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Страдания князя Штерненгоха
В 1928 году, когда «Страдания князя Штерненгоха» впервые увидели свет, члены профсоюза чешских учительниц отказались от подписки на книжную серию «Плеяда», в которой была опубликована эта книга, поскольку «не покупают порнографию ради красивой обложки». Сам Ладислав Клима говорил, что его роман «в 10 раз реалистичнее и отвратительнее, чем Золя, в 10 раз фантастичнее, чем Гофман, в 10 раз непристойнее, чем Казанова, в 10 раз извращеннее, чем Бодлер, короче говоря – аморальность, хулиганство и безумие».
207 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1928
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About the author
Ladislav Klíma
52 books54 followersLadislav Klíma (August 8, 1878 – April 19, 1928), was a Czech philosopher and novelist influenced by George Berkeley, Schopenhauer and Nietzsche. His philosophy is referred to varyingly as existentialism and subjective idealism.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 84 reviews
August 6, 2022
Pocas veces la información de la contraportada es tan acertada como en este caso:
"Mezclando la reflexión filosófica de origen nietzscheano con un humor tan absurdo como negro y desafiante, Ladislav Klíma construye una novela gótico-satírica"Por lo demás, ha sido una lectura curiosa... solo curiosa. He sonreído algunas veces pero poco más.
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January 19, 2018The Sufferings of Prince Sternenhoch: A Grotesque Tale of Horror is like reading the diary of a deranged, eccentric, absolutely mad aristocrat from the late 19th century. I enjoyed the story more when I was later informed that it's part of a Czech genera known as a Romanetto, which essentially is a tale of the supernatural combined with quasi science; it predates sci-fi.
At first I couldn't seem to get into the grove of the story. Sternenhoch, with his oscillating journal entries that move between, hallucinations and madness to an utter joy of life and mental liberation, had annoyed me. Then as the pages were turning I couldn't help myself: it became comical. With its absurdist humor and Sternenhoch's deficiencies, I realized I'm reading an original, purely unique piece of literature.
Klima admired Nietzsche and was a philosopher himself; so, the book is filled with some beautiful, edifying philosophical lines and at other times pesudo-philosophical prattle, which is confounding. However, boredom is never felt when reading the Dostoyevsky-like psychological torment that Sterenhoch undergoes after his grotesque deed(!), which the reader will chuckle at. As the protagonist suffers, the reader cries with delight.
I would read it again, and again, and again. My future children will memorize it by the age of six and recite it for all posterity when all the books are confiscated.
At first I couldn't seem to get into the grove of the story. Sternenhoch, with his oscillating journal entries that move between, hallucinations and madness to an utter joy of life and mental liberation, had annoyed me. Then as the pages were turning I couldn't help myself: it became comical. With its absurdist humor and Sternenhoch's deficiencies, I realized I'm reading an original, purely unique piece of literature.
Klima admired Nietzsche and was a philosopher himself; so, the book is filled with some beautiful, edifying philosophical lines and at other times pesudo-philosophical prattle, which is confounding. However, boredom is never felt when reading the Dostoyevsky-like psychological torment that Sterenhoch undergoes after his grotesque deed(!), which the reader will chuckle at. As the protagonist suffers, the reader cries with delight.
I would read it again, and again, and again. My future children will memorize it by the age of six and recite it for all posterity when all the books are confiscated.
December 16, 2019
A hairless, squinty-eyed Prince of the German Empire feels inexplicably drawn to an aloof woman of the lower classes. He pursues her, marries her despite her general disinterest, and subsequent chaos ensues in which the woman, Helga, undergoes a series of transformations. Or does she. Is Sternenhoch simply mad or is he haunted by the spectre of his seemingly dead wife? The book turns into an increasingly bizarre journal kept by the Prince, documenting his attempts to free himself of the burden which he appears to have brought upon himself, one way or the other. Sternenhoch and his associates exhibit all the best amusing characteristics of weak-minded inbred aristocrats everywhere that we have all come to know and laugh out loud at. And yet he strives so hard at times to rise above his earthbound materialistic class to a higher spiritual plane, leading to some rather sublime passages, especially as the story approaches its denouement.
Following the novel in this edition is Klíma's text My Autobiography, which I found incredibly inspiring and life-affirming, and to which I will add another star, for it was indeed a 5-star read. That it was written when Klíma was the same age I am now made it all the more meaningful.
One note about this Twisted Spoon Press edition: I don't know if there were multiple printings or not, but the copy I read (from the library) is missing a chunk of 13 pages and suffers from a greater than excusable amount of typos and misspellings. Disappointing, but not nearly as much as it would have been if I'd purchased the book myself.
UPDATE: As Sander notes below, there is now a new edition!
Following the novel in this edition is Klíma's text My Autobiography, which I found incredibly inspiring and life-affirming, and to which I will add another star, for it was indeed a 5-star read. That it was written when Klíma was the same age I am now made it all the more meaningful.
One note about this Twisted Spoon Press edition: I don't know if there were multiple printings or not, but the copy I read (from the library) is missing a chunk of 13 pages and suffers from a greater than excusable amount of typos and misspellings. Disappointing, but not nearly as much as it would have been if I'd purchased the book myself.
UPDATE: As Sander notes below, there is now a new edition!
September 20, 2013
I had never heard of Ladislav Klíma until I went to Prague last December, and one night in a pub a Czech translator friend wrote the title of this book down in my notebook, in exchange for my recommendation of Svevo's Zeno's Conscience . I love discovering books this way, especially if it's from people whose intelligence and aesthetic judgement I trust. The next day I had to abandon my pathetic Kafka pilgrimage when it started snowing, and at some point I took refuge in the Academia bookshop on Václavské náměstí. While browsing the English section I found this book, and obviously bought it straight away.
