Merdivendeki Kadın

by Bernhard Schlink, Gül Gürtunca (Translator)

Bir kadın, bir erkek için her şey olabilir, yeter ki sevildiğini hissetsin… "Başı eğik, bakışları hüzünlüydü, sanki birileri onu inmeye zorluyor gibiydi, o da boyun eğiyordu. Sanki başta direnmiş, sonra direnme gücünü kaybetmişti. Sanki şefkat görebilmek için boyun eğmek, kadınlığını kullanmak ve özverili davranmak zorundaydı."Merdivenlerden inen bir kadının resmedildiği bir tablo… Onu ilginç kılan, kadının çırılçıplak olması değil, tavrındaki şiddet ve çekicilik, direniş ve teslimiyet karmaşasıdır… Tablonun sahibi olan işadamı ile yaratıcısı ressam ve bir avukatın yolu bu tabloyla kesişir… Üç erkek de tablodaki kadına, Irene'ye âşıktır. Üçü de kadını farklı sever: Biri süs bebeği, biri ilham perisi, diğeri de kurtarılmayı bekleyen bir prenses bulur onda.Ama Irene bunlardan hiçbiri değildir, aslında üç erkeğin de hayatının yenilgisidir… Ve günün birinde tabloyla birlikte ortadan kaybolur. Sırlarını da beraberinde götürür… Ancak yıllar sonra Avustralya'da küçük bir koyda bir zamanlar kendisine âşık üç erkekle tekrar bir araya gelir. rtık herkes geçmişiyle yüzleşecek, yarım kalan aşk hikâyesi belki de şimdi tamamlanacaktır.

Genres: Fiction, German Literature, Art, Germany, Literary Fiction, Book Club, Contemporary

232 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2014

About the author

Bernhard Schlink is a German lawyer, academic, and novelist. He is best known for his novel The Reader, which was first published in 1995 and became an international bestseller. He won the 2014 Park Kyong-ni Prize.

Reviews

[Valeriu Gherghel · Rating 3 out of 5]

Notez cu tristețe. Femeia de pe scări ar fi putut conta ca un roman bun dacă scriitorul ar fi evitat complicațiile rocambolești la care își supune personajele. E vorba de un tablou - de un portret, mai precis - disputat de doi bărbați fără minte (pictorul și bogătașul). Și mai e vorba de o iubire care se înfiripă între un avocat și o femeie, Irene Gundlach. Dar femeia îl părăsește fără nici o explicație.

Peste treizeci de ani, avocatul ajunge în Australia, descoperă tabloul într-un muzeu din Sidney, tabloul îi amintește de Irene, îi vine ideea să angajeze un detectiv, detectivul o caută și o găsește într-un conac părăginit de pe malul oceanului. Avocatul îi face o vizită.

Amîndoi sînt bătrîni, uzați, obosiți, femeia este și foarte bolnavă. Bărbatul îi va veghea ultimele zile. Și va povesti noapte de noapte pentru femeia muribundă, cu trupul ruinat, o viață care nu a fost, dar ar fi putut să fie (dacă Irene n-ar fi fugit cîndva de el). Înlocuiește, așadar, viața reală cu una alternativă. Urmează, deci, o narațiune contrafactuală. Este partea cu adevărat frumoasă a romanului. Ce s-ar fi petrecut cu ei dacă ar fi rămas împreună, dacă s-ar fi iubit?

Păcat de acest roman. Era să fie bun. Dar nu e. Și mi-e ciudă pe autorul lui.

Cîteva extrase:

„Tot răul spre bine, obişnuia să spună soţia mea. Poate că o fi tot răul spre bine. Dar e posibil şi ca răul să fie doar rău, şi atît”.
„Soţia mea obişnuia să spună că nu răul e opusul binelui, ci bunăvoinţa, şi avea dreptate. Dar opusul răului nu e reaua voinţă, ci binele".
„Nu mă interesa nici ce mă aştepta în Germania. Nu exista nimic la care să nu fi putut renunţa, nimic care să-i împiedice pe cei din jurul meu să renunţe la mine".

P. S. Critica germană a fost necruțătoare cu acest roman. Cineva a comentat sarcastic: „Er [der Roman] ist ein schönes Exempel ultraleichter Literatur”. Nu mai e nevoie să traduc propoziția...

[switterbug (Betsey) · Rating 5 out of 5]

A mergers and acquisitions lawyer in Frankfurt is asked by his firm, early in his career, to settle an odd dispute between an artist, Karl Schwind, and the wealthy businessman, Peter Gundlach, who bought Schwind’s painting, The Woman on the Stairs. This becomes an oscillating feud, with complaints that Gundlach defaced the painting and subsequently that Schwind cut it with a knife, as well as discord regarding the restoration. After we discover who the subject of the painting is, the plot progressively thickens. The unnamed lawyer/narrator becomes embroiled in a love triangle that ends in a cliff-hanger and affects him for the next forty years. Ultimately, this is a love story.

“’Maybe you’ll have to get older to become young. To find everything in a woman, to find it all again: the mother you lost, the sisters you missed out on, the daughter you dream of…We’re all those things when we are truly loved.”’

The story has a page-turning tempo, a mystery that, even when the first riddle is solved, continues to have unraveling consequences and thrumming questions. It is a book in three parts; the third part slows down as we sink our teeth more fully into the perceptions and philosophy of the lawyer and Irene, the woman in the painting. Throughout the narrative, the narrator is faced with unresolved issues about love and betrayal. “Is that how it is with things that don’t quite come to an end? But things do not come to an end, one has to bring them to an end.”

