgeonly type who is still working through the tragic loss of his wife. Clarin likes to see himself as a bit of a rake, cynical about the chances of any marriage lasting longer than it takes for the bridal bouquet to wilt. They lock horns over the state of the world and modern life, over communications and capitalism, over loyalty, harmony, forgiveness and Windows 2000. They meet again the next evening. Now their conversations turn to the anecdotal. To women. And sex. And death.
Two men, talking. Sounds dire, especially as they never even get on to football.
But the text is as intoxicating as the Merlot bianco the men consume in no small quantity. There is an ease and breadth in their talk, as wide and open as the vista of the Collina D'Oro and Lake Lugano that surrounds them. Velvety and rich like wine, clean and bracing like the landscape. They are good company. Ironically combative, courteous and expansive. Until the next night, when Clarin's hangover has made for a lost day of work and accompanying dissatisfaction and resentment at the older man's invasion of his time. But unable to resist all the same. There is something uncanny about the man. He can read Clarin like an open book. And knows precisely how to tease out what he wants to know.
Maybe because Dr. Faustus haunts my dreams at the moment, I see devilish characters wherever I turn. However this is a reversal of the Faustian myth, even if the conversations remind me of the meeting between Leverkühn and Lucifer, the deal is quite a different one. Here the devil has not conferred anything. On the contrary, he has been robbed. He is not offering knowledge or talent in exchange for Clarin's soul. He is taking revenge. This is not Faust, this is the second circle of hell, where those who lust will be tossed back and forth by winds forever. A true circle, the end takes us to the beginning again. Clarin will not escape from this torture. It will go on, and on. And on.
What a joy, when the visitors have all left, to be able to ensconce yourself on the sofa with a good book and no interruptions and read straight through in one take. Thanks for making the dinner luv.
Markus Werner's PhD dissertation was on Max Frisch. No surprise then, that this tale wheels around the vexatious question of who to trust, who to believe, who is leading us a merry dance and, more vexatious still, to what purpose?
Clarin, a young lawyer, has retreated to his shared holiday home in Tessin over Whitsun to write up a piece for a legal publication on the history of divorce law in the different Cantons of Switzerland. On his first evening he goes down to Montagnola for dinner at the Belle Vue and meets there on the terrace an older gentleman, a curmudgeonly type who is still working through the tragic loss of his wife. Clarin likes to see himself as a bit of a rake, cynical about the chances of any marriage lasting longer than it takes for the bridal bouquet to wilt. They lock horns over the state of the world and modern life, over communications and capitalism, over loyalty, harmony, forgiveness and Windows 2000. They meet again the next evening. Now their conversations turn to the anecdotal. To women. And sex. And death.
Two men, talking. Sounds dire, especially as they never even get on to football.
But the text is as intoxicating as the Merlot bianco the men consume in no small quantity. There is an ease and breadth in their talk, as wide and open as the vista of the Collina D'Oro and Lake Lugano that surrounds them. Velvety and rich like wine, clean and bracing like the landscape. They are good company. Ironically combative, courteous and expansive. Until the next night, when Clarin's hangover has made for a lost day of work and accompanying dissatisfaction and resentment at the older man's invasion of his time. But unable to resist all the same. There is something uncanny about the man. He can read Clarin like an open book. And knows precisely how to tease out what he wants to know.
Maybe because Dr. Faustus haunts my dreams at the moment, I see devilish characters wherever I turn. However this is a reversal of the Faustian myth, even if the conversations remind me of the meeting between Leverkühn and Lucifer, the deal is quite a different one. Here the devil has not conferred anything. On the contrary, he has been robbed. He is not offering knowledge or talent in exchange for Clarin's soul. He is taking revenge. This is not Faust, this is the second circle of hell, where those who lust will be tossed back and forth by winds forever. A true circle, the end takes us to the beginning again. Clarin will not escape from this torture. It will go on, and on. And on.
June 9, 2024
English version below
*********************
Dieses Buch hat mir die Buchhändlerin meines Vertrauens empfohlen, die üblicherweise einen guten Riecher für meinen Lesegeschmack hat. Die erste Hälfte des Buches habe ich mich allerdings gefragt, was sie sich dabei gedacht hat. In der zweiten Hälfte des Buches entwickelt sich die Geschichte jedoch deutlich interessanter.
Worum geht es eigentlich?
Ein bindungsunfähiger schweizer Jurist in den Dreissigern, der die Frauen wechselt wie die Unterhosen, fährt in sein Ferienhaus in den Bergen, um einen Essay zu verfassen. Am Abend begibt er sich in das einem Hotel angeschlossene Restaurant im tiefer gelegenen Dorf. Dort lernt er einen Mann in den Fünfzigern kennen und die beiden beginnen ein sehr merkwürdiges Gespräch.
In der ersten Hälfte des Buches besteht der Dialog weitestgehend aus Plattitüden und Trivialitäten, die sich den Anschein von Bedeutsamkeit geben wollen.
In der zweiten Hälfte des Buches verspürt man jedoch eine Unterströmung von Geheimnissen und verborgenen Botschaften. Die unerwartete Wendung am Ende fand ich zwar nicht so besonders unerwartet, habe mich aber dennoch über die Bestätigung meines Verdachts gefreut.
Und nun zum Stil. Das Buch besteht zum Großen Teil aus den Dialogen der beiden Männer, Diese kommen wechselweise als indirekte Rede oder auch als direkte Rede daher. Durch völligen Verzicht auf Anführungszeichen und eine homöopathische Verwendung von Absätzen, fand ich das Buch streckenweise anstrengend zu lesen.
Unterm Strich fand ich das nicht uninteressant, aber es bleibt dennoch weit von einem Highlight entfernt. Ich vergebe 2,5 Sterne und runde auf.
_______________
This book was recommended to me by my trusted bookseller, who usually has a good nose for my reading tastes. For the first half of the book, however, I wondered what she was thinking. In the second half of the book, however, the story develops in a much more interesting way.
What is it actually about?
A Swiss lawyer in his thirties who is incapable of commitment and changes women like underwear goes to his holiday home in the mountains to write an essay. In the evening, he goes to the restaurant attached to a hotel in the village below. There he meets a man in his fifties and the two begin a very strange conversation.
In the first half of the book, the dialogue consists largely of platitudes and trivialities that try to give the appearance of meaningfulness.
In the second half of the book, however, one senses an undercurrent of mystery and hidden messages. I didn't find the unexpected twist at the end particularly unexpected, but I was still pleased to have my suspicions confirmed.
