The writers and material collected in this anthology should make it a 5-star book, except that almost all of it consists of excerpts from longer works rather than well-chosen stories. Book extracts are a waste of everybody's time, and the fact that each piece is not identified as being such in the blurb, on the contents page, in the introduction or even at the start of each piece is dishonest. You only learn what is an extract at the end of each selection. A wasted opportunity.
It’s hardly necessary to say that The Dedalus Book of German Decadence: Voices from the Abyss is fabulous. All the Dedalus anthologies are fabulous. And as always, lot of authors I’d never heard of, and now I’m going to be desperately searching or more of their work. Although I do have an awful sinking feeling that finding English translations is going to be somewhat difficult. I’ve already looked for an English translation of Alraune by Hanns Heinz Ewers (extracts from which appear in the anthology), and there don’t appear to be any available. Paul Leppin’s work is available however, and I’ve already sent off an order for The Road to Darkness. The extract from his novel Blaugast was enough to convince me I needed to do this. Stanislaus Przybyszewski’s Androgyne was another story that impressed me quite a bit. I hadn’t really thought of Thomas Mann as a decadent, but his short story The Blood of the Wälsungs is really quite outrageously decadent, and rather wonderful.
the gorgeous language of the symbolist writers is just incredible. i could smother myself in it and die under pages and pages of the most lush descriptions i've ever cast eyes on and be the happiest person alive. notably, androgyne and the autopsy, as well as excerpts of alraune- but that is best on its own, in an unabridged form.
This for me sums up the feeling of isolation and alienation of the mind in a ever changing society based on image rather than character how the mind is effected by ever changing imagery enjoyable in its portrayal of disturbance of the mind the differant authors l treated as an intoduction to the genre in general
Heady stuff. You have to let yourself fall into it to get through it, or you'll be too distracted wondering how Harold's Purple Crayon managed to write so much damn prose.