Along the way, perception about art, the art world, and the business world are examined, as well as the philosophy of possession. Within that, there’s a bit of a fairy-tale reference, too, such as Irene calling the narrator “my brave knight” mockingly, while she also criticizes her assigned female roles as trophy, muse, and distressed princess.

Schwind and Gundlich, even as the story opens, are established in their separate fields, but Irene still aims for an independent identity. The narrator, who has aimed for security and equanimity for much of his life, occupies a private restiveness, which is rooted in inexperience and blurry desires. Forty years later, he must reconcile history, change, redemption, and the difference between love as illusion or reality. The novel demonstrates that the life we dream, the one we live, and the choices we make coil together on the continuum of human experience. Existence is not finite, perhaps not even in death. Even the inanimate evolves. “Paintings don’t come to rest and neither do people.”

[Jeanette · Rating 3 out of 5]

For the first half I would have given it a 4. It's one of those "what's it all about Alfie?" puzzles or an allegory. I call these metaphysical and philosophy class fare with the usual Germanic cultural spins my "what's it all about Alfie" category. I'm sure some of you remember the song.

So the state of "human" here always carries the morose and linear "end" state forever in every second to minute stage of each individual's homo sapiens' cognition. Fatalistic spices are also heavily added by cup loads into the recipe, while the Scandinavian "joy" capacity aspects are at half pinch level quantities. They are never generously added at any point. Not even when he watches a beautiful harbor or lays on the grass and rests do you get other than "peace" or "tranquil thought"- not JOY! Remember this first, if you are interested in this book. Not a "smiley" face (even her laughter is "smokey") in 200 plus pages. Being "in love" becomes even more painful. All the downsides of vulnerability and REJECTION raise their heads. Egads, our pitiful narrator!

Others have related the plot tied to the painting of the descending woman. I will not. It borders on the ridiculous, flowing over to silly.

Suffice to say that Irene is NOT all womanhood. Because sooner AND later, it more universally than not, becomes all about her in this book. No other woman in the book mentioned ever gets a proper noun name. And thankfully, most real women and also most adult human beings don't think the 3 year plan of perfect retirement (taken at any age in life but followed by suicide or "disposal") is a plausible goal to enhance society. Nor do most women (like Irene) form their reactions and forward plans in primary light of a rejection for the roles they believe "their" men have put them into. Thank GOD! (Disclaimer here, because I would be at this juncture at least 4 years dead if the "good" retirement plan became implemented.)

There are quite a few quotes to ponder and list. But I won't. Not because I disagree with them, but because they are 90% residing in the thinker and "know better" of carefully learned formal philosophy, economics, and la-la land perceptions of 1st world sensibilities to "need". He writes these ideas in quivering and quotable style language quite well.

Some of the most poignant points reflex upon looking back in age as people feel that they are nearly "over" it. And how most of the surety of youth and youth's righteousness comes from having little to remember or regret from their own pasts. Or from just a lack of knowledge about conflicting fall outs. I'm not so sure about either of those concepts. Some of the "old" most certainly have forgotten all their own pitfalls and mistakes quite well, IMHO.

But it is worth the read. Especially if you like stark manipulation and the plots these complex mano de mano competitions tend to foster. This is absolutely one of those.

Because of the totally unrealistic sickness and death aspects within the story, I almost gave it a 2. But what can you expect from a man who admits he had three kids, now grown to adults somewhere, but never much handled a diaper. Any kind of diaper. 2.5 rounded up for the geographic placements.

[Coral]

I'm half way through and I don't really care to finish. You could basically call this "There's Something About Irene". All of these dudes come after this woman because of how she makes them feel about themselves, not because they give a shit about her. The only satisfying conclusion I can come up with is if she burns down her house with all three of these douchebags inside.

[Christina (A Reader of Fictions)]

Meh. Affairs and penis feels. Pass.

[Jill · Rating 3 out of 5]

Once upon a time in Germany, three men begin an obsessive love with the elusive “woman on the stairs”, Irena – the business titan Gundlach, the famed painter Scwind, and our unnamed narrator, an M&A attorney who represents Schwind.

I’ve started this review in a fairy-tale fashion because for me, this book read somewhat like an allegory. The premise it spins on is developed in the first 25 pages: Schwind is commissioned as a painter for Gundlach, the subject being his much younger wife. The wife leaves Gundlach for Schwind. Gundlach defaces the painting. Our narrator is hired by Schwind to negotiate a deal whereby Schwind would restore the masterpiece at his cost. While performing his duty, our predictable, rather dull narrator makes unpredictable choices when he falls in love with Irena.

It’s a tightly constructed premise and filled me with hope that the novel would unfold organically. But quickly, I ran into an obstacle: Irena, the nude, pale and blond subject of the painting, is not (pardon the pun) fleshed out enough to make me believe that she is so irresistible to these men, particularly to the narrator. Irena, a focus of the novel, believes she was forced into friendly packaging – the trophy, the muse, the damsel in distress. These roles, she says, make women predictable and interchangeable. And so she strikes out. My problem, as a woman, is that I don’t buy into the premise. We, as women, do have choice about the roles we embody and how we define them. Irena, as a fictional character can, of course, exert her own beliefs, but those beliefs would tend to distance the put-upon narrator, not draw him closer to her.

The theme that emerges is clichéd: we each need to embrace our authentic selves and take necessary risks, turning our back on the financial rewards of the corporate, cultural and legal worlds that entrap us. Bernhard Schlink is capable of better. For instance, he shines when he explores the narrator’s imaginings with Irena about what might have been, creating an alternative history. THAT is the Bernhard Schlink I know.