And now to the style. The book consists largely of the dialogues between the two men, which alternate between indirect speech and direct speech. Due to the complete absence of inverted commas and the homeopathic use of paragraphs, I found the book exhausting to read at times.
All in all, I didn't find it uninteresting, but it's still far from a highlight. I give it 2.5 stars and round it up.
*********************
Dieses Buch hat mir die Buchhändlerin meines Vertrauens empfohlen, die üblicherweise einen guten Riecher für meinen Lesegeschmack hat. Die erste Hälfte des Buches habe ich mich allerdings gefragt, was sie sich dabei gedacht hat. In der zweiten Hälfte des Buches entwickelt sich die Geschichte jedoch deutlich interessanter.
Worum geht es eigentlich?
Ein bindungsunfähiger schweizer Jurist in den Dreissigern, der die Frauen wechselt wie die Unterhosen, fährt in sein Ferienhaus in den Bergen, um einen Essay zu verfassen. Am Abend begibt er sich in das einem Hotel angeschlossene Restaurant im tiefer gelegenen Dorf. Dort lernt er einen Mann in den Fünfzigern kennen und die beiden beginnen ein sehr merkwürdiges Gespräch.
In der ersten Hälfte des Buches besteht der Dialog weitestgehend aus Plattitüden und Trivialitäten, die sich den Anschein von Bedeutsamkeit geben wollen.
In der zweiten Hälfte des Buches verspürt man jedoch eine Unterströmung von Geheimnissen und verborgenen Botschaften. Die unerwartete Wendung am Ende fand ich zwar nicht so besonders unerwartet, habe mich aber dennoch über die Bestätigung meines Verdachts gefreut.
Und nun zum Stil. Das Buch besteht zum Großen Teil aus den Dialogen der beiden Männer, Diese kommen wechselweise als indirekte Rede oder auch als direkte Rede daher. Durch völligen Verzicht auf Anführungszeichen und eine homöopathische Verwendung von Absätzen, fand ich das Buch streckenweise anstrengend zu lesen.
Unterm Strich fand ich das nicht uninteressant, aber es bleibt dennoch weit von einem Highlight entfernt. Ich vergebe 2,5 Sterne und runde auf.
_______________
This book was recommended to me by my trusted bookseller, who usually has a good nose for my reading tastes. For the first half of the book, however, I wondered what she was thinking. In the second half of the book, however, the story develops in a much more interesting way.
What is it actually about?
A Swiss lawyer in his thirties who is incapable of commitment and changes women like underwear goes to his holiday home in the mountains to write an essay. In the evening, he goes to the restaurant attached to a hotel in the village below. There he meets a man in his fifties and the two begin a very strange conversation.
In the first half of the book, the dialogue consists largely of platitudes and trivialities that try to give the appearance of meaningfulness.
In the second half of the book, however, one senses an undercurrent of mystery and hidden messages. I didn't find the unexpected twist at the end particularly unexpected, but I was still pleased to have my suspicions confirmed.
And now to the style. The book consists largely of the dialogues between the two men, which alternate between indirect speech and direct speech. Due to the complete absence of inverted commas and the homeopathic use of paragraphs, I found the book exhausting to read at times.
All in all, I didn't find it uninteresting, but it's still far from a highlight. I give it 2.5 stars and round it up.
November 14, 2025
Twee mannen genaamd Thomas raken op een hotelterrasje in de bergen van Zwitserland aan de praat en lijken er, hoe verder de conversaties evolueren, een vrij tegengestelde levensvisie op na te houden. De ene is een advocaat, een flierefluiter, de andere, een leraar op leeftijd die nog steeds trouw zweert aan zijn overleden vrouw. De jongste van de twee, Clarin, raakt daardoor meer en meer gefascineerd door zijn gesprekspartner en na diens onverwacht vertrek, blijft hij door zijn hoofd spoken... Wie was die Thomas Loos nu eigenlijk?
"Helling" is zonder twijfel één van de beste post-2000 boeken die ik ooit heb gelezen. De situatie, de stijl, de toon, ... Dit is wat ik zoek in literatuur. Misschien heeft de Bernhard-invloed daar wel iets mee te maken: de namen van de twee hoofdpersonages, de pessimistische maar grappige bespiegelingen, verhalen over nonkels die sterven door in liftschachten te sukkelen en vrienden die elkaar eigenlijk niet kunnen uitstaan, ...
Ik ga in ieder geval op zoek naar Werners andere in het Nederlands vertaalde roman "Vasteland"! Bedankt aan Bogdan voor de tip!
"De wereld was vol genoeg, zei ze een keer, en iedere nieuwe voetbalsupporter was er een te veel."
"Alleen talmen is humaan."
"Ik nam me bijvoorbeeld steeds weer voor één keer 's morgens eerder op te staan dan hij, maar het lukte me nooit en ik haatte hem vanwege mijn nederlagen."
"[...] als een zo jonge vrouw het proces van paring een natuurverschijnsel noemt, dan is ze een bijzonder mens."
"Wie goed verborgen was, heeft goed geleefd, zei Loos, maar van een dergelijke waarheid heeft een kuddedier geen idee."
"Helling" is zonder twijfel één van de beste post-2000 boeken die ik ooit heb gelezen. De situatie, de stijl, de toon, ... Dit is wat ik zoek in literatuur. Misschien heeft de Bernhard-invloed daar wel iets mee te maken: de namen van de twee hoofdpersonages, de pessimistische maar grappige bespiegelingen, verhalen over nonkels die sterven door in liftschachten te sukkelen en vrienden die elkaar eigenlijk niet kunnen uitstaan, ...
Ik ga in ieder geval op zoek naar Werners andere in het Nederlands vertaalde roman "Vasteland"! Bedankt aan Bogdan voor de tip!
"De wereld was vol genoeg, zei ze een keer, en iedere nieuwe voetbalsupporter was er een te veel."
"Alleen talmen is humaan."
"Ik nam me bijvoorbeeld steeds weer voor één keer 's morgens eerder op te staan dan hij, maar het lukte me nooit en ik haatte hem vanwege mijn nederlagen."
"[...] als een zo jonge vrouw het proces van paring een natuurverschijnsel noemt, dan is ze een bijzonder mens."
"Wie goed verborgen was, heeft goed geleefd, zei Loos, maar van een dergelijke waarheid heeft een kuddedier geen idee."
August 2, 2015
Review Am Hang
I remember vividly when my German teacher – I live in Switzerland and we have German/literature classes the same as others have English or their respective languages – gave us homework for over summer holidays.
