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Kali: Eine Vorwintergeschichte
Poetische Geschichte über eine Frau, die in die geheimnisvolle Landschaft ihrer Kindheit zurückkehrt.
- GenresFictionGerman Literature
160 pages, Paperback
First published February 3, 2007
6 people are currently reading
55 people want to read
About the author
Peter Handke
302 books1,159 followersPeter Handke (* 6. Dezember 1942 in Griffen, Kärnten) ist ein österreichischer Schriftsteller und Übersetzer.
Peter Handke is an Avant-garde Austrian novelist and playwright. His body of work has been awarded numerous literary prizes, including the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2019. He has also collaborated with German director Wim Wenders, writing the script for The Wrong Move and co-writing the screenplay for Wings of Desire.
Peter Handke is an Avant-garde Austrian novelist and playwright. His body of work has been awarded numerous literary prizes, including the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2019. He has also collaborated with German director Wim Wenders, writing the script for The Wrong Move and co-writing the screenplay for Wings of Desire.
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
January 17, 2019
Das Unheil wegmusizieren
Let’s make the room white one more time
one more time the totally white room, you, me
it won’t save time, but one more time
make the room white, now, never again later
almost echoing perfection
our lines more white than legible
so one more time that room, once and for all total
the way we lay there, lie, shall lie there
more white than, together –
Gerrit Kouwenaar, Totally White Room (Translation Lloyd Haft)
Dear Mr. Handke,
I offer my sincerest apologies for not being the reader you need to feature the artistic qualities of your 2007 novel Kali credibly after a first read, and for being an unworthy and unwilling opponent in the games your play with your reader instead. When I found your novella, I thought to finish it in an evening since its brevity, but soon got lost in the melancholy of your otherworldly and poetical world. No Ariadne was around to guide me out of your labyrinth.
As you translated Shakespeare’s The Winter's Tale into English in 1991 (‘das Wintermärchen’), you probably refer to this play by subtitling your novel a ‘Pre-Winter tale’. Soon it occurred to me you expect your reader to be well-versed in the canon of Western literature, lavishly interspersing your writing with allusions to German Romanticism, Lancelot, Faust, Dante, set in a décor fitting a contemporary staging of a Wagner opera. You are of the demanding kind, not tolerating the reader to sit back and simply let the prose wash over him or her. No, reader, in the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread.
You and your omniscient but unexpansive narrator pulled me along in the wake of a nameless singer who leaves the concert stage to depart on an oneiric quest returning near to the hometown of her childhood, paying a visit to her mother, to end up in a surreal world of windy and white abstractedness in Mitteleuropa, a potash (‘kali’ in German) mine – an allegorical underworld that is reached by ship, inhabited by refugees from all over the world working in the mine, uprooted, ’eternally shipwrecked’, ’survivors of the Third World War that has been raging around us for a long time already, unexplained, scarcely visible, but all the more evil’. A world where children get lost. The uncanny atmosphere of war is enhanced by the military aircrafts swarming the place. Apparently, you are intensely fascinated by the odyssey theme (glancing through your back catalogue here on GR, I spotted Short Letter, Long Farewell, Slow Homecoming, The Moravian Night: A Story, just to name a few) –mostly voyages to the innermost core of the self.
In this opaque fairy tale, you connect cinematic dream sequences painted in an expressive visual style (reminding me of the powerful evocation of mystery by the dense fog scene in Antonioni’s Identificazione di una donna) by parenthetical stage directions ((In the riding bus. Next to her the woman with the lost and found ring). You let your singer – and a woman priest - sing incantations in an biblical, archaic voice – putting pontifications into their mouths, eschewing dialogue or interaction. Whoever appears in your novella is a somnambulant einzelgänger, totally thrown back to himself.
(David Lidbetter)
I tried to unveil the themes and moods in your undeniably sublime and sophisticated narrative, almost crossing the pain threshold for the sake of literature. I discerned a longing for redemption, a search for death and salvaging vitality, life and even love in the end, as well as more questions than answers. Labouring through your text, I felt propelled back more than 25 years in reading, exasperated I still didn’t seem much progressed in building a solid foundation helping me to comprehend what I would conveniently call Austrian postmodern literature, as this experience reminded me painfully of my failed attempt to read Morbus Kitahara by your compatriot Christoph Ransmayr when I was young. You raked up this trauma, Mr. Handke.
You cannot resist provoking your bewildered and rummaging reader even further by rendering the ominous singer outstanding in finding, finding what has been lost – a jewel, a contact lens, a lost child - elucidating her endowment by proclaiming ’Don’t stand still when looking, don’t look where you think you lost what you are looking for, look elsewhere (even to the sky)’. Finally, your catharsis sounds deep-down Christian: those who look for themselves, find another.