[Isabella · Rating 2 out of 5]

Meine Meinung

Für mich war „Die Frau auf der Treppe“ der erste Roman von Bernhard Schlink, ich bin durch eine begeisterte Rezension auf das Buch aufmerksam geworden und habe es sofort auf die Wunschliste gesetzt. Ein wiederaufgetauchtes Kunstwerk und eine tragische Liebesgeschichte - das klang nach einer reizvollen Mischung. Außerdem gehört Schlink seit seinem Bestseller „Der Vorleser“ ohne Zweifel zu den deutschen Autoren, die man zumindest einmal gelesen haben sollte.

Ich bin immer etwas zwiegespalten, was kurze Bücher angeht. Andererseits finde ich es, gerade wenn ich wenig Zeit zum Lesen habe, ganz angenehm, einen Roman in kurzer Zeit beenden zu können und nicht ewig an ihm „herumzukauen“. Andererseits fällt es mir bei Werken mit nur um die 200 Seiten oft schwer, richtig in die Geschichte einzutauchen und eine Beziehung zu den Figuren aufzubauen. „Die Frau auf der Treppe“ hat mir wieder einmal gezeigt, warum ich letztendlich doch immer wieder bei Serien und Romanen mit 400+ Seiten lande. Wenn ich mein Leseerlebnis mit einem Adjektiv beschreiben müsste, würde ich mich für „flüchtig“ entscheiden. Die extrem kurzen Kapitel haben bei mir den Eindruck von Oberflächlichkeit und Dahinplätschern noch verstärkt – bevor man Gelegenheit hat, in eine Szene einzutauchen, wird man auch schon wieder aus ihr herausgerissen.

Die Handlung konnte die Erwartungen, die der Klappentext in mir geweckt hatte, leider nicht so ganz erfüllen. Das titelgebende Kunstwerk ist mehr der Aufhänger der Story, und die variierenden Deutungen des Bilds durch den namenlosen Erzähler zeigen, wie er selbst und sein Verhältnis zur Abgebildeten sich wandeln. Meiner Meinung nach geht es bei diesem Roman allerdings gar nicht wirklich um Liebe, sondern eher um Männer in der Midlife-Crisis. Der Ich-Erzähler kann es nie verwinden, als junger Mann das „Opfer“ der Verführung einer Frau geworden zu sein, und Irenes Liebhaber und Ehemann sorgen sich ohnehin nur um die eigenen Egos, nicht um sie als Person.

Gegen Ende wird die Geschichte sehr tragisch, zu meinem Herzen konnte der Roman aber wie gesagt nie richtig durchdringen. Das hatte vor allem damit zu tun, dass mir Irene von Anfang an unsympathisch war. Ich hatte das Gefühl, dass sie es genießt, mit Männern zu spielen, und sich immer wieder ihrer Anerkennung versichern muss. Während der Ich-Erzähler bereit ist, alles für sie zu tun, nutzt sie – sie kann es drehen und wenden, wie sie will – ihm schamlos aus. Ich habe versucht, Mitleid mit ihr zu haben, fand sie jedoch zickig und prätentiös und ihr Verhalten in keinster Weise moralisch vertretbar.

Zum Ich-Erzähler ist für mich immer eine gewisse Distanz geblieben – die Tatsache, dass er nie einen Namen bekommt, hat dazu sicherlich beigetragen. Er war allerdings die einzige Figur, für die ich zumindest ein bisschen Sympathie aufbringen konnte, wobei Mitleid hier vielleicht azch das bessere Wort wäre. Der Rechtsanwalt hat sich immer vor seinen eigenen Emotionen gefürchtet und ist stolz darauf, sie perfekt unter Kontrolle zu haben. So ist er zwar beruflich sehr erfolgreich, brennt aber im Grunde nicht wirklich für seinen Job. Seine Ehe war „solide“, aber frei von jeder Leidenschaft, das Verhältnis zu seinen Kindern ist gelinge gesagt distanziert. Ich habe gehofft, dass er irgendwann erkennt, wie er sein Leben ändern könnte, doch ich war mir bis zum Schluss nicht sicher, ob es tatsächlich ein Aha-Moment gab. So gesehen ist „Die Frau auf der Treppe“ ein ziemlich trauriger Roman.

Ich kann durchaus nachvollziehen, warum Bernhard Schlink als Autor so geschätzt wird. Er wählt eine an sich eher schlichte und schnörkellose Sprache, die aber große Gefühle oft besser vermittelt als ein blumiger, auf-die-Tränendrüse-drückender Schreibstil. Der sachliche, wenig emotionale Stil passt zudem gut zum Charakter des Ich-Erzählers, der sich jeder Innensicht und Selbstreflektion verweigert. Ich müsste weitere Bücher des Autors lesen, um mir wirklich eine Meinung bilden zu können, aber in „Die Frau auf der Treppe“ hat mir sein Schreibstil insgesamt zugesagt.

Fazit

„Die Frau auf der Treppe“ konnte mich leider nicht wirklich berühren, obwohl die Geschichte am Ende unerwartet tragisch wird. Statt in eine Liebesgeschichte einzutauchen, hatte ich das zweifelhafte Vergnügen, mir die Midlife-Crisis-Probleme des namenlosen Ich-Erzählers anzuhören. Dass das Ganze durchaus gut geschrieben ist, konnte den Roman für mich dann auch nicht mehr retten.