We had to read Am Hang. Our edition was the cheapest because the book was tiny. The itty-bitty hardcover book was intriguing to me because of its size and the slight shimmer of the front cover. But the most interesting part was when our teacher, Mrs. H., said we should only read 1/3 of the book, aka the first chapter.
She didn’t explain why. That peaked my interest. I knew her well enough to know that there was a reason for NOT to finish the novel during summer holidays so she probably meant it as an experiment based on the content of the novel.
I was not prepared for what came.
One sunny day I decided to start reading the novel.
I put on shorts and a bikini top, prepared my iced tea, some fruits, and water for my reading arrangement on the balcony, lay on the sunlounger and began the most exciting ride of my life!
But it wasn’t exciting.
Dare I say, it was boring?
Yes, I do dare.
So there he was, the womanizing Clarin, sitting on the terrace of the Bellavista Hotel drinking and reminiscing about his life and success with women. His ego was enormous, the story apparently nonexistent, and my confusion big.
What is this novel about?
Loos, an older man, soon engaged him in a conversation and the two men talked about everything and nothing. Honestly, since I read the book years ago (2006/7ish…a little sooner?), I don’t exactly remember what they were talking about. Lots of trivial things, some personal things, accounts on women, life, and other mundane peculiarities.
Loos tells the story of a woman who got struck by lightning while she was in the park because of the metal underwire in her bra.
Was this a joke?
A big ruse from the author?
Or was he trying to evoke depth and fail miserably like Martin Suter does?
Oh, look at how the leaves sway in the wind…it’s so calming and soothing… I love how the sunrays pierce through the crown of the tree and brake into tiny, shimmering sparkles that melt into each other.
What time is it? Already? How many pages did I read? Only ten?! Ugh, this is never going to end!
Well, I deserved a break!
The fruits were delicious and the water tasty fresh.
Ah, well, continue reading, or you’ll never finish this!
Damn, a wasp!
Okay, so I got totally distracted here and there and took lots of breaks.
But I knew their needed to be something or else Mrs. H. wouldn’t have told us to ONLY read one chapter of three!
Wait, what was that?
As soon as I glimpsed the oddity, subtle but screaming in my head, I couldn’t shake the feeling off that something was going on. Something weird. I noticed it but Clarin didn’t. How could he not?! SOMETHING was obviously amiss!
The conversation went on.
The slight pinches of irritation and paranoia get stronger. Multiply. They stab me in the back. In the chest. My head is screaming in alarm! The footsteps I noticed earlier snuck closer and closer! The killer is about to get me! IT’S A PSYCHOLOGICAL THRILLER!
Or is it?
What is this weird but oh so captivating novel?
Without noticing or rather with notice but willful ignorance and lots of patience I got sucked into the story and couldn’t step away anymore!
What started as a fight against my drowsy laziness and the mix of boredom, irritation, and minute placed hints unfolded into a novel I was not able to put down!
I finished the first chapter and hungered for more!
I needed to know what was going on!
Clarin, Loos, Loos’ wife, Clarin’s ex-lovers, women struck by lightning because of bras!
What the heck was going on?!
No, I KNEW what was going on. I knew!
Way before Clarin did!
That’s why I HAD to know what would happen!
When will that arrogant prick notice it?
When will shit hit the fan?
Is he going to die…?
Suffice to say I finished the novel immediately and did not wait for the beginning of the semester and the permission of my teacher. My attention was caught, the mystery gnawing at my brain. This hat to be read right now or I would lose my sanity.
We started the new semester and I think three others had finished the book as well. It was fun to see the experience of reading the last two chapters in my classmates. Most of them were totally oblivious to the twists and turns. They had not payed attention. They were not smart enough. Not attentive or interested. And like Clarin, they suffered from hubris and fell deep down the rabbit whole, confused and disoriented.
I was always wondering how Clarin couldn’t see the obvious hints but if over 20 people had failed as well, it made clear it wasn’t impossible.
I don’t remember much of the discussions in class but one memory stuck vivid with me until today. A girl in my class hated the book because she hated Clarin. She despised him and therefore the book. I facepalmed so hard it hurt.
That, my dear classmate, was the whole idea of the book.
Clarin is not meant to be likeable. We aren’t supposed to like his womanizing attitude and misogyny. He was an interesting character, yes, and like every person he had good qualities. But in the end, his bad side was stronger and he payed for it. Probably…
To this day I don’t understand how my classmate didn’t grasp this concept. The unlikable character was, contrary to almost ALL YA/NA novels, meant to be disliked and was portrayed as such.
Nabokov had done that, too.
How should I end this review that has nothing and everything to do with this book?
With a recommendation to read it.
This was one of the most interesting experiences with a novel I’ve ever had and the stark difference between the beginning and the end, the feelings I had, was so strong I remember it until today.
I don’t know if the book is really that good.
I don’t know if I’d like it now.
What I DO know is that I liked it then and it has remained one of the most fascinating reading experiences I’ve ever had and I’d love to see other people go through the same turmoil and tell me their stories of reading Am Hang.
I remember vividly when my German teacher – I live in Switzerland and we have German/literature classes the same as others have English or their respective languages – gave us homework for over summer holidays.
We had to read Am Hang. Our edition was the cheapest because the book was tiny. The itty-bitty hardcover book was intriguing to me because of its size and the slight shimmer of the front cover. But the most interesting part was when our teacher, Mrs. H., said we should only read 1/3 of the book, aka the first chapter.
She didn’t explain why. That peaked my interest. I knew her well enough to know that there was a reason for NOT to finish the novel during summer holidays so she probably meant it as an experiment based on the content of the novel.
I was not prepared for what came.
One sunny day I decided to start reading the novel.
I put on shorts and a bikini top, prepared my iced tea, some fruits, and water for my reading arrangement on the balcony, lay on the sunlounger and began the most exciting ride of my life!
But it wasn’t exciting.
Dare I say, it was boring?
Yes, I do dare.
So there he was, the womanizing Clarin, sitting on the terrace of the Bellavista Hotel drinking and reminiscing about his life and success with women. His ego was enormous, the story apparently nonexistent, and my confusion big.
What is this novel about?
Loos, an older man, soon engaged him in a conversation and the two men talked about everything and nothing. Honestly, since I read the book years ago (2006/7ish…a little sooner?), I don’t exactly remember what they were talking about. Lots of trivial things, some personal things, accounts on women, life, and other mundane peculiarities.