There is no such thing as a level playing field here. In this first read, your mountain of salt blinded and muted me. Perhaps I should revisit Kali when I am in the mood for playing games.
Until we meet again,
Your reader.
And you, dear reader? Are you in the mood for the quest for the Handkean grail? If you do not shy away from some digging for the multi-fold undercurrents in this mountain of salt, you might find some magic. Please let me know.
Let’s make the room white one more time
one more time the totally white room, you, me
it won’t save time, but one more time
make the room white, now, never again later
almost echoing perfection
our lines more white than legible
so one more time that room, once and for all total
the way we lay there, lie, shall lie there
more white than, together –
Gerrit Kouwenaar, Totally White Room (Translation Lloyd Haft)
Dear Mr. Handke,
I offer my sincerest apologies for not being the reader you need to feature the artistic qualities of your 2007 novel Kali credibly after a first read, and for being an unworthy and unwilling opponent in the games your play with your reader instead. When I found your novella, I thought to finish it in an evening since its brevity, but soon got lost in the melancholy of your otherworldly and poetical world. No Ariadne was around to guide me out of your labyrinth.
As you translated Shakespeare’s The Winter's Tale into English in 1991 (‘das Wintermärchen’), you probably refer to this play by subtitling your novel a ‘Pre-Winter tale’. Soon it occurred to me you expect your reader to be well-versed in the canon of Western literature, lavishly interspersing your writing with allusions to German Romanticism, Lancelot, Faust, Dante, set in a décor fitting a contemporary staging of a Wagner opera. You are of the demanding kind, not tolerating the reader to sit back and simply let the prose wash over him or her. No, reader, in the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread.
You and your omniscient but unexpansive narrator pulled me along in the wake of a nameless singer who leaves the concert stage to depart on an oneiric quest returning near to the hometown of her childhood, paying a visit to her mother, to end up in a surreal world of windy and white abstractedness in Mitteleuropa, a potash (‘kali’ in German) mine – an allegorical underworld that is reached by ship, inhabited by refugees from all over the world working in the mine, uprooted, ’eternally shipwrecked’, ’survivors of the Third World War that has been raging around us for a long time already, unexplained, scarcely visible, but all the more evil’. A world where children get lost. The uncanny atmosphere of war is enhanced by the military aircrafts swarming the place. Apparently, you are intensely fascinated by the odyssey theme (glancing through your back catalogue here on GR, I spotted Short Letter, Long Farewell, Slow Homecoming, The Moravian Night: A Story, just to name a few) –mostly voyages to the innermost core of the self.
In this opaque fairy tale, you connect cinematic dream sequences painted in an expressive visual style (reminding me of the powerful evocation of mystery by the dense fog scene in Antonioni’s Identificazione di una donna) by parenthetical stage directions ((In the riding bus. Next to her the woman with the lost and found ring). You let your singer – and a woman priest - sing incantations in an biblical, archaic voice – putting pontifications into their mouths, eschewing dialogue or interaction. Whoever appears in your novella is a somnambulant einzelgänger, totally thrown back to himself.
(David Lidbetter)
I tried to unveil the themes and moods in your undeniably sublime and sophisticated narrative, almost crossing the pain threshold for the sake of literature. I discerned a longing for redemption, a search for death and salvaging vitality, life and even love in the end, as well as more questions than answers. Labouring through your text, I felt propelled back more than 25 years in reading, exasperated I still didn’t seem much progressed in building a solid foundation helping me to comprehend what I would conveniently call Austrian postmodern literature, as this experience reminded me painfully of my failed attempt to read Morbus Kitahara by your compatriot Christoph Ransmayr when I was young. You raked up this trauma, Mr. Handke.
You cannot resist provoking your bewildered and rummaging reader even further by rendering the ominous singer outstanding in finding, finding what has been lost – a jewel, a contact lens, a lost child - elucidating her endowment by proclaiming ’Don’t stand still when looking, don’t look where you think you lost what you are looking for, look elsewhere (even to the sky)’. Finally, your catharsis sounds deep-down Christian: those who look for themselves, find another.
There is no such thing as a level playing field here. In this first read, your mountain of salt blinded and muted me. Perhaps I should revisit Kali when I am in the mood for playing games.
Until we meet again,
Your reader.
And you, dear reader? Are you in the mood for the quest for the Handkean grail? If you do not shy away from some digging for the multi-fold undercurrents in this mountain of salt, you might find some magic. Please let me know.
November 6, 2016
A beautiful story in a sort of german fairytale-like atmosphere about a woman who revisits the village of her childhood. Poetic, evocative, minimalistic. The story grasps you and doesn't let you go anymore. I'II be looking for more books by Peter Handke.
