Gerhard’s Reviews > The Third Reel > Status Update
Gerhard
is on page 150 of 352
How is it possible that you could have discovered every centimetre of someone’s body, every sinew and every freckle, the labyrinth of each ear, could know the fumes of soot and iron he gives off when he is hungry or aroused, but know nothing about him?
— May 03, 2020 04:17AM
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Gerhard’s Previous Updates
Gerhard
is on page 315 of 352
'But he suddenly wonders: what is left behind when you cut out a part of your life like a tumour and try to replace it with light?'
— Jun 05, 2020 06:14AM
Gerhard
is on page 297 of 352
'... the tearing down of the Wall has robbed him of his Berlins, his two half-cities.'
— Jun 05, 2020 05:51AM
Gerhard
is on page 278 of 352
'Etienne wants to add something. Wants to write on Axel until the pen breaks through the skin, slips into a vein and infects his blood with all the alphabets of the world.'
— Jun 05, 2020 05:26AM
Gerhard
is on page 240 of 352
'There are too many such things in his world, Etienne thinks: ghost films, ghost stations, ghost guards, a ghost lover. And his ghost country of origin.'
— May 30, 2020 07:26AM
Gerhard
is on page 215 of 352
'We'll call ourselves Stunde Null. We'll make music together, music that no one has ever heard before.' Like wild children, he thinks. Like gods. Like guides in the dark.
— May 30, 2020 06:48AM
Gerhard
is on page 188 of 352
'There is nothing as intimate between men as being strangers...'
— May 30, 2020 05:26AM
Gerhard
is on page 170 of 352
'To doubt is to betray. To be curious is to disrupt.'
— May 30, 2020 05:00AM
Gerhard
is on page 139 of 352
I will stay with you, he wants to say, among other things, until you are old, and tired, and bent double. Until pearls grow over your eyes.
— Apr 11, 2020 08:18AM
Gerhard
is on page 114 of 352
South Africa washes over me like a cold river on a strange continent.
— Apr 11, 2020 07:36AM
Gerhard
is on page 90 of 352
On 10 May Irmgard writes about book burnings, the Säuberung: You can smell the smoke drifting over from Opernplatz, the millions of letters floating upwards. I lift my nose, read the acrid cloud of words. Inhale it deeply, store the sentences in my lungs.
— Apr 11, 2020 06:25AM