Loos tells the story of a woman who got struck by lightning while she was in the park because of the metal underwire in her bra.
Was this a joke?
A big ruse from the author?
Or was he trying to evoke depth and fail miserably like Martin Suter does?
Oh, look at how the leaves sway in the wind…it’s so calming and soothing… I love how the sunrays pierce through the crown of the tree and brake into tiny, shimmering sparkles that melt into each other.
What time is it? Already? How many pages did I read? Only ten?! Ugh, this is never going to end!
Well, I deserved a break!
The fruits were delicious and the water tasty fresh.
Ah, well, continue reading, or you’ll never finish this!
Damn, a wasp!
Okay, so I got totally distracted here and there and took lots of breaks.
But I knew their needed to be something or else Mrs. H. wouldn’t have told us to ONLY read one chapter of three!
Wait, what was that?
As soon as I glimpsed the oddity, subtle but screaming in my head, I couldn’t shake the feeling off that something was going on. Something weird. I noticed it but Clarin didn’t. How could he not?! SOMETHING was obviously amiss!
The conversation went on.
The slight pinches of irritation and paranoia get stronger. Multiply. They stab me in the back. In the chest. My head is screaming in alarm! The footsteps I noticed earlier snuck closer and closer! The killer is about to get me! IT’S A PSYCHOLOGICAL THRILLER!
Or is it?
What is this weird but oh so captivating novel?
Without noticing or rather with notice but willful ignorance and lots of patience I got sucked into the story and couldn’t step away anymore!
What started as a fight against my drowsy laziness and the mix of boredom, irritation, and minute placed hints unfolded into a novel I was not able to put down!
I finished the first chapter and hungered for more!
I needed to know what was going on!
Clarin, Loos, Loos’ wife, Clarin’s ex-lovers, women struck by lightning because of bras!
What the heck was going on?!
No, I KNEW what was going on. I knew!
Way before Clarin did!
That’s why I HAD to know what would happen!
When will that arrogant prick notice it?
When will shit hit the fan?
Is he going to die…?
Suffice to say I finished the novel immediately and did not wait for the beginning of the semester and the permission of my teacher. My attention was caught, the mystery gnawing at my brain. This hat to be read right now or I would lose my sanity.
We started the new semester and I think three others had finished the book as well. It was fun to see the experience of reading the last two chapters in my classmates. Most of them were totally oblivious to the twists and turns. They had not payed attention. They were not smart enough. Not attentive or interested. And like Clarin, they suffered from hubris and fell deep down the rabbit whole, confused and disoriented.
I was always wondering how Clarin couldn’t see the obvious hints but if over 20 people had failed as well, it made clear it wasn’t impossible.
I don’t remember much of the discussions in class but one memory stuck vivid with me until today. A girl in my class hated the book because she hated Clarin. She despised him and therefore the book. I facepalmed so hard it hurt.
That, my dear classmate, was the whole idea of the book.
Clarin is not meant to be likeable. We aren’t supposed to like his womanizing attitude and misogyny. He was an interesting character, yes, and like every person he had good qualities. But in the end, his bad side was stronger and he payed for it. Probably…
To this day I don’t understand how my classmate didn’t grasp this concept. The unlikable character was, contrary to almost ALL YA/NA novels, meant to be disliked and was portrayed as such.
Nabokov had done that, too.
How should I end this review that has nothing and everything to do with this book?
With a recommendation to read it.
This was one of the most interesting experiences with a novel I’ve ever had and the stark difference between the beginning and the end, the feelings I had, was so strong I remember it until today.
I don’t know if the book is really that good.
I don’t know if I’d like it now.
What I DO know is that I liked it then and it has remained one of the most fascinating reading experiences I’ve ever had and I’d love to see other people go through the same turmoil and tell me their stories of reading Am Hang.
March 7, 2025
Der Moment, wo man beginnt zu verstehen…
July 21, 2017
3,5 *
Da ich jetzt mit dem Buch durch bin und begriffen habe, um was es geht, möchte ich es nochmal von vorne lesen....
Da ich jetzt mit dem Buch durch bin und begriffen habe, um was es geht, möchte ich es nochmal von vorne lesen....
October 27, 2021
Докрая странна, но приятна книга. Иска ми се всичките ми ежедневни разговори с хората да протичат по същия начин, както между двамата герои в нея - дълбоко и интелектуално, но същевременно напълно във връзка с реалността и времето, в което живеем. Препоръчвам за читатели, които предпочитат по-неконвенционално ситуирани творби.
March 19, 2017
Freiheit trifft auf Sicherheit, die ultimative Konfrontation.
Die Gründe seien filigran und schwer zugänglich, sagte sie. - Ob sie sie also kenne, fragte ich. Sie sagte, sie könne sie fühlen.
Ich liess sie fühlen und bestellte ein Wasser.
Die Gründe seien filigran und schwer zugänglich, sagte sie. - Ob sie sie also kenne, fragte ich. Sie sagte, sie könne sie fühlen.
Ich liess sie fühlen und bestellte ein Wasser.
December 20, 2024
Spannend, wirr und unwahrscheinlich genial! Noch eher als Sommerlektüre geeignet.
April 16, 2013
4.5 stars
Very cute little novella. Reading it was like having an interesting, intellectual but not obliging conversation with not very closed but clever friends over a glass of something red or white. Also quite unexpected twist at the end. The size of just 120 pages is an advantage as well. Only minor weakness in my eyes that the female characters behind the scene look slightly simplistic.
The translation is marvellous and it is a pity there are no other books of this author translated into English.
Very cute little novella. Reading it was like having an interesting, intellectual but not obliging conversation with not very closed but clever friends over a glass of something red or white. Also quite unexpected twist at the end. The size of just 120 pages is an advantage as well. Only minor weakness in my eyes that the female characters behind the scene look slightly simplistic.
The translation is marvellous and it is a pity there are no other books of this author translated into English.
February 1, 2015
Романите на Вернер са препоръчителни за читатели, чиито слух и зрение отдавна са отвикнали да приемат само мимолетното и винаги търсят дълбочините. Дълбочина на образите, лекота на изразяване на философски идеи, интересна фабула, липса на комерсиално писане. Маркус Вернер пише просто за живота и с едно единствено изречение, без усилие, извежда мислите на героя си в убедителна житейска философия.
Образите му са психологически сложни, ерудирани, мислещи, колебаещи се. Срещата с тях е изключително приятна и вълнуваща. Истинско удоволствие бе за мен да присъствам мълчаливо на дългия разговор между героите в този роман.