February 7, 2023
Citaat : In de diepe schemering met bundels daglicht staat ze voor mijn oog, hoog boven op het zoutmassief, met aan haar voeten de mijnwerkerskolonie, waarvan het laatste deel oprijst tegen een duidelijk kleinere, bedrieglijke natuurlijke heuvel, waarschijnlijk een ijstijdmorene.
Review : Dit boekje, 128 bladzijden, kan je louter en alleen lezen voor de mooie taal, heel poëtisch en ook filmisch. Mijn gelukwensen dus aan de vertaler, want het werk was oorspronkelijk in het Duits en deze vertaling moet een hele kluif geweest zijn.
Centraal in het verhaal staan een anonieme verteller, een zangeres en een zoutmijn. De vrouw is heel dominant en ze maakt de verteller bang. Maar niettegenstaande dat angstaanjagende wil hij toch met haar de confrontatie aangaan.
Het is een hallucinant verhaal over een wereld waarin mens zijn een probleem vormt. Uiteraard zijn er links met onze huidige maatschappij met een multiculturele samenleving, maar uiteindelijk is het toch ook een vreemde afstandelijke wereld.
Een uiterst knap filosofisch verhaal met een heel broeierige sfeer waarin de auteur een explosieve spanning opbouwt. Uiteraard is het ook een verwoording van de vervreemding van het individu van zijn medemens.
Subliem!
Review : Dit boekje, 128 bladzijden, kan je louter en alleen lezen voor de mooie taal, heel poëtisch en ook filmisch. Mijn gelukwensen dus aan de vertaler, want het werk was oorspronkelijk in het Duits en deze vertaling moet een hele kluif geweest zijn.
Centraal in het verhaal staan een anonieme verteller, een zangeres en een zoutmijn. De vrouw is heel dominant en ze maakt de verteller bang. Maar niettegenstaande dat angstaanjagende wil hij toch met haar de confrontatie aangaan.
Het is een hallucinant verhaal over een wereld waarin mens zijn een probleem vormt. Uiteraard zijn er links met onze huidige maatschappij met een multiculturele samenleving, maar uiteindelijk is het toch ook een vreemde afstandelijke wereld.
Een uiterst knap filosofisch verhaal met een heel broeierige sfeer waarin de auteur een explosieve spanning opbouwt. Uiteraard is het ook een verwoording van de vervreemding van het individu van zijn medemens.
Subliem!
July 17, 2016
”Kali” er oversat fra tysk (”Kali: eine Vorwintergeschichte”) og er skrevet af den tyske forfatter, Peter Handke. Det er en abstrakt fortælling, hvor læseren selv er aktiv i forhold til analysen af teksten; læseren skaber og finder derfor selv meningen med teksten. Det er historien om en kvinde, som vender tilbage til sin barndomsby for at finde sig selv igen på ny. Hele fortællingen er meget sanselig og rummer mange iagttagelser, hvilket gør det tungt for læseren, da der er mangel på dialog og handling. Dog er der mange smukke still-billeder, så det kunne antages at bogen ville egne sig som teaterstykke eller som filmmedie.
Teksten rummer mange spændende elementer. Som læser tager man ud på en rejse, som fører fra storbyen til barndomshjemmet med smukke beskrivelser af smuk natur. Vi følger hovedpersonens rejse, både fysik og psykisk. Det hvide saltbjerg ville i denne sammenhæng være symbolet på hovedpersonens rejse, både; tilbage til barndomshjemmet og genfindelsen af jeg’et, som skal findes i bunden af saltbjerget (i dybet af jeg’et).
”Hvis de overhovedet stadig kunne ønske – men heller ikke det er de længere i stand til – ville ønske at leve dernede, i minen, altid, dybt i jordens indre, fjernt fra dagens himmel […] Heller ikke drømme kan de længere, og det kan man se på dem, ikke sandt?”
Et andet symbol er flytningene i båden, som symboliserer rodløsheden i mennesket og den manglende følelse af at høre til, enten på grund af en manglende viden omkring individet eller de mange grænser, som altid er i bevægelse.
Der er mange interessante elementer i Peter Handkes historie, f.eks. ”rejsen” som tema. Her kan det både være rejsen fra storby til landsby, rejsen fra voksenlivet tilbage til det oprindelige; barndommen, men også rejsen mellem de fysiske og usynlige/psykiske grænser. Desuden vises der også en grænse og adskillelse af kroppen og sjælen. Det handler om selvet om at finde hjem igen, og undersøge hvad det væsentlige er for individets eksistens.
