DieVergangenheit, individual, biographical as well as TI, is a tricky thing. Without knowledge of ir own history, one would probably stumble around helplessly in world. Undzugleich, past can be a heavy backpack that one cannot shake off, even if it seems to press one down in present and to pretend all future footsteps.
Quite a few of texts presented during this year's Ingeborg Bachmann competition in Klagenfurt negotiated ambivalence of this heritage. No one, however, did Sovoller wit, sensuality, half-fine, semi-merciless irony like 1983geborene Tanja Maljartschuk, who readers of time online also become acquainted as author of Writers blog free text.
In frogs, Maljartschuk tells idiosyncratic friendship of two lost: Petro, who fled from Ukraine after VielenJahren – presumably – Vienna and re without PASSLEBT, and Mrs. Grill, an almost ninety-year-old, dementia-sick lady, Deutsche World Gradually slipping away and which is more and more fleeing into world DerFantasie. These two figures are lonely and remain in derzarten of ir cosiness, which leaves Maljartschuk in a SchönenAmbivalenz. Fröscheim Sea is not a narrative that specifically jumps to refugee debate. Petro left his village years ago, perhaps only from disappointed Liebeoder to escape old stipulations.
A in its simplicity and dimmed melancholy a convincing variant of dealing with its own past, Bov Bjerg was awarded German Radio Prize, an author who succeeded two years ago with his novel Auer house bestseller. It was in Auer's family a nostalgic and amusing summoning of derkurzen, intense but also transitory freedom, which promises youth time.The burden of family
Serpentines, Bjergs in Klagenfurtpräsentierte history, could be read as a complementary text: a Erzählungüber a man who wants to spend first appearance of a holiday with Seinemkleinen son. Gradually, however, one suspects that this man is fleeing; That he tries to break out of his own fossilized existence, directed by family past – possibly EinzigeAusweg, who stays with him if he does not want to take his life, as SeinVater, grandfar and great-grandfar did. Wher he succeeds in this outbreak remains uncertain, as is much more decisive question that is driving man: wher he will succeed in not imposing genealogical burden on EigenenSohn, or wher she may just conceal her einersolchen Makes.
BjergsSprache is pleasantly withdrawn and without any frills, but gleichzeitigvon a simplicity that does not have to be enthusiastic about. It is nice to istdennoch that as an established author, for whom participation in Klagenfurt Jastets poses a particular risk, he has not only presented himself here, but also with a text that has struck surprising sounds.
WährendBjerg was focused on simplicity, could a mere look at dasSchriftbild of text I burn 1983 born, so far mainly alsLyrikerin in appearance Özlem Özgül Dündar linguistic Radikalitätsuggerieren. Although consistent lower case and Aussparungjeglicher punctuation are not so advanced. Dündars Lecture, however, in which author conventionally mitlas every Derunsichtbaren punctuation mark in anticipated place, in turn revealed that typeface was hardly more than scenery, so that decleanness was a certain conventionality. The jury was Jedochangetan by Dündars text, which could be read as commemoration of victims of right-wing radical Anschlägevon Solingen. The monologues of mors of victims ' perpetrators ' side, however, come without time and local determination. The fact that in this Mor-assembly interior and exterior perspective always go undisturbed again relatively carelessly, apparently little bored. For denKelag price it sufficed.Updated Date: 09 July 2018, 12:02