Двама мъже на различна възраст и с различна житейска философия. Кларин - малко над трийсетте, адвокат по бракоразводни дела, не обича да се обвързва, консумира свободно удоволствията, които животът му предлага. Лооз - малко над петдесетте, преподавател, склонен да обожава една единствена жена, ако е способна да му даде всичко. Особняк, черногледец и мърморко според своя опонент.
Всичко започва с една случайна среща на терасата на хотел „Белвю“, разкриваща възхитителна гледка към склоновете на кантона Тичино, Швейцария. Тривиалният разговор около пейзажа, неусетно преминава в разказ на лични истории, в сблъсък на житейски философии, за да достигне развръзката си в образа на една жена. Разговор, в който двамата се оказват необичайно въвлечени и необяснимо заинтригувани.
Започва с поглед нагоре към склона, който по-късно се обръща навътре към всеки един от тях, за да се превърне към края в любопитно и дори подозрително вглеждане един в друг. Този разговор загатва за символиката на пречистването на Петдесетница, около която се случват събитията в романа.
Повече: http://knizhka-s-mishka.eu/
Образите му са психологически сложни, ерудирани, мислещи, колебаещи се. Срещата с тях е изключително приятна и вълнуваща. Истинско удоволствие бе за мен да присъствам мълчаливо на дългия разговор между героите в този роман.
Двама мъже на различна възраст и с различна житейска философия. Кларин - малко над трийсетте, адвокат по бракоразводни дела, не обича да се обвързва, консумира свободно удоволствията, които животът му предлага. Лооз - малко над петдесетте, преподавател, склонен да обожава една единствена жена, ако е способна да му даде всичко. Особняк, черногледец и мърморко според своя опонент.
Всичко започва с една случайна среща на терасата на хотел „Белвю“, разкриваща възхитителна гледка към склоновете на кантона Тичино, Швейцария. Тривиалният разговор около пейзажа, неусетно преминава в разказ на лични истории, в сблъсък на житейски философии, за да достигне развръзката си в образа на една жена. Разговор, в който двамата се оказват необичайно въвлечени и необяснимо заинтригувани.
Започва с поглед нагоре към склона, който по-късно се обръща навътре към всеки един от тях, за да се превърне към края в любопитно и дори подозрително вглеждане един в друг. Този разговор загатва за символиката на пречистването на Петдесетница, около която се случват събитията в романа.
Повече: http://knizhka-s-mishka.eu/
October 12, 2019
Die beklemmende (Schweizer Tal-)Atmosphäre als Spiegel des Seelenzustandes des Protagonisten Clarin ergriff mich sofort. Leider kommt der Roman trotz seiner Kürze nicht ohne Längen aus. Für mich kein durchgehendes spannendes Kammerspiel, aber gespickt mit faszinierenden Einsichten.
July 23, 2014
This is one of the books that makes one a fan for life of the author; sadly there are no more English translations so far and I cannot read German but I will try and track French translations of other books by Markus Werner as On the Edge was really astounding with a last third that completely turns things on their head, makes rereading the novel a must (as well as marveling at the little touches you do not see the first time and at the control of the author) as well as fulfilling the promise of the first paragraph which was the kind that made me buy the book on the spot:
"Everything’s turning. And everything’s turning round him. It’s insane, but I’m even tempted to think that he’s sneaking around the house right now—with or without a dagger. Although he’s supposed to have left, and I’m just hearing crickets and the distant barking of dogs in the night."
After this dramatic introduction by the narrator - womanizer mid-thirties Swiss divorce lawyer Thomas Clarin - he starts recounting how he drove to his mountain villa for a long weekend to write a paper on Swiss divorce law history, only to to go to a nearby famed restaurant terrace and due to its being busy sit at a table with an older, powerfully built 50's man, who at first ignores him after giving Clarin tacit permission to sit at his table; however after Clarin, outgoing, sociable, charming as his many conquests and "theory of dating" show, introduces himself, the older man starts paying attention and tells him his name Loos as they start discussing stuff:
"Well, first, as I hinted, the discussion was all ‘God and the world,’ but then we gradually got more personal, more intimate, you could say. For example, he asked me about my life as a bachelor and then along the way about my love life.”
Loos is mourning his wife dead one year ago after about with brain cancer and Clarin slowly falls under his spell
“I met a man by chance at the Bellevue in Montagnola, a remarkable man, a little over fifty, a classical philologist. We got to be friends of a sort, talked with each other for two evenings long. His name was Loos, Thomas Loos, physically a bear of a man. He had come down here, as he gradually revealed, to commemorate his wife, his dead Bettina, whom he revered like a saint—it came across as crazy to me. He was unquestionably disturbed, from time to time almost unbalanced—then completely normal again and impressively sharp-minded, especially when it came to proving how awful the present age is, how unbearable the world—the only thing he valued was his wife, his happy marriage"
While the first part with its sort of "angels on the pinhead" discussion read like the ruminations of prosperous white males from prosperous countries who never felt real deprivation and i started being a bit "meh, these guys should have been born in a poor country and see if they would have their smug talk then..." but slowly the book started going into the past of both Clarin and Loos and then it accelerated to an even higher level, by the last third becoming just a masterpiece of misdirection and twists and turns.
Highly, highly recommended and a top 25 for 2013 (as this is the US edition just published in February by NY Review of books)
"Everything’s turning. And everything’s turning round him. It’s insane, but I’m even tempted to think that he’s sneaking around the house right now—with or without a dagger. Although he’s supposed to have left, and I’m just hearing crickets and the distant barking of dogs in the night."
After this dramatic introduction by the narrator - womanizer mid-thirties Swiss divorce lawyer Thomas Clarin - he starts recounting how he drove to his mountain villa for a long weekend to write a paper on Swiss divorce law history, only to to go to a nearby famed restaurant terrace and due to its being busy sit at a table with an older, powerfully built 50's man, who at first ignores him after giving Clarin tacit permission to sit at his table; however after Clarin, outgoing, sociable, charming as his many conquests and "theory of dating" show, introduces himself, the older man starts paying attention and tells him his name Loos as they start discussing stuff:
"Well, first, as I hinted, the discussion was all ‘God and the world,’ but then we gradually got more personal, more intimate, you could say. For example, he asked me about my life as a bachelor and then along the way about my love life.”
