Friday, July 4, 2008

Peter Handke's "The Moravian Night"



I just finished reading Peter Handke's "Erzählung" (story, narrative) and am filled with a wide range of emotions and thoughts. Peacefulness is the primary emotion, and a hightened awareness of the things around me -- my dog, the crackle of the buck's passage through scruboak outside my window, the rainsquall swooping down on the house from Loafer Mountain, the taste of the portobellos we just grilled.

The narrator of the story tells about a long journey through the Balkans, Spain, Germany, and Austria, a journey that brings him to places from Handke's life and into contact with characters from Handke's earlier works.

The story begins and ends on the Morava River just outside the town of Porodin in what is now Serbia. The narrator describes lambs grilled on spits -- and thus Thomas Deichmann's photo taken in Porodin, of Peter, Zarko, Zlatko's father who has grilled the lamb for us, and a younger me.

More about the ideas of the story another time.

What a pleasure it is to read.


4 comments:

michael morrow said...

I read and I study, and do it again. Finally getting, finally catching a glimpse of what it might mean to respect observation and experience of another. I'm continuously blown away with it all. Writer's, artists I and we have studied; words, come-on now, say it word, ole' buddy. Such a difference between speaking and saying........listening, hearing, responding some obscure place between stratified belief and unconscious experience. Where's funnel into jars for safekeeping past's harvest. Where's lesson's storehouse surely left, stashed away for today day by love and concern seeped red into home turf.
I dont know, I dont know nothin' leaves me accessible like narritive

michael morrow said...

I read and I study, and do it again. Finally getting, finally catching a glimpse of what it might mean to respect observations, experiences, and truth of another. Wow, I'm continuously blown away with it all. Writer's, artists I and we have studied; words, come-on now, say it word, ole' buddy. Such a difference between speaking and saying........listening, hearing, responding some obscure place between stratified belief and unconscious experience. Where's funnel into jars for safekeeping past's harvest. Where's lesson's storehouse surely left, stashed away for our day by those whose love and concern seeped red into home turf.
I dont know, I dont know nothin' leaves me accessible

Will said...

Thanks for the heads up on Tom's performances here in Berkeley. I'm in the mood and I'll be there.

michael said...

man, I know people,
beautiful people,
everywhere,
some gone,
all care,
connections tangible
no obligation
to be
only me

Finally, I'm appreciating people where THEY live. No longer reeling, obligated to decide who, how, or what I live,HA-HA!!. I'm consistently blown into new dimensions thanks to technology and the amazingly vast means communication represents. Isolation is not comfortable and certainly not a safe place to be people.
Gads zzooookks, the opportunity and experience at UVSC is everything and more I fantasized--place of education in progressive society....one most amazing factor is that education is ongoing in spite in manly's-divine intervention.
yeh, it's been a great summer-- --learning stuff, walking in grassy morning dew, sun flaming
out provo canyon's crouch...
who am I? how'd I get here?

NOT!!!!!!!