Min mening om bogen:
Med historien ”Kali” af Peter Handke føres man på en rejse ind i det psykologiske, som danner rammen om mennesket. Det er en historie om at genfinde den vigtige essens af livet, og efter en del tankestrøm bliver det en spændende historie. Derimod vil jeg mene, at det er en tung bog at komme igennem, selvom den kun er 138 sider. De mange iagttagelser og mangel på handling og dialog gør at den ikke er særlig læsevenlig, men det skal stadig understreges, at hensigten bag den er meget interessant. Det smukke i fortællingen er rejsen efter at finde sig selv igen, og finde tilbage til det oprindelige og det velkendte.
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Teksten rummer mange spændende elementer. Som læser tager man ud på en rejse, som fører fra storbyen til barndomshjemmet med smukke beskrivelser af smuk natur. Vi følger hovedpersonens rejse, både fysik og psykisk. Det hvide saltbjerg ville i denne sammenhæng være symbolet på hovedpersonens rejse, både; tilbage til barndomshjemmet og genfindelsen af jeg’et, som skal findes i bunden af saltbjerget (i dybet af jeg’et).
”Hvis de overhovedet stadig kunne ønske – men heller ikke det er de længere i stand til – ville ønske at leve dernede, i minen, altid, dybt i jordens indre, fjernt fra dagens himmel […] Heller ikke drømme kan de længere, og det kan man se på dem, ikke sandt?”
Et andet symbol er flytningene i båden, som symboliserer rodløsheden i mennesket og den manglende følelse af at høre til, enten på grund af en manglende viden omkring individet eller de mange grænser, som altid er i bevægelse.
Der er mange interessante elementer i Peter Handkes historie, f.eks. ”rejsen” som tema. Her kan det både være rejsen fra storby til landsby, rejsen fra voksenlivet tilbage til det oprindelige; barndommen, men også rejsen mellem de fysiske og usynlige/psykiske grænser. Desuden vises der også en grænse og adskillelse af kroppen og sjælen. Det handler om selvet om at finde hjem igen, og undersøge hvad det væsentlige er for individets eksistens.
Min mening om bogen:
Med historien ”Kali” af Peter Handke føres man på en rejse ind i det psykologiske, som danner rammen om mennesket. Det er en historie om at genfinde den vigtige essens af livet, og efter en del tankestrøm bliver det en spændende historie. Derimod vil jeg mene, at det er en tung bog at komme igennem, selvom den kun er 138 sider. De mange iagttagelser og mangel på handling og dialog gør at den ikke er særlig læsevenlig, men det skal stadig understreges, at hensigten bag den er meget interessant. Det smukke i fortællingen er rejsen efter at finde sig selv igen, og finde tilbage til det oprindelige og det velkendte.
Blog ~ Facebook ~ Instagram ~ Youtube ~ Spotify ~
June 28, 2018
Das ist die schönste Liebesgeschichte, die ich seit langem gelesen habe.
January 9, 2022
In Kali gaat een vrouw op weg naar haar einde, dat zoals ze van bij de start voorvoelt te samen zal zijn met een eenzame man op een zoutberg. Daartoe reist met een boot "De Emigrant" naar de "Dode Hoek" in een verenigd Europa. Op die boot bevinden zich nationaliteiten van over heel de wereld die hun geluk komen beproeven in de zoutkolonie op het eiland. Ze vormen geen groepjes; het zijn allemaal eenlingen onder andere eenlingen. Handke suggereert dat die emigranten de ‘weg van Europa’ zijn om een gemeenschap te vormen. En dat lukt des te beter in de diepste gangen van zijn zoutmijn. Deze filosofie gaat maar op omdat Handke geen enkel positief punt beschrijft in de maatschappij die de vrouw verlaat. En omdat hij bewust in de "Dode Hoek" niet wil nadenken over het eigen gecreëerde symbool van het verdwenen kind. In de Dode Hoek zijn geen kinderen meer en is er dus ook geen toekomswt, misschien juist omdat alles zich ondergronds in de zoutmijn afspeelt.In die zin is het boek zinloos: wat als toekomst (de weg) wordt beschreven is eigenlijk de dood zelf. En de ijkoude vrouw lijkt de ontdooien door die dood. Het gaat dus om een intriest en volkomen zinloos bestaan. Ook al is het boek goed geschreven en heeft het zeker geen overbodige taal- en stijlfiguren, de symboliek is die van een zeer ongenuanceerde linkse internationalist.
October 30, 2025
Niente da fare. La prosa del Nobel Handke ha annichilito ogni mia via velleità di lettura nonostante avessi apprezzato il suo vecchio Storia con bambina. Qui proprio non ci siamo. Solo dopo aver letto la fascetta interna della sovracopertina ho capito la trama del libro, affogata dentro gli arabeschi linguistici dell'autore.
Libro lasciato a metà
Libro lasciato a metà
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November 28, 2016wunderbar, ich suche nach Parallelen zu Adalbert Stifter.
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews