Eric Maas > Recent Status Updates

Sterke opening bij het passeren van de Zesde Poort!

Als iedere tijd zijn eigen onderwereld heeft, zou de onze ‘angst’ kunnen heten, ‘depressie’ of ‘rouw ‘. ‘Waanzin zelfs. Al is de waanzin slecht het sediment, en is er altijd eerst de eenzaamheid. Diepe, traag stromende eenzaamheid – traag door de zwaarte die ze met zich mee voert, traag door de woordeloze vlakte van het landschap dat ze doorsnijdt, traag stromend onder de kale wind van onze… (p229)

Vijfde Poort

Alsof er een landschap ontstaat in de onleesbare tekst, een onderwereld – een driedimensionaal universum van de wanhoop.

Terwijl ik over Mariëns boek dacht, ‘Lexicon van de machteloosheid’…

Vierde poort

In het twijfeldonker van onze kamer werd ik belaagd door gedachten zwart als kraaien, die hun rollende keelklanken in mijn schedel krasten en zwermend hun vleugels om mijn oren wiekten. Ze vlogen zo rakelings langs me heen dat ik de wind door hun veren hoorde suizen, als een scheur in het weefsel van de werkelijkheid. (p172)

11. Success in the performing arts, but slumbering will a Civil War is a-brewing…

If you don’t come back I will set off to find you, says Winona. John Cole laughs and then he cries.

10. Picking up the dress act at Mr. Noone’s new place, where they left it. Older now, they won’t go back to being dance girls. A high class act for Thomas, whose effeminate presence is apparently so obvious that no one even thinks of doubting the plan. John Cole, though handsome, won’t try to pretend and note take the role as beau. Winona gets to play the part of daughter (like in real life).

His skin is made of the aftermaths of smiles. p123

The whole way on the spitting puffing cranking train Winona was sat upright and sleepless as if she were in the belly ofa demon and was soon to die.

Derde poort

’Als de dieren gek worden,
ren weg van de zee, vlucht,
vlucht de hooglanden in.’

En dus wikkel ik je in, knoop je aan me vast en vlucht met jou de straten in.

Eerste Poort

9. Gun royalty
Despite the dramatic story ending with a more subjectively involved narrative, as I hoped for, and beautiful writing, I can’t help noticing I am losing interest in the Cowboy and Indian stories. Hope to find more connection to the previous books I read..

But a dying man can just say what he likes. It don’t have to be true.

8. Revenge attack. All adult Sioux are massacre and the children, after talking sense into the sergeant, are to be taken back to the fort. But chief Caught-His-Horse-First is still at large.

Now we might be celestial children out to rob the apples in the orchards of God, fearless, fearless, fearless.
Our sorrow spiralling to heaven. Our courage spiralling to heaven. Our disgrace entangled in it like sorrow and courage was so much briars.

7. Indians too go to ground; Caleb Booth the lucky man; Mrs. Lavinia Grady-Neale, Major’s bride; new trace of Caught-His-Horse-First.

I had in my days of being a girl considered the phrase ‘feminine mystery’ because I had been obliged to try to turn my hand to it. Here was the sockdolager of goddamned feminine mystery.

It’s like being bathed in flames just looking to her, and I ain’t even the sort of man would like to kiss her. It’s like meeting a bit of sharp weather. Blowing against you. She’s a peach among women, I guess.

There goes Caleb Booth, the lucky man. A lucky man is a man you want fighting near you and he gives the needful sense that the world is a thing of mysteries and wonders. That it’s bigger than you, bigger than all the shot and blood you seen. That God might be in it somehow looking out for you.

6. Peace with the Oglala Indians. And broken peace, ending with the massacre of twenty fellow men. Lieutenant handled with the same disrespect Indians victims were given by white men (cutting off access to heaven by cutting off heads)

Joking, all that Irish do, but somewhere behind it the dark wolves staring, the hunger wolves under the hunger moons.

5. Indian victuals, ice storm & frostbite

The wind was all icy blades and might have shaved the beards and whiskers of the men but that they had already froze to metal.

Gangrene got in and that’s a dancing partner no trooper chooses.

Ever since leaving the Daggsville saloon it’s been all violence and hardship for the troops. Like an inventory or encyclopedia. I long for an individual level of narrative

4. Flood, and starting away from Indians