Entering Ladislav Klíma's world is a deeply unsettling experience, and I am not just referring to the wild, grotesque and revolting imagery in this book. Learning about the uncompromising life he led, by choosing to live according to the philosophy he had embraced - influenced by Berkeley's subjectivism, by Nietzsche and Schopenhauer - is quite affecting in itself, or at least it was for me. Defying so consistently and unfledgingly all social conventions, to the extent of enduring extreme discomfort, poverty, loneliness, can be considered mad and brave at the same time, admirable and terrible and appalling, but is also a way to force the rest of the world to question their own choices, or lack of them, their own condescension and mental paralysis and conformism.
In a sense, The Sufferings of Prince Sternenhoch does just that. It uses the classic elements of the gothic genre, which in itself already provides the means to defy social norms and conventions, as well as bourgeois sensibility - horror, creepiness, disturbing characters, murder, ghosts, even wild sex - and subverts them all, at times subtly, at others wildly, outrageously, and blatantly, through the use of cynical and grotesque humour, by subverting readers' expectations, and by never making it quite clear how reliable the narrator is, whether events are actually happening, or whether they are just the main character's hallucinations. I kept thinking while reading it that Klima's motto while writing this book must have been épater le bourgeois , but by the time I got to the end of the book I felt it was not only that - rather, an attempt to invest stuffy nineteenth century literature with a gust of stormy, fresh air coming from the new ideas which were circulating around Europe at the time (the book was written in 1928). And this is why now, when even what must have felt like outrageously shocking scenes when the book was written probably have less of an impact on the modern reader, this book still feels very fresh, and young and untamed.
This, I think, is due to the rather disorienting subjectivism which underlies the book, and which poses basic epistemological problems to the reader (some people would say this makes it a quintessentially modernist book because of this). The problematic narrator (probably going mad and therefore unreliable, but whose writing has been heavily edited, as is openly acknowledged at the opening of the book, as if to pose this basic epistemological problem right at the outset) gives the whole narration a deeply uncertain footing for the reader, who can never be sure on what grounds he or she is standing.
Going back to Kafka, who famously wrote
Entering Ladislav Klíma's world is a deeply unsettling experience, and I am not just referring to the wild, grotesque and revolting imagery in this book. Learning about the uncompromising life he led, by choosing to live according to the philosophy he had embraced - influenced by Berkeley's subjectivism, by Nietzsche and Schopenhauer - is quite affecting in itself, or at least it was for me. Defying so consistently and unfledgingly all social conventions, to the extent of enduring extreme discomfort, poverty, loneliness, can be considered mad and brave at the same time, admirable and terrible and appalling, but is also a way to force the rest of the world to question their own choices, or lack of them, their own condescension and mental paralysis and conformism.
In a sense, The Sufferings of Prince Sternenhoch does just that. It uses the classic elements of the gothic genre, which in itself already provides the means to defy social norms and conventions, as well as bourgeois sensibility - horror, creepiness, disturbing characters, murder, ghosts, even wild sex - and subverts them all, at times subtly, at others wildly, outrageously, and blatantly, through the use of cynical and grotesque humour, by subverting readers' expectations, and by never making it quite clear how reliable the narrator is, whether events are actually happening, or whether they are just the main character's hallucinations. I kept thinking while reading it that Klima's motto while writing this book must have been épater le bourgeois , but by the time I got to the end of the book I felt it was not only that - rather, an attempt to invest stuffy nineteenth century literature with a gust of stormy, fresh air coming from the new ideas which were circulating around Europe at the time (the book was written in 1928). And this is why now, when even what must have felt like outrageously shocking scenes when the book was written probably have less of an impact on the modern reader, this book still feels very fresh, and young and untamed.
This, I think, is due to the rather disorienting subjectivism which underlies the book, and which poses basic epistemological problems to the reader (some people would say this makes it a quintessentially modernist book because of this). The problematic narrator (probably going mad and therefore unreliable, but whose writing has been heavily edited, as is openly acknowledged at the opening of the book, as if to pose this basic epistemological problem right at the outset) gives the whole narration a deeply uncertain footing for the reader, who can never be sure on what grounds he or she is standing.
Going back to Kafka, who famously wrote
we need the books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us.I feel that this is what this book is furiously attempting to do.
October 23, 2008
Don't waste your time.
January 20, 2021
Netrpěl jen kníže, ale i já.. jazyk zajímavý, krásná čeština, ale obsah bizarní, mnohdy až absurdně úsměvný
„Musíš se probrodit močálem nejnižším, abys dospěla k Záři Nejvyšší – jednou po milionech let; tento tvůj život je to nejnižší, – – a strašně musí skončit!“
„Musíš se probrodit močálem nejnižším, abys dospěla k Záři Nejvyšší – jednou po milionech let; tento tvůj život je to nejnižší, – – a strašně musí skončit!“
January 9, 2021
Helmut i Helga - typowa niemiecka rodzina. Historia od dawien dawna znana - miłość, zaręczyny, ślub, znudzona żona zdradza męża, który po odkryciu niewierności w szale ją zabija. I rzeczywiście byłaby to opowieść jak tysiące innych - gdyby nie to, że autorem jest Ladislav Klima. Klimova Helga więc to dziewczę paskudne - długa i cienka, że można się przestraszyć, o rysach zwiędłych i ospałych, wyglądająca jak trup przez mechanizm poruszany. Nawet ojciec nie ma o urodzie córki najlepszego zdania nazywając ją straszydłem i zgniłą poczwarą. Małżonka - księcia pruskiego także - wbrew jego mniemaniu - najurodziwszym mężczyzną nazwać nie można - “wysoki” na 150 cm, prawie bezzębny, łysy, poniekąd zezowaty i kulawy. Ale cóż, nikt nie jest idealny i nawet słońce ma plamy. Skoro z bohaterami Klima pojechał po bandzie, to i z samą historią nie mógł postąpić inaczej. Zatem po zamordowaniu przez męża Helga jak każdy normalny człowiek nie umiera - a przynajmniej nie do końca - jako duch będzie od tej pory prześladować Helmuta i powoli z każdym kolejnym dniem wprowadzać go w coraz większy obłęd. To już nie mała głupia świnka, dżdżownica, suczka - ta umarła. Narodziła się Demona! Bohater aby uciec od szaleństwa będzie próbował różnych środków i szukał pomocy w najdziwniejszych miejscach. W akcie desperacji kieruje się więc do cyganki, która za odpowiednią (nie)skromną sumę sprzedaje mu uzdrawiający Podex romanus - orzech, w którym znajdują się przerzadkie, tajemne składniki takie jak łajno żmii (koniecznie na kwiat paproci wydalone - inne nie posiada magicznej mocy!), łza gorylicy, pióro żaby, pochwycone w szklaną pułapkę promienie czerwonej planety Aldebaran. A wszystko to przepojone oddechem dziewicy, która urodziła już trzynaścioro dzieci - nie będąc przy tym przez mężczyznę tknięta! Żeby amulet zadziałał w całej swej mocy należy jeszcze, gdy gdy Demona się ukaże - na całe gardło wykrzyknąć zaklęcie - “Straszydło, do d*py mi skocz!”. Nadal nie działa? Krzycz głośniej! Wrzeszcz, aż się dom w posadach zatrzęsie! I wszystko ładnie, wszystko pięknie, ale Podex romanus to zwykły najzwyklejszy orzech. Nic więc dziwnego, że Helmut nadal szalony - i to w królika to w psa się przemienia. Merda wesoło ogonem, podgryza kostki pasażerkom w pociągu, a wszystko to przy akompaniamencie dźwięcznego “hau! hau! hau!”.