[Digdem Absin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bir işadamı, bir ressam ve bir avukat… Üçünün aşık olduğu bir kadın Irene ve Irene’nin ressam tarafından yapılan resmi…

İş adamı Peter Gundlach karısı Irene’nin yağlı boya resmini yaptırır ressam Karl Schwind’e. Irene sonrasında Schwind için kocasını terk eder. Irene’yi geri almak için pazarlık unsuru olarak kullanır tabloyu Gundlach. Kadının bu ikisinden kurtarılması gerektiğini düşünen avukat devreye girer. Sonrasında Irene, tabloyu da alarak kayıplara karışır.

Otuz yıl sonra iş için gittiği Sydney’de bir müzede tabloyu görür avukat. Tablonun izini süren üç erkek ve Irene sonunda bir araya gelir. Bazıları için hesaplaşma, avukat için ise geçmişten gelen soruların cevaplanma zamanıdır. Avukat Irene’ye olan aşkını ve geçmişi sorgularken, kendi yalnızlığının ve insanlarla arasındaki duvarın farkına varır. Geçmişle hesaplaşma için çıktığı yol, kendini tanıma ve hayatını iyileştirme yolcuğuna dönüşür.

Beklentimin ötesinde, akıcı bir roman ve güzel, sürükleyici bir hikaye.

[Gaby Meares · Rating 1 out of 5]

I found this latest book from Bernhard Schlink tedious. I had high expectations as I found The Reader so moving and profound. This is neither.
I did not warm to the un-named narrator, who was unappealing: self centred, pedantic, a borderline stalker and ultimately unbelievable.
The woman on the stairs, Irene, was never fleshed out as a real woman and was a barely veiled device to drive what little narrative this novel had. What was the point? If I want existential angst, I will return to a master, such as Albert Camus.
The language was pedestrian - perhaps not a good translation? I couldn't say.
By the time I forced myself to finish this, I'd already forgotten how it had started, and frankly didn't care! At least it was short - but not so sweet!

[Alena · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm not quite sure what to make of this book. It was such an awkward start, with a young attorney involved in a ludicrous contract, falling immediately in love with a mysterious women. I had a very hard time buying into the storyline and never particularly liked the protagonist.

But there's something compelling about Schlink's simple and direct writing. I finished this in two sittings. And, in an unusual admission for me, this book finished stronger than it began.

Not sorry I read it, but I won't be quick to recommend. For my money, Stolen Beauty is the far superior read-alike.

[Metodi Markov · Rating 2 out of 5]

Отегчих се доста, историята в този роман имаше един заряд в началото си и съвсем друг в края.

Не ми станаха близки и ясни подбудите на героите, особенно тези на анонимния разказвач.

Харесвам много повече разказите на Шлинк, всеки един от тях е една самостоятелна Вселена.

В "Жената на стълбата" това му умение да ги създава някак се изплъзва и резултатът е незадоволителен за мен.

[Marisa Fernandes · Rating 5 out of 5]

Este é daqueles livros que eu tenho pena de não estar traduzido para língua portuguesa... Especialmente porque acredito que teria muitos leitores a gostar dele tanto como eu gostei.
Trata-se do penúltimo livro publicado por Bernhard Schlink, autor de "O Leitor", e contrariamente ao que é habitual na suas histórias, esta história não se centra na questão da culpa e do trauma alemão relativamente à Segunda Guerra Mundial e ao Holocausto.

"Die Frau auf der Treppe" ["A Mulher nas Escadas"] conta a história de três homens que estão interessados numa mulher, Irene, que está a descer as escadas numa fotografia (de 1992) que mais parece um quadro, "Ema" de Gerhard Richter (podem ver aqui: https://www.artgallery.nsw.gov.au/col... ), exposta na Art Gallery. O que ao inicio parece uma história de procura e descoberta pelo paradeiro de Irene evolui para uma bonita história de amor, que é tudo menos melodramática, e na qual o narrador, ao reencontrar Irene (doente) e a viver com outro homem, a acompanha(doente) até ao fim dos dias desta.

Mantendo um estilo de escrita claro e simples, sem ser simplista, Schlink brinda-nos com algumas passagens dignas de nota. Uma delas, por exemplo, relaciona-se com a questão da idade/juventude/envelhecimento e a fotografia e nessa passagem, por mim traduzida, pode ler-se o seguinte: “Eras também jovem, mas contigo eu não me senti velho. Eu sei, eu era mais jovem, e a diferença de idades era pequena. Mas isto não era tudo. Quando olho agora para a tua imagem (a tal fotografia “Ema” de Gerhard Richter), sinto-me outra vez jovem. (...) Deixei-te pintar naquele tempo para que permanecesses jovem e eu contigo.”

Gostei mesmo muito. E voltarei certamente a Schlink muito em breve!

[Lobstergirl · Rating 2 out of 5]

An emotionally distant lawyer who was never able to fully love his wife and children learns life lessons from a dying woman whom he pursued unsuccessfully four decades before. Weirdly though, the dying woman is a former terrorist who left her marriage and toddler for no good reason, so it's not clear why we should find her life exemplary.

The author had a grammar problem: "...he rode with my wife and I to the hospital.." which nearly caused me to throw the book across the lawn.

[Guylou (Two Dogs and a Book) · Rating 4 out of 5]

📚 Hello Book Friends! A friend recommended THE WOMAN ON THE STAIRS by Bernhard Schlink. It is a wonderful story about one painting, one woman, and three men who loved her. The book is written in the voice of one of the men. It starts with the man coming across the painting by chance in a museum and will lead you through time to discover what happened to it and the woman painted on it. It is a beautiful ode to love. The book is lovely and bittersweet.

