Nobel Prize winner Peter Handke offers three intimate, eloquent meditations that map a self-reflexive journey from Alaska to the Austria of his childhood, while illuminating the act of writing itself.
In his "Essay on Tiredness," Handke transforms an everyday experience--often precipitated by boredom--into a fascinating exploration of the world of slow motion, differentiating degrees of fatigue, the types of weariness, its rejuvenating effects, as well as its erotic, cultural, and political implications.
The title essay is Handke's attempt to understand the significance of the jukebox, a quest which leads him, while on a trip in Spain, into the literature of the jukebox, the history of the music box, and memories of the Beatles' music, in turn elucidating various stages of his own life.
And in his "Essay on the Successful Day," for which there is no prescription, Handke invents a picture of tranquility, using a self-portrait by Hogarth as his point of departure to describe a state of being at peace.
Playful, reflective, insightful, and entertaining, The Jukebox and Other Essays on Storytelling constitutes a literary triptych that redefines the art of the essay and challenges the form of the short story, confirming Peter Handke's stature as "one of the most original and provocative of contemporary writers" (Lawrence Graver, The New York Times Book Review).
Peter 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.
I was surprised to find this book actually contains only three essays. The "And Other Essays" had me thinking there would be maybe up to five or six of them. Not that I'm complaining, as it was an interesting read, especially the first two essays 'Tiredness' and 'The Jukebox' (which is the longest), and of what I have read by Handke so far, I've found his non-fiction and fiction does feel similar in some way, covering in places the same theme of travel, and reading The Jukebox even felt a little like a novella. His writing here felt more meaningful, intimate and warm, compared with my last outing with him, 'The Goalie's Anxiety at the Penalty Kick' which I didn't really like. Apart from that one, I've generally been impressed with him, although have yet to read anything that has had the wow factor. As Austrian writers go, Thomas Bernhard is, in every respect, still clear out in front as my favourite, but at least I can say Handke is a much better writer than Elfriede Jelinek, although that in itself really isn't that difficult.
10.03.2013 Warum habe ich P. Handke so lange ein Schattendasein in meinem Leseleben zugewiesen? Schon der Beginn von "Versuch über die Müdigkeit" ist großartig. 17.03.2013 Versuch über die Müdigkeit gelesen und jetzt mitten im Versuch über die Jukebox. Ich darf als Leser dem Werden des Textes zusehen, wie Handke in Skizzenform das Bild umreißt, einkreist dann und wann hineinsticht, um sich danach wieder zeitlich und räumlich abzuwenden. Da gibt es kein großflächiges Drüberwischen, alles ist mit feinstem Bleistiftstrich gewollt. 31.03.2013 Soeben Versuch über den geglückten Tag beendet. Ich bin den "Versuchen" (die gar keine sind, weil es Sprachevolutionen sind) unrettbar verfallen.
My favorite thing I've read by this author so far. The first and the last essays especially speak to me, now more than ever before. They both perfectly capture mental states I relate to, and I find the writing and the observation to be enthralling, despite the essays' competing impulses to corral and meander.
There is a precision and consciousness in every sentence. I have never read essays that sought with so much attention to presence, where we can see the author struggling to create a sense with and through the writing: each sentence seems hard won, until it doesn't, and the ease with which you, as a reader, encounter it is buoyant.
My two favorite essays both contain images of variations on a theme: in the first, images of tiredness; in the last, images of The Line of Beauty and Grace. I recommend reading slowly, with as much patience and observance as Handke pays his subjects.
Maybe the reason why this book speaks to me so personally now is because it was so formative in shaping my vision and gestalt when I read it in the past.
I love the austereness and seriousness and bleakness and awesomeness of the Austrians and south Germans.
This was less essays on storytelling than stories on the creation of essays.
The title essay contained one fascinating paragraph about the origins and cultural adoption of the jukebox, starting from Prohibition speakeasies, through the Afro-American drinking clubs because their artists were not getting played on the radio. But that's it, the rest of the 'essay' is Handke musing on his travels around Spain, including a notional search for jukeboxes in the country (Franco probably outlawed them) and his procrastination in the face of getting down to write the damned essay. This is tedious. Since the book was written in the late 1980s I don't know if the term creative non-fiction was a thing then, but this is what this most definitely is. And I have no interest in it.
There was nothing about storytelling here, only 3 examples of storytelling in putative essay form. The first essay was on tiredness and how interesting work and thoughts and feelings emerge when we are at our most exhausted, when the defences are down. But again, this is mixed in with some pretty uninvolving travel writing.
Handke dedica tantas páginas à descrição das jukeboxs e sua história e consequente desaparecimento quanto às plantas, paisagens e clima das regiões da Espanha que está visitando de forma solitária. Em algum momento da narrativa ele comenta sobre o ofício de narrar, em outro fala da vontade de se desfazer de alguns de seus imóveis, ele que na virada de 1989 para 1990 já é um escritor consagrado. Ensaio sobre a Jukebox também é um ensaio sobre o distanciamento, sobre afastar-se dos amigos e próximos, afastar-se da sociedade e também da história. O texto é escrito na terceira pessoa também como um marco de um distanciamento de si mesmo. O Muro de Berlim cai e o mundo socialista desmorona, mas isso vale um comentário de algumas páginas por parte do narrador e nada mais. Ele quer fugir do mundo e mesmo as Jukeboxes não são vistas em sua decadência da forma poética que poderíamos esperar. Os momentos mais intensos da prosa realmente são aqueles em que se descreve um nascer do sol, uma geada, a forma de algumas árvores. E sinceramente não há nada mais. É um texto muito bem escrito, mas morno, um exercício tão íntimo que está despreocupado de qualquer tarefa de sedução.
By all means, this is not an easy book. Not only is it difficult in the words/vocabulary used by the author, even though as a prolific Handke reader, I dare to say I’m quite familiar with his language, it is also difficult in the form of the book and the things that are written about. It is not written in a common form. Nor is it uniform. The first essay was written in the form of Q&A dialogue. The second was written in the voice of a third person. And the last one is even more confusing. The three essays all circle around the writer’s experiences. However, two essays center on general human experiences and the other one is specific to a writer. Unlike Handke's other books, the author did not attempt to paint a full image. Instead, partial images are put together to generate ideas. This is where I got lost. The fast-changing phrases are out of character of Handke's writings even though the language tried to keep them still within the normal fashion. I'm going to give this book a second read. Handke's books deserve multiple reads as always until the reader can finally understand the author.
Handke dedica tantas páginas à descrição das jukeboxs e sua história e consequente desaparecimento quanto às plantas, paisagens e clima das regiões da Espanha que está visitando de forma solitária. Em algum momento da narrativa ele comenta sobre o ofício de narrar, em outro fala da vontade de se desfazer de alguns de seus imóveis, ele que na virada de 1989 para 1990 já é um escritor consagrado. Ensaio sobre a Jukebox também é um ensaio sobre o distanciamento, sobre afastar-se dos amigos e próximos, afastar-se da sociedade e também da história. O texto é escrito na terceira pessoa também como um marco de um distanciamento de si mesmo. O Muro de Berlim cai e o mundo socialista desmorona, mas isso vale um comentário de algumas páginas por parte do narrador e nada mais. Ele quer fugir do mundo e mesmo as Jukeboxes não são vistas em sua decadência da forma poética que poderíamos esperar. Os momentos mais intensos da prosa realmente são aqueles em que se descreve um nascer do sol, uma geada, a forma de algumas árvores. E sinceramente não há nada mais. É um texto muito bem escrito, mas morno, um exercício tão íntimo que está despreocupado de qualquer tarefa de sedução.
