Thursday, May 15, 2008

An extremely brief commentary on Adalbert Stifter through the story of Abdias

Some years ago Oppermann gave me an English translation of Adalbert Stifter's writings entitled "Brigatta and Other Stories" or something like that. I will look and see if there is an inscription and possibly include it here.

About two weeks ago I became obcessed with the idea that I had to re-read a short story in that book entitled "Abdias." Once again I waded into Stifter's prose. --It actually took me a while to find the book, because, one must know, and I believe Oppermann does, that books are very mischievous and can hide themselves quite well when they do not want to be found. I have not yet finished reading Abdias, though I continue to read a page or two every night with great intent.

The story is of the sufferings of a Jewish man by the name of Abdias, who's home in North Africa is eventually discovered and raided, his wife killed and so forth. I know that Stifter goes through pains with his exceedingly polite prose to render a realistic portrait of the sufferings and joys of Abdias. There is even a "stroke of lightning" in the story where Abdias' daughter, who, according to the misfortunes of the book is blind, but is given vision, thus by a sort of Deus ex Machina is allowed sight.

Please review the following digressions or forget them as you would like:
  1. Keuranos Kubernatai: the saying of Heraclitus: "thunderbolt steers all things."
  2. Thunderbolts are commonly known to be sacred to the god of Thunder: Zeus (I do not want to focus as much on Thor, Odin, or Indra, but I would also include imagery around the tantric object known of as the "dorje" or thunderbolt) (Oppermann has never even alluded to tantra in his writings, probably rejecting it as completely foreign, I may claim it through my father's studies of Eastern Religion and his film "Altars of the East")
  3. Thunderbolts are symbols of metaphor: connection of two places
  4. Thunderbolts reflect the synaptic junctures of the brain and brain functioning.

I will compare some other books that Oppermann sent to Adalbert Stifter's writings:

  1. James's (Henry) "Spoils of Poynton" I could never get through, Oppermann sent it to me and it suffers as unreadable by my estimate, though appreciated as being so only because of my status as a phillistine. "Poynton" was sent to me because of some disputes I was having over my father's estate, in part spurred by my ex-wife... and it points to a real nadir in my own personal life. Still I find James less agreeable than Stifter.
  2. Robert Walser: anything by Walser I regard as superior. I have not read all the way through any of his books. It is not necessary. I keep reading and enjoying Walser: his fresh cheekyness makes him superior.
  3. Max Frisch: Man in the Holocene: there is a quality of Frisch that is fresh just like Walser: it is contemporary writing that continually questions its margins. I also love that Frisch puts numeration to his literature, it cracks me up.
  4. Gert Hoffmann: Auf Dem Turm: really reflecting another preference: everything in this book is terrible, everything goes to hell: people are really awful to one another: Oppermann once gave a copy of this book to a man who was flirting with his ex-wife, I believe: touche: that is panache. I love books where everyone is miserable: but:
  5. not in the manner that they are miserable like "The Gulag Archipelago:" I do not like to read about unwilling victims of atrocity. Rather their misery comes from a willing scream inside a soul.
  6. Thomas Bernhardt: Beton. ditto Hoffmann: still more introverted. An extremely profound commentary I completely identify with: exceedingly impolite
  7. Walser, Frisch, Hoffmann, and Bernhardt were all introduced to me by Oppermann, I could say that this points to the fact that a major portion of my education I can easily attribute to Oppermann
  8. There are other deserving books that Oppermann has sent to me that I adore but I cannot include them here because they would repeat the point (Pavic's Landscape Painted with Tea, The Second Book, Words are Something Else, Stories and Texts for Nothing, etc etc etc!!!)
  9. The problem with Stifter and James is that they are too polite. I deplore polite prose, sanitized too much. I will keep reading both of them because something inside me tells me I must particularly conclude reading Stifter's story of Abdias at least.
  10. This particular web-log entry/literary essay is finished BEFORE I have even completely read the story of Abdias: I do this in part because I abhor the kind of "correct" academics who would actually state it is more scholarly to finish a text before writing about it. To them I say nonsense, rubbish, quatsch. I am on the way to Abdias. That is all I had to say; and so I will say what ammounts to an impolite, but heartfelt word of gratitude to Oppermann: thank you.

3 comments:

falkenburger said...

as you might imagine, i have quite a a bit to say about this, but it will be a while coming. i think i will NOT quarrel with your dismissal of henry james because he is american and i cannot claim to have superior insight into him (superior to yours, that is) on account of my heritage. i do think henry james was a divine writer, greater than dostoevsky or even flaubert. but this is not necessarily something i want to discuss at length anytime soon. it could be the case that once back in germany i will feel nostalgia for america, and then talk about henry james. but not now.
as far as stifter is concerned, the issue is tremendously important (even though you picked one of his lesser tales). stifter is the cutting edge of ALL writers: by this i mean that if you dislike stifter you have been corrupted by the modern world. if you like stifter, you have transcended the untranscendable, and thus have become something else. this is tricky, of course, and requires extensive discussion. i doubt i will be able to provide it anytime soon, but hold on to stifter, even if you get rid of the other books.

(your remarks on politeness are interesting but do not get to the point. and here, believe it or not, there IS a point)

Ayres said...

Agreed that politeness is beside the point: however the issue of politeness or impoliteness is what has opened a discussion of Stifter: and in comparison to Charles Bukowski he is quite polite. I am willing to read through given time to the level that you are speaking of:

"stifter is the cutting edge of ALL writers: by this i mean that if you dislike stifter you have been corrupted by the modern world. if you like stifter, you have transcended the untranscendable, and thus have become something else."

I am eager to learn some more. Politeness still irks me. Thank you Doctor Oppermann!!!

Ayres said...

The stroke of Lightning I refer to can also be thought of in terms of "The Drifter's Escape" by our beloved Bob Dylan:

"Just then a bolt of lightning struck the courthouse out of shape.
"And while everybody knelt to pray the drifter did escape."

This is raised to an even higher level by the version of "Der Sandler's Flucht" by Wolfgang Ambros, whom I have written about recently as "Fucking Great" - I may spend the next 20 years relating everything back to something sung by Ambros: a suitably absurd project for a dejected Yank cum decaying Brit like myself.