#bookstadog #poodles #poodlestagram #poodlesofinstagram #furbabies #dogsofinstagram #bookstagram #dogsandbooks #bookishlife #bookishlove #bookstagrammer #books #booklover #bookish #bookaholic #reading #readersofinstagram #instaread #ilovebooks #bookishcanadians #canadianbookstagram #bookreviewer #bookcommunity #bibliophile #thewomanonthestairs #bernhardschlink #bookreview

[Clara · Rating 4 out of 5]

3-4 Sterne (Ich plädiere stark für die Einführung einer Sechs-Sterne-Skala)

Ein Roman, der sich lesen lässt! Ab und an muss man schmunzeln, ein zwei Mal ein Tränchen verdrücken (naja, ich zumindest).

Im Mittelpunkt der Geschichte steht die Liebe des Ich-Erzählers zu Irene.
Er liebte sie, nach eigenen Angaben, schon nachdem er sie flüchtig und als junger Mann „kennenlernte“ (=gesehen und für hübsch befunden). Daraufhin träumt er davon, seine gesamten Vorstellungen von Liebesbeziehungen mit Irene zu verwirklichen, ohne sie jemals in diese Pläne einzuweihen. Als sie verschwindet und sich nie mehr meldet, ist er zutiefst verletzt.
Als alter Mann findet er Irene wieder und während ihrer letzten gemeinsamen Tagen scheint es, als liebe sie ihn fast zurück.
Dass es blöd ist, zu meinen, die Zuneigung einer Frau (mit der man nicht einmal eine Beziehung führt) stehe einem zu, nur weil man moderat nett war, ist gewiss.
Dieser Denkfehler fällt dem Hauptcharakter sogar selber auf, als er im Alter anfängt sich und sein Leben zu hinterfragen.
Darum ist das auch garnicht so störend.
Ich persönlich stehe aber nicht auf diese Art Liebesgeschichten.
Man trifft sich jung und verliert sich aus den Augen. Aber im Alter da findet man sich und die Liebe entfacht erneut, als seien beide im Wesen noch die selben Menschen, wie vor vielen Jahren. Als hätte man alles, was in der Zwischenzeit passiert ist, nur zur pflichtbewussten Überbrückung getan: Kinder, Ehen, Beruf. Das finde ich unsympathisch und unromantisch. Die Einseitigkeit seiner Liebe, macht es nur schwerer zu lesen.

Natürlich geht es in dem Roman um mehr, als nur die Liebesgeschichte weshalb er insgesamt ein schöner ist.

Ansonsten musste ich beim Lesen schon manchmal “ok boomer” denken. Aber da Bernhard Schlink Boomer ist, finde ich das nur fair.

Edit: soeben hat mich meine Mutter aufgeklärt, dass Bernhard Schlink tatsächlich ziemlich alt und gar kein Boomer ist. Das ist mir natürlich höchst unangenehm und ich entschuldige mich fürs Fake-News-Spreaden.

[Vasileios · Rating 3 out of 5]

https://www.vintagestories.gr/i-gynai...

Η γυναίκα στη σκάλα (εκδόσεις Κριτική, 2016) του Bernhard Schlink είναι μια ιστορία έρωτα και συνεχούς διεκδίκησης του, πάνω απ’ όλα όμως είναι μια ιστορία ολοκλήρωσης.

Όλα περιτριγυρίζονται γύρω από έναν πίνακα, όπως και στο αριστουργηματικό Πορτραίτο του Ντόριαν Γκρέι (εκδόσεις Μίνωας, 2014) του Όσκαρ Ουάιλντ, αλλά και στο Απαραίτητο φως (εκδόσεις Ίκαρος, 2013) της Ντορίνας Παπαλιού, ένα από τα σύγχρονα ελληνικά μυθιστορήματα που είχα ξεχωρίσει για την ποιότητα και την ενδιαφέρουσα γραφή του.

Η γυναίκα στη σκάλα, ένας διάσημος πίνακας που δίνει και τον τίτλο στο βιβλίο, είναι χαμένος για αρκετά χρόνια. Η ξαφνική εμφάνισή του στην πινακοθήκη του Σύδνεϋ θα οδηγήσει την Ιρένε ―τη γυναίκα του πίνακα― αλλά και τους τρεις άνδρες που αγάπησε και πρόδωσε στον επαναπροσδιορισμό της σχέσης τους.

Συνέχεια > https://www.vintagestories.gr/i-gynai...

[Greg Barron · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Woman on the Stairs is very easy to read, with short, sharp chapters and nary a loose word from start to finish. I was half way through before I realised that I wasn't just reading a fast and easy mystery, but a work of genius. My only negative was a slightly unconvincing portrayal of coastal NSW, though he managed Sydney quite well.

I'm still thinking about The Woman on the Stairs, twenty-four hours after I finished it.

[Lamiya Goycayeva · Rating 3 out of 5]

Bəzən sizə elə gəlmirmi ki, Allah bizim xoşbəxtliyimizə həsəd apardığı üçün onu məhv edir?

http://bluefox.blog/2020/11/03/bernha...

[Kirsty · Rating 2 out of 5]

Like many readers, I very much enjoyed Bernhard Schlink's The Reader when I read it quite some time ago. For some reason, however, I had not picked up any of his other books in the intervening years. The Woman on the Stairs, first published in German in 2014 and in English translation by Joyce Hackett and Bradley Schmidt in 2016, is described as 'a tale of obsession, possession and a mystery painting', and its description certainly intrigued me enough to buy it.