Meandering yet enthralling, empty yet full of life, these stories are related only in their attempt to define that which is left, ultimately, undefined. In terms of structure, they share an extreme flavor of stream-of-consciousness. There is little to be said of their plots, which take a backseat to how they are communicated. Thus, these stories aren't for everyone.
As for the quality of the translation, it's a wonder that the last story could be translated, with its focus on language!
If I were to return to these stories, I would likely return only to the first "Essay on Tiredness," which carries a poetic undertone of nationalistic sentiment. But as with all other subjects in this book, whatever is being described eludes even a form. As Handke, perhaps self-referentially, wrote:
"Since there is nothing but the idea, the idea is all I can tell you about" (pg. 126)
Unlike the title suggests, this is not an essay about the jukebox, but rather an “essay on trying to write an essay about the jukebox.” The jukebox, here, serves merely as a pretext for the author to procrastinate between memories of his past and his trip to the Spanish countryside. It took me a long time to finish such a short book. The author won a Nobel Prize in Literature, but well, it didn’t captivate me. Honestly, I couldn’t care less about the sabbatical trip of a bourgeois German. A text far too European
Really unique perspective on some interesting topics and Handke writes beautifully. There is also some clues as to how to read his other works: he’s focused on experience and perception. However, I found myself falling asleep while reading it often. It was boring. And I wasn’t excited to read it when I had time to sit down.
The Austrian novelist and playwright offers three longish essays that may be fiction or perhaps nonfiction as advertised. They may be by Peter Handke but they could just as easily be by “Peter Handke.” The middle and longest is the title essay and it is in the third person, an impersonal essay or a short story? It tells the story of the author’s writing an essay that effectively we never see on The Jukebox. Instead we read about where he travels to write it, what memories and thoughts contribute to his thinking on the topic, whether the room is right or the light is right or the noise level appropriate for his writing, and, and, and. Then it’s over. The other two essays are in the first person but the writer does engage himself in some internal dialogues, asking himself what he means by such and such or doesn’t that suggest that he’s not sure about his point? Sometimes “he” is no more convinced by his response than we (you and “I”) are. Handke is one of the best writers of titles since Hemingway. His published work includes: Short Letter, Long Farewell; A Sorrow Beyond Dreams, The Left-handed Woman, and The Goalie’s Anxiety at the Penalty Kick. His prose style is sparse, reflective, observationally precise, like Hemingway, but the opposite of dramatic. Stuff doesn’t happen in a Handke novel and it doesn’t happen in his essays. Meaning, or its lack, is found in the precision of the moment. The shadow of a bird flying over one as we walk to the station. The dog barking in the morning’s first light. The way song titles are scribbled on a rectangle of paper and placed in a jukebox in a bar in a small town in Alaska. It’s an existential zen style. The author and the world as he knows it both exist in moments that are action immune. Still and observable. The other two essays, by the way, are on tiredness and on a successful day. He is a challenging writer to enjoy, to get in a rhythm with as you read. He can be brilliant and funny too, or he can be arid and too abstract for connection. You can grab onto the fact that he likes Van Morrison, Bob Marley and the Beatles or you could realize that, well, who doesn’t and find yourself at sea in his small, man-made word-lakes. No paddle. A vivid sky and shimmering water, placid and evocative but soon to fade to a seamless, invisible black.
جستار دوم درباره «جوکباکس» یا همون دستگاههای ژتونی پخش موسیقی توی کافههاس. دستگاههایی که دیگه منسوخ شدن. اما بیشتر از اینکه به تاریخ ماجرا بپردازه، جستار در مورد نویسندهایه که قصد کرده چنین جستاری بنویسه. در روستاهای اسپانیا اتراق کرده. ذهنش مسدود شده و نمیتونه بنویسه. بیشتر جستار به فکر کردن در مورد «فعل نوشتن» میگذره. این هم از نمکهای هاندکه.
Three essays about life, beauty, and grace that transfigure the reader. For the perceptive reader who is content with a moment filled with autumn sunshine.
"You are confusing the successful day with the perfect day." 138