„Cierpienia księcia Sternenhocha” to nadzwyczaj oryginalna książka. Surrealistyczna, groteskowa, okraszona filozofią nietzscheańską. Klima nie stroni też od fragmentów prawdziwie makabrycznych i obrzydliwych - Edward Lee by mu pozazdrościł. Jednak całość jest przede wszystkim prześmieszna. Czy połowę czy ¾ lektury przeleżałam ze śmiechu na ziemi - nie jestem w stanie dokładnie określić. Gdybym na podstawie książki miała coś powiedzieć o autorze - to stwierdziłbym, że Ladislav Klima był bardzo wesołym człowiekiem. W dzisiejszych czasach zapewne byłby memem.
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„Cierpienia księcia Sternenhocha” to nadzwyczaj oryginalna książka. Surrealistyczna, groteskowa, okraszona filozofią nietzscheańską. Klima nie stroni też od fragmentów prawdziwie makabrycznych i obrzydliwych - Edward Lee by mu pozazdrościł. Jednak całość jest przede wszystkim prześmieszna. Czy połowę czy ¾ lektury przeleżałam ze śmiechu na ziemi - nie jestem w stanie dokładnie określić. Gdybym na podstawie książki miała coś powiedzieć o autorze - to stwierdziłbym, że Ladislav Klima był bardzo wesołym człowiekiem. W dzisiejszych czasach zapewne byłby memem.
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February 19, 2022
Líbí se mi, že přestože Klíma skrz svoje postavy zprostředkovává své filozofické myšlenky (důraz na individualitu, voluntarismus, subjektivnost), tak se nebojí tu vysokou laťku znenadání shodit, potvrdit své vlastní zařazení "groteskní romaneto". Ukazuje se, že vůle je ve snech a halucinacích rázem na holičkách, že proti zjevení mrtvé nakonec stejně pomůžou dvě babičky s klestím na zádech.
Čtenář si nemůže být jen tak vším jistým – pohled je určován téměř výhradně knížetem, postavy se hojně proměňují (Helga přímo turbulentním tempem) a hlavně – hodnoty a morálka jsou zde zcela jinde. Láska je nutně spjata i s nenávistí a hnusem, ďábel a bůh jako by představovaly také jiné role, peklo znamená spíš kýžený prostor. Vulgarismy působí spíš vznešeným dojmem, aristokratický původ se mísí se masochistickými procesy.
A hlavně – tíha svědomí, dorážení spáchaného činu, sny a halucinace. Ta hranice mezi realitou a fantastickou fikcí je čím dál víc tenčí, i čtenář je skoro přesvědčen, že Helga vskutku unikla. Ten chorobný strach na knížete působí fatálně – propadá alkoholismu, nechá se napálit okultními léčiteli, křičí na náhodné osoby, své botě (kterou považuje za kočku) odkáže dědictví, chová se jako pes či kočka. Uniknout šílenství není možné, nečekané zjevení narušují období relativního klidu. Třetí, již knížetem nepsaná část, tuhle patologičnost dovádí do extrému.
Notně podivné dílo, ale živé, konfrontující čtenáře s hnusy, jimž běžně nemusí čelit. A humor se taky najde, fakt že jo.
Čtenář si nemůže být jen tak vším jistým – pohled je určován téměř výhradně knížetem, postavy se hojně proměňují (Helga přímo turbulentním tempem) a hlavně – hodnoty a morálka jsou zde zcela jinde. Láska je nutně spjata i s nenávistí a hnusem, ďábel a bůh jako by představovaly také jiné role, peklo znamená spíš kýžený prostor. Vulgarismy působí spíš vznešeným dojmem, aristokratický původ se mísí se masochistickými procesy.
A hlavně – tíha svědomí, dorážení spáchaného činu, sny a halucinace. Ta hranice mezi realitou a fantastickou fikcí je čím dál víc tenčí, i čtenář je skoro přesvědčen, že Helga vskutku unikla. Ten chorobný strach na knížete působí fatálně – propadá alkoholismu, nechá se napálit okultními léčiteli, křičí na náhodné osoby, své botě (kterou považuje za kočku) odkáže dědictví, chová se jako pes či kočka. Uniknout šílenství není možné, nečekané zjevení narušují období relativního klidu. Třetí, již knížetem nepsaná část, tuhle patologičnost dovádí do extrému.