Loos is mourning his wife dead one year ago after about with brain cancer and Clarin slowly falls under his spell
“I met a man by chance at the Bellevue in Montagnola, a remarkable man, a little over fifty, a classical philologist. We got to be friends of a sort, talked with each other for two evenings long. His name was Loos, Thomas Loos, physically a bear of a man. He had come down here, as he gradually revealed, to commemorate his wife, his dead Bettina, whom he revered like a saint—it came across as crazy to me. He was unquestionably disturbed, from time to time almost unbalanced—then completely normal again and impressively sharp-minded, especially when it came to proving how awful the present age is, how unbearable the world—the only thing he valued was his wife, his happy marriage"
While the first part with its sort of "angels on the pinhead" discussion read like the ruminations of prosperous white males from prosperous countries who never felt real deprivation and i started being a bit "meh, these guys should have been born in a poor country and see if they would have their smug talk then..." but slowly the book started going into the past of both Clarin and Loos and then it accelerated to an even higher level, by the last third becoming just a masterpiece of misdirection and twists and turns.
Highly, highly recommended and a top 25 for 2013 (as this is the US edition just published in February by NY Review of books)
December 25, 2022
,,Am Hang” ist ein Buch, welches den Leser mit etlichen Fragen im Kopf zurücklässt, was man positiv oder negativ deuten kann. Ich persönlich habe damit deutliche Schwierigkeiten, zumal ich einfach nicht zu einem Schluss kommen kann, was das alles nun zu bedeuten hatte und was Markus Werner aussagen wollte, denn trotz seines grandiosen Schreibstils, blieb das Ende für mich inkohärent und unpassend. Ich habe einige Vermutungen aufgestellt, aber diese werden immer wieder vom wirren Ende zunichte gemacht, sodass ich dieses Werk von Markus Werner mit drei Sternen bewertet und unbefriedigt zur Seite lege.
April 13, 2020
It is a good book. The twist in the end is great and puts it all in it's place. The problem though that until getting to the end the book didn't seem all that good. It is all a conversation. Written in a pretty hard to read way. There are paragraphs that take pages, it is all written from the point of one of the men so the whole paragraphs are not even dialogues but the narrator telling us what "he said".
And I was wondering, so what is this all about? Is this supposed to be some kind of philosophical conversation? Well them there were parts that seemed good but for the most it was just two guys talking and talking.
And then comes the end and you finally get the point you think "aha". Now it makes sense, now this conversation seems even really smart and good! So here comes the dilemma, what rating to give to a book whose main idea is so good and yet you have no idea about it until about 90% into the book and until some parts even seem to be dreading?
Well I will go with "like". Because I really did like the idea, so smartly though throught. But it doesn't seem like a book that one likes a lot on the first read and I think this should make it lose a point. Maybe if I even read this book again, although I am not that sure I will because I have trouble making myself reread books, I will rate it higher.
And I was wondering, so what is this all about? Is this supposed to be some kind of philosophical conversation? Well them there were parts that seemed good but for the most it was just two guys talking and talking.
And then comes the end and you finally get the point you think "aha". Now it makes sense, now this conversation seems even really smart and good! So here comes the dilemma, what rating to give to a book whose main idea is so good and yet you have no idea about it until about 90% into the book and until some parts even seem to be dreading?
Well I will go with "like". Because I really did like the idea, so smartly though throught. But it doesn't seem like a book that one likes a lot on the first read and I think this should make it lose a point. Maybe if I even read this book again, although I am not that sure I will because I have trouble making myself reread books, I will rate it higher.
October 23, 2016
Ölüm, yaşam, aşk üzerine derin bir sorgulama.. ciddiyetinden ödün vermeyen, doyurucu bir kitap. İki adamın iki akşam buluşmasını ve bu buluşmalarda hayat hakkında yaptıkları konuşmalarını ele alır. Durağan gibi görünebilir ama öyle değil, en çetrefilli sorunları ele alış ve yorumlayış biçimleri çok etkileyici. Ana konu ise kadın ve erkek ilişkileri. Bazıları kitap için düşünsel bir polisiye benzetmesi yapmış, bence de öyle.
October 9, 2007
Na ja... Nach dieser Lektüre ist man überhaupt nicht überrascht, zu entdecken, dass Markus Werner über Max Frisch promoviert hat... Alles ist hier : Wahrheit und Lüge, Spiel mit der Wirklichkeit und dem, was die Wirklichkeit sein könnte, psychologische Verwirrung... Es liest sich durchaus angenehm, aber nach "mein name sei Gantenbein" braucht man solche quasi-Nebenprodukte nicht mehr.
September 20, 2018
nicht mein Fall.
was finden so viele so toll daran?
was finden so viele so toll daran?
May 28, 2023
Hmhmhm nett nett nett
Männer…
Männer…
June 29, 2021
War leider nicht so meins
December 11, 2022
Das vielbeschworene überraschende Ende ließ mich schon früh spekulieren, worum es gehen könnte. Ist der ältere Herr vielleicht Gott oder der Teufel, oder nur eine Halluzination? Nein, viel profaner.
Ein kurzes Buch, ein Schweizer Autor, das machte mich neugierig. Normalerweise lese ich solche Psycho-Kammerspiele nicht, denn irgendein überraschendes Ende versuchen sie alle zu bieten. Der Anfang war noch interessant, dann wurden die Längen offenkundig.
Ach ja, deswegen interessiert mich Gegenwartsliteratur so wenig. Statt über Beziehungsprobleme überprivilegierter Zeitgenossen zu lesen, halte ich mir lieber an zeitlich und geografisch weit hergeholte Inhalte.
Ein kurzes Buch, ein Schweizer Autor, das machte mich neugierig. Normalerweise lese ich solche Psycho-Kammerspiele nicht, denn irgendein überraschendes Ende versuchen sie alle zu bieten. Der Anfang war noch interessant, dann wurden die Längen offenkundig.
Ach ja, deswegen interessiert mich Gegenwartsliteratur so wenig. Statt über Beziehungsprobleme überprivilegierter Zeitgenossen zu lesen, halte ich mir lieber an zeitlich und geografisch weit hergeholte Inhalte.
February 11, 2013
Really enjoying this - I am about half way through. It does, however, begin to lose its interest for me towards the end. The supposed 'twist' at the end wasn't quite as amazing as the blurb on the book indicated. But it is the sort of book I like, more philosophical, little or no plot to speak of. Too many books, in my opnion, are too concerned with plot at the expense of interest.
December 21, 2018
I had difficulty getting through this brief book simply because my mother had just passed away, and it was difficult to focus. When I got near the end, however, it became apparent that the narrator is being manipulated, which naturally means the reader is, too. If I didn't have so many unread books on my shelf, I'd reread this to look for foreshadowing.