Just as mysteriously as a painting disappeared, it is found again, donated anonymously to a gallery in Sydney. At this revelation, 'the art world is stunned but so are the three men who loved the woman in the painting, the woman on the stairs.' These men, one after another, manage to track her down to a dilapidated cottage on an isolated headland near Sydney. 'Here they must try to untangle the lies and betrayals of their shared past - but time is running out.'

I did enjoy some of the descriptions in The Woman on the Stairs. Schlink describes the painting like so: 'A woman descends a staircase. The right foot lands on the lower tread, the left grazes the upper, but is on the verge of its next step. The woman is naked, her body pale; her hair is blonde, above and below; the crown of her head gleams with light. Nude, pale and blonde - against a grey-green backdrop of blurred stairs and walls, the woman moves lightly, as if floating, towards the viewer. And yet her long legs, ample hips, and full breasts give her a sensual weight.'

The Woman on the Stairs is told using very short chapters, the majority of which consist of just two or three pages. The prose here did not grab me at all; I found it rather matter-of-fact, and consequently, some of the chapters felt rather dull. The plot was flimsy and stretched in places, particularly given the space in the novel which was devoted to certain elements. The narrator of the piece, a self-important lawyer, did not feel realistic. Despite the first person perspective, there was a sense of detachment and impersonality throughout. The pace also felt problematic; it plods along from one chapter to the next, and nothing about it was particularly interesting. I did not connect in the slightest with either the characters or the slowly ensuing story.

There is often no distinction between past and present here, and consequently, the book becomes rather muddled. I found that there is barely any depth within The Woman on the Stairs; it is rather a superficial novel. Indeed, there is barely anything else within the plot which is not suggested or baldly stated in the blurb. The love story element, which was horribly inevitable, is wildly overblown, and highly rushed.

Whilst I was impressed with The Reader, there seems to be very little, if any, of the power which suffuses its plot and pages in this particular tome. In fact, if I were to read both The Woman on the Stairs and The Reader without knowing which was the earlier book, I would select the former; it feels unpolished, and almost as though it is a first draft. I found the novel lacklustre, and whilst I did not expect to enjoy it as much as I did The Reader, I still expected that it would be well written, taut, and poignant. Unfortunately, none of these are words which I would use describe the novel. The prose is too plodding, and the dialogue offered very little, no matter which character was speaking. There is no emotion here, and I have come away from the novel wondering why I bothered to read it in its entirety.

[Patricia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Eigentlich sind es eher 2.5 Sterne, denn die erste Hälfte des Romans hat mir wirklich sehr gut gefallen, die zweite dafür überhaupt nicht. Leider bin ich einfach kein Bernhard Schlink Fan und kann mich mit der Art, wie er eine Geschichte erzählt, irgendwie nicht anfreunden. Die beiden Hauptfiguren fand ich unfassbar unsympathisch, konnte ihre Entscheidungen nicht nachvollziehen und am Ende war die Auflösung für mich nicht zufriedenstellend. Es gibt zu viele offene Fragen, auf die ich gerne eine Antwort gehabt hätte. Aber die Geschichte rund um das Gemälde und wie es nach Sydney kam, hat mich absolut begeistert!

[Tanja Petkovska · Rating 3 out of 5]

Убаво почна, фино тераше некаде до половина. Потоа отиде во длабокото...

[Ricarda Küper · Rating 3 out of 5]

Die Idee ist ganz süß und auch der Schreibstil gefällt mir. Allerdings konnte ich in der Kürze des Buches keine besondere Nähe zu den Protagonist*innen aufbauen, sodass mich die emotionalen Höhepunkte doch recht kalt ließen.

[Ivana · Rating 5 out of 5]

ovo mu definitivno nije najbolja knjiga, ali ima momenata zbog kojih moram da dam pet zvezdica. prosto, šlink je moj čovek, on mene razume

[Marija Milošević · Rating 3 out of 5]

Solidan, za mene uvek dobar.

[Lila Gloria Fernández de Castro · Rating 3 out of 5]

Es una novela entretenida,te pasas un buen rato,está bien escrita aunque el argumento es muy poco creíble.

[jules · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ich bin so begeistert und erstaunt, wie ich zufällig über den grandiosen Autor Schlink gestolpert bin. Er trifft genau meinen Geschmack.
Nun zu dem Buch: Der Anfang hat mich sehr gecatcht, das Ende hingegen hat sich gezogen. Ich liebe die Persönlichkeit von Irene - auch, wenn ich sie nicht sympathisch finde, ist sie eine der vielschichtigsten Büchercharaktere, die ich kenne. Auch die Tatsache, dass es nie eine Erwähnung des Namens des 'Anwalts' gibt, ist mega! Anscheinend steckt in diesem Werk auch etwas autobiografisches, das muss ich aber nochmal nachlesen.
Jedenfalls hat mich das Ende sehr enttäuscht, es ist nicht direkt offen, aber so abrupt und unausgeführt, deshalb gibt es auch nur vier Sterne.

Meine Lieblingsstellen: (und puh davon gab es einige!!)

"Es gab nichts, auf das ich nicht verzichten konnte, nichts, bei dem man nicht auf mich verzichten konnte. Bei allem, was vor mir lag, war ich ersetzbar. Nicht ersetzbar war ich nur bei dem, was hinter mir lag." (S.9)

"Zum Jungsein gehört das Gefühl, alles könne wieder gut werden, alles, was schiefgelaufen ist, was wir versäumt, was wir verbrochen haben. Wenn wir das Gefühl nicht mehr haben, wenn Ereignisse und Erfahrungen unwiederbringlich werden, sind wir alt. Ich habe das Gefühl nicht mehr." (S.24)

"Sie haben noch nie geliebt, nicht wahr? Vielleicht müssen Sie älter werden, um jung zu werden." (S.24)

"Er sah es mir an, lachte, nahm wieder meinen Arm und führte mich zurück ins Foyer. 'Nehmen Sie's mir nicht übel, aber Juristen sind oft ein bisschen gewöhnlich. Ich merke mir, wenn ich einen treffe, der sich ungewöhnlichen Herausforderungen stellt.' " (S.29)

"Plötzlich erschienen mir die Rituale, denen ich beim Arbeiten und beim Heimkehren und beim Aufbrechen und in meiner Freizeit folgte, als das Einzige, was mein Leben zusammenhielt." (S.35)

"Das Durcheinander von Gewalt und Verführung, Widerstand und Hingabe machte mich verlegen." (S.37)

"Ändern lässt sich an der Vergangenheit nichts mehr. Damit habe ich schon lange meinen Frieden gemacht. Nur schwer mache ich meinen Frieden damit, dass die Vergangenheit immer wieder keinen rechten Sinn macht. Vielleicht hat jedes Schlechte ein Gutes. Aber vielleicht ist jedes Schlechte auch nur schlecht." (S.69)

"In der Ferne machten zwei Schiffe Fahrt und schienen doch nicht vom Fleck zu kommen." (S.81) -> generell die ganze Fleck-Metapher DER WAHNSINN!!!!!

"War es Verachtung, Abweisung, Müdigkeit? Dass man, wenn man sehr müde ist, sagt, man sei todmüde, fiel mir ein, und dass man, wenn man todmüde ist, doch voller Leben ist, und wenn man lebensmüde ist, schon dem Tod nahe." (S.95)

"Ich konnte auch den Atem des Hauses nicht hören. Es war eine eigentümliche Unruhe im Haus, als halte Irene Hände und Beine nicht still, als wälze Gundlach sich im Bett, als murmele Schwind im Schlaf und gehe der Pilot im Zimmer rauchend auf und ab. Als zittere das Haus, nicht vom Wind oder einem Beben geschüttelt, sondern unter der Last der Beherbergung der unverträglichen Menschen. Ich lag ganz still." (S.167)

"(...) und dass müde Schönheit doch Schönheit bleibt." (S.210)

"Meine Hände fühlten ihre Haut; sie war wie seidiges Papier, weich, trocken, ein bisschen spröde." (S.211)

" 'Mach dir keine Gedanken. Wenn Leute von der Welt reden, reden sie meistens von sich. Vielleicht kann ich nur nicht ertragen, dass es mit mir zu Ende geht, ohne dass es auch mit der Welt zu Ende geht. Komm!' " (S.224)

"(...) Es ist einfach schön, liegen zu dürfen. Liegen und schlafen und sterben. Erzählst du mir etwas?' " (S.225)

DAS ZWEITE MAL GELESEN:
Schlink enttäuscht hier einfach nicht. Ich LIEBE die Dynamik zwischen Irene und dem Anwalt!!! Es kamen auch zwei neue Buchpassagen in meiner Liste dazu:

"Immer wenn ich in einem fremden Land bin, frage ich mich, ob ich hier glücklicher wäre. Wenn ich durch die Straßen laufe und an einer Ecke Menschen zusammenstehen und reden und lachen sehe, denke ich, wenn ich hier lebte, stünde ich jetzt auch fröhlich mit anderen an dieser Ecke. [...] Und wenn an den Abenden die Lichter in den Fenstern angehen! Jedes Fenster verspricht zugleich Freiheit und Geborgenheit, Freiheit vom alten Leben und Geborgenheit in einem neuen." (S.71f.)

"Manchmal sehe ich meinen nackten Körper im Spiegel und habe Mitleid mit ihm. Was er alles erlebt, wie er sich angestrengt, wie er sich abgeplagt hat! Ich habe kein Selbstmitleid, das verachte ich. Das Mitleid galt nicht mir, sondern meinem Körper. Oder dem Vergehen überhaupt." (S.117)

[Deborah (debbishdotcom) · Rating 4 out of 5]

The early part of this novel by Schlink unfolds across two timeframes. We're there as our narrator comes across Woman on Staircase in the Art Gallery of New South Wales. The painting comes as a surprise as the last time the man saw it he was representing its painter and in love with its subject.

As a young lawyer in Germany, our unnamed narrator meets painter Karl Schwind and his mistress Irene Gundlach. Schwind's seeking access to the picture of Irene from Peter, Irene's estranged husband (who commissioned the painting while they were still married) in order to repair various faults.

Things end badly and many years pass. Our narrator is widowed with grandchildren when work brings him to Sydney. And to the gallery where he sees Schwind's painting for the first time in many decades. Wondering how it came to be there, our narrator tracks down its owner - discovering Irene, now Irene Adler living on a remote (and fictitious) cove off the Australian coast.

Irene's obviously unwell and ailing but is unsurprised by our narrator’s arrival. It seems incredibly fortuitous but the inclusion of her painting in the high profile exhibition brings all players together as Karl Schwind and Peter Gundlach also descend on Irene's refuge almost half a century after they last crossed paths.

Although Irene and the affect she has on those around her is the subject of this book by Schlink, it’s very much about our narrator; and it’s through his relationship with Irene (then and now) that we come to understand him.

And (be warned) he’s not always particularly likeable. The novel’s written in first person from his point of view, so we’re privy to his every thought… including his lack of sympathy and empathy for others.

At times our narrator was so unlikeable, so self-absorbed and emotionally-stunted that it would be easy for readers to disengage. But the self-reflection, earnestness and sense of regret Schlink invests in him means the hope of redemption remains.

Moving at quite a slow pace, the unfolding plot of this novel was intriguing rather than gripping. It’s beautifully written (and translated) however and offers up an unsentimental study of self-reflection and regret.

Read the full review on my site: http://www.debbish.com/books-literatu...

[Chris Chapman · Rating 2 out of 5]

How comfortable are you with stereotypical characters? This appears to be the question Schlink is asking. The business magnate who can't accept that money can't buy everything, even the woman he is in love/obsession with. The controlling, ambitious artist, who can't let go of his pieces. The enigmatic, beautiful woman, drawn to these men who radiate power, and yet not allowing herself to be possessed. And most stereotypical of all, the love triangle that these people inhabit.

It might not matter, because the book is really about the lawyer, who is asked to draw up a contract that is supposed to resolve this triangle. But he's also a stereotype, as the enigmatic woman announces. "My brave knight", she calls him.

It's also about art. Can a painting replace a woman? If a woman will not let herself be owned, can a painting of her be a substitute? Who should art belong to? What happens when the rich own paintings and don't allow them to be displayed? And finally, a musing on capitalism itself, the power that money makes possible, the process of everything becoming buyable. Fine art is of course the most extreme example of that (and that is another cliché).

The lawyer, despite being a stereotype, is a compelling character. "My feeling of guilt wasn't about any one thing. It was like angst, although there was nothing to fear; sadness, although nothing had happened. It was a physical sensation, and although I said to myself that the body can only feel good or bad, but not guilty, it was a feeling of guilt." This rang very true for me, as did his gradual realisation of the emotional desert his life had been. The beginning is gripping, and the ending interesting, with its switching between reality and a tricksy alternative history that the laywer makes up for him and the woman.

But in the end I didn't feel that the book escaped from the dead weight of these stereotypes. Were they all intentional? If so it was hard to understand what the point of Kari was, an Aboriginal boy who turns up at unexpectedly, often when enigmatic painting woman needs him to protect her, barely speaks a word, apparently uneducated but always understanding instinctively what is going on. This was the most grating, tired stereotype of all and one I couldn't just file away in my mind as one of the tricks Schlink creates to frame the themes he is really interested in.

[Luisa Marie]

Meine Mutter übergab mir dieses Buch, nachdem sie es in der Mitte abgebrochen hatte. Genervt mistete sie es aus, denn sie wollte ihm keinen Platz in ihrem Bücherregal einräumen. Von ihrer Abwertung negativ beeinflusst, landete das Buch bei mir zunächst in einem hohen Bücherstapel und verstaubte dort. Ich kramte es Monate später für eine Urlaubsreise wieder hervor, weil ich auf der Suche nach einer leichten Zuglektüre war. Auch ein Rezensent der ZEIT beschreibt den Roman in mitleidigem Tonfall als "ultraleicht". Ich tat mir in der ersten Hälfte schwer, die vorschnellen Urteile zu ignorieren, fand mich aber stetig im Bann von Schlink und konnte das Buch schließlich nicht mehr aus der Hand legen. Als ich gestern das Buch abschloss und gerührt und nachdenklich auf dem Lesesessel innehielt, erzürnte ich über das Urteil des Rezensenten, denn wie mit vielen Dingen ist nunmal das Schöne oft sehr einfach.
"Die Frau auf der Treppe" ist ein kluges Buch, das rückschauend Eindrücke in zwei Lebensentwürfe gibt, die unterschiedlicher nicht sein könnten. Im Spannungsfeld stehen Gefühl und Verstand, Leidenschaft und Kälte, Beharrlichkeit und Flucht, Freiheit und Enge. Ein verlebtes Leben und ein ungelebtes Leben treffen aufeinander, produzieren Reibung, Anziehung, Abstoßung, aber auch Einsicht.
Ich fand mich zwischen beiden Polen wieder und war wechselseitig von den zwei Extremen angezogen und abgestoßen. Vor allem schreckten mich die Aussagen des Ich-Erzählers, einem strengen Juristen, über seine vergangene Ehe, die Beziehung zu seinen Kindern, über Krankheit, Frauen, Tränen, Arbeit. Keine Lebensbereiche werden ausgelassen.
Trotz anfänglicher Skepsis entwickelt dieses Buch überraschende Handlungsstränge und schließt mit einem runden Ende. Es ist eine Bereicherung für alle, die gerne über das Leben sinnieren!

[M.C · Rating 4 out of 5]

PUes no sé muy bien qué nota poner a esta obra... Está bien escrita, unas partes mejor que otras, y trata temas trascendentes, ejem... pero me ha recordado a otra del mismo autor (El lector), no en temática sino en estructura: un hombre se ilusiona con una mujer que lo utiliza para sus fines y luego en el futuro, cuando son viejos se vuelven a reencontrar y tal y cual. Dudo mucho sobre la nota, porque por un lado, como digo, sí, es una obra que se lee fácil, y tiene cosas que me han emocionado, sobre todo al final, relacionado con la muerte y la enfermedad, pero por otro lado, tampoco me parece que marque un hito en la historia de la literatura... Yo le pondría 3,5. A ver cuándo ponen las medias estrellas o una puntuación sobre diez.
Bueno, no ha estado mal, pero me parece una fórmula similar a esa otra obra que mencioné.