Notně podivné dílo, ale živé, konfrontující čtenáře s hnusy, jimž běžně nemusí čelit. A humor se taky najde, fakt že jo.
Jindy snad bych byl ten pohled snesl; ale dnes je můj organismus následkem životosprávy posledních dnů rozrušen, vyčerpán, málo odolný... chodil jsem pak tak trochu po čtyřech, říkaje při tom stále "hu, bu, hubu", – vzav si na klín svou botku, dlouho jsem ji hladil, mluvě k ní: "Čičiči, ty jsi můj malý, černý kocourek, viď?"...(s. 70)
Nedostatečně jsem se řídil podle rad psychopatologa. Zítra to napravím –
Čičiči –––
January 25, 2018
Celé mě to děsí a zaměstnává ještě teď. Nacházím v té příšerné krásné hrůze osobní význam celého příběhu. Bylo pro mě těžší číst delší části kvůli složitosti myšlenkových pochodů, na druhou stranu mě kniha obohatila o spoustu mně dosud neznámých slov a výrazů, použití je zde hojnější než hojné.
Něco takového nemohlo být napsáno s čistou hlavou, to by ale nemělo nikoho odradit. Mimoto, použité ilustrace jsou neskutečně zajímavým aspektem celé knihy.
Čtenářský zážitek vskutku ojedinělý.
Něco takového nemohlo být napsáno s čistou hlavou, to by ale nemělo nikoho odradit. Mimoto, použité ilustrace jsou neskutečně zajímavým aspektem celé knihy.
Čtenářský zážitek vskutku ojedinělý.
November 8, 2025
On je Bůh? Okayy😭 hodně zajímavá knížka, autor měl asi dost problémků
January 4, 2013
Dostoevsky meets Poe with some Xtra doses of goth, surrealism, absurdism, and grotesqueism for good fire. Sound good? Sounds great! On top of that, the aesthetics of this book by Twisted Spoon Press, I mean the layout itself, is outstanding---the cover, the artwork inside, the back cover which says nothing more than "Beauty is love kissing horror." Additionally, this edition includes Klima's essay, "My Autobiography" and a nice little afterword by Josef Zumr entitled "A Prince Longing for the Stars." And it's Czech...early 20th century. I can't go wrong.
But hold on. Those literary critics could write a couple of volumes on this book---that is, of its weaknesses: its all-too-obvious influences, its singular/mono-dimensional plot and characterization, its philosophical polemics pulling the narrative along. I don’t care so much about literary critics, but by halfway through the book this is what I was thinking …..feeling bogged down by all these points...thinking more about the obvious criticism rather than engaged and lost in the literary landscape.
But hold on again. I don’t know when it happened, somewhere in the early 100s, but the flip got switched. I think it started with the humor, but at some stage I started feeling my Baudelaire twitch all over again. The words and the ideas kind of stopped, there was no stage anymore, and I started getting beaten over the head. The writer himself seemed to be following his protagonist down some bizarre hole that squirmed and laughed and painted. And of course spread poo on Helga’s face, who could forget that?
Sure enough, after finishing the novel and delving into Mr. Klima a bit, starting with his own autobiographical essay placed in the text after the novel, I found I had another kind of Baudelaire on my hands. How did this happen? With Fyodor the long-time fave, Swedenborg and Baudelaire checking in over the last few months, Rimbaud, others, you’d think I’d have come across this guy as part of some logical connection or progression. But, no, this wild Klima fellow who spent the last third of his life living in a hotel, shining shoes, and eating “vermin,” just dropped in my lap. And as far as people living on the edge, he’s pretty high up on the bell. “Beauty is love kissing horror.”
My logical and critical eye will still admit the many limitations and weaknesses of this book. It isn’t a Flowers of Evil as far as elite technique goes, and for the first half of the book there were struggles, but by the end you sense a lovely energy from it. By the end I couldn’t help thinking, beyond all else, this is “charged.”
I don’t know really how this poop theme got started, but Klima is now on board so I’m not turning back. Yes, “charged” is exactly what I’m getting from this. And let’s think about it: What is it that gets the poop to exit out of your anus on a cold morning? Extra fiber? Technique (mastery)? Gravity? Biology Club? Or some inexplicable energy, “charge,” beyond us? I think Ladislav Klima pushes for the latter….
And when I get a chance to go back and read this again, it might find a fifth star.
But hold on. Those literary critics could write a couple of volumes on this book---that is, of its weaknesses: its all-too-obvious influences, its singular/mono-dimensional plot and characterization, its philosophical polemics pulling the narrative along. I don’t care so much about literary critics, but by halfway through the book this is what I was thinking …..feeling bogged down by all these points...thinking more about the obvious criticism rather than engaged and lost in the literary landscape.
But hold on again. I don’t know when it happened, somewhere in the early 100s, but the flip got switched. I think it started with the humor, but at some stage I started feeling my Baudelaire twitch all over again. The words and the ideas kind of stopped, there was no stage anymore, and I started getting beaten over the head. The writer himself seemed to be following his protagonist down some bizarre hole that squirmed and laughed and painted. And of course spread poo on Helga’s face, who could forget that?
Sure enough, after finishing the novel and delving into Mr. Klima a bit, starting with his own autobiographical essay placed in the text after the novel, I found I had another kind of Baudelaire on my hands. How did this happen? With Fyodor the long-time fave, Swedenborg and Baudelaire checking in over the last few months, Rimbaud, others, you’d think I’d have come across this guy as part of some logical connection or progression. But, no, this wild Klima fellow who spent the last third of his life living in a hotel, shining shoes, and eating “vermin,” just dropped in my lap. And as far as people living on the edge, he’s pretty high up on the bell. “Beauty is love kissing horror.”