May 16, 2014
Schöne Sprache wandelnd zwischen Wahrheit und Lüge.
"Mit dem Erkalten ihrer Hand erkaltete auch ich"
"Mit dem Erkalten ihrer Hand erkaltete auch ich"
March 30, 2017
The story only spans one weekend and two strangers meeting and discussing very personal topics... and there is a major twist in the end. I really enjoyed the story and the writing is beautiful!!
December 18, 2018
„… напълно ми е чуждо да приемам нещата от живота с по-голяма от нужната тежест…“
July 15, 2019
Kitabın temposunu sevemedim ne yazık ki. Keşke başlardaki ivmesini koruyabilseydi.
June 11, 2019
Der Scheidungsanwalt Thomas Clarin, mit der Betonung auf der letzten Silbe bitte, worauf er immer wieder hinweist, möchte in seinem Tessiner Ferienhaus eigentlich ein geruhsames Wochenende verbringen, um ungestört einen Aufsatz über das "Ehe- bzw. Scheidungsrecht"für eine Juristenzeitung zu schreiben.
Doch alles kommt ganz anders, nachdem er auf der Terrasse des Hotels Bellavista in Montagnola auf einen gewissen Loos stößt, der, wie es der Zufall so will, ebenfalls auf den nicht ungewöhnlichen Vornamen Thomas hört. Nach einigen Mühen kommt Clarin mit dem sich sonderbar abweisend verhaltenden älteren Herrn schließlich in ein ebenso sonderbares Gespräch, in das er sich wie gebannt fallen lässt.
Bei zuviel Wein unterhalten sich die beiden Männer mit den komplett entgegengesetzten Ansichten und Lebenseinstellungen ganze drei Abende lang vor allem über die Liebe und den Zeitgeist. Was die beiden Männer aufeinander zutreibt, ist vorerst nicht klar, nur dass mit der Begegnung ein Aneinanderantasten, ein Lauschen, ein Aushorchen und gegenseitiges Belauern beginnt, das wird für den Leser bald sehr offensichtlich.
Der Ich-Erzähler Clarin hat dabei immer wieder das Gefühl - und der Leser mit ihm - , dass Loos, ein merkwürdiger Sonderling in den Fünfzigern, der sich als Altphilologe vorstellt und sich schnell als entschiedener und geradezu verbitterter Gegner all dessen entlarvt, das er als Zeitgeist bezeichnet und worauf er immer wieder aufs Neue und ausschweifend herumhackt, entlarvt, sicher verschroben, aber vielleicht auch verrückt ist.
Doch hat er, ein Witwer, eine sehr positive Beziehung zur Institution Ehe, die ihm immer eine Heimat war, und die Clarin seinerseits auf zynische Art ablehnt. Er sucht lieber das schnelle, unverbindliche Abenteuer, das Vergnügen in kurzen Affären, derer er sich schnell wieder entledigt, wenn er spürt, dass es ernster werden oder die jeweilige Frau sich etwa in ihn verliebt haben könnte.
Und so wie Loos besagten Zeitgeist scharf kritisiert, so sehr ist Clarin nicht nur darin gefangen, sondern lebt ihn gar mit Überzeugung.
Das Gespräch der beiden Männer gleitet bald in die persönliche Ebene hinüber - und damit kommt eine Frau namens Valerie ins Spiel, von der sich der smarte Junganwalt im Jahr zuvor am gleichen Ort getrennt hat und die bis zum Ende eine rätselhafte Rolle spielen soll. Zu eben jenem Zeitpunkt starb auch, wie sich schnell herausstellt, Loosens Frau, ebenfalls in Montagnola.
Immer mehr seltsame Parallelen tuen sich auf zwischen Loos und Clarin - und als ersterer nach dem dritten Abend aus dem Hotel verschwindet und Clarin feststellen muss, dass Loos gar nicht der wahre Name des neuen Bekannten ist, mit dem er so intensive und sehr persönliche Gespräche geführt hat, beginnt er endlich stutzig zu werden und nachzudenken - und kommt auf eine verstörende Deutung der Geschichte, in die er sich wie magisch angezogen hineinbegeben hat, die er aber am Ende des Buches weder bestätigt noch widerlegt findet. Er weiß nur eines: sein Weltbild ist komplett aus den Fugen geraten und er muss sich neu sortieren...
In seinem siebten, 2004 erschienenen Roman stellt der Schweizer Literat Marcus Werner erneut seine Meisterschaft unter Beweis, die ihm von zahlreichen Kritikern immer wieder bescheinigt wurde. Mit glasklarem, wiewohl nicht unbedingt eingängem Erzählstil, der eine magische Anziehungskraft ausübt und gleichzeitig Leichtigkeit und Unergründlichkeit ausstrahlt, nimmt er mit seiner Geschichte, die so schwer zu durchschauen ist und die man am besten ein zweites Mal liest, den Leser von der ersten Zeile an gefangen, macht ihn neugierig, dem Gedankenaustausch der beiden Männer weiter zu folgen, der immer wieder in scheinbare Verirrungen mündet und aus dem sich so viele Ungereimtheiten als auch merkwürdige Koinzidenzen ergeben. Misstrauisch geworden stellt er unwillkürlich seine eigenen Mutmaßungen an, die er in denen des Erzählers Clarin bestätigt findet, der so oberflächlich ist wie sein Gegenpart Loos tiefgründig.
Und allmählich wandelt sich die Anteilnahme, die man am Anfang noch vehement für beide, die lange Zeit einzigen, Protagonisten des Romans verspürt haben mag, in Unwillen, in Zweifel und gar Abneigung, vor allem Clarin gegenüber, der so sehr von seiner Art des Lebens, die eine eigensüchtige, nur aufs eigene Vergnügen zielende ist, eingenommen ist und der über eine Empathie verfügt, die man bestenfalls als rudimentär bezeichnen kann.
Doch auch Loos bleibt nicht von dem Entzug an Sympathie verschont, denn es wird immer augenscheinlicher, dass er ein Spiel spielt, dass er zu Gericht sitzt, dass etwas ganz und gar nicht stimmt an ihm und seinen Geschichten, die er, so sah es lange aus, immer nur stockend hervorbrachte.