My logical and critical eye will still admit the many limitations and weaknesses of this book. It isn’t a Flowers of Evil as far as elite technique goes, and for the first half of the book there were struggles, but by the end you sense a lovely energy from it. By the end I couldn’t help thinking, beyond all else, this is “charged.”
I don’t know really how this poop theme got started, but Klima is now on board so I’m not turning back. Yes, “charged” is exactly what I’m getting from this. And let’s think about it: What is it that gets the poop to exit out of your anus on a cold morning? Extra fiber? Technique (mastery)? Gravity? Biology Club? Or some inexplicable energy, “charge,” beyond us? I think Ladislav Klima pushes for the latter….
And when I get a chance to go back and read this again, it might find a fifth star.
March 24, 2021
Melodrama. V pubertě bych to pravděpodobně četla s rozjitřenými smysly. Dnes bohužel pro mě s vtíravou pachutí opakování. Aneb bipolární porucha v rukopisu Ladislava Klímy. Nicméně mi to nic moc nedalo. Kromě nutkání po polovině knihy přeskočit vždy pár stránek a ušetřit se oné výlevnosti plaček a horlivosti knížete.
Oceňuji krásný jazyk, ale na tu dobu asi určitý standard. Kdyby to nebyl Klíma a já k němu (ne)měla filosofickou úctu, snad bych ani nedočetla. A taky jsem čekala, jak to dopadne.
Oceňuji krásný jazyk, ale na tu dobu asi určitý standard. Kdyby to nebyl Klíma a já k němu (ne)měla filosofickou úctu, snad bych ani nedočetla. A taky jsem čekala, jak to dopadne.
September 7, 2020
awesome
February 4, 2024
Wanneer Vorst Sternenhoch zijn vrouw - nadat ze hun kind heeft gedood en van plan is met haar minnaar weg te vluchten - vastgebonden in een torenkamer heeft achtergelaten, wordt hij gaandeweg krankzinnig. Haar spook bezoekt hem namelijk af en toe om hem de stuipen op het lijf te jagen, af te ranselen en haar levensfilosofie uiteen te zetten, al is hij er eigenlijk niet zeker van of ze nog leeft of effectief dood is. Los van een inleiding over een gevonden manuscript en een reconstructie van het einde van Sternenhochs leven door de fictieve vinder / uitgever van de tekst, lezen we vooral het dagboek van de Vorst. Over het algemeen is deze roman een plezier om te lezen, bij momenten ook echt grappig; gepubliceerd in 1928 maar waarschijnlijk geschreven in 1904 en zwaar schatplichtig aan de decadente traditie. Het is alleen spijtig dat de metafysische filosofische discussies, met hun geleuter over Goden, het Goede, het Kwade, ..., mij met hun serieux echt niet konden boeien. Er mocht dus gerust een bladzijde of 25 uitgeknipt worden. 3.5/5
"Het was een van die ontzettend mooie winterdagen waarop de natuur, dood en toch levend, de indruk wekt een naakt, gegalvaniseerd lijk te zijn."
"Afzichtelijk is slechts dat wat we door het prisma van onze haat en walging zien."
"Het is al idioot genoeg wanneer iemand het over alcoholisme heeft en dat zelf nooit heeft meegemaakt tot in het laatste stadium; des te idioter is het als iemand het over krankzinnigheid heeft die daar zelf niet eens aan heeft geroken...!"
"Het was een van die ontzettend mooie winterdagen waarop de natuur, dood en toch levend, de indruk wekt een naakt, gegalvaniseerd lijk te zijn."
"Afzichtelijk is slechts dat wat we door het prisma van onze haat en walging zien."
"Het is al idioot genoeg wanneer iemand het over alcoholisme heeft en dat zelf nooit heeft meegemaakt tot in het laatste stadium; des te idioter is het als iemand het over krankzinnigheid heeft die daar zelf niet eens aan heeft geroken...!"
March 3, 2022
strnenhoch docela prasak 😜 na maturitu celkem wild, asi bych pred komisi nechtel rikat, ze ji tam maze hovna po ksichtu 😏💩 ale zase nechci kinkshameovat 💕❌❌ #safespaceforshitkinks
September 7, 2017
Naše profesorka češtiny nám přečetla úryvek, aby nás odradila od čtení této knihy. A polovina dámského osazenstva zvedla ruku při otázce, kdo by si knihu chtěl přečíst. Zajímalo mě, co může člověka tak znechutit, že knihu nedoporučí vůbec nikomu a co si mám představit pod pojmem šílenství. A přesně to kniha je. Nejdřív jsem knížete nesnášela, ale jakmile mu Helga zabila syna, začala jsem ho litovat. A moje lítost ho provázela i během toho, co na svoji ženu v hladomorně kálel nebo souložil s její hnijící mrtvolou.
A i Helgy mi bylo líto. Sňatek bez citu, jak kdyby byla pytel ovsa. A následně manželské povinnosti s člověkem, který nemohl nikdy vyvolat v ni lásku. Následně se objevil na scéně někdo, kdo neměl sice takový majetek jako její choť, ovšem měl něco víc. Něco, co ji nutilo podřídit se mu, snad si myslela, že je to láska. Ženám se často stává, že se nechají poblouznit muži a jednají iracionálně či zcela mimo svůj charakter.
Nechci vědět, jak Klímu něco takového napadlo, jaké měl pohnutky, aby dílo napsal. Ovšem musí se nechat, že romaneto je velmi čtivé, forma deníku tomu prospěla. A opravdu je to zvrhlé, nechutné, ale fascinující.
A i Helgy mi bylo líto. Sňatek bez citu, jak kdyby byla pytel ovsa. A následně manželské povinnosti s člověkem, který nemohl nikdy vyvolat v ni lásku. Následně se objevil na scéně někdo, kdo neměl sice takový majetek jako její choť, ovšem měl něco víc. Něco, co ji nutilo podřídit se mu, snad si myslela, že je to láska. Ženám se často stává, že se nechají poblouznit muži a jednají iracionálně či zcela mimo svůj charakter.
Nechci vědět, jak Klímu něco takového napadlo, jaké měl pohnutky, aby dílo napsal. Ovšem musí se nechat, že romaneto je velmi čtivé, forma deníku tomu prospěla. A opravdu je to zvrhlé, nechutné, ale fascinující.
June 3, 2019
Va a ser que no tuve paciencia, pero me aburrí como una ostra y eso que en este librino hay de tó: que si una loca ninfómana más mala que un dolor que fornica con animales y se cubre de joyas, que si un marido borrego que dice que sí, sí, sí, mi amor y no cae de la burra ni patrás, que si una secta super mala y lavacerebros y todo lo malo del ancho mundo junto, pero super atractivo también, no sé, será por aburrimiento, que si vejaciones a mansalva, que si fetos malparidos (literalmente), que si... Eh, no, no es Saw 146, pero lo parece.
January 8, 2019
Nejpodivnější z knih, minimálně si nic podivnějšího nevybavím.
Boj krásy a hnusu, božského a nicotného, v mysli pomatence. Stejně jako se střídá nálada knížete Sternenhocha střídá se i můj názor. Ale potkat Helgu, to stojí za to.
Boj krásy a hnusu, božského a nicotného, v mysli pomatence. Stejně jako se střídá nálada knížete Sternenhocha střídá se i můj názor. Ale potkat Helgu, to stojí za to.
September 1, 2022
The book has a very gothic style but with a good dose of sarcasm. It really conveys the feeling of distress and repugnance the prince feels towards Helga, his wife. Interesting also the autobiography at the end of the book.
November 21, 2022
The book is revolting. Don’t waste your time and brain cells, don’t read it. I’ll never be the same again. I’m highly disgusted and hate Klíma with my whole heart for writing this and ruining my life.
Read
December 21, 2023Klima is evidently a unique and extraordinary thinker/writer. One may read this as a kind of Kliman hagiography of Sternenhoch (the way the narrator of "The Brothers Karamazov" seems to attempt a hagiography of Alyosha). The white ghost of nihilism to be chased out by black hatred...the strange apocryphal/folk tale heretical reincarnation of Christ...I do not have to accept all of Klima's ideas to notice that there are parts of the trajectory to the full realization of "Will" that are similar to Dostoevsky's ideas: once black hatred has driven all out (the white ghost of nihilism) we get to a point where the boundary is thinned between opposites. Hatred is close to love, for example. Interesting to think about "Karamazovness" or Bakhtin's "dialogism" expressed here as the fluctuation between "madness" and "lucidum intervallum." Yet the individual never inhabits fully madness nor lucidum intervallum; in both states he as a writer is aware of himself as lucid or mad. The act/purpose of "writing" interesting to investigate here. Also interesting to think about the deferral of the "Tower." Like Raskolnikov's deferral of the various plots he opens up. Near the end I expected the deferral to be neverending, because an answer would collapse everything (interesting too how uncertainty is trounced by certainty only, at the end, to be trounced by uncertainty again, and then certainty once more!) but it is answered in a really Kliman way: a physical answer which is the same as if the opposite were true. Not a negation but an attempt at a poetic dialogism.
January 16, 2022
in other stories monsters and ghosts make people go insane, in this one, he just gets cucked
October 18, 2025
Odpad... Nic pěkného, jen nechutnosti a perverse
April 17, 2025
to były wyłącznie moje cierpienia
November 21, 2022
Opravdu jen pro nejsilnější žaludky. Po dočtení se mi fyzicky udělalo špatně. Opravdu NE! Pokud se někdo k této knize dostane, obejít obloukem. Nedělejte si to, nekažte si představy o českých autorech.
Někteří se o knize vyjadřují jako o zajímavém díle se zajímavým pohledem na svět. Jestli někomu přijde zajímavý pohled na rok hnijicí mrtvolu, dobře (možná trochu spoiler).
Někteří se o knize vyjadřují jako o zajímavém díle se zajímavým pohledem na svět. Jestli někomu přijde zajímavý pohled na rok hnijicí mrtvolu, dobře (možná trochu spoiler).
September 10, 2015
Ladislav Klíma. Infierno e infierno
Hay escritores cuya vida vale tanto como su obra, aunque sea por el simple motivo de que han hecho de ella, voluntariamente o no, parte de esta última. Ladislav Klíma sería uno de ellos. Su literatura es tan importante que ha sido reivindicado por escritores como Bohumil Hrabal o Milan Kundera, y su vida llegó a ser tan insignificante que, dicen, acabó comiendo gusanos y siendo el más pobre entre los pobres. El mismo año de su muerte, tuberculoso, apareció publicado Las desventuras del príncipe Sternenhoch, y ahora deberíamos decir que es su legado existencial o algo así. Pero no, por qué iba a serlo… Lo cierto es que su autor siempre estuvo más cerca de la filosofía que de la narrativa, y no es menos verdad que este libro es una conjunción absolutamente arrebatadora de ambas cosas. O de muchas. Porque el cóctel es abrumador. ¿Y el resultado? Muy divertido.
Con este título es inevitable que Goethe nos venga a la cabeza. Frente al espíritu romántico de Werther y la imposibilidad del amor, Sternerhoch es el espíritu grotesco y ya no la imposibilidad del amor, que también, sino sus peligros. El príncipe Sternerhoch es un grande. Seguramente el consejero más afecto al Emperador Guillermo, y un claro sucesor de Bismarck. En una de esas fiestas a las que se entrega noche sí y noche también, nuestro nada apuesto protagonista se encuentra con Helga (también conocida posteriormente como Daemona), una muchacha de diecisiete años (frente a sus treinta y tres) que le parece absolutamente horrenda pero por la que siente una extraña atracción. Al punto que se va a pedir su mano a su disparatado padre, el cual la muestra como el ser más despreciable del mundo, de modo que por él encantando.
El matrimonio se consuma, la primera noche responde a algún tipo de expectativa, pero, a partir de ahí, las puertas del infierno se abren para el príncipe: se acaba de casar con el demonio en persona. En fin, algo parecido. Al humor se le sumará, como decíamos, lo grotesco, y con él algo así como la novela gótica, con espina dorsal filosófica próxima al individualismo y a Nietzsche. El sueño, el sueño delirante, se convertirá en pesadilla, no menos delirante. No es que nuestro personaje estuviera muy convencido de sus actos, pero sus actos se han vuelto contra él. Nada le será ajeno en su caída y en su locura, y se entregará a los actos más disparatados, que incluyen la brujería. Klíma, desde su cómoda posición de escritor en descomposición (física), arrasará con todo lo que encuentra a su paso. El Imperio (impagable el retrato que hace del Kaiser), la nobleza (desde el propio Príncipe a su suegro, pasando por sus amigos y sus orgías), el amor (ese producto de desventuras cuando uno puede estar tan contento entre damas de gustos alegres y efebos), la medicina,… Todo.
La habilidad de Ladislav Klíma para entrecruzar todos estos elementos es asombrosa. Sin abandonar el humor, todo se va entrelazando para ofrecernos un retrato de una sociedad que llegaba a su final y de la que ya no se podía esperar mucho, más que se destrozara en alguna otra guerra. Quizás decir sociedad era demasiado, palabras mayores. El escritor checo vivió en sus propias carnes el signo de los tiempos, confuso y entrelazado de tantas cosas, y así escribió, con esa voracidad que solo pueden tener los muertos de hambre. Quién sabe si volveremos a encontrarnos con él. Lo editó Libros del Silencio, para más tarde desaparecer. De nuevo nuestro mundo que conocemos se nos antoja demasiado pequeño.
Escrito para Détour.
Hay escritores cuya vida vale tanto como su obra, aunque sea por el simple motivo de que han hecho de ella, voluntariamente o no, parte de esta última. Ladislav Klíma sería uno de ellos. Su literatura es tan importante que ha sido reivindicado por escritores como Bohumil Hrabal o Milan Kundera, y su vida llegó a ser tan insignificante que, dicen, acabó comiendo gusanos y siendo el más pobre entre los pobres. El mismo año de su muerte, tuberculoso, apareció publicado Las desventuras del príncipe Sternenhoch, y ahora deberíamos decir que es su legado existencial o algo así. Pero no, por qué iba a serlo… Lo cierto es que su autor siempre estuvo más cerca de la filosofía que de la narrativa, y no es menos verdad que este libro es una conjunción absolutamente arrebatadora de ambas cosas. O de muchas. Porque el cóctel es abrumador. ¿Y el resultado? Muy divertido.
Con este título es inevitable que Goethe nos venga a la cabeza. Frente al espíritu romántico de Werther y la imposibilidad del amor, Sternerhoch es el espíritu grotesco y ya no la imposibilidad del amor, que también, sino sus peligros. El príncipe Sternerhoch es un grande. Seguramente el consejero más afecto al Emperador Guillermo, y un claro sucesor de Bismarck. En una de esas fiestas a las que se entrega noche sí y noche también, nuestro nada apuesto protagonista se encuentra con Helga (también conocida posteriormente como Daemona), una muchacha de diecisiete años (frente a sus treinta y tres) que le parece absolutamente horrenda pero por la que siente una extraña atracción. Al punto que se va a pedir su mano a su disparatado padre, el cual la muestra como el ser más despreciable del mundo, de modo que por él encantando.
El matrimonio se consuma, la primera noche responde a algún tipo de expectativa, pero, a partir de ahí, las puertas del infierno se abren para el príncipe: se acaba de casar con el demonio en persona. En fin, algo parecido. Al humor se le sumará, como decíamos, lo grotesco, y con él algo así como la novela gótica, con espina dorsal filosófica próxima al individualismo y a Nietzsche. El sueño, el sueño delirante, se convertirá en pesadilla, no menos delirante. No es que nuestro personaje estuviera muy convencido de sus actos, pero sus actos se han vuelto contra él. Nada le será ajeno en su caída y en su locura, y se entregará a los actos más disparatados, que incluyen la brujería. Klíma, desde su cómoda posición de escritor en descomposición (física), arrasará con todo lo que encuentra a su paso. El Imperio (impagable el retrato que hace del Kaiser), la nobleza (desde el propio Príncipe a su suegro, pasando por sus amigos y sus orgías), el amor (ese producto de desventuras cuando uno puede estar tan contento entre damas de gustos alegres y efebos), la medicina,… Todo.
La habilidad de Ladislav Klíma para entrecruzar todos estos elementos es asombrosa. Sin abandonar el humor, todo se va entrelazando para ofrecernos un retrato de una sociedad que llegaba a su final y de la que ya no se podía esperar mucho, más que se destrozara en alguna otra guerra. Quizás decir sociedad era demasiado, palabras mayores. El escritor checo vivió en sus propias carnes el signo de los tiempos, confuso y entrelazado de tantas cosas, y así escribió, con esa voracidad que solo pueden tener los muertos de hambre. Quién sabe si volveremos a encontrarnos con él. Lo editó Libros del Silencio, para más tarde desaparecer. De nuevo nuestro mundo que conocemos se nos antoja demasiado pequeño.
Escrito para Détour.
October 27, 2020
Що за гонська книжка! і що за гонський автор!
і так і треба читати - і роман, і власний життєпис Ладіслава Кліми. останній не менш цікавий, ніж химерне, грайливе, трансґресивне, контркультурне творіння цього предтечі Всього.
раджу!)
і так і треба читати - і роман, і власний життєпис Ладіслава Кліми. останній не менш цікавий, ніж химерне, грайливе, трансґресивне, контркультурне творіння цього предтечі Всього.