Und dass es letztlich bei dieser Mutmaßung bleibt, bleiben muss, und dass die Geschichte mit einer nicht nachzuvollziehenden Handlung des Anwalts, der sich immer stärker als Dummkopf entlarvt hatte, endet, abrupt endet, ist gewiss ein unnötiger Schwachpunkt eines ansonsten vor allem sprachlich und strukturell anspruchsvollen und durchaus beeindruckenden Romans, von dem man zeitweise sogar den Eindruck hatte, er würde in einem Krimi enden, denn die Ingredienzien schienen vorhanden zu sein. Doch täuschte man sich, wie übrigens in so manchen Deutungen, in die man sich unwillkürlich verstiegen haben mag, zu denen Marcus Werner aber auch regelrecht einlud!
Doch alles kommt ganz anders, nachdem er auf der Terrasse des Hotels Bellavista in Montagnola auf einen gewissen Loos stößt, der, wie es der Zufall so will, ebenfalls auf den nicht ungewöhnlichen Vornamen Thomas hört. Nach einigen Mühen kommt Clarin mit dem sich sonderbar abweisend verhaltenden älteren Herrn schließlich in ein ebenso sonderbares Gespräch, in das er sich wie gebannt fallen lässt.
Bei zuviel Wein unterhalten sich die beiden Männer mit den komplett entgegengesetzten Ansichten und Lebenseinstellungen ganze drei Abende lang vor allem über die Liebe und den Zeitgeist. Was die beiden Männer aufeinander zutreibt, ist vorerst nicht klar, nur dass mit der Begegnung ein Aneinanderantasten, ein Lauschen, ein Aushorchen und gegenseitiges Belauern beginnt, das wird für den Leser bald sehr offensichtlich.
Der Ich-Erzähler Clarin hat dabei immer wieder das Gefühl - und der Leser mit ihm - , dass Loos, ein merkwürdiger Sonderling in den Fünfzigern, der sich als Altphilologe vorstellt und sich schnell als entschiedener und geradezu verbitterter Gegner all dessen entlarvt, das er als Zeitgeist bezeichnet und worauf er immer wieder aufs Neue und ausschweifend herumhackt, entlarvt, sicher verschroben, aber vielleicht auch verrückt ist.
Doch hat er, ein Witwer, eine sehr positive Beziehung zur Institution Ehe, die ihm immer eine Heimat war, und die Clarin seinerseits auf zynische Art ablehnt. Er sucht lieber das schnelle, unverbindliche Abenteuer, das Vergnügen in kurzen Affären, derer er sich schnell wieder entledigt, wenn er spürt, dass es ernster werden oder die jeweilige Frau sich etwa in ihn verliebt haben könnte.
Und so wie Loos besagten Zeitgeist scharf kritisiert, so sehr ist Clarin nicht nur darin gefangen, sondern lebt ihn gar mit Überzeugung.
Das Gespräch der beiden Männer gleitet bald in die persönliche Ebene hinüber - und damit kommt eine Frau namens Valerie ins Spiel, von der sich der smarte Junganwalt im Jahr zuvor am gleichen Ort getrennt hat und die bis zum Ende eine rätselhafte Rolle spielen soll. Zu eben jenem Zeitpunkt starb auch, wie sich schnell herausstellt, Loosens Frau, ebenfalls in Montagnola.
Immer mehr seltsame Parallelen tuen sich auf zwischen Loos und Clarin - und als ersterer nach dem dritten Abend aus dem Hotel verschwindet und Clarin feststellen muss, dass Loos gar nicht der wahre Name des neuen Bekannten ist, mit dem er so intensive und sehr persönliche Gespräche geführt hat, beginnt er endlich stutzig zu werden und nachzudenken - und kommt auf eine verstörende Deutung der Geschichte, in die er sich wie magisch angezogen hineinbegeben hat, die er aber am Ende des Buches weder bestätigt noch widerlegt findet. Er weiß nur eines: sein Weltbild ist komplett aus den Fugen geraten und er muss sich neu sortieren...
In seinem siebten, 2004 erschienenen Roman stellt der Schweizer Literat Marcus Werner erneut seine Meisterschaft unter Beweis, die ihm von zahlreichen Kritikern immer wieder bescheinigt wurde. Mit glasklarem, wiewohl nicht unbedingt eingängem Erzählstil, der eine magische Anziehungskraft ausübt und gleichzeitig Leichtigkeit und Unergründlichkeit ausstrahlt, nimmt er mit seiner Geschichte, die so schwer zu durchschauen ist und die man am besten ein zweites Mal liest, den Leser von der ersten Zeile an gefangen, macht ihn neugierig, dem Gedankenaustausch der beiden Männer weiter zu folgen, der immer wieder in scheinbare Verirrungen mündet und aus dem sich so viele Ungereimtheiten als auch merkwürdige Koinzidenzen ergeben. Misstrauisch geworden stellt er unwillkürlich seine eigenen Mutmaßungen an, die er in denen des Erzählers Clarin bestätigt findet, der so oberflächlich ist wie sein Gegenpart Loos tiefgründig.
Und allmählich wandelt sich die Anteilnahme, die man am Anfang noch vehement für beide, die lange Zeit einzigen, Protagonisten des Romans verspürt haben mag, in Unwillen, in Zweifel und gar Abneigung, vor allem Clarin gegenüber, der so sehr von seiner Art des Lebens, die eine eigensüchtige, nur aufs eigene Vergnügen zielende ist, eingenommen ist und der über eine Empathie verfügt, die man bestenfalls als rudimentär bezeichnen kann.
Doch auch Loos bleibt nicht von dem Entzug an Sympathie verschont, denn es wird immer augenscheinlicher, dass er ein Spiel spielt, dass er zu Gericht sitzt, dass etwas ganz und gar nicht stimmt an ihm und seinen Geschichten, die er, so sah es lange aus, immer nur stockend hervorbrachte.
Und dass es letztlich bei dieser Mutmaßung bleibt, bleiben muss, und dass die Geschichte mit einer nicht nachzuvollziehenden Handlung des Anwalts, der sich immer stärker als Dummkopf entlarvt hatte, endet, abrupt endet, ist gewiss ein unnötiger Schwachpunkt eines ansonsten vor allem sprachlich und strukturell anspruchsvollen und durchaus beeindruckenden Romans, von dem man zeitweise sogar den Eindruck hatte, er würde in einem Krimi enden, denn die Ingredienzien schienen vorhanden zu sein. Doch täuschte man sich, wie übrigens in so manchen Deutungen, in die man sich unwillkürlich verstiegen haben mag, zu denen Marcus Werner aber auch regelrecht einlud!
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