раджу!)
October 10, 2018
Laced with black humour, The Suffering of Prince Sternenhoch is a Lascivious novel full of grotesque perversions that aren't everyone's cup of tea. I found it very helpful to learn more about the genre of Romanetto, which this represents, to avoid deep confusion. I find that the humour is easier to digest in the 2nd half of the book, after the initial shock of the book is over.
It is fascinating to follow Sternenhorch's descend into madness and trying to find his way out of the constant paradox, through the most grotesque acts of perversion - through which he finally finds his eternal light and bliss. I liked the way his wife's Helga, and Strenenhoch himself followed a similar pattern in their madness that is described by Sternenhoch in his journal entries. They both have a very specific way to explore and try to achieve a point in spirituality where they could be anything and nothing. This reflects into their paradoxical behaviour and train of thought where one moment they are a god and the next they are the lowliest work that can be easily crushed.
Still hoping he wouldn't have found his bliss through an act of necrophilia, I feel that it was necessary for the main character and the reader to have a satisfactory ending to it all. As a reader you are constantly quoestioning everything that you are being told to, and the last few pages are told in 3rd perspective which emphasized the finality of Sternenhoch and his madness, completing his arc very neatly, and first time giving the reader a feeling they can trust the narrative.
I very much enjoyed the shock value of it, and find it quite surprising that the book was written in early 1900's. The pseudoscience of the book was something that was driving me up the wall, as I had my theories of Sternenhoch madness that included chlamydia and delirium tremens.
The book has:
-racism
-bestiality
-necrophilia
-abuse
and possibly a lot of other things that slipped by me, as there was so much.
For a reader who has problems with reading certain fonts etc (edition: Twisted Spoon Press, 2008);
-font was easy to read with my dyslexic self.
-small issue i had was a printing problem where a couple of pages had some major shadowing, that made reading more laborious.
It is fascinating to follow Sternenhorch's descend into madness and trying to find his way out of the constant paradox, through the most grotesque acts of perversion - through which he finally finds his eternal light and bliss. I liked the way his wife's Helga, and Strenenhoch himself followed a similar pattern in their madness that is described by Sternenhoch in his journal entries. They both have a very specific way to explore and try to achieve a point in spirituality where they could be anything and nothing. This reflects into their paradoxical behaviour and train of thought where one moment they are a god and the next they are the lowliest work that can be easily crushed.
Still hoping he wouldn't have found his bliss through an act of necrophilia, I feel that it was necessary for the main character and the reader to have a satisfactory ending to it all. As a reader you are constantly quoestioning everything that you are being told to, and the last few pages are told in 3rd perspective which emphasized the finality of Sternenhoch and his madness, completing his arc very neatly, and first time giving the reader a feeling they can trust the narrative.
I very much enjoyed the shock value of it, and find it quite surprising that the book was written in early 1900's. The pseudoscience of the book was something that was driving me up the wall, as I had my theories of Sternenhoch madness that included chlamydia and delirium tremens.
The book has:
-racism
-bestiality
-necrophilia
-abuse
and possibly a lot of other things that slipped by me, as there was so much.
For a reader who has problems with reading certain fonts etc (edition: Twisted Spoon Press, 2008);
-font was easy to read with my dyslexic self.
-small issue i had was a printing problem where a couple of pages had some major shadowing, that made reading more laborious.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 25, 2020
this is a great horror tragic comedy. i laughed from the beginning till the end. the lunatic aristocrat is not trying to be funny in any of the chapters, but his actions or activities end up being hilarious. every time i came across "jump up my ass!", i laughed, the interactions betwixt the mad prince and kuhmist, harder than usual, and they reminded me of don quijote. hemlut and don quijote resemble each other a lot. reading this book is like reading an 'imaginary biography' of carlo gesualdo.
from his autobiography,
he disliked his parents almost to the point of hatred. he disgraced the crosses in the city’s environs, caused scandals in church. in a school assignment, he called the Habsburgs 'a dynasty of swine'. he was expelled form all the schools in Cisleithania, because of his behavior. after finishing one semester he immediately left for Bohemia, determined not to set foot in any school ever again and not to go in for any kind of career. he earned something on his own, but mostly his farcical, scandalous “career” amounted to nothing. Otherwise, all “earned” money stinks absolutely to high heaven, and all social work is an absolute disgrace – a necessary consequence of what he'd related from his childhood, of antagonism, of people loathing one another ... he could see himself living like Robinson Crusoe – or getting his money by stealing. he's consistently given any woman he'd met a little pat ... without ever getting slapped by a one of them or by any husband who happened to notice. he didn't even do this because it’s pleasant, but because he considered it a matter of good manners and etiquette – instinctively; as his Queen of the Nymphs says: “You uncultured lout, you see 30 beautiful women here and don’t have enough sense of honor to pat even one of them on the ass.”
from his autobiography,
he disliked his parents almost to the point of hatred. he disgraced the crosses in the city’s environs, caused scandals in church. in a school assignment, he called the Habsburgs 'a dynasty of swine'. he was expelled form all the schools in Cisleithania, because of his behavior. after finishing one semester he immediately left for Bohemia, determined not to set foot in any school ever again and not to go in for any kind of career. he earned something on his own, but mostly his farcical, scandalous “career” amounted to nothing. Otherwise, all “earned” money stinks absolutely to high heaven, and all social work is an absolute disgrace – a necessary consequence of what he'd related from his childhood, of antagonism, of people loathing one another ... he could see himself living like Robinson Crusoe – or getting his money by stealing. he's consistently given any woman he'd met a little pat ... without ever getting slapped by a one of them or by any husband who happened to notice. he didn't even do this because it’s pleasant, but because he considered it a matter of good manners and etiquette – instinctively; as his Queen of the Nymphs says: “You uncultured lout, you see 30 beautiful women here and don’t have enough sense of honor to pat even one of them